#unless you were able to guess it in which case woo!

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

For What the Future Holds

Prompt: forgiveness

Rating: K/General with mild themes

Setting: Starts Ichigo defeats Yhwach, continues into the very beginning of the ten year time skip. There’s also flashbacks to Toshiro and Momo's past dotted throughout.

Synopsis: Momo notices Toshiro is acting out of sorts ever since the war against the Quincy ended. Meanwhile, Toshiro tries to look to the future.

AN: It’s finally DONE!!

I had the idea for this ages ago (around the time of Horizons, which is why they have a similar structure as you’ll see), but it wasn’t until the 'forgiveness' prompt for the @yearoftheotpevent came up that I finally sat down and wrote it out. It didn't turn out to be the main or overarching theme and the fic itself turned into quite the emotional piece to write ^^;

This was also partly written in light of my headcanon becoming canon! I was aware of the question from Klub Outside a long time ago, but Kubo has confirmed Toshiro and Momo were neighbours rather than living under the same roof, which has always been the scenario I saw for them when I was reading BLEACH and writing fic.

Finally, this fic also has a flashback that slightly ties into When the Souls Sleep and the World is Our Own, but only in that it was a deleted scene and I found a way to include it here instead. You don’t have to read that fic to understand what happens in that scene, just that the setting is not long after they met.

Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy it!

____________________________

“I should’ve told you about it earlier.”

Momo blinks, both at the quietness of Toshiro’s voice and the bowing of his head in her peripheral. She raises her gaze to his face from the now healed over wound on his arm, cancelling the kido as she shifts over to sit next to him. “Told me about what?”

He rolls the tattered sleeve down. He contemplates what to say, staring down at his lap. Behind him, Hyourinmaru’s hilt glints, and beyond, Shinji and Kyouraku watch over those they’d dug out from the ruins earlier. Next to them, Nanao is communicating with someone in the Seireitei – Iemura, Momo suspects – trying to coordinate transportation for the injured, and Isane, bandaged up and still recovering from her own injuries, heals Aikawa. Far away at the Reio’s Palace, she can sense Rukia about to be reunited with her brother.

“That form is why I was training in the caves,” Toshiro says, diverting Momo’s attention back to him. “I should’ve told you about it sooner.

“You mean Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form?”

He nods.

Was that all? She thinks to tease him, to make light of something he seems to be treating with more seriousness than needed, but she halts at his gaze. It’s not the usual icy, determined one she’s used to.

He’s tired – and who could blame him after what they’d gone through? – and it makes him look vulnerable. Something trembles within him, something he’d likely keep hidden behind many walls.

She offers a sympathetic smile. “Why would you need to tell me about it?”

“The way you reacted before…you were startled. If you’d known before, it wouldn’t have been as much of a shock. I apologise.”

It’s true, she’d been stunned, had even flinched with a loud gasp when she first saw him, and was perhaps even a little frightened. She’d stood there, mouth agape and speechless, unable to take her eyes away from him, even as her captain swore and asked who he was. She hadn’t known how else to react, but later as he motioned her towards a piece of rubble to sit on as he explained how he had somehow become an adult, the shock wore off.

She had to resist the urge to hug him out of sheer relief, this was not the time or place for such high emotions. So she’d gotten to work on healing his wounds after he’d transformed back – but only after the others had been found and pulled out from under the rubble.

“It’s all right,” she reassures. “It was startling, yes, but I knew it was you. It was incredible, actually, but also not too surprising now that I know what it is."

He’s stunned, but hides it quickly with a clearing his throat and a deepened frown. “How so?”

“I didn’t see all of the battle you and Captain Kuchiki did with the Quincy, but what I did see was amazing. You froze the Quincy’s shield in mid-air, within a second. A-And then you froze the Quincy completely! I thought for sure he was defeated then, truly.”

He nods to himself, remembering. “So did I. He gave us more than we bargained for in the end.”

 “At least he’s gone.” Momo sighs, and with it, a weight is released. “At least…it’s over.” It’s like a vice has loosened around her head and chest. She lets out a shuddering breath and her eyes become watery. “We’re okay, now.”

“We’ll have a lot to do when we get back, it’s not…” Toshiro trails off when he meets her gaze again. His hand twitches at his side, clearly resisting moving it. After a beat, his lips shape into a faint smile and he let’s out a short, tired chuckle. “You gonna cry, bed-wetter?”

She can’t even be mad at the nickname, she becoming too overwhelmed. “No, it’s not the time and place to.” Even as she says this, she’s furiously wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

He shrugs. “No one would blame you.”

“But it’s like you said, we need to focus on the task at hand.” She gestures to the others a short distance away. “On transporting the injured back and figuring out what our next steps are.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” His smile widens a fraction. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Despite herself, she can’t help but grin back. She sniffs and looks down. “I’m just so glad it’s over.”

He only nods with a hum.

A silence passes between them, and Momo slowly realises her own exhaustion. She has enough energy to cast lower powered kido, but even then she might be pushing it. She finds herself sitting back against the same piece of broken wall Toshiro is, listening to the distant chatter amongst their friends and wreckage crumbling and falling. She cranes her neck on the rubble’s edge, looking up at the sky.

She’d seen him soar across it hours ago, only a spec at times, and a more recognisable figure at others. At one point, the cold of his reiatsu had washed over her like a gust in a blizzard, freezing and chilling her to bone. It ebbed away minutes later, but it made her realise the magnitude of his powers. She'd wondered if he had this power this entire time and had chosen not to unveil it until now, when he needed it most to protect the Soul Society. If he was capable of this now, who knew what he could achieve in the future.

But then her mind rolls into another thought, one that makes heat rush up the back of her neck to her ears and try to suppress a chuckle.

“What is it?”

By this point Toshiro had closed his eyes.

“It’s nothing important.”

He opens one eye, unconvinced. “The spike your reiatsu said otherwise.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, chastising herself internally for not keeping it under control. She’s tired, but it’s no excuse. She lets out a small chuckle. “I was thinking that, in a funny way, Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form has given us a glimpse into the future. It’s shown us what you’ll look like when you grow up.”

She had meant it as a tease, to try and lighten the mood, but Toshiro’s frown deepens. As if realising his reaction was unexpected, he let’s out a snort. “Anything can happen between now and then to change how I look.”

The usual bite is not there. The response itself is strange, too.

Before she can ask, her captain comes up to both of them, asking for her help with moving Aikawa’s injured leg into a makeshift splint.

As she rises and leaves with her captain, Toshiro’s smile fades away, and he stares into his lap. No, into something else.

___________________________________

There was a time where future went as far as Granny.

What would she need today? What days was she planning to go out and shop? Would he need to help her with?

When would she pass away?

Toshiro never lingers on that last thought, always distracting himself with whatever he could. At the moment, it’s with sweeping the house and yard.

He’s up to the front porch, pushing the dust and dirt off the edge with the broom. Granny is inside, sewing a new garment together for him.

“You’ve grown again,” she’d remarked earlier with a smile. “You’ll need new clothes now.”

As far as he could tell he hadn’t. The ground seemed to be as far away as it was a week ago, and he hadn’t put on any weight. But he had to admit his clothes the last few days had seemed a fraction shorter at his legs and tighter around his shoulders.

It’s a few minutes later when he hears yelling. A group of children rush past his house, some giggling, others chattering about Momo, who's at the center of attention. She excitedly tells them her application exam date, beaming so wide it must hurt her cheeks.

When was she going to the Academy?

That one stung, and he ignores it with a sweep of the brush.

Months ago, he’d asked Jidanbo what it took to become a Shinigami. The giant was just as surprised as Toshiro had expected him to be.

“Have you changed your mind about not going, Toshiro-kun?” Jidanbo had asked.

“No,” is all he said.

Realising he wasn’t going to elaborated, Jidanbo had shrugged and said, “First, you must have spiritual potential and the ability to show it. You go to the Shinigami Academy, where you learn to become a Shinigami. The exam to get in is tough, sometimes you have to take it multiple times --” he'd rubbed the back of his neck “ -- like I did. My brother was more lucky, he only took the exam once and got in. Once you’ve passed, you’re enrolled in the next semester and that’s about it.”

Toshiro already know even if Momo didn’t get a pass on the exam the first time, she’ll go for it again and again and again, until she was enrolled.

He’d seen her enthusiasm long before this. The day she’d rushed to him, her cheeks flushed and her hair whipped around her from running to find him, and taken him back to his house to show him what she’d just accomplished. She’d cupped her hands together, and several seconds later, a white glow emanated from between the gaps in her fingers. When she’d pulled her hands apart, the orb radiating in her palms broke apart into smaller orbs that floated away. Momo chortled in delight, and Toshiro almost did the same. When she was this joyous it was often contagious, especially when he eyes are so wide with wonder and elation.

What had stopped him was a single thought, one that shot through him and made him realise just how far he’d let her into his life.

One day, she’ll be gone. 

____________________________

The next time Momo sees Toshiro is on her way to the First Division. Shinji runs ahead of her on the walkway, listing off the topics they will need to discuss with Kyoraku. She’d been listening intently, but got distracted as they passed Twelfth Division.

From this high up, she couldn’t recognise most of Shinigami out and about, but the moment she saw one with white hair and a short stature and his cold reiatsu faintly emanated up to her, she knew it was Toshiro. He steps out of Twelfth Division’s main barracks, followed by Rangiku. There’s something morose about the way they hold themselves and in their slow walk to the division’s main gate entrance. They come to a stop just as a building blocks Momo view.

“You all right back there?” Shinji asks.

“Sorry, sir! I just saw Rangiku-san and Captain Hitsugaya.”

“Ah.”

“…Are they coming to this meeting too?”

“Nah, just us, Third, and Eighth.” She can hear his grin when he continues after a beat, “Were you hoping to socialise with them?”

“Of course not!” Momo scoffs.

It’s left at that. Still, she thinks back on how they had looked. She’d be sure to visit them sometime soon, if all goes according to plan with the reconstruction of the Districts.

________________________________

Momo found him sitting on the front porch of his house, peeling chestnuts. He hadn’t noticed her at first, but when her footsteps scrapped against the dirt path, he looks up.

“What’re you staring at?” Toshiro asks.

“Sorry, I just came to visit,” she says as she comes closer. “What are these for?”

He senses there’s more to this than just a visit, but he puts it aside for now. “Baa-chan is making chestnut rice tonight. She was going to ask you to come take some back to your house. She always does it in big batches.”

Momo grins. “That’s kind of her.”

Toshiro only shrugs with a huff. Momo’s grin falls into a small, unsure smile. He’s quick to pick up a nut from the tub in front of him, peel the shell off with a small knife, then put it with the others ready for Granny.

“In that case, do you mind if I help?” Momo says. “I can’t let her do that for me and my friends without helping her.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I want to.”

She makes herself comfortable next to him. She takes a spare knife from the tray he’d brought out, then collects several chestnuts from the tub. He opens his mouth, but shut it after she starts peeling. What had he wanted to say? Did he want to tell her to leave? Did he want to ask about the Academy?

Save for the knifes cracking open and peeling the shells, there’s silence between them. In front of her, the day passes, clouds moving across the sky and the sun shining down on the swaying trees and lively Junrinan a short distance away.

After a moment, Momo pauses as she takes another chestnut. In his periphery, she fiddles with it between her hands, as if trying to wring something out of it. She puts the knife to the chestnut, but is slow to peel the shell away.

She nervous, perhaps gearing herself up to say something. He already knows she’s going to Academy, remembers her loud declaration to Granny several weeks ago that was equal parts ecstatic and anxious. He didn’t want to reflect on his behaviour since she announced it, but he knows he’s become more sullen towards her.

Granny chastised more than once him, saying he should be happier for her and congratulate her; but he can’t ignore the tightness in his chest every time he thinks about her leaving. He hates that she had become a annoying and welcomed constant in his live for the last few decades, and even worse, that he had imagined what the future – whether it was the next week or the next year – would be like, and she was there in his imaginings, along with Granny and Jidanbo. Never used to even think about the future, his life had been repetitive until she came along.

After taking off the chestnut’s shell, Momo stops. “Can I ask you something?”

Toshiro continues peeling. “Hm?”

“Even if you don’t become a Shinigami, can we still be friends?”

Toshiro halts. His brows furrow, but he still doesn’t look at her. “What’s with that question?”

“I mean, while I’m at the Academy we won’t be seeing each other too much. And when I become a Shinigami, it’ll be even less. We’re friends, and, um…I want to stay friends, even when we’ve grown up.”

Her voice wavers towards the end, losing what confidence she’d built up to speak to him.

Toshiro blinks down at the chestnut in his hands. Somewhere around them, the leaves rustle in the wind, and a bird chirps and another caws back in response. The last parts of the shell fall away.

“You might be different by then,” he says solemnly, still unable to look at her.

Momo presses her lips into a tight line. “Well, of course. Everyone changes as they grow up. They become more mature and responsible.”

“Not all adults are.”

“Most though.” She drops her chestnut into the peeled pile. “I don’t know how often I’ll be allowed to visit, but I’ll write to you as often as I can.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll be doing your Shinigami stuff, you won’t have time.”

“B-But I want to.”

He finally looks at her. At the hurt that flickers through her eyes, he wants to take it back. She obviously hadn’t expected this coldness from him. Yes, his usual bratiness can make him say some hurtful things on occasion, but this is different for her. This was a side of him she rarely saw, and it’s a side she is never on the end of.

But what’s the use? She’ll go to the Academy and forget about him. She’ll make new, better friends. Ones she can go into the future with and who can understand the struggles and triumphs she’ll experience as a Shinigami.

“Do whatever you want then.”

His comment doesn’t ease the turmoil in her, with her gaze falling off to the side and her shoulders slumping. She’s on the verge of a sob, but she bravely keeps it back. “Are you saying you don’t think we should be friends anymore?”

It’s an opening he should take. He has to start letting her go, so it won’t hurt so much when she turns away, and stops being a part of his future.

“I…I’m not saying that.” He’s weak. “I’m just being realistic. You’ll be busy, you won’t have the time to write to us.”

It’s not the answer she expects. Her eyes widen and her lips part, but she doesn’t speak for several heartbeats. She's stuck between being confused and stunned. “I-I’d make time. Of course I’d make time!”

Her earnestness and fierce determination fracture what little resolve he had left. “Well then, let’s see you try.”

_____________________________

Momo glances at Toshiro from across the meeting hall.

He’d just stepped back into line after reporting on his areas for reconstruction. His division is doing well, ahead of schedule in fact.

Normally the thought would make her happy. He’s always been a hard worker; never for the sake of wanting to one-up another or show off, but because he wanted to do good for others. It was one of her favourite things about him.

But something about him is different. The war against the Quincy and taking in the total devastation it had caused had affected all of them, changing each of them in both subtle and obvious ways.

Toshiro holds himself differently. There’s the usual stoicism on his face, and the straight, pulled back shoulders and slightly raised chin that have been a part of his posture since he became a captain.

It’s his hands. They’re curled in loose fists at his side. Something is on his mind, and whatever it is, it’s causing him to be tense. His gaze shows he’s present, now listening to Mayuri give his report into his latest findings, but there’s something going on in the back of his mind he can’t escape from.

She wishes she could cross the room and take one of his hands.

_____________________________

“Don’t bother coming back, bed-wetter!”

Please come back.

And she must see through him, because her high spirits aren’t dampened as she continues to smile and wave at him. He’ll never understand how she can be so cheerful so often.

Eventually, she has to turn away from him and navigate her way through the growing crowds. After she vanishes and as Granny gently chastises him for his rudeness, he can’t dismiss the thought that haunts him. The same thought that had made him try to disconnect from her weeks ago.

What if she doesn’t?

_____________________________

Momo watches Toshiro ponder over the map of the North districts. Each was outlined in the colour of the division that has jurisdiction over them, Fifth Division’s in turquoise and Tenth Division’s in dark green.

“So we’ll tackle this area together,” Shinji says while drawing his finger along the border between the North districts nineteen and twenty. “It makes sense seeing as our jurisdictions are night next to each other. Also, saves us on costs if you go with shared resources, right?”

Both Toshiro and Rangiku nod.

“Have you brought this up with the Captain Commander yet?” Toshiro asks.

“Not yet. We went to a meeting about…” he lifts his gaze to the ceiling of Tenth Division’s office, trying to recall.

“It’s was a month ago, sir,” Momo quietly offers.

Shinji snaps his fingers. “Yes, thank you, Hinamori! Geez, we’ve been to so many meetings lately I’m getting them confused.”

Toshiro scoffs. Momo tries not to smile in response; it’s the first normal, in-character thing she’s seen him do since they arrived.

“Anyway, at that meeting, the Captain Commander suggested a few ways we can save on costs for the reconstruction efforts, one of which was shared resources. Sure you got told the same whenever you went to you met with him yourselves." Shinji jerks his thumb towards Momo. “My lieutenant here suggested we collaborate on the districts that border with other divisions, like yours.”

Momo can’t help but lift her chin a little at the credit her captain gave her. Sometimes he had a way of making one feel accomplished, even over the smallest things.

Rangiku grins. “It’s a great idea, and not surprised that it came from you, Hina-chan.”

Momo laughs nervously. “Rangiku-san…”

“Stop, you’ll make her overheat,” Shinji teases.

“Sir, honestly!” Momo retorts.

He only laughs, but he eyes Toshiro. So he’d noticed it too. Normally situations like this riled her childhood friend up, made him shout something along the lines of ‘We need to focus right now!’ or simply glare at him. Toshiro’s eyes were on the map, jumping to all the districts under his jurisdiction.

It was barely perceptible, but Momo could see with each district he eyes, a little more weight is added to his shoulders.

Shinji quickly returns things to the business at hand. Several minutes later, her captaina nd Toshiro agree to do reconstruction together.

As Shinji and Rangiku start on a plan, Toshiro stands up rorm the couch. “I’ll go get a pot of tea.”

“Do you need assistance with that?” Momo asked, ready to rise up.

He shakes his head. “No, thank you.”

He leaves while Rangiku and Shinji continue to hash out a plan. His walk would not seem out of the ordinary to most, Momo saw the weight in his shoulders from before, and just as she’d noticed when she first arrived, that he forced himself to stared straight ahead, and not once at her.

___________________________

He regrets every bad thing he’s ever said to her. Every angry exclamation. Every promise or important day he’d forgotten. Every time he scared her for a laugh when they were children. Every tease about her.

He barely manages a landing, his whole body numb with horror. Ice keeps breaking around them. He can hear yelling, but it’s muffled around the ringing in his ears. For the first time in his life, he’s too cold.

She finally stirs, and her hazy, fading eyes stare up at him. He shakes and can barely breathe. He might collapse, but she’s keeping him rigid and frozen in place. She says his nickname, a pierces through him, hitting a part of him that he always associated with first meeting her. The memory of it, the feeling of someone finally looking at him like he wasn’t so different, and letting it warm him into a fleeting sense of security.

“…Why?”

Something in him shatters. 

He should’ve been kinder. Why hadn’t he been? Because he’d been a child who didn’t know better when they first met. Because he’d been alone for so long he didn’t know how to interact with others. Because he’d been scared. Because he’d let her in too far. Because he didn’t know a life without her anymore.

____________________________

An evening breeze blows through the streets of the South Second district, swaying the lanterns of restaurants and brushing Momo’s hair over her shoulders. It reminds her she needs to get it cut, but then she had thought of –

“That was a really good meal.”

Momo looks over to Rangiku , who interlaces her fingers and stretches her arms over her head with a grin.

“It was,” Momo says with her own smile. “I’m glad you recommended that place. We should take the other Women’s Association members there sometime.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. I wanted to try it out with you first.” She winks as she lowers her arms. “It’s been a while since we had a girls night out, huh?”

Momo’s smile widens. After recovering from the battle in the Fake Karakura Town and being discharged from Fourth Division, Rangiku had arranged for the two of them to have lunches and dinners together. They’d be casual mostly, chatting about work for only a short while before moving on to longer discussions about their hobbies, who they’d caught up with lately, and there were a few times they’d left wherever they'd eaten from and gone shopping together. Every now and then, particularly in the beginning, their chatter would turn sombre. They’d reflect on what had happened, whether it was Aizen’s betrayal or Gin’s death, and it took some effort to return the conversation back to something lighter.

Momo remembers the look that would come over Rangiku’s face during those moments. As her friend stares ahead into the growing crowds, she can see hints of that old expression. Her eyes are hooded, her eyes take on a glassiness, and she ignores things – like the loud cheering of an izakaya they pass by, or the sprinting children that almost bump into them before dodging off to the side. What was most telling though was Rangiku didn’t comb her fingers through her hair and complain about the wind ruining her hairstyle.

Like Toshiro, something had been bothering her, but unlike him, she seems to be bouncing back from it quicker. Still, she had moments like this where she grew quiet and solemn. It sends a twinge through Momo’s chest. “Can I ask you something, Rangiku-san?”

Her friend blinks and “Hm?”

Momo’s hesitation catches up to her. She’d wanted to ask before she’d come to dinner, but at seeing Rangiku being her usual boisterous and jolly self, the question had faded into the background.

“I was wonder…”

If she asks her now, she can finally know what happened. Of course, it wouldn’t be Rangiku’s place to say what happened to Toshiro…but what if it was the same thing that affected her?

“…I was wonder if you, uh…”

Momo recalls the two of them leaving Twelfth that day over a month ago, and the chances are whatever it was…

“Do you have any style recommendations for my hair? I was thinking of growing it out rather than getting it cut again.”

Without realising, Rangiku had brought them to a stop in the middle of the street. Souls pass around them, some with skeptical or awed looks, others completely ignoring them. The wind dies down, leaving Rangiku hair slightly frizzy. There’s a gentle smile on her lips, and a knowing look briefly comes across her eyes. Had she known what Momo truly wanted to ask?

But she couldn’t bring herself to, not when it occurred to her that asking Rangiku would potentially expose what has been bothering Toshiro too. She didn’t want to put her friend in an uncomfortable position, but with a tightening of her heart, it dawns on her that asking Toshiro would only do the same for Rangiku.

She’d trapped.

“Yeah, I can think of a few,” Rangiku eventually says. "I'll bring some ideas at the next Women's Association."

Momo blinks.

Rangiku had spoken quietly, uncharacteristic given that hair and fashion were topics she often spoke fervently about. Momo manages to take a deep breath in that looks natural enough, and then a small smile. “I thought you would. Thank you.”

____________________________

Come back.

Toshiro pleads it in silence to the night sky on another sleepless night.

He’d known her for so long, had let her become his closest friend. Her being there as they grew older, as they rose up the ranks of the Shinigami and protected the Seireitei, was an inevitability. How naïve he had been. For all of his posturing and talk of responsibilities and knowledge that any of his subordinates could die on missions, she had somehow become the exception.

Somehow, she would live on forever with him.

How can he have clung to such childish ideals?

Come back, he pleads again. I know now. I want things to be different.

_________________________________

Shafts of the sunrise spill into Momo’s room. She sits up before her alarm clock goes off. Rubbing her eyes and lifting the blanket away, she starts her day.

Nerves thrum through her, and no matter what she tells herself or how many times she goes over the plan for today, they don’t settle.

Today is their first day working together with Tenth Division.

After bathing and changing into her uniform, she steps up the mirror to brush her hair. After a few minutes, she takes up her hair clip and clips it in place.

She stares at her reflection, and after a beat, worries her bottom lip. She sighs and lowers her head with tightly shut eyes. How is she going to get through today?

_____________________________

Momo bound up the stairs towards him. Her recently cut hair tousles around her, and she beams widely. She’s obviously dying to tell him something, even shouts his nickname. Perhaps because they’re not in vicinity of his subordinates or the other Captains and Lieutenants, or perhaps because her joy is so often infectious, he chooses not to shout the usual correction at her.

In fact, Toshiro can't help but smile. He’s been doing that more lately.

He decided to be more open, with her first, and eventually with others.

When she stops in front of him and began to gush over a new project she was working on with her division, he has trouble covering up the reaction he has to the relieved, cathartic ache in his heart. Her forgiveness is still raw, even after all these months. Thankfully, she’s so caught up in her excitement she doesn’t see him briefly glance away to regain his composure.

The future was brighter, but the fact there was even a future with her after everything is a blessing all of it’s own.

_____________________________

From a distance, Toshiro orders his and a few of Fifth Division’s officers to do various tasks, and after they disperse, he goes to the next group.

Momo looks back to the map of North District Nineteen and continues outlining the area she and her subordinates will work on. In her periphery, Shinji finishes speaking with Takaya and Katsuro, and makes his way over to Toshiro before he can reach the group.

She tries to ignore the exchange, but her ears unwittingly tune in, catching bits and pieces of their conversation over the shouts of subordinates, sandals crunching in the dirt, and equipment being unloaded from carts. From what she’d (unintentionally) been able to tell, they discuss their findings so far.

She keeps a wince from reaching her face and she recalls their brief meeting this morning. She only gave Toshiro a glance, keeping her eyes either on Rangiku or somewhere behind the two of them. Toshiro retained a stoic exterior, even made a few pointed comments towards Shinji like he did when her captain annoyed him, but that heaviness in his shoulders and eyes is still there. She wishes she could just wave it away, like the wind pushing the clouds across the sky overhead.

It had been over a month since the war ended. He hasn’t said anything to her, and she can’t tell of it’s because of the work they’ve had to do or because he doesn’t want to. Was he concerned for Rangiku? Was it something he didn’t think she’d understand? Would it hurt her?

She shakes her head. She repeatedly tries to tell herself it’s none of her business, but her concern and burgeoning frustration doesn’t waver. Both grow when she can sense, for only several seconds, his gaze on the side of her face.

_____________________________

He doesn’t recall anything of his time as a ‘zombie’ to the Quincy, nor does he want to.

The last thing he remembered was collapsing, his ice shattering around him. Time slowed, as in that moment he thought about how this could be the end. It certainly felt like it was. He was so weak, so very tired and hurting, but he was still awake when the shadow fell over him.

However, the old cliché he���d been told about didn’t happen. He didn’t think on or remember his past. He didn’t despair that he was dying.

He'd thought about Rangiku, dying below, with no one to help her.

He'd thought about his subordinates, who would be without a captain again.

As a darkness began to settle around the edges of his blurred vision, he thought about Momo. He’d sensed her before, she’d been far away from where he was. She reiatsu had been strong, she was all right.

He didn’t need to protect her. Yet he still wanted to see her. For the last few seconds before the darkness took over and muffled footsteps and a sickly sweet voice reach his ears, he thought about the fact he won’t be there in her future.

His next memory is of being put in the recovery tanks along with Rangiku. At the time he’d been exhausted from the procedure Mayuri had made him endure – he vaguely recalls Mayuri half sarcastically marveling, “I’m quite surprised you’re conscious right now.”

He was lifted and secured into the tank by Nemu. Mayuri had watched him, and didn’t approach until Nemu stepped aside. He’d spoken at him, but Toshiro wavered between consciousness and falling into a warmer darkness and only caught sections of his sentences.

“The tank will complete the de-zombification…Consider yourself…Lieutenant is…My procedure took…years off your lifespan, but…we’ll take you to the Palace, no doubt you will…”

And the tank lid had lowered as Toshiro bowed his head. As he drifted into unconsciousness, his mind clung to one part of what Mayuri had said.

My procedure took…years off your lifespan…

He vaguely remembered thinking he must have misheard.

He hadn't focused on it when he awoke again and left the tank, choosing instead to thank Mayuri and rush off into the fray with Rangiku. She surely heard too, but he'd kept quiet about it. He’d been truly grateful and yet, that piece of information, it lingered quietly in the back of his mind.

He’d focused on the fight against the Giant Quincy, and had to resort to using Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form. He thought only of battle strategies and ways to keep his enemy distracted from either destroying the Soul Society below or from causing further harm to those still in the area. 

It's now hours after the Quincy had evaporated away, and he and Byakuya found Momo and Shinji, safe.

She's been clearly startled by his appearance. He didn't know what to expect, had never really thought about her reaction to seeing him like this, but he dislikes her being so confused and unsure. Certain there's no immediate danger in their vicinity and with Byakuya scouting the area, takes her aside to explain the Completed Form.

Shock turns recognition, and then finally to relief. He can't help but feel she same moments later when he's transformed back and she heals his injuries. It's only a few minutes later when Mayuri’s words fully hit him. From then on, he can barely look her in the eye.

_____________________________

The setting sun halos Toshiro's hair, and his shadow casts long over the rubble. He stands alone, arm folded and back facing those a short distance away, clearly lost in thought.

In different circumstances, it would’ve posed as quite the striking image for Momo; one she would be tempted to capture in either her drawings or as a photo on her denreishiki.

His subordinates walk around her, gathering up the materials and equipment they’d used. She didn’t have to interact with him at all today, and even if she did, she’s not sure how she would go about it.

Somewhere behind her, Shinji calls out for officers to help with lifting some of the ruins into carts to be cleared off. She turns to go and assist, but its hard to take her eyes off her friend. The turmoil from earlier arises. She can’t ask him what's wrong, and he won’t even look at her unless she doesn't notice. Still, she can’t leave him as is.

With a deep breath in, and then out, she walks to him.

Her steps crunch from the smaller pieces of rubble and dirt, and alert him to her approach. He half twists around to her, and it causes her to stop more than an arms length away.

“I was wondering…” She hadn’t thought about what to say. But with a light snort, she manages. “Sorry, I was wondering if you had any further plans for Higuchi-san or Takagaki-san. We need some help with clearing the wreckage into the carts.”

Toshiro blinks, as if coming out of deep thought. With a small shake of his head, he turns back to the sunset. “No, I have nothing for them. Their performance was good, if you need to know.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll be sure to tell my Captain. They’re both hard workers, so that isn’t too surprising to hear.”

“I sent them with Narita to set up the rations for distribution. They should be finished by now.”

Momo swallows against the growing tightness in her throat. She gives a nod, not trusting her words, and only lingers for a few seconds more before turning to go. She wants to kick herself for not coming up with something better, something that would make her stay with him a bit longer and force him to talk with her.

She’s taken ten steps when Toshiro calls to her.

“Wait, Hinamori.”

She looks over her shoulder, squinting against the setting sun. She can’t make out his expression, but his arms now rest at his sides, and his shoulders are higher, straighter. There’s a resoluteness there, but somehow also a reluctance.

He approaches her, but stops after a few steps. He speaks lowly, and it’s hard to make out what he says. She has no choice but to come closer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said, Captain.”

The corners of his mouth fall and tighten into a scowl – not directed at her, she’s certain.

“When we’re done here, I want to discuss something with you,” he repeats. “I assume you don’t have time for today so I –”

“I do!” Momo would normally balk at her boldness – especially for interrupting someone, let alone a Captain. But it was if she’d been holding her breath on the brink of passing out, and now she was desperate to get air. “I-I’ll have time after we’re done here. We can talk.”

Toshiro had been surprised, but shifts his expression back to neutral. “It won’t take long. Let’s load those carts first and get back to Tenth Division.”

He walks past her, and for a moment, it's as if the heaviness within him lingers over her. Whatever this would be, she's both eager and dreading to know.

____________________________

“How long do Souls live for?”

Toshiro rolls his eyes. Ever since she got here, Momo had been full of questions. She’s more curious than the average Soul, wanting to know every little detail about her new world she called home. Just a few minutes ago she’d asked a range of questions about what rules she needs to follow she didn’t end up in trouble – as he answered her, it reminded him of telling Jidanbo the Rules of City for the first time.

Before he answers her current question, he kicks a small hill of snow just in front of them, sending a white spray into the care tree they stood under. “It depends. Some live for a few decades, others live for thousands of years.”

Over the many layers she wore up to her the bottom half of her face, Momo’s eyes widened in wonder. “Really? That’s such a long time.”

“Not to them,” he says. “Time here is different to the World of Living, or so I’ve heard.”

“Thousands of years…you can do so much in that time!”

She starts listing off various activities and adventures one could do for over a thousand years, all the while her eyes shone, and when a scarf loosened from around her face, it revealed her wide grin.

He doesn’t understand her glee. Was this something specific to Souls that came from the World of the Living? Humans lived far shorter lives than Souls; perhaps the idea of being able to live that long appealed to them. He’d been born in the Junrinan, he knew only this world, and from what Granny had told him, ten years here likely felt like a year in the World of the Living.

He let’s her go on and on with her list, but when she comes to an end, breathless, she says, “Do Souls know how long they’ll live for?”

He lets out a bewildered snort. “Of course not!”

“Oh…” That dampens her enthusiasm, as if he’d popped a bubble. Before he can feel any guilt, she turns her attention back to the silhouette of the Seireitei in the distance. “So, I guess this means the Shinigami in there have been alive for a long time then.”

He shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

It’s several heart beats later when her grin returns, but there’s a softness to it. “I hope we get to live for over a thousand years.”

He’s taken aback. We? Why 'we'? Why not ‘I’?

He wants to ask, but fears he’ll embarrass himself. So instead, he ponders on it in silence as she continues to admire the Seireitei’s silhouette. Did she mean it as a friend? That she saw them being in the future together?

Granny had been the only person who saw a future with him, planning their days with what items he’d have to go out and buy and what shrines or places they needed to visit together in the coming month.

Something about another seeing him in their future made bite the inside of his lip against the painful pang in his chest. Somehow, though, it also made him happy.

“What if we did?”

He hadn’t realised he’d asked the question aloud until Momo swivels her head back to him. “Hm?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“You mean if we live for over a thousand years?” He cringes inwardly as she considers. Her grin widens after a beat. “We’d have a lot to do, I’m sure of it!”

____________________________

Momo stares mutely at Toshiro, and then at some point, through him, and then into nothing. He shifts his gaze to the side, staring hard at the corner of the training room.

Just behind them, Fifth and Tenth Division officers shared a meal together in one of Tenth Division’s courtyards around a fire, chattering and laughing amongst themselves. Even in her shock, Momo ended up hearing her captain laugh loudly at one of his own jokes, but she can’t bring herself to smile or cringe.

She and Toshiro sit by the training room's entrance, mostly in the shadows. A strip of moonlight comes between them through the doorway, falling over his left foot and her folded knees. He sits half against the wall, his left knee bent and his arms resting in his lap. It would appear to some as the most relaxed he’s ever looked, but this is one of the few times she’s seen him look resigned.

He’d just recounted to her how a Quincy had taken control over him with her blood, and then how Mayuri had restored him. It had all made sense up until that point, but not what he’d just said. No, it was more like she didn’t want the sentence to be true, refused to let it be a part of what he'd already said.

She brings her gaze back to him as a small tremor runs through her hands. “I don’t understand,” she struggles to say. “What do you mean? How can you live for only three hundred more years?”

She thinks he won’t answer her, too overcome by whatever emotions rush through him. However, he takes a sharp breath in, but continues to stare off to the side. “Kurotsuchi says that’s at most, but it’s at least one hundred and fifty years. The procedure he used on me was crude by his standards, something he cobbled together while we were battling the Quincy. As a result of that and what the Quincy did to me, my lifespan has been reduced.”

“You’ve acting differently lately --” her voice catches, and her vision becomes misty “-- now I understand why.”

A quiet, strangled sound comes from Toshiro. “Matsumoto thought it was best to tell you.”

And it’s all the confirmation she needs that Rangiku is facing the same tragedy. She must have seen Momo’s dilemma that night they ate out, and decided to make things easier by encouraging Toshiro to tell her. She could cry for that alone, but she won’t; she’ll speak with her later.

She bows over, fisted hands bunching her uniform at the knees. “I-I don’t know what to say,” she laments. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

That strikes something within him. He shifts, his back fully pressing against the wall and moving his foot out of the moonlight. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she can make out the furrow in his brow twitching and the corner of his mouth dropping into a grimace.

His gaze goes to the ceiling. “I didn’t want to say anything,” he admits. “There’s nothing I can do.”

The catch in his voice is enough to make her move over to him, coming to sit next to him, their shoulders grazing and her knee bumping up against his. She rarely sits so close to him, feeling they should maintain a small distance between them, but this felt right. And judging from his lack of comment or shrugging away, he thinks the same.

“I’m sorry for what I said at the Palace.”

He blinks and finally looks at her. “What?”

She can’t help but be a little relieved he’d forgotten her comment, but winced at having to bring it up now. “I said Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form was a glimpse into the future. How careless of me.”

He shakes his head, but still doesn’t seem to remember. “It’s fine, you weren’t to know.”

“Even so, I should have been more considerate. That form is part of your zanpakuto, not something to be joked about.”

“You were shocked by it, and we’d come out of a battle and Yhwach was defeated, it’s understandable.”

She considers, and then admits, “And we were really tired, I guess.”

That gets a huff of a humoured snort out of him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes or shape his into a faint smile.

The urge to hold his hand comes over her again. Unlike that meeting from a few weeks ago, she doesn’t resist it this time. She takes the one closest to her. It’s the one that been regrown with hojiku-zai, the original lost on the battlefield at the Fake Karkura Town. She doesn’t hold his conventionally, choosing instead to lay her hand on the underside, and her fingers loosely come between his.

She watches him tilts his head down, staring at their hands. Something soft flits over his face, something akin to being pleasantly surprised.

For not the first time, she thinks on how she never imagined all those decades ago he would lose and replace a hand. Just as she’d never imagined what they went through because of Aizen, or the battles they fought against Hollows and Quincy, or the people they’ve lost under their watch. They’d been through so much, perhaps too much for Souls their ages.

Despite the time and effort it will take to rebuild the Soul Society, she had been thinking that peace was finally going to be restored. She was going to be happy again, with her friends and subordinates. She was going to ask Toshiro out to lunches more often, and finally sit with whatever her feelings for him were. The ones she’s can’t put a name too, but feels she’s just on cusp of doing.

Had he thought about these sort of things too? About what he had been through and the future he may not have anymore? If that was the case, it’s no wonder he didn’t want to bring it up. It’s enough for one of her tears to roll out the side of her eye.

She’s quick to wipe it with her free hand, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Toshiro.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps.

She shakes her head. “Why are you apologising? You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“No, it’s not that. I didn't want to...”

He hesitates, and when he doesn’t continue, Momo finishes it for him. "Hurt me?"

He blinks, surprised she had guessed the rest. It still astounds her that he can't see the good within himself, but always in others.

"You don't need to apologise. When I saw something was bothering you, I wanted to know."

She senses there's more, a second apology he wants to make. When he doesn't, she stares straight ahead.

“We Shinigami are taught and prepared to die in battle for Humans and our friends,” she continues. “If we’re lucky, we can reach an old age with our accomplishments. Thinking about how long we'll live for is not something we're supposed to contemplate, our focus is on our duties and responsibilities. Even so, we’re not meant to die like this. You’re not meant to --”

He snorts again, and the faintest, saddest smile shapes his lips. “You’re not Reio, Hinamori,” he says, and she can imagine in another setting it would be a tease. “And even if you were, you doubt you would have the power to change this. I have accepted it's a likely possibility, and I will plan ahead accordingly. I never thought about how long I would live for --" his shoulders deflate with a shaky breath "-- and I shouldn't."

"Nothing is set in stone," she says, fiercely.

She’s always considered herself an optimist, perhaps to a fault. She remembers being more hopeful for the future when she was younger. Maybe that’s what came with growing up, you lose a little bit of hope every year, and cling to what still remains – foolishly, she suspects some think, but not her.

With a thick swallow, she lists her head up to the ceiling. “You said before that Captain Kurotsuchi was working on a way to restore your lifespan, right?”

“Yes.”

She mirrors the faint smile he'd had moments ago, but in her misty eyes there’s something less fragile. She tightens her grip on his hand. “Then let’s hope he does.”

It doesn’t dissolve his grief and cynicism -- she knows he hates leaving something he feels responsible for in the hands of others, and she can’t imagine what it must feel like to put your life in the hands of Twelfth Division’s captain. She has not words she can offer to console him or give him a new perspective of this. She has her own emotions to deal with too, ones of helplessness and a flickering hope, small but bright.

Her heart throbs when he flips his hand around and interlaces his fingers between hers in a tight grip. It's all they can do for now as a cloud passes over the moon and the laughter continues outside.

[alloutofgoddesses]

PJO TV Thoughts

S1,E6

(There will be book mentions/spoilers)

Can’t lie to y’all im on my second week of this semester and already just so eepy

Okay the first line does tell you exactly what’s happening in this dream but I was so confused by it being Percy’s headmaster from Yancy

Anyway omg I swear you can see Luke in the reflection like it’s gonna be so obvious it’s not Clarisse on rewatches

WE GOT “Little Hero”

Cracker Barrel! What o would give to eat at a Restaurant rn

A SECOND SEAWEED BRAIN HAS HIT THE PERCABETH TOWERS

(I am aware others have made that joke)

Omg hi Luke

Good not being sus Luke

ARREST HER?!?! Percy wtf

Luke I’m positive you would know what Ares is like

OOP if Luke picks up on it IMMEDIATELY…

The episode is titled “A Zebra Takes Us To Vegas” AND WE INLY GET A SECOND OF A ZEBRA ON SCREEN?!?!

Anybody else see the Geia fashion billboard or just me

Way to be obvious about it

“I had a premonition that we fell into a rhythm/where the music don’t stop for life” I think that Levitating was chosen WITH INTENTION for these lyrics only

ODYSSEY MENTION

Graphic novels do count

ODYSSEUS MENTION

Oh besties… the lotus eaters have upgraded darlings

WISE GIRL WISE GIRL WEE WOO WEE WOO IT’S HAPPENING EVERYONE STAY CALM

The fact that they haven’t shown Grover eating garbage yet… cowards. COWARDS.

I do think that them knowing takes tension out of it but they think that it’s okay unless they eat something

CASTELLAN LORE ALREADY

A Saytr?? I’m saying that TV screen image is a sun so APOLLO MENTION

A gay satyr?!!! The subtext

Oh? I’m compelled certainly what kind of magic does the Lotus have to convince satyrs Pan is there

DREAM TALK

Like you can see extras wearing dated clothes but it’s just not the same

Also I’m waiting for others to find the di Angelos, I know I’m not gonna be able to find anything

(If they cut it out I will lose it)

Are the employees also under the spell? I would have to assume so

Uh oh Grover is forgetting

HE’S HERE

The way his face fell… I’m afraid LMM is eating as Hermes

BTW I saw someone say LMM was a bad choice as Hermes because canonically Hermes has the most children and they don’t think LMM is sexy enough for that… girlie do you not remember what happened when Hamilton came out be SO FOR REAL

At first I thought I wouldn’t be able to seperate actor from character but he’s doing such a good job that’s Hermes I’m sorry (no I’m not)

ORPHEUS MENTION (I’ve helped others [get into the Underworld] before)

Are the fields Italy? Once again folks I’m not gonna be able to find it so I’m reaching out to

Someone looks back I’m guessing

Oh babey the lore the tension

HEY WHAT WAS THAT

My guess is something to do with Gabe or as one brilliant Twitter user said, Percy’s first time at boarding school

YEAH ANNABETH MOVE BABY YOU DON’T DESERVE THAT

(Also how the fuck can Hermes do that)

Sure buddy see you next season

“This was all just a waste of time. We don’t have time to waste.” Oh Annabeth I’m so sorry for what you’re about to learn

I love all the helmets and stuff really lets you know what’s going on

Oh noooooo oh boy oh buddy oh wow that hurt

Sorry he’s making Hermes feel so empathetic which is exactly how he is in the books. He’s good!

OOP

Were those the di Angelos? They were brunette and small (still reaching)

Oh so that’s why they mentioned days earlier I see

HIS KEYS?

Are George and Martha on there are they wondering what’s happening

CENTRAL AIR BABEY

Oh no Percy’s forgetting too

Just rip him out and leave besties

Oh geez they’re never leaving at this rate

Damn there’s that fatal flaw again Percy

RIP Grover playing a human hunter game I will never forget you

Annabeth it was good it really was but you’re right. He is the god of thieves.

Oh boy now we know why they let him drive though

Me when I first started learning how to drive standard

Just in case you forgot Percy is a New Yorker

Oh NO bestie got distracted looking at the princess (his words not mine though I agree) next to him

NO DON’T TURN OFF THE LIGHT I WON’T BE ABLE TO SEE ANYTHING

What did I just say. What is happening on screen

Oh boyyyyyy

He’s just three apples tall

Oh it’s so much worse underwater

SEAWEED HAIR

Wait… were AFTER the summer solstice? WHY

Exactly Percy you gotta finish it

YEEAHHHHHHH

Four?!?! What about ‘you will fail to save what matters most in the end?’ He better lose one I stg

Next ep trailer

Okay so who’s eye is in the credits what do we think

Crusty’s!

Desert and terrible forest?

Okay yeah he definitely loses one or uses one to trick someone or something he said said “you guys leave with my mom”

Oh wait what if he uses it on Crusty… Disney let Percy actually be violent

SWORD FIGHT NEXT EP? At least the beginning

HOLD FAST MOM OHHHHHHHHH OUCH

BONUS: Hermes in cat form

[drabblesaf]

Movie Night Frustration - Steve Harrington Smut

REQUESTED: Nope. I haven’t written for quite a while, and I had a sudden inspiration strike last night (especially after S4 P1 dropped).

WARNINGS: Oral (both receiving), “sir” kink - MINORS DNI PLEASE

SUMMARY: You and Steve are on the night shift at the video store - you’re trying to do work and catch up on the week’s missed jobs, but Steve gets bored easily and needs something more than videos to entertain him. 

NOTES: Uh, hey. So, I’m kind of back? 

Maybe. I’m not sure yet. I’ve been really busy with uni for the past few years (in case you couldn’t tell from my utter lack of posting here) and now I’ve finished everything, I wanted to try and get back into my writing.

May be a bit rusty, so bare with me. I had inspo strike from the new season of Stranger Things, so here we are.

Hope you enjoy guys <3

Working the night shift at the Family Video Store was not how I originally planned on spending this evening. Sure, the pay was good for night shift, I couldn’t fault that. And any of the stock of candy we had left over was pretty much free rein until the next day’s batch came in - even more so once we hit the end of the week and needed to start clearing everything out. Those two things were no problem to me at all. The problem? Steve Harrington.

Steve had changed a lot since his time at Hawkins High. No longer a complete fucking asshat, he’d actually matured into a guy who gave somewhat of a shit. Shocking for the King of Hawkins to have such a redemption arc behind him. Maybe it was the fact he kept hanging out with the kids from sophomore year, Dustin, Mike and Lucas. Maybe it’s because my coworker Robin had actually knocked some sense into his pretty little head. Or maybe…just maybe, Steve was actually thinking seriously about his future and realising that he couldn’t be a dick forever.

Whatever it was, it still didn’t seem to occur to him that he could do his job without picking up chicks at the store - although maybe that was the same case for me too with guys. Somehow, Hawkins still had enough of a single male population that seemed to want to try their luck with the cute girls behind the movie counter, which always ended in Robin giving a heavy eyeroll and me gaining some dude’s home phone number or a reminder that they’d “pick me up at whatever time and we could go find a place to get away from it all”…which would almost always end in them wanting to go to Lovers Lake or Skull Rock, and Steve or Robin covering for me while I camped out in the staff room.

Surprisingly enough, this often worked quite well - I guess the boys were intimidated by my coworkers enough to eventually skulk out of the store, never to return again. This tactic didn’t work on the girls though, but then again, Harrington never seemed to have enough game to be able to woo them. Which is where he was stuck on this particular evening, moping as he stood next to the counter counting out the change in the register. “What’s got you so down in the dumps?” I said, staring at him from across one of the aisles, brush in hand.

“I’m losing my spark, Y/N. Losing my magic touch,” he sighed, idly playing with a cent in his hands.

“What makes you say that?”

“Have you seen the chicks that come in here? None of them are interested in me offering to take them to see the latest films in the cinema. Not a single one.”

“Have you tried just being yourself and not putting the charm offensive on all the time?” I asked, crouching down to remove the DVDs from the bottom shelf so they could get wiped down (those ones in particular always seemed to get some sort of sticky residue on them, and we could never quite explain why).

“Girls don’t like me “being myself��, (Y/N). Unless myself is King Steve, they don’t want to know me.”

“That’s not true, and you know it, Harrington,” I sighed, shaking my head as I carried the DVDs over to the desk, where he was now stood with his head in his hands. I reached over and ruffled his hair slightly, causing him to look up and give me a playful glare.

“Hey, leave the hair out of this,” he chuckled, poking his tongue out at me, before pausing and flicking his tongue over his bottom lip. He did this from time to time, but this time something felt…different. “(Y/N), what do you mean, I know it?” His brown eyes bore into my own, and I felt a shift, as if the world had just had a mass earthquake.

“You should be able to guess, Steve - you’re smart enough after all”, I said, voice wavering slightly. I wasn’t wrong, Steve was in fact very smart - after Nancy and him had split up, he actually put in a decent amount of effort to get his grades back up so he could get through sophomore year without too many issues, which - much to his surprise - he did very well, passing the year with 85% overall. And despite his general act as the King of Hawkins High, he could pick up on social cues well and did try to keep people around him who weren’t…douchebags, for lack of a better term.

He stared at me, raising an eyebrow, and I turned away quickly, busying myself with sweeping the dust off the (now free) bottom shelf. In a sense, there was definitely something that had shifted in the air between us, and it had been something I had been reckoning with for a while now. I’m not sure what it was, but there had definitely been moments between Steve and I that had left me questioning what his motives were every damn time. Did he want something to happen as much as I did?

The night wore on, and we were both beginning to get tired of doing all the chores that needed to be done over the night shift, especially closing up shop. We closed up early on the weekends, purely because most people were out partying or had already decided on what films they wanted for the evening - there wasn’t much chance of any late buyers coming in at the last minute unless it was Valentines Day. I occupied myself with finishing up rearranging the movies on the shelves, while Steve scribbled away in the notebook we had for accounting. “Hey, (Y/N), could you give me a hand? Just want to make sure I have everything accounted for in this, and that I did the math correctly,” he said, and I stood up from the final shelf, dusting my hands off on my jeans.

“Sure, I can do that. Final shelf is good to go, by the way,” I said, walking over to him. I could feel his eyes burning into me as I walked over, shedding my over-fleece that I wore as uniform (since the shop was closed now, there wasn’t much point in keeping it on). I chucked it under the till and pulled up a stool next to Steve, running over the numbers and trying to do quick calculations in my mind. All the while though, I could feel his presence right next to me, as if he was wanting to do or say something. After about 5 minutes of thinking over the sums, I nodded. “All clear, everything’s good to go,” I said, looking up at him. He swallowed slightly, his tongue flicking over his lips again as his eyes moved over my face.

The air got thicker all of a sudden, and it felt like something could happen any moment. “Uh, (Y/N), have you…” he started, and I paused, dropping the pencil to the table in front. He shook his head, mumbling a quick “Fuck it,” before crashing his lips onto mine. The kiss was needy, feverish - almost like it was something he depended on, like a lifeline. His lips and mine moved effortlessly against one another, tongues darting in and out and battling out in a war of dominance. His hands began roaming over my body, holding me steady on the stool as the exploration took place. This was a side I hadn’t expected from him, but I let it happen, moving my hands up to his hair as I did so. 

His lips began moving down from mine to my jaw, trailing their way down to the collar of my shirt - this caused him to pause momentarily, both of us gasping for air as he looked at me, moving a hand up to caress my face gently. I nodded, giving him the permission he sought to take my shirt off, leaving me in my bra and jeans. He resumed his prior actions, lips trailing down my collarbone to one breast, then another. Each of them had kisses pressed to them, before the bra itself was gently pulled down and his lips attached themselves to each nipple, sucking and biting on each one and causing small whimpers to fall from my mouth.

This only seemed to spur him on, and made him suck each nipple more feverishly as if it was his lifeline. Soon after, he realised other areas needed attention too, and his kisses moved further and further down my body until they hovered just above the waistband of my jeans. He looked up at me, and I nodded. “Please, Steve,” I mumbled quietly, and he licked his lips again, turning his attention to the button on my jeans, which he popped open deftly before helping me shimmy the material off my hips. 

He gave a few tentative kisses over my panties, causing some light moans to fall from my mouth, before that material was removed too and nothing was in the way of his tongue. He kissed the area lightly, before licking at it, causing my hips to raise up sharply to meet his mouth, and my hand to fall into his hair. Every single action he made had my body feeling like it was on fire, and very quickly I could feel myself reaching the high I was craving. He was licking and sucking at the area as if it was his entire life force, and it was very quickly getting me to where I needed to be. “Steve, fuck!” I whimpered, my hands tugging at his hair as he moved quicker, bringing a finger into play as well and curling it up right where I needed it. That was enough to bring me over the edge, causing me to scream and gasp as I met the high he’d been trying to elicit from me for so long. He kept lapping at my arousal as wave after wave of pleasure ran through my body, causing me to tremble at every slight touch he created.

After a while I calmed down enough and the room stabilised for a short while, for me to begin to realise that Steve was unbuckling his belt and beginning to remove his jeans. Shakily, I stood up, placing my hands over his and hoping he understood that I wanted to help him. He looked at me as I did this, and said quietly, “You don’t have to, y’know.”

“I want to.” He thought about this for a second and then nodded, allowing me access to the button on his jeans completely. I carefully popped it open, taking my time with the zipper - I wanted to at least try to savour this moment before it went away and we were forced into that pit of realisation of what we were doing with each other. He sighed slightly, bucking his hips up as I pulled his jeans down, looking face to face at his hard-on restrained by his boxers. It was straining to be let out against the cotton, and I could only oblige, causing a hiss to fall from his lips as he was exposed to the air of the store.

I expected him to be packing down there - he was “The King” of Hawkins High, after all - but I didn’t expect him to be bigger than I thought. I cautiously grasped at his cock, causing him to let out a jagged moan and his hand to fall over mine. “Fucking hell, (Y/N). Do you know how much I’ve imagined this scenario?” He grunted, helping to move my hand along his length.

“No, but I could probably guess,” I snarked back, before diverting my attention back to the matter in hand…quite literally. Tentatively, I poked my tongue out and licked a stripe up one of the protruding veins on his member, causing him to groan loudly, the noise only encouraging me further. I licked a few more times before turning my attention to his head, eliciting a louder moan from his lips, followed by several curses. 

“Fuck, so pretty…you’re doing so good sweetheart,” he sighed, hand falling away from mine and slowly coming back up to push my hair out my face, causing me to look up at him as he did so. His lips were slightly parted, and he was looking down at me through his eyelashes, eyes flickering as I looked up with his cock in my mouth. “Shit…so good, fuck. You’re killing me, doll.”

This was the only motivation I needed to keep on with what I was doing, and so I took him further into my mouth, bobbing my head up and down vigorously. It was difficult to keep this up for too long at a time though, purely because he was so damn big - but Steve seemed fine with anything I did as long as I was giving his dick enough attention. Soon, he began to twitch slightly in my mouth, his moans getting louder and his breathing quickening, to which he quickly pulled me off of him with a satisfying pop! He stood up over me kneeling on the floor, jerking his cock vigorously. “Where do you want it angel? Want me to cum in your mouth like the good slut you are? Say it, come on. Tell me, baby.”

“Please cum in my mouth, I’ll take it all in,” I whined - this act alone only served to encourage Steve further. 

“Want you to beg for it properly,” he muttered under his breath, and it took a moment before the gears finally clicked in my head.

“Please, Sir. I want to swallow your cum like the good princess I am for you,” I moaned, feeling myself begin to dampen again. This seemed to work, as barely a minute later the man above me was moaning loudly himself as he reached his own climax, the hot spurts of cum streaming down my throat. As soon as he had finished, I swallowed, opening my mouth to show him that nothing remained in there.

We took a moment to both catch our breath from the experience, and he was the first one to speak. “I think I’ve got my magic touch back, but do you wanna test that theory back at my place?”

“You’re on, Harrington.”

“Hey, that’s Sir to you, princess.”

[dorimena]

𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘

I should've been writing Bakugou’s late birthday post, but after watching the new episode a few days ago, I couldn’t help but finally confirm to myself that yes, I have a growing liking towards Kuroiro and couldn’t help myself. So, enjoy?

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; kuroiro shihei

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.6

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; afab!reader, handjob, masturbation, kuroiro’s a voyeur for you, subby!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; sex toys mentioned, aged up character; Kuroiro is 18

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; there isn’t much Kuroiro content, as far as I managed to find here, less if it’s smut. So, here we go, hopefully I make more. I still have much to learn on how to probably correctly portray him, in other words I feel like he’s a bit ooc.

He likes to hide in the shadows, whether as a harmless prank, to travel from one place to another, but it’s mostly to just easily sneak into your dorm room at night.

Right now, though, he’s still lurking in the shadows of your room, just watching you study at such an ungodly hour, just because you were upset with him accidentally scaring you the other day. He didn’t mean to, but the damage had been done. At least you didn’t leave your dorm room light on to stop him, just sitting there, all pretty, with the desk lamp.

He has no plans leaving the comfort of the shadows yet, not with how it helps not only hide his cute, creepy smile, but to not show off how hard he is. And for what?

All because you’re wearing the shortest shorts you could ever own, and he loves how your legs look with them on; so much longer, increasing how enticing and inviting they look, whether for him to trace words of dramatized affection or leave bite marks before he pleases you to sleep.

Then again, he’s not here to woo you with poetry; he’s here to apologize, for maybe the 6th time this week, and maybe convince you to cuddle on your bed before he’d have to sneak back to his room. After all, he has been leaving you small trinkets and gifts all this time since the incident, and you’ve never really uninvited him over, simply barely acknowledging him before you whisper ‘goodnight’, as if you’d think he’d never hear.

It kind of hurt, but he couldn’t blame you, and maybe it’s time he stops trying to scare you as a form to rile you up into some ‘fun’. There are other ways, right? He can come up with another scheme to make you angry enough to maybe choke him harder, scratch him harder, maybe slap him harder?

“Y/n~” He calls out your name as melodically as possible, as if trying to act like a siren to lure you here into the darkest corner of your room. All he sees, though, is you shuddering before hunching yourself more over your desk.

You only move your head in acknowledgment, humming softly as you turn a page in your book to continue highlighting. This makes him frown, racking his brain for any remark to make you look over here, look over at him. Please.

“My beloved, look at me?” He calls again, using the pet name you enjoy hearing; but you still don’t look over.

So, being the little shit he can be, he calls you out by something he rarely does, unless he’s meticulously teasing you for something in return. A certain name he knew made you flattered but embarrassed.

“Hot stuff, look at me.”

And that has you turning around to look at his favorite corner, narrowing your eyes to catch the sight of his white eyes and teeth. To many, this would make them shit themselves, but for you, it angers you just how proud he looks.

“What did you say?”

There it is, now you’re angry and riled up. And he shudders, feeling tremors going up his body until it reaches his head. He peeks his head out, his white hair finally being seen as he hums.

“Hot stuff, but this time, come here?”

You stand, not before grumpily placing your highlighter in between the pages and pushing your chair quite the distance from your desk. Walking towards him, you cross your arms as you stand intimidatingly close, staring at him as you quietly wait for whatever poem he has prepared this time.

You’ve heard them all, wondering if he knew how you’d stop whatever you were doing to listen closely what he whispers, murmurs, sings out.

But instead, Kuroiro leaves from the shadows and pulls you into a tight hug, a hand resting on your head as he murmurs how sorry he is, how he’s come to reflect his past actions from the incident and previous ones, finally taking into consideration your feelings and possible thoughts. But not without telling you how he’ll compromise his pranks with you as it spices up your relationship from the others in the dorm. He leaves out the part about riling you up until you choke him during sex.

Even if his voice sounds so quiet, so calming in your ear, you can’t help but shift a bit in his embrace until he suddenly goes quiet, a simple hitch of his breath grabbing your attention. What happened?

“Shi?” You ask, looking at him. Whatever anger was in your system quickly drained, in fear you might’ve accidentally hurt him. And what sucks about his quirk is that you can’t ever tell when he’s blushing, but only guess with how his eyes and mouth look.

You feel him grind back- wait, what?

Somehow looking down, you come to see a tent growing in his white sweatpants, poking at your leg.

“How… curious.” You hum, placing your hands on his hips to keep him still.

“Is this new or did you come with this? Is this why you’re apologizing so directly?”

He stutters, his embrace tightening as he subtly tries pressing himself harder against you. He doesn’t deny what you’re telling him, but he also doesn’t confess it’s the truth.

You’re giggling, and even though it’s cute, like, really-cute-he-can’t-wait-to-smother-you-in-kisses, he groans at your slight teasing.

“My beloved. Don’t laugh at my predicament! I cannot help but give way to the temptation placed in front of me.”

Oh, how lovely. But he has a point. You did put on these shorts to simply rile him out of the dark instead of lurk in and around it, but clearly you were still lured in by his, uh, interesting choice of nickname.

“Why’d you call me hot stuff?”

“To get your attention, which is apparently clear to me, it very much worked.”

“You wanted my attention to deal with you or your friend?”

“Both.” Humor sounds in his voice upon your question, pressing his forehead on your shoulder as he joins in on you staring at, well, his erection.

“Well,” you start, startling him as you push him against the wall, “do you want me to talk dirty or speak Shakespearean?”

“Oh, for the love of- mmnh~”

Now, he’s not… much of a sub, not really. But he compromises so well, so nicely, that even if he is a sly motherfucker, he can also somehow weave his agreement in something through his words. Or actions, like now. You’re in command, you can do as you please, he owes it to you. Either way, he’ll still be able to ask you about choking him.

But your thigh rubbing up and down so teasingly against his crotch? Not what he expected. Since when do you start slow?

But you’re starting with that for now, wanting to milk out what you could of his sounds, his twitches, his reactions. You love it when he shivers.

“Stop teasing.” Kuroiro breathes out, letting go of the hug as his arms fall against the wall, his back and head creating a soft thud as he stares at your head. You haven’t looked up yet, but better for him. He doesn’t… want to look too creepy now, not with how he’s blending so well with the dark..

“I thought I could do what I want?”

“Yes, but- hah~ Stop that!”

“Stop what? This?”

“Interrupting me- ah fuck.”

You keep pressing yourself harder and harder against him, the speed never-changing, but it’s enough for him to already let out such airy moans and small groans. His hips are slowly lowering themselves to keep adding more pressure, moving them subtly to fasten the speed. This doesn’t skip your attention.

“You’re this turned on?”

“Can’t help it.” A soft groan leaves him as he grinds down a certain way, enough to make his knees feel a little weaker. “Needed you, days ago. Couldn’t…”

Oh? He’s embarrassed?

“Couldn’t what?”

“... make myself cum- hnn.”

You giggle again, the sound making him lay his palms flat on the wall in case he’d need to escape something embarrassing. But you know better than to tease him verbally, not wanting to make him become too shy that he’ll ignore you, whether or not you’re his lover now. He’s always been and will be such a shy boy, yet a sneaky bitch. Such duality.

You stop moving your leg and hold him as still as possible, lifting up your head to look him in the eyes. He doesn’t look or shy away.

“You’re cute, you know that? You couldn’t look me in the eyes before we dated, and now you have the audacity to come every night asking for forgiveness, but for what? Truly because you miss me, or just to get your dick wet and satisfied?”

You’re waiting for an answer, your hands diligently moving to pull down his pants slowly.

“I… I missed you, my beloved. I felt incredibly lonely. Even the moonlight that’d enter my room wouldn’t sing me the same song your humming would, or reflect such beauty you seem to radia- holy shit.”

It took what you had of self-control to not laugh: such words being interrupted by such a vulgar phrase. Good thing he’s not heavily religious, or that Ibara was around. She sometimes… worries you, with her affinity with religion.

Your hand is fondling about with his brief-clad dick, making sure the fabric seeps out the precum you could feel, but sadly not see. For some, this could be a turn off, not being able to see a dick; but for you, it just adds to the mystery, adds with how sexy you could even see Kuroiro be.

There’s no more words exchanged, not with how you’re enjoying the feeling of his hips pushing themselves to make him feel more of your hand and thigh, have you do something to add more to his pleasure. His white sweatpants are hanging around his thighs by now, his underwear soon enough being pulled down enough to follow.

A huff of ‘hurry’ leaves his mouth, leaving you confused about what the hurry is about? What happened to being patient? Or is he seriously so hung up with not being able to cum this week that he just needs to? Wait, that's actually hot.

Nodding your head, you smile up at him as one of your hands wraps itself around him and the other pressing its palm to the tip of his dick.

“I’ll be quick, just hold on, yeah?”

Nodding, his eyes immediately close when you squeeze him, your palm slowly figuring out what motion would make him moan faster.

When he moans your name out loud with the circular motion, you press a kiss on his lips before doing it again, and again, and again. Faster every time, spreading his precum around while your other hand tries to pick up into a steady pace without messing up the rhythm.

Kuroiro’s using the back of his hand to keep himself from whimpering out, moaning, huffing and groaning but not wanting to embarrass himself further with such a weak-like noise. But seeing him struggle with that issue is enough to let it go, pressing your knee between his legs and against the wall to keep yourself balanced.

Faster, faster, faster. Your hands seem to keep moving impossibly faster as the room slowly fills with wet sounds, soft thumps of his hips helping place more rhythm.

He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, keeping them shut even if he feels like watching what you’re even doing with him, to him.

But instead, with his eyes closed, his brain decided to bring up what he saw a few days ago:

You didn’t even notice he snuck into your room, or bothered turning off your desk lamp as you lay shamelessly on your bed, pussy out for him to watch as you work a black dildo in you and your other hand placing a small vibrator on your clit.

And you were whining out his name so shamelessly, as if you knew he was watching. (And you did.) Again, you were fucking yourself with a black dildo, just as black as him. And that should’ve been enough for him to maybe relieve himself right then and there, or even beg for forgiveness as you grew closer and closer to your own orgasm. Fuck him, not a dildo! Or let him fuck you while you choke his dirty talk out of his throat!

Instead, Kuroiro quickly left and travelled back to his room, throwing himself on his bed as he almost ripped his pants and underwear off, fucking himself in his hands as he tries to convince himself that he’s fucking you, and even with a precum covered hand, he tried recreating how you usually choke him, claw at him, scratch him.

And he would very much like to fuck you now, but with how you’re touching him, the way your palm is grinding itself incredibly fast around his tip and your other hand furiously jacking him off, he thinks it’s not worth the idea yet. Not when he knows you’re forgiving him, somehow.

He’s about to cum anyways.

He’s trying to grab the wall, as if the darkness would be something he could grab onto like a bedsheet to keep him still, but it does nothing, just make his hands ‘melt’ into it.

His hips are chasing after your hands yet pulling itself away as his knees try not to knock into each other. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, soft sighs leaving with a small moan as an accessory.

And his eyes? He finally opens them, looking from the ceiling to then catch you staring up at him with your own smile, making his reminiscent one fade away as a whole new wave of arousal travels up his body.

Shuddering harshly, he feels his eyes cross a bit as a repeat of his earlier flashback plays, and plays, and plays. The sounds, the scene, the smell of your arousal-

“Y/n- I ahh think- close?”

“Sorry, didn’t understand that. You’re close?”

He just nods rapidly, blinking as he tries to keep his eyes opened to make eye contact, because for him, it’s sexy, it’s intimate, it’s reassuring.

He hears someone letting out weak whimpers, but he thought it was you, until he lets out a louder one and startles himself.

“Again, Shihei, again.” You moan out, feeling your underwear stick itself more to your cunt.

And if your moan of his name wasn’t enough to make him whimper your name back, he’s sure your sweet, sultry encouragement is enough to make his eyes cross once again, forcing him to close his eyes as his hungry hips just downright try fucking your hands without any shame.

He’s grunting how close he is, moans straining in his throat before being caught up in an intake of air, his whole body entering a strong tremor before small yet growing waves of them make him shiver. Without him realizing, his body’s slowly ‘melting’ into the dark, sinking into it as he groans out how he’s cumming.

You watch, taking your hands away from his dick as he spurts thin trails onto the floor, some onto his lowered sweatpants. But even once he’s done, his dick is still hard and twitching.

“What?” He’s confused. He’s not supposed to stay hard. You’ve already made him cum, but why does he feel so unsatisfied?

“M-my beloved?” He whispers, suddenly realizing how he’s more into the walls than pressing against them. Taking himself out of the dark and leaning back against the wall, he brings a hand to your face just as you grin wickedly.

“I think I ruined your orgasm.”

Well shit. Now what, you’re gonna try overstimulating him now? Well, with the way you're going on your knees and bringing him into your mouth, enough to make him wince yet moan, he’s pretty sure tonight he won’t get to fuck you.

[flowercrown-bard]

To give without knowing (19/20)

word count: 16k

AO3

previous /  masterpost

content warning: brief mention of blood

“You don’t have to play,” Geralt said, his brows drawn together in concern, but Jaskier made no move to put his lute back into her case that sat next to their bed. “You already made sure I got the coin for the basilisk. You don’t have to –“

“I know.” Jaskier looked up at Geralt, halting in his movements. “I don’t have to play for the coin, but…I still feel like I should play.” He hesitated. “You haven’t been able to listen to me play these past days and I wanted…that is, I don’t know if you’d even want to listen to me, but I would like it if you did.”

Geralt watched as Jaskier turned the pegs of the lute, despite rarely ever having to tune the elven instrument. Geralt put one of his hands above Jaskier’s, stilling the movement. The silence that came with the sudden absence of nervously plucked strings felt too big for their small room. Jaskier stared at Geralt’s hand, before slowly looking up at him with something soft and vulnerable flickering in his eyes.

“Of course I’d like to listen to you play.” He plucked Jaskier’s hand off the lute and turned it. Gently, he caressed Jaskier’s palm, where the hints of blisters could still be seen. They had healed a little with the ointment he had applied the day before, but Geralt couldn’t get the images of Jaskier’s hands, red and raw, out of his mind. “But I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I’m not,” Jaskier said, his voice strong, though his hand trembled in Geralt’s. The evening light falling in through the small window, made his eyes gleam and his cheeks flush red. “I want to do this. I – I know it’s silly, but when you didn’t return form the basilisk hunt, I thought I’d never get to play for you again. I know it’s selfish of me, and I know I shouldn’t make this about me, but…you never got to hear the finished version of your song.”

Your song. Geralt’s.

There had been so many songs about him, his hunts, his accomplishments, his supposedly valiant character.

But there was only one song that was truly his. Not one of Jaskier’s songs about him, but the one he had written for him.

Geralt’s throat grew tight and he felt himself nodding, before his mind could conjure up any more arguments against Jaskier playing.

“If you are selfish, then so am I,” Geralt said. “I heard you- no, not you. My hallucination. I thought there had been music. I thought that would be the last thing I would hear. But it wasn’t yours, not really.” He pressed his lips together as his fingers slid from Jaskier’s palm to his wrist, right where he could feel his heart, that was beating unusually quickly. “I would love to hear you sing again. And I’m sure your audience would miss you if you didn’t play for them again.”

Jaskier’s pulse spiked beneath Geralt’s fingers. “My audience?”

Geralt rubbed a soothing circle into Jaskier’s skin. He had never seen Jaskier worried about performing for an audience before. His brows rose, as he realised what this meant.

“Am I the only one who ever heard that song?” He asked, his chest clenching when Jaskier nodded slowly. “Don’t worry. I know they’ll love it. I have only heard the unfinished version and it already was – “ so beautiful and meaningful that it did the impossible and made me fall even more in love with you. “-good. It would be wasted if I was the only one to ever hear it.”

A lie. A damned lie. Geralt wanted to be selfish. He wanted to keep the song for himself, but he knew he couldn’t. Jaskier might have shared it with him first and Geralt might have been foolish enough to ascribe more meaning to it than it had, but at his heart, Jaskier was still a performer and Geralt wasn’t a great audience. Not like the people who could watch Jaskier with starry eyes. People, in whose adoration and love Jaskier blossomed, so unlike the unwanted affection Geralt’s chest burst with.

“Come on then,” Geralt said and nudged Jaskier with a grin that felt wrong and stony. “Your audience is probably waiting to get wooed by you.”

“I thought I could – I wanted to…” Jaskier looked down, nervousness and a hint of disappointment, that Geralt didn’t understand, pouring off him. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll sing it downstairs. For an audience.” His voice sounded strangely flat, but when he rose his head again, determination and something unbearably fond shimmered in his eyes.

“You’re right. Let’s go downstairs,” Jaskier said. He slung the lute strap over his head and grabbed Winter from the night stand, holding it close to his chest. “I have a song to sing.” He hesitated, hs eyes flickering to Geralt’s, before darting away again as he echoed Geralt’s words, “And an audience to woo.”

--

It looked wrong, that wolf figure sitting at Jaskier’s feet where normally the wooden songbird would watch over his performance.

For once, Geralt wasn’t sitting in the far end of the taproom, but close enough to Jaskier that he could see all of him while he played. He didn’t know why Jaskier had asked him to come out of the shadows so that Jaskier could see him too, but he had followed the bard’s plea the second it had left his lips. It was uncomfortable, not being surrounded by shadows or sitting in a way that would give Geralt a view on the entire room, but if he was being honest with himself, it had been years since he had watched anything other than Jaskier while he performed anyway.

So now Geralt shifted in his seat, while Jaskier played a quick scale to warm up his fingers, before bending down again and making sure that the wolf figure sat there for all to see, as if it was a grand masterpiece. The care and pride with which Jaskier handled the figure made something warm and fuzzy blossom in Geralt’s chest.

More than one person gave the figure an admiring look and whenever someone commented on how lucky Jaskier was that he had found one of the fae-blessings, Jaskier’s chest swelled a little and his face glowed. Apparently, this was the first time anyone here saw the figure. The last one Jaskier still had, the only one not rotting in the woods somewhere. The one that had always meant more to Jaskier than the others. It was hard to believe that Jaskier hadn’t shown the figure around before. After all, with how proud he was of his carvings, Geralt would have assumed he had presented it before. Unless…Jaskier had traded the supposed fae-protection of him for protection of Geralt. Had the wolf sat next to Geralt’s bed all this time while he had recovered from the toxins?

He tried to catch Jaskier’s eyes to silently ask him that question that he already knew the answer to, but before their eyes could meet, someone interrupted Jaskier’s fidgeting with the wolf and demanded he should start playing already. It seemed Geralt hadn’t guessed incorrectly when he had said Jaskier’s audience would miss him.

Geralt could hear Jaskier’s heartbeat rabbiting, but Jaskier’s smile was even and blinding as ever, as he looked around the taproom until a hushed quiet fell over it. He took a deep breath and began to play.

The first note that left Jaskier’s lips trembled, like the first bird of spring singing while unsure if it really was time yet. Geralt held his breath when he saw Jaskier wince at the imperfection of his own voice, but then their eyes met and something seemed to come lose in Jaskier. He stood up straighter, his smile got warmer and his voice…his voice was no longer like a single songbird. He sounded like the stars shining above the coast. Like the feeling Geralt had gotten when he had shared the story of his first Roach. Like Jaskier standing before Geralt, a shield between him and the cruelty of humans.

Jaskier’s song sounded like trust and something that ran deeper than even that. Something that Geralt’s entire being burned to understand. What felt like a lifetime ago, Jaskier had asked him, if Geralt would be scared of feelings he didn’t understand. Back then, he might have thought that the answer had been yes. Now, he leaned closer to Jaskier, listening to every word, every break in his voice and everything his words didn’t say, desperate to understand what he knew was there, hidden underneath.

The words to the song were barely any different from last time Jaskier had sung it to him. It still spoke of the fae and their gifts. Of the figures bringing luck, but this time Jaskier mentioned how the luck had shown, when the bear he had found had brought him to Geralt.

He sang of how the figures meant that the gifter cared for him and for a moment his eyes flickered downwards to his hand. Jaskier never looked at his hands while he played. He didn’t need to see what they were doing to find the right place on the strings. But when Geralt looked more closely at Jaskier’s face, he found him smiling softly and still he sang of protection and care and healing. That last one had never been part of the stories about the fae that Jaskier had told Geralt. Why was Jaskier looking at his hands while singing about this?

His eyes snapped back up at Geralt and there was something in them, something important. Jaskier was begging Geralt to understand and Geralt was so close to doing so! The pieces were all there, laid out for him. All he had to do was reach out and grasp the truth, but his mind wasn’t working. Not when Jaskier was looking at him like this.

Not when he was singing about the carvings guiding him to the right way, only to describe places that Geralt remembered seeing with him. A lake shining in the colours of the setting sun. A grand market that was bustling with people and pretty things. The path to a small hut in which they had found shelter from a storm and a place for Roach to stay. Places that Geralt and Jaskier had been to together since Jaskier had found the first carving. But…surely Jaskier must know that the fae had nothing to do with any of these places? Geralt had been the one to take him to that market because Jaskier had been excited about it and Jaskier had been the one who had taken Geralt to that lake where they had spent the night. Why was he singing about those things in a song about the fae and their gifts?

All thought left Geralt, when Jaskier reached the last verse. The one he had dreaded and anticipated.

It was the verse in which Jaskier explained that the fae helped their favoured ones find true love within a year. From Jaskier’s lips, these words sounded like the sweetest promise and the cruellest trap.

Many months ago, Geralt had heard Jaskier speak of this part of the legend and since then, he had done his best to banish it from his memory. It hadn’t worked. Not when Jaskier kept singing about the person he loved, the one that Geralt knew would love him back and make him happy, once Jaskier confessed to them.

Geralt’s chest clenched, as he prepared himself for this song to mention blonde hair and a valiant character as well, but no such descriptions came. Jaskier just kept looking at Geralt, the determination from earlier having softened into something fond and vulnerably open.

Geralt wanted to stand up, to go over to Jaskier and cradle his head in his hands. He wanted to kiss these words off Jaskier’s lips and keep them in his chest where they burned like a wildfire.

He was not prepared for Jaskier begging the fae to let his love be returned. He was not prepared for the vulnerability in Jaskier’s eyes, the way his voice trembled and his fingers missed a note, making the lute give a dissonant twang.

Geralt felt like he was underwater. The world slowed around him and all sounds except for Jaskier’s song got muffled. He couldn’t breathe, could do nothing but watch hope and hurt chase each other in a complicated dance across Jaskier’s face.

This had gone on for too long. Geralt had taken it too far. His lies, his secrets, all of it. They hurt Jaskier too much. If Geralt truly loved him, then he couldn’t lie to him any longer.

And by the gods, he loved him. So much so, that this simple word that poets liked so much to use didn’t feel like enough. What Geralt felt was more than just this one word. It was sitting around campfires, it was singing and laughing. It was Jaskier seeking refuge in his arms during a storm and offering comfort after Geralt let go of Roach. It was carving animals just to see Jaskier smile. It was eyes crinkling at the sides and hands brushing and breath being taken away. It was…it was Jaskier.

Knowing him meant knowing this feeling. It meant loving him. In this moment, Geralt thought he knew Jaskier better than anyone else.

Knowing Jaskier meant loving him. And that meant, not being able to bear seeing him like this; so torn up about being unloved, about not being trusted with the truth.

The last note rang through the room and for a moment it was completely silent. Never before had Geralt seen a tavern go so quiet. The smell of salt filled the air and no one dared move in fear of breaking whatever spell had befallen them when Jaskier had sang his song.

Geralt barely paid any attention to them. He only had eyes for Jaskier who didn’t break eye contact. There was something between them, something that was either fragile enough to break with one wrong word, or strong enough to hold fast no matter what.

“Another song!”

The sudden shout made Geralt flinch. It was only when he threw a glare over his shoulder at the man who had demanded an encore, that he realised that he had looked away from Jaskier and broken whatever had been between them.

When he turned back, it was to Jaskier fiddling with his lute again. None of the patrons seemed to notice or care about his nervousness. More voices chimed in, demanding another song.

“Ah, my dear audience,” Jaskier began, his performer’s smile wavering and allowing a brief glimpse at the uncertainty behind the mask. “I’m afraid I don’t have any other polished songs that fit my mood for tonight.”

A noise of disappointment rumbled through the audience and Geralt could see the moment Jaskier’s resolve broke.

“I have one song,” he said, his eyes darting from Geralt to the wolf at his own feet. “I wrote it these past two days and it’s not finished yet. But I hope it doesn’t offend.”

He glanced at Geralt again, just long enough that Geralt got the feeling that Jaskier addressed him specifically, as if his opinion meant more to him than that of the audience he actually was performing for. Jaskier knew Geralt didn’t mind half-finished songs. Or he had never shown that he cared if Geralt was bothered or not, whenever Jaskier composed while walking next to him or repeating a line over and over until it felt right to him while Geralt sharpened his swords. Really, Jaskier should have no reason to worry about Geralt’s opinion.

Geralt tried to give him an encouraging nod, but he wasn’t sure if Jaskier registered it. He expected Jaskier to strum his lute again or pluck at the strings with nimble fingers, but instead Jaskier started hitting the body of his lute gently but firmly enough to create drumming.

When Jaskier started singing again, it didn’t sound like any of his usual songs. It wasn’t a sweet ballade, nor was it a roaring epic or cheeky ditty.

It was something else entirely. An easy and repetitive melody set to a steady and uncomplicated rhythm, not unlike the sea shanties Jaskier had learned from those seafarers at the coast. It was one of those songs meant to make work easier and entertain during a longwinded task.

Geralt’s brows drew together. What task did Jaskier have, to come up with such a song? He had assumed that Jaskier had spent all his time here performing or taking care of Geralt. With most of their supplies, including Jaskier’s books and notebooks, gone, there wasn’t much for Jaskier to entertain himself with. They had nothing but Jaskier’s lute, the medical supplies and Geralt’s weapons and Geralt seriously doubted Jaskier had chosen this time to steal Geralt’s knives and learn how to wield them for anything other than preparing a meal.

He shook his head to rid himself of his wandering thoughts and listened to Jaskier instead. It didn’t take him more than half a verse to realise what Jaskier was singing about. The rhythm might have made the song sound like a shanty, but the lyrics, so full of longing and deep-rooted feelings, left no doubt to what it truly was: a dirge.

He was remembering and mourning all the carvings he had lost. A bear broken. A friend staying with someone else. The others lost and gone, never to come back to him again.

Listening to this was like a punch in the gut, leaving Geralt breathless and with a throbbing pain inside of him. Having just heard about the joy the carvings used to bring Jaskier only made this worse.

Now, it made sense that Jaskier had been worried about Geralt being offended. Geralt was the reason why the figures were gone. If he hadn’t been so stupid to let himself get hurt during the hunt, if he had just kept his promise and made it back to Jaskier, this wouldn’t have happened. Jaskier wouldn’t have lost the one thing that had brought him so much joy over the past months. He had been able to find comfort in the carvings. He had held them close while sleeping, had stroked over the sanded down wood when he had needed to keep his hands occupied. He had loved those carvings. And Geralt, who had never meant for Jaskier to find any of them at first, was the one who had unwittingly taken them from him again.

His throat got dry and he gripped the edge of the table as tightly as he could. Jaskier hadn’t mentioned before how hard he took the loss of the figures, but it had hurt him so much that he had put it into song, even without his notebook to write down the words. Why hadn’t he been able to talk to Geralt about it? He couldn’t possibly think that Geralt would turn away from him because Jaskier blamed him for something he had done.

It felt like an iron chain was winding around Geralt’s chest and tightening until he couldn’t breathe anymore, when Jaskier’s voice softened.

“-but the wolf will still be mine.

Silently, afraid to splinter.

Mine to love and mine to hold.

Secretly, wood-heart of pine.

Not mine in winter

When it’s cold.”

The wolf, sat so innocently at Jaskier’s feet where the songbird should sit instead. It was wrong. It shouldn’t be the only carving Jaskier had left. Even Jaskier, who said he loved the wolf, sounded strained and afraid as he sang. He had trusted Geralt with the wolf once, but clearly not anymore. If the lyrics were any indication, he didn’t even expect to be able to keep the figure once winter arrived. Was he already imagining all the different ways in which Geralt could let him down and make him lose this last figure, this most precious one, too?

And why wouldn’t he imagine such things? Geralt had already betrayed his trust, had taken from Jaskier again and again. He had taken his touch, his smiles. And Geralt had so greedily taken the love Jaskier had for the gifts, though Jaskier had never known whom he was giving this love to. Now Jaskier’s touch must hurt Jaskier himself, with the blisters on his palms. His smiles must strain, now that the thing that had made him smile most often these past months was gone. And Jaskier’s love – well. Geralt had never truly had it in the first place, had he?

“Though I will still be his.

Not his to love, to long for, no.

But perhaps I’m his to miss,

As I will him, when I watch him go.”

Jaskier’s eyes bore into Geralt’s soul. Was this…this meant something. Jaskier’s songs always meant something and Geralt never understood. He knew he didn’t, but he needed to!

When I watch him go.

Was this Jaskier’s way of saying their time together was over? That he had finally realised that Geralt had taken more than Jaskier was willing to give? Just hours ago, Jaskier had allowed Geralt to dream about a future in which Geralt was allowed to visit him at Oxenfurt. Perhaps Essi had been wrong after all when she had said Jaskier wanted to stay with Geralt. But she had been so sure of herself and when Geralt had spoken about Oxenfurt, Jaskier had appeared to be excited. Geralt couldn’t have misread that…could he?

Maybe Geralt had gotten it all wrong and Jaskier was still talking about the wolf figure, still mourning a loss he hadn’t endured yet?

Geralt didn’t register the applause, didn’t hear the clatter of coins being tossed at Jaskier’s feet. To him, there was nothing but the burning gaze of the bard who might have already lost all faith in him.

He watched as though through a fog, how Jaskier collected the coin and strode over to him. Jaskier was clutching the strap of his lute as if it was protecting him, as if it was a barrier between him and Geralt.

“We should rent another room,” Geralt said, before Jaskier had the chance to open his mouth. “You don’t have to –“ he broke off, unable to say out loud how Jaskier wouldn’t be forced to spend another night with Geralt, if he didn’t want to. “With the coin from the contract I can afford to pay for a better room for you.”

The words tasted bitter in Geralt’s mouth. He didn’t look forward to staying in the small room by himself, but Jaskier shouldn’t have to stay in a place where it was impossible for him to put distance between them. As much as Geralt’s body ached to take Jaskier into his arms again and hold him as he had last night, there was no way Jaskier would want the same thing. Not now, that he had shown Geralt how disappointed and betrayed he felt by him. No, getting two rooms was for the best.

Jaskier blinked at him. “Oh…uh. I guess you’re right. The small room was a bit…cosy.” He shifted his weight and fiddled with a loose thread of his doublet. “I guess I’ll go ask the innkeeper for a new room then.”

Geralt watched Jaskier go, his heart sinking. He had known Jaskier would agree to his suggestion, of course, but a small part of him had hoped that Jaskier would at least put up a little resistance and say that he didn’t mind staying with Geralt.

When Jaskier came back, he waved a key at Geralt’s face, before pocketing it and gesturing to the stairs. “We better get our things.” His smile became a bit strained. “I wouldn’t want to lose any more of our stuff because we forgot to bring them to our new room.”

The guilt crashing into Geralt was too bitter for him to realise what exactly Jaskier had said. The words only caught up with him, when Jaskier pressed Geralt’s belongings into his hands, once they were in their small room and motioned for him to follow him again. Geralt did, though his brows were furrowed and his tongue burned with the question why Jaskier wanted Geralt’s stuff in his room as well.

It was only when Jaskier unlocked the door to his new room and ushered Geralt inside that he understood.

The room had two beds.

“Jaskier.” He turned to see Jaskier putting his lute gently on the table standing against one of the walls. “There are two beds.”

Jaskier winced a little and his hands nearly faltered on the lute. “Ah. Yes. There are,” he said, as if that explained anything.

Geralt’s heartbeat quickened and some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. This was Jaskier meeting him half-way. He might have agreed quickly to not sharing a small room with Geralt anymore, but he was still fine with sharing a sleeping space with him. Not all was lost. Now Geralt had to take the next step somehow.

When Geralt didn’t reply, Jaskier’s brows furrowed. “Is that…alright?”

It was more than Geralt had dared hope for.

“It’s alright,” he said softly. More than alright. Jaskier was giving him another chance and Geralt would do everything he could to not disappoint him again. He could still have that future visiting Jaskier and taking him with him again. He could still keep Jaskier close.

“So…” Jaskier began again with a smile that didn’t distract from the tension in his body. “What do you think about my songs?”

His voice held none of that cockiness or self-assuredness Jaskier usually had when talking about his performances.

Geralt’s jaw clenched as he tried to keep the guilt sweeping over him once more, at bay. “I think I understand them.”

“Oh?”

Geralt didn’t need to hear the skip in Jaskier’s heart or see the way he tensed up even more at his words. He had known as soon as Jaskier had started to sing about Geralt’s failures that he had nothing left to win. A small smile that must be an attempt at pacifying Geralt, lit up Jaskier’s face.

“I understand,” Geralt repeated. He swallowed and put as much sincerity in his expression as he could. “And I’m sorry.”

Something in Jaskier’s expression crumbled, the shards left by his smile as if fell, cutting deep into Geralt’s chest.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jaskier said, the tremor in his voice betraying his lie. “I just… after finding you in the woods, I didn’t want to just keep going without having told you. We never have to talk about this again. It’s – it was a mistake.”

A mistake. Only one of many mistakes Geralt had made. How many more before Jaskier would have enough?

“I’ll fix this, I promise.” Geralt said firmly. He knew what he had to do. He would find the figures and bring them back to Jaskier, mend the heartbreak in Jaskier and hopefully fix what Geralt had broken between them with his lies and his carelessness that had taken too much from Jaskier. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Jaskier’s eyes went wide. “But… I thought…”

“I can’t wait until it gets colder,” Geralt said. He had never cared much for the carvings he left in the woods, but now he couldn’t help but wonder how long the wood would be able to withstand wind and weather before it started to rot.

“No, Geralt, you don’t have to go. Not so soon.” Jaskier’s voice was urgent and he spoke so fast that his words nearly slurred together. “I promise I won’t bring it up again. It’ll be just like before. We’re still friends, right?” His throat bobbed nervously. Quieter, he repeated, “Right?”

“Of course we are still friends.” Geralt looked away. There was too much hope in Jaskier’s eyes, too much trust. He didn’t deserve that trust. Not yet. Not until he had brought the carvings back. “But I don’t want things to go back to the way they have been.”

For too long, Jaskier had been hurting. He couldn’t go back to that. He couldn’t let this new loss fester in Jaskier’s heart and add to his doubts and pain. Geralt had to fix it and make sure Jaskier would be better than he had been before. He owed him this much.

“So you’re leaving.” Jaskier’s face was strangely devoid of emotion. “Without me.”

Geralt’s chest clenched painfully. With two long strides, he was by Jaskier’s side, tentatively reaching for his hand.

“I have to go alone,” he said apologetically. He couldn’t risk getting Jaskier’s hopes up only to shatter, in case Geralt failed. He would do what it took to get the figures back to Jaskier, but there was no telling how long it would take him. Three days had passed since Jaskier had brought him to this town. The trail they had left must have gone cold by now and Geralt had no way of knowing how exactly to get back to the abandoned camp. Knowing Jaskier, he wouldn’t know how to find his way back there either. No, Jaskier deserved to sleep in a warm bed and eat well-cooked meals until Geralt came back. He shouldn’t have to track through the forest in which bad memories waited for Jaskier, for who knew how long. Here, he would be able to live in comfort until Geralt returned and brought back Jaskier’s smile.

“The coin from the contract will pay for this room for at least a week,” Geralt said, placing the newly-filled coin pouch on the table next to the lute. “You’ll be safe and comfortable.”

“I’ll be alone.” The words were spoken so softly that even Geralt had trouble hearing them. There was no doubt they hadn’t been meant for his ears, and yet, Geralt’s stomach tightened when he heard them as if Jaskier had screamed them at him.

“I’ll fix this,” Geralt said again. “It might take me a while, so I can’t tell when I’ll be back. But I won’t let things continue as they are.”

Jaskier nodded dejectedly, his eyes wandering to the two beds. His lips pressed into a thin line and he looked like he struggled to decide whether or not to speak up again.

“Jaskier?” Geralt prodded gently, letting his thumb rub small circles into Jaskier’s hands.

“You should go to bed.” Jaskier pulled away from Geralt and turned his back to him, fiddling with the few belongings he had. “You shouldn’t be tired when you leave. I don’t want you to get hurt again. Not when I’m not there to take care of you.”

The nervous fluttering in Geralt’s heart softened. Jaskier was still looking out for him, even after he had messed up.

Geralt obliged him and got ready to go to bed. It should have been a luxury to have a bed all for himself, but it felt strangely cold and empty. He would have gladly exchanged his blanket for Jaskier’s weight as he lay on him.

He nearly asked. With his mind so focussed on how to make Jaskier feel better, he nearly crossed that line and asked Jaskier to join him in bed again, but when he rolled onto his side to face Jaskier, he found him still standing over his belongings, clothed and making no move to get to bed, though he rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands, clearly trying to keep the sleepiness at bay.

“Jaskier?” he asked into the darkness of the room.

“Sleep,” Jaskier replied quietly and his hands grabbed something out of his lute case and put it behind his back where Geralt couldn’t see. “I’ll just…I need to do something. I’ll be back. Goodnight.”

Without waiting for a reply, Jaskier hastened out of the room, leaving Geralt and the little bit of comfort and luxury he had wanted to provide Jaskier with.

He closed the door quietly behind him and yet the click of it rang in Geralt’s ear like a death sentence.

Geralt rolled back onto his other side, so he didn’t have to face the empty bed. He squeezed his eyes shut and did his best to calm his breathing and fall asleep as Jaskier had told him to. But the silence was too loud. Without Jaskier’s familiar tossing and turning, without his quiet breathing and heartbeat, his sleepy mumbles, the silence that remained was deafening.

He didn’t know how long he waited with bated breath and his hopeful heart beating too quickly, until finally the door creaked open again.

He could feel Jaskier’s eyes on the back of his head as he slipped back into the room and put the thing he had taken with him before back into his lute case.

He smelled like frustration and something else that Geralt knew he should recognise, but couldn’t discern under the heavy stench of Jaskier’s emotions.

“Jaskier?” Geralt turned his head just in time to see Jaskier flinch. “Are you alright?”

“I didn’t think you’d still be awake,” Jaskier said instead of answering. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Geralt shook his head, a movement Jaskier should be able to see even in the dark.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again. “Is there something I can do?”

He was trying. Already, Geralt was trying as hard as he could. Tomorrow, he would go out to search for Jaskier’s happiness and bring it back to him, but for now, he was helpless, relying on Jaskier’s guidance on how to best help and comfort him. How to be a good friend to him.

Jaskier remained quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke again, it was too quickly and too loudly for it to have been anything other than a spontaneous loss of control.

“Can I still sleep in your bed? Just for tonight?” Jaskier swallowed audibly. “I mean, I understand if you don’t… but we’re still friends.”

Silently, Geralt lifted his blanket in invitation. Jaskier waited only for another heartbeat, before flinging himself into bed with Geralt, as if Geralt would take his invitation back if he wasn’t fast enough. Jaskier was still wearing his chemise and trousers. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but Jaskier sighed as if he didn’t even notice.

“Thank you,” Jaskier whispered. “For…for still wanting to be my friend.”

Geralt had no reply, no words to express how much it meant to him that Jaskier still considered him his friend after Geralt had disappointed him like that. Tentatively, he gathered Jaskier into his arms and pulled him closer, until Jaskier’s head came to rest on his chest. Immediately, Jaskier pressed closer against him. He tucked his head beneath Geralt’s chin and let out a small noise when Geralt started caressing his back and running his fingers through his hair.

Slowly, Jaskier relaxed and yet, Geralt’s heart felt heavy. He wished –

They never did this without reason. Every time Geralt had gotten to hold Jaskier in the night, it had been to offer or receive comfort or out of necessity. During the storm, when they had said goodbye to Roach, they had comforted each other. When Jaskier had almost drowned, they had clung to one another as a reminder that Jaskier was safe. The night before, they hadn’t had much of a choice when it came to sharing the bed and Jaskier had still been worried about Geralt. Now, it was once again Jaskier seeking comfort that Geralt was happy to offer in any way that he could.

Yet, his chest ached. He wanted to have this in a different way. Just once, he wanted to wake up entangled with Jaskier knowing that they had spent the night together simply because they wanted to. Because they were happy with each other and couldn’t imagine a better place than the other’s arms. No pain, no danger, no too small bed to push them together like this. Simply the fact that they were important to the other.

Maybe, once Geralt got the carvings back and Jaskier wasn’t hurt and frustrated with him anymore, he could ask him for that.

Tomorrow.

Geralt closed his eyes, as he listened to the soft noises Jaskier made as he drifted in his sleep.

Tomorrow, Geralt would end Jaskier’s doubts and bring back what he had lost. They were still friends now. If Jaskier still sought comfort in Geralt’s arms after how Geralt had let him down, then there was still a chance that he wouldn’t tell him to leave once Geralt confessed to all his lies and secrets.

He inhaled a deep breath and surrounded by the scent of Jaskier and wood, Geralt fell asleep.

--

The next morning brought no more lazy hours to waste in bed with Jaskier. As soon as the first rays of the sun climbed over the horizon and fell through the window into their room, Geralt steeled himself for the task ahead of him.

Carefully, so as not to wake Jaskier, he lifted Jaskier’s arm that was wrapped around Geralt’s waist in his sleep. Jaskier made a disgruntled noise when the bed dipped as Geralt shifted his weight and got up.

As silently as he could, Geralt put on his armour, yet the snapping of the clasps as he tightened them, was still loud enough to rouse Jaskier.

“Geralt?” he mumbled, still half-dazed from sleep. He blinked blearily, before suddenly his eyes opened wide and he sat up in a flash. “You’re leaving.”

Geralt nodded and tightened the straps of his armour. He hoped he wouldn’t need it, but he couldn’t risk not coming back to Jaskier a second time.

“Don’t tell me you were going to leave without saying goodbye.”

Geralt gave him a soft smile. “I wanted to let you sleep in. You went to bed so late last night.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Jaskier said, as he swung his legs out of the bed and ran his hands through his hair and down his chemise to straighten it. “I’ll go downstairs with you. If nothing else, you at least have to let me say goodbye to Roach.”

Geralt’s lips quirked up in amusement. Despite how cold the late-autumn air might be, Geralt’s chest was warmed from the care and easy affection Jaskier had for Geralt’s mare, going so far as to bid her farewell, even though they would only be gone for a couple of days, if everything went well.

Jaskier followed him to the stables, where he hugged Roach around the neck and didn’t complain even once when she started nibbling at his chemise.

Geralt pretended to be busy fastening Roach’s saddle and let Jaskier have his moment, but he couldn’t help but listen in, when Jaskier leaned closer to Roach’s ear and whispered, “Take care of him for me, will you? Don’t let him be lonely. And…bring him back to me. He promised to visit me in Oxenfurt. Make him keep that promise. Please.”

The warmth in Geralt’s chest spread into his fingertips and his expression was soft, when he turned to Jaskier again.

“Take care, Jaskier,” he said.

“You too.” Jaskier hesitated, before opening his arms a little. “Can I…?”

It took Geralt a moment to understand, but when he did, his heart skipped a beat and he opened his arms, mirroring Jaskier. A tentative smile appeared on Jaskier’s face, before he stepped closer and buried his face in Geralt’s chest, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

Geralt’s throat grew tight and he could do nothing but hold Jaskier close and make himself remember why he needed to leave or else he would never let go. Jaskier needed him to do this. He would be happier once he had his carvings back. Their friendship would be stronger for it.

Yet, standing here in the stable with Roach happily nudging Jaskier’s back as he clung to Geralt, it was hard to gather the strength to let go again and leave. Geralt wanted just a few more moments to savour this. He could allow himself that much.

Jaskier had never hugged Geralt goodbye before. He had been ready to give Eskel a hug after having known him for no more than a couple of hours, but he had never parted from Geralt by leaving him with the memory of how his arms felt around him. Safe. Warm. Like home.

Geralt hadn’t known he had longed to be send off like this. Before, whenever they had separated for a longer time, Geralt hadn’t been sure if he was allowed to hold Jaskier like this and all the short separations didn’t warrant a big farewell. And then, ever since the first time Jaskier had wrapped his arms around Geralt, they had been together. For nearly a year, they had spent every day together. It felt strange knowing that he wasn’t going to see Jaskier for the next couple of days. Jaskier must feel the unpleasant tug in his chest too, that came from the sudden split, however brief it may be, for he tightened his hold on Geralt.

It felt wrong, to have the ache of saying goodbye taint a hug like this. The few hugs and half-embraces they had shared before in broad daylight had been meant to say I’m here. For you. With you.

Geralt didn’t want Jaskier’s embrace to mean that he let him go. So he tried to pour everything he felt into the hug. A promise to come back, to not disappoint Jaskier again.

Jaskier let out a shaky laugh.

“I guess I was right all these months ago,” he said, voice muffled against Geralt’s neck. “You do give the best hugs. Bear hugs.”

Geralt’s hands wandered up to the back of Jaskier’s head, cradling it gently, as he was unable to pull him even closer.

“That was so long ago,” Geralt replied.

It had been back when Jaskier had still had Bumblebee. The first of Geralt’s carvings that had been lost to him. Even back then, it had been for the same reason as it was now: Jaskier’s carvings were sacrificed for Geralt.

He took a deep breath and pulled away.

“Goodbye, Jaskier,” Geralt said his voice thick with the overwhelming urge to right his wrongs.

He knew he couldn’t linger as he wanted to, or he would never leave and do what he needed to do.

Without so much as looking back at Jaskier, he swung himself onto Roach’s back.

The last thing he heard, nearly inaudible compared to the click-clack of Roach’s hooves was Jaskier’s whispered “Goodbye, Geralt.”

--

He missed Jaskier already. It had been no more than hours since Geralt had left him at the inn and yet, he found that there wasn’t a single moment that he didn’t spend thinking about Jaskier, about what he would say if he were here with him now.

As Geralt gathered sticks for a small campfire, he imagined Jaskier composing a little ditty to sing while he worked and as he lit it with Igni, he could practically hear Jaskier sigh contently and cheerfully announce how good it was to have a travel companion who could create fire just like that.

Geralt’s heart ached to hear his voice again, his footsteps behind him, his heartbeat. Anything.

And yet, as night fell and Geralt curled in on himself on the cold, hard ground with neither bedroll nor tent to shield him from the cold seeping into his bones, he was glad that he hadn’t surrendered to the begging of his heart and asked Jaskier to come with him. Though Geralt shivered from the cold and wished for nothing more than to have Jaskier’s warm body to hold, he knew that Jaskier deserved better than to be in these conditions. At best, he would have been uncomfortable, at the worst, he would have fallen ill in the middle of the woods from which it was a day’s ride to reach the town and a healer again.

No, it was good that Jaskier wasn’t with him, that he was comfortable at the inn. Perhaps he was performing right now, spending his hard earned coin on ale and a hearty meal, now that he didn’t need to pay for Geralt’s health as well. Maybe, while Geralt had trudged through the forest, keeping his eyes out for any sign of a trail he and Jaskier could have left when they had been here, Jaskier had strolled around town or talked to people who laughed at his jokes and admired his eloquence.

Whatever Jaskier was doing, it was better for him than being in the cold with Geralt.

And yet, selfishly, Geralt wondered if maybe Jaskier was looking at his wooden wolf and missing Geralt in the same way that Geralt was already missing Jaskier.

Geralt feel asleep alone and cold and begging for the next day to bring him to the abandoned camp so he could get back to Jaskier quickly.

--

A light drizzle turned into a downpour. With no cloak to keep him covered, Geralt was quickly drenched to the bones, but that wasn’t the worst part.

The trail had been near impossible to track before, but now with the water washing it away, there was no hope that there was any of it left still. Now, Geralt could only rely on guessing and luck to guide him to where he needed to be.

A sour taste filled Geralt’s mouth as he realised that the naïve estimation that he would be back with Jaskier in a couple of days wouldn’t be possible to achieve anymore. At the least, it would take him a week to find their belongings.

Still he trudged on.

Behind him, Roach snorted in protest when he pushed too hard and walked for too long.

“I know,” Geralt muttered as he eventually came to a halt and stroked down Roach’s neck. “We’ll get back to him soon. And then I’ll let him spoil you with as many treats as you like.”

--

He wanted to be back with Jaskier, wanted to pillow his head on Jaskier’s legs while Jaskier ran his fingers through Geralt’s hair and talked about everything and nothing, or maybe quietly read a book.

This unlikely fantasy was the only thing keeping him warm, as hours bled together and the fourth day away from Jaskier turned into the fifth.

--

Had this forest always been that huge? It had felt smaller with Jaskier there to tell him stories and softly sing to him. More than once was Geralt tempted to give up on his fruitless search and go back to Jaskier, his warm arms and warmer smiles.

Perhaps Jaskier would make a song out of Geralt’s search for the wooden animals he had never before cared so much about. But first, Geralt had to find them. For Jaskier.

--

A little more than a week without Jaskier was enough to make Geralt feel utterly miserable. He had no idea how he was going to make it through winter without Jaskier by his side.

--

Geralt brushed a low hanging branch to the side – and stopped dead in his tracks. His heartbeat spiked up and for a moment he was frozen where he stood, unable to believe his eyes.

But there is was: The camp he had been looking for. The bags with their supplies, Jaskier’s bedroll that he had clearly abandoned in a hurry.

Roach’s neighing behind him shook him out of his stupor and with hasty strides, he rushed over to the bags, rummaging through them until he found what he had come here for.

A crushing weight was lifted off his chest, when he finally held the figures in hand again. They were all there. In worse condition than when Geralt had last seen them and covered in mud and with dark spots, but they were there nonetheless.

A relieved breath escaped Geralt as he gathered them close and wiped off the traces of mud as best he could with one of his undershirts that he carelessly pulled from his newfound bag. Then he took out his hunting knife – the smaller knife had somehow disappeared, he must have lost it on the way here somehow – and started carving away the blemishes of the wood, until the figures looked less miserable. Jaskier would be able to see that they had been tempered with, but in this moment, it was more important that Geralt made sure that they didn’t look as if they had been abandoned.

Geralt had never cared much about that before. Countless other carvings were probably still rotting somewhere, unfound and uncared for. But these ones were Jaskier’s. They were important.

And when Geralt got them back to Jaskier, it wouldn’t make a difference if he could tell that Geralt had polished them up or not. Because Geralt would finally tell him.

His chest tightened at the thought, but with every second he spent fixing up the carvings, his resolve hardened. It was time.

Quickly, he gathered up anything salvageable – some of their clothes, the coin pouch, the pots and pans, the tent and thankfully Jaskier’s notebook – and fastened them onto Roach, who was already prancing nervously.

“Let’s go, Roach.” For the first time in a week, Geralt smiled again. “We’re going back to Jaskier.”

--

Geralt was spurning on Roach to gallop faster than she had in a long time. In the hand that didn’t hold the reins, he held the bag with the carvings, not willing to let them out of sight and risk even the chance of losing them again.

He barely paid attention to the way, trusting Roach to bring him back to Jaskier on the fastest route. His mind was too preoccupied with figuring out what he was going to tell Jaskier. For weeks, he had told himself to confess that he had been the one who had carved the animals, always waiting for the perfect moment, but not once had he actually tried to prepare the words he was going to say. And Jaskier would need words. Any other time, actions might have sufficed, but with something this important to Jaskier, Geralt could leave no doubt in Jaskier’s mind that Geralt hadn’t meant to deceive him out of malice or lack of care for him.

Yet as the town came into view on the horizon, Geralt was still no closer to having found the words and now that he was so close to Jaskier again, his mind wouldn’t stay focussed for long enough to come up with words to explain himself.

He was going to see Jaskier again and he was going to make him happy. For once, Geralt would be allowed to give him the gifts, he had made for him all along, openly. A twinge of dread stung in his stomach. The well-known fear of the rejection he had spent so much time anticipating.

There was still the possibility that Jaskier’s face would twist in disappointment and anger at his betrayal, but when Geralt had told him that he was going to do his best to fix what he had inadvertently broken, Jaskier had still considered him his friend and had said it with so much feeling, that it had ignited a hope stronger than his doubt in Geralt’s chest.

Jaskier might get angry at him, and rightfully so, but there was still hope that they would get past this.

For now, all that was important, was that Jaskier got his figures back and that Geralt could see him smile again as on the days he had found each of them.

When he reached the town, Geralt didn’t bother dismounting Roach, though he slowed her down as he rode through the streets. In front of the inn, Geralt jumped off, not bothering to bring her to the stables first. She knew better than to walk away and get lost in the town or let anyone steal her.

And Geralt had no time to waste. He threw open the doors to the inn, rushing through the pub room, ignoring the strange looks he received and sprinted up the stairs to their room.

He pushed against it – and found it locked.

Geralt’s brows drew together. It wasn’t unusual for Jaskier to lock the doors when he slept or had company – a habit he had developed while travelling with Geralt to either avoid danger or Geralt walking in on compromising situations – and it wasn’t unlikely that Jaskier was out and about in town at the moment. Yet, something prickled at the back of Geralt’s neck. A foreboding feeling, he couldn’t shake.  

“Jaskier?” he called, knocking against the door, while his other hand tightened around the bag with the carvings. “It’s me. I’m back.”

No reply.

Geralt’s frown deepened. Even pressing his ear against the wooden door, Geralt couldn’t hear a single sound coming from within the room. Not as much as a heartbeat. And something else was off. The usually inescapable scent of Jaskier wasn’t there. Not so much as a trace of it.

“Jaskier!” He called again, louder this time, though he already knew that he would get no reply.

Huffing and the creaking of floorboards made Geralt whirl around, half-expecting Jaskier to come running towards him. The hope that flared up in him disappeared just as quickly as it had come, when Geralt’s eyes fell on the maid who hastened towards him.

“Sir Witcher, I need to ask you to quiet down,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “The other guests are complaining already and-“

“Where’s Jaskier?” Geralt interrupted her, not wasting a single thought to how rude he might sound.

The girl’s eyes snapped up to him. Her brows knitted together for a second, before recognition flooded her face.

“Master Jaskier? The bard?”

Geralt nodded, his fingers twitching impatiently around the bag. “This is his room.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” the maid said, a blush colouring her round cheeks. “But it’s not. Hasn’t been for about a week.”

Geralt’s blood turned to ice.

“What?” His voice was toneless and he knew his expression must be as hard as stone.

“He left. Not long after you did. I thought he had gone after you.”

“He didn’t.” Geralt hands clenched to fists helplessly. “I know when I’m being followed and I wasn’t.”

“Oh.” The maid’s blush deepened in embarrassment. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What do you mean?” Geralt didn’t intend for his voice to come out as a growl, but Jaskier was gone and he didn’t understand why. He had known Geralt would come back for him. So then why hadn’t he waited?

“He…I probably shouldn’t tell you this.” The maid fisted her hands into her skirts and played with the fabric nervously, not unlike how Jaskier sometimes played with the hem of his doublets. “But after you left, he stormed back to his room,” she nodded towards the door, “and got his lute. I thought he was going to perform again, which I thought was strange because it was so early still, but when I asked him about it, he said that he couldn’t stay here a moment longer. He…” she lowered her voice. “He didn’t look very happy.”

“What do you mean?” An abyss opened up in Geralt’s stomach, swallowing all the excitement he had built up when thinking about seeing Jaskier again.

“Well, his eyes were red and his voice was all,” she gestured vaguely, “as if he had been crying.”

Geralt’s heart sunk. He had known that Jaskier hadn’t been feeling well, that he was mourning the figures he had lost, but that had been why he had gone out there. So that Jaskier wouldn’t have to feel like that any longer. So that he would know that Geralt wouldn’t let him be miserable if there was anything he could do to help him. Jaskier had known that…hadn’t he?

He wouldn’t have just left without at least leaving a note, not after being so adamant about them being friends that he would even tell Roach to make sure Geralt kept his promise to visit him in Oxenfurt.

Oh.

Oh no. That was where he was going. But it wasn’t time yet. No merchant caravans that Jaskier could join for safety would head there for at least another month. What could have possibly driven Jaskier to head out on his own?

What, if not Geralt himself?

Geralt’s face must have shown the cracks in his heart, for the maid’s face scrunched up in concern.

“Sir Witcher?” she asked tentatively, but Geralt didn’t listen to her anymore. He stormed past her and down the stairs.

Jaskier was out there somewhere, had been for days. With no horse, no protection and no possessions but his lute and possibly some coin. It wasn’t safe for him. Even if monsters or bandits didn’t see him as easy prey, he would still have nothing to fight off the cold with.

Geralt needed to find him. Right now.

--

The urgency with which Geralt had ridden Roach before was nothing compared to now. He knew he was pushing her too hard, but he couldn’t slow down. The roads were too unsafe for a bard travelling on his own and a week was more than enough time for Jaskier to get hurt or lost.

Just as it had in the woods, the rain had washed away all tracks Jaskier had left, but at least Geralt had a direction to follow and a road that Jaskier must have taken.

At least until two days later he came to a crossroad and the road split into two smaller paths, one of which led in the direction of a forest.

Dread pooled in Geralt’s stomach. Silently, he begged with whoever was listening, that Jaskier hadn’t taken this path, but he already knew that his plea was useless. It was the path leading vaguely in the direction of Oxenfurt and Jaskier had never been good at calculating risks.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Geralt nudged Roach to follow the path. If he was lucky, he would get to Jaskier soon. Two days on horseback should be enough to catch up with a man, even if he had great endurance from being used to walking a lot.

It didn’t take long for the path to veer directly into the woods stretching out before Geralt. He gritted his teeth but pushed on. With every step Roach took, he was praying that Jaskier hadn’t been stupid enough to take this path, though he knew it was useless.

Jaskier’s scent hung in the air, faintly, but leaving no doubt that he had passed this place not long ago. A day ago at most, if Geralt had to guess.

Geralt’s only hope was that Jaskier had listened to him when he had tried to teach him basic survival skills. Jaskier had struggled with putting up the tent, but he knew which sticks to gather for a fire – except Jaskier had never had to light a fire himself. He had watched more than enough times how Geralt gutted a rabbit or other animal he had caught to make it edible – but Jaskier had neither a knife with him nor did he ever try to catch an animal himself.

Geralt cursed under his breath. He needed to hurry.

Had there been anything useful he had taught Jaskier in all these years? Anything at all that might make sure that he didn’t starve out there in the wild?

Water. That was always the first thing one needed to find. Last time Geralt had seen Jaskier, the bard hadn’t carried a waterskin or flask with him. If he wanted to drink, he’d have to veer off the path and find a body of water. The thought sent an unpleasant chill down his back. Too many dangers lurked in lakes and swamps.

Geralt sharpened his senses, taking note of any sign that Jaskier might have left the path.

There! Twigs that were broken in a way that made it unlikely that an animal had done it. Geralt followed the trail, his heart beating faster with every sign of Jaskier he found.

Footsteps.

More broken twigs.

Leaves that were shredded on the ground, doubtlessly something Jaskier had done to keep his hands occupied.

Finally, after another hour of trudging through the underbrush, Geralt found it. A pond in the middle of a clearing. He took in a deep breath and relief flooded his senses. Jaskier’s scent was stronger here. He must have been here recently and lingered for a while – not a surprise, considering he had likely been on the open road for days without a chance to drink much or wash himself.

Geralt’s shoulders dropped slightly and he felt himself relax, when he noted something else. Another scent, coppery and pungent. Blood.

“No.”

Geralt rushed forward, his mind refusing to understand. His eyes fell on something he had mistaken for twigs lying on the ground before. But it was something else. A makeshift fishing rod, the line of which was a thin strap of the same fabric Jaskier’s chemise had been made out of. It was snapped in half.

He kneeled down, picking up the halves with a trembling hand. It smelled like more blood and to the splintered ends hung a blueish-grey flap of skin. Drowner skin.

Geralt’s stomach churned and his grip on the rod became tight enough to nearly snap it again. He needed to breathe. To focus. To find Jaskier.

With more strength than he believed himself to have, Geralt pushed himself back to his feet. There were signs of struggle all around. Someone – Jaskier – had been dragged through the grass towards the water, but the tracks didn’t reach the pond.

When Geralt came closer, something glinted in the sparse light that shone through the canopy of leaves overhead. He furrowed his brows, but a wave of relief hit him when he recognised what it was. The small knife he had thought lost. Its blade was covered in the sickening smell of blood. Jaskier hadn’t been helpless, neither in a fight nor when it came to survival.

Geralt took another deep breath, this time, as his mind wasn’t clouded with overwhelming fear, he could find only mild traces of Jaskier’s blood in the air. Most of it came from the drowners that must have attacked him.

Geralt was just about to turn away from the pond to find where Jaskier could have run off to, when something caught his eye. Something was half-buried in the mud at the water’s edge. Perhaps something Jaskier had flung at the drowners as an improvised weapon?

Geralt didn’t know why he leaned closer. It wasn’t important what exactly Jaskier had used to fend off the drowners, the only thing that mattered was that he had gotten away. And yet, Geralt couldn’t tear his eyes away from the light brown object lying there, an eerie feeling creeping up at him as he stared at the one thing he had never dared to think he could be finding out here. He blinked, not comprehending, as his fingers touched the wood and pulled out a carved animal.

For a moment he thought it was the wolf – the figure that was more important to Jaskier than any of the others. The one that was meant to stay with him when Geralt was gone. The one thing beside his lute that could still offer him comfort –, but then Geralt looked closer.

This carving had none of the craftsmanship of someone who had been whittling for years. He could recognise a head and legs, but most importantly, he didn’t recognise it as anything he had made. This wasn’t one of the carvings he had given Jaskier.

His brows drew together and his grip tightened on the carving. He had to force himself to tear his eyes away from the impossible thing in his hand and focus on the scene of the fight again.

The signs of struggle turned into muddy footprints again, leaving away from the pond. Without hesitating a second longer, Geralt followed them.

Roach snorted in displeasure, when he led her through more rough terrain, but he couldn’t consider losing Jaskier’s trail for a more passable path. He was close! He could feel it, smell it in the scent that Jaskier had left, could hear it –

He could hear it. Jaskier.

It was faint, at first, far away. But it was unmistakably singing. Geralt wasn’t close enough to understand the words yet, but it was Jaskier’s voice.

Geralt didn’t think. He sprinted through the trees, trusting Roach to follow him on her own.

The singing grew louder the closer he got. Loud enough for Geralt to recognised the melody that had sent him off on his search for the carvings. The song of Jaskier’s heartbreak over the loss of his carvings.

Twigs snapped into Geralt’s face, tore at his hair, scratched his skin, but he didn’t care. Jaskier was here. He was safe. He was so close!

“But perhaps I’m his to miss

As I do him since I watched him go.

I’m yours, my wolf.

Oh tell me, please

Won’t you be mine?”

This was new. It was rawer than anything Jaskier had sung before. It was pure heartbreak.

The bushes parted before Geralt and his breath caught in his throat. There Jaskier was, sitting on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest and his hands he clutched the wolf figure. Scratches littered his face and arms where his doublet was torn, but there were no injuries bigger than bruises and scratches. He was breathing. His heart was beating. He was here.

“Jaskier.” Geralt breathed his name like a blessing.

Jaskier’s head snapped up to him, but before his expression could fully morph from shock to anything else, Geralt had run over to him and fallen to his knees before him.

“Geralt, what –“

He didn’t let him finish. He dropped what he was holding and just grabbed him by the shoulders, crushing him against his chest.

“You’re safe,” Geralt whispered in Jaskier’s hair, his hands roaming over every inch of Jaskier’s body they could reach. “You are alive.”

Jaskier tensed and his shuddering breath tickled Geralt’s neck. For a moment, Geralt thought Jaskier was going to push him away, but then he returned the embrace, pressing himself impossibly closer against Geralt, clutching the fabric of Geralt’s shirt desperately.

“What are you doing here, Geralt?”

Geralt pulled away again, but his hands didn’t leave Jaskier. They wandered up his back and over his shoulders until he was cupping Jaskier’s face tenderly. His eyes raked over the small cuts in his skin.

A crease formed between Geralt’s brows. “Searching for you. When I came back to the inn and you weren’t there, I thought – why did you leave?”

Jaskier’s eyes darted between Geralt’s.

“I- You left. We were talking about separating for winter and then I messed up and I thought… I thought this was it. I had finally been too much.” He hesitated. “Haven’t I?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said softly. “How could you be too much? How could you think I’d ever just leave you?”

Jaskier swallowed, his gaze dropping to the ground. “You heard my song. I didn’t mean to tell you like that. Not in front of all those people. But…I knew that if I did it close to winter and you rejected me, you’d be able to put distance between us easily.” He closed his eyes and placed his hand that wasn’t still holding Winter, over Geralt’s wrist and gently pulled it away from his face.

“And I was right, wasn’t I?” Jaskier’s flickering smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You were clearly uncomfortable with how I felt and then you left. What else was I to think?”  

Geralt’s frown deepened in confusion, but he made sure his voice was soft and soothing, when he said, “I wouldn’t leave you because you were angry at me. I understand how you felt and – that is, unless you want me to leave?” Sudden uncertainty seized Geralt. “If you want to be away from me, that’s alright. Just let me get you to Oxenfurt safely first.”

“No!” Jaskier’s grip on his wrist tightened. “Don’t. If you don’t want to leave, then don’t.” Something shifted in his expression.

Geralt nodded slowly. “Then I won’t. I always meant to come back for you. I told you, I just needed to fix what I had broken.”

He let his thumb caress Jaskier’s cheek one last time, before pulling away and reaching for the bag with the carvings he had carelessly dropped before.

“I couldn’t let you be alone for winter without your carvings.” Without something to remember me by. “I had to get them back for you.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened. A disbelieving smile stretched his lips.

“You did that? For me?”

Geralt swallowed thickly. “Always for you.”

Slowly, Jaskier let go of Geralt’s wrist and reached for the bag, but just before he could touch it, Geralt brought it closer to his chest again, pulling it out of reach from Jaskier.

“Wait,” he said quickly.

“What’s wrong?”

Geralt’s mouth went dry and his throat grew tight. “I…There’s something I need to tell you first.”

He could hear Jaskier’s breath hitch and his heart speed up.

“What is it?” Jaskier nearly whispered, leaning closer to Geralt.

“I’ve been lying to you.” Geralt forced the words past his lips, despite a year of doubts and fears screaming at him to just shut up. “I’m sorry. I never meant for it to go this far. I never meant for this to break your heart.”

“Geralt…”

“I made them,” he blurted out, squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t bear look at Jaskier as he confessed to his lies. Couldn’t see the disappointment and betrayal in his eyes. “The carvings. They are mine. I didn’t…I couldn’t ruin your belief in the fae and they made you so happy. I know I should have told you right away but…I just couldn’t. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “The figures were never supposed to mean anything. They were just something I made and left and forgot about. And then you found the bear and…and you gave it meaning. And every single figure that came after it seemed to mean more to you and I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t…I didn’t know how not to break your heart.”

A soft hand touched Geralt’s atop of the bag he was gripping tightly and softly caressed his knuckles until ever so slowly, some of the tension eased away.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked. “Can you look at me?”

That was all Jaskier had wanted. He had said it at the coast. He wanted the fae to look him in the eyes and tell him why. The reason was already at the tip of Geralt’s tongue. Another confession ready to hang between them. But when Geralt opened his eyes, his words got stuck in his throat.

Jaskier wasn’t looking at him with contempt. No trace of anger was etched into his skin. Yet his eyes were glistening with tears.

Geralt’s heart clenched painfully. He wanted to reach out, to hold Jaskier close, to make this better.

But he was the reason why tears threatened to spill from Jaskier’s eyes, why he had left on his own to go to Oxenfurt without protection, why he had lost the trust that people could want to stay with him.

“Jaskier-“

“I had hoped it was you.” The corner of Jaskier’s lips tugged upwards into a weak smile. “For such a long time I had wanted it to be you and then when you gave me the wolf, I had known for sure, but I hadn’t known why.”

“You knew?” Geralt blinked, unable to understand. “But – how? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you didn’t. Because as long as I didn’t ask you why you kept making the figures, I wouldn’t have to hear you say that there was no meaning to them, that I just got them because you had nothing better to do with them. At first I thought you were afraid of telling me, so I tried to tell you that it was alright, that you could trust me with this. But when you still didn’t say anything…I became the one who was afraid.” He added the last part quietly, his voice barely more than a breath.

Geralt’s mind was racing. It didn’t make sense. “You still took them. You knew they weren’t from the fae and you still accepted them.” He let out a sharp breath, his eyes searching Jaskier’s face for something to help him understand. “You knew they came from me and they still made you happy?”

A short, disbelieving laugh escaped Jaskier. “Of course. Why did you think they meant so much to me? When I still thought they came from the fae, they were special. A novelty. Everyone wanted to find one. But a gift from you? Geralt, there is nothing that could be more meaningful to me.”

Geralt’s heart fluttered. “I didn’t know – I wanted to tell you. When I was hallucinating. I’m not even sure you were really there, but I wanted you to know.”

“I was there.” A shadow flashed through Jaskier’s eyes. “I didn’t want you to tell me then. Not if it wasn’t really your choice. With the toxins…I didn’t want to break your trust by letting you tell me without having control over it.”

“You deserved to know. If I had died without telling you-“

Jaskier winced. “Don’t. I know. That’s what I kept thinking about while you were unconscious. What if you died and I never got to tell you?” He hesitated. “That’s why I started – but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Started what?”

Jaskier avoided Geralt’s eyes and his fingers on Geralt’s hands twitched nervously, but he didn’t let go.

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated. “I lost it anyway.”

Geralt furrowed his brow as he searched Jaskier’s face, trying to understand. What had Jaskier lost? Geralt had brought back everything important to Jaskier from camp. His notebook, his clothes, the carvings…

Geralt’s gaze dropped to the carving he had found at the pond, lying innocently in the grass next to them. His eyes went wide.

As if in a trance, he reached out for it, lifted it to his face to examine it closer. He could feel Jaskier’s eyes on him as he ran his thumb over the unevenly carved wood. Jaskier hadn’t taken Geralt’s knife to help him survive, had he?

“It’s not as good as the ones you made,” Jaskier said quietly, shrugging in a vain attempt to appear nonchalant. “I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

Geralt turned the animal over. Four legs, one of which was cracked, while another was broken off. A tail that looked a bit lumpy, a head that was misshapen and the proportions were all off.

Still, it was unmistakably a horse.

Geralt’s lips twitched as he looked up at Jaskier again, unable and unwilling to hide the wonder and affection in his expression.

“Roach?”

Red heat rose in Jaskier’s cheeks as he nodded. “It’s not finished yet. I wanted it to look better and I thought I’d have more time. And then, when I had missed my chance, I stopped working on it.”

“More time before what?” Didn’t Jaskier have all the time in the world? Surely, once he had reached Oxenfurt, Jaskier would have found time between lectures to continue working. There would have been no rush to finish it.

Jaskier looked at him with an unreadable expression and his voice was small, when he finally answered.

“Before you left.”

Joke, you know it would break Roach’s heart if I left you.

“Did you want my help? I can…if you wanted to, I could still teach you how to whittle.” Geralt remembered vividly how lost and frustrated he had felt, when he had first started woodcarving. If possible, the bird that had been his first attempt at whittling had looked even more misshapen than the horse he was now holding. Not to mention the blisters Geralt had gotten from whittling that had made it uncomfortable to hold his sword and –

Geralt froze. Slowly, he let go of the bag with the carvings and turned his hand so that he was now holding Jaskier’s. He turned it until he could see Jaskier’s palms.

“You hurt yourself,” Geralt said, rubbing small circles into Jaskier’s wrist. “The blisters, your wrists…that didn’t come from playing the lute too much, did it?”

Jaskier shook his head silently. Something twisted painfully in Geralt’s chest.

“But why? If it hurt you, why did you keep working on it?” Geralt faltered. “Is it because I stopped making them after we went to the coast?” He gave Jaskier’s hand a light squeeze. “I can still make you another one. If you want a horse, I can make one. Or…or a rabbit. Or a squirrel. Any animal you want.” He swallowed and dropped his gaze to the bag in his lap that Jaskier hadn’t taken from him yet. “That is, if you still want to have the carvings I made.” After Geralt hurt him enough to leave all on his own, he wouldn’t be surprised if the gifts had soured for Jaskier. “But please, don’t hurt yourself.”

Jaskier let out a choked noise and his fingers twitched again. “You don’t need to give me things, Geralt. We’ve been over this.” He let out a small noise that could have been a laugh. “You gave me a stick once and it meant the world to me. Besides.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips nervously, “I didn’t make the horse for myself. I know it’s not good enough to give it away, which is why I kept it, but the horse was never mine to keep.”

“Oh.”

Geralt’s heart dropped. Of course. How could he have forgotten. Jaskier still had someone out there, someone whom he wanted to give gifts too. Geralt’s chest cramped up at the thought of Jaskier gifting his beloved the same thing that Geralt had given to Jaskier when he had had no words to make Jaskier smile.

And still. If this would guarantee Jaskier’s happiness…

“I would still do it,” Geralt said quietly, the words tasting like razor blades on his tongue. “If you want the horse to be a gift, I will still help you.”

Jaskier gave him a crooked smile. He hesitated, but then he took his free hand and closed used it to close Geralt’s fingers around the horse.

“That would defeat the purpose, don’t you think? Working on your own gift.”

“My own…” Geralt’s eyes went wide and his treacherous heart skipped a beat. Jaskier couldn’t possibly mean what Geralt’s foolish heart thought he meant.

“It’s for you,” Jaskier said softly and let go of Geralt again. “I know it’s not beautiful or useful and it would probably take up space you need for other things, but if you want it, it’s yours.”

Mine.

Geralt’s breath got caught in his throat. For a long moment, he couldn’t tear his eyes off Jaskier, but then he looked back down at the wooden horse in his hand. It was imperfect and, as Jaskier had said, far from beautiful. Geralt had no need for carvings or trinkets. There was no use for them and if this had been one of the carvings Geralt had made himself, he would have had no qualms, leaving it in the woods.

But this was from Jaskier. He had made it for him. The little lumpy horse with the missing leg and strangely proportioned head was the most beautiful and precious thing Geralt had ever owned.

A lump formed in his throat and his eyes started burning.

“Why?” His voice was raspy and bordering on desperate. There was so much more that he wanted to say, to ask, but this was all he could get out before his throat closed off again.

Jaskier shifted his weight and pulled his shoulders up a little.

“You have given me all those beautiful carvings. So many gifts to remember you by and yet you had nothing from me. I wanted you to have something of mine when you left. So that maybe in winter, you could look at it and think of me.”

Geralt opened his mouth to protest, to say that he didn’t need any reminder of Jaskier, that not an hour went by without Geralt thinking about the way his laugh sounded, his touch felt or his eyes looked. But before a single word could leave his lips, Jaskier continued.

“When I found you in the woods, I thought I had missed my chance to tell you how important you are to me. I needed you to have something to remind you of that. I thought that if I gave you something I had carved, you wouldn’t feel like you had to hide anymore that you had been the one to give me the gifts. And I hoped that maybe – no, it’s stupid. Forget it.”

“Jaskier-“

“No, you were right. I gave the carvings more meaning than they had. I shouldn’t have. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t made them mean so much to me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Geralt said in a voice so sincere that Jaskier’s big eyes got even wider.

“Then what did you mean?”

“The carvings I made before you found the bear didn’t mean anything. But once I started making them for you, it was impossible for them to be meaningless anymore. You mean too much to me for them to mean nothing.”

Geralt hesitated. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest and he wanted to hide. To turn tail and not bare this last secret of his heart to Jaskier.

But this was what Jaskier had wanted. The truth. The one thing he had asked for that Geralt had refused to give him. Until now.

Taking one last deep breath, Geralt let go of Jaskier’s hand and reached into the bag instead, pulling out the first of the gifts he had made with Jaskier in mind.

He held the bird up for Jaskier to take. “I know I don’t say it nearly often enough, but you have the most beautiful singing voice. Your songs make being on the Path so much easier. Not only the ones you sing in taverns to change my reputation, but all of them. Hearing you sing to yourself while you search for firewood, listening to you senselessly serenade Roach to bribe her, seeing you deep in thought, plucking away at your lute. All of it. The Path was always quiet before you. The only thing I listened for, was whether there was danger nearby. You gave me something else to listen to. Something soft and beautiful.”

“Geralt…” Jaskier’s lips moved silently, as if he couldn’t find his words, while for once Geralt was the one who couldn’t stop his own words from tumbling from his lips, despite not having known exactly he had wanted to say until he had opened his mouth.

“We don’t have Friend anymore,” Geralt continued, before Jaskier could find his words again or courage forsook Geralt, “but that is what you are. The best friend I could ever ask for. The first friend I had made since Blaviken and the only one who stayed with me for as long as you have, despite what you have seen of me. You are…warm and soft and so full of comfort. I don’t know if this is too much to say, but to me, you are family.”

The pungent smell of salt pierced Geralt’s nose and when he looked at Jaskier in alarm, Jaskier was blinking furiously.

“Jask,” Geralt began uncertainly. “Are you alright? I…I’m sorry, if I said anything wrong. I can stop. I’m sorry-“

“Don’t stop,” Jaskier said. HIs voice sounded choked, but his hand shot forth to take the songbird out of Geralt’s hand and cradle it against his chest. “Please don’t stop.”

Geralt hesitated for a heartbeat longer, uncertain despite Jaskier’s words, whether he was hurting him again somehow. Then he swallowed thickly and nodded.

He searched for the next carving, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he found it and sat it down in front of Jaskier.

“I don’t know if you remember, because you were quite drunk when I told you, but I haven’t been able to pet a cat since becoming a witcher.”

Jaskier nodded and rubbed his hand across his eyes.

“When I told you back then, you gave me the sheep to hold instead. Because that’s something that had always made you happy.” A fondness welled up in Geralt at the memory. “You make me happy, Jaskier. I am alright with knowing that I won’t ever pet a cat and I was fine knowing that I would never find someone like you either. But you’re here. You’re always here. You give me so much. You make me want something – someone – I never thought I could have. You make me want and need you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s the best thing.”

A choked noise escaped Jaskier and he turned his face away, but not fast enough to hide the tear that rolled down his cheek. Without thinking, Geralt brushed it away, letting his hand linger on Jaskier’s cheek until his hitched breathing got back under control. Jaskier leaned into the touch with closed eyes, letting Geralt caress his cheek with his thumb and wipe away any tears that escaped Jaskier.

When Geralt made no move to speak up again, Jaskier opened his eyes again and with a watery but bright smile said, “The snake is next, isn’t it?”

Geralt snorted. “I still can’t believe you didn’t just throw it away.”

When Jaskier lifted his chin in defiance, Geralt shook his head fondly and pulled the stick out of the back and held it up to Jaskier, who snatched it out of his grip, immediately.

“Of course I didn’t throw it away. You gave it to me.”

“Anybody else would have discarded it. They wouldn’t have bothered to accept it in the first place. It’s just a stick. Nothing special. It’s just making your bag dirty and it’s not beautiful.” Geralt couldn’t stop his expression from softening. “But you still kept it. Thank you, Jaskier. For not casting me aside.”

“You didn’t cast me aside either,” Jaskier said tentatively. “I’m sorry for thinking you did.”

“Don’t be.” Geralt gave him a soft smile, though his stomach twisted when the tears kept streaming down Jaskier’s face.

For a moment, he watched helplessly, as Jaskier tried to stop the tears and wipe them away with his sleeve, before he pulled out the next carving. The fish.

“I guess we have a matching set now,” Geralt said with a lopsided smirk and lifted the horse in his other hand.

Jaskier let out a watery laugh that made Geralt’s chest warm from the inside.

“I never told anyone but Eskel about why I call all my horses Roach. You listened. You always do, even if I don’t say anything with words.”

Jaskier sniffled. “I’m not always good at listening.” Pointedly, he looked at the trees surrounding them. “If I was, we wouldn’t be here now.”

Geralt let out a low hum. “Maybe not. But I don’t mind being here with you. And you still hear more than I can say with words. You…you pay attention. There are not many people who would bother to learn what I mean or even listen to a witcher. I negotiate contracts and pay and for most people that is it. They don’t care about what else I have to say. And then there’s you. You keep needling me about details of my hunts and ask me for my opinion on your songs as if it mattered – “

“It does,” Jaskier interrupted him. “Of course your opinion is important.”

“It is to you,” Geralt relented quietly. “You have no idea how special that is to me. I know I still don’t talk much often, but you make me feel like I can try. I’m not a poet. I know my words aren’t as good as what other people can say to you. I can’t speak in verse or compare you to the sun or moon.”

Jaskier’s tear-streaked smile was like the sun bursting through a rain cloud. “I like the words you’re saying right now.” There was a hint of teasing in his tone, but it was overshadowed by the sincerity that gave it weight.

Geralt’s chest grew even tighter and he grinned when he pulled out the last carving, the fox that reminded Geralt of a night spent under the stars. Of Jaskier leaning against him and being happy to receive a gift, even though he had known that Geralt had lied to him about having found the fox figure. And it was a reminder of Jaskier crumbling before him, devastated and thinking that he wasn’t trusted enough to be told the truth. That he wasn’t important enough to Geralt.

Geralt placed the fox in front of Jaskier like a sacrifice. Jaskier’s eyes followed the movement and remained on the figure, a small smile dancing around his lips.

Without the figures, Geralt’s hand felt strangely empty. Without thinking, he took Jaskier’s chin in his hand and tilted his head up until their eyes met again.

“My little fox,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful.”

He heard Jaskier’s breath hitch and Geralt’s thumb caressed Jaskier’s chin, brushing lightly against his bottom lip.

“Beautiful,” he repeated. Panic overcame Geralt, when Jaskier’s chin began to wobble again and he squeezed his eyes shut to prevent more tears from falling. He didn’t know what to do, how to make Jaskier stop crying.  Helplessly, he grasped the first thing that came to mind. With a lopsided grin, he added, “One might even say you’re roguishly handsome.”

A laugh bubbled up in Jaskier that soothed the panic in Geralt.

“Oh?” Jaskier said, the teasing now obvious and when he opened his eyes again, they were glinting with mischief rather than tears. “What else could you call me?”

Geralt’s lips twitched and he groaned in a mockery of annoyance. “Don’t make me say it,” he begged, already knowing full well that he was going to repeat the ridiculous word Jaskier had described himself with at the coast.

“Make you say what?” Jaskier asked with false innocence.

Geralt narrowed his eyes at him and when Jaskier only lifted a brow, he let out a sigh and relented.

“Fine. You’re foxy. Happy now?”

“Very,” Something in the way his eyes softened as he said it, made Geralt think that he didn’t only mean his triumph about getting Geralt to call him that.

“You are?” Geralt asked again, uncertain if he hadn’t misunderstood. “Happy? With me here. Despite…despite me having lied to you and made you believe that I had left you?”

“You came back,” Jaskier said as if that explained everything, leaning into Geralt’s touch. His eyes drifted down to the carvings sitting between them, each one with their own precious meaning hanging in the air. “And you gave me the most wonderful gift.”

“I’ll always come back. You – I always thought that I couldn’t have anyone with me. That having someone worth coming back to was dangerous.” When Jaskier’s brows pinched together and he opened his mouth to protest, Geralt continued quickly. “And it is, but you make it worth it. You make me want to be more than what they taught me to be at Kaer Morhen or what other people see in me.” He let go of Jaskier’s chin and as his hand sunk back down, it hovered for just a moment above Jaskier’s heart. “You make me want to be the person you see in me.” He swallowed thickly and dropped his hand back into his lap where it clenched and unclenched. “Because of you. It’s always been because of you.”

He didn’t know what exactly he was referring to. Everything. For years, everything he had done had been influenced by Jaskier, by what would make him feel safe or make him smile. By what would make him want to stay with Geralt.

“I know this,” Geralt gestured to the carvings, “isn’t much. Others can give you more and you deserve more than gifts from a witcher, but it is all I can give to you.”

Jaskier’s shoulders moved as another sob shook him, or perhaps it was a watery laugh.

“Geralt,” he said, with disbelief and unbearable fondness written on his face. “How could you think I’d ever want anything from you but you?”

Geralt’s heart sped up as hope welled up in his chest. “So you’re not leaving for Oxenfurt? You’ll still travel with me for a bit?”

“For as long as you’ll have me. I thought I had made myself clear with my song, but evidently I have been wrong.” Jaskier placed a hand above Geralt’s hand holding onto the horse carving. “Do you understand the carving, then?”

Geralt mouth went dry as Jaskier’s thumb caressed his knuckles.

“I think I’m starting to understand. Or maybe I’m just hoping.” His eyes followed the movement of Jaskier’s thumb, then he looked back up and met Jaskier’s gaze. There was a depth to the fondness in Jaskier’s eyes that Geralt had never allowed himself before to think it could be for him. “Explain it to me?”

Jaskier’s lips twitched up. “It’s a horse because you love Roach. I wanted you to have something of mine that you could love. And…” He hesitated, his eyes searching Geralt’s face. One last moment of doubt for the both of them, but for once, Geralt was the brave man of Jaskier’s songs and let everything he felt show on his face for Jaskier to see, “you know what the legend says. He, who finds the fae’s gifts will find their love within a year.”

“Even if that myth were real,” Geralt said with deliberate slowness, so that there was no doubt Jaskier could understand him, “I wouldn’t need the fae’s favour. I have already found the one I love.” His smile became crooked. “Though I suppose, the carving has led me to him.”

When Jaskier let out a shuddering breath, Geralt asked carefully, “What about you? You found the first carving months ago. You still have time before your year is up.”

“I still have the winter months to get my love,” Jaskier agreed with a faint smile, “but I’m afraid I won’t be seeing him in those months. He has the habit of leaving me for the winter.”

The glimmer of hope flared up in Geralt’s chest, turning into a blazing fire, just shy of becoming a certainty, but enough to give him the bravery he had lacked for so long.

“If you were to come with me to Kaer Morhen, you’d still have those months. Will that be enough to find your love?”

“I found it years ago,” Jaskier lifted Geralt’s hand, despite the horse still clutched in it and brought it to his lips. The light press of Jaskier’s lips against his knuckles sent a pleasant shiver up Geralt’s spine. Jaskier’s lips brushed once more against Geralt’s skin, when he began to sing, while keeping his gaze locked on Geralt’s eyes. “I’m yours, my wolf. Oh tell me, please. Won’t you be mine?”

His free hand trembled, as it came up to touch Jaskier’s face once more. “I never told you what the wolf carving meant, did I?”

He leaned in closer to Jaskier, their breaths almost mingling.

“What does it mean then?” Jaskier asked. He was so close, Geralt could almost imagine feeling his lips against his own.

It meant everything. It meant that Jaskier was part of Geralt’s family. It meant that when Geralt was with Jaskier, he felt like he truly belonged. It meant that Jaskier was his home.

“It means that I’m yours,” Geralt rasped.

Jaskier let out a small gasp, leaning impossibly closer, but still not touching.

“Geralt?”

“Yes?”

“You know I don’t need you to give me things, but…can I ask one more thing of you?”

“What do you want?”

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered close. “Your heart.”

“You have it. Can I give you something else too?”

Jaskier gave the smallest nod. And Geralt closed the gap between them and gave Jaskier a kiss.

---

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Love Doesn’t Do Encores Ch17 Return To Hammerlocke

To say you hated flying anywhere now would be an understatement. YOU ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY DETESTED IT!! The only reason you agreed was because it was already paid for and because it was the fastest way back to Hammerlocke. Woo hoo. You weren't really in the mood for more video game-..Uh. Strangers flirting with you, but at least Ms. Opal was nice company on the way there and it was very nice of her to pay for the entire ride over to Hammerlocke. You and Gloria buckled in on one side, with your Drizzilie and her on the other. When you all left Bellonlea you were a bit more cautious of your slow pace with her as you walked along the beautiful woods to leave, and kept snapping your head about keeping an eye out for any Team Yell members or that looney guy again. It was nerve wracking to say the least. Luckily you didn't run into neither when you finally got back to the lamp posts and the entrance into the forest. The corviknight and it's owner were fast asleep in one of the shadows of the trees before being woken up by Opal tapping him with her umbrella and requesting he take all of you to Hammerlocke. And after steeling your nerves and guts, you all piled in and did just that....for the next four and a half DAYS!! Opal had just relaxed back with her eyes closed most of the trip leaving you and Gloria to quietly talk between you two(when you weren't gripping your seat and forcing yourself to not look out the windows-) or more commonly watch more videos on her phone. Opal remaining silent and you would've sworn she was asleep if she hadn't opened her eyes whenever Gloria talked to her and talked back to you both in a polite but right to the point kinda way. Never heard anyone talk quite like her. You also made a few pitstops every few towns, mostly at night to let the driver rest and you have time to eat something at the local inn without having to worry about getting air sick for a while, before it was back to the fear inducing ride. You swore when you got back you were NEVER EVER going hang gliding, or even travel by plane after this. You also learnt within that time Opal was apparently looking for a successor to take over her gym soon and the person had to have something 'pink'...Whatever she meant by that. Eventually Gloria also found a good way to distract you away from your fear for short periods of time by the third day when she asked if there was anything you really liked listening too.

You blinked kinda surprised by her but shrugged and said, "Well, I've always loved music. In fact I wanted to go into the industry when I was your age."

She seemed surprised at your answer and even Opal cracked open a eye towards you silently. "Really? Why didn't ya ever say anythin' before?"

You shrugged with a slight frown. "Eeeeehhh. It's kinda...Complicated. I wouldn't say I'm bad but I'm not good enough of a singer for me to make a career out of it, and I can't really play any instruments too well. Unless you count the kazoo."

"What about a song writer? Bet you'd be good at that."

You shrugged. "I tried, but I'm not that creative enough to figure that out. But I am pretty good at working speakers, and I know a lot about how instruments are made and how they work. So I was going to get a business liscense and try to open by own Music Store."

"Well why didn't you?"

You paused at her question for a moment. You couldn't just say "Because I got sucked into an alternate dimension where pokemon happens to be real based off a game I used to play" unless you wanted them to think you were crazy!! Thinking quickly you shrugged and told the truth. "I left home around the time I was supposed to and started traveling." Which was the truth even tho you weren't sure exactly how you left or how to get back.

"Huh. Well I guess everyone wants ta see the world and do somethin' excitin'," Gloria said with a smile and you sighed in relief. Before she held up her phone to you. "If ya like music how 'bout I show ya more of Piers's songs? It'd be a good way ta pass the time. He's written n' sung LOTS of 'em."

You blinked....Piers?? OH! That Piers. "Oh. You mean the gym leader you told me about? I think I remember you showed me one of his songs back at Postwick."

She nodded. "He's a good musician. Ya wanna see some?"

"Sure why not?"

And thus the two of you relaxed back a little more now that you could watch this Piers person singing and mostly rock music filled the taxi cab for most of the remainder ride there. Of course you two made sure Ms. Opal was fine with it and after cracking an eye open said she didn't care at all. While you two watched him you had to admit his unique voice added to whatever vibe the music was with the accent he had melting among it....But when you looked at his blue eyes and pale-ish skin..you couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu that you've seen him before. Which you brushed off because of course you had seen him before when Gloria showed you a video of him performing with a band back at Postwick. Besides, you had more important things to worry about. Like getting home and right now getting to Hammerlocke in one piece. Which also happened the very next day. Gloria had pointed it out early in the morning when she looked out the window and pointed but you couldn't get yourself to look down in fear of losing your breakfast, clutching the seat tightly and praying the landing wouldn't be the same as the last time you landed. Luckily whoever was listening to your prayers answered them because other than one rough shove from the corviknight putting the cab on the ground, the decent and landing proceedure was pretty smooth. THANK GOODNESS!! When you finally peered out the window you were greeted with one of the entrances/exits to Hammerlocke. In fact it was the same one you two had traveled Route Six out of to head to Stow-on-Side. A Gym League staff worker awaited by the entrance, most likely for their badge rule too no doubt.

The taxi driver was quick to hop down and open the door for you three as well. "We're here ladies. Hope the trip was alright for you."

"Thank you, Young man," Opal commented slowly getting up and leaving the cab with you and Gloria right behind her. Once out she breathed a sigh of fresh air before looking up at the castle like town, "Hammerlocke. Always such a dusty town. Though I suppose some pokemon prefer it that way. "

Without even looking back to you she began slowly walking off towards the entrance, and you two slowly followed with Opal in front of you two. She was easily able to walk past the man who stood at the entrance but like the last time you were here, stopped Gloria, asked if she was a Gym Challenger, and then asked to see her badges. Opal continued walking as the two of you stopped and Gloria had to dig through her backpack to show the man her badge circle of five badges attached to it. With a nod you both were let in and she stuffed it back into her bag as you two continued off after Opal. And you looking around nervously keeping an eye out for Raihan just in case. ....But it seemed as Ms. Opal disappeared as you two walked along and looked around.

"Where did she go?," you asked peeking into the window of a cafe as you walked by but she wasn't in there. "She wasn't that far ahead of us."

Gloria shrugged as she looked at the people walking by. "She said she had some errands ta run so maybe she ducked into one o' these shops."

Hm. Maybe. You both continued walking and looking around as you neared the corner where the pink pokemon center you remembered seeing. As you two got closer and closer to the corner, someone with white fluffy hair and a giant pink coat rounding the other side of the corner onto the street on which you both walked. Both of you froze upon realizing the identity of the person who was walking towards the both of you. And he too froze lavender eyes blinking widely at the both of you as well as his jaw dropped somewhat. ...Before he pointed at you two with a large scowl.

"YOU!?"

"Uh...Hey, Bede," Gloria greeted with an awkward wave.

His scowl deepened as he shouted at her. "Come to gawk at me now that I've had my challenge band taken away and my gym challenger status revoked?!" ...WHAT!? Both your eyes widened as you looked at one another. Bede growling in frustration before gripping his fluffy white locks. "I've had to spend the past days working under that despicable Raihan person as 'punishment' for what happened in Stow-on-Side!! Do you know how much that idiot makes you work doing the most ridiculous things!? And now I run into you here too! Can you really afford to waste time like this?!"

"HEY!" Gloria scowled as well pointing a hand at him. "I was the one who saved your bloody sorry self from bein' crushed by a rock after you decided to play contruction worker with the mural! If it wasn't for me you'd be flatter than a waffle under yer own mess!!"

He scoff and turned his nose away. "Well....I suppose so. You no longer have to worry about catching up with me after all." His eyes narrowed at her. "I'll have you know though that I haven't given up! I must become the champion in order to help out the chairman! I will go and ask him to let me rejoin the gym challenge!"

"Again with the Chairman, mate?," Gloria sighed letting her arms flop to her sides as she turned from a scowl to a pitied look. "Look Bede. I dunno what to tell ya. It's kinda useless to keep wantin' ta help someone who kicked ya out of the challenge. Tho considerin' what ya did I'm not surprised that's what happened. Maybe ya should just forget 'bout the guy altogether."

He gasped offended a hand to his chest. "How dare you insult my reasonings with your twisted nonsense! Any girl who'd even consider fighting for my affection wouldn't be so brazen!"

"What are ye goin' on 'bout now?!"

"Hm? That boy." You jumped as the two kids still argued with one another, whirling around to face none other than Ms. Opal herself and she was staring right at Bede with curiousity in her eyes. ..Wait. Where the heck did she come from!? "Now that's what I could call pink! So sincere and straightforward yet so twisted and misguided. I like it! That's the kind of thing that gives people some depth!" Eventually Bede looked up from Gloria and had to do a double take blinking in confusion at the new arrival. "Time for my gym mission, Child!"

"HUH!?" Bede asked leaning back in confusion and surprise at what the older woman just barked at him. "W-Wha-!?"

You yelped as suddenly with speed you didn't think she had Opal RAN past you and up to Bede who froze in place wide eyed as she looked him over. "Pink! Pink! Pink!" She shouted as she examined him. ...What did 'Pink' even mean!? She chuckled a bit examining the frozen boy's dynamax band before looking up to him with a smile. "Congratulations, Child."

"M-Ms. Opal!?," Bede sputtered out pulling his hand away from her as he looked uneasy leaning away. Wait. Bede knew who she was? "What in the world has gotten in you?!"

"You were used by Oleana. Am I right?" Bede froze once again and behind her both of you exchanged bewildered looks behind them. Opal took his silence as a yes because she hummed and nodded. "You worked hard to gather wishing stars for her only to have her throw you away like rubbish once she was done with you." Wait...How did she know that? "Come with me, Child. I might be able to help you out." She offered.

And Bede ...blinked. "I...W-What?" He shook his head before frowning. "A-Are you saying you'd be able to get me reestablished back into the challenge?"

She chuckled and nodded. "Of course, it all depends on how much hard work you're willing to put in too."

"Are you...Are you testing me?," Bede challenged before clearing his throat and shaking his head, hands tucked into his pockets as he attempted to look calm. "Very well. I accept! In fact I plan on making sure you see my full talents and tell me everything you know about the wishing stars!"

She chuckled again before smiling wider. "I think my errands to Hammerlocke have been met." Taking a moment she turned to Gloria who blinked at her. "Farewell for now, Child. You should head to Circhester. I take it you know how to get to Route Seven." And she turned away back towards Route Six and simply began walking away. Like nothing that happened just happened.

Bede made to follow but paused before turning back to Gloria who still watched silently- Before clearing his throat and turning away again. "I-I still haven't decided what to say to you officially. I'll need more time to think and at the moment I-I'm way too busy! So d-don't follow me around!"

Gloria's brow rose more clearly confused. "Uh....Alright." You both watched as he jogged on after the older woman before she blinked and turned to you with a shrug. "What was that all about?"

......You smiled. "Oh nothing. I think they'll both be fine. I have a good feeling about this." You turned and nodded towards the train station. "C'mon. It's still morning so we'll have to wait for the afternoon train. If I remember right there's a food section in the train station. We can grab a bite there."

Gloria was quick to agree with the promise of food and you two headed off towards the station. To be honest you were looking forward to food too that wasn't bland or dried tasting camping food. You had eaten enough food like that to last you a hundred lifetimes. Without having to wait for Ms. Opal anymore the two of you could walk a little faster now and were easily near the station as you continued to look around for any signs of Raihan but thankfully still found none. When you were stopped by Gloria grabbing onto your sleeve and pointing. You blinked confused at her for a moment before looking to where she was pointing and you couldn't help but stare as well. NO WAY!! Who'd think you'd run into her again while you were here? It was Sonia! Again! She must've just walked from the station because she was coming right towards the both of you, but stopped once she took notice of the familiar sight. The three of you pausing and looking at one another before the redhead smiled and waved.

"Heya!," She greeted once she was close enough, "Fancy running into you here. The badge collecting going well?"

"Sonia!," Gloria happily exclaimed in surprise before nodding proudly. "I don't mean ta brag." She crossed her arms proud of herself. "But I won me two more badges since the last time I saw ya!"

Sonia chuckled at her antics and you asked, "What are you doing back in Hammerlocke?"

She turned her attention to you one hand on her hip. "I've been doing some research on the ruins in Stow-on-Side. The sword and shield. Once Mr. Rose had his team investigate it of course. ..But I still haven't figured out some things. What kind of Pokemon were they? And where are they now?" With a sigh she shook her head. "I still have so many questions. I was thinking about taking another look at the tapestries in-"

BOOM!! Sonia was cut off as what you could only describe as a gunshot from a gun the size of an elephant going off somewhere overhead. The very action made you react immediately by ducking and grabbing the back of your head as your Drizzilie dove behind you in terror at the loud noise and shaking of the ground. Gloria gasped and fell backwards onto her behind and Sonia had jumped back nearly falling over on those heels of hers. Blinking up and totally but understandably SHOCKED at the sensation you had just witnessed. Another boom!? AGAIN!? ....Oh NO!! Was that Bede again!? Was he doing something crazy again!? Other people around you yelling or having a similar reaction to one of you three.

"AGAIN!?," you asked to no one in particular.

"Are you kidding me!?," Sonia shouted herself glaring up towards a particular tower, "What was that!?"

"Do I look like I know?," you mumbled slowly leaning yourself up as Gloria made an attempt to get off the ground.

"Hammerlocke stadium shook...That's where Chairman Rose's power plant is isn't it?" You...nodded. You think so? It's been a while since you've been back here. But there wasn't any time for talking as a buzzing sound eminated from Sonia's pocket. She was quick to scramble, almost dropping the phone in the process, as she pressed the screen in a hurry and the buzzing noise ceased. .....Her blue eyes blinked widely at the screen. "Huh?....A..power spot?"

"Power spot?" You asked confused. "You mean like where you can Dynamax?"

She nodded not looking at you. "That's right. The power spot detector reacts when it's possible to dynamax."

You rose a brow. "Well that makes sense since there's a gym stadium here. You mean Raihan can't use the stadium's spot to dynamax?"

She went to answer but didn't get a chance too. "Usually you don't."

"GAH!!" You jumped in surprise and snapped your head around to the person who scared you...And came face to face with none other than the Champion. Leon chuckled seeing your expression...before you scowled. "HEY! I thought I asked you NOT to do that the last time!"

He chuckled some more before waving a hand. "Sorry, Y/n. Hey Sonia- Oof!" He laughed more and patted the top of Gloria's head as she hugged him beaming. "And you too, Gloria! Wow. You've gotten taller! By the way you felt the shaking right?" She nodded and he hummed before looking at the same tower Sonia had been. "Seems Chairman Rose is testing something again."

"This is bad!," Sonia insisted to him, "Pokemon might start dynamaxing right in the middle of Hammerlocke!"

"Is that so?," he asked looking back to her and she nodded immediately, "I can make sure the Chairman knows."

"You'll just get lost, Leon. I'm coming too."

"Hey. I'm not THAT bad with directions, Sonia. I only ended up on top of a barn once!"

"I'm comin' too!," Gloria piped up determined hands returning to her sides. But that melted away quickly when Leon shook his head no.

"Sorry, Glory," he apologised genuinely and rested a hand on her shoulder," But it'd be too dangerous for someone your age to be wondering about a power plant of all things. Especially since there's lots of research and development happening in there that could end up going south at a moment's notice. Don't worry about a thing and just let me take care of it. Ok?"

She opened her mouth to protest. "He's right." But blinked at you as you frowned worried. "I think with everything that's already happened in the past month, it'd be better to just let the literal pokemon champion and a scientist handle whatever's going on."

She blinked between the two of you for a moment before sighing. "Oh alright."

"So you should leave the investigation on the quaking to the adults," Sonia agreed, "In the mean time why don't you head to Circhester and get that badge? I'm really looking forward to seeing you compete in the finals."

Again Gloria nodded before turning to Leon with a slightly worried expression. "Hey. You're gonna be careful right?"

He smiled brightly in a reassuring way to her. "Of course! I'm always careful!"

"Except with directions." Sonia sighed before beginning to walk away.

"HEY! I'm always careful with directions," he insisted walking after her, "Since when am I not?"

"Says the one who got stranded on top of a barn and fell into the ocean multiple times when going to Hulbury."

"Oh my Arceus. It was just one time!"

You chuckled before shaking your head..but paused noticing Gloria wasn't doing anything but staring after them. She flinched when you put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. Are you alright there?"

After a moment of silence she sighed and nodded before turning back towards the train station. "Yeah. Jus' a lil bit worried is all. Lee can get inta trouble if he ends up lost sometimes." And she began walking. "C'mon. Let's go get somethin' to eat. Ok?''

You blinked at her sad-ish tone but didn't push any further when you started walking behind her towards the train station by the flight of stairs leading to the Hammerlocke school where you two had encountered Paula. Sending a small shiver down your spine as you passed. Eventually you both reached the inside of the train station where you two found exactly what you were looking for. Within the train station was two men and a woman behind stands who looked like they either sold tickets or pamplets, a lot of seats, the exit for entering/exiting the train, some ATM things, vending machines, and to the very left near the entrance when you two came in was the small cafe area with it's own designated seating. A man was already seated at one table looking at what you supposed was a menu, and two very recognizable teenage boys were sat at another talking....HOP AND VICTOR!? Seriously what was the odds of running into so many people today? You tapped Gloria's shoulder to get her attention but Hop beat you too it because as soon as he looked up he smiled and waved his full arm at her.

"Oh! Gloria!," He shouted at her. Like a dog to food her head snapped to him faster than lightning before the brightest smile ever lit up onto her face as Victor turned around in his seat to look at the both of you.

"HOP! Victor!," She cried out before rushing towards them with you trailing behind with your pokemon in tow. "I haven't seen ya in days!"

"Well we- Ah!" Poor Hop was nearly knocked to the floor when Gloria practically tackled him in a hug (again-) and had to wave his arms to regain balance before leaning forward luckily not falling over. "W-We just got here on the afternoon train! Glory! You're crushin' me again!"

"After noon?", you asked before looking up towards the clock on the wall surprised when you saw it read 12: 24 in the afternoon. "Huh. I didn't think we'd get here that late in the day." You then turned back to Victor. "You guys just got back here? We didn't see you at the gyms we stopped by."

Victor shrugged back at you. "We went straight to Bellonlea after Hop won against Bea," He explained, "Then we traveled a bit so Hop could practice his battling skills before we decided to head to Circhester. Hammerlocke was just a stop before we reached there so we stopped here to restock for the weather they have up there. ...And I wanted to stop by to see the Hammerlocke castle ruins on Route Eight. Legends say that they might even be the remains of the very first castle built in Galar."

"Oh. So how was Bellonlea for you two?"

Hop sighed, having freed himself from his best friend's crushing hug, slumping his shoulders. "First that forest then that mad quiz. I've been lost in every sense of the word...But it looks like I finally caught up to you again."

"Does that mean you didn't get the badge?"

He chuckled. "Took me one heck of a try but I managed somehow to get it from her." He turned back to Gloria. "Speaking of which. Come with me to Route Seven real quick.I could use a bit of competition to motivate me for the next leg of our adventure!"

Gloria blinked. "....Our adventure as in yours and Victor's next stop?"

Hop blinked at her a moment before reaching to scratch the back of his neck and looked away. "W-Well...I uh....I've been having a lot of time to think, and i-it would be nice for you to join us again this time....AH! A-And Y/n too of course!" He was quick to add holding up his hands and a slight pink hue coming over his face. "Of course I enjoy her company too! I-It's not the same without y-you both!" Smooth, Hop. Very smooth.

But it seemed like just like with Bede, Hop's flustered state flew right over her head as her eyes lit up as she quickly agreed. "Are ya kiddin' me!? OF COURSE YES!! I missed travelin' with you guys!" She pointed to the door making Victor duck to avoid getting hit in the head. "C'mon let's go see 'bout that battle!"

"Hang on a second!," Victor interjected with a frown, "What about lunch? Hop, y'know we need to stop by the clothes store and get warmer clothes!"

"..I-...Y-Yeah. But we're staying an extra one or two days so you can see those ruins anyways, so we still have time for a battle and food and shopping..and all that stuff."

......With a sigh Victor sat back down in the seat and picked up his menu again. "Fine. But make it quick. I would like us to get supplies before the end of today. The sooner we're all stocked up the sooner we can see the ruins and head off to Circhester."

Gloria was already tugging him out the door as Hop waved him off. "We'll be right back! Don't worry!"

"That's when I worry the most," he mumbled.

You chuckled before going to sit in one of the chairs across from him, Drizzilie hoping onto your lap of course before settling down and letting you wrap an arm around it's upper torso to hold it. "Well, you two certainly looked like you had an exciting time while we were gone."

"Yeah I guess you could say that. ..Hey. Let's just order something for the two of us while we wait." Your Drizzilie gave a thrum. "Uh...Three of us. The three of us order."

"Are you sure? I don't mind waiting for the other two."

"Nah. I'm hungry, and we'll still be here when they come back."

"Well...Alright then.''

You two went ahead and ordered, not really surprising it was more curries, and it wasn't too long before the three plates were set down in front of you three all different. Your drizzilie immediately went to grab at it's saled curry you had ordered for it, but Victor stopped it before pulling out his own camera.

"Wait a minute. Lemme get a shot of these first," he said holding the camera up to his face.

"You're doing that curry dex thing too?," you asked holding your Drizzilie's protesting hands as it pouted being denied it's food even for a moment.

"Nah. I've just been collecting more pictures of curries and pokemon for Glory since she needs them. Plus I like taking pictures anyways, so it's not a big deal."

"Aw. That's really nice of you."

He was quick to take a few pictures of the curries and you released your pokemon's hands. Drizzilie was quick to grab it's own food and begin scarfing it down much to your amusement as you two yourselves dug in. You were happy that it wasn't another bland tasting granola bar thing or dried fruit snack made for traveling. And it wasn't too long when you were into your food that the two had returned and taken seats next to the two of you as well.

"Hey you two," you greeted, "Welcome back. How was the battle?"

Hop was absolutely beaming and Gloria sighed but not in a sad way before saying, "I lost. Hop really has gotten stronger!"

"Hey, congrats!," you smiled at Hop, "I told you you could do it!"

"Hehe. Thanks," he smiled bashfully before pointing towards the food, "Looks like we're just in time to order ourselves huh? Great! We can catch up with everything that happened then!"

Gloria chuckled. "Well then better get a big curry n' some popcorn! Cuz I gotta lot to tell the both 'o ye!"

"Oh boy. Here we go."

You should've expected the shocked faces that they all gave when Gloria between eating her curry(after taking pictures of them of course-) told them everything. And I do mean EVERYTHING. From helping the lad find an applin for his crush, to the strange MAYBE ghost girl that had you all deliver a letter to Mr. Frank, to the weird guy in Bellonlea who thought he was a pokemon, to how you both met Allister, to her gym battles, and of course everything the two of you went through in Stow-on-Side after they left. The two boys looked more shocked than they would've been if you had suddenly disappeared before their very eyes back the way you came and magically ended up back home. You just simply ate letting Gloria ramble on and on and tried to keep your drizzilie was getting food everywhere. You swore it was like trying to feed a toddler in your lap. Eventually sometime between all of this Hop finally spoke with a scowl pointing at everyone.

"I KNEW it! I knew that bloke was up to no good! And look at what happened!"

"Hop, calm down," you insisted holding up a hand, "To be honest I think he only did it because he was pressured by someone and did what he thought was going to help. I don't know why he thought there would be wishing stars under the mural, but he was right about there being something under there. ...And I really don't want to just talk badly of him since he already paid for what he did." You did feel bad for him but in the back of your mind you knew he'd be fine and get back on the right path now. "...But I think Victor said something about stopping by a clothes store. What for?"

"You'll need some too, Y/n," Victor said, "If you don't wanna freeze your leg off that is. Circhester and it's gyms are located in the mountains where it's always cold and snowy. If we're heading there we'll all need to stock up on food for the long trip too since they're the farthest gyms from here."

"Oh. Well I say we finish up here so we can get started then. I don't know how when the stores around here close."

The rest of the stay in Hammerlocke wasn't very eventful thankfully. After the lot of you had finished eating and paid, you left and you followed them all to the clothing store that Hammerlocke had. You weren't expecting them to actually be selling winter clothes but low and behold they were selling them amongst the regular summer shirts and shorts. All of your pants and shirts was pretty long and warm anyways so you only felt the need to find a plain coat and gloves as the others took their time browsing around and tried on various other winter type clothing. But you did find one thing you liked. A small child's sweater that doubled as a hoodie with the hood attached to it. You looked between it and the Drizzilie before taking it and after wrangling your pokemon lightly, slipped it over his head and popped his arms gently through the sleeves. Drizzilie gave a couple chirps in protest and confusion as he was slipped into the sweater-hoodie...before blinking and pulling out the hem of it to look over it. ..And looked at you with a strange look.

"Hey. If you're not going to stay in your pokeball then you're going to need something to keep you warm too."

You were pretty sure a water pokemon without any feathers or fur to cover him wouldn't fair too well in the cold weather. By the time you all paid for the small pile of winter clothes for the five of you and left the store, the sun was close to setting and with your low food supplies without there being any supply stores in Hammerlocke Victor was clever enough to come up with a better idea. Leading the confused group back to the train station, he walked on over to the vending machines in the corner of the room and considering everything in them was already made to last a long time they'd do until you all found another store with better surprises. Sounded good to you...Or it would've been if Gloria hadn't had the bright idea to use her Rotom pokemon. You couldn't believe it but the rotom pokemon actually transferred itself from the phone into one of the machines and one after another cans of soda, chips, instant noodle things, candy bars, and other snack like foods tumbled down one after the other with the lot of you eagerly grabbing at it. When you pointed out wasn't this technically stealing, Gloria assured you the rotom would be using money coming from her Gym Challenger account to pay for this all. Oh...Well you kinda guessed she'd have one of those to be paid after battles and all. By the end of one vending machine being cleaned out Victor mentioned once it was divided between the four of you it SHOULD be enough to at least last you all the trip up to Circhester. That was good to hear. By the time the four of you were finished with your shopping spree, sun set had finally taken a hold of the town and Hop suggested now would probably be a good time to set up came outside Hammerlocke and rest up to take a visit to the ruins Victor wanted to visit the next day. As much as you'd like to go to Circhester right away it was unanimous that the next day you'd be spending your entire day at the ruins.

That night you slept pretty well and by the time you woke up the next day Victor had already cooked everyone breakfast early. By the smile on his face, you'd say he was pretty excited to spend the day at the ruins. After eating breakfast and packing everything up, the four of you made your way down Route Eight. The castle ruins weren't too far down the road from Hammerlocke, just maybe an hour or two's walk. There was some blocked off areas by rope blocking access to some of the more brittle or dangerous areas of the place. And you did enjoy yourself while you looked around too. There was a couple pokemon you hadn't seen while you were traveling before and both twins seemed to get a kick out of taking pictures of either the ruins or the pokemon hiding within them, as you all walked around along with a few other people who seemed to be looking at them as well. The only ones who really seemed bored just standing around and looking at the ruins was your Drizzilie still wearing the sweater hoodie thing you had gotten him yesterday as he grumbled and walked along after you. The ruins were pretty big and decently had a lot to look at so it was no wonder the four of you spent nearly all morning and half the afternoon there looking at it all before Hop suggested heading back towards Hammerlocke in hopes of catching the night train out of town. Sounded good to everyone..Huh. You wondered if Sonia had studied the ruins here for more clues too? It wasn't too late when the group got back to Hammerlocke, maybe three or four o' clock in the afternoon at the lastest, but definately late enough to have missed the evening train out. Of course Hop and Gloria having to show their badges to the man standing guard at the entrance in order to be let in but it wasn't too much of a hassle for you five to head on in and back to the train station. In the entire time you were back here in Hammerlocke you hadn't seen Raihan again even once. You guessed he must've been traveling again or just not here at the moment. Fine by you. You all had a few hours to kill until the night train showed up sometime around eight o' clock. In the next few hours you all busied yourselves by having dinner courtesy of the guys and Victor giving a very happy glory all the pictures he had taken over the days they were seperated. A LOT of curry (when did they eat so much of that stuff-) and pokemon she was delighted to have and then secure into her books along with the newest pictures she took with help from Hop sorting them out and helping to place them within the labeled pages. Which took up most of the rest of the time it took you four to wait for the night train because it took you all by surprise when the sounds of rumbling tracks and a train horn made you all look up as a shiny subway like train pulled up into the station.

"Ah magikarp!," Gloria shouted before dropping her fork and then scrambling to pick up her thing played on the table. "Hop! Help me stuff these things back inta me bag!!"

Hop blinked but immediately did as his friend asked as he too scrambled to grab any leftover pictures and the two books to throw them back in her bag as Victor quickly dug into his pockets for something. Luckily you didn't have the need to pick anything up or collect anything other than the drizzilie sitting in your lap that you scooped up into your arms when the others scrambled to get up, and Victor tossed what looked like a two dollar tip on the table for whoever had to come collect the dishes. The horn blasting again for any passengers who wished to leave Hammerlocke, which you four sure did heading towards it. Looks like you all would be heading to Circhester and hopefully Gloria's next badge on the way.

[weasleywinchester]

Not A Shrine

Eyyy Ohh! First fic for Mr. Marcus Magnet Hands Moreno! I’m excited to jump into this universe because there are just so many ways to go! This fic is mainly banter between (Y/N) and Miracle Guy (Whom I’ve decided to name Murphy Jones). Hope You enjoy! Also this is probably my last fic for the next week as I will be out of state for my birthday!!

Miracle Guy x Reader (New Friends)

Marcus Moreno x Reader (Romantic)

Summary:

You’re a huge fan of Marcus Moreno: leader of the Heroics, sword fighting, ass kicking extraordinaire. You got to see him once after he and Miracle Guy completed a tough mission, capturing your favorite moment between the two. But that was a long time ago when you were just an intern, now you’re part of the team that helps Heroics transition from the spotlight to civilian life. Miracle Guy happens to be on your list, and when your work partner points out your collection of Marcus photos and memorabilia to him, he’s dead set on embarrassing you just a little.

P.S. I think this might will get a part 2, because there’s just not enough Marcus tbh 💙

 “Shannon, I bought coffee, lord knows we’re going to need it.” You set her coffee on the desk, sitting across from her. She squeals in delight, taking a big gulp. She’s not going to tell you she’s already had a red bull, because coffee is just so good. She claps her hands together and takes a deep breath, practically vibrating.

“WOO! Well I’m going over the roster of Heroics, and it looks like a lot of them are ready to start planning, but most are not ready to actually retire.” She hands you a print out of the current full time Heroics. You scan the list, which she has already split between you and her, when you see-

“Miracle Guy?” you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I knnnoooow. I tried already to bring up the planning phase and he’s not budging. I thought you could take a crack at it?” She begs.

“Fine. On one condition.” 

“I already assigned Marcus to you.” She shrugs playfully. Marcus… assigned… to...you? Your mouth goes dry as you gape like a fish.

“(Y/N)... You can do this!” Shannon pounds the table. You’ve had a crush on him longer then Shannon has known you. And he’s been single for a long time, you’ve been single for a long time, you’re both amazing, you just need a nudge.

“The job ya, but… how am I supposed to focus if he’s so close.”

“You don’t have to be nervous, I promise to be nice.”

You turn to see the one and only Miracle Guy himself, one Murphy Jones. He’s got his signature smirk on his face, but otherwise he’s out of costume for once.

“Miracle Guy! What a surprise.” Shannon bubbles, shuffling some papers away.

“Shannon, lovely as always. Ms. (Y/L/N), I’m ready to talk retirement.” He gestures widely with his arms, as if he’s Jesus. You roll your eyes and lead him back to your office, gesturing for him to take a seat as you organize your desk.

“Ok so what exactly did you want to start talking about?” You turn to him, notebook at the ready.

“That I’m not ready to retire, and never will be.” He smiles like he just told you you won the lottery.

“Murphy, Wheels is ready to start taking over the family business. Which means you need to get ready to let go.” You laugh. 

His smile falters a little. Being a Heroic, and in front of the camera, is what he’s always wanted to do. He’s done a lot of amazing work that he’s immensely proud of. And the people of the world love him, he can’t abandon his fans. Although it would be nice to have time to teach Wheels new things, and actually do stuff with his wife.

“This is what I know how to do.” He states, looking at the floor.

“Yes, but now we can move those skills into other areas. Take Marcus for example.” You ignore the eye roll from him, “He’s technically retired from the Heroics central team. But he still works here, using his skills to help the team in the field. Teach, train, and coach from a distance.”

“Well, hooray for him.” 

“Murphy, You can’t physically fight monsters forever. Unless you want Wheels to have one parent. Why don’t we explore options. Marcus chose to observe from the main office, to use his highly trained mind to anticipate and analyze attacks. We could do the same for you.” 

“I don’t do behind the scenes.” He growls. This face? Meant to be in front of a camera, meant to be saving the world crowds at a time.

You hold your hands up in mock surrender.

“Hear me out. Maybe we can have you as a spokesperson. You love doing all the ribbon cuttings, first pitches at baseball games, kissing babies and hugging old people. Work with the image side of the Heroics, the press. You’re a fan favorite! That’s not going to stop anytime soon, and an easy way to do the parts of the job you love, and to lower the chance of immediate death.”

You take a sip of your coffee as you watch him. He’s twiddling his thumbs, trying to nitpick your proposal apart. What he doesn’t know is you’ve been researching possible jobs for him ever since he stormed out of Shannon’s office a month ago. You had talked to the press team, the board and Ms. Granada; everyone thought it was brilliant. 

“Hypothetically, if I agree to this plan, when does it start?”

“It’s just planning for a while. We have to go through everything with a fine tooth comb. There’s no shortcuts, once we establish a plan you are 100 % satisfied with, then the actual transition will start. But since the new generation are still very young, it’ll be a while.” You smile, trying not to look like you won the war.

_______

It’s been about two months since Murphy agreed to your retirement plan. And he’s been in your office at least twice a week, which makes you think he’s just coming to annoy you. Both you and Shannon have a bigger case load than normal, most of the new generation is the same age, so quite a few of the current team are ready to let them take the reins. You’re in the middle of Shark Boy and Lava Girl’s files when Murphy knocks on the door. You open your mouth to tell him to come in but he’s already plopped into the chair across from you.

“Moreno said he’s doing all of his planning via email.” Murphy states, slightly annoyed.

“Well good afternoon to you too.” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“I never got that option.”

“Like you would give up the opportunity to harass me in person.” You laugh, turning back to your paperwork. He frowns at you as your reach to grab something from your bookshelf. He wouldn’t say harass… more like friendly banter. That’s what you two were by now right? Friends?

“Well you’re never going to get him to notice you if you don’t actually meet in person.” He smirks, that should get your full attention.

You read the same line about Shark Boy’s request to be able to swim at the aquarium three times before your brain processes what Murphy just said. 

“What.” You blink, slowly looking up at him.

“You, Moreno, meet.” He claps his hands together, a cheshire grin spreading across his face.

“You talked to Shannon.” You grit your teeth. 

“That, and when she mentioned your shrine...”

“It’s not a shrine.” You clench your jaw. You want to punch Miracle Guy in his miracle face, but it would only hurt you and make him laugh.

“You have a collection of photos, limited edition merch and even a few newspaper clippings about the guy. It’s a shrine.”

“Not a shrine!”

“Anyways, I noticed you didn’t have anything signed by him. So, get him in your office!” Murphy throws his hands in the air, exasperated. You mentioned Marcus constantly, and Murphy can’t stand the guy on a good day. But oh man when the shire was mentioned, that meant he could tease the heck out of you.

“I’m going to kill both of you.” You put your head in your hands, taking a deep breath. You can’t hurt him, it’ll only end badly for you.

“Well that’s a bit harsh. I thought I was an excellent retired Heroic.”

You can hear the smile, but it’s not Murphy talking. You peak from behind your fingers to see Marcus Moreno standing in your doorway. You shift your eyes to Murphy, his stupid smirk on his stupid face.

“Mr. Moreno, I didn’t realize you were coming by.” You smile, sitting up straight. You hope he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating.

“Since when do you call him mister? How come you don’t call me mister?” Murphy says, feigning outrage. He can see the steam shooting out of your ears. Perfect, his suspicions that you had a Class A crush were correct.

“Mr. Jones, our meeting is over.” You answer. He grumbles while he stands; as he passes Marcus  you swear you hear him say, she’s a very big fan.

“Mr. Moreno-”

“Marcus, please.” He smiles, sitting in the chair Murphy just vacated. God, his smile… you could stare at him all day.

“Ok. Marcus, what can I help you with today?” You bring out his file, everything neatly organized and prepared. Unlike all the other files you’re working through, which have sticky notes and scraps of paper that you scrawled on sticking out from every angle.

“I just wanted to make sure everything was still going ok; since I was switched from Shannon’s roster to yours.” Not that he minded. Shannon is great, but something about the way you talk to him over email and the phone is... different. He always wants to keep talking to you, but he’s not sure how to jump from retirement talk to more personal stuff. And then Murphy showed him a super cute picture of you and he felt things he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Oh, uh, ya everything is still on track. Shannon just had some… other cases that became more complex than we originally thought. Plus she’s making me deal with Miracle Guy, so my reward is you.” And you immediately regret the last part. Oh god, now he thinks you’re weird.

“I mean... your plan is pretty much done, so simple case.”

“Good. I guess it helps to get a head start.” He laughs. 

“That it does. I’m also handling Missy’s transition into fill time Heroic, which is also very much on track. Father like daughter.”

He smiles, a far away look in his eyes. He's so proud of her. She’s strong, brave and every bit just like her mother, and him. He’s glad you're helping her, you’ve already helped him so much.

“I’m glad to hear that. Well, I don’t have anything new to add, so...” He stands from his seat, as do you. He wishes he would have stayed seated, asked you about your day or if you wanted to take a walk with him. 

“Uh ya, I’ll let you know if there’s any changes or if I have questions...” You look just past his arm to see both Murphy and Shannon waving their arms like idiots. Shannon is gesturing writing on a piece of paper, and then pointing at Marcus. Murphy is mouthing ‘ask for his number’ while folding his hand into a telephone shape and holding it to his ear. 

“Is there something on my arm?” Marcus looks down, moving his gaze to try and look behind. You quickly grab his bicep, which is very firm, and you both freeze.

“No, just looked like there was a hair, but I don’t think it’s there anymore.” You stammer. He gives you a look, and you realize your hand is still touching him; you quickly let go and gesture to the door. When his back is turned you swat your hand at your friends, telling them to go away.

“I’ll tell Missy you said hello?” He smiles at you.

“Ya, that would be great.” You smile back. He waves and walks down the hall to the elevator. You let out a long breath, going back into your office and collapsing into your chair. “Did you have him sign anything?!” Shannon squeals as Murphy asks “Did you ask for his number?” 

“You two need to stop.” You mumble, rubbing your eyes.

“You literally had him in the palm of your hand.” Murphy snickers as Shannon nods furiously.

“Look, I’m his retirement planner. And he’s probably not looking to date anyone. I’m here to do my job, as a retirement planner.” You shake your head at them both.

They share a look and Shannon goes back to her office. Murphy stays seated, watching you put your belongings in your purse. He was so sure you two would get talking, you drool over Marcus all the time and Marcus actually mentions you a lot. You tend to be the center of conversation between them, which oddly enough has reduced the friction.

You stand, opening the door and gesturing from him to get out. He gets up, silently walking with you until you get to your car.

“I think you two would be good together.” Murphy says to the floor.

You’re not sure what to say. You always thought so, but you also think you’d make a good match with that one guy from Game of Thrones. Also, since when did the great Miracle Guy care about your love life and Marcus Moreno’s?

“That’s really nice of you to think that Murph. But just because I’m ready, doesn’t mean he is.” You give the man a big hug. You always knew there was a kind person under all the swagger; and you’re very happy he’s now a friend.

_______

Two Weeks Later

“Alright. Shark Boy and Lava Girl are about a quarter of the way through their plan. Which is major progress. You said Blinding Fast is still slow going, ha, but that-”

“OOHHH MY GOOODD” Shannon squeals.

“What?” You ask, your blood pressure skyrocketing.

“I am SO PROUD of yooouuu! You finally asked him!” She squeals, clapping her hands together.

“Asked who what?” You scream back. She gives you a look, gesturing to your wall of Marcus behind you. 

“See I told you it would be fine! He probably thinks you’re a bit fangirl-ish, but that’s fine, you are working with him now...” She continues to ramble as you turn around. You scan the wall, your eyes landing on your favorite photo of Marcus and Murphy. It now has the two very recognizable signatures.

“So congrats” she claps again.

“Oo, what are we congratulating (Y/N) on.” Murphy walks in, throwing a smirk at you.

“She finally asked Marcus to sign her favorite picture!” Shannon claps again, her glee very overwhelming at this point.

“I didn’t.” You look between her and Murphy. Shannon frowns, now just as confused as you.

“I did.” Murphy shrugs. Your jaw drops to the floor, you look over at Shannon to see her face mirrors yours.

“I didn’t hear about any fights amongst the Heroics.” You sass. Murphy mocks you in response.

“Well, I guess I should congratulate you then.” Shannon laughs.

“You should.” He winks at Shannon before turning to you, “ I don’t remember that picture being taken. It’s after the spiro monster attack according to our suits.”

“OMG! You never told him the backstory that you repeat all the time?” Shannon howls. You roll your eyes, glancing back at the picture.

“It was my first day as an intern here. I was an intern for the director’s assistant so after the spiro monster mission I was allowed to be in the debrief. You two had taken the mission together, fighting back to back; it was incredible. But you two had sat on the platform while the director was saying what a fine job you two did. I thought to myself fine? They did a kick ass job! Except I said it out loud instead of in my head.”

“I remember that actually.” Murray laughs. 

“The whole day was amazing, filled with moments like that. Back when the team acted like a team.” You smile at the signatures that now decorate the picture, reminding you that friends always have your back.

“How did you even get it out of my office?” You frown, spinning to look at your friends. Shannon immediately drops her gaze, mashing her lips together.

“I had no part, and the piles of paperwork are calling me.” She bows out of the room, leaving you and Murphy alone.

“It did leave its place in the shrine briefly… but I wasn’t sure you would want the original print signed on the front.”

“That’s why Wheels asked for the digital file.” You laugh, he said he needed it for a project the kids were putting together.

“Yes. So That is technically one of three prints.” He takes a folder out of his bag, opening it to reveal a second copy. “I was hoping the artist would sign this one.” He smiles. You grab a marker from your desk, and take the print. You hesitate, you’ve signed plenty of your own art, but Murphy went through the trouble of printing these, just so you could have a signed one. You smile and sign it in a flourish. 

“Will it hang in your house now?” You smirk.

“Actually, ya. And if Marcus is a smart man, it’ll hang in his too.”

“What?”

“I got three printed you dork, one for you, one for me and one for-”

“Marcus.” You smile and shake your head.

_______

Paperwork, it just never ends. You’re up to your eyeballs in it, and you’re not sure when, if, you’ll ever get out. You’re ready to shove all of it into the trash and set it on fire when a gentle knock pulls you out of the stress spiral.

“Hi.” Marcus gives you that super adorable smile.

“Hi.” You smile back.

“I was wondering if I could entice you to dinner.” He nods behind him. Your brain comes to a halt, did he just? He frowns a little when you don’t answer right away, making you realize the screaming yes over and over is only in your head.

“Yes, that would be great.” You laugh, his smile returning. You gently scoop everything back into the folders, and let him guide you to his car. 

________

“Welcome to… I would say the best restaurant around but that’s not true.” He laughs as you pull into his driveway.

“Missy?”

“Is at camp for the week.” He slides out of the drivers side and runs to open your door.

“So what brought this on?” You ask as you reach to take your stuff from him. He waves you off, gesturing for you to walk up the pathway.

“Just decided to branch out my circle of friends, retirement leaves a lot of free time.” He unlocks the door, shuffling you inside. It’s been cleaned, like deep cleaned. There’s not one hint that a tween girl lives here.

“I can see you’ve already utilized the time, pre retirement.” 

He shrugs in response, setting your things down and walking into the kitchen.

“Before you get to watch the master chef cook, I wanted to ask you something.” He leans on the counter across from where you sit. You nod for him to continue. “Will you tell me the story of this picture?” He brings out a folder identical to Murphy’s, opening it to reveal the picture. 

“Of course.”

“And will you sign it for me?” He holds out a marker to you. You take it and quickly sign the photo. He smiles and leans it against the fruit bowl, the two of you looking at it as you recount the story that goes with it. 

And of course you don’t notice, but he’s looking at you, not the picture. If it weren’t for Murphy, out of all people, he wouldn’t have given a thought about anything romantic with you. Granted he’s not sure how ready he is for something romantic. But Missy is gone for a whole week, plenty of time to figure out if his stomach fluttering every time you look his way or say his name is something that is more than a day dream.

[mikauzoran]

Platonic Alyanette/Adrienette/Ladrien: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Five

Read it on AO3: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Five: Horrifying Realization

Marinette looked up from her sewing machine and noted that Alya was still glaring at a mostly blank page on her laptop screen, her cursor blinking tauntingly much where it had been fifteen minutes ago when Marinette had last checked on her brooding companion.

“Everything okay?” she tentatively called to her best friend. “You don’t look like you’re making much progress on that article.”

Alya growled softly, sinking back into the cushion of Marinette’s chaise longue and gripping her hair with both hands at the roots. “Ugh. I just can’t focus right now.”

Marinette spun around in her chair to face Alya and give her her undivided attention. She arched an eyebrow concernedly as she inquired, “Anything in particular on your mind? You seem kind of irritated. If you need to vent, I’m all ears.”

Alya blew out a sigh and sat back up, gently closing her laptop and setting it aside. “I’m just…baffled, and, you know me, I can’t stand a mystery that resists solving.”

Marinette cocked her head to the side, intrigued. “What kind of mystery are you trying to crack?”

Alya bit her lip, hesitating, not wanting to tip her hand. She shook her head and waved dismissively in an attempt to minimize the significance of the problem to Marinette. “Oh, it’s just something I’m investigating. It’s driving me nuts because…has Adrien made you watch Kurosawa’s Rashomon?”

Marinette pursed her lips and wrinkled her brow as she silently repeated the film’s title to herself, trying to summon up some recollection. “Maybe? Sorry. Which one is that again? He always refers to them by their original Japanese titles, so sometimes they kind of blur together in my head.”

Alya smiled affectionately, explaining, “It’s the one where the characters all give their accounts of the same events, but their stories are all different and contradict one another.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Oooooh. Yeah. Is that the one where the guy takes home the abandoned baby at the end?”

The smile melted off of Alya’s face, turning down into a frown. “That’s the part you remember?”

Marinette shrugged simply. “That’s the most important part of the film, isn’t it? After watching the ugly sides of humanity portrayed in the rest of the film, the guy taking the baby home is something that inspires hope for the future. I really liked that.”

“Huh,” Alya replied thoughtfully, seeing Marinette’s point. “I mean, yeah,” she chuckled. “I guess you’re right.”

Marinette nodded, a self-satisfied grin just peeking out of the side of her mouth. “Of course I’m right. Adrien really likes that part too.”

“Nino likes the cinematography,” Alya snickered. “After Adrien showed it to him, he went on and on and on about the camera angles for three solid weeks.”

“Typical Nino,” Marinette laughed fondly. “So…what does the movie have to do with your investigation?”

Alya sighed as the frustration came rushing back. “The people I’ve interviewed’s stories aren’t lining up. They can’t possibly both be telling the truth, and yet, I don’t think either of them is lying to me. At least, they don’t seem to think that they’re lying, so…I just don’t know what to think, Marinette, and it’s making me want to scream. I’m going to figure this out,” she asserted, fire behind the declaration. “I am fueled by sheer annoyance!”

Marinette nodded encouragingly. “You’ll get it eventually. I’ve never known anything to be able to stop you once you set your mind to something, so I’m not holding out hope that this mystery will stand a chance against you for long.”

“You better believe it,” Alya snorted and then took a deep, cleansing breath so that she could appear to switch topics. “…So…”

Marinette’s head tipped to the right. “…Soooo?”

“Bear with me,” Alya requested, “but I just had movie night with Adrien, and we were talking about some things.”

Marinette shifted uncomfortably, eyeing her friend warily. “What is it?”

“I was just wondering…have you interacted much with Adrien as Ladybug?” Alya put it out there and then held her breath, eager for the results that would crack her case wide open.

Marinette blinked in surprise and then seemed to consider, searching her memories.

Alya frowned slightly.

Adrien had said that he and Ladybug interacted regularly, that they often had conversations and hung out, that they were close. If that were true, it wouldn’t be taking Marinette this long to come up with an answer…unless she was hiding something from Alya. But why would she do that now that her identity as Ladybug was no longer a secret?

“No,” Marinette finally answered. “Not really. I mean, no more so than any other Parisian who gets caught up in the akuma attacks as much as he does.”

“So…you two haven’t, like, had any lifechanging heart-to-heart talks?” Alya verified.

Marinette gave her a strange look. “Nope. When I’m transformed, I have a job to do. We’ve made chitchat while I’ve carried him to safety from time to time, but I don’t recall anything revolutionary or earthshattering ever being discussed. I think I would know if I’d reached that kind of romantic checkpoint with my crush.”

“Well, you have as Marinette,” Alya reminded encouragingly.

Marinette deflated, head dropping to her chest as she moaned, “Yeah, after a year of acting like a complete idiot in front of him.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “He thinks you’re adorable.”

Marinette scoffed, just as Alya had anticipated she would, and looked up. “Why are you asking about Ladybug and Adrien, Alya?”

Alya shrugged, playing it off casually as she switched the cross of her legs. “So, you don’t ever use your superpowers to go visit civilians and befriend them?”

Marinette gaped at Alya as if she suspected that her friend might be going insane. “No? How irresponsible would that be? If Papillon ever found out that Ladybug visited civilians, he would target them. I would never take that risk,” she stressed.

Alya quirked an eyebrow. “And yet, didn’t you tell me the other day that Chat Noir has been coming to visit Marinette for years now?”

Marinette averted her eyes, a soft blush flooding her cheeks. “That’s different.”

“How so?” Alya chortled. “Because you like it when the guy you love comes to woo your civilian self?”

“Because he’s lonely,” Marinette answered defensively. “I can go out as Marinette pretty much whenever I want and interact with whomever I want, but it’s not like that for Chat Noir.”

Alya’s grin faltered. “It’s not?”

Marinette shook her head vehemently. “Don’t breathe a word of what I’m about to say to anyone, but he has a really restrictive homelife.”

Alya’s eyes widened in surprise, and she leaned forward. “He does?”

Marinette sighed ruefully, “His mother died a while ago, and his father has been a really controlling jerk since then. He reminds me of Adrien’s father, actually, so imagine Gabriel Agreste, but, like, three times worse.”

Alya winced in sympathy. She knew how bad Gabriel Agreste could be to Adrien. She didn’t want to imagine worse neglect and abuse than that.

“So you see why it’s a different matter entirely for Chat Noir to use his Miraculous to get out of the house and go interact with other humans,” Marinette summarized, with a decisive nod.

Alya’s lips rounded into a pensive “O” as she took stock of this information. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense…. So…Ladybug doesn’t have any civilian friends?”

Marinette pursed her lips. “Civilian acquaintances, yes. Chat Noir and I get ice cream sometimes with Monsieur Ramier after he gets akumatized, but I wouldn’t consider us ‘friends’. Just friendly acquaintances.”

Alya nodded, trying to assimilate the additional facts she had gained.

So far, Adrien’s story was falling through, but Alya couldn’t bring herself to throw doubt on him yet. He’d been far too adamant about being close to Ladybug, about it not being a celebrity crush because he’d been on the receiving end of that much of his life and knew how horrible it could be.

Alya couldn’t make herself believe that Adrien was just delusional. There had to be something there.

“So…keep humoring me, but has Adrien ever told you he loves you?” Alya moved on, digging deeper.

Marinette gave her a bland, unimpressed look. “You mean other than in my dreams? No, Alya. What the heck is up with all the bizarre questions?”

“The why isn’t important,” Alya insisted with authority. “Just roll with it. I’m coming up with new tactics to get you and Adrien together.”

Marinette’s eyebrows slowly came together into a “V” of confusion. “But I decided to give up on Adrien.”

“Yeah, but if you change your mind, I’ve got it covered,” Alya explained, not convincing Marinette. “So Adrien’s never confessed his love for you?”

Marinette gave a longsuffering sigh. “Only to tell me what a great friend I am and how much he treasures my friendship.”

“Be nice,” Alya chided. “Friendship is a heck of a big deal to him. All he had was Chloé for thirteen years.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marinette grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “It just stings to get passively rejected like that over and over.”

“I know, Girl,” Alya cooed sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you want, but try to take solace in how important being his friend makes you to him.”

“I know.” Marinette clicked her tongue in frustration. “I’m just sick of trying to make the best of things and looking on the bright side and taking the high road.”

“I get it,” Alya assured, “but I think we can still get you where you want to be.”

Marinette gave her a skeptical look. “Oh, yeah? How…if we overlook for a minute that I’m giving up on Adrien?”

“Has anyone ever confessed their love for you as Ladybug?” Alya tried a different route, trying to root out the truth.

Marinette sank petulantly in her desk chair. “Yeah, like, everyone and their dog. Ladybug is pretty universally loved.”

“No, like, seriously,” Alya clarified. “For real. Not just some crazy fan. Is there someone who actually loves Ladybug?”

Marinette almost replied automatically but then paused and considered. “I mean…if you’re asking about a civilian who loves Ladybug, then, no…but…there’s Chat Noir. I know that’s probably not what you mean, but…”

The gears in Alya’s mind caught on a snag and abruptly stopped, unable to keep turning as she came to an alarming solution that she wished she could dismiss out of hand.

She gulped, took a deep breath, and carefully inquired, “In the beginning, did you think Chat Noir was just joking when he told you he loved you?”

Marinette groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “Yeees. I know I’m the worst, but he was so over-the-top that I couldn’t take him seriously. It wasn’t until Glaciator when Chat Noir showed up on my balcony feeling all heartbroken over Ladybug that I realized that he was actually for real, and I felt awful, Alya.”

“But then you two talked and got things straightened out,” Alya added breathlessly, in a state of shock as she recalled what Adrien had told her.

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed, dropping her hands to her lap. “I still felt really bad for not returning his feelings, though, but I explained about how my heart was with someone else because I was pursuing Adrien at that point, so…”

Suddenly, things made too much sense, and Alya wished that they would stop because the solution she’d come to was just too ridiculous.

If Ladybug had been turning down Chat Noir because Marinette was in love with Adrien who was in love with Ladybug who was Marinette who loved Adrien who was Chat Noir…Alya was going to scream and pull her hair out and eat Nino’s hat or something.

Marinette jumped as Alya let out an involuntary curse. “W-What? What happened? What’s wrong?”

Alya cursed again, louder and more indignantly.

“Alya, what?” Marinette demanded. “You’re freaking me out.”

“Give me a minute,” Alya groaned, picking up the pillow on Marinette’s chaise and pressing it to her face, yelling into it.

Marinette sat staring at her best friend, utterly perplexed and not a small bit concerned.

Alya lowered the pillow about half a minute later, took a deep breath, and explained, “My life is dumb. Everything is so stupid and dumb, and my life’s work has no meaning because secret identities are infuriating.”

Marinette blinked uncomprehendingly. “Alya…are you okay?”

“No,” Alya replied calmly. “But you know what?”

“What?” Marinette played along, hoping that things would start making sense soon.

“It’s going to be okay,” Alya assured, fueled by a new sense of determination. “I’m going to fix everything, and it’s going to be fine.”

“Oh. That’s good,” Marinette replied, not so sure.

“New plan,” Alya announced, clapping her hands as she got to her feet and went over to Marinette, gently pulling the other girl up to standing and placing her hands on a very confused Marinette’s shoulders. “Step one. We need to make things right between you and Chat Noir.”

Marinette’s brow scrunched up, eyes narrowing. “Between Marinette and Chat Noir or Ladybug and Chat Noir? Because everything’s fine between us, Alya. Our partnership is great. Our friendship is great. Everything’s great. No fixing necessary.”

“Wrong,” Alya countered, pinning Marinette to the spot with an intense gaze.

Marinette saw the drive in Alya’s eyes and knew better than to argue.

“Girl, I know you told Chat Noir that there was someone else and that nothing was going to happen between you two, but your words and your actions aren’t lining up.”

Marinette’s frown deepened, shifting from confusion to apprehension. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve unintentionally been leading the poor boy on for years now,” Alya explained patiently yet decidedly. “You’re really bad at hiding your feelings, Marinette. The only reason Adrien doesn’t know is because his father kept him locked up the first thirteen years of his life, so he has zero understanding of social cues. You may have told Chat Noir that nothing was going to happen, but your actions have been hinting at the fact that you have feelings for him, so he’s been stuck in this loop of you telling him no with your words but then turning around and telling him maybe with your actions.”

Marinette’s face blanched in horror as she thought of her behavior around Chat Noir. Part of her wanted to tell Alya that she was off base, but a larger part knew that what Alya was saying rang true.

She had told Chat Noir in no uncertain terms that there was someone else and that they could only be partners and friends, but…there was the platonic flirting, just to start with. It had only been platonic for a short while. After Marinette had started to reciprocate Chat’s feelings, the flirting had ceased to be in jest. She hadn’t told Chat that she was serious, but…maybe there was a part of him that could tell.

And then there was the way she was so handsy with him. It was true that friends could be physically affectionate without there having to be romantic feelings, but…the hugs and the snuggling on rooftops and the casual touches…it had meant something to her, and she knew it had meant something to him. The only thing was that he hadn’t known what she was feeling, but…what if Alya was right and he had picked up on her romantic interest in him?

What if she’d unknowingly been giving him false hope all this time? It had never been her intention to lead him on. She wanted him to find someone to love him, find someone who made him happy. What if he’d pushed pause on all of that while waiting for her?

She felt sick, thinking that she’d been keeping him waiting, keeping him trapped because she knew he would wait forever for her if she gave him the slightest sliver of hope.

It was Marinette’s turn to curse loudly.

“Yeah,” Alya sighed in agreement.

“Alya, what do I do?!” Marinette demanded, gripping her friend by the arms, beginning to freak out.

“Deep breath,” Alya coached, inhaling and exhaling slowly so that Marinette could follow along.

They repeated the process several times until Marinette had markedly calmed down.

“Okay. Now what?” Marinette urged. “How do I fix this?”

“Call him,” Alya instructed. “Right now. Transform and call him and ask him to meet, and then come clean. Tell him what you told me the other day about how you love him, but it can’t happen because of your duty to Paris and the Guardian thing and the other guy you’re in love with and all that. Be honest with him and tell him you want him to give other people in his life a chance because you want him to be happy. Encourage him to move on. Give him the closure he needs, so he’ll know once and for all that nothing is happening between you two.”

Marinette blinked owlishly. “You want me to call him right now?”

Alya nodded. “Did I stutter? ‘Right now’ means right now, so hop to it. Put your spots on, call your cat-boy, and get this sorted out.”

“Like…right now?” Marinette gulped.

Alya stepped back, crossing her arms in disapproval as she gave Marinette a look that clearly begged the question, “Seriously?”

“I’m just…not prepared,” Marinette tried to finagle. “Usually, before I try to confess my feelings to Adrien, I come up with a plan and a script, so I’m prepared. Tikki and I practice roleplaying, and I memorize my lines, and—”

“—And that never works,” Alya cut in, not taking no for an answer.

Adrien had waited long enough. It was time Ladybug let him off the hook so that he could move on and be happy with Marinette.

Marinette’s shoulders rose up to meet her ears as she grumbled, “You never know. It might one of these days.”

“Tikki,” Alya called out for backup, “could you please tell her to get her butt in gear already? She’s stalling.”

“Tikki,” Marinette whined, “Alya’s being brutally honest, and I don’t like it.”

The kwami gave a soft, affectionate sigh as she flew down from her perch and nuzzled Marinette’s cheek. “I know you don’t think you’re ready, Marinette, but, if you wait until you do feel ready, you may never tell him how you feel at all. Maybe extemporaneous speaking would be good for you,” she encouraged, ever the optimist and cheerleader.

Marinette looked almost persuaded, but a hint of doubt remained, pinched between her eyebrows.

“After all,” Tikki continued, “do you really want to keep Chat Noir dangling in the dark for any longer than you already have? It has been six years since you realized you had feelings for him, Marinette. I think it would be best to tell him sooner rather than later.”

“Oh, all right,” Marinette sighed, sinking back down into her desk chair. “You two win. I’ll call him and figure out what to tell him on the fly. Tikki, transform me.”

[misssophiachase]

For Klaroline AU Week: Day 1 - All Human. This is a continuation of my story, you can read chapter one (Meet the Mikaelsons) and chapter two (Creative Control) HERE

Synopsis: Caroline is the long-suffering producer on America’s number one reality television program “Meet the Mikaelsons.” The wealthy, English family are difficult but Caroline has to stick it out so she can get the promotion she’s been eyeing. Enter arrogant, second-eldest sibling Klaus Mikaelson who has every intention of messing with her plans. Inspired by Keeping Up With the Kardashians.

Reality Bites - Chapter 3: Doctor Feelgood

Flight AA372 - LAX to Los Cabos International

“You should probably put your tray table back in its upright position for take-off,” Caroline’s eyes were closed but the instant she heard the familiar English accent, they flew open. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I assume you’re not going to bother with the tray table then?” He gestured to it curiously. She rolled her eyes and snapped it back into place, almost breaking it in the process. 

“You didn’t answer my question, Mikaelson?” 


“You’re making a scene, love,” he whispered, looking around the airplane. 

Caroline realised he had a point. She was so used to being able to yell at him on set without prying eyes, she forgot about unwanted, public attention to one of the newest reality stars on television. 

“What are you doing here?” She whispered. 

“I’m in the window seat,” he motioned next to her. 

“You are not.”

“Would you like to see my boarding pass?”

Caroline really couldn’t believe her luck. It was as if Klaus Mikaelson’s job in life was to gradually tip her over the edge.

She stood up, moving slightly so he could pass. As he did, his body grazed hers and Caroline was trying to ignore just how good and right it felt. It didn’t help that his spicy aftershave was infiltrating her nostrils and messing with her composure either. 

“Since when do you travel coach?” She hissed as soon as he’d sat down. 

“Since always.”

“Liar,” she shot back. 

“Fine,” he conceded. “I didn’t want to be stuck on a private jet with my siblings, I’d probably be tempted to throw one, if not all of them, out of the plane without a parachute.”

“Kol, would be the first to go, right?” she couldn’t help herself. 

“There would never be a question about that,” he grinned. 

As much as she wanted to hate him, they’d have these fleeting moments where she wasn’t a producer and he wasn’t rich, reality television royalty. They were just two people enjoying each other’s company. Unfortunately, it never lasted past about five minutes. 

“So, how is it that you are on the exact same flight as me?”

“You don’t own this flight you realise, Forbes?’


“Fine, how did you come to be sitting right next to me then?”

“As co-producers I thought it would be useful, you know in case we needed to discuss anything before arrival,” he murmured. 

“You’re going to crash your ex-girlfriend’s wedding,” she replied. “I think we’re all on the same page about that. You know unless you’re getting cold feet?”

“Why? Are you?”

Caroline was taken aback by his comment and the way he was gazing intensely into her eyes at the same time. There was no denying he was extremely attractive, and those dimples had a mind of their own, but Caroline had to keep reminding herself that he was an egotistical, arrogant celebrity that she wouldn’t be in her life much longer.

For some reason she didn’t like thinking that. Caroline decided to blame it on temporary insanity and his ability to insert himself into every part of her life.

“Why would I be getting cold feet? We’ve only been planning this for the past week.” 

Caroline thought planning this plot line would be just like everything else but for some reason it had irked her more than anything.

Hayley Marshall was a doe-eyed brunette who was the face of an International Cosmetics Company. They had dated on and off during college. Klaus acted like she didn’t mean much to him but the fact he wanted to crash her wedding and instigated the trip to Mexico didn’t sit well with Caroline, although she wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe there were more unresolved feelings between them than he’d let on. 

“Of course,” he murmured. “I just meant we need to discuss our accommodation arrangements.”

“Our accommodation arrangements?”

“You have this thing about repeating yourself, has anyone ever told you that?”

“And has anyone ever told you that you have this annoying habit of not answering questions, mine in particular?”

“Touché,” he smirked. “I thought it best that we stay together the next few days.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I think you heard me.”

“Klaus!”

Given the amount of crew, not to mention privacy required they had booked out multiple private villas on a secluded beach. Caroline had her assistant book her at a resort which was only ten minutes away by foot. 

“I’m not enamoured about staying in the family villa, there’s only so much I can take from Rebekah preening in front of the mirror and Kol singing off- key in the shower.”

“You have your own villa, princess,” she muttered. 

“And it boasts two very spacious bedrooms,” he murmured. “It seems fitting that we stay there together, you know for work.”

“I cannot believe you,” she growled. “First you take half my job and now you’re making accommodation arrangements? I have a perfectly good room booked at the nearby hotel.”

“Well, you did,” he offered. “I had your assistant cancel it.”

“You did what?”

“And given it’s peak season I think you’ll find it difficult to book anywhere else at this short notice.”

“You are unbelievable!”

“As you keep telling me,” he murmured.

“What is going on here?”

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“Yes, you do,” she shot back. “Why are you suddenly so clingy?”

“Okay, just so you know, Klaus Mikaelson doesn’t do clingy.” 

Now that Caroline was thinking about it. Klaus had been acting even stranger than usual the past few days. He’d become less adversarial and more inquisitive. Less arrogant and a little more insecure. Which was completely out of character. 

Then it came to her. 

4 days earlier

“What do you mean you fired the medic?” Caroline hissed, trying to keep her voice down and not alert the rest of the crew. 

“I didn’t fire the medic,” he shot back. “She quit yesterday. Apparently, she didn’t appreciate Kol’s attempts to woo her.”

“Woo her? Who are you?” She muttered. “And you only felt the need to tell me this today?”

“Well, I’m sorry but I’ve been busy wrangling my siblings from almost killing each other. Whoever thought tennis racquets weren’t a lethal weapon never met my family.”

“Welcome to my world,” she growled under her breath. If Klaus wanted to be co-producer, then he could deal with his sibling’s antics too. 

The Mikaelsons were holding their annual mother-son tennis competition. It had begun when Finn was younger and had become one of the main events on their social calendar.

This year, it was Henrik’s turn to be initiated into the tradition. Given Esther’s competitive nature, Caroline felt immediately bad for him. It didn’t help that her sworn enemy, Macy Roberts, one of the famed Housewives of Beverly Hills, was competing with her son too.

Turns out giving two society queens tennis racquets wasn’t the brightest idea, even if it did make for good television. They’d yelled cut as soon as the obligatory cursing had died down but turns out there was no medic to check their injuries.

Macy seemed to have only sustained some bruising, but Esther hadn’t fared as well.

“It’s bloody broken, I know it!” Esther wailed. “I need some Oxy-Contin, straight vodka on the rocks and my lipstick touched up, not necessarily in that order.”

“See, she doesn’t even need a medic,” Klaus shrugged his shoulders. 

“You are unbelievable.”

“You really need to stop complimenting me, love,” he smirked. Caroline was far too stressed then to call him out on that stray endearment. 

“I can help,” Kol offered. 

“Where’s your medical degree?” Klaus asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I dated this girl once, a med student, she used to practice on me by…”

“Please don’t go any further,” Caroline groaned, trying to work out whether it was in their best interests to take Esther to hospital given all the unnecessary interest it would attract, especially given how she came to be injured. They didn’t sign non-disclosure agreements for no reason. 

They needed something more discreet. Then an idea came to her. 

One hour later

The bell rang out and Caroline rushed to the front door. Opening the door, she immediately smiled; he always had that effect on her. 

“Why do I always seem to be bailing you out, Care Bear?” 

“Just lucky I guess,” she grinned. “And what have I told you about not calling me that.” He dropped his bag and she jumped into his arms, excited to see him after all this time.

“Not to do it,” he teased, putting her back on the ground. 

“Care Bear? I’ll have to add that to my repertoire,” Klaus chuckled. Caroline fought the urge to roll her eyes, of course he was eavesdropping. “Who is this?”

Caroline pulled back, annoyed that yet again her annoying co-producer had interrupted. 

“Klaus Mikaelson, this is Enzo St John,” she introduced the two. “Our medic for the afternoon.”

“How do you know each other?” 

“Enzo is my best friend Kat’s cousin, we grew up together, well until he decided to leave the country on us.”

“Duty called,” he smiled. 

“Enzo decided to go and join Médecins Sans Frontières.”

“Doctors without Borders?” Klaus asked, his tone telling Caroline he was clearly impressed but was trying to play it down. 

“I’ve been in Burkina Faso most recently,” he explained. “But came home for some downtime, see what my cousin has been up to and of course to save Caroline, yet again.”

“It was once and you know how handsy my prom date was,” she said. 

“It was my pleasure to punch him out,” he smiled. “How is Stefan Salvatore doing these days?”

“I have no idea and don’t care,” she muttered. Klaus coughed interrupting their chat. 

“Well, maybe it’s best we get to the patient?”

“Can someone please give mother a gag? She is howling like a banshee,” Rebekah muttered, walking into the room. “And who do we have here?”

“I’m Enzo,” he introduced curtly. “I assume I’ll be taking care of the banshee?” 

“It’s only funny when I say it,” she drawled, sizing him up. Caroline could sense the tension from a mile off but she wasn’t sure whether they wanted to kill each other or rub up against each other. 

“Right on that note,” Caroline interrupted awkwardly. “Let’s go outside, shall we?”

“Why do I feel like I’ve entered the twilight zone?” he asked as she led him toward the tennis courts.

“Because you have,” she murmured, attempting not to laugh aloud. 

Enzo was an instant hit with Esther, no doubt due to his nationality, good looks and charm which he possessed in spades. 

She also decided that he needed to come to Mexico and play medic. Klaus and Rebekah thought otherwise and had tried to change her mind but being the matriarch of the brood, they all knew it was pointless.

Caroline had a feeling it wasn’t too much of a hard sell after what he’d come from. Although Caroline wasn’t quite sure he was ready for this type of jungle. 

“This is about Enzo,” she drawled. 

“Excuse me?”

“Now who’s asking the questions,” she huffed. “You don’t want me staying at the same hotel as him in Mexico.” 

They’d arranged their travel together, Caroline hoping to get some downtime to chat with one of her oldest friends. There had never been anything between them, their relationship was strictly platonic.

Also, Enzo loved himself too much to love anyone else but obviously Klaus didn’t know that. 

Caroline put it down to the fact Klaus was determined to ruin her life for whatever reason she had no idea. 

“That is so not true,” he growled. 

“Why don’t you tell me the truth for once, Mikaelson? I’m growing incredibly tired of this arrogant bluster.”

“Says the woman who uses insults as a defence mechanism?”

“Are we interrupting something?” Caroline looked up into the warm, brown eyes of Enzo. 

“Not at all, in fact we were just talking about how excited Klaus is to have you along for the trip,” she smiled, nudging Klaus in the ribs as she said it. “Hold on, what do you mean we?”

“You can’t go to Mexico and take my cousin with you and not expect a few extra guests, Care.” Katherine and Bonnie stood there, bags in hand. 

“You did say there were two bedrooms, right?” She asked Klaus sweetly, happy that she’d beaten him at his own game this time, or so she thought. 

You can read this chapter and follow the story HERE or HERE

[tarasharmashow]

A v Happy New Year blog post and some ponderings on getting to know ourselves & our own priorities and paths & not comparing & competing in races that may not be ours’..Chill Be Happy & Each to their Own Do write in with any comments & apologies for the ramble haaha

Most often I spend about 3 months saying #HappyNewYear and then another few months questioning how is it already so many months in! In an attempt to keep wishes time sensitive and relevant I’m writing this post. Good health for us all forever and being humble, good, happy, empathetic, kind and successful people touch wood:) continue to be a line up of wishes. The list goes on, but I am trying to keep this brief as if you have been following my blog for the last 10 years or so of it’s existence you will know consistency is kinda my middle name and there is perhaps little difference in the values I hold dear and the wishes each year. 

Now that that’s out the way, how are you? How has the extended lockdown treated you or rather how have you adjusted to it? Not sure how one comments on here but if you figure it out please do write in. Never sure if there are readers on here or if this is an exercise of thinking aloud and writing to oneself haaha. Either way it is therapeutic. 

We are fine touch wood:). I assume you would have asked a question warranting that response if we were conversing face to face, hence I took the liberty of replying un prompted. Our new normal, as everyone describes it, has made virtual conversations the norm and going a step further anticipating the flow of a chat seems plausible.

I say this often on my lives, so if you follow those, apologies for the repetition, but for those who haven’t heard my mantra, here goes. Deep prayers and thoughts for those who have been directly affected by #covid. We all hope it goes and the good parts of normal resume touch wood:). But I also do see the silver linings that this time has brought for many. Bonding with family, reassessing priorities, focusing on things that really matter, appreciating nature, to name a few. With that comes often subconscious frustrations and perhaps some angst at what sometimes feels like a pausing of time. 

I for one, feel grateful for a lot. And almost in parallel I sometimes feel useless. Almost like a pendulum I find myself often oscillating between feeling great contentment and thankfulness for us all being healthy and together as a family and having created work, that enables us to work from home and earn and be with each other touch wood:), and then almost like Jekyll and Hyde emotions switch to self doubt and questioning if I shouldn’t be out acting more and doing bigger work things and earning more etc etc etc. Comparing myself to colleagues or random strangers that social media shows me. Once the wave of doubt flows, almost instantly I reprimand my mind for being so ridiculous and self pitying and I swing back to optimism, positivity and a few #YogaWithTara sessions, to re group and get back to my trademark optimistic self. Do not compare yourself to anyone else. Each to their own. Success and priorities are different for different people. Having a loving family and us all being together, healthy and happy with a good dose of work ambition to earn enough to be happy and comfortable and help those we are able to touch wood:), are values my rational side reminds me, are most important to me. Not climbing a comparative ladder whether in entertainment or business, but being aware that each of our paths are different and unique. And being happy, grateful and content in that awareness.

All the lives I do have perhaps made me more of a philosopher than I already was. Ponderer rather. As most of those are in the visual medium where I have the ability to interact real time with viewer comments rolling in, often helping me shape my often dichotomous thoughts. Apologies if translating those conversations to the written word, have turned this into a bit of a ramble, but I do find tremendous joy in writing, even if sporadically, and not very well.

Thank you. I have been helped greatly in lockdown and always, by my social media audiences. Whether reading this or not, whether listening or not, whether appreciative of my content, or not, you all have often given me the platform that back in the day, a person like me, may not have had. I am not a big shot actress and not a big corporate person, but a sort of mix of actor, entrepreneur, a devoted Mum, creator, yogi, fitness enthusiast, ponderer and more, trying to create and find ways to work and earn and stay relevant while being with my family. Your kind words and encouragement along the way, have always helped me, so thank you. And know that you are all super special in your own way. And your unique paths are just as important as anyone else’s.

I have been grateful to have received an offer to act in something and this post was sort of triggered by the games my mind was playing in trying to make the decision about how to respond to the potential offer. Would I be okay filming for 12 hours a day, away from home, although fortunately this one would be in the same city. With Covid cases much lower and hopefully covid on it’s way out and us all fine forever touch wood:), but still a need to stay safe, would I be ok going to a set with lots of people each day? If the money is good, is it worth sucking it up and doing it? I want to act more but the luxury of creating and co producing my own show for the last decade and working on my own terms creating what I like to believe is quality content which may not have a huge mass audience but does seem to have a loyal, engaged high quality one that respects the quality of our content #TheTaraSharmaShow and more. Is it time to create Season 6? Hunt and pitch to sponsors and try and woo more inspiring guests? It is hard to make it, as any good work often is. Or should I create that new fiction show I have been writing? Should I push myself and give myself the boost of confidence that has perhaps been holding me back? 

Sorry to be thinking aloud. Other parents out there probably have similarly divergent thoughts.. Cliched as it sounds, balancing it all is often not just hard but a lesson in learning who you are and what our priorities really are. I think for me creating work around my family was perhaps the main inspiration of my starting my show all that time ago, and yes unless an amazing role in an amazing film or show, perhaps I am actually content with the pace of work I have. Jobs come and go. Money and practicality are no doubt important, but the metric of valuing what matters most is often intangible, and only you know what that is for yourself. So I guess this post is about wishing us all and also saying chill, don’t stress, know yourself, do what’s right for you and your family and don’t compete in a race that’s not one you want to be in, but question, ask, ponder and create or choose your own path! 

Have a super day all and stay safe. Tarataratara!!

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

Superior is INDEFENCIBLE Part 2: Odds and Ends

Part 1

As a little follow up to this post I want to wrap up some defences I have encountered for both Superior #2 and the Superior storyline in general.

To start with we have more hypocrisy from the man I once admired as he tried to defend his position on Superior.

He was challenged on his primary argument that Peter and MJ’s separation justified her obliviousness now that they are back together; for further details see the above linked post.

In response to this challenge he said:

“I think there is more to my argument then "They've lived apart for a year" and her relationship with him during that time doesn't have to hold relevance to their relationship after being apart.”

Like…this guy was for fucking real.

OF COURSE their relationship back then is going to hold relevance to their relationship after being apart.

Obviously with the benefit of hindsight Nick Spencer’s run proves this to be the case. And you can refer back to my prior post where I dive deeper into the topic.

However, in that post I was talking about the specific nuances of Peter and MJ’s relationship.

What’s mind boggling is that in the above quote he’s making an even bigger reach. Jesus Christ OF COURSE their past relationship is going to hold relevance for their then-current one.

That’s how relationships work!

FFS, romantic or otherwise everyone’s relationship with everyon else is shaped by the past. This is like arguing Peter hating Norman for killing Gwen Stacy doesn’t have to be relevant to their relationship after his return to the Clone Saga.

I mean shit dude, Peter’s high school romance with Betty Brant was relevant to their romance after he graduated college!

This is how all types of relationships work. You don’t just jump in after awhile, start fresh and then nothing from the past has any bearing on the present. Even in the most positive of scenarios the fact that you are getting together again  would still be shaped by the fact that you liked each other in the first place.

And for the life experiences those two shared that’d go a thousand fold.

Now let’s move on to some over miscellaneous comments sent to me a  looooooooooooong time ago.

I’ve had this stuff in my drafts for years! 

For the sake of catharsis I’ve decided to clear it out. It revolves around Superior Spider-Man and the comments I’m responding to were made before the original volume ended in 2014.

“Rob Wrecks wrote:Why would Aunt May even react to it? She doesn't even know the identity of Spidey now.”

In Civil War she was able to tell that the Chameleon, a MASTER of disguise who was being more subtle than Otto was, was not her nephew.

Whilst she might not know he is Spider-Man she knows her nephew so she should react and become questionable regarding his change in demeanor and behavior. What’s the old saying ‘A mother always knows’.

“As for MJ, they aren't even married anymore either. Sure she remembers who is under the mask. But I doubt she's gonna bring trouble on herself for prying.”

I address a lot of this in this  post.

Basically, not being married anymore has nothing to do with it. This woman lived with this man for years (five to be precise) and had a very close relationship with him which involved countless tragedies and traumas. That doesn’t just go away. This is to say nothing of the fact that she has known this man for about 10 years and has been his friend and girlfriend during that time. In fact in Stern’s run when she knew who he was but didn’t let him know, she was depicted as knowing him better than anyone and was able to read him as a book. This was back when they weren’t as close as they are now, hadn’t known each other for as long and she didn’t know him as intimately as she would later come to down the road. In ASM #290 Peter himself says MJ knows him as well as he knows himself and this was before the marriage.

Even in Slott’s run this depiction of Mary Jane knowing Peter better than anyone else was highlighted in various stories like Spider Island, a time travel arc, Alpha, and a Lizard arc at HORIZON labs. 

In JMS’ run Peter and Mary Jane were shown to be somewhat in synch even though they were separated at the time and had been for a long while going back. This was showcased in ASM V2 #50 and they had been effectively separated with minimal interaction as far back as ASM V2 #13; arguably even issue #1.

And yet she understood him and knew him very well, falling back into synch with him when they reconciled. Yes there was some awkwardness and them getting to know each other again but it was not on the same level of Otto guzzling champagne, creating spider bots, talking in a manner which was unlike the way he’s ever spoken before and MJ just wondering passingly then dismissing it. This woman has lived through the Chamelon, robot parents and clones and lives in a world where friggin Skrulls have invaded.

This out of character behaviour should send off alarm bells. She DOES clock something is off in Superior #10 but only when he says a phrase she’s never heard him say before. He was doing shit MUCH more out of character before then and she was dismissing it.

Later she was STILL dismissing the notion that Peter wasn’t himself as merely crazy on her part.

Again this woman knows Peter can be/has been cloned  repeatedly. This woman even for awhile believed Peter himself was a clone so she knows even memories can be replicated. But Peter is acting so obviously NOT himself that it’s practically SCREAMING at her that she should get this. In fact Peter’s ghost point this out which is Slott lampshading the situation. That doens’t make it good writing that’s just pointing out how bad your story is.

“Hasn't she (I'm guessing he's referring to Aunt May?) been focused lately on her new marriage though? I don't read enough of Spidey these days so I'm only going with bits and pieces I've read about here and there.”

What does being married recently or focusing upon it have to do with anything?

In Civil War she was focused upon not dying because Peter’s ID reveal had upended her life.

If you are someone’s MOTHER and have raised them all their life you will absolutely  be able to tell when something is wrong, when they are in fact not the real deal.

“As for MJ, who would she go too? Not like anyone would likely believe her unless she had a telepath scan her mind.”

Who would she go to? I dunno maybe the fucking Avengers or Fantastic Four who are Peter’s friends and team mates. Or maybe not go that far why not go to Black Cat, Human Torch or Daredevil . These are all people whom she knows (at least vaguely in regards to Daredevil) personally and have access to technology that can prove things one way or another.

Even if you argue that it’s not fair bringing in the wider Marvel Universe, Black Cat, Carlie, HORIZON labs, the Bugle staff and Scarlet Spider are all Spider-Man franchise characters.

“Now there could be a possibility she's making a list of his behavior and the like and is just waiting for the right time to say something when she knows she's less likely to die from it.

Maybe Slott's just got something going that'll eventually be revealed? Who knows.”

Oh boy, that didn’t stand the test of time did it?

This is just shitty analysis on principle. It hinges upon blind faith and writing stuff in your head about what characters are doing behind the scenes.

There was NEVER an indication MJ was doing anything like that and her actions actually contradicted event he idea of her doing any of that stuff.

The net responses are to the statement that Doc Ock was a gentleman who would treat women with respect.

“Keyword there, 'was' a gentlemen. I can imagine after years of defeats at the hands of Spidey, certain habits would change and he wouldn't care anymore.

It could have just been a subtle change that no one really noticed. He did try and end the world before #700 if I recall right.”

You need to SHOW those habits changing. The last major Doctor Octopus story before BND was in JMS’s run when he was very much a gentleman. You can’t just say his illness and defeats suddenly transformed him into a would be rapist. It’s utterly out of character for him. It’d be like bringing back Ben Reilly and making him a mass murderer. WHY is he a mass murderer.

(Fun fact. The stuff I bolded about Ben Reilly was something I wrote at the time. I kept it in because of how sadly ironic it wound up being…fuck Clone Conspiracy seriously)

Ending the world before #700 is one thing IN Doc Ock’s character. He is egotistical and wants acknowledgement of his genius.

Superior depicted him going against a character trait he’s always had. In his origin story, when he was ‘courting’ Aunt May, when he was involved with Stunner and Lady Octopus and the like he has always been show to have a respect for women and not had to resort to cheap ploys to woo them.

In Superior he was trading off of MJ’s relationship with Peter and Peter’s memories to basically abuse this woman. That is beneath Doctor Octopus. He is an intellectual a man for whom such actions are debase, the realm of the common thug whilst he is much more he is DOCTOR OCTOPUS.

BTW in Web of Death it was established that Doc Ock probably would not target MJ or Peter’s family even though he knew Peter’s identity.

So for him to suddenly switch to ‘I’m gonna fuck his girlfriend to get one over on him” is again utterly out of character.

‘Web of Death’ was co-written by Tom DeFalco btw, who established Otto’s origin. Thus the argument is flying in the face of someone who helped define the character with no explanation at all.

Slott had done this with other characters like Ashley Kafka.Suddenly the most naively compassionate woman in the world who believed she could redeem CARNAGE is saying this lesser serial killer is a complete monster. That is piss poor writing.

Even if Slott WERE to establish and show how Ock went from one extreme to the other it doesn’t make it a good idea. Doc Ock would be rapist is a lot less interesting than Doc Ock the lone super villain who is part gentleman and part humanitarian with a respect for women. If this was Norman Osborn in Peter’s body, or Electro, or Shocker I’d believe these actions.

The topic then changed to Carlie Cooper’s depiction in Superior as a goddam idiot who isn’t even telling MJ Peter might  be evil. “Red Hood wrote: Carlie and Wraith followed Ock’s paper trail because she knows for fact that peter parker doesnt have the money to fund his own private army, the reason she hasnt said anything is because it's not such a good idea to go pointing fingers without absolute truth, remember eddie brock and how he was so sure about the sin eater?”

Carlie’s investigation was going incredibly sloooooooooooooooooowly. Not only was it dull reading, but it made her completely unsympathetic. Why not warn Mary Jane by saying “Look before he died Doc Ock told me he and Spider-Man had swapped bodies. I’m not saying Peter IS Doc Ock but just....be careful MJ”.

Or why not inform the Avengers or Fantastic Four about this. Sure the Avengers gave him a physical but they wouldn’t know what to look for. And why is Carlie Cooper all of a sudden saying “Wait I KNOW Peter doesn’t have this kind of cash so this is a big clue that he isn’t himself.” When her first big clue should have been that time Spider-Man SHOT SOMEONE IN THE FACE!

“also peter and mj arent married anymore.”

See above.

You don’t just suddenly fall out of knowing someone if you’ve been THAT close to them and known them for that long just because suddenly you are not married anymore. She has deduced subtle differences in the Chameleon and clones before this but Ock is NOT being subtle whatsoever. He isn’t even talking the same way he normally does. And Mister Red Hood even says so himself, Carlie can tell right way. His co-workers whom he’s known for LESS THAN A YEAR can tell something is up. But the woman who’s been closer to him than ANYONE in his life, she can’t tell. That is bullshit of the highest order.

“1. mj and peter arent married anymore, idk if they were married in identity crisis but remember how after the deal with mephisto they were separated for x amount of years before she even came back to new york, i can see her not being able to tell peter is acting different at that point. aunt may and the avengers though don't get a pass especially when carlie who knew him the least could tell right away.”

See above.

You don’t just suddenly fall out of knowing someone if you’ve been THAT close to them and known them for that long just because suddenly you are not married anymore. She has deduced subtle differences in the Chameleon and clones before this but Ock is NOT being subtle whatsoever. He isn’t even talking the same way he normally does. And Mister Red Hood even says so himself, Carlie can tell right way. His co-workers whom he’s known for LESS THAN A YEAR can tell something is up. But the woman who’s been closer to him than ANYONE in his life, she can’t tell. That is bullshit of the highest order.

When you separate from someone you’ve been that close to those feelings don’t just disappear. This is especially true of people who’ve been through immensely traumatic events together. Soldiers often find that only fellow soldiers, specifically ones who were with them in combat, can truly understand what they went through and how they felt. It creates an emotional/mental bond. Same thing here. Peter and Mary Jane went through Venom, Kraven’s Last Hunt, the death of Harry, Gwen, aunt May, Ben Reilly, the clone saga as a whole, Civil War, Peter’s OWN death, Maximum Carnage and so on. They’d have that kind of connection I was speaking about, you don’t just forget it to the point where you let MASSIVE differences in behaviour slide, especially massive differences in behaviour which are different to the way he was acting LAST WEEK!

“3. Also i don't think his  [Doc Ock’s] actions are entirely out of character, i mean he was dead, then revived, beat down for several years into a dying body. given time to think about all the things you would do if given another chance i dont think its out of the question for doc to say "great, second chance at life with a movie starhottie gf". also if you'll threaten the city, then the world, then mind swap with someone i dont think having sex is that big a stretch.”

See my comments above why this IS out of character for Doc Ock. Again this isn’t just him wanting to get laid this is him potentially date raping an innocent woman. You need to SHOW the progression of that change

And rape in comic book fiction is understood to be worse  from the reader’s POV than the various Saturday Morning Cartoon style crimes he’s pulled.

The next comment was in response to the public’s indifference towards Spider-Man shooting Massacre in the face! “7. As far as no one caring about massacre, didn't he break out a few times and inflict his namesake? no one is going to care that a killer like that gets shot, humans aren't dignified at all. i can see aunt may saying something but no one else is going to be like "oh great that killer is back in jail, too bad all criminals break out" no they're going to be like "finally someone put down this thug, maybe my life or someone i care about will be spared from him at least in the future" and maybe it was caught on security cameras or phones but maybe they deleted it, i mean spider-man just shot a dude in the face and if he wanted there would be nothing anyone could do to stop him from putting the hurt on someone else”

This is just rubbish.

No one is going to care? For God’s sake the police in real life get reprimanded for using unnecessary force.

The law is the law you CANNOT publically execute an unarmed man. And my point was no one, not even Mary Jane or Jonah, were reacting to this mind-blowingly out of character action on the part of Spider-Man. Maybe they do not care that Massacre was killed but they should be wondering “Jesus that’s not like Spider-Man at all”. This was Spider-Man becoming absolutely EVERYTHING Jameson ever falsely accused him of and no one reacted. And I am sorry but the attitude of ‘human’s aren’t dignified so they’d react like THIS” is extremely broad and generalised. This would be a major talking point and a major issue. This is EXACTLY what the entire ‘Civil War’ debacle was about. Super heroes running unchecked doing as they pleased. It’s been what, a year tops Marvel time since Civil War? If that stuff was deleted YOU NEED TO SHOW IT. The cover story is that EVERYONE in that massive crowd covered for him. That is in no way shape or form how humans actually act. And who would there be to stop like a teenager or a kid or a lone person in the crowd from tweeting “OMG Spider-Man just shot this dude” or uploading a video or picture. They were CHEERING him on they wouldn’t be afraid of him being reprimanded. Once something like that hit the internet it’d spread like wildfire, it wouldn’t be something that if immediately taken down would die away, especially when THE NEWS was stating Spider-Man had ‘neutralised Massacre’ and then Massacre shows up dead, WTF would the public THINK happened?

“Aaron Alexander Luthor wrote: Superior is an excellent title, but I feel you approached it having already made up your mind. Doc Ock NEVER attempted date rape, and I don't know where you get that from”

Boy, I wonder where I got the idea of Otto trying to rape MJ from? What an obviously ‘excellent’ title.

Trying to sleep with Mary Jane whilst tricking her into thinking he is Peter Parker then that is categorically trying to date rape her. He didn’t go through with it because he discovered he could just wank off to her memories (I can’t believe I wrote that) but that is exactly what he was trying to do. Maybe to HIM he didn’t think of it as rape but yeah that’s exactly what it was.

“He ripped off his own shirt, not hers.”

I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about here btw.

“Mary Jane had/has mentioned several times that there is something wrong with him and that she thinks there is something strange going on, he also hasn't spoken to her in weeks in the time frame of the comic.”

Yes MJ has noticed passingly things are wrong but then he feeds her a line and she buys it or otherwise she dismisses it herself. This in monumentally out of character for her given her history and makes her incredibly stupid, which is the ONLY way this title could have worked out. Again, she lives in a world of Skrulls, clones, LMDs and shape shifters one of which is literally an enemy of Peter’s and has tried impersonating him multiple times (targeting her specifically twice). But she either doesn’t clock anything is wrong or doesn’t really react when she does. And he HAD spoken to her within weeks by the time or Superior #2.

“Same goes for Aunt May, he visited her the first few weeks as Parker, and hasnt spoken to her since. He is basically ignoring the people in Peter's life, and they have taken notice.”

See my response about Aunt May not knowing. Again, this woman RAISED him and she could tell when the master of disguise who was being a lot more subtle about impersonating Peter was not her son/nephew.

Also he wasn’t exactly ignoring  the HORIZON labs staff was he?

“When he killed Massacre, some of the civilians were shocked and appalled, but when the police investigated all the officers on the scene lied for Spidey, because they think he did the right thing. That is why the only officers still interested are Carlie Cooper who does know, and is ACTIVELY trying to prove it isnt Peter, and Captain Watanabe aka The Wraith”

My point about NO ONE taking photos, tweeting, facebooking or whatever still stands as does the security cameras thing and the fact that Massacre was TRYING TO GET PUBLICITY. Again with Carlie why is she not warning SOMEBODY at this point. It isn’t like they wouldn’t believe her after Massacre. It isn’t like Spider-Man isn’t acting weird. It isn’t like body swapping is a legit THING in the Marvel universe. For God’s sake this happened to Captain America!

Kaine, the CLONE of Peter Parker with identical memories and everything. In the Sibling Rivaly crossover between Scarlet Spider and Superior Team-Up even HE couldn’t tell that Peter. Was an imposter This guy doesn’t just know Peter well, he IS Peter. And Otto was ranting none too subtley about how Kaine has bad blood with HIM. He doesn’t say he’s Doc Ock but he’s conveying unsubtly to Kaine that he is not Peter Parker and he is not TALKING like Peter Parker either. When his CLONE is still operating under the delusion that he is Peter Parker that’s put it beyond doubt this was ridiculously contrived.

“BTW, Carlie and MJ have talked about the suspicious way Pete has been acting, Carlie just hasnt told MJ directly.”

WHY didn’t Carlie tell MJ! And WHY were she and Peter noticing Peter’s different actions yet being totally blasé about them.

FFS in ‘Kraven’s Last Hunt’ MJ and Peter had been married for just 2 weeks and in that time she was able to deduce from his actions that the guy in the Spider-Man suit was NOT Peter. In the Mark of Kaine an identical clone of Peter approaches her and she is ultimately able to tell (twice) that he is not her husband. And she did this whilst pregnant and stressed out from a life or death situation to say nothing of the fact that Aunt May had recently died which would be weighing on her mind. Yet in Superior her mind was clearer and she was still buying this was Peter. This is enormously bad out of character writing for her

“As for the Avengers scans, it wasnt that no one could read them, its that they all came back NORMAL.”

No, the scans DID NOT come back normal at all. Doc Ock looked at the scans and could TELL something was not normal because he saw ghost Peter was in his mind. Yeah there was a tiny inconsistency in the brain waves but why the heck weren’t there people on the Avengers team that day to take note of stuff like that. Cap, Wolverine, Black Widow and Thor are obviously NOT going to be able to properly read this scientific equipment like Iron Man or Hank Pym or the Beast. ANY of those guys would’ve been able to tell but no only the Avengers who categorically would not be able to properly read the brainwaves were there. Why? Why get the unscientific Avengers? Because of plot contrivances is why.

And where were the telepaths? One telepathic scan from SOMEBODY should have told all. And again these tests come back normal....no one thought he could be a clone? Spider-Man has joked to these people about his clones, they know about them. Correct me if I am wrong but at the time of the Avenger’s physical of Peter wasn’t there a character involved with the Avengers who was supposed to be the living universe? SHE couldn’t tell Doc Ock is Spider-Man? The universe literally didn’t know this?

“Even Dr. Strange and Wolverines tests all came back regular.”

If Dr. Strange with all his power wasn’t able to deduce the truth that’s even MORE contrived!

And what the heck were Wolverine’s test? That he smelt the same? Of course he would.

“There was a tiny inconsistency in the brainwaves, it wasnt that no one could read it, its that it was so small that no one would even take notice of it, except for Peter or Ock if they were to look for it.”

See above for why this is bullshit.

“And the Avengers are STILL very suspicious, if you read the current titles.”

At the time a ‘current title’ was  Superior Team Up #1.

In it the Avengers told him they were wrong to put him in probation and are still just ‘suspicious’ when he INVADED SHADOWLAND WITH AN ARMY!. Because THAT’S so usual for Spider-Man right?

“You're entitled to your opinion, but you cant just make up facts and call it a discussion. I get the impression that you a)Havent read the whole series; b) Had already made up your mind before reading the issues you have read; and c) Havent read the companion stories (i.e. Avenging Spider-Man, Superior Team-up, Hickman's Avengers titles). If you look at the story as a whole, its actually quite good.”

Said the guy who got all the above information I outlined WRONG.

From a technical point of view it doesn’t make sense, it uses contrivances and out of character writing to keep it going. You want to write Doc Ock as Spider-Man. Okay then don’t surround him with people who should be able to figure this out. Or say there is some kind of device redirecting their attention.

Don’t have Doc Ock not act like Doc Ock because that defeats the point of the exercise. Don’t go for deliberate sensationalism or crass storytelling which was essentially everything revolving around him hooking up with Mary Jane and then the oh so lovely page of the Superior Spider-Wanker.

That issue in particular even resolved itself in a contrived manner. Doc Ock begins uttering gibberish which recalled One Moment in Time about “we cannot be together because it’s an unsolvable equation blah blah blah”.

Basically he is saying “I can never be with you because of the danger I put you in”; which is Slott using the character as a mouthpiece.

In the next issue Otto began courting a student at his college because consistency rocks. Even Ghost Peter is out of character at this moment “WOW Ock you did the one thing I could never do and walked away from Mary Jane”. Peter is right he probably can’t walk away from Mary Jane but...does he WANT to? Where the heck is this coming from? What is worse is that it’s so unnecessary. There was a MUCH better explanation for Ock breaking up with MJ. If Ock were in character he could just come to the conclusion that sleeping with MJ under these circumstances would be wrong and beneath him hence he wouldn’t go through with it. If Ock was out of character as he was in their issue but still vaguely in character he could just come to the conclusions that since accessing Peter’s memories he’s begun to have genuine feelings for MJ and doesn’t just want to fuck her, it would involve him having a relationship with here which at this point in time he is incapable of, he doesn’t know how to handle it. I will wholeheartedly admit I was not jazzed about the concept of Superior from the outset. If nothing else I want to read about Peter Parker not Doc Ock and if I did want to read about Doc Ock AS Doc Ock, not as Spider-Man and not as an rotting body.

An arc in a comic is one thing doing this long term all the problems I foresaw have come up as well as some I didn’t even predict. This could have worked if Doc Ock was separated from Peter’s supporting cast who should be able to tell something is amiss but then that defeats a lot of the point of the story. It was a lose-lose situation.

People can enjoy garbage if you want but don’t call it gold.

Part 1

[ridemedaddyjames]

The Xavier Diaries - Part II

Part I

Pairing: Charles Xavier x reader

Warnings: small alcohol consumption

Words: 1,200

Somehow you’d managed to arrive at the most expensive place in the whole town, and you were shocked when Charles was able to walk in and get a seat without a second glance - no reservation needed. These people had greeted him as though he had been there a million times over - even going so far as to bring him their finest selections of wine; entirely on the house.

“Did I miss something? What is it exactly that you do?” You questioned, still in shock.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Charles leaned back, casually observing the menu. You hadn’t seen a single muscle on his body flinch at the prices; which were high enough to pay your rent for the month.

“Try me,” you persuaded, dying to know something more about this interesting man.

“Well, for starters, I’m a Professor, and...” he stopped, muttering the last words half under his breath. “I run my own college campus.”

“How well off is this campus that you’re capable of eating at a five star restaurant?” You laughed, knowing the question seemed rather rude, but needing more answers. “When you said drinks, I thought you meant the local bar; not the finest restaurant in town.” The mocking tone in your voice made him look up at you from his menu with a smile; he was enjoying this way too much.

“Bars are too loud, I prefer a more elegant, and proper setting, when I’m trying to woo a girl.” He responded, letting you make of that what you wish.

“So now I’m being ‘wooed’? In that case, I think I’ll be ordering one of everything!” You joked, lightening the mood.

“By all means, go right ahead, I think I might do the same,” he quipped back almost immediately.

“If I’m not mistaken I believe you’re dodging the question, oh wise Professor,” your teasing made him nod in approval.

“That it may be, but have you ever assumed I’m doing it for a good reason?” Charles shot back, wondering how much he could truly let slip with you.

“Perhaps, but you’ve made me curious to know more,” you stated, becoming more curious by the minute. You didn’t know whether to be intrigued by his mystery, or for it be cause to run.

There was a moment; a slight pause where Charles sat there, fingers pressed casually to the side of his head as if in wonder. If you weren’t mistaken it looked as though he were trying to read your body language in order to asses his next statement. If you were honest, the only thing that kept racing through your mind was how genuinely perfect this man seemed to be. He was the kind of guy you could take home to your parents, show off to the family, and actually enjoy being with in your free time.

Before Charles could say anything, the waiter had arrived to take your order. When you were finished, he finally managed to come up with a response.

“If I were to tell you that I have a genetic mutation, what would you say?” The question hung in the air, and you were completely caught off guard.

“From my understanding, everyone has them,” you finally said, assuming he meant it in a general aspect. “Unless you’re expecting me to believe that you have some kind of genetic enhancement?”

“And if I am?” Charles asked, fairly shocked by your lack of surprise.

“I guess I’d first be a little excited, but also genuinely curious as to what it actually is,” you admitted aloud as you continued to think it over.

Charles leaned in, his lips pulled up into a smug grin as he whispered in your ear. “I’m a telepath,” he admitted, proudly.

“No freakin way!” You shouted, covering you mouth in surprise as you looked around the room, apologizing to the people nearby. “So you can, like, read minds?” You said, softly, leaning in again.

Charles laughed, nodding his head as he took a sip of his wine; he was thoroughly enjoying your reaction. “And more, actually,” he added.

“Okay, Professor know it all, tell me,” you flirted, moving in closer to him as you let your lips brush against his ear, softly. “What am I thinking?” He watched you pull away, biting your lip as you looked him over.

Charles smirked, locking eyes with you as his fingers came to the side of his head, and he snorted with laughter. “You’re wondering if two people can fit on here,” he blushed, looking down at his chair. He was still surprised that he’d managed to say it out loud.

“Alright, lucky guess,” you said, nervously, as your eyes grew wider. Was he being serious? How did he actually know what you were thinking?

“The answer is yes by the way,” he chimed in, bringing your attention back to him.

“What?” You fumbled, awkwardly, trying to rap your head around all of this.

“What you were thinking? The answer is yes; it’s actually quite spacious,” he gloated, adjusting himself in his seat.

Right when you were about to respond, the waiter came around the corner with your food and the only thing you could do was try to stop your cheeks from turning bright red. You did your best to contain your thoughts, but it was hard when you had someone as attractive as himself sitting across from you.

“What is it you’re wanting to say?” Charles asked you, hoping you might choose to speak freely.

“Don’t you already know?” You questioned, beginning to wonder how all of this worked.

“Darling, if I wanted to, I could, but I think it would be best for you to open up to me yourself. It does no good for me to constantly be inside your head. Everyone needs their privacy,” he assured you, taking a bite of his food. There was no hiding the large grin that spread across his face as he looked up at you, after, though. “I can stay out of your head, but if you keep thinking so loudly it might become difficult.” Charles laughed, watching you blush all over again.

The thought of kissing him kept racing through your mind, and you hadn’t even realized how passionately you’d felt about it. “I’m sorry, I just -” you paused, choosing your words carefully. “You’re honestly perfect.”

“Far from it I’m afraid, but thank you for the compliment,” Charles nodded with a smile. Without warning you heard his voice inside your head, it calmed you in a way you’d never felt before, and you enjoyed every word. “I’ve truly enjoyed my time with you this evening, and I would love to take you out again.” The voice said, filling you with a happiness that had been absent for quite some time.

“Careful, Charles, I think I may be falling for you.” The words slipped off your tongue as the two of you looked into each other’s eyes. You’d never felt this way about someone before, and you already wondered if he might be the one.

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

The Xavier Diaries - Part III

[ohnohetaliasues]

Tokyo OC (Setsuna Miyuu)

(Kat)

So, an anon sent me a note about this OC, and I found her almost immediately on Hetalia Fan Characters Wiki. Let’s get into it.

I made a Tokyo OC a while ago, so this should be interesting.

Tokyo (東京 Tokyo) is the capital city of Japan in the series Hetalia: Axis Powers. She is sometimes referred to as Tokyo Metropolis (東京都 Tokyo-to). Her human name is Miyuu Setsuna (刹那 美夢ー Setsuna Miyuu).

Okay, so both Miyuu (more commonly spelled as Miyu) and Setsuna are first names.

Also I read the Kanji for ‘Miyuu’ as ‘Mimu’ so there’s that.

This looks like a Love Live character.

Okay, so as cute as this chibi is, I think this character is a bit whitewashed. She looks Caucasian as opposed to Japan, who does look Asian for the most part.

Name: Tokyo Metropolis (東京都) Human Name: Miyuu Setsuna (刹那 美夢ー Setsuna Miyuu) Alternative Spelling(s): N/A Age: 16

No.

Too young.

Tokyo was originally called Edo, and Edo castle was built in 1457, then became the center of Tokugawa Ieyasu’s military government in 1603. She would be a little older than 16.

Gender: Female Birthday: February 10th

This date has nothing to do with Tokyo’s history.  You could try May 1st, which is the day Tokyo was established as a city.

Hair Color: Caramel Brown (manga), Caramel Brown (anime) Eye Color: Maroon (manga), Cherry Red (anime)

Seeing as none of the countries have abnormally colored hair and that they physically cannot dye their hair, this is not normal because Japanese people typically don’t have red hair. They have dark hair.

Case in point.

Height: 145 cm

Why in fresh hell is she 4′7″? The average height of a Japanese woman is around 5′2″ or so.

Appearance

Tokyo, Japan

She has brown hair that reaches a few inches below her shoulders and a P-shaped curl on the middle of her head.

Does this represent anything?

Her hair is wavy and some of it on the side also curls inward. This was from the effect of having to tie her hair up too often when she was a child.

No. This isn’t how hair works. I tie my hair up plenty and it doesn’t leave a permanent dent, even if my hair is naturally curly.

Despite this, Tokyo's original hair color is actually black.

Like I said, countries cannot dye their hair, so this is not plausible. Leave her hair as black if you wanna stay accurate.

In her first appearance as a character, she wore an above-the-knee black yukata with a reddish-pink sash and a bell at the side. However, when she grew up with Japan, she is seen wearing a seemingly military-type set of clotes with gold linings and black accents.

She would still wear pants and not a skirt because wearing a skirt as a military uniform in combat would be really silly.

Her left boot is noticeably shorter than the right.

Is there a practical reason for this?

As a child, she wore a white kimono that looked big and loose on her. Her hair was styled like two triangular-shaped buns that looked like riceballs.

A white kimono?

From what I know about kimonos, you don’t wear white kimonos unless you’re getting married. Other than that, white kimonos are only ever worn under the actual kimonos and are called nagajuban.

Personality and Interests

Though described as determined and strong-willed, Tokyo doesn't know much of other nations. She tends to be rather shy and gentle to strangers, sometimes acting nervous like she would make a mistake.

Tokyo has the best metropolitan economy in the world, so I’d imagine she’d be generally pretty outgoing. She’d talk to others in a business-like manner because of this, possibly. My own Tokyo OC is afraid of explosives because of the bombings that took place in Tokyo and she is also careful with what she spends because of the economy thing.

Despite this, Tokyo shows a more outgoing and cheerful side to the nations or capitals she's already a bit close to.

Tokyo secretly likes making robots but she doesn't usually reveal her inventions to the other nations or capitals, only to Japan.

I mean, Japanese electronics are pretty common, so I find this silly.

She has a verbal mannerism to say 'ryuun' just like the way China says 'aru'.

Is there an actual reason for this?

Tokyo was relatively quiet and timid as a child. There showed one time when she kicked Susanoo square on the face for eating her sushi, showing that she was quite aggresive.

Who in the hell is Susanoo?

Relationships

Japan

When she was a child, Tokyo lived in Japan's house at a separate room and only went outside to eat a snack or use the bathroom. Eventually, she started to open up more when the other nations China, America and England started visiting Japan. This lead to her meeting Washington and London and seeing her childhood friend Beijing again.

Um.

No.

Holland was the first to visit Japan after he closed his boarders for nearly 263 years, and I’m concerned that he’s not mentioned. I mean, sure America arrived around 1853.

Also, why Washington? It isn’t inaccurate since Japan sent cherry trees to plant along the Potomac River in 1910, but that was 57 years after the boarders opened again.

Okay, did this person even do their research?

China

Main Article: China

China took control of Japan when he was a kid. Before being Japan's capital, she secretly followed him. When China found out about her, she was forced to work as a servant.

N O.

NO.

NO.

Okay no.

China never formally occupied Japan, at least not as far as I know. They were connected politically, but China never actually totally controlled Japan.

However, during WWII Japan did actually occupy some of China’s land.

Do your goddamn research.

Beijing

When Tokyo became China's servant, she met Beijing. Beijing introduced himself as her boss, being China's capital, and often made fun of her and made her work twice as usual.

One time when Beijing asked for Tokyo to cook siopao for him, Tokyo screwed the dish and made Beijing throw up. Since then, he never asked her to cook for him.

This is irrelevant since this was never a thing.

Germany

When Japan became part of the Axis, Tokyo had an opportunity to meet Germany. There is not much known about there relationship, save for the fact that Tokyo dubbed him as a "respectable person".

Uh, okay.

Berlin

Berlin met Tokyo through Germany. They became friends and often shared thoughts, only about war and fighting. Tokyo stated that Berlin was "a person to go to when you're in trouble", contrasting the fact that other nations avoid Germany when they have trouble.

This is irrelevant.

Paris

When Paris went to a vacation in Japan, she met Tokyo and made friends with her. She thinks that Tokyo is her little sister and loves going shopping with her. Paris likes her a lot and is the reason why Tokyo has a lot of "weird" clothes. Despite this, Tokyo hates shopping and going to places with crowds.

Okay, no. Tokyo is a giant city. She would have to be pretty used to crowds and shopping since Tokyo has many markets and shopping districts.

I might even say she would like things like this.

Italy

Italy met Tokyo when he was running away from Germany. Tokyo introduced herself while Italy forgot about being chased.

???

Italy said that Tokyo was like a kid by the way she looks and sometimes calls her "sorellina".

Um. Okay.

Rome

Rome and Tokyo hang out as much as Italy and Japan. They are shown to have good relations with each other as Rome feels that he can trust Tokyo to tell about his problems. Rome often asks Tokyo for tips on how to woo women but it eventually turns out to a disaster since Tokyo doesn't know much about "wooing".

South Italy (Romano)

Tokyo and Romano don't have a good relationship. When the two met, Tokyo was dressed up as a boy so Romano didn't recognized her as a woman. The two bumped into each other and Romano cursed at her, still not knowing her actual gender.

Tokyo's gender was only revealed to Romano when Tokyo went with Japan to look for Italy. But since then, Romano's harsh attitude still hasn't changed towards her.

WHY ARE EITHER OF THESE RELEVANT?

London

Yes. This is accurate. London and Tokyo have a partnership agreement. They even have universities which are connected.

Tokyo and London are close friends just as Japan and England are.

But that’s not why they could be friends.

They met from London being introduced by Japan and since then they have been good friends.

No.

London and Tokyo both enjoy having conversations about anime or about who they ship. Due to London being honest with her opininon Tokyo is always able to confide in her.

Don’t trick me into thinking you did your research when you didn’t.

Name

The exact inspiration behind her human name was from the Japanese word "setsuna"

Japanese name, you mean. But yes, also a word.

which means "in a split second" and "miyu" meaning "beauty" or "dream". This in total gives her name a meaning of "beauty in a split second" or "dream in a split second".

And, my dear readers, this has nothing at all to do with the city of Tokyo.

Discussing further, it is known that Tokyo has a hobby of drawing scenes or events that happen in her dreams. She does this first thing in the morning or whenever she wakes up from sleep. It is revealed that she keeps a pencil and a sketchpad underneath her pillow which she calls her "dream board".

Okay, but this is again, irrelevant. Characters are allowed to have their quirks and hobbies, but with Hetalia OCs, you have to be careful of giving them totally unrelated hobbies.

Character Songs

Marukaite Chikyuu

Hatafutte Parade

Mawaru Chikyuu Rondo

There are no links even on the wiki page, so I guess those are useless.

Trivia

When the Axis celebrated Tokyo's birthday on February 10th by buying her cake, she ate it all without sharing which lead to the fact that Tokyo loves confections. She said sorry after not giving the others the food.

Alright, I guess.

In a comic strip, Beijing mumbled to himself in his room that, "I'm gonna be her boss so we'll finally meet so she can notice me," revealing that Beijing was quite lonely and only wanted Tokyo as a playmate and not actually a servant.

What comic strip? Is this person just pretending Himariya wrote their characters in? I’m confused.

China once called for Tokyo and Japan and looked at them in their eyes. He stated that their eyes looked dull and same but had a different hue.

China just called Japan and Tokyo to look at their eyes? Doesn’t he have better things to do with his time?

Okay, so all that is left is a bunch of art in the gallery, but I don’t know how much of it is stolen and how much of it isn’t, so I’ll just leave it where it is.

Anyway, this OC needs research. Look up information about Tokyo’s history, about Japan’s history. Surprisingly, that video on YouTube, ‘History Of Japan,’ that’s actually a usable source, as silly as it is.

Anyway, I’ll see you guys later. Thanks for recommending this character to me, Anon!

~Kat

[kayteewritessteve]

Secrets and Sins - 4/13

Description: You flee from an abusive situation and find yourself on the other side of the country, creating new friends and possibly finding new love. But will you be able to escape your past? To truly move on with your life? Or will everything come crashing down around you in the blink of an eye?

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 2,700 ish.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Curse words. Brief mentions of abusive behaviour, and moments of abuse—nothing to in depth but could be upsetting to some. Plus possible other triggering thoughts and feelings described.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors, so there’s that.

A few days after your girls night out, and your run in with those piercing deep blues eyes, you are at work. Finding it unbelievably hard to get your mind off the well dressed guy from the club. Though you had tried everything you could to put him out of your mind. Reasoning that you’d never see him again, and even if you did, the same rules would still apply. Dating was not an option for you at this time. That much you knew. But it seemed the more you tried to forget him, the more he just took over your head. He had basically become your main thought since that night and you prayed the thoughts would kindly fuck off, and fast. As it was becoming pretty damn inconvenient, to say the least. But lord, if that man couldn’t fill out a suit in all the right ways—

“Y/N?”

You shook your head, “Wha-yeah…?” Looking up you saw Wanda, arms crossed with a smirk on her face. You had clearly zoned out, again. Fuck.

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout?” She asked with a knowing look then giggled, “Let me guess, does it have something to do with blue eyes?”

You groaned and continued tidying up the table you were clearing, “Yes, I feel like a love sick teenager. Pining over some dude I talked to for all of 10 minutes, one I’ll never meet again.” You grumbled out that last part. No, you were bitter about your shit luck at all.

“I still can’t believe you turned him down.” she shook her head as she helped you grab all the dirty dishes from the table.

“What was I supposed to do?” You rolled your eyes before mumbling, mainly to yourself, “Such an awkward moment.”

“Turning him down was probably not the route you should have taken there though, but,” she shrugged, “to late now”

“Not helping, Wanda!” You spat out and though you were trying to sound stern, it clearly didn’t work, at all. As you both ended up laughing as you headed towards the bar to put the glasses in the dirty bin. “This is just my luck. I bet he was probably super sweet and would have wooed me off my damn feet and proposed in like a year. We would have had beautiful babies and both lived long and happy lives.” You sighed dreamily in a mock way.

Wanda just chuckled and shook her head, as Gamora joined you both behind the bar, “We pining over blue eyes again?” She asked wiggling her eyebrows and looking between Wanda and you.

“Always,” Wanda laughed then skipped away to tend to her table.

“Girl, seriously, you gotta get over it,” Gamora started, pausing mid way through making a drink then nodding, “or under something else. Et vite.” she added firmly. She had this weird thing for randomly throwing words in different languages into her sentences—Usually French, much like she just did, she was a damn language chameleon. Any language she wanted to learn, she did.— It was weird at first but you’d gotten used to it now. However the first time she’d done it, it had confused the hell out of you, but she just informed you that she had travelled before college, and picked up the French language then, and really fucking quickly at that.

But not only that, she had also almost married some rando dude named Peter while she was backpacking through Europe, only to later find him in bed with some English chick named Tessa. Gamora has gone into vivid detail about the girls ‘dicked eyebrows’, saying she was pissed he cheated on her with a ‘fugly ass bitch like that’. And that the girl would have been better off just shaving her eyebrows off entirely and starting from scratch. It was a hilarious story that almost resulted in you peeing your damn pants. Fucking Gamora. Girl had a way with story telling.

“I know. I know. I’m pathetic,” you joked, “but seriously, I’m pretty much over it.” You paused, that was a lie. Sound more convincing. “Just focusing on getting my life on track right now, which is more important currently then dating. That is why I turned him down in the first place.” Better? Kind of, but not really.

“Good plan. Men suck. Chicks before dicks and all that jazz,” she waved a hand around then wandered off to drop off the drinks she’d just made to one of her tables.

A few hours later the front door opened and Thor entered in front of a tall slender man, with long jet black hair. Who did not look impressed to be here. That had to be Loki, and even though he looked nothing like Thor, the girls had told you a bit about him. Including the stark difference in appearances, something about Loki being adopted, or something. They also informed you that he was pretty harmless, but had his snappy moments. And tended to be in a mischievous mood often. He disliked incompetence, idiocy and tardiness, among many other things. Guy sounded exhausting. But as long as you worked hard, kept your mouth shut and showed up on time he was happy. Or at least as happy as a grumpy man could be.

You began working your way through the pile of dirty cups, as your section was all taken care of, for the moment, and you didn’t want to just stand around doing nothing. And looking useless.

Thor approached the bar, “Y/N, this is brother Loki, the other owner of this wonderful establishment.” He motioned around with both hands, in a flourishing way before gesturing to you, “Loki, this is Y/N, our newest waitress. She is fitting in wond—“

“Thank you, Thor,” he cut him off rather shortly, “but i’ll be the judge of how well she is ‘fitting in’ here,” he said sharply. Thor just smiled apologetically at you and nodded.

“Y/N, was it?” Loki asked, and you put your hand out for him to shake but all he did was look at it, interestingly, then crinkle his nose to stare at you.

“Ah…Yes, sir,” you lowered your hand back down, awkwardly. What a dick.

“Try not to screw up,” was all he said in return.

“Of course, sir,” you nodded, resisting the urge to roll your eyes and instead shot him an overly fake smile, teeth and all. Not like he’d know it was fake. However, by the twinkle in Thor’s eyes and the smirk on his lips, you figured he did. Whelp, there you have it. Your first official meeting with your other boss. Such a dick.

Loki took off through the door to the stairs with Thor following close behind. It was weird for Loki to be here as it was the middle of the month, Wanda had told you he only ever showed up at the end of the month to check the books. Well, unless he had a meeting. You’d bet that was probably the case.

You shook your head then refocused on continuing to clean the dishes but after a few minutes someone cleared their throat, startling you and you dropped the glass in your hand, it shattered upon impact with the floor. “Shit,” You mumbled and cringed before looking up, and instantly thinking you must have passed out. Or maybe you had died? Because the blue eyes staring at you couldn’t be real, could they? There was no way they belonged to the mystery man from the club.

You quickly blinked at him a few times as if waiting for him to vanish into thin air. But he didn’t. You shook your head “Ah, sorry, don’t mind me.” You waved off your, once again, awkward behaviour, “So, what can I get cha?”

There was that damn smirk again, “No apologies needed,” his eyes lowered clearly looking at your name tag. “Y/N. and I’ll take a scotch. Neat.” You could hear the amusement oozing off his words. Whelp, he knows your name now…And where you work. Fuck.

You absently nodded your response before spinning around to find the best scotch the pub had, an idea popping into your head. You pulled the bottle off the shelf and poured 2 fingers into the glass then turned around to put the glass in front of him. “How much do I owe you, doll?”

You raised your hand and shook your head. “Nothing. Call us even.”

He just stared at you for a moment, his expression blank, unreadable. What you wouldn’t give for the power of mind reading right about now. But then he broke the silence, “If I remember correctly, I got you two drinks,” he raised a smug brow towards you.

You laughed and shook your head again, “Well, you caught me there, I guess I still owe you.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment then nodded, “I guess you do.” The words sent a chill down your spin as he turned around and headed towards the door to the left of the bar, the same one Thor and Loki had gone through only moments earlier. Clearly Loki was, in fact, here for a meeting.

You began to wonder what blue eyes did for a living, why would he be meeting with Thor and Loki. Maybe he was in the business? Or worked for a liquor company? Possibly a lawyer or business partner, maybe? He was in the VIP section at the club… You shook your head. That’s none of your business. You had turned him down, and for good reason, so what he did for a living shouldn’t matter to you.

Just as you were trying to refocus on cleaning yet again, you noticed him pause to look back at you, he had only made it a few steps away from the bar, and once again a smirk plastered on his handsome face. “See you around, Y/N,” but it wasn’t wishful thinking, no, it was a promise. You heard it in his voice. And the way your name rolled off his tongue not only made you weak in the knees, but also made you acutely aware that he was rather pleased with himself. Pleased with the fact that he had learned your name, without your help.

Once he was through the door you groaned then crouched down to clean up the broken glass. You weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anymore run-ins with him, at least not without jumping him right then and there. But you couldn’t. Dating = bad news bears. So instead, you decided it would probably be best to just die right here on the floor. Or quit your job. Yeah, that one. You rolled your eyes. Always so dramatic.

Once again, here you were pining over the same blue eyed guy, wishing you could have been in a position to have accepted his first date invite. Now you only had more for your mind to run with about him. You had noticed just how fucking hot he was at the club, but the low lighting did not do him justice. And yes, his hair was blonde, and styled just right. His suit looked tailored to him, and most likely super expensive. Making the ‘where he worked’ question pop back up in your head. Obviously he made good money, where ever he worked—

You heard hasty footsteps coming towards you and looked up to see Wanda scampering over, before she crouched down beside you to help you clean up the broken glass. She quickly peered around then whispered harshly, “Y/N, do you know who that was?!”

You gave her a puzzled look and whispered back, “Yeah,” you said slowly, “blue eyes. But how do you know who that was…?”

“What!?” She damn near yelled before slapping a hand over her mouth, “THAT was blue eyes!? Oh god…oh god. Not good.”

You furrowed your brows at her “Jesus Wanda, what’s gotten into you….?” You hissed before it clicked, “Wait, why is that not good?!”

“That was Steve Rogers. As in the mob boss Steve Rogers. As in the King of fucking New York Steven Grant Rogers. As in—“

“I get it, Wanda. Shit.” you cut her off with a glare, then it sank in and your eyes widened, “Oh fuck. Nope. Nooope. No.” You shook your head adamantly, “No fucking thank you.”

“He came in, took one look at you then headed directly for the bar.” She looked thoughtful for a second, “Which is odd because he never goes to the bar before his meetings with the guys. He usually comes in and goes straight upstairs,” she looked confused for a moment before shooting bolt up right to stand again. “Oh god. He only got a drink so he could talk to you,” she said rather loudly.

“Shhhh Wanda!” You grabbed her arm and pulled her back down, “Someone will hear you. Fuck.”

“Y/N, this is bad. What if he asks you out again?! You can’t say no!”

“Like hell I can’t,” you mumbled, “I refuse to get caught up in that world,” ..again. Though you left that last part out.

She shook her head vehemently, “No one rejects Steve Rogers, Y/N.”

“Well judging by the fact that I already have once before, I’m sure I’ll have no issues doing it again,” You both stood up and you threw out the broken glass and dirty paper towels. He had just been standing right in front of you, in the flesh, and he could have asked you out again, asked for your number, fucking anything. But he hadn’t. Maybe he wasn’t that interested in you. Furrowing your brow again as you turned back to Wanda, “Well, that is if I even find myself in that situation again.”

“Don’t look so damn conflicted about it,” she giggled, “let’s just hope he drops it and leaves you alone.” she said as she raised her left hand and crossed her fingers at you before she took off to tend to her tables. Yeah, let’s fucking hope he does.

“Shit. I knew that smirk only meant trouble,” you mumbled to yourself before going to check on your own tables. Hoping you could just avoid him from now on. Or at least once he was done his meeting with the brothers. You’d hide in the bathroom if you had to. Yes, that is a solid plan. You rolled your eyes again, aware it wasn’t.

With every passing minute you became more anxious. More nervous. What was with you and mob bosses!? Did you have a sign on your head that read ‘I like them as fucking dangerous as they come’. You were clearly a magnet for thugs. But at least you always held the bar high, only drawing in the fucking Kings. Fuck. You crinkled your nose. Jesus christ. This was just your fucking luck.

Just then the door by the bar opened. And your stomach was instantly in your throat. Steve and Thor exited with Loki close behind. You looked up at them before locking eyes with Steve. Still with that damn smirk on his face only this time he paired it with a wink in your direction. Probably the hottest fucking wink anyone had ever shot your way. Why does he have to fucking look like that!? Damnit. But then he turned to shake Thor and Loki’s hands, exchanging a few whispered words with them, words you couldn’t make out over the noise of the patrons around you, then just like that he promptly left. Without so much as a backwards glance.

You watched as he left before releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Happy he hadn’t interacted with you again. Hopefully it would stay that way. For your sake, at least.

The rest of your shift was relatively quiet. Or at least as quiet as a pub could be. You clocked out, grabbed your jacket and headed out the doors. Once again pulling your hood up over your head, checking both directions then heading down the now familiar 7 blocks towards your home. Completely oblivious to the blacked out Mercedes across the street from your work, and the pair of light blue eyes that watched you as you left.

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

@hopefulmoonobject @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts

[yesmooshoe]

Pepperony Smut-Mas, day 4!

It’s day 4! I got it posted just before midnight my time! Woo hoo! 

Day 4 - Office Pegging

Rating: Explicit

Words: 2740ish

Summary: In this installment, Pepper has a bit of a competency kink and can barely contain herself as she watches him give a presentation.

Read this and previous chapters on AO3!

Or read it here...

The first time it happened was when Tony was handing out the perfectly color-coded binders he'd been up all night putting together.

The second time was during the presentation while he explained that with the use of arc reactor technology they could purify water in remote areas more efficiently than it had ever been done before. He held it together though, and the board remained blissfully unaware of the vibrating butt plug in his ass that was being controlled by their CEO.

The fourth time she used it was while she was shaking everyone’s hand at the end. When she got to Tony he saw her sneakily tap her tablet screen and she just gave him a devilish grin.

“Great job, Mr. Stark. I’d say that the future of the company is looking very bright. I look forward to working with all of you.” She said with an enthusiastic smile, turning back to the students beside Tony.

He clenched his ass around the toy, doing his very best to not just let out a string of curse words as the vibrations tore through him. His cock was starting to stir awake now, and he knew that he was going to need to get out of there and take care of it as soon as possible, whether Pepper was with him or not. He wasn’t sure what her plans were for the rest of the day.

“Thank you, Ms. Potts.” Tony said through gritted teeth, shifting the over-the-shoulder bag he was wearing around to cover his growing erection like he was in middle school.

Seeing this, Pepper released her finger from the screen and, mercifully, the vibrations stopped. He couldn’t believe that Pepper was doing this in the middle of a meeting with the board, but holy shit was he into it.

“You’re welcome! Now, if you’ll excuse us, Mr. Stark and I have a conference call with the Department of Energy.” She said with a big smile as she turned and raised her eyebrows at him suggestively.

It seemed like he wasn’t going to have to take care of the growing problem in his pants alone after all. He turned to the kids said he’d talk to them soon before eagerly following Pepper, doing his best to not seem too obvious about the whole thing. The journey from the conference room to her office was torture. They’d been together for a while and everyone knew, but Pepper had a pretty strict policy about PDA at the office which he tried to respect. At the same time though, all he wanted to do was pull her into a broom closet and go to town, not really caring if anyone heard them.

The office was a better choice though, and soon they were inside.

“Jarvis! Office blackout . Now. ” Pepper demanded as they entered the room. “No one in or out. Hold all phone calls. If anyone asks, we are on a call with the Department of Energy.”

As soon as she started giving instructions, Jarvis began to oblige. Tony could hear the doors lock and saw the windows dim a bit, meaning that while they could still see out of them, no one could see inside. There was also a magnetic field running through the walls which made the office completely soundproof. He’d had all of this installed while he worked here, and he’d never been more thankful for it than he was in this very moment.

“God, you’re so fucking hot Tony, get over here.” Pepper said, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

“I guess the color-coded binder tabs really did it for you, huh?” He chuckled as he broke away from the kiss.

“You have no idea. The spreadsheets. The powerpoint! You were so fucking good up there.” She said she started walking him back towards her desk. ”So smart. And funny. And your hair is perfect. And the suit is perfect. And you were 15 minutes early. God, I could’ve fucked you right then and there when you turned up with everything all organized and ready to go.”

Tony just beamed, proud of himself and amused by how much this all seemed to have turned her on. If he’d know that she got like this he would have been on time for every single meeting from the moment they’d met. “Well, I very much appreciated the butt plug. It was a little hard to hold it together at the end though. You’re the worst.”

“You ready for something bigger?”

Tony’s eyes just widened as he nodded, not really expecting that . Seriously, if he’d know that she got off this much on him actually doing his job he would have been a model employee.

“Good. Pants off. Bend over.” She demanded as she broke away from him and walked over to her desk. Tony just stood there for a while though, completely transfixed by the woman in front of him. She picked up a silver briefcase and set it on her desk, which just sent a shudder through Tony. He knew exactly what was in it and couldn’t wait for it to be inside of him.

Pepper looked up at him and smiled as she undid her belt and the button of her skirt and stepped out of it, which revealed that she was already wearing the harness. She continued to undress until she was wearing nothing but a black bra, the black harness and black heels. Tony’s cock was rock hard and he was so glad that he didn’t know she’d been wearing the harness during the meeting or else he wouldn’t have been able to talk.

“Holy shit.” He managed to say, still completely mesmerized by her.

“I thought I told you to take your pants off and bend over, Stark.” She said firmly while opening up the briefcase.

“Yes, yes ma’am.” He said as he started fumbling with his own belt. As he undid his pants and let them drop to the ground, he watched Pepper run her hands over the assortment of dildos in the case. He’d made all of them and the harness special for her, special for them. They were covered in sensors that would shoot vibrations right back to her as she fucked him, and it had quickly become one of their favorite toys. He swallowed hard when she picked up the biggest one, and she gave him another very devious smile as she locked it into place. The sight of her walking towards him, a huge red cock attached to her, almost made him cum right on the spot.

She walked up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You were so good today, baby. You have no idea how much I wanted to grab you and fuck you right in front of the board. It was all so good. I need you to bend over though.”

She placed a hand on his back, spun him around, and did just that, pinning him to her desk as she lifted up his shirt and revealed his ass. She gave him a light spank right before turning the vibrator on again, causing Tony to moan out loudly, like he’d been saving it up all morning. His cock was so hard now and all that he wanted to do was touch it, but he knew that he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until Pepper told him that he could, if she ever told him that he could.

“Don’t cum yet, baby. I’d be very disappointed.” She said sweetly.

Tony could only whimper in response, doing his best to comply with her wishes. She stopped though, bringing her hand back from the tablet to rest on his ass, giving it a little squeeze.

“Let’s get that thing out of you so that I can fuck you properly, unless of course you’d like me to leave it in?”

As hot as that sounded, they’d never tried that before and this didn’t seem like they best place or situation to be doing that sort of thing. “Out. Please?” He asked, his voice muffled as she still held him against the desk.

“Ok. Just relax. I got you.” She said as she gently ran her hand over to grab the toy. Tony took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles as Pepper pulled it out of him with a pop, causing him to let out another little moan.  Pepper let go of him for a moment, which gave Tony the opportunity to get a bit more comfortable. He heard Pepper fussing around and glanced back to see her opening up a bottle of lube. “Eyes front.” She said with a smile as she poured some into her hand. “Look out at the company you built while I destroy your ass.”

Tony just laughed a bit and followed her instructions, though for the moment he was resting his forehead against the cool glass of the desk. “You’re the one whose kept it afloat, Pep. Not me.”

“Well, I’m going to be looking at it too.”

A moment later he felt her hand against his asshole, lubing him up and dipping a finger in and out of him a few times while presumably lubing up her own cock. He could hear her letting out little moans herself, which meant everything was working properly. All he wanted was for both of them to get off while doing this, which was why he’d built it in the first place.

Once thoroughly lubed up, her hand returned to his back, holding him against the table while she used the other to tease his hole with her cock. She ran it up and down a few times before lining herself up and pushing into him rather quickly, though once inside she stopped, holding it there and letting them both get used to the new sensation.

“Oh fuck.” He grunted out. “Yes, god, I love you so much.”

She moved in and out of him slowly a few times, and the quiet moans escaping her lips were driving him absolutely crazy. After a few more thrusts she ran her hand up his back, grabbed his hair and yanked his head up so that he could look out of the window in front of him. Her other hand gripped his hip as she started moving her hips in earnest. Tony was moaning out with every thrust, the huge cock hurting him in the best way possible. He was desperate to touch his cock, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even reach it if he wanted to. All he could do was take it, let her fuck him while he looked out over his empire. Their empire. And he knew that any minute now he’d be cumming all over the floor before collapsing into a puddle on the ground.

“You’re such a good boy, Tony. Taking my cock like the little slut that you are. Do you like when you boss fucks you like this?” She asked, gripping his hair a bit tighter.

“Yeah.” He panted out in response.

“Good. Because you deserve it.”

After that, the room filled with the sound of her pounding him, and Tony could tell that she was getting close. She’d gotten so worked up watching him and teasing him during the presentation that he was honestly surprised that she’d lasted this long. He clenched his muscles around her cock, doing his best to help her out. Her thrusts started to become erratic and soon her grip on him tightened and she yelled out his name in ecstasy as she came.

Her thrusts slowed for only a moment while she caught her breath, but soon she started moving hard again. Her smooth cock felt so good inside of him and she was hitting him in all the right places with every snap of her hips. He could feel the pressure building and it was getting hard for him to focus on anything, too overwhelmed by all of the sensations.

She spanked him once more before moving her hand around to grip his cock, and Tony cried out in relief. His own cock had been so desperate for attention for so long, and he'd been wondering if she was going to touch him at all.

"Fuck! You're so fucking good to me boss, so good." He whined out underneath her, and with a few more strokes he came with a loud, high-pitched cry. She slowed down her thrusts but continued to move her hand over his cock, getting out every last drop. When she finally let go of him Tony collapsed against the desk completely fucked out. She slid out of him slowly and walked away, and he felt so empty as he listened to her heels clinking against the floor.

He tried to stand up, but his legs were like jelly and he just slid down to the floor and leaned against her desk.

"You ok?" She asked as she took of the harness and put everything in the case.

"Yeah. Just need a minute. Or 10." He said, looking over to her and giving her a smile.

She picked up her clothes and walked towards the bathroom connected to her office. Once inside she tossed a few towels out to him. "I'm gonna put myself back together. When you feel like a human again can you clean everything up?"

"Yep." He said, his mind still cloudy.

He stayed on the floor for a while like a fucked out, useless lump. All he wanted to do was curl up on her couch and rest, but he knew that he couldn’t do that. Eventually he took a deep breath and stood up. He pulled his pants up and ran his hands through his hair while wiping up the mess he'd made on the floor with a towel under his foot.

"You might want to get the floors waxed." He joked when he heard the bathroom door open again. He smiled when he turned to her and saw that she was back in her full CEO regalia.

She just laughed as she walked towards him while fussing with her earring. She gave him another kiss on the cheek and rested he head against his shoulder for a moment. "I love you, Tony. You really did do good today. Everything was great. I have to get to my 3:30 though, can you get everything else back in order?"

"Of course babe, go kick some ass. I'll see you at home, and now that I know how hot color-coded binder tabs get you I've got some work to do." He teased as he wrapped his arms around her waist to give her a proper kiss.

She just smiled before glancing at her watch. "Ok. I really have to go. I'll see you later honey."

"Bye Pep." He called after her as she broke away from him and headed to the door. When she was gone he turned back and asses the rest of the damage. It wouldn't take too long to clean up and he'd still have plenty of time to stop at Staples on the way home.

[punkscowardschampions]

Ronnie & Joe

Ronnie: pick me up Joe: rude you clearly did without me Joe: but I'll be able to do a twofer, yeah 👌 Joe: send your distress signal so I know where to point Ronnie: [wherever she's been working for a hot sec, I dread to think lol] Joe: you making a complaint about their cold-calls in person? Joe: tick off initiative on your CV Ronnie: my sides have split & it aint fuck all to the piss poor stitching Joe: see how far we can stretch your guts either side of you, fun Joe: did you self-sew or see one of your gun-wielding pals? different principle tats and triage Ronnie: then you can play a round of guess how much of this blood is mine, get yourself proper going Joe: too kind, stop me from charging the going rate for a while yet 🚖 Joe: what office supply did you use though Joe: if you were too cliche, you are going to have to sit up front and talk to me, proper cabbie punishment Ronnie: everything got nicked day 1 baby they werent about to waste any staples keeping shit on desks Ronnie: phone & a script is your lot Joe: there any drug we can act like anyone's calling it oscar on the street? Joe: you fully Joe Pesci'd someone with the phone, yeah? 👏 Ronnie: any gear that should go straight in the bin Ronnie: call it oscar Joe: you are wasted on 0 hour contracts, my dear Ronnie: not wasted enough for em Joe: join me at your local overpriced shit coffee dealer Joe: our bathrooms couldn't pass a piss test but they all only want the ⬆pers Joe: 💔 Ronnie: ill have an escort if you dont get a fucking move on Ronnie: you got enough student spends to feed coffee & doughnuts to the full force yeah Joe: say lucky you but security guards got as many hairs on their head as they got IQ points Joe: lot down Soho are decent conversationalists, unlike Daz and Gaz Joe: I did just get this terms though so hold on and you can help me 🔥 through it Ronnie: i dont get turned on by einstein & his pals mckenna thats your wank fuel Ronnie: easiest way to get a cunt off my back is to put him on his Joe: he only banged his cousin, that's nothing to waste energy on Ronnie: 💔 none of your cousins look enough like your mam for you Joe: why do you think i was searching Joe: daring to dream Ronnie: give a fuck about your nancy drew fantasies Ronnie: that schoolgirl shit is tapped Joe: the catholic schoolgirl uniforms have been overstated Joe: not all that in person, be the review Joe: nuns though, yeah Joe: enough mild peril to manage Ronnie: charlie will be gutted youve switched from homos to dykes Joe: you're the only one who's guts I wanna play around Joe: I'll break it to him nicely Joe: doughnuts, yeah Ronnie: consolation hole Ronnie: youve had shitter ideas Joe: it was yours, in fairness Joe: dunno about offering up my hole to every bloke at the met but if I put my foot down shouldn't be an issue Ronnie: i dont reckon a consolation footjob is gonna cut it Ronnie: not my first offence Joe: giving away how highly you think of my 🍑 Joe: what happened then, beyond telemarketing being worse than shitting out razorblades Ronnie: you wish you had 1 whitey Joe: says you Ronnie: if i had any curves theyd be cut off by now Joe: junkie chic before the habit Joe: some girls have all the luck Ronnie: lucky i need your bullshit heroics for this or id send you on a fools errand to sleuth the pieces out of landfill Joe: white knight > jester Joe: not my usual style, but for you I'll make an exception Ronnie: unless youre gonna say your horse fucking girlfriend dressed you the other night ive already seen it like Joe: you think her thing is budget kurt cobain? Joe: or that she's blind Ronnie: be blind by now if you catholics arent full of shit about touching yourself too much Ronnie: homesick for the horse & rejected by you Joe: what do you think its called Joe: my bets are on some boy band member she fancied when she was 11 and daddy was gutted Ronnie: or the 1st lad she wanted to meet round the back of the bike sheds Joe: you're such a romantic Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: im thinking like a basic white bitch from kent or wherever the fuck you said Joe: you do it well Joe: no way her school had anything common like bikesheds though so knocking a point off Joe: getting fingered on the hellipad is more voyeuristic but has less of a charm about it Ronnie: write a song about it Ronnie: shes gonna be charmed by the namedrop Joe: return the favour Joe: she's making me help her with her coursework Ronnie: plaster cast of your cock and then what Ronnie: tell her you aint no hendrix & its been done Joe: charlie wishes, whitey Joe: I'll cc 'em both in about my disappointing dick Ronnie: ill pass on gaz & daz numbers Joe: god I hope the plaster ain't dried Ronnie: god aint listening to you nancy Joe: adds up Joe: that kind of dad, technically always keep an eye but going in one ear and out the other Joe: 💔 woe is me Ronnie: irish catholics aint got fuck all going on between the ears she werent in it for that Joe: fucked me up with her shit genetics then Joe: you manage to get a pen? Joe: shove it in my ear and dig it out Ronnie: pull it out of my neck & you can stick it where you like Joe: we'll let the blood piss out 'til it feels right Ronnie: im the romantic Ronnie: shut up Joe: alright, you need to be conscious to woo me Ronnie: couldve fooled me Joe: dead girls pale in comparison Joe: 💘 Ronnie: the boners you lot have got for open caskets over there i dont reckon youve ever seen a dead girl the proper colour Joe: just said you were #1 but you've got to be 1 and only, yeah? Ronnie: in your fever dreams mckenna Ronnie: i aint looking that much like your ma however much slap i put on Joe: you're prettier than her Ronnie: now you want me to drink bleach instead of having a bath in it Ronnie: make up your fucking mind like Joe: just knew that would wind you up Joe: gotta bring out some cliches Joe: you're perfect just the way you are, you know Ronnie: drop dead Joe: god willing Joe: he's being fucking slow about it, despite my best efforts Ronnie: ill give it my best shot if you keep on Joe: another one for the cv Ronnie: find it written in my blood shit & bile on this wall Ronnie: thats your girlfriends coursework aced for her Joe: beats the lecture I'm skipping out on by miles Ronnie: no shit none of em are dressed like nuns Joe: none of 'em hate me like you either Joe: so damn likeable, its a curse Ronnie: i dont wanna hear about all your teachers trying to pet you Ronnie: childhoods over golden boy Joe: and all without me getting molested once Joe: by any nuns or teachers anyway Ronnie: 💔 Ronnie: why youre such an annoying cunt Joe: abuse really humbles you, does it Joe: builds character Ronnie: gives you something to properly cry about Joe: got nothing on the shit my brain can make up Joe: idle hands and all that Ronnie: yeah youre so special baby Joe: it's just being mental or not Joe: if you ain't, you can go through whatever fucked up shit and be alright still Joe: if you're mental nothing even needs to happen and you'll be worse off Joe: some of us ain't got a chance from conception Ronnie: tell me something i dont know Ronnie: poster child for not having a fucking chance & any mental problems they wanna attach Joe: you better pay for more ad space Joe: call it karma, or dodgy genetics Joe: but I make a great case for abortion Ronnie: like i said before not one that needs to be put to me Ronnie: had more of em than youve had misery boners Joe: won't make you tell me about 'em Joe: no way you'd be as descriptive as the furious pro-lifers who act like the baby is fit to crawl out when you kill it Ronnie: hot Ronnie: shouldve called 1 of em to pick me up instead Joe: condemnation and loathing is meant to be my thing Ronnie: sharings meant to be your thing too yeah? Joe: only when it's inadvisable Ronnie: only when you wanna Joe: if you got to play oldest you'd know that's sadly untrue Ronnie: stuck being the cliche middle kid between fitz & the other one Ronnie: fucks sake Joe: seeking attention and approval because you're overlooked and under-appreciated? Joe: it's why 3 is a good number, any more and you've got multiple middle kids Joe: maybe I don't wanna fuck my mum, just missing all 3 of my own so much 🙄 Ronnie: they wish anyone could overlook me Ronnie: & you deffo do wanna fuck her so thats shit on your thesis Joe: yeah, sounds just like them Joe: suits you Joe: like the basic white bitch thing Ronnie: go fuck your mam Ronnie: im too tired for this Joe: you won't have no early start tomorrow sound of Ronnie: didnt have an early start today Ronnie: thats what kicked off this bullshit Joe: fair enough Joe: who wants a cold call at 7am Ronnie: the cunt who runs the place will be getting 1 off me til he pays me Joe: lucky him Joe: might wanna stay in your debt longer, romantic that you are Joe: attention very flattering Ronnie: what im hearing is i should tell his missus some fucking fairytale about the attention he was giving me Ronnie: everyonell be made up with the lie Joe: could do Joe: like your flair Joe: or I could come in, tell him you're mental and that he didn't make adequate allowances for you but now you're too traumatized to come back so he should just pay and we won't have to sue Joe: might get damages on top Ronnie: who are you my fucking school age carer like Joe: i'm believable, and more palatable than you outwardly Joe: anyway i look older Ronnie: than what 12 Joe: you have a baby face Joe: i look like i've not slept in as many years Joe: which is pretty accurate, as it goes Ronnie: do i fuck Ronnie: i look like ive shaken a baby to death Joe: child on child crime Joe: shocking headlines there, like that scottish girl who was fucked then got out and was someone's gran like she didn't kill a toddler Ronnie: see how palatable you are when I kick your teeth in Joe: it's a curse Joe: if you wanna lift it and be my hero instead of it being this way 'round Joe: love you forever, like Ronnie: ill lift your wallet fuck the rest Joe: already offered you my money Joe: not even a challenge, soft touch Ronnie: like youve ever been challenged soft lad Joe: go on Ronnie: youre already going on loads Joe: bet you've never heard about the traffic in this city, have ya Ronnie: fuck it ill go lay in it Joe: 😍 Ronnie: save the pillow talk for when youre offering me somewhere else to sleep Ronnie: would let you fuck me for entry to horse girls en suite if theres a bath in it Joe: where's your bed gone Ronnie: its got a hysterical homo in it whos only gonna get himself in more of a fanny flap cause ive been sacked Ronnie: ill take the wreckage of a 4 car pile up or whatever Joe: gotcha Joe: how long 'fore he calms it Ronnie: how long are you offering to spend buying him drinks & cupping his balls Joe: i get it Joe: you wanna wifeswap Joe: not just her art assignment you're interested in Joe: but you can just take my bed, I'm always falling asleep on the sofa or up the table and she'll relish at more chance to watch me sleeping Ronnie: your room got a 🔒 Joe: yeah but you're alright, it's on the inside Joe: not going to get fritzl about it Ronnie: youd need more than that to keep me in Ronnie: which youd know if you were earning off dealing with my mental problems Joe: not giving you a challenge either, don't get hysterical yourself like Ronnie: you couldnt like Ronnie: bigger pussy than your basic white girlfriend Joe: oh god stop talking about it Joe: i'll be sick Ronnie: no stomach for any kind of challenge Joe: you crack on Joe: i'll stick to 🍩 Ronnie: not so needy for some clean piss that ill be licking her out for it Joe: you should write this song for me Ronnie: whats in it for me Ronnie: got all your spends on a promise as is Joe: the fame and full writing credits, obviously Ronnie: fuck off obviously Joe: that's how we know you're not really a middle kid Ronnie: more shit you can come at your ma with Joe: I'll save it for the next holiday Ronnie: 💘 Joe: what about your dad Ronnie: i dont reckon hes up for another go on her if youre there watching Joe: 💔 Joe: i meant do you know what happened to him Joe: you might have more interesting half brothers out there, what I'm thinking Ronnie: got no interest in little fucking kids Joe: so you do know Joe: did he come find you or what Ronnie: dont get jealous nance Ronnie: did it myself like Joe: he meet your expectations Ronnie: what kind of fucking soft shit is that Ronnie: get a grip mckenna he aint rich Joe: a no would suffice Joe: though it's adorable you really kicked it like Annie over it Joe: you could've said you had none, or you expected him to be dead or worse, a useless cunt Ronnie: why would i say fuck all to you about it Joe: too painful too private Joe: gotcha Ronnie: wank over your own parents when i aint waiting Joe: the fact you've not implied I'd prematurely cum in my pants Joe: you're so full of hope it's equal parts inspiring and worrying Ronnie: get out of my face before i kick yours in Ronnie: everyone who aint gone blind can see youre a virgin Joe: don't be jealous, sid Ronnie: you cant tell your older sister what to do baby Ronnie: that aint how this works Joe: it wasn't good ever Ronnie: course youre crying about that too Ronnie: fucking hell Joe: just trying to ease your jealousy Joe: anyway, you'll be pleased to know the lacklustre results were down to my lack of trying, not theirs Ronnie: 1 less dose of the clap & i might still be fertile now thats fucking worrying Ronnie: keep your status choir boy Joe: bit cliche far as fantasies go but alright Ronnie: you started it Ronnie: trying to make me feel special Joe: no need to try is there Ronnie: not now my gag reflex has been triggered Joe: like that ain't been decimated by now too Ronnie: youre learning Ronnie: your teachersll be made up Joe: hope for the molestation yet? Joe: nice Ronnie: ease your 💔 & limp dick Joe: calm down Joe: might get attached Ronnie: do your grades the world of good Joe: you wanna help me with my homework? Ronnie: youre that shit in the sack you still wont get an a after giving your teachers a going over Ronnie: unlucky like Joe: so you can help me Joe: what else you gonna do whilst you're hiding from charlie Ronnie: use your imagination Joe: no need Joe: you'll be sharing Ronnie: cant stop you kicking the door in Ronnie: its yours Joe: just the needle, not the bed, like Joe: you're fine Ronnie: yeah youll be between horse girls sheets Joe: don't reckon she's strong enough to carry me Ronnie: only has to strap a saddle on Joe: 😂 Ronnie: fuck knows what she would fill your nose bag with Joe: the surprise is the fun part Ronnie: dont come crying to me when its oscar Joe: if she was half as interesting as you're making out, might stand a chance of working Joe: as it goes, probably be granola Ronnie: stick her thatll make her more your type Joe: come on Joe: she don't look a thing like my mother Ronnie: fucks sake when shes under get a 🔪 Ronnie: do your best like Joe: i keep telling you i'm not one for trying Ronnie: trying not to cry is as far as it goes yeah Joe: even my kiddy medicine cuts that shit off Joe: ain't been able to since I was 12 Joe: not that there was much call for it, my perfect life with mummy dearest Ronnie: the other week before you met me then Ronnie: gutted i broke your streak Joe: you sure you ain't interested in little fucking kids Joe: rearrange that sentence and Freud is having a field day Ronnie: make the effort to get here before i start to rot Ronnie: not trying to make that cunts day or yours Joe: you'd have liked him Ronnie: he rich off peddling that bullshit to the masses Joe: yeah and he reckoned cocaine was the cure for heroin addiction so he really knew a good time Ronnie: sounds like my not boyfriend Joe: oh yeah? Joe: well his grandson was cooler Joe: he fucked kate moss when he was like 70 Ronnie: anyone written a song about that Joe: maybe pete did Joe: he was a painter though so he painted her with her kit off, obviously Joe: reckon it's free for us to give it a crack Ronnie: your girlfriend painted you yet or what Joe: she wants to Ronnie: no shit mckenna Ronnie: every cunt there nearly fucking went arse over tit in the puddle she was sat in at that gig Joe: so that's what that sticky feeling was Ronnie: her juices or charlies Joe: that's called mixed media Joe: potential bio-hazard for her profs though Ronnie: worst theyre gonna get off her is thrush Ronnie: never met a bitch so clean Joe: yeah Joe: boring Ronnie: i told you to kill her last time you started being a baby about it Joe: you can have homicidal, sis Joe: boring but harmless Ronnie: cocaines harmless after heroin you & freud are still pussy enough to call it a party Joe: why it's a cure Joe: get you from comatose to semi-functioning Ronnie: she could be a cure too Ronnie: cold turkey Joe: weren't searching for a cure Joe: am i coming in or are you coming out Joe: can't see you Ronnie: cause youre comatose Ronnie: gutted this ex boss aint a cokehead Joe: not far off Joe: he your not boyfriend or is that just what we're telling the wife Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: he couldnt fund your baby habit nevermind mine Joe: we going there first then Ronnie: yeah Joe: if we get your wages, we don't have to Joe: [come in boy] Ronnie: [a look like go on impress me by getting these wages boy] Joe: [when you can give it social worker chat 'cos what Tess does and the whole beeline of it all like you can be convincing enough that he's breaking some kind of equality law by sacking her without pay lol] Ronnie: [love that for you Joseph even if she won't let you know she's impressed and also lowkey triggered by that social worker energy] Joe: [honestly, lbr this man surely just wants you gone, won't take too much persuading] Ronnie: [literally and he's clearly in some way shady if he's 1. employed her and also 2. not called the police on her rn] Joe: [no leg to stand on sir, love this shakedown for you] Ronnie: [I bet they're all illegals and people being exploited] Joe: [its a mood, as in happens all the time esp. in cities, least you can hit him up again lads, long as he don't get y'all beaten up or something lol] Ronnie: [tbf if you do get beaten up that's a mood too] Joe: [yeah, when they find out you are not social and just taking their money lol] Ronnie: [love a scam] Joe: [the kind of nonsense have your mother rolling in her grave she's not in, love that we're starting that now] Ronnie: [I approve of the vibe, start as you mean to go on lads, all before you've made his poor flatmate wanna die lol] Joe: [poor gal did not ask for you as a flatmate let alone all this lol] Ronnie: [do you wanna skip to like when she's back and Ronnie's in his room or whatever because easy way to keep the convo going without needing it to be face to face] Joe: [works for me henny] Ronnie: [your turn to start boo] Joe: doubt she'll leave her room any time soon now Ronnie: 💔 Joe: yeah poor girl Joe: saying you got free reign, if you need anything Ronnie: i had it before Ronnie: not scared of her like Joe: nah Joe: what about charlie then Joe: or you just don't wanna upset him Ronnie: yeah terrified Ronnie: well sleuthed nancy Joe: that he'll get sick of you, maybe Ronnie: i fucking told you we aint the kind of family who get rid Joe: yeah Ronnie: dont project onto me Ronnie: we aint nothing alike Joe: i'm the one sick of them Joe: if anything Ronnie: yeah & he aint fuck all like you either Joe: I can see that Ronnie: youve seen him once dont flatter yourself Joe: and it's that obvious Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: what? Joe: i only need to know one half the equation to know we're not the same Joe: it's a compliment to him if fuck all else Ronnie: give it to him then Ronnie: hell lap it up Joe: i told you it's nice Joe: what you lot got Joe: but i'm not looking to get in on it if that's what you reckon Ronnie: take what you want pussy Joe: that's not your thing? Ronnie: what we cant both do it Joe: potentially Ronnie: dont remember you having any hesitation to share a needle Ronnie: grow a pair when youre not getting shot up Ronnie: maybe the dayll come when i dont have to spoon feed you the gear like a fucking kid Joe: i'd have to work out if i want anything but first Ronnie: yeah Joe: is it all you want Joe: the heroin Ronnie: mind your fucking business Joe: alright Joe: do you want to do my next tattoo or what Ronnie: i said take what you fucking want Joe: [come through with ink you've undoubtedly stole from your flatmate, also being more spacey/twitchy than normal like distract me gal] Ronnie: [love how old school & gross we're kicking this tattoo situation unlike when Ali does it] Joe: [which is absolutely the point, how your arms and legs don't fall off lol] Ronnie: [their other ones probably wouldn't have even healed yet cos lbr it's gonna be no time in between these interactions] Joe: [just loads of lowkey open wounds, like that isn't life anyway] Ronnie: [mhmm they'd be fucked already too cos they are so itchy when they are healing and y'all don't have chill] Joe: [all the reason for constant touch ups/ messing with so it casually never heals #mood] Ronnie: [I didn't think of that but I stan] Joe: [casual metaphor for your everything lads] Ronnie: [you know you can do anything to her tattoowise yourself Joseph she don't care] Joe: [probably doing some weird repitition moment you'd usually do on yourself which will be painful af excuse you] Ronnie: [she do love the pain you're fine] Joe: [good thing too, we're just here fucking each other up like this ain't gonna go anywhere else lolllllll] Ronnie: [way more #into it than I should be considering I don't  even like when people shout lol] Joe: [you babby, they are not, obviously we're getting and taking drugs even if she's too naive to know why they're in such a state, maybe they can make a dealer come to them when they're feeling fancy/have already had loads lol] Ronnie: [take a moment to appreciate how few clothes she is wearing rn and how much that means this poor gal can and would see like we've got track marks and self harm scars for days even before you start on the tattoos lol, you're gonna get clued in before she leaves hen] Joe: [honestly props for not running home screaming tbh babe] Ronnie: [especially when this dealer comes because he ain't Drew like he should be scary af] Joe: [lowkey makes you work for it even when you're paying 'cos hates junkies] Ronnie: [at least she can basically fuck him in full view for Joe's benefit because the vibe is already there haha] Joe: [i truly love thinking about what the hell you're telling the flatmate when she leaves, she's not that stupid, also must fancy you if she doesn't report you immediately lol] Ronnie: [she definitely does that's not just Ronnie's bpd jealousy shining through like did you tell her you were related after the gig or what even Joseph what's the narrative] Joe: [also, entirely unrelated, when you bleaching your hair 'cos it looks so much better lol, anyways, he's probably had to go with a troubled sister narrative 'cos she's the type to be sympathetic and it makes sense why he'd deal from her pov] Ronnie: [that's gonna make the obvious sexual tension awkward but yeah I vote they definitely do it while she's staying because same vibe as the tattoo sesh so] Joe: [ikr, when you're blatantly fucking this will be very confusing, you should deffo only be about 1st year lol] Ronnie: [are you gonna give him another different flatmate in year 2 or like none?] Joe: [maybe for year 2  on you can still have some like a house share moment but he's the one you never see and has nothing to do with you] Ronnie: [that works definitely cos like I was just thinking how could he afford somewhere on his own] Joe: [yeah, even if we're technically employed whilst in uni by the orchestra, it's not gonna be loads, and that's how London be even if you're not a student] Ronnie: [how long do we think she should stay for this time because obvs she's coming back again and again but] Joe: [hmm, like he isn't gonna tell her to go so it's on her for how long she can deal lol] Ronnie: [just cos I'm thinking she should leave because something happens/almost does and it freaks her out because she's meant to hate him and there's only so much you can play off as doing for shock value when you're blatantly into it] Joe: [that makes sense, clearly it ain't gonna take long for that to transpire] Ronnie: [yeah a few days is what I'm imagining, but like enough that she probably thinks nothing will happen because it hasn't so far, if that makes sense] Joe: [i'm with it] Ronnie: [how far do we wanna go is always the question] Ronnie: [okay idea time, hear me out hun, what if it's like an unexpectedly pure/cute moment by their standards that happens in the day to day because the obvious would be to have them go all in when they are fucked up but like think about it] Joe: [that's what I thought too though 'cos it's more impactful 'cos it isn't as if it's gonna start with a kiss when it does for real like it's all extra and them to cover that it's about anything but being fucked up, so that would shake you both] Ronnie: [so glad we're on the same page here, like I can't think of a good example of what I mean/think should happen but] Joe: [we know the vibe, doing something vaguely domestic before realizing what you're doing] Ronnie: [so she gotta run away and nobody is gonna know where she is or what she's doing for a bit soz Charlie & Bronson] Joe: [you wanna skip to that time period now, this hasn't been excessively long or anything[ Ronnie: [we totally can because we can always skip back/add it if we think of anything else we wanna do while she's there etc] Ronnie: [I've had a potential idea how to start this so neither of them technically has to bite the bullet and go first like if you give me a rough idea what kind of thing Charlie would say e.g where are you/are you dead bitch and I'll reply here like she's in the wrong convo lol] Joe: [that's a good idea boo, probably something like you can stop hiding now and an update about whatever the fuck he's up to in his life which you can make up you know the vibe lol] Ronnie: [I was just like realistically if they were both shook by what happened neither of them are gonna be like oh hey] Joe: [yeah like it'd take him a while even if he would 'cos not just gonna let this go that easy, so it's a solid way to do it] Ronnie: a real scouse ma's meant to shout down the street when its time to stop playing about Ronnie: lazy cunt Joe: I'm only half if I'm anything, and you probably won't give me that any rate Ronnie: 🖕 not talking to you Ronnie: got the wrong gaylord Joe: easy mistake Joe: you not got his number saved? Ronnie: if this was my phone yeah Joe: newly acquired then Ronnie: mine broke Joe: my condolences Joe: wall or pavement? Ronnie: what the fuck does it matter Joe: just making conversation whilst you're here Ronnie: if youve got something to say go ed Ronnie: but if youre gonna pussy out as per it got waterlogged Joe: you dying for the uni update like my ma is a top performance, cheers, like Joe: rice didn't work or you didn't fancy eating toilet water rice after Ronnie: loads in common me & her aint just a pretty face like Ronnie: dont know what kind of fucking 12 year old in a k hole at a festival you take me for mckenna Joe: yeah, it's a shame Joe: soph says save some for the 🐎s Ronnie: cold showers work better for misery boners than they do a suspected od but these fucking amateurs aint know jack shit obviously Ronnie: shame & shameful that is Joe: I'm a better sesh companion Ronnie: ill take the 🐴 Ronnie: whole or in bits Joe: seems the possessive type Ronnie: thats your bitch Joe: who I meant but I ain't claiming her Ronnie: bet shed be made up over a uni update Joe: bold of you to assume we haven't had many delightful lunch dates whilst you've been having cold showers Ronnie: give a fuck if youve been eating her out at any time of day Joe: yeah well I'm pretty gutted you've replaced me with another newbie Ronnie: stop fucking crying Ronnie: i aint running a nursery Joe: ain't the only one sounds of your reply Ronnie: fuck off Joe: reckon he's over you getting the sack now Ronnie: not everythings about that mary Ronnie: & he aint my keeper Joe: just your mum, I got the message Ronnie: he reckons he can baby me it aint the same thing Joe: he's older than you yeah Ronnie: youve got a sister other than me dont act like you cant get your head round it Joe: not really my M.O. Ronnie: special yeah Joe: she's got a dad and another brother happy enough to oblige Ronnie: i dont need to puke up my good time Joe: thought your stomach and nerve were meant to be stronger than that Ronnie: whatever you think about me is bullshit baby Joe: just what you've put out there Ronnie: & yours is heroics just warning you this aint no od like Ronnie: aint gotta press eject Joe: you're typing Joe: don't think anyone knows you well enough to commit to the impression here Ronnie: talking Ronnie: everyone knows idle hands are dangerous Ronnie: but that dont mean i gotta keep em busy typing Joe: yeah Joe: know the feeling Ronnie: its used to my accent & everything Ronnie: more than i can say for the live cunts here Joe: you in 💘 with your phone that's dead cute Joe: its worse when you're angry Ronnie: not in 💘 with kent Ronnie: your girlfriend proper missold it Joe: fuck off are you in kent 😂 Ronnie: fucked you over if you were gonna come carry me out again Joe: acting like you didn't ask Joe: if you're going to now, do it, like Ronnie: if you dump her back home who the fucks keeping the leccy on Joe: only got a baby habit ain't I Ronnie: what so youre carrying me out & dumping me where Ronnie: anywhere near & im taking your money shithead Joe: we don't need electric Ronnie: how will you get off on me wearing your mams face in the dark Joe: would hate to waste your hard work, obviously Ronnie: what hard work Joe: liberating my mums face from her skull Ronnie: be my pleasure Ronnie: all play Joe: alright then Joe: i'll be able to keep up Ronnie: big talk for a 12 year old virgin Joe: hiding it kent you can't talk or type about it Ronnie: im not fucking hiding Joe: yeah right Ronnie: plain sight baby Joe: 40 miles Ronnie: & Joe: if you wanna play, you're gonna have to give me another clue Joe: know if i'm getting warm Ronnie: [a blurry picture clue] Ronnie: 💘 Joe: they new friends or old Ronnie: waste of a question Joe: how many do i have left Ronnie: 39 but if you need that many dont fucking bother Joe: you don't wanna disappointed so bad Ronnie: you disappoint me by coming out the same hole Joe: that don't have to matter Joe: plenty have Ronnie: yeah but i aint met the rest of your happy family Joe: you wanna Ronnie: 38 now Joe: it could've been a statement Ronnie: was it Joe: 39 for you Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: you wanted to go to the beach Ronnie: that a question or what soft lad Joe: ?* Ronnie: didnt know there was 1 Joe: it's a county you know Ronnie: how the fuck would i know that Ronnie: shut up Joe: do you wanna go to the beach Ronnie: i can drown you in the sink Joe: i didn't put you in the shower Joe: or your phone Ronnie: youd have been made up by how blue i went though Ronnie: well like a dead girl Joe: yeah? Joe: what's it feel like Ronnie: youll get your own go Ronnie: aint holding your hand forever like Joe: gutted Ronnie: you wont reckon so when you outgrow that baby habit Joe: i'd mind if you died Ronnie: give you something to cry about Ronnie: youd be fucking into it Joe: nah Joe: people who've got shit to mope on usually don't Joe: enjoy it too much don't I, can't be having it validated, takes the fun out Ronnie: most dont reckon a happy end would be cumming inside their ma Ronnie: youd enjoy having a reason to celebrate or trauma bond depending on her fucking take Joe: our mate freud would disagree Joe: she'd wear black for the rest of her life, if that's what you wanna hear Joe: but counting it as a question, 38 Ronnie: why the fuck would i wanna hear that Ronnie: be boss for her if she never shifted her bastard baby weight like Joe: 37 unless it's rhetorical Joe: i dunno what will make you feel better Ronnie: 38 wasn't a question in the first place you just counted it cause youre a cheating lil bitch Joe: what's the prize and why do you want it so much Ronnie: use your imagination fucks sake Ronnie: why do you always want your hand held Joe: waste of a question Joe: 'cos I'm such a mummy's boy duh Ronnie: if shed let you walk into the road i wouldnt be answering any of your pussy questions Ronnie: 💔 Joe: be a lot easier for all of us Joe: i'll throw myself in front of the tube, fuck up everyone's day Ronnie: ill pick myself up from kent then yeah Joe: oh so you've claimed selfish have you Ronnie: no shit nancy drew Ronnie: fitz is still crying that i 💉 you up Joe: bless Joe: you're not claiming what got me there Ronnie: cant i wasnt fucking there Joe: then don't feel guilty Ronnie: dont fucking flatter yourself Ronnie: could care less Joe: you who's trying Ronnie: taking away a question if youre gonna lie Joe: not 12, not a virgin, don't need you to hold my hand Joe: i wanted to and want to Ronnie: made up horse girl took it while i was away Joe: yeah Ronnie: get yourself checked for 🐴 aids or whatever Joe: could care less is right Ronnie: bullshit youll be gutted if you dick falls off before you put it in your ma Joe: talking about how much you do Ronnie: what are big sisters for Ronnie: ask the other one & hell stutter round how much i dont too Joe: it's not the same Ronnie: you aint special mckenna how many times Ronnie: let your ma feed you that bullshit Ronnie: & fuck knows what youve already caught from my blood Joe: bit late for warnings Ronnie: you had one first time we met like Ronnie: got eyes Joe: exactly Joe: i'm not gonna take the hint Ronnie: too subtle for you yeah Joe: if you think you could be any more blatant Joe: have fun trying Ronnie: i am Ronnie: kent dont know what hit it Joe: i bet Joe: where have you been but some strangers doss house then Joe: and that is a question Ronnie: fuck knows Ronnie: been a blur Joe: you know its about 1,500 square miles yeah Joe: remember one landmark Ronnie: you know youre only getting any fucking answers cause im coming down Joe: we don't have to play this game Joe: if you tell me where you are, you'll be picked up quicker and then you can get whatever you need Ronnie: [a location, lord only knows] Joe: alright Ronnie: for you getting high of your bullshit heroics Joe: if it makes you feel better that you need rescuing Ronnie: do i fuck Joe: then you just wanna see me Joe: either way Ronnie: shut up Joe: what's better for you? Ronnie: your money then your life Joe: very adam ant Joe: and can be arranged Joe: even though you don't have a horse or a car so I'm more of a highwayman than you Ronnie: i aint getting on your gilfriends horse i know where its been Joe: 😏 Joe: you can just admit she's more up for it than you Ronnie: admit youre fucking brain damaged Ronnie: let her be up for hand holding & playing house Joe: what are big sisters for Ronnie: beating the shit out of you Joe: look forward to it Ronnie: yeah youve missed me Joe: not afraid to say it Ronnie: write a song about it Ronnie: no names & you can play it for any bitch Joe: thanks for the hot tip Joe: kill some time on this drive Ronnie: shouldve stuck your judy in the boot Ronnie: be eye spy & red car the whole fucking way Joe: haven't put the plastic sheet down Joe: 💔 short notice Ronnie: so torch it Ronnie: i know youve always got a lighter on you Joe: what gave it away Ronnie: ive got eyes baby Joe: try not to wear it on my sleeve though Ronnie: done a shit job there Joe: why do you show yours off Ronnie: whats the point of only feeling it on the inside Joe: doing it is feeling it on the outside Ronnie: im what they fucking made me they can look at it Joe: that makes sense Joe: yeah Ronnie: what the hell are you scared of Joe: I dunno Joe: doesn't feel like fear Joe: blending in or disappearing has always been preferable Ronnie: & you have the balls to reckon im hiding here Joe: it ain't hiding if no fucker's looking Joe: easier for them and me, like Ronnie: if you gave a shit about easier you wouldnt have looked for me Joe: it was last-ditch attempt Joe: see if you were the same, like all of them too Joe: or not Joe: and you're not Ronnie: cause she ditched me Joe: maybe Ronnie: i didnt have the luxury of blending in Joe: it's not a luxury Ronnie: not when you have it Ronnie: care kids dont Joe: not at all Joe: it was a necessity to not blow my brains out and all i ended up was cracked and wishing i had Joe: you didn't have a family to not belong in Ronnie: & you did em such a massive fucking favour by not ending it all yeah Ronnie: i dont know you or fucking care & i can tell youre desperate to Joe: if she can't get over you, and she never stuck around to know you Joe: it's fuck all to do with the person and everything to do with the label Joe: son, brother Joe: you're meant to care even if life is better or basically the same without Ronnie: good fucking thing i like downers Ronnie: youd ruin an e Joe: cheers Ronnie: get over her for fucks sake Ronnie: keep saying youre not 12 Joe: didn't have that luxury Ronnie: loads more cunts willing to fuck you over Ronnie: live a little like Joe: yeah that'll make it worth it Joe: dead inspirational Ronnie: try your other sister Joe: i'm sure she'd have even more helpful advice Ronnie: take it then Ronnie: ill kill you before i give you a reason to live Joe: you know i ain't fucking looking for one Ronnie: yeah Joe: you need anything Ronnie: i didnt tell you were to get fuck all out of it Joe: apart from a lift Ronnie: what do you reckon Joe: kk Ronnie: 💘 Joe: still not healed Joe: also looks like jobn now Ronnie: anything to make you feel special baby Joe: what I reckon Ronnie: i didnt reckon ocd made you that delusional Ronnie: but when you change it to say jobs youll blend right in Joe: not quite as fitting as when johnny did it Ronnie: whats your girlfriends name Joe: i'll find one to make it fit Joe: josie or jody maybe Ronnie: 💔 no decent gear has a girls name Joe: girls like to party not nod out Joe: gutted Ronnie: ive got a lads name i get why youre confused Joe: you didn't wanna change it Ronnie: you offering up the cash Joe: bit of a waste Joe: just for the paperwork Ronnie: yeah it is Joe: you dunno what to pick Ronnie: swear words aint allowed Joe: don't matter if you're just doing it, telling new people it's your name like Ronnie: not an underage tranny Joe: right Ronnie: bit fucking late now Joe: youre attached Ronnie: i dont care Joe: yeah Ronnie: not what i hate her for Joe: it's a lesser sin Joe: and not the worst name Ronnie: if thats your way of trying to namedrop the others, dont Joe: why would I Ronnie: i dont know you cant really answer why youd do fuck all Joe: i don't need to ask if you want to know them Ronnie: like their names are gonna tell me who they are Joe: like you care Ronnie: like thats ever stopped you Joe: I can't un-find you Joe: but I'm not going to force you to meet any of them or know any more than what's been said Ronnie: no fixed address remember Ronnie: cant make it much fucking easier for you Joe: no, you can't Ronnie: stop crying then Ronnie: you can do better than a car crash Joe: do better Ronnie: yeah like washing up on the beach Ronnie: keep every cunt guessing how you died Joe: see how many beaches I can end up on Ronnie: dead romantic Joe: you can have fun with the hacksaw anyway Joe: least I could do Ronnie: you dont owe me Joe: i do Ronnie: for what Joe: for finding you when you didn't want finding Ronnie: you got the wrong bastard Ronnie: loads of others would be made up Joe: would they? Joe: regardless, I did it for me Ronnie: fuck off trying to take selfish off me Joe: 😏 Ronnie: been a few days since ive used a phone as a weapon Ronnie: keep on if you want it chucked at you Joe: you've promised better than that Ronnie: course you cant last through the foreplay Joe: alright, romantic Ronnie: you fucking wish soft lad Joe: you wish i wished Ronnie: i fucking dont Joe: alright Ronnie: keep the 🕯🌹 for your girlfriend like Ronnie: fuck all i can do with soft Joe: lighters and poppies suit me better as well Ronnie: next tattoos then Ronnie: dont know if itll look like a poppy but fuck it Ronnie: ill cut it out if you dont like it Joe: even if we avoid the sleeve, still a lot of skin to ruin Joe: are you just going over now Ronnie: waste of a question Ronnie: theres fuck all you can do Joe: what, my scribbles weren't a masterpiece compared to your boyfriends Ronnie: told you get what you pay for mckenna Ronnie: & that i dont get hard for mozart & the like Joe: weren't gonna score a symphony on you but alright Joe: no touching Ronnie: 💔 Ronnie: you & your baby habit dont score Joe: just pays Ronnie: dead comforting when i get robbed & left in a kent ditch Joe: it'll be the nicest ditch you've ever been in Ronnie: squatters rights Joe: my bed ain't comfy enough Ronnie: its the fact that its yours making me wanna hang myself with a sheet Ronnie: should say its too soft like you though shouldnt i Ronnie: gutted i fucked that up like Ronnie: we were playing so nice Joe: yeah, goldilocks suits Ronnie: unless your hair has fallen out Joe: I've not pulled it out either Joe: or soph, like Ronnie: not enough like a mane for her Joe: 💔 Joe: if only she'd have known me a few years ago Ronnie: get the family album out shell be made up Joe: shed a tear over our lack of horse Joe: sympathy fuck is better than none yeah Ronnie: the lack of me will really get her going Ronnie: had the pity eye fuck soon as i showed up Joe: she's an empath, babe, why she's so good at art Joe: lack of you might be an issue for me though Ronnie: another word for nosy cunt Joe: undoubtedly Joe: if i could sum up what was wrong with me for her I would Joe: but guess she likes the guessing Ronnie: if she was scouse shed just fucking come out with it Joe: gobshites, yeah Ronnie: what you get for having girlfriends who aint even wool Ronnie: self hatred making you go posh about it Joe: my last actual girlfriend was Ronnie: & youre claiming her Joe: not still writing songs about her Joe: well, never was Ronnie: shell still be 💔 Joe: nah Ronnie: you keep her waiting this long or am i that special Joe: you don't even know how far you've gone from london Joe: you're nearly 2 hours away Ronnie: if youre sticking to the speed limit Ronnie: stop being a pussy Joe: meet me and the car in the next ditch over Ronnie: more hand holding for fucks sake Joe: more than that if you want that lift Joe: have to drag the car out and hotwire it Joe: scrape me off the windshield Ronnie: i told you to stop getting me & what im into Joe: maybe i'm trying really hard Ronnie: far as hurting yourself goes thats the shittest way to have a go Joe: 💔 too weak Ronnie: keep your limp wrists on the steering wheel Ronnie: i wanna get out of here Joe: 😏 Joe: in a bit then Joe: got speeding to do and if you won't shut up Ronnie: youd have to try harder to make me Ronnie: that aint fucking likely Joe: only have to ask Joe: not nice or nothing Ronnie: i dont ask for handouts theyre given to me on account of all those mental problems ive got Joe: wouldn't it be nice to be the one doing the charity work for once Ronnie: if thats the only high youre offering me turn the fuck around Joe: not that daft Ronnie: your ma tell you that Joe: loads Ronnie: her judgements for shit not getting rid of us both with a hanger Joe: agreed Ronnie: dont put a kid in her shed only keep that one too Joe: still raising the last one Ronnie: like thatd stop her Ronnie: no fucking time wasted Joe: she did stop Joe: hence the 9 year gap oopsie baby Ronnie: reckon shed know what causes it by then Joe: Ireland got to her I guess Ronnie: dead keen for my invite now Joe: put it across as a valid form of contraception Joe: chlamydia Joe: they'd go for it Ronnie: worked for me Joe: postergirl Ronnie: 💔 there was no need to sew myself up Ronnie: be more fun than whichever fuck gave me it Joe: god willing Ronnie: your catholic one would be dead willing Joe: you're thinking of the wrong over-zealous christian country Ronnie: not on the right drugs for that kind of bullshit thinking Joe: 🍄 Joe: look out for cowshit whilst you're waiting Ronnie: that determined for me to see the sights yeah Joe: can't waste such an opportunity Ronnie: 🖕 watch me Joe: kent only comes calling so many times, like Joe: your choice Ronnie: shell be taking you every time uni gives you time off Joe: i'm good for it Ronnie: its well cute that you reckon youve got any say Ronnie: possessive type i heard Joe: 😏 Ronnie: she changed the 🔒 on your room yet Joe: keep you in or out? Ronnie: reckon it ended at the pity eye fuck for me & her Joe: 💔 Ronnie: yeah Joe: i'll talk her 'round for you Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: i dont need you to translate for me Ronnie: we got the money your carer role is over Joe: it's all in the eyes, I heard you Joe: not patronizing on your deep relationship Ronnie: shut up Joe: 🤐 Ronnie: & drive faster Joe: 👌 Ronnie: fucking hell i can see why shes fucking obsessed with you Joe: if you want chat Joe: definitely in the wrong place Joe: she don't need to know my ears aren't listening to hers Ronnie: she already knows you do what youre told without talking back Ronnie: like a battered wife Joe: anything for an easy 💀 Ronnie: youre coming to the right place for that Ronnie: but i wont tell her Joe: it's not a reportable crime Ronnie: im not a snitch & i can wear shades if she tries to eye fuck her way to finding fuck all out Joe: dunno if that's enough of a disguise but I don't care Joe: a habit, she could say something about that Joe: but the rest Ronnie: what rest Ronnie: you only want a habit Joe: speak for yourself Ronnie: im echoing you Ronnie: you fucking said it Joe: you know it's not true though Ronnie: youre full of shit yeah Joe: yeah Joe: you too if you wanna pretend about it Ronnie: i dont play pretend im not a fucking kid Joe: good Joe: then you know what's happening here Ronnie: [a picture or video of whatever is happening where she is, lord knows] Joe: you don't have to reciprocate, dickhead Joe: no need to try and make me crash Ronnie: thought youd grown a set of balls & had em drop while ive been here Ronnie: what it sounded like Joe: how olds the other one Joe: he looks younger than me Ronnie: didnt do a survey Joe: I mean your mate, I don't know his name Joe: not Charlie Ronnie: 17 Joe: he must've been a baby when you met, like Ronnie: whats your point Joe: ain't got one Joe: just wondering Ronnie: youre not his type Joe: he's not mine Ronnie: stop wondering then Joe: why? Ronnie: hes fuck all to do with you Ronnie: your mam didnt push him out Joe: not trying to get to know him over you Ronnie: then why do you care Joe: same age as my brother Joe: and the girl my parents took in, one of Joe: that's it Ronnie: here we fucking go Ronnie: you said you werent gonna do that Joe: you kept asking Ronnie: cause i dont want you fucking nonce my brother Ronnie: give a fuck about yours Joe: 'cos you think I would, alright Joe: don't be stupid Ronnie: i dont know what youd do Ronnie: dont fucking know you Joe: well I'm straight and entirely uninterested Ronnie: youre also full of shit Joe: why do you give a fuck Joe: I'm only a year older, if I wanted to, I would Ronnie: why do i give a fuck that you lied to me or about him Ronnie: go ed & wonder about it Joe: it weren't a lie Joe: shit changes Ronnie: i dont wanna hear about them that aint gonna change Joe: fine Ronnie: fuck you Joe: also fine Joe: sorry, alright Joe: it means fuck all Ronnie: its not fine Ronnie: & it means im gonna be running comparisons in my head Joe: just forget about it Joe: of course they're all around my age ish, it don't mean you know any more about them Ronnie: fucks sake Joe: it don't matter Ronnie: cause you get to tell me what matters too yeah Joe: come on Ronnie: you dont or what to fucking do either Joe: then what Joe: I said it, I said sorry Joe: you do what you must Ronnie: go home & give horse girl your sorry Joe: fuck that Joe: you still need to get back to London and I'm nearly there Ronnie: i got here i can leave here Joe: bullshit Ronnie: you wish Joe: well I'm still coming Ronnie: i dont care Ronnie: youve been going on about how big it is Ronnie: stay the fuck away from me Joe: Jesus fucking christ don't be such a pussy Ronnie: you fucking wish Joe: whatever Joe: this is going nowhere right now Joe: you know where to find me when you wanna actually do something about it Ronnie: your half arsed self destruction is going nowhere Ronnie: do something about that your fucking self instead of trying to bait me Joe: I'm still on my way Ronnie: kents full of real pussys you can save Ronnie: youll 💘 it Joe: I don't give a fuck, Ronnie Ronnie: why are you crying Ronnie: you fucked me over Joe: because this is a waste of time Ronnie: youre a junkie now get used to it Joe: at least I've got that Ronnie: youre welcome baby Joe: good luck finding decent shit in kent Ronnie: not going with you dont mean im staying here Joe: but I've got mine already Ronnie: you can have selfish Joe: I told you I was bringing more for you Joe: if you can get over it you can have your share Ronnie: ill take it over it not Ronnie: *or Ronnie: you cant fucking stop me Joe: say you want me to come then Joe: i know where you are, not the other way 'round Ronnie: youre the liar mckenna Ronnie: i dont want you to be anywhere Joe: then why should I come and share Joe: that's a question Ronnie: you love heroics Joe: [show up at this point] Ronnie: [what a fun little reunion that'll be] Joe: [so, we know the vibes but also do we wanna pitch it out] Ronnie: [we totally can for our own amusement/in case a moment or something happens again] Joe: [so obviously he gets there and she's gonna be fuming hens, yeah?] Ronnie: [she gonna fight him lol enjoy that random peeps] Ronnie: [but that works cos like if someone takes that seriously instead of realising we just flirting with each other then they gotta go] Joe: [go away for some alone time to take your drugs somewhere, we voting beach] Ronnie: [yeah because realistically nobody will be there at this o clock unless they are likewise up for shady shit so it works for them as well as being romantic for us because has she been to the beach before probably not] Joe: [so unintentionallly wholesome] Ronnie: [try not to freak out immediately about that this time lads] Joe: [or OD again] Ronnie: [or freeze to death because when are you ever dressed for the weather gal] Joe: [have to stay close purely for warmth whoops] Ronnie: [can't pretend you're angry enough to be at the other end of the beach its not that deep] Joe: [shame it'll be too late to get fish n chips or something beach related but you can skim stones] Ronnie: [I wonder if there's anywhere you could break into because always a mood] Joe: [on a lot of seafronts they have those shelter moments that are boarded up you know what I mean] Ronnie: [yeah that was what I had in mind] Joe: [was that tracy beaker when jess and that girl were snuggled in there and tracy thought it was a lad lollol] Ronnie: [I loved that bit] Joe: [soz i've forgotten your name but that whole character and vibe was a mood, buzzing for the show/movie whatever they're doing] Ronnie: [a child Tess mood 100%] Joe: [fosho fosho, you're gonna have to sleep on this beach/his car 'cos not letting you drive in that state for that long yet tah] Ronnie: [we all know you're gonna be snuggling and I'm here for it, maybe you can get fish and chips in the am/when you wake up] Joe: [for breakfast lol, get all the sugary snacks as well like candy floss doughnuts, casual binge here like neither of you clearly eats much day to day] Ronnie: [healthwise you've both got bigger problems so we can allow it] Joe: [sugar high, living for unintentional wholesomeness lol] Ronnie: [love the childlike vibe always] Joe: [when I go the hunstanton with the gals, which is like, scummy seaside vibes you know, there's always rides there, but also there was like a tattoo hut where you could get actual tattoos for like a fiver and it looks so dubious lol] Ronnie: [omg that is amazing and we must] Joe: [you could get piercings too which might have him do just to mess with it] Ronnie: [we know she already has so likewise not gonna resist getting another, the more extra the better though placement wise cos we do love to shock joseph with our endeavours] Ronnie: [whack a tit out casually or whatever like] Joe: [lmao, dreading these infections hens] Ronnie: [I went to margate and all I got was this lousy tat and a persistent infection, put that on a t-shirt] Joe: [shame they only do flashes gals] Ronnie: [get some DIYing happening lads, we know that kind of thing is flirting for you] Joe: [the tension at this point like you've actually shown loads of restraint even though the opposite seems true lol] Ronnie: [lowkey not what anyone would expect of you which is why I like it] Joe: [mhmm not actually all doom and gloom even if we say and pretend it or what would be the point] Ronnie: [they'd actually be having such a lovely time and when was the last time either of them did, I'm fine about it yep] Joe: [truly, it ain't just about the drugs or any of the 'fucked up ness' from the off and that's the tea no one else be seeing] Ronnie: [mhmm and it wouldn't last how it does if it was] Joe: [connection huns] Ronnie: [the TENSION on this car journey back like don't crash tbh] Joe: [at least you can play really loud music and pretend that's distraction enough] Ronnie: [and play with your new injuries] Ronnie: [lowkey bonding even more about your love of music though we see you] Joe: [mhmm, when it's not all classical obvs 'cos you aren't Rosaline] Ronnie: [probably drop her at Charlie's hun cos otherwise something is gonna happen] Joe: [hope you brought him some rock but i know you did not lol, go make friends again, you go think 'bout your life joseph] Ronnie: [probably stole him a postcard that you've written some bants on to slide under his door] Joe: [that's cute, hilarious over-sexual postcard as they always are] Ronnie: [yeah exactly and then he knows you're back so you can talk or whatever you're gonna do to clear the air] Joe: [that's this era in general we know the vibe]