#when i made this i wasn’t expecting to actually post every day until the 18th 😭

[saturngalore]

FORTUNA DEBUT SCHEDULE 🍀

[alphajocklover]

Unmoved

**beta read by my friend J-bro. Had to post on mobile cause tumblr was being weird. Hope it still looks good**

For the 11th time in his life, Maxwell Hawthorn was moving.

It was his senior year of highschool, shortly after Maxwell’s 18th birthday, and once again Maxwell was moving. The Hawthorns, which consisted of Maxwell, his parents, and his younger brother Chase, were a military family, Maxwell's father being a low level General. Even for military families, the Hawthorns moved a lot. Where most military families moved every two to four years, the Hawthorns moved almost annually, much to Maxwell's frustration. Since he was 5 years old he had moved nearly every year, each time moving to a different state and a different school with a different house. When he was younger Maxwell had been a friendly, adventurous kid who easily made friends, but after making friends just to lose them over and over again Maxwell had formed an anti-social, almost jaded personality. He never got close to anyone anymore, almost always keeping to himself. He kept his room almost completely bare, since he knew he’d probably need to move eventually, and avoided connections. Even his hobbies, mainly sketching and writing, were done alone. Until recently Maxwell had been resigned to the fact that he would probably not make any meaningful friendships till college. But there was something different about this move. He wasn’t just moving, he was moving back.

Willistown was where Maxwell had spent his final 2 years of middle school, and despite only having stayed there 2 years it was the place Maxwell had been most reluctant to leave. It had been before highschool started, so his spirit hadn’t been completely crushed yet, and unlike many of his other schools he had actually been able to make friends. Hell, he had been almost popular. He had actually connected with people and gotten out of his shell. Maxwell had been crushed when he had to leave. He tried to keep in touch with his friends, but he hadn’t heard from Leon or Marigold, his two best friends from Willistown Middle school but he hadn’t heard from either of them in years. Leon had been like a brother to Maxwell, one who shared his love of art and his social awkwardness, well Marigold had been his first crush and girlfriend (though, as it was a middle school relationship, all they did was hold hands). Despite losing touch, Maxwell hoped his old friends would make the final year of highschool more bearable, or maybe even enjoyable.

As Maxwell entered his second class at Willistown high he was worried he had been too hopeful. So far no one had recognized him, or even seemed to remember him. It had probably been too much to expect everyone to welcome him warmly or act like he was an old friend. It had been 3 years after all, and he didn’t remember everyone either. Still he was starting to worry that maybe he had gotten his hopes up too high. Homeroom had been boring as hell, and the school seemed pretty obsessed with sports. The upcoming football season for the Willistown Wolves was all anyone could talk about. Still he hoped he could find someone who remembered him.

“Max?”

Maxwell looked up from his sketchbook to see a truly impressive sight. The jock in front of him was over 6 feet tall, with long dark black hair and piercing sapphire blue eyes. He had a sharp jawline, a charming smile, and bulging muscles that were hidden by his letterman jacket. Maxwell could immediately tell that this was the big man on campus, the stereotypical golden boy, the prom king. This was-

“Leon?” Maxwell realized in shock, almost dropping his sketchbook

“Hell yeah bro! It’s been years dude, how the fuck are you?” The large jock said as he took Maxwell into a bro-hug that Maxwell, in his shock, responded to in kind. “The hell are you doing here man, I haven’t seen you in years!”

“I, I moved back. Today's my first day. I tried to tell you but I guess you changed your phone number or something.” Maxwell sheepishly said “Leon, what… happened to you?” Maxwell asked in shock

Leon cockily flexed one of his biceps, letting it strain the fabric of his jacket “Hehe, yeah, I guess I have changed over the years. Joined the football team in freshman year. Turned out I was a natural athlete.” Leon said. “But look at you man, you haven’t changed a bit. Still got your head stuck in your sketchbook and shit.” Leon said with a deep, slightly dull chuckle.

Maxwell was in shock. The nervous, artistic kid he had been best friends with had been replaced by a huge, cocky, arrogant jock. He didn’t expect Leon to be the same guy he was 3 years ago, but he hadn’t expected him to change that much. He was unrecognizable, and looked like he’d probably have more in common with the jocks who usually made Maxwell’s life hell than he would with Maxwell.

“Bro, we need to hang out after school sometime. Catch up and shit. I got football practice afterschool today but we can meet up after that.” Leon said with a charming smile, playfully punching Maxwell’s shoulder in a way that really hurt. Maxwell scowled at the punch, but held his tongue. This was Leon. He had been his best friend. Even if he was a dumb jock now, Maxwell had to give him a chance.

“Uh, sure. I’ll see you then…” Maxwell said quietly. Leon grinned a charming grin and strut over to his own desk.

Art class had been… interesting. Maxwell had spent most of the class watching Leon chat with his fellow jocks, thinking about how much his old friend had changed. It was clear that 3 years hadn’t just changed Leon physically, but mentally as well. Leon seemed to have lost all interest in art, and was only taking art for an easy A. As Maxwell made his way to the cafeteria for lunch he wondered how his friend had changed so much. 3 years was a long time, but it still seemed like a drastic change in personality. Maxwell was so lost in thought he almost walked straight into… one of the most attractive girls he ever met. Long blonde hair, beautiful green eyes, pouty red lips, d cup tits and a juicy ass, she looked like she had walked right out of a teenage boy's wet dream. Maxwell was so flustered he nearly didn’t recognize her

“Oh my god, Marigold?” Maxwell asked in shock. The blonde in front of him gave a haughty sneer as she looked over Maxwell. Thoroughly unimpressed “Uh, it’s Marie. And who exactly are you?” Maxwell, shocked by her entitled tone, looked at her in shock for a moment. Before he could answer another familiar voice interrupted

“Marie, babe! There you are.” Leon said, strutting over to the blonde without acknowledging Maxwell. He grabbed her by the hips, his manly fingers sinking into her juicy ass, and kissed her deeply and dominantly. Marie almost moaned into the kiss, a submissive, lust filled look coming over her

“Hey baby…” she said, slightly breathless as, after what seemed like forever, the kiss ended. Leon grinned cockily, and finally noticed the shocked Maxwell

“Oh hey Max! Didn’t see you there bro!” Leon said with a charming grin as he put his arm around Maries waist

“Max?” Marie asked, sudden recognition shining in her eyes. She grinned, a happy unrestrained grin that made her look completely different from before and reminded Maxwell of the nerdy girl he had dated “Oh my god, it’s been years! What are you doing here Max?” She asked kindly

Leon answered before Maxwell could “Max just moved back babe! We’re going to be spending senior year with him!” He said excitedly.

“It’s Maxwell.” Maxwell corrected, his voice slightly shy. “And… yeah, I’m spending my senior year as a Willistown Wolf.” Marie lit up at this.

“That's totally awesome Max! I mean, Maxwell.” The blonde said perkily

���You too Marigold. Or should I say Marie?” Maxwell asked, a questioning look on his face. Marie blushed slightly, as if being reminded of an embarrassing old memory

“Yeah. I decided to start going by Marie about 2 years back. Marigold was a little… frumpy, you know?” She said with a bashful smile. Maxwell nodded in agreement, even though he didn’t really agree. What was wrong with Marigold? He always thought that name was pretty. He changed the subject, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were.

“... So… Since I’m new here, and I don’t have many friends… would you guys mind if I sat with you?” Maxwell asked. Leon and Marie’s faces fell almost in unison, and an awkward feeling came over the trio. Leon was the first to speak.

“Uh, sorry bro. The people we hang out with these days can be kind of… picky, about who sits with them. You gotta prove yourself to them before they let you in. Marie and I have a reputation and shit now and…”

Maxwell didn’t need to hear anymore. Each word was like a dagger to his heart. He tried to keep his emotions in check as he answered, but failed to stop the crack in his voice. “Oh. It’s ok. I understand. I’ll just… go.” Maxwell said, turning and running off, tears rolling down his face as he did. He could hear Leon and Marie yelling for him, but he didn’t stop till he got to the bathroom.

Maxwell's first day as a senior officially sucked. Not only had he been rejected by his two former best friends, but everyone in the cafeteria had seen him running away from them crying. Rumors about what was going on between the two most popular people and school and the geeky new kid were already circling, and none of them showed Maxwell in a good light. Some people said he was a stalker who had been confronted by the couple, others said he was a pervert who had propositioned them. He heard one rumor that he was an old ex, which was technically true but not the reason he had run away. The details changed but the general consensus was that Maxwell was a loser who had deserved whatever he got. His social life was dead in the water.

As soon as Maxwell got home he headed up to his bedroom without a word to his family and went to sleep. The day had been exhausting and he had lost all hope that this year was going to be any better than the one before. He needed to just… be unconscious for a while. By the time Maxwell woke up it was late at night, if the night sky he could see through his bedroom window was any clue. Maxwell sighed. He couldn’t believe how fucked everything had gotten. His eyes locked on a particularly bright star. Without thinking, Maxwell made a wish “... I wish I had never moved away from Willistown…” As he spoke the star got brighter and brighter…

And in a flash, everything was different.

Maxwell woke up slowly, his eyes not yet open. Something was… different. His head felt funny, his body felt heavy, but what was really bothering Maxwell was… the warm feeling surrounding his cock. Maxwell’s eyes slowly opened at first, but shot open as he took in the sight in front of him. Sleeping soundly next to him, completely naked, with her pussy surrounding his cock, was Marie. In shock Maxwell tried to pull out, moving backwards, but found a shiver of pleasure go through him as he felt something inside his ass rub against his sweet spot. Did someone have a cock in his ass? Before Maxwell could panic he felt the muscular arm of whoever was inside him reach over his side and grab at one of his pecs as that someone also kissed his neck. The man spoke, his familiar voice sending shivers of pleasure down Maxwell’s spine.

“Hey babe. You ok? You seem tense.” Leon said, his voice so sensual and erotic that Maxwell almost moaned. He answered without thinking, his voice deeper than he remembered

“Yeah, I’m ok. Just excited for today. First day of senior year only happens once. I mean, hopefully.” Maxwell said, before he and Leon both let out an identical dumb chuckle.

What was happening?! Why was Maxwell having sex with Leon and Marie? As Maxwell internally panicked, memories suddenly flooded his mind.

Maxwell, or Max as most people called him, never moved away after middle school. He went into highschool with his best bro Leon and his girlfriend Marigold by his side. Maxwell’s friendly, adventurous personality made him just as popular in highschool as he had been in middle school, but it was when he and Leon joined the football team together that their popularity really took off. Leon’s story, about joining the football team and turning out to be a natural athlete, was true, but now it included Max joining the team right alongside him. Leon was the quarterback, and Max was his left tackle. Together they were the perfect team. As they got more and more into football their bodies changed, packing on muscle, they became even more popular. It didn’t take long until Max and Leon were the two most popular jocks in school. Marigold had gone through a similar glow up and was the school's head cheerleader. By the end of sophomore year the three ruled the school, and Max was the king.

It had been halfway through junior year that Max got together with Leon. He and Marigold had been dating for years now, and they had long come to the agreement that Max’s massive cock couldn’t be handled by one person. Leon, Max’s best bro, seemed like the only rational choice and quickly proved to be a natural cock sucker. Soon the three were a power throuple, and now, at the start of their senior year, they were ready to take on the world.

Max smirked as he remembered this, and looked down at his new body. Bulging muscles, gigantic pecs and biceps, an 8 pack of abs and a footlong cock that was currently fucking his girlfriend. He looked around his room, seeing his weight set, his football gear, his football trophies, and his multiple naked sketches of Leon and Marigold. Slowly Marigold came too, kisses Max deeply as Leon teasingly kissed his neck

“Are you ready for senior year?” Marigold asked.

Max smirked, looking at his partners “... fuck yeah I am.” High in the sky, invisible in the daylight, a supernova blazed, another wish having been granted.

[mistress-ofmagic]

Around the Realms in 80 days - Chapter 19

Pairing: Reader x Loki

Story summary: You have fallen through a portal during the convergence into Asgard and come face to face with Thor, and his brother Loki. With no way to return, you must travel with the two men and their hoard of asgardian soldiers to get back home. Things get from bad to worse when you have to share a tent with the god of mischief himself.

Notes: 'Ey up! Phew, this chapter felt strangely frustrating to write at times, it wasn't always doing what I wanted it to do! I know I promised the fire realm this chapter but the words sort of wanted to do their own thing instead! Also a lot of this is not proof read (very sorry for some inevitable grammar and spelling errors). Am I posting this now instead of waiting so I can claim I actually uploaded this month? Yes? Anyway I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

Read this story on a03!

find all parts to this story on Tumblr here

“Okay guys, get into your positions we’re going to have a practice of the elbow grip…”

You groaned inwardly, hating every second of your current predicament. 

T minus 1 day until your trip to the fire-realm, and Stark had decided to shove you into a corporate self-defence class to probably make himself feel better about sending you to your doom the very next day. 

Unfortunately, the rest of the avengers were not around today, out and about doing what you could only assume was top secret avenger business.

Which meant, of course, that no one was available to babysit Loki, so, in a classic move that completely coincided with your luck so far, Loki was joining you on the self-defence course. 

To be fair, Loki seemed to be enjoying this even less than you did, mumbling every so often under his breath about “idiotic mortals” and sending deathly looks at poor old Darren doing the training. 

Darren, in his defence, was a pretty formidable guy. You don’t get to be security for Stark for nothing mind you, but you doubted he had ever had to face an extremely pissed off Asgardian warrior god with a hatred for humans who would rather be doing literally anything else than a self-defence class. 

It was pretty demeaning, which is probably why Stark had rubbed his hands with glee like a cartoon villain when he had told Loki he was going to have to spend the best part of his day doing this. 

Loki had argued that he could just stay in his room or do some training of his own, but Stark insisted that because no one was around to check he wasn’t “coming up with a nefarious plan to take over the world” every now and then, he had to stay under your watchful eye. Loki had then glared at you like this was your fault, and had been in a foul mood all day.

While Loki sulked next to you and passed the odd comment about Darren’s defence methods, you were talking vigilant notes. If you had any hope in literal hell that you were going to survive this, it was better to follow Darrens suggestions. Lest you have another troll incident which you hoped to avoid at all costs. 

The rest of your group split up into twos to practice some of Darrens moves.

You got up and stretched.

“Okay, stand up.” 

“No.”

You had expected this response, but is still made you roll your eyes.  He continued to sprawl across the plastic chair, legs wide open and eyes dark as he stared at you, irritated and bored. 

“Come on, I want to practice on you.”

“You can’t give me commands, little mortal.” He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. An intimidating look for someone who didn’t know him. 

You narrowed your eyes back as you stared down at him.

“Have you finished threatening me? I really want to practice and no one else will partner with you. Believe me, I asked.” You mumbled the last bit under your breath. 

“This is pointless.” He said, for the 18th time that morning.

“For you maybe!” You spoke as loud as you could without attracting too much attention from the rest of the group.

“For me though, this could be a matter of life and death! It’s okay for you lot, you’re all trained in this sort of shit! The most combat training I’ve had is fighting people off for the last profiteroles at the buffet table on New Years Eve!” 

“You do jabber on about such tosh.” 

You ignored him and continued, 

“I could literally die in the next few days Loki. And you’re not even going to give me this chance to at least try and learn some simple manoeuvres that could help me?” You sounded dangerously close to whiney. 

“Norns above, stop screeching.”  He sighed and, to your surprise, stood up. 

 “I could teach you far greater techniques than these to maim an opponent.”

“Well I haven’t got time to learn about taking over a planet today. Let’s just learn some of these helpful grips.” 

You took your placements in front of each other. God he was tall. You suddenly felt a bit nervous standing like this in front of each other. He was also looking at you rather menacingly which wasn’t helping. 

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like…you’re about to kill me.”

“Ah, if that were only possible.” He grinned at you.

You glared at him, unamused. 

“If someone is going to attack you they’re not going to be smiling and joyful.” 

“Well…okay, fine. Just…okay.” 

You looked at him, nervously.

“Are you going to get on with this?” He asked, exasperated. 

“Okay, I’m going to grab you by the elbow now.”

“Don’t announce to your assailant what you are going to do.”

‘I know that, I’m just warning you so you don’t freak out on me.”

You tried to picture in your mind what Darren had been telling you about the grips. If you hold onto someone between the elbow and bicep it’s going to be harder for them to swing at you. Bonus points if you could do it from a “four o’clock position” where they would have to twist in order to get you, giving you a couple of seconds to get away.

You stepped forward to grab ahold of just above his elbows, eyeing him suspiciously and not trusting he wouldn’t fight you back. 

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow.

You placed your hands tentatively on his (rather large) biceps and had to fight the embarrassing temptation not to squeeze them just to feel them under your hands. 

You cleared your throat and practiced the restraint. 

“Okay!” You smiled happily, getting a feel for how to do a simple restraint should it be needed. “Now let’s practice the other grips. You grip my wrists and i’ll get out of it.”  

He rolled his eyes but did what you suggested and took ahold of your wrists.  

When you realised you were basically holding hands with Loki of Asgard, your brain malfunctioned slightly. A sudden dizziness came over you and you felt like giggling like a school girl. Trying desperately not to concentrate on how his cool, slender fingers felt around your wrist you instead tried to focus on remembering how to get out of his hold. 

Unfortunately, the ridiculousness of the situation was taking ahold of you and you were feeling ready to give in to the fit of giggles threatening to overtake you. 

Loki frowned at you. 

“What has overcome you, girl?” 

“Nothing.” You cleared your throat and attempted to act like a serious person.  

You practiced swinging your arms back and twisting them, forcing him to let go of his grip on you. 

“That works!”  You looked up at him and smiled. 

For a brief second, you thought you saw Loki’s stern features soften slightly when you did so, but perhaps you imagined it. 

“I feel like you’re not gripping very hard.” You frowned. “Can you take a firmer gasp of my arm please?” 

Loki tutted, “If I take too strong of a hold, I’ll break your arm you silly chit.” 

“Well okay, don’t do that. Just make it a bit of a challenge for me so that it will be more realistic to when I face the enemies.” 

In a rare moment, Loki actually used your name “You’re not going to be going in and picking a fight with the fire demons.” His face twisted into a smile and you guessed he was imagining that scenario.

“That didn’t stop me from nearly ending up as a light snack for a troll last time.” 

“Look, I- Thor and the others will make sure you are unharmed. Just do what you do best, be observant and pick up on things the rest of them seem to miss about what is going on. There should hopefully be no need for you to engage in any combat.”

“Well I…” You shifted uncomfortably at his surprisingly kind words “I… could engage in combat if I wanted to.” You shot him a glare at the (correct) insinuation. 

“And a fierce warrior you would be, but the best form of defence is to not be in a compromising situation in the first place. Always take an opportunity to leave or hide, despite what idiots such as my brother may say, there is no honour in running headfirst in a battle you are going to loose if you have a chance to get away.”

You mulled on his words. Perhaps running away and hiding sounded much more your style anyway. 

Darren called everyone to listen again. He started talking about a more complex manoeuvre, how to get out if someone strangles you from behind. He demonstrated on a poor volunteer, showing how to pull their arms down, drop their weight and unravel themselves of the hold. 

Oh god, being held in a chokehold by the god of mischief felt a lot scarier than just getting out of grips. You gave a side glance to see how Loki was taking the news. His face gave nothing away. 

You couldn’t decide if he was going to relish the opportunity to strangle you or if he was going to be grossed out by being that close to you. Darren got you back into two’s to practice the move. 

“Okay listen, can you like be nice please? When you’re doing this?” 

Loki gave you a blank look.  

“Like when you, you know, strangle me, can you not actually strangle me please.”

Loki smirked and cocked an eyebrow salaciously.  

“Oh? You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Embarrassingly, you felt your face heat up.

“N…no” You spluttered. “Stop being a perv and choke me.” 

“Never thought I’d hear you utter those words to me little mortal.” He continued to grin in an annoying way and got into position, wrapping his arm around your throat suspiciously quickly.

“Ugh. I think I prefer you threatening to kill me than flirting with me.” You lied out loud, hiding the strange feeling in your stomach that had started to arise. 

What was that feeling? 

Definitely not the time to be exploring it, so you pushed it deep down. 

You pushed his arm down from your neck, pushed your weight down slightly to try and put him off balance and span out of the hold quickly. The manoeuvre worked, you were able to spin out, but you doubted it would be that easy against an opponent who was actually trying to murder you. 

“Not bad.” Loki stated. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “you’re being soft on me, which I know is what I asked you to do. I just feel like, in reality I’m not going to have a chance.” You said, sadly. 

“Absolutely not. Loki of Asgard is never soft.” He said, rigidly. 

“Did you just refer to yourself in the 3rd person?” You snorted. 

Before he had time to reply, Darren had called you back in. He demonstrated a few other techniques such as what to do if someone grabs your hair (lean into them rather than pulling away from them) or bites you (lean in and try and activate their gag reflex by pushing their face to your arm) but for obvious reasons you didn’t try and practice those with your partner. 

By the time the training was over, it was nearly dinner time and your stomach was starting to squeeze as the evening drew in; knowing that it wouldn’t be long until you were on your way to fire realm. 

As you made your way to the kitchen with Loki, he seemed to notice you were feeling worried. 

“Come, let us eat a hearty meal and get a good nights sleep to prepare for tomorrow. You have faced new ventures in the past and have always ended up fine. This is nothing that you haven’t already come across.”

You tried to shake yourself out of your slump.

“This is true. Nothing could be worse than coming across you.” You gave him a light, friendly bump to the arm as you walked next to him. 

Loki looked down at his arm and then you, giving you a strange look. By his stiff reaction, it seemed he was not used to playful shoves. Maybe that was an earth thing, you mused. 

“No, probably not.” He agreed with you, slowly. 

There was an awkward pause, and before you could open your mouth to explain you were bantering with him, Loki said, “excuse me.” And walked off in the other direction. 

“I was joking!” You called after him, but he didn’t look back.

“Bloody sensitive gods.” You muttered, making a mental note to remember that Loki might not always understand earth humour. 

Taking a deep breath, you headed to the kitchen alone. 

                                                                    ***

You stood at the strange, raised pattern on the ground where you had been thrown out when you had arrived back on earth through the Bifrost.  

The plan was to go back to Agard very briefly to meet the Asgardians joining you on your trip and then travel to the fire realm one one of their crafts. The Avengers were staying back, and continuing to look into the wormhole openings across Earth. You were pretty sure Natasha was on her way to Havana right now, while you prepared yourself to go to hell. 

Some people have all the luck. 

“Ready Latte?” Thor gave you a friendly clap on the shoulder that nearly bowled you over.

“Ready as I’ll ever be I suppose.” You sighed. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you stole a quick glance. 

    Oliver: Hope your trip goes okay! Make sure you come back alive so we can check out more of New Yorks art ;) 

You smiled in spite of yourself and quickly formulated a response. 

   You: Wow, maybe now i’ll reconsider my decision to move in with the fire demons. 

You briefly caught Loki looking at you as you looked up from your phone and gave him a small smile which he barely returned. Since the incident after the course yesterday, you hadn’t spoke to him much; that evening he came in very late and then was up early again before you had chance to speak to him properly. What irritated you was that when he did speak, he was eerily polite but brief. He seemed distant somehow, and you were starting to think you preferred an outwardly annoyed Loki to a quiet and detached one. 

You looked up at Thor.

“So when are we setting off?” 

“Momentarily, just waiting for Stark to activate the - “

As he spoke, the pattern started admitting a blue glow, shooting straight up into the atmosphere. 

“Is this any good for the Earths ozone layer?” You asked, watching the tube of light hesitantly, knowing you were going to have to step into it and deal with the sea-sickness that accompanied travelling like that.

“Here we go!” Thor made like he was about to push you in again.

“Ah! Not this time, I’m going to enter it myself.” 

Thor chucked “As you wish my lady” and he stepped into the light. 

You thought you might be able to see him travel up the light, like being sucked up pneumatic tube, but in less than a blink of an eye he was gone. 

“You go next, I’ll follow you in.” Loki nodded at you.

“Okay.” You breathed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath and stepped into the tunnel. 

It was just as awful as you remembered it to be, although this time you were prepared at least. You kept your eyes shut and concentrated not not being sick as you flew through the vortex. 

After what felt like a lot longer than it actually was, you arrived into Heimdall’s keep. Loki was quick to follow in behind you, but you didn’t pay too much attention, placing your hands on your knees and taking some deep breaths. 

“Does that ever get easier?” You choked. 

“Welcome back.” A deep voice spoke in front of you. 

You realised you were staring at a pair of brown boots, standing either side of a large silver point of a sword. You let your eyes draw up slowly as you stood to your height, following the ornate armour up to the golden eyes of the gatekeeper. 

You eyeballed him a little suspiciously, having never really felt you could trust the all seeing God ever since he seemed to refuse to come and pick you up and take you home when you first arrived. 

If you thought about it, really this whole thing was his fault, and you nearly opened your mouth to tell him so when - 

“Latte!” A joyful voice sounded from the entrance. 

“Fandral, Volstagg!” You grinned, happy to see your Asgardian pals.

You quickly walked towards them and Volstagg brought you into a bear hug that nearly squeezed the wind out of you, resulting in a very strange and unintentional yelp on your behalf.

Jesus, you had forgotten how accidentally rough the Asgardians could be.

Loki’s voice cut across the room. 

“Volstagg, you forget your strength, you are going to kill the mortal before we even arrive in Muspelhein.” 

Oh we’re back to “the mortal” are we? 

You turned to him, as he scowled at the scene before him. 

Loki did talk to you that night on the balcony about how being in Asgard was pretty difficult for him and he high key hated being there a lot of the time. All of three minuets had you been back in the realm and he was already resorting to his old tendencies. 

“Loki. Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Fandral quipped. 

“Does he have to come along with us? Surely we’d be more effective without him.” Volstagg asked Thor.

You still felt kind of bad from touching a nerve yesterday, and you knew that being here probably sucked even more for him than it did for you. You considered sticking up for him but thought that it would piss him off more if a lowly mortal jumped to his defence, and might actually embarrass the guy. 

And there’s only so much sympathy you can harbour for someone who just called you “the mortal.” 

Loki rolled his eyes “Oh? You seem to be forgetting the countless times I saved you miserable cretins from certain death, usually by your own idiotic fault because you are all too impertinent to actually think about the danger of situations before you leap head first into them.” 

Before one of them could reply, Thor attempted to placate the situation.

“My friends, let us not forget Loki’s great wit which has helped us through many a battle. We are going to need all the brains we can to deal with Surtur.” Thors stated, grimly.  “Come, let’s not waste anymore time, we shouldn’t stay for too long lest face the wrath of my fathers temper.”  

Thor ushered you out onto rainbow road, but not before you snuck another glance at Heimdall who, disconcertingly, was looking at you back. 

“Ah!” Thor blocked your view of the Golden-eyed God and you looked round to see what he was exclaiming at. 

There were some horses waiting for your party, you assumed they were there to take you to the docks where you would then fly to the fire realm. 

“Can we Bifrost our way to the fire realm?” You asked. 

Fandral laughed uncertainly, “I have never heard the Bifrost be used as a verb.” 

You stared at him blankly. 

“But in any case, it is considered rude to blast our way into another realm, people tend not to take, er, too kindly to us showing up like that unannounced.”

“Not that that’s ever stoped us before.” Volstagg chortled. 

“Other realms have historically been rather touchy about Asgard having a way to travel through the realms so easily when they do not. It’s more polite to arrive through the proper way.” 

You supposed that made sense, it would be kind of annoying seeing another realm flash it’s fancy cool technology you couldn’t use every time it showed up. Sort of like seeing your annoying cousin turn up in their new car every Christmas. 

“Let’s move hastily.” Thor reminded you all again. 

Looking up, you quickly realised you were reminded about having to face riding horses again. Not a feat you had taken quickly to last time. In fact, you were pretty confident your horse riding days were over. 

“I can just walk.” You suggested, pulling a face at the huge beast that stood in front of you. 

Had you ever really thought about how much bigger these horses were compared to the horses on Earth?

Thor laughed heartily as he pulled himself up onto the horse. 

“Don’t worry my lady, you can ride with me.” Fandral winked at you as he offered you his hand. “We can catch up on our way over.” 

Fandral had a way of making even the most innocent things sound dirty. It was also weirdly comforting to see he was still back on his flirting bullshit. 

“There will be no catching up.” Loki stated, apparently already on his horse as he rode over to be slightly closer to you.  “The girl can ride with me. I would not want to subject her to your frivolous ways so early in our escapade.”

You considered referring to Loki as “the boy” but thought better of it incase he got his horse to kick you clean off the rainbow bridge and straight into space. 

“I really could just walk.” You shuffled not wanting to embarrass yourself as you tried to get up.

“Nonsense.” 

Having gotten a little bit closer with Loki, and spending a lot of time bickering with him, often made you forget how strong he really was; that he really was an Asgardian God capable of things beyond your imagination. 

But times like this, when he reached down with one hand and pulled you up and in front of him on the horse, you remembered his true strength. 

“Holy shit.” You grabbed onto something to steady yourself after the ground had just disappeared from under your feet. 

Realising too late you had, in fact, grabbed onto Loki’s knees, you let go as if you had dropped a hot potato. 

Loki snorted under his breath at you. 

“Shut up, you know I hate it when you do things like that.” You muttered back.

It felt strange, sitting like this on a horse with Loki again. As your party rode up to the top of the rainbow bridge (far, far faster than you would have liked) you realised you were rather happy you were riding with Loki, rather than Fandral. 

An odd change, given that the last time you were here and had to share a horse with the god behind you, you would rather have been literally anywhere else. You felt more relaxed this time, like you could even lean back against him. You didn’t though, of course. 

It didn’t take long to make your way up the bridge and towards the docks, where around 4 other Asgardian soldiers where there to greet you. You recognised the lady, the one that had come in and shouted at Loki for cutting her hair off once.

“Are we a bit thin on numbers?” You asked Loki behind you.

“Best not to go into Muspelhein with too many people, they will think we are coming to attack.”

“Sif! Hogun!” Thor jumped down from his horse in a very cool, swift movement that would have inevitable ended with you falling on your face if you attempted it. 

“We should leave.” The man Thor had identified has Hogun spoke. 

Loki leapt down from behind you as you started at the floor, looking forward to your descent even less than getting on the bloody thing.

 “Need some help?’ Loki shot you a shit-eating grin. 

You glared at him but nodded. 

He gave you a hand to help yourself down, which was quite a considerable jump.

“Very gallant of you.” You snarked. 

“I’m always gallant.” 

“I see why they call you the God of lies.”

Loki chucked lightly and you felt your heart soar. This was the friendliest he had been all day.

Mortified at the feeling you quickly distracted yourself by looking at your new method of transport, a sort of space-ship thing.

Without having much to go on with your limited experience of spaceships, this one seemed fairly small, and from what you could see if the inside, probably wouldn’t fit any more people than you had in your party, which was just as well. It was a silver/gray on the outside, and had some steps leading up to the seating area inside and you could just make out what you presumed to be the control area at the front. 

You followed Thor onto the ship and instantly felt drawn to the large glass front of the space craft, allowing you to see out into the space in front of you. 

“This is so…strange, it’s like I’m playing an arcade game or something.” You spoke out loud to yourself.

You blinked heavily a couple of times, as if you were trying to orient yourself to the surrealism of the current situation. Without thinking you looked around to remark about how strange this all was, before remembering that this was completely normal to your present company. A pang of loneliness hit you briefly, remembering how difficult it was to relate to most of the current people in your life. 

Sighing you took a place in the seating area of the ship, as Hogan stood at the controls. Once everyone was on, the steps rose back up into the ships floor and a metal sheath lowered to seal you in. 

Loki sat himself down next to you but you barley noticed, trying to take everything in. 

“Do you have the stone?” 

“Hm?” You didn’t comprehend his words. 

Loki tutted. “The stone I gave you, do you have it?”

“Uh, yeah.” You reached into your pocket and found it still sitting there. You pretty much always had it on you.

“Good.” Loki sighed, and sat back in his seat. 

You however, stayed on edge listening carefully to the clanking of metal as the ship started to set off. 

“Woah…” You whispered more to yourself, as you watched the stars pass by the window at the front of the ship. 

You stole a quick look at Loki next to you, and to your surprise you found him looking back at you, as if he had been watching you.

He blinked at you, rather ungracefully for Loki, and looked upwards.

You smirked to yourself, knowing that you had caught him out, but the satisfaction was only short lived as you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the next part of your adventure. 

A/N: Woo! What did you think? All of your comments mean the world to me and are keeping me going as I struggle with gallbladder attacks rn!

Taglist:

@creationsbyme  @kikster606  @slytherinintj13  @th0rswh0res  @huntress-artemiss  @jannieka394 @stefffrs  @misswimberly @thedistractedagglomeration  @yoongissidebitchh  @purplekitten30 @mischief2sarawr  @johnmurphys-sass 

@lonadane  @imalovernotahater @lokisgoodgirl  @laliceee @dlwrish  @paetonnn  @lovelysizzlingbluebird @reas-writing 

[lumiereandcogsworth]

looooove when I open tumblr and see you going feral over batb 🥳 have you ever talked about the moment when like. it hit you that you were very much in love with this movie? did it hit the first viewing or did you have to let it cook a bit first?

YIPPEEE!!!!! okay yeah i mean here’s what i remember:

i saw it in theaters april 12th 2017 with my parents. i was ENCHANTED (winks at you specifically) from the very start. i truly remember just being so enamored with everything about it. every song every scene every change from the animated version i was like GOSH THIS FILM IS GENIUS. MAGNIFICENCE 🤌🤌

i remember driving back to the hotel (we were on a trip touring a potential university, twas spring break) with my parents and i literally could not stop saying “that was SO GOOD…. like that was So Good you guys.” and my parents were like yeah it was good ! but my brain was Buzzing

i remember coming back to school the following monday and telling my friend group that i saw it and one of them was like ah, it wasn’t good :/ and i like. had a 404 processing error. it GENUINELY did not ever ONCE occur to me that anyone could possibly think that this movie was not the greatest of all time. i think i was down bad immediately without truly realizing it though

i saw it in theaters a second time. i think with a friend who also really loved it? i actually forget that i had someone to be feral about it with irl for a minute. she somehow carried on with her life after a few months though… weird🤔

i also remember that summer watching it like. every day once i had the dvd and even worse when it was on netflix. if i had letterboxd back then it would have looked like yours does with enchanted afjskdj. i think there were days when i would watch it twice in one day

i remember telling my dad that i think it’s become my second favorite movie (i was afraid to let it beat out forrest gump just yet) and he was like “already?? you’re just swept up by it because it’s new to you still.” and i was like yeah probably but man i don’t know….

and i remember by my 18th birthday that year in november, i was given a big batb 2017 poster, and my sister-in-law (just my brother’s girlfriend at the time!) made me my own rose under the glass thing. so between april and november it progressively ramped up into a very clear love

i definitely knew i loved it A LOT right away, but i also remember being very guarded about it at first. like i was afraid to fully dive in. literally i didn’t even buy my own merch until like, 3 years in. i received gifts but i just?? i don’t know. i guess i was afraid to make it my whole personality if i was gonna fall out of love with it. which happened with bbc sherlock and i was very sad about that. i don’t get big interests very often so i didn’t expect to lose sherlock and i also wasn’t sure how long this would last.

i also Wasn’t on tumblr at the beginning. i joined tumblr in 2019 so for like two years i was just floating around in love with the film on my own accord. i wrote fic in my notes app and didn’t post it anywhere. i just watched it a lot and thought about it a lot and it was just like. secretly and silently the love of my life

but then when i finally got on ao3 i started posting fic and on tumblr i started talkin about it and i got louder about it slow but sure. i became a madman. and now i’m here. seven years later.

and i’m so so happy :)))

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

i've heard allegations 'bout your reputation, i'll show you my shadows if you show yours

summary: requested (like a year ago, sorry!)  Reader and Andy getting in a legitimate fight or maybe flirting in front of him with one of his colleagues to get under his skin because he hasn’t touched her in weeks from being so busy jealous Andy would be so dominant I’m weak i took some liberties and set it at the christmas eve party at andy’s office.

warnings: andrew barber being r o u g h  😩 😩 😩 and jealous 😩  and mean bc i just so deeply want this man to yell at me and pull my hair bc he’s an angry daddy, however, he is not called daddy in this story bc i don’t do it unless you guys ask me to. so smut, and he’s in charge and i’m dead about it. more videos being made bc apparently that’s on my mind.

word count: around 7,500

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: i hate that it took me so long to post this but here i am, almost a month late with a christmas eve party story. i have very little shame tbh.

You were not unreasonable, no matter what Andy claimed. You could always admit what was your fault—which was about 80% of all disagreements—but Andy had his faults, too. Tonight? Well, you weren’t innocent…but you were not the only one to blame.

This was the third Christmas party he had taken you to. The first year had not completely been his doing. Lynn had been bothering him about it and he would have gotten away with pretending it just wasn’t possible had Lynn not run into you at the coffee shop near Andy’s house.

You had been accustomed to Andy by then. He didn’t put distance between you two because he wanted to, he just simply wasn’t the best at getting close. You practically forced him into sometimes, and it had never gone wrong, so he trusted you. A lot.

You weren’t sure you were going to be able to say that much longer. You had your moments, those situations where you pushed him just a little too far. Not so far that he was angry about it, but far enough that you ended up with a sore ass and maybe a few finger-shaped bruises on your skin.

As if that was an incentive to stop?

Lately, things had been…off. Andy was working on a big case, one that he had just finished the day before. You expected that he was going to come home and make up for not having touched you in 17 days. Yet, that didn’t happen.

You weren’t trying to complain too much. The “honeymoon phase” was something that could not be applied to your relationship because you were as happy as any other day, you loved him more and more as time went on, and you guys always had sex. Always.

But there were the cases that sometimes threw a slight pause in that. That was fine, you understood and it wasn’t like you were with Andy for sex. You loved that man so fucking much, you could deal with some neglect for a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.

17 days with no immediate plans to remedy it was crossing a line. So, on the 18th night, the night of his office Christmas party, after he merely kissed your head, told you that you looked beautiful, and didn’t fuck you in your tiny, sparkly dress, you also wanted to cross a line. A specific line because it was hard to get a reaction out of him any other way.

Andrew Barber was a jealous man. It was something you never played with because he was jealous. He wasn’t some immature idiot who was going to cause a scene, but he would interrogate you about people he felt were “suspicious”.

On your way to the party, he had wanted to catch up. He felt like this was the first time he was able to breathe since he was put on the case, and he had noticed some distance between you two. You told him about the very basic parts of your day—work, friends, family.

When he placed his hand on your thigh, you had to wonder if this was a game. Why hadn’t he fucked you? Was he trying to make you beg? That was something Andy thoroughly enjoyed, and you trusted him so much that you rarely ever knew when he was doing it. If you stopped to think about it, you would probably find a few times he’d managed to get away with it.

He let you hold his hand and to avoid having to pull away from you, he told you when to move the gear shift. It was cute, too cute for how long you two had been together, but Andy seemed willing to indulge you. He always did when he could.

But as soon as he got to the party, there was more work talk and he had basically pawned you off on Lynn. She was thrilled, of course, she rarely had time for friendships, but she valued Andy, and because of that, she loved you almost as much as he did.

It had been two hours by the time you were completely fed up. Lynn had decided she was about to head out, so she was making her rounds, and that meant that you were stuck with the other partners. Men, women, they were all talking about how great their lawyers had been lately.

Yet, reminder, you hadn’t been fucked in nearly 18 days. You weren’t going to sit around and listen to that for the whole night, you innocently decided to wander a bit. Andy was talking about his case and seemed almost oblivious to your presence. Why did he even bring you? He was the one that reminded you about it, you probably wouldn’t have realized it had gone by until well into next year since work was so hectic.

Regardless, without an answer, you were left to entertain yourself. What else were you supposed to do? Just sit around all night and not speak to anyone? Andy was a complicated man and he had only a handful of people at the job that he liked, but fewer people that he disliked. Most people, he felt indifferent about, and those were the pawns for your current game.

You flit all around the party, laughing, talking to everyone, and though you saw him seeking out your whereabouts every now and then, there was no reaction at all. He didn’t care that some of these sleazy men were staring at your cleavage or your legs—two things he should have done earlier but did not.

By the time you’d nearly spoken to everyone, you felt…possessed, there was no better way to describe it. You were mad and confused and tired, and till the day you died, you would swear on everything you held sacred, the following was not part of your plan. You simply had no other choice than to go along with it when it practically fell in your lap.

Andy hadn’t noticed your best attempts but as soon as Neal was standing in front of you, he was watching. You had not and would not have gone to Neal, it was the other way around. He was possibly picking up on all your sadness and desperation, he was probably able to spot attention-seeking from a mile away since he pulled those kinds of stunts regularly.

Andy was finally paying attention to you and that was why you didn’t walk away. Your boyfriend could deny it all he wanted, but you saw something in his eyes. There was that anger, of course, but there was also that dark gleam. The one that he had when he liked to lay you out under him and remind you who you belong to.

That was all you wanted, that was the only reasoning behind your actions. You didn’t think you’d done anything wrong, not until you laughed at something Neal said and he laughed back, and then he touched your shoulder.

And that was when you knew things had gone too far. You crossed a line, and you should have known better than even trying to use Neal. Because he envied Andy to no end, understandably. Why wouldn’t he try to flirt with you? No one got Andy as angry as Neal, and you should have just put your ego aside and spoken to your boyfriend.

But that window had closed and your time for being a mature, communicating adult was over. You quickly broke away from Neal after that and Andy took only seconds before he was dragging your ass out of that party and to the car.

You weren’t sure what to do. Pretend you didn’t know what the big deal was? Maybe just start blurting out apologies. He opened the car door for you, ushered you in, and then got into the driver’s seat in complete silence.

Andy had been mad at you before, but he had never been so angry he wouldn’t look at you or speak to you. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. His jaw set, brow furrowed, shoulders tense—he stayed that way the entire drive.

Andy wasn’t like this, he usually always had his temper in control. You were worried because you were one of the few people Andy sincerely trusted. It would devastate you if this gave him pause.

When he stopped the car, it became uncomfortably silent. It had taken you almost a minute to decide where you wanted to take this. “Andy, I’m—”

“Don’t apologize.”

“But I am s—”

“Get upstairs, take your dress off, and wait for me on the bed.”

Shit. You fumbled with the handle for a moment, scurrying inside and up the stairs. This was everything that you had wanted, wasn’t it? Then why the fuck were you nervous? Why were you shaking? Why did the idea of a black hole appearing and swallowing you sound so appealing?

You took off your dress and hung it back in your closet. You’d only been in it for a few hours, that didn’t warrant an actual wash. Shakily, you made your way back to the bed and sat there. What about your bra and panties? He hadn’t said. Your shoes? Fuck, what were you supposed to do?

Andy walked in and flipped on the light.

Idiot, why hadn’t you done that?

He made his way to the dresser off to the side of the bedroom, he removed his jacket first, then his cuff links and his tie. He started rolling up his sleeves and you had to look away.

You turned down to your lap. “You didn’t tell me if you wanted me to keep anything else on.”

“I also didn’t tell you that you could speak,” he asserted.

Your stomach dropped, the mere thought of not following his directions was unsettling. When Andy got like this, you wanted to do what he told you to. You wanted him to think you were his good girl. Any time you failed at absolute perfection, you didn’t take it well.

You didn’t know if you should apologize or remain silent. You were wringing your hands, something you became aware of only when he made his way in front of you and placed his hands over yours. You startled slightly, looking up at him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, keeping your head tilted back. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered. You didn’t want him to feel bad because you were feeling some type of way. You also didn’t want to think this had anything to do with him. He’d never given you reason to be nervous.

“Are you scared?”

“Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He leaned down, face directly in front of yours. “Before we start, I need you to understand that you’ve never disappointed me. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.” That didn’t really help as much as he probably thought it would. Even if you hadn’t disappointed him, there was always the chance that you would. And you weren’t sure he was being completely honest anyway. Neal? What the fuck was wrong with you?

“You don’t need to be nervous or scared, just be completely honest with me.”

“Of course.” You would never lie to him.

“Who do you belong to?”

Your answer was immediate, you didn’t even need to think about it. Recalling life before you met Andy was a bit blurry. Who had you been? Where? What had you wanted? “You.”

“So,” he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, “this mouth…”

“Is yours,” you confirmed.

He hummed, fingers trailing from your face all the way down, between your breasts, over your stomach, stopping at the band of your panties. He paused, noting the shakiness in your breath, the goosebumps on your skin, your hands that were gripping the sheets.

Abruptly, his hand dropped to where you had been expecting it to. Your breath hitched and your hips jumped off the bed, desperate for his touch.

He made a small noise of disapproval and you hurriedly settled back down on the bed. “This pussy? Is that mine, too?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He pulled your panties off to the side and his fingers ran up your wet skin at an agonizing pace. He brought them up to his lips and his tongue slipped out to taste you. He smiled because you had managed to stay almost completely still, apart from a bit of squirming. “You’re such a good girl, baby. You know that’s one of my favorite things about you, how good you are for me.”

That gave you these awful butterflies and you felt hot everywhere. That was all you ever needed to hear. His hand returned to your center and his first finger slid into you. You looked down to see but he grabbed your jaw again and turned you back up.

“Keep watching me, baby.”

He liked to test you, you knew that. He would give you an order and try to make you disobey him. This time, when his hand fell away from your face, you forced yourself to keep your head tilted. You ignored that burning part of you that wanted to see his fingers pushing in and pulling out, covered in what was dripping from your pussy.

You focused on just feeling. One thick finger was slowly working you open for him, he always stretched you out as much as he could meaning you had to be prepared for some teasing. He prioritized this because he was big and he knew it—and you had been smitten enough before he fucked you, but after, there wasn’t a second of the day your body didn’t crave Andy’s.

Despite how rough Andy could be with you, and how generally tough he was, he liked to baby you. Sometimes, he liked treating you as delicately as one would a bouquet of flowers. He could see a lot of comparisons if he really thought about it. You were beautiful, soft, and smelled so sweet. And if he didn’t pay attention to you, well, he’d been reminded of those consequences at the party.

You kept your eyes on his the entire time. You didn’t falter when he added his second finger, nor when he curled his fingers against that spot inside you, nor when his thumb pressed down firmly on your clit.

He pressed one hand down on your shoulder, a cue to lie back. After you had obliged, he pulled his fingers out of you and told you to open your mouth. You instantly did so, closing around his fingers as soon as they were in your reach.

He pressed his fingers down and kept going until your body jerked and the noise of you gagging echoed in the room. “I wanna see those beautiful lips wrapped around my cock, baby girl.”

You eagerly sat up, still sucking on his fingers as you pulled his belt apart, yanked the button of his pants open, and tore down the zipper. Glancing up at him to look for any signs that you didn’t have his permission to proceed, you pushed his pants and boxers down cautiously until his cock was out.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and nodded. “Go ahead, baby.”

You moved back on the bed and situated yourself onto your stomach, propping up on your elbows. One hand wrapped around his hard length and you let the tip of your tongue come out to catch the precum dripping from his tip.

He released a shaky breath, hands at his sides because he wanted you running the show. For a while, a least. He didn’t want to guide you, he wanted to see how exactly you were going to make up for your slight misstep at the party.

You ran your tongue up his shaft lightly, feigning that whole soft act that you knew he loved. It wasn’t so much an act, but you had been bent over his desk, hair pulled, ass spanked, both holes thoroughly used. But you liked soft, too. You liked slow and gentle mornings, whispered words, careful touching. You liked whatever he wanted to give you.

You closed your lips around just the head of his cock and sucked. Unlike all other men you had been with, Andy was as patient as a saint. He loved when you teased him. Once, he had you edge him with your mouth for nearly an hour and thinking about how he fucked you after still made your toes curl.

His eyes closed and he sighed. “Fuck, baby.” His hand lightly settled on the back of your head. “So good, I could fuck your mouth for the rest of my life.” He didn’t push you down, he just ran his hand through your hair over and over because he knew how much you liked him to play with your hair.

But then his hold tightened and he pulled you off, much to your dismay. He noted your pout and pleading eyes but was kind enough not to taunt you about them. “Get on your back, sweetheart.”

You knew what he wanted as soon as he stepped away. You quickly climbed up toward the edge of the bed and rolled over, bending your neck over the mattress. You automatically opened your mouth for him, but he placed his hands on your shoulders first.

“Relax.” He leaned over and ran his hands along your arms, setting them on the mattress. He pressed your thighs down, waiting until you had lost all the tension in your body. He curled his hand around his length and stroked several times with a loose hand and a slow pace.

You watched in utter fascination. It never failed to get you wet when Andy showed so much control, over himself, over you. He was in charge of every little thing and you could tell that he got off on that. Every time he reached the head of his cock, he would press down so slightly, so close to your lips but just not enough.

“Andy,” you whispered. “Please.”

He smirked again. “Open your mouth for me.” And as soon as you did, he was slowly sliding in. He was slow at first, keeping his hips still as he slipped the straps of your bralette past your shoulders. He rolled the remaining material down until your breasts were exposed and squeezed them in his hands.

You pressed your thighs together, arching up into his hands more. You tried to relax your throat for him, knowing he was only stopping to give you a moment to prepare.

He pinched your nipples painfully and didn’t stop until you whined. He loved feeling you make that sound when his cock was down your throat, and the deep breaths as the pain faded away. Again, he tortured your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, yanked a little, until you were squirming all around the bed, making these noises around him that he rarely ever heard, your eyes filled with tears.

He leaned over quickly, releasing your breasts so he could give them both a brief kiss. You closed your eyes, humming in satisfaction. He took his time sinking his teeth into your sore, erect nipples and you squealed both times, back arching again. His tongue rolled over your stinging skin and you tilted your head eagerly, attempting to take more of him.

Sometimes, it was enough to get him naturally high, how much power he had over you, your body. He could hurt you and you would thank him; he could turn around and give you just a second of gentleness and you looked at him like you’d never loved anyone as much as you loved him. You claimed that, quite often. Andy wasn’t sure if he believed that, not because he didn’t trust you but because he wasn’t wired to think of himself as special in any way. Why you treated him like he was, was confusing to him at times.

But you were special, so fucking special. You were smart and funny, and so kind to every single person you encountered. It was a nice change from the environment he regularly found himself in. That was what you were supposed to be—a breath of fresh air from his hard life. You were not supposed to become his only source of oxygen, yet there he was. It didn’t seem he was reliant on you because Andy wasn’t comfortable expressing reliance on anyone, but he knew he was.

He stood and watched your body move with those deep, sharp breaths you were taking. Abruptly, his hand whipped across one breast, then the other. You cried out, a nice vibration around him, and now you were quivering. It was so easy for him to play your body like this because you were just needy enough that anything would have given you pleasure. Another thing he knew, another thing that made him so damn cocky.

“Open your legs,” he told you and you parted your thighs. Again, he pulled aside your lace panties and pushed two of his fingers inside you. Your cunt was dripping, your arousal gushing out as his fingers thrust in, curled, searched for that spot that made your eyes roll back. The noise of it made his cock twitch.

Your pussy was throbbing, yearning for the release that only this man could give you. You didn’t care how he did it, you just needed Andy. Hands, mouth, cock, you would take anything he wanted you to have.

“Listen to that greedy pussy,” he directed, voice low and quiet. “So desperate to be filled and fucked. But by who, baby?”

Your stomach twisted at not being able to answer him. That was why he asked when you had your mouth full of him, because if you could speak, you would blurt out reassurances that it was only him.

“Me?” he pressed.

You spoke, despite knowing it was going to sound like nonsense.

“And no one else?”

You were quick with your denial. And maybe, by now, since his cock was always in your mouth, he was a professional at understanding what you were saying. Or possibly, it was just the look in your eyes.

“You sure, baby?”

Once more, your voice came out muffled but hurried, almost panicked. He had to know that you didn’t even think about anyone else. He had to know that you thought he was the most beautiful man in the world.

He dragged his free hand up your body and it settled over your neck. Finally, he pulled out from your mouth only to thrust back in harshly. You choked, your throat contracting around him while he massaged his thumb and finger over your pulse points. He let you breathe through it before he started rocking his hips ever so slightly. You could feel him moving along your tongue and your cheeks, but they were small motions.

You always loved this position; it was easier to take all of him. It was easier to breathe on your back with your chest open, and, unlike being on your knees, it left you open for him.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing one hand off to the side of the bed while the other reached between your legs. His fingers danced along your skin without any real intent, but occasionally, he would touch your clit.

You were reaching for any part of him you could touch. Your hands mindlessly grasped at his back and kept slipping off because of his shirt. You couldn’t ask but you wanted it off. He felt your hands working open his buttons and decided to let you have something. He was going to take and take tonight, he could give you a little.

He stood up and loosened his tie enough to pull it off, then shrugged his shirt off. Once again, his palm settled to your neck. “You should see yourself right now. Shaking, wet, such a good girl.”

You reached up, gripping one hand in his pants, the other around the buckle of his belt and you pulled him in more until your throat was struggling.

“Easy, baby.” He took your hands off him, keeping a hold of one and placing the next back down on the bed. He pulled out carefully, dragging his hand up, and inch by inch, pushed back in. “You should see how deep I’m getting. I can see it right here.” The palm of his hand hovered over your skin, just enough that you could feel him, and he followed his cock again, letting you know how much of him you were taking.

It was a lot of him, not enough. And he was deep, but you needed more. You whined, a plea for him to move this along. He couldn’t want to drag this out, not after almost 18 days.

Again, he leaned over until he could touch you. His hips moved steadily, a controlled move that matched how strategically he was working your cunt, everywhere but the most sensitive part of you.

You hated that you couldn’t beg, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if you weren’t shaking or if your cunt wasn’t clenching desperately, you knew if he couldn’t feel it, he could at least see it. This went on for several moments, he was proud of how well you were taking him, and wanted to give you some type of award.

You were more than just caught off guard when you felt his lips against one of your thighs. Fuck. He couldn’t, you wouldn’t last long. But he went on, scattering kisses over your thighs, fucking your mouth just a fraction harder as he grew closer to your pussy.

As he licked down from your clit to your entrance, your eyes rolled back. Your hips jumped off the bed and one of his hands held you down in response. You were trembling, whining utter nonsense.

Several times, his tongue ran through you and you’d been so worked up, so wet and frustrated since he’d pulled you out of the party, since he hadn’t fucked you in a while, and this was just happening too fast. You wanted to focus on him, you wanted to apologize in the best way you knew how.

You tried to push him back with your hands on his thighs, but you were nowhere near strong enough.

He turned his head to kiss your thigh again. His hips stilled, most of his cock out of your mouth just in case. “Do you need a moment, baby?”

You debated. If you actually made him stop, made him pull out even if just for a second solely so you could ask him not to make you come...he would be outraged. He might even turn you over and spank you. But he also might not let you come at all. You would die, you knew you would.

You let your hands fall away.

“You okay?”

You hummed slowly, comfortably.

Still, one hand settled on your hip bone to keep you from moving, the other you felt on the back of your thigh close to your ass. He kissed your pussy slowly, sucking at your skin just a little, but not your clit, not yet.

He was careful as he began fucking your mouth again, worried he had pushed you too far. He waited until he was sure you were okay before he sucked your clit between his lips and slipped two fingers into you.

You whined around him as your body shuddered.

He kissed you again, several times to get you to calm down. “It’s okay, baby girl. Be a good girl for me.”

So, you understood, he realized that you wanted to object to this, but Andy was the greediest man you had ever had in bed. You weren’t surprised that he just didn’t care. You found it hard to mind as he began fucking his fingers in and out of you, sloppy, wet noises echoing around the room.

He was sucking again and you were desperately clutching at any part of him you could, his sides, his legs. You weren’t pushing him away now, you were pulling him in.

You were so close, your body arching up as much as it could. You felt tension building in every part of your body. Your own hands came up to your breasts mostly because you knew he would feel your hands moving underneath him.

“Fuck,” he cursed. He left your cunt neglected of his mouth for several moments, only using his fingers, as his cock drove down your throat hard.

You were choking loudly, your body again moving wildly as you gagged. It couldn’t have been more than a few times but they were determined thrusts, you were sure he was going to come in your mouth.

Instead, he pulled out completely and you whined shortly. You didn’t want him to go, but you couldn’t say that. All you could do was try to catch your breath. He didn’t even give you a moment to protest before his face was buried in your cunt.

In seconds, you were a mewling, moaning mess for him. Your body was so tight, so full of unbearable tension. You were shaking, sweating, your pussy was loud and soaking wet and you knew you were dripping everywhere, on him, on the bed.

He didn’t tease, he wanted to let you come because he wanted you coming all night. His favorite form of punishment was too much of a good thing, not withholding how much he enjoyed touching you.

You finished with a scream loud enough that the neighbors probably heard. Again.

Andy touched you through it until you stopped moving, save for the shaking aftershocks when he got a tad too close to your clit. When you were loose and sated on the bed, he started to sit you up.

You quickly turned to him, grasping his face. “I love you, only you.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I would never look at anyone else.”

“I believe you.” Even if he didn’t, this was not the place to voice that. This...state he got you in when he was this dominant, this demanding, was not completely unlike you. It was just a very obedient, sensitive version of you that he knew he had to be careful with. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt your feelings.

He touched your face and that was when you realized you were crying, he was wiping away your tears. It was either from your finish or from choking on him, you weren’t completely sure. “You’re okay?”

You nodded quickly. “I’m okay.”

He kissed your forehead and you felt hot. As if what you two were just doing wasn’t filthy, this was what made your heart beat faster and gave you those butterflies in your stomach.

He pulled back and kept hold of your face. “What does my baby girl want?”

“I want to feel you inside me.”

As his lips met yours, he began removing all the remaining clothing on either of your bodies. He moved you up the bed until he could lay your head on a pillow and then positioned himself over you.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he promised. “Keep saying it.”

As he carefully pushed into you, you continued to tell him you love him. You stared at him the whole time, willing your body to relax for him. He didn’t like it when you got so worked up, especially over the games he played in the bedroom. The thing with Neal was bad but it was over and you knew he wasn’t mad at you. He wouldn’t fuck you like this if he was.

You clutched onto his shoulders, trying to hold him as close to you as you possibly could. He was the one that grabbed your legs and cued you to wrap them around his body. His cock sliding into your pussy was a feeling you couldn’t understand why he’d left you deprived of.

Once his hips were settled against your thighs and he was completely buried inside you, you reached up to his face. You loved his cheekbones, you could trace them with your touch for days if he let you. And his beard, you loved feeling his beard under your fingertips.

He let you do this, explore him as if you could possibly forget anything after all the other times you did it. You remembered the first time he fucked you, you couldn’t stop staring, you couldn’t stop touching—he was so painfully beautiful. He was so patient with you, always had been, and now, despite how badly you felt his need to move, to fuck you, he was going to wait for you to be ready.

“You did this on purpose,” you muttered.

“Did what?”

“You didn’t fuck me. For 17 days. You…wanted me to make a scene—”

“That’s a pretty serious accusation.”

“I could take it to court and win,” you countered.

He smirked. “Could you? What’s my motive?”

“You like being possessive. You like dragging me out of places, you like bringing me home, you like reminding me who I belong to.”

“And were you reminded?”

“No one really belongs to anyone or anything at the end of the day—”

“No,” he interjected, tone sharp. You always liked that tone. “You belong to me.”

“Maybe…”

“You are mine,” he repeated. “And you’re going to say it or we’re going to have a long night.”

“I will say it if you admit this was your plan all along.”

“You think I wanted you to flirt with Neal?”

Your stomach flipped. “I wasn’t—”

He nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I know, I didn’t mean to word it like that. I know you weren’t—”

You felt slightly like you were about to panic. Flirting with Neal? No. “Never, I would never—”

He shushed you. “I know, baby. I know you wouldn’t because you are a good girl. I promise I know that.”

You settled somewhat but that lingering feeling in the pit of your stomach was hard to ignore. Flirting with Neal? You couldn’t bear him thinking you would ever do that to him. Flirting in general with people Andy felt indifferent to was off the table unless you wanted to placate his desires. Certainly, he had to know that.

“I wanted to hear you beg,” he insisted. “That was what I wanted. I wanted honest begging because you are so fucking beautiful begging for my cock.”

You huffed. “Well, you should have asked.”

“I didn’t want to have to ask.”

“You could have given me a hint. I was going around your party trying to get your attention—”

“You had it, you always do. Now, tell me who you belong to.”

“I think we all belong to the stars.”

“No,” he sighed.

“Or the moon, people who experience menstruation especially. The moon controls us, it’s been studied by scientists. There are articles.”

“Scientific articles do not support that,” he asserted and you couldn’t help but laugh. Andy was exact. He didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t see or that couldn’t be proven. Even now, inside you, he couldn’t turn that part of his brain off.

“Baby,” he sighed as his hand came up to curl around your neck. It just rested there, a heavy reminder of all the times in the past he had held you like that, or those other times when he applied just the right amount of pressure. “I want to fuck you, I want to make you cry, I want you to be shaking after I’m done with you, I want to fill you up with my cum. Don’t you want that?”

You nodded, once again turned on beyond comprehension.

“Then be good and say what I want you to say. Don’t make me make you say it.”

“What if I want you to make me?”

“You don’t.”

Andy’s punishments were always so elaborate and such a blur. He knew how to reduce you to nothing but need, and you needed him so badly sometimes. He loved seeing you like that, but he didn’t always like taking you there. He knew how careful he needed to be during and after, so he reserved it for major misbehavior.

You brought one hand up and set it on his forearm. You could feel his skin and his muscles. “I belong to you.”

Just barely, as he stared at your face, his hold tightened. Your breath stuttered but you made sure not to get too worked up too soon. You didn’t want him to have to stop before he finished inside you.

“That can never happen again, baby.”

“I know. It never will. I’m so—”

He tightened his hand again. “Don’t say sorry.”

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you say the one word you so badly needed to say.

“I don’t blame you, sweetheart, I’m just saying…it can’t happen again.”

You caught the lead of his tone. “But what if it does?”

“I might have to make sure he knows that you’re mine.”

You wanted him to let the whole world know. You knew he saw your eyes light up because he smirked. “How would you do that?”

“I might have to let him see how I fuck you. I might have to show him how I can make you beg for me, or how willingly you bend over when I’m going to spank you. I might have to show him how wet you get after I mark up your ass, maybe how whiny you get when my hand is around your throat. But maybe I’ll just have to send him the video I’ve been recording tonight, how well you can suck my cock, how badly you want to.”

You were stunned for a moment—recording? Where was the camera? The idea of Andy recording you was such a turn on. You loved making videos for him, but you’d always wanted to see one where he was with you. “You’ve been recording?”

“Would you be okay with that if I was?”

“Yes. I want to watch you fuck me.”

“You’re such a good girl.” He pulled his hips back once and then snapped up noisily, pulling a moan from your throat. “You know how much I love that sound? When you can hardly breathe but you still make all those noises you know I want to hear.”

He leaned in to kiss you, hips stilled, hand still wrapped around your neck. It was brief, a reward, a reminder. You were being good and he loved you, but he was going to fuck you.

You broke away, nodding to let him know you were ready, that you wanted this. “Please.”

He rolled over so you were on top of him. He kept his hold on your neck to keep you sitting up and used his opposite hand to grab your ass. After he kneaded your skin hard enough he knew it would bruise, he spanked you loudly, harshly. Your body jerk forward, taking him in deeper than you knew was possible.

You whined, trying to pull back a little. He gripped your ass again and held you there. It was painful but exciting, you wanted him to push your limits tonight. He so rarely did, concerned with pleasing you second and treating you delicate first.

He let you go only to spank your other ass cheek. Again, you moved forward and you felt fuller than you ever had. You ached between your legs, almost uncomfortably but the idea of having him this deep in your body was making you wetter by the second. You were dripping, you could see how wet his skin was, how much of a mess he was making of your pussy.

“Ride me, sweetheart.”

You found a comfortable position, your hands on either side of his waist in the mattress. He settled his arm between your breasts so he could still see them moving as you began jerking your hips back and forth. They were sharp, abrupt movements because you wanted to come so bad, you could hardly think of anything else. Save for your disbelief over the fact that he was making you do this yourself. But you didn’t argue because the last thing you wanted was punishment for talking back.

He closed his hand more, every sound you made was short and strangled. You moved faster, knowing he was closer when he choked you harder. His free hand took one of your breasts. He was so delicate at first, a gentle, slow touch before he was pinching your nipple so hard you were whining. He smacked your breast and you shuddered, nearly falling forward onto him, but he kept you up. Mostly because he wanted to do it again to your other breast.

Every slap against your breasts—loud and stinging, always surprising because he didn’t want you to have the comfort of a pattern—was pushing you closer to your orgasm. You were mindlessly bouncing on his cock, uncaring of the pain you felt every time you came down just a little too hard for how big he was. You felt like an animal, like you were simply a victim to your body’s depraved, primal desires.

You finished first, screaming things you would be impressed if he actually understood. You could cry, the tension built over days was finally all gone.

He rolled over once more, taking his spot on top again.

You clung to him, legs and arms, pulling him in like you would die if he wasn’t close enough. You needed to feel his whole body against yours.

“Hear that, baby?”

Oh, you heard. You’d been trying to ignore it, but of course, not if Andy had any say in it.

“Hear how wet your pussy is?”

So wet. Every time he pulled out and pushed in, the noise would fill the room. You only nodded.

Since you were wrapped around him so tightly, it wasn’t difficult for him to grab your hip and move you up the bed with him. He set you against the headboard, the pillows under the small of your back, propping you up for him.

He was on his knees now for more leverage. You knew he was going to fuck you hard. “Look at this, baby.” He slowly pulled out and you turned down to watch. “See how messy you’re getting my cock?”

“Yes,” you whined.

He grabbed his cock, used it to drag up and down your cunt several times.

“Andy, please.”

He shushed you, a slow, calm action that contrasted when he smacked the head of his cock against your clit.

You gasped and your hips jerked forward.

“Stay still,” he warned.

He did it over and over, and enjoyed watching you fail at trying to stay seated on the bed. He thrust in completely, quick and hard, only to pull out and smack your clit again. This was his routine for what felt like an agonizing hour, but you knew it was nowhere near that long. You knew even he didn’t have that kind of patience.

You cried out when he finally buried himself inside you again. As he pushed forward, he pulled you down. His fingers found your clit and you were soon tumbling over that edge once more.

As he finished, he pulled you on top of him, lying back on the bed. One arm wrapped tight around your back to pin you against his chest, his opposite hand tangled in your hair tightly. He hid his face in the bend of your neck, grunting as his hips continued to rock just slightly.

He kept you there for several long moments until he had completely satisfied himself. You were intoxicated being this close to him. You angled your head as much as you could and kissed the side of his face.

He turned over, setting you on the bed as he pulled out. You watched him curiously, moving to sit up with him. He made a disapproving noise and you laid back again. Once again, he made his way to the dresser and grabbed his phone.

“You were seriously recording?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do I usually bluff?”

Nope, never.

“Now I have a reference if you ever forget how a good girl is supposed to act.”

You suppressed an eye roll.

“Open your legs.” He came closer, directing the camera at your pussy. He touched you, spreading his cum all over your skin, rubbing circles around your clit, just barely dipping his fingers into you.

You watched his face the whole time. You loved how much Andy loved you and when he stared at you after fucking you, it was hard to miss. He was obsessed with you and he never minded showing it.

For almost a month, you watched that video every day. You were fascinated by him, the way he moved, the way he touched you. After that, you started wanting to record more and Andy never minded.

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[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

DIE PERSONAL INTERVIEW SPECIAL HEADBANG VOL.27 TRANSLATION 1/2

Sometimes delicate, sometimes rough, sometimes you are dazzled by his splendid playing. The red guitarist has reached Dir en grey’s unique mark . “Surprisingly, I like the rough feeling of those times. It felt like each member was strangely not trying to coordinate with the others. It seems like every member was playing with that rough feeling while just focusing on each’s one position. I remember quite a bit the atmosphere around 2005.”

Notes before reading:  This is the first part of personal interview of Die from the magazine Headbang Vol.27 released on 18th August.  The interview is 11 pages long, this part covers the first 6 pages. As Toshiya’s interview, 2nd part is focused in his roots as a guitarist and overseas experience. This interview is hella long so expect second part in a week or so. You can read the second part here You can get the magazine at Amazon Japan or CDJapan. Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated :) -----

“These concentration of feelings…. I wonder if this has become one of our distinctive characteristics. That’s why it wasn’t like ‘let’s try some different ways about how it can be listened’.  I think the current Dir en grey is in a middle point. Ah, I wonder if this is our distinctive mark  I was working on it while thinking if this uniqueness is a method that can’t be imitated anywhere else” Text by:  Yohsuke Hayakawa Next appearance is a guitarist who pulls the string of his vivid red-coloured instruments, Die! In ‘Ochita koto no aru sora’, he has certainly established himself. Also, in an interview focused on 2005, focusing around the same time they released the single ‘Clever Sleazoid’, he confesses his honest thoughts of those days when they were putting their eyes at overseas as the band was going through a transitional period. It became a really interesting text.

In addition, from domestic artist such as D’ERLANGER which are the flesh and bones of Die, up to the ‘Family Values Tour’ organized by KORN, which became a battle ground, this interview must be read in full, along with the second half theme interview in which several problems appeared

“Feeling the same than the fans, I wanted to see it as a situation that we don’t know what’s coming’

-I have the impression that Dir en grey has been so close to their fans over the last few months. After all, in this unprecedented situation, as they are people looking for themselves, was there a moment that you thought that there was something you could do even if it seemed impossible to be until then? Die: Well, that’s true. I feel like I've been doing specials things and things that I haven't done before. Like the live without audience (’The world you live in’, a live without audience in March). All the members were looking at strange places while playing. As there were no fans there and then all the same staff members were doing the same lighting and production as usual, I was wondering how it would feel when the live started.  It would be strange to say that there was a response, but I feel we were able to play in a good atmosphere. As a result, I think I had a very good experience. -After that, in May, there was a Youtube broadcast with setlist planned by the members (DIR EN GREY AUDIO LIVE STREAM 5DAYS) and you personally appeared in the chat. D: The chat was actually quite hectic (laughs) -Hahaha. In addition, there was also a broadcast of a talk with a relaxed atmosphere where you could see the real face of the members (DIR EN GREY LIVE ARCHIVE & SPECIAL TALK). At those, I felt the love for your fans. D: Well, that’s right. However, even if the AUDIO LIVE STREAM was done for fans, we also enjoyed it. The setlist of the other members were sent in advance to me but I didn't look at them. As I wanted to see it with the same feeling as the fans, not knowing what was coming. Enjoying them, mine was on the 3rd night and until then, I was watching the flow of the fan chat and I it looked amazing. I thought ‘I want to join as well in the chorus part’ (laughs) So I decided to participate at the part of the chorus in real time. However, the pace of the chat was too fast, and the timing didn't match at all (laughs) That’s why that part felt very much like a live. When it finished, I felt like time flew so fast. -There was a rare feeling about discovering each member’s setlist. I enjoyed the 5 days. Apart from you, there were people talking on SNS from different positions and I think there were many people who were going through difficult situations, so it was a good project to make everyone feel closer to each other. D: That's right. Then, one to two weeks later, the members themselves appeared on the screen. Well, if it weren't for this situation, I probably wouldn't have done it. But if you are going to do it…. it’s a strange way to say it, but it's wasn’t the usual DIR image, but bit more relaxed. Because we said we wanted to create an atmosphere that made that fans happy.) I did (my appearance) it with Toshiya…. -Yes. It was quite a shocking time (laughs). D: Hahaha. Toshiya said that if we did the talk as always, it wouldn’t be exciting for the fans. That’s why we caught up and  drank a little bit in advance, so we raised our spirits by ourselves. I think we have the desire of fans enjoying this part of the talks too. -Well, the good atmosphere that you both created was cool. D: Well, when you are thinking about what you can do to make it better, you are kind of wondering what it's going to be like.  The live with no audience, the ”AUDIO LIVE STREAM’, there was also the members talk…. But it's not something you can do so many times. It’s just doing what we can do now. -Indeed. I don’t even know if the proper answer to the current situation would be to keep doing lives without audience. D: I did the live without audience once, but once I did it, I felt like I couldn't do them properly in the same circumstances even if I did them twice or three times again. -After all, there is a feeling of tension and challenge unique when you do it for the first time. D: That's right. Like, “How is going to be?”, I can only do it with that sense of tension. “I was like, ‘what’s is this space (venue)? I feel like I was inside of a dream” -Also, I remember your words in the members talk, you said "I feel like the days when I was playing lives are an illusion”. D: Ah, yes yes. -A heated up crowded show is no longer realistic for you? D: That’s right.  At that moment, I couldn’t see the future at all. If I thought that we couldn’t do anything in the future (lives) I wondered what that  space (venue) will  become. I think I feel like I was in a dream. After all, if you have too much time, you will end up imagining various scenarios. Good and bad. -For sure.  So, while the tour went from being postponed to cancelled, the Pia Arena MM performances 'The insulated World- The Screams of Alienation', that marked the end, remained as a possibility until the last moment to finally being cancelled as well. I think that was a tough decision. D: It really was. It would have been the fans and the band just meeting…...It's a bit strange to say, but if that were all was about, we could have done it. But we couldn’t do our live. Naturally, we could have changed the arena tickets and the standing that were being sold as seating tickets, also, you needed to leave an empty seat between people at that time. And after all,  if you have to be ventilating all the time, you won’t be able to use things like smoke, or  certain things on the stage. If we have gone through that, Dir en grey may have been the first band in the world to perform a concert like that, which would had made us the reference for other bands for the future… At that point,we were wondering if it would be best to be the first ones to do it but, after all, our live couldn’t be materialized as we wanted so as we couldn’t do it, we decided to cancel. It was  also the closure of 'The insulated world' (2018), so it wouldn’t be finally closed. It's nice to have a live performance, but in the place where we were going to show the culmination of what we've been touring for the past 1-2 years, even though we did those lives performances, there wouldn’t be any special production due to Corona. -It would have been simply like a fact, “we did them because we had to”. D: That's right. We felt like we were going to get catch up with out activities for the future. It was a tough decision. We really wanted to do something in order to be able to do the performances and we were looking for a way to do them, so the announcement of cancelation was made at very last minute.  During days, we were going from the phase of “Yes, we can do it” to “No, we can’t” during the whole day. -You have just transmitted that sense of tension here, the feeling of going against the timing….When the tickets were about to be on general say, you cancelled the performances. D: Yes, it happened around that point. It’s hard to imagine playing a live with social distance due to the current situation. We have been active until now, and we have been watching the crowded audience all the time. I don’t think otherwise it would be a Dir en grey’s live, spaced apart and with everyone not being able to say a word (shouting/cheering). If we had to do it in such conditions, I don’t think it's necessary to do the performances. “Oh, is this our distinctive mark? I wonder if this uniqueness is something that can’t be imitated anywhere else”

-Meanwhile, the new single "Ochita koto no aru Sora" was completed. While it’s filled with  DIR EN GREY essence, such as a heavy riffs, a fierce chorus, and a  catchy melody,  I felt that you made this  song made with a strong feeling of scepticism/caution. D: I see. If you put aside the last song 10-minute song 'The World of Mercy', it’s a song that seems to be following the flow of “Utafumi” and “Ningen wo kaburu”. It seems  they are following a pattern as songs that we release as singles. I wonder if that’s possible to be done. There is no guitar solo. -It's a song quite solid overall. D:  That’s right.  The  (guitar) phrase is changing little by little due to the composition the riffs, but it feels like I’m aggressively pushing the riffs all the time. It’s like adding nuances that change the scene so clearly. -It's like  a seamlessly connected melody flowing. D: Yeah. The atmosphere flows as it is, but I wonder if the details will change in the future. I wonder if this feeling of scepticism/caution you mentioned is one of our unique traits. That's why I didn't feel like trying to make it sound different. I think this style is the middle point of the current DIR EN GREY. The feeling of this uniqueness that we have created is the most suitable for us. - So, you just let it out without trying to knead it strangely. D: That’s right. If you think about it in various ways, you can develop it more and make it more attractive, but I want to go with a pattern that runs through the core without any strange element. However, it is surprisingly difficult to make such a thing. After all, it's easier as a pattern to make a development in the middle of the song. After all, it’s difficult to create a high point in a song like it is floating on air. -Ah, I see. If the atmosphere of the back is modulated in a completely different form, it’s easier to get that you did the song with the intention of making a high point. D: It's kind of easy to do that way, isn't it? However, instead of going like that, it’s 3 minutes and 20 seconds of a song with consist mostly of one consistent riff. However, when  I played the guitar in the recording, actually it was quite dizzying. Even if the riff repeated, it may not be exactly always following the same pattern, so it is always thrilling. - Certainly, the pattern of riff changes in the first half and the second half. D: Oh yes. I wonder if this our distinctive mark. I wonder if this uniqueness is a method that can’t be imitated anywhere else -So, do you think that that aspect is established as a tacit understanding between the members? D: Yes, I wonder if it became like this naturally. There were quite a few developments but in the process of pre-production, I went to the direction of scraping off and scraping off the guitar (*An effect created by scraping the pick along the strings of an electric guitar). I don't overdub (*a technique used in audio recording where a passage has been pre-recorded, and then during replay, another part is recorded to go along with the original) as much as I used to.  After all, in the old days, I was relieved to do it in that way but, that’s not how you are going to play it live (laughs). It's quite courageous not to do it. If it's a recording, you can record several layers of sound, but since you only play live the original, how can you compete with what sounds there? And this time, I could hardly take a break while working at home as I couldn’t barely get out of my house. - So, due to this unusual event going on, the schedule changed significantly. D: That’s right. I think we will be aware of this later. It feels like “Oh we did this single under these circumstances” or “at the time of this single, we were under a lockdown”, things like that. - By the way, this time the chorus… isn’t the pattern a bit difficult to do while playing live? D: No, it comes in at a good timing. Kyo has thought about the chorus with the flow of the song. If you think about the all the set of instruments will be played live at some point, it’s easier to get focused in the moment when the sound is rising up but when it's in the riff or in the back timing, It's almost impossible (laughs) If you are playing at this speed.  As usual, when we were going to record the chorus, the lyrics were given to us for the first time. As it is in English, the timing is quite difficult. “Each member was strangely trying to not to assemble with each other. I like the rough feeling of those days” -I feel like that chorus is very DIR EN GREY once again. Also, about the remake of 'Clever Sleazoid'. The lyrics have changed to Japanese, but the impression of the song is that it’s relatively faithful to the original. D: Yes. In terms of backing, we haven't changed it much from the original one, and we just raised the tempo a little. Also, it's a moment in which we re-recorded it with our own sound. And when it comes to guitars, it's more like the two guitars are playing closer together. The the original song was released around 2005, at that time, each of us were playing with our own sense of timing. Every of us were disconnected from the others, but there was a feeling of everything coming. But now, I wonder we did it with a pattern that fits tightly in unison. -You just mentioned it but, what do you think is the biggest difference between Dir en grey in 2005 and Dir en grey today? D: Well…..Really, 2005 was a transitional period for the band, or a time when we were looking for a little change. Everything was trembling, in a good an in a bad way as well. It was such a time like that. Personally speaking, it's better now……it's bad that I say this, but it was like “am I playing guitar properly?” kind of. -Hahaha. Really? was it like that? D: Yes. But surprisingly, I like the rough feelings at that time. It feels like each member wasn’t trying to get connected with each other strangely, and it feels like everyone was playing it while only caring about their position. I remember the atmosphere of 2005 quite a bit. -In 2005, Dir en grey participated in the Japan leg of the  tour  'Taste of Chaos', and I remember the festival on the studio coast. D:, Ah yes yes. Thinking about it now, wasn’t it rare? -I agree. Besides you, there was Killswitch Engage.... D: Also, The used, STORY OF THE YEAR, Funeral For A Friend, etc. -Yes. That band (Killswitch) was  really exciting. D: Yes. we used to get together at festivals with Killswitch Engage at that time. I also did two-man in France.

-So, as you said, I feel that Dir en grey at that time was in a rough and emotionless moment.

D: Yes, it was like that. Even if I was standing on the stage, it was more about how could I raise my own mood/tension rather than doing it for the fans who came to see us, so if I was in a bad mood, I would stay in a bad mood. But well, at that time, we were playing with that kind of mood/atmosphere: if you don’t like this, then you shouldn’t come to see us.

-If it’s a festival focused on overseas bands like ‘Taste of chaos’, as some people in the audience didn’t know Dir en grey, did that that feeling of irritation come to the forefront?

D: Rather than……at that time, I knew about other bands only by name, but honestly, I was wondering “What the hell is everyone clapping for?”. It looked more like buttering up the audience. It was like “Ah, this is so shallow”. But there are a quite things that I can reflect on now. There were times when I wasn’t kind to the fans.

-That was also reflected on the changes of your music style?

D: That’s it. Back then, it was all about playing guitar. I thought it was pointless if I didn’t shake the guitar off all the way. That’s why I barely listen to the sound of the other members when we were playing live. Things like, matching the rhythm of the drums. This was something that the staff would sometimes point out to me. “Listen to what the others are playing, keep the rhythm more”, things like that.

-At that time, when they told you that, what did you say?

D: I said “Oh, yes” and I tried to do what I was asked to do, but once the live started I was like “Waa, let’s go” (laughs) It was good and bad, isn’t it?

(2nd part here)

[cardentist]

I’m relatively new to the marble hornets fandom, but one thing I’ve noticed is that people don’t seem to realize just How affected jay was (by the operator and by the investigation in general) and how early on it started. which I really think is relevant when people point out some of jay’s apparent Poor Decision Making. this is Definitely because of how deemphasized it is in the show itself (Especially season 1) but you really can get a feel for it when you go digging.

I’ve talked before about how it’s Very Likely that jay already had some form of ptsd by the start of the series (Link) but what gives us the clearest picture of jay’s health is actually his twitter account. (Link)  If you’ve never taken the time to read it before then I Highly suggest scrolling down to the bottom and working your way through, it’s a surprisingly fast read! but for the purposes of this post I made a Highlight Reel of really anything I saw that was relevant to either jay’s mental health, his physical health, or his obsession with the case that you can see in full here: (Link)

I’ll be using the most Pressing screenshots from that post to make my point here, but you really do get the full Effect scrolling through.

putting a readmore down to hopefully not spam people with screenshots ljksfad Warning for spoilers, talk of chronic illness, eating issues, difficulty with unreality, and other various mental and physical health issues

just as a note: this is going to have a Lot of focus on season 1 because this is where a lot of jay’s issues are established. I definitely have a Lot to say about the other two seasons but I won’t report on every instance where he’s paranoid or sick, I’ll be focusing more on the extremes!

looking through the whole series, videos tweets and all, it becomes Very apparent that jay has a Consistent pattern of behavior where he fixates on the investigation (and the people affected by it) to the detriment of his own health and safety. from the more mundane (digging through hundreds of hours worth of footage to exhaustion) to the more Extreme (following alex into the abandoned building Knowing he’s dangerous and that he’s probably going to hurt him because he Might find some answers).

(which on that note, while it’s definitely due in no small part to the influence of the operator and the extreme stress of the situation, you could pretty easily interpret jay with adhd, hyperfixating on research and video making.)

while I knew I’d find that going in, but I wasn’t expecting it to be hammered in so Quickly. this was posted the Second Day after his twitter had gone up

this continues, with jay occasionally mentioning how tired he is from compiling entries, feeling disorganized, and not being able to sleep in between him actively posting about sifting through tapes on a near daily basis. Then in july he starts actively getting Sick

104 fever, not well enough to work for Three Days. and there’s no telling how long it’d been building up without him noticing until then. he mentions being sick throughout august for long stretches of time (at least a solid week once), and it only gets worse from there

And something of note here, while he Does mention when he’s feeling particularly awful sometimes, for the most part he mentions his health when it affects his ability to go through and post about the tapes. there’s no telling just how frequently he was sick or exhausted when it Wasn’t worth mentioning. He only mentioned the results of the doctor’s visit a week later after he was specifically asked about it

and it’s Very apparent that whatever’s going on is Pretty Severe 

it’s after this point that he largely stops giving us specific updates on how sick he feels, but it’s also still very clear that he is sick. he mentions how out of it he is or how Bad a week’s been after he goes long stretches without updates. and he’s still going to the doctors in November

that leaves me with the impression that things haven’t improved, he’s just stopped mentioning it. he tried getting help for it with no luck, the sickness didn’t stop so there wasn’t much more he could do about it besides adapt. while I’m certain that his health would fluctuate over the course of the show, I don’t believe he stopped getting sick. tim’s sickness never really went away, and jay was bad enough by the end of the series that he was having seizures like he was (there’s really no telling if that was his first or if it was just the first time it’d been Caught).

so from here on out it’s a safe guess that everything jay does is with backdrop of sickness and exhaustion.

then, of course, this is where jay starts being more open about his paranoia (which has certainly been an undercurrent for a while now)

also of note: this isn’t the first time he’s mentioned having a difficult time trying to keep things straight in his head and it won’t be the last. he was already starting to doubt his memories and his senses back in 2009.

moreover, paranoia and fear (and possibly fixation) about the situation has him holling up in his house, to the point that he’s running out of food. how long has this been an issue? and if it’s an issue in 2009, then just how bad is it going to be when he’s running himself in and out of hotels too afraid to stay in one location? how often has he been forgetting to eat while burying himself in tapes and fear?

whether it’s from the operator, his slipping memory, the results of fixating on his work for as long as he has, his frequent sickness, the paranoia, or any combination therein, we can add brain fog to the list

and again, a case for jay’s fixation on finding answer. he wakes up in his house with no memory of how he got there, confused and in pain, digs through the footage on his camera, and has the entry up the same day. this was the point where he’d visited brian’s house again, only to be teleported around and meet the operator face to face. he says in the entry that he’s never going back to the house again, that he’s done with the case, but well.

much further down the timeline jay would say that he had no idea what he was doing with his life before he started down this rabbit hole, that he was miserable and directionless and alone. He didn’t know what he would do with himself when all of this was over, he just knew that while he was taking the case on he was at least doing Something. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that this was always true, that part of his obsession with it was tied to feeling absolutely nothing for his life without it.

and sure enough, a week later and we get the idea that his paranoia is only getting worse, followed by him breaking and going back to search through the footage.

He posts more about his paranoia in february, but it’s in march that he’s scared out of his house by totheark only to have his apartment burned down. he only seems to learn about this march 24th, and he uploads the entry with the news footage on the 25th

while it’s true that he seemed to have taken a break after that upload, he’s back again on 4th with the cryptic text message. It’s between then and the 18th that he’d start his Long tradition of hotel hopping.

the final entry for season 1 is up the next day. We can’t know for sure exactly how truthful jay was when he said he was feeling better in entry 26, operator sickness tends to fluctuate with exposure just like any other mental illness. what we Can say is that jay got exactly 10 days of quiet between his apartment burning down and alex contacting him again, and after he was contacted he was afraid enough to start hotel hopping.

if 10 days is what jay merrick describes as a break, then my god. the implication that in an entire year jay merrick hadn't gone a 10 day stretch without looking at the tapes is, Something.  

this is where things take a real shift, both in the narrative and in jay’s tweeting patterns! this is the period where jay went radio silent working with alex for 7 months, only to forget everything. the only insight we have on how he was doing at this point is what came before, and the tapes he’d uncover in season 2. my best educated guess is to say that he is doing Not Great.

it’s of course after the operator wiped his and jessica’s memories that he starts up tweeting again, he doesn’t remember why he stopped at this point after all. but he’s also far less talkative between entries. in the beginning especially we’d Hear when he was sick, when he wasn’t sleeping, because he’d update frequently enough that he felt the need to explain when he wasn’t able to. this change is most likely due both in part to not feeling safe enough to be as talkative publically anymore, and on his focus on figuring out what’s going on.

that’s not to say that we don’t get Anything from this time period however.

we get quite a lot of talk about lack of sleep, exhaustion, etc throughout the beginning of the year. insomnia and jay staying up late to work on entries is to be expected, but this is the first time that we hear about jay Oversleeping. I’d say he’s long overdue for it considering how much he’s gone through at this point (and for how long), though it’s Also notable as possibly being a symptom of either illness or depression that we Aren’t hearing about.

this one just makes me sad

it’s Relatively quiet after this, with jay making light commentary here and there. the general vibe is that he’s hard at work when, of course, entry 32 comes along.

jay just Stops after jessica is taken. he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even start looking through the tapes for over three weeks. he couldn’t keep himself away from the tapes for that long after he was face to face with the monster or after his house was burned down. that says more about his state of mind than anything else could have.

there’s some mentions of possible sleep issues and jay feeling paranoid (more specifically, not feeling safe anywhere at all), but things don’t Really pick up until march

jay tries to upload entry 37 throughout the day, but no matter what he does he can’t remember the password for the account. this continues on into the 22 Until

“enttry #37“ is uploaded the next day, the footage of alex’s birthday, it’s linked on his twitter, and then six days later

He posts about how the footage he’d found earlier was deleted on his laptop and how he needs to get back Fast. he takes a rest stop on the 30th to charge his laptop and look through the red tower one more time to make sure he didn’t miss anything. and then Nothing until

he doesn’t get back for nearly an entire Week. now, it’s important to mention that there’s been speculation that this was going to be where the original skully reveal would take place, which is believable enough. but whether or not that’s what it was Going to be, the implications with what we have Now are, troubling to say the least. we’ll probably never know exactly what happened here but It’s Not Good. what did he eat? what did he drink? how did he sleep? Poorly, I’d Imagine.

this may also be what his earlier brain fog was leading into. losing track of the days of the week turning into losing track of the days entirely. but we’ll never know for sure

after this we actually get quite a lot about jay’s general discomfort, paranoia, memory loss, and regret scattered over the months. none of it is specific but a lot of it is tied directly to his discomfort with the tapes, which has turned into a constant with every upload. we can certainly tell that he isn’t doing well, but this message is particularly notable because it mentions a specific symptom that we haven’t seen before.

at this point jay’s paranoia and anxiety is bad enough that he can’t sit in silence anymore, and if he’s mentioning it so casually now it’s likely been an issue for a while. jay doesn’t tell us everything, and there’s almost certainly worse that hasn’t been said.

jay has Significant problems with sleeping throughout august that seep into september, to the point that he calls it “worse than usual.” but this is overtaken by his horror at entry 49. jay censored alex beating a man’s head in, but he had to watch it unedited, and it clearly took his toll. he didn’t even want to share it but ultimately decided that the world needed to have it if anything happened to him. but that wasn’t the end of it.

he spends nearly the entire month trying to find Any sign of who this man was. this is a specific aspect of jay’s personality that I think gets overshadowed by the perception of him as stupid. what he is is overworked, over his head, and impulsive, but he’s not stupid. but this is an Excellent example of jay’s dedication (bleeding into obsession).

this is obviously speculation on my part, but I think you can read this two ways (or a mix of them both): either jay is worried that something about the operator wiped away the man’s existence (like being taken made people forget about him somehow). Or he’s motivated by guilt, feeling responsible for having been there the day the man got crunched only to run away, desperately looking for any sign that Somebody had bothered to care about him.

things are relatively quiet after this until just after entry 50

something jay’s mental health really doesn’t need: more evidence of people breaking and entering while he’s asleep. what’s interesting here is that he went much quieter after this, just a handful of tweets relating directly to the next entry. I think you could either read jay being less open about how he’s doing on twitter as him being Well Aware that the people who want to hurt him (or who he Thinks want to hurt him in the case of hoodie and masky) have access to it, and in part because he’s doing so much Worse now.

the end of season two that the start of season three, of course, brings tim back into jay’s life and with it a Much needed distraction from his fear and paranoia. we’ll never know how jay reacted to the news that alex had tried to kill him in the moment, but we do know that it shifted his mindset from passively digging through the old tapes to actively trying to hunt alex down. tim was a Living Breathing lead, something he could actually Grasp Onto. and in light of what was likely something Very horrific that became a new fixation for jay.

he’d live blog about looking for tim from november 28th to march 8th, this was the most active he’d ever been on twitter and I think it absolutely speaks to how desperate he was for this to go somewhere. he even got to do some breaking and entering ! that said, having a distraction didn’t mean that there weren't a few noteworthy.

jay’s Current lack of trust is what’s going to lead to his and tim’s blowout later on. we can’t know how tim would’ve reacted if jay had been honest from the beginning (and it honestly would’ve gone poorly anyways), but tim’s confrontation with jay was honestly using his anger at being lied to as an outlet for the horror he felt at learning the truth of what’d been going on. he definitely would’ve still been angry and hurt, but he wouldn’t have had a direction for that anger. they might’ve started working together sooner.

however at this point jay doesn’t know who wants to hurt him and who doesn’t, he doesn’t feel safe talking to strangers on the street, let alone someone he already knew stalked him for two years. both of their reactions are understandable, and you can see the collision course coming when you step back far enough.

jay is Very quiet about what’s going on with him at this point. there are a few updates about his general paranoia and fear as well as him live tweeting about things relevant to the plot (thinking about coming clean to tim, posting tweets and pictures of trying to find tim after hoodie stole his medication, solving the totheark code that troy forgot to post a key for), but there’s only a handful of standout tweets that give us something new about his mental health scattered throughout the series.

this absolutely does not mean that he’s in a better place of mind, but what it does mean is that he’s being less open about it. tim didn’t know just how bad jay was and he’d been living with him. the fact that we have less to work with at this point is more an indication that he doesn’t feel safe sharing anymore (he hasn’t for a while) and a possible sign that he’s already gone into denial about his health (not wanting to connect it to the operator because of what that’d mean for him).

that said, we can take a look at what’s left for us.

this is from after jay had tim take him to the abandoned hospital for the first time and before the entry of it went up. this is notable because it’s one of if not the first time that it’s been directly stated that buildings associated with the operator can cause sickness. that or we can infer that the operator was actively strengthening its influence on them at the time (which might’ve also contributed to both of their irritability in the entry itself).

I don’t think this is notable because this is jay’s First nightmare, but rather I think it’s notable for him because his memory of it is totally gone. it’d make sense why this’d scare him at this point considering well, the entire series of marble hornets. but it does raise the question of how many more nightmares Weren’t worth sharing to him and how often they contributed to his sleeping problems.

next it’s worth noting that entry 67 messed jay up a lot. likely because it was solid evidence that alex was out there actively hunting them down (and just how close tim had gotten to being taken after he’d been throttled by the operator). He ends up posting about it Twice, as opposed to his previous strategy of not at all.

now finally, Finally. I’d like to talk about jay’s state of mind leading into his death. lets start with the timeline

jay doesn’t say anything at all between entry 74 and entry 75. tim had been running the account while jay was out of it, but jay had come to at least by august first, entry 75 was posted august 23rd. this is jay, and he has absolutely nothing to say.

he’s only just come out of his zombie state, he’s stolen the tape from tim (after trying to give him the chance to come clean), and he’s run off. we don’t get anything else out of him until september 3rd.

jay’s waited almost 2 weeks not only to watch the tape, but to even say anything at all. in my opinion? I think he’s afraid to not have anyone left to trust, let alone tim. he wouldn’t have given tim so much time to come clean himself otherwise, he wouldn��t be afraid of even looking at the tape otherwise. part of it is the sting of having his trust betrayed before, of closing himself off, and then trying to trust again. part of it is that he genuinely cared about tim. he wants to believe in tim, and he’s making it absolutely clear here.

it took him another 9 days to work up the courage to watch the tape, a full 20 days since the entry showing he got the tape was posted (and possibly longer, since we don’t know how long the video took to make). he was That afraid of not being able to trust tim anymore. of course, we know now that what’d actually get to him was realizing that jessica was gone. he’s mentioned before that he blamed himself for jessica being taken. that was what’d kept him going for years at this point and now she’s just, Gone. Gone For Good Gone.

the specific timeline here is a little harder to sus out. the gaps between some entries are too long to really make sense and what we’re getting on twitter aren’t as overt as they have been before. but here’s my best attempt to straighten it out.

jay sits on this for roughly a month, likely trying to process something that he’d used as a crutch to help him keep going bursting into smoke and grieving for someone he doesn’t really know but that he’d cared deeply for anyways. it eventually reached the point where the events of entry 82. he desperately goes back to the tunnel, the last place he saw jessica go in the video, for any last trace of her, any sign that she could still be alive, and doesn’t find any. he tries to reach out to tim, he tells him that he’s seeing things, that the world is shifting around him, that he’s sorry and that he understands why tim did what he did.

we don’t get an insight in what this month was like for jay, but it’s clear that he had a steady decline. he’s scared, he’s alone, he knows he needs help. and then the operator takes him. we never see exactly what happens to him after the seizure, and with the montages we’ve seen from tim’s titty cam it really could’ve been anything. but whatever it was it was enough to change jay’s entire attitude.

this is the last thing that jay posts before entry 77 goes up. it’s hard to say when this was posted for sure, because 77 was up 3 days later on the 16th, but I think it has to take place after jay was assaulted by the operator. jay thought he could call tim beforehand, we saw him try on video, and there’d be no reason to try to contact him through twitter if he knew he had an easier way. what this tells us is that jay woke up after the operator attack, tried to call him an unknown number of times, failed to reach him because the operator was still blocking his calls on tim’s end, tried to reach tim through twitter, and Then went out to try to confront tim likely believing that tim was intentionally trying to avoid him.

that mental image alone hurts me, but this means that even after everything jay was still trying to reach out to him.

at this point jay was in, some kind of denial just like everyone else. it hurt to feel like he was responsible for jessica’s death so he had to believe that she was still out there, he had to believe that it was someone else’s fault. he didn’t want to hurt tim like alex did, he didn’t want to push tim away like brian did, he wanted tim to laugh and pull jessica out of his closet where she’s been hiding this whole time. he wanted to believe the truth wasn’t real because it hurt.

the desperateness that he begs tim to leave his camera Also gets to me. jay’s mentioned for years that the point of recording and uploading footage was to make sure someone would know what happened if “something happened to him.” he pointed the camera away from jessica for 30 minutes and something Did happen to her. that's been weighing on him for years but never more than it has been for the past month.

then when hoodie comes for him, lets him free himself, and runs off one of the first things jay did was go to tim’s medicine cabinet and make a noise of frustration at finding all of the bottles empty. he knew that something was wrong, he knew that he wasn’t thinking straight anymore, and on some level he still believed tim. but there wasn’t anything there, everyone was gone, and he was running out of time.

now, I wanna paint another picture here. according to tim, the footage he found on jay’s laptop was dated the day before jay came to confront him. jay tried to reach tim through twitter at 8pm so it’s safe to assume that it was posted the day before he decided to meet him in person. jay spent october 13th getting his shit kicked in, he was hogtied on october 14th, and the entry showing their confrontation was up on october 16th.

jay follows tim, he searches through the school, and then chooses to keep watch in the building overnight.

jay’s had issues with food since the first day of marble hornets, Literally. it’s possible he snacked before he came to confront tim, or on the way to the school. it’s possible the upload dates are one off (the timeline certainly gets wonky going off of upload dates after this). but even still, at the time he was getting shot he was on at least day two without food (and likely much much longer), and at least 48 hours without sleep (again, almost certainly longer). On Top Of Everything.

jay merrick didn’t stand a chance

there’s so So much more I could get into, especially if I started poking more at the entries themselves or the Implications of some of the things I’ve talked about here. but that’ll have to come another time, I’m very tired jfklsd

[ibrvhims]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎  𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄! blue  here  (  20  ,  she  /  they  ,  est  )  and  i’m  really  excited  to  join  this  group  !  i’ve  been  dying  to  play  greta  —  this  is  actually  my  first  time  so  yes  ,  katerina is  completely  new  but  i’m  really  excited  to  develop  her  here  !  anyways  ,  all  you  need  to  know  is  below  the  cut  ,  and  if  you  like  what  you  see  just  LIKE  this  post  or  hmu  through  tumblr  ims  and  we  can  plot  !  xo

history !

this   baby   was   born   and   raised   in   london   ,   england  to   one   of   the   most   affluent   members   of   the   community   .   her   mother   ,   irina   ,   was   a   highly   regarded   socialite   ,   as   well   as   devoted   church   attendee   .   immense   pressure   is   one   of   the   first   childhood   memories   katerina   can   recall   and   she   has   her   mother   to   thank   for   that   .   on   the   other   side   of   the   spectrum   was   her   father   ,   dea   ,   who’s   a   world   renowned   restauranteur   and   owner   of   a   million   dollar   business   chain   .   katerina   always   strived   for   his   love   and   approval   and   yet   no   matter   how   hard   she   tried   to   get   his   attention   ,   all   efforts   seemed   to   fail   ,   seeing   as   he   was   too   busy   building   a   brand   .

her   childhood   pretty   much   consisted   of   forced   church   going   ,   unwanted   molding   by   her   mother   and   lack   of   affection   in   her   home   life   ,   which   only   led   to   later   permanent   damage   .   at   the   age   of   15   ,   katerina  started  hanging   with   the   wrong   crowds   purposely   ,   hoping   that   her   dad   would   show   the   least   bit   of   worry   ,   but   alas   .   she   started   drinking   regularly   and   gradually   more   excessively   ,   while   picking   up   smoking   and   minor   drug   abuse   .   old   habits   die   hard   and   she’s   still   to   this   day   very   separated   from   the   sober   life   she   used   to   lead   .

in   her   mother’s   eyes   ,   katerina   had   always   been   a   failure  and   that   is   precisely   the   reason   why   ,   no   matter   their   familial   bond   ,   katerina  always   despised   irina   ,   but   she’d   never   thought   of   harming   her   in   any   way   until   the   day   of   her   18th   birthday   ,   where   katerina   witnessed   her   mom   cheating   on   her   beloved   dad   with   one   of   their   closest   family   friends   who   had   attended   the   celebration   .   in   a   fit   of   rage   ,   she   stole   a   huge   amount   of   money   from   the   restaurant   and   framed   her   mother   ,   transferring   the   deposit   to   her   personal   bank   account   and   showing   the   evidence   to   dea   ,   who   then   proceeded   to   sue   his   wife   and   file   for   divorce   .

katerina didn’t   expect   her   mother   to   get   any   jail   time   ,   mostly   due   to   the   fact   that   she   wasn’t   used   to   dealing   with   the   consequences   of   her   actions   ,   but   turns   out   irina   served   three   years   behind   bars   ,   before   eventually   being   released   .   katerina   initially   thought   that   once   her   mother   was   out   of   the   picture   ,   perhaps   she   and   her   father   would   spend   much   more   quality   time   together   and   yet   she’d   been   proven   wrong   once   more   .   the   only   chance   she   has   to   accompany   him   is   in   the   kitchen   when   he’s   trying   out   new   recipes   ,   but   she’d   take   that   all   she   can   get   .

tho   entering   the   restaurant   business   seemed   tempting   enough   ,   she    decided   to   do   something   for   herself   just   once   and   delved    into   her   first   love   track   which   led   to   impeccable   success   ,   as   she   broke  records     ,  and   even   guest   starred   on   tv   shows    .  since   a  slight  pr   disaster   concerning   irina   ,   katerina  ultimately   made   the   decision   to   step   back   ,   and  pursue  her  education  instead  . 

trivia !

my   girl   is   very   fashionable   and   has   designer   packed   closets   ,   she   loves   glitter   and   bling   ,   so   you   bet   she’s   gonna   look   extra   af   every   single   day   .   random   facts   about   her   would   be   that   she’s   loves   all   animals   except   for   any   type   of   bird   ever   cause   she’s   scared   shitless   ,   probably   has   the   messiest   life   you’ve   ever   heard   and   yet   still   manages   to   look   fabulous   in   sharpay   voice   ,   v   much   into   baking   ,   borderline   alcoholic   but   aren’t   we   all   .

katerina   is   fairly   rude   at   first   glance   ,   and   it   doesn’t   help   that   she’s   indifferent   towards   anyone   who   isn’t   part   of   her   circle   of   friends   .   she   doesn’t   hate   ,   hate   is   such   a   strong   word   ,   she   simply   doesn’t   have   the   attention   span   for   people   that   don’t   interest   her   or   she   doesn’t   know   fully   well   to   enjoy   a   conversation   with.  

honestly   has   the   gina   linetti   energy   “   how   was   i   supposed   to   know   there’d   be   consequences   for   my   actions   ”   as   she   literally   does   anything   she   wants   before   her   brain   can   even   weigh   the   pros   and   cons   to   it.    

everyone   can   depend   on   katerina   to   have   a   good   time   ,   for   weed   ,   or   if   someone   needed   a   friend   to   vent   to   ,   she   can   surprisingly   be   all   ears   ,   but   never   follow   her   words   of   advice   .   she   does   mean   well   ,   it’s   just   that   she   doesn’t   know   what   she’s   saying   half   the   time   and   is   quite   reckless   ,   like   ask   her   to   pick   between   two   choices   and   she’ll   advice   you   to   take   the   riskier   one   bc   “   it’s   fun   don’t   be   a   prude   ”

you   can   say   that   she’s   an   enigma   ,   almost   an   intangible   concept   ,   the   kind      of   girl   that   can’t   be   tamed   ,   caught   ,   or   described   .   the   kind   you’ll   see   everywhere   but   can   never   grasp   of   why   she’s   there   .

very   good   at   lulling   people   into   a   false   sense   of   security   —   she   often   gives   off   the   feeling   that   she’s   the   one   oversharing   but   when   you   really   think   on   it   she   never   really   gives   up   any   information   about   herself   (willingly   ,   that   is   )

wanted plots  !

connection wise ??  give   me   everything   i   want   drinking   /   partying   buddies   ,  slowburns   ,   crushes  ,   fans   ,   fwbs   ,   a   girl   squad   would   be   alovely   ,   best   friends   !!!   ,   rivals   ,   toxic   friendships   ,   flirtationships   ,   frenemies   ,   e   N   E   mi   Es   ,   enemies   w   some   sexual   tension   cause   we   love   to   see   it   .   I   WANT   DRAMA   !!!

[lady-plantagenet]

What hasn’t already been said: The Spanish Princess 2

Episode 3: GOOD Grief! (we finally have a good episode on our hands)

To all those of you keen enough to have come back for another segment of ‘what hasn’t already been said: TSP’, as opposed to have just been scrolling when you see this - welcome back! (Scrollers you too <3)

Drawing of Thomas More’s Son AKA who Margaret Pole at this point wants to be the step baby momma of ;).

To anyone who’s seeing this for the first time: what this is a list of observations, jokes, reactions and criticism which occur to me upon a rewatch. I wait every week until Saturday to do this so that I have had my fill of scrolling through the tag and aggregating what has already been said. I tried doing a whole spoof (here where I gave up 10% in) but tbh a) I don’t know the history well enough b) it’s more time consuming than I thought and c) this series is just not as funny or as crazy as TWQ, so it’s untenable. Having said that: This is not a hatepost. I’m not hatewatching this series and nitpicking on purpose but expressing my honest views and trying to find the good in it as well as the bad.

Without further ado...

First Scenes: 

LMAO the way Wolsey suggests they break their alliance with Spain is freaking hilarious because the actor delivers the lines as if he were a high school girl making a personal attack by suggesting the prom change its theme to 70s disco to the chagrin of the peppy up-and-coming rival.

Also @ Henry VIII looking like the peppy up-and-comer’s bff and shy stan with that pencil bite and small smirk when Catherine loses her cool against Wolsey.

I’m sorry... who is Henry married to again?

Also what is Margaret Pole doing at the council meeting?? I’m not saying I don’t like it.

Margaret Pole warning against certain repetitive thinking creating madness :(((

Attempted Naked Twister:

Oh Catherine, what is with you and all the other STARZ protagonists and that weird politcky bedroom talk? Who actually finds this sexy?

‘Catherine you are unnatural’ ooof that line delivery was somehow haunting.

Was the whole ‘I can’t be rushed you are off-putting with your overpowering’ a callback to Arthur and Catherine? Apparently there’s another writer for this episode so I won’t put all subtly past them. 

Scotland:

‘Shitey men’ asdkjashd

Look I’m tired of all this ‘my children won’t be safe’ line getting repeated. Look mate, murder of royal infants and children was not exactly a common occurence, even in cases of deposition. The Princes in the Tower are an exception to this but a very infamous case for that reason. Child murder was extremely taboo. In situations like this with an infant kid, no one is going to bother murdering the babies and taking their thrones, the lords will just vie for power and make themselves de facto rulers and oust the queen. It’s not a question of safety but a question of holding power. Stop giving all women characters perma mummy brains.

Maggie being all caring:

‘Barnaby’ *scoffs* ‘Such an English name’ - OH MAN 0_0 is Catherine mocking them for trying to adapt ? Like I know it’s meant to show her envy for Lina, but it’s coming out all messed up.

Our girl Maggie’s smile screams I’m beating your ass in chess.

Anyhow this is the least histrionic we’ve seen Catherine so far.

Chaplain vs Catherine:

I’m interested how Catherine will feel at Stafford’s execution given that I have noticed this show build up to a friendship between them.

Why is everyone laughing at the whole ‘will you delight us with new schemes’ line was not that funny?

LMAO at Thomas Boleyn’s attempted brown-nosing. 

You know what? Ruairi is a decent actor. When he says ‘so you admit it? you lost the child because you tried to be a man?” the actor conveys Henry’s troubled mind, lowkey scare towards Catherine and bewilderment all in one. The way his eyes do not move but just widen emotionlessly also gives this sense that he is being manipulated (which I guess they are going for with Wolsey). Then the whole choir music in the background.. I don’t know.. I’m liking this, it’s creating a vibe of a king of haunted and increasingly paranoid Henry. I’m sure they are going for that, so good.

Ursula Pole and Mama:

Maggie Pole say ‘riches don’t keep you safe’ with tears in her eyes :’(. Please tell me how this is not her thinking on her parents and granddad Warwick and what befell them ;’(.

I find Ursula refreshing actually, don’t get those types of heroines often. But they are making her similar to a gold-digger, an exhalted marriage was first and foremost considered a thing of honour. Noblepeople wouldn’t speak in such mercenary terms regarding their marriages. 

Post Mary Defiance:

I love the ‘horse’ nickname from Brandon n’awwww

Also just realised what made TWQ so atmospheric - that wierd ‘oooo’ sound effect in the background when a character was being paranoid or worrying. They are using it during Henry’s ‘How is it that I have no sons?’ and it is just... so effective.

Catherine calling them ordinary children... she just keeps striking me as more and more classist. Like ok, I know every royal was... but still, I thought she was meant to see Lina as a friend and equal despite her race and status. To add the race element, this kind of rubs me the wrong way.

Also it is so clear by the end when Catherine states how the king is upset with her, she expects Maggie to ask her about it.. but she doesn’t lmao.

Back to Scotland until Sexy boy fencing:

I love me this soft boi. Angus <3 <3

I like how they address that some men don’t really like killing and that violence isn’t inherent in a man’s nature.

Oh man, are we supposed to look at Lina’s house and deplore the impoverished conditions? It would go for at least 3,000,000 pounds in today’s property market?

Is Catherine being particularly classist again with ‘Why u not becoming a butcher Wolsey, ey?’. 

Though I will admit the ‘but giving meat to the poor is also good’ was one of her only smart comebacks.

Just realised, Catherine’s pink dress pretty as it is, looks straight out of the 1570s... why?

Montage and After:

You guys are right, there is this weird longing between Henry and Wolsey lmao. It is actually insane.

So basically Catherine is officially depressed

OOOFF we have Stafford as regent instead of Catherine. (edit: I suppose it’s cause they go to France which they didn’t historically? Also if Stafford is at home then what is his son later doing in France, why would he be there without his father. This show didn’t think this through)

Meg Singing:

An impassionate speech is not too anachronistic. But despite the title of this post (what hasn’t been said) I will reiterate that 16th century and Medieval people’s problem wasn’t that they were ashamed of their grief and didn’t cry. In fact, crying was somewhat more socially acceptable then than it even is now! Even manly men like Arthur were written as crying in literature such as Malory’s Morte d’Arthur. Obviously you couldn’t go overboard, but in truth crying was indeed often too performative rather than hidden too much behind doors.

Pole and More UWUWU in France and after:

I LIKE THIS INTELLECTUAL FLIRTING

It’s nice to see a depiction of romantic feelings between mature and level-headed subjects.

God Mary Tudor is so beautiful in this scene jesus. and the music when she was being presented was also very beautiful.

Maggie Pole getting given ‘a modest income’ yeah... she was one of the wealthiest peers of her day.

Also Maggie’s lady cousin not lady aunt Frost!

‘shaking of the sheets’ lmaoooo

William Compton cracks the hell out of me. I love this guy. He is just so creepy and twisted yet super keen and friendly. ahaha He looks like a riot, I hope we see him more. lmao tiles.

Also this palace feels very anachronistic almost 18th century-ish.

I like the Louis and Mary sequence, it’s nice seeing him trying to make her feel less scared, but OMFG when he lay on that chair.. for one second I thought they were trying to kill him off already.

Scotland: ‘Love is an open doooooorrrrr’ + Last Scene:

I ship Meg and Douglas ahhhh this soft boi x strong woman match is everything Henry and Catherine could have been.

I wonder... why is Lina speaking in Spanish more than Catherine. hmmm Are they trying to foreshadow Lina’s eventual return home and how Catherine become a true englishwoman?

Conclusion:

7.5/10

I cannot in all fairness believe it. This was actually decent. I’ve given up on historical accuracy long ago so by this point I’m focusing more on how it stands as as drama. I mean, TWQ was also a flop when it came to grasping the complex issues of that era but why do I feel compelled to rewatch it every year? Because it had atmosphere when it came to acting, music, certain aesthetics (though the costumes let me down often). It felt adequately gothic and dark, yet bright and jewel-lish when it had to be, sometimes both at the same time. Some one-liners were also memorable etc...

So far TSP 2 did not have any of this. Everything felt way too off and anachronistic. But not even consistently anachronistic. The music was also often very meh (though I just noted the absence of the spanish stringy theme that kept playing in season 1 - I guess I understand why), the dialogue very clichéd (‘alright lads let’s throw in the words: king, crown, power, fight, battle + other buzzwords and we have ourselves Shakespeare’) and so on... but I saw a change in this episode and I couldn’t initially point out what it was.

Upon rewatch, I identified some of the improvements (noted above) but above all: The producer was different! Boy does it show. Unfortunately, I think she is only for this one episode which really sucks. Come back! There is more chemistry between the couples, less predictable interactions, pervy Compton, cinnamonroll Douglas, better music, more scenic shots (e.g Douglas and Margaret in church) e.t.c. I hope it will match the rest of the STARZ productions in getting better towards the end.

Look it’s no masterpiece. But I’ll give credit where it’s due because at least this time it didn’t leave me feeling wanting and unsatisfied (if that makes sense).

[jisungsmochi]

not my boyfriend - na jaemin

sort of based off the ariana grande song ‘boyfriend, but also sorta based off this post soo yah. 

summary: it was just harmless fun, until feelings got involved and emotions were in whirl wind. but he wasn’t your boyfriend, despite how badly you wanted him to be. you wanted to cherish moments in life, but na jaemin challenged the nature of these moments. 

lots of mentions of making out (i’m an innocent baby so no suggestive stuff hehe) some angst, ALOT OF FLUFF WOOO

words: 6.5k (oh she long long i’m so sorry its probably poorly written and there’s probably some mistakes woops) 

p.s: please feel free to send in requests because i honestly can’t think of many ideas hehe. now enjoy this imagine!! 

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it was one stupid mistake. a mistake that led to one of the most confusing situations of your life. a harmless game of seven minutes in heaven, at lee jeno’s 18th birthday party, involved you, and acquaintance, na jaemin, making out for four of those minutes.

once the bottle head landed towards you, your eyes widened in shock. not because you didn’t want to play the game, but because of who had spun the bottle. jaemin smirked, his eyes landing on you.

“shall we?, i mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to” he shrugged, playing it off.

“of course she has to! it’s no fun if she backs out of it!” haechan grumbled, everyone ignoring his comment due to his drunk demeanour.

you rolled your eyes at the drunk boy, slightly shoving him so that he fell to his side. you stood up, jaemin following your actions as you both moved to the closet under jeno’s staircase.

once you both had situated yourselves in the closet, you decided to start small talk.

“pretty romantic huh?” you joked, watching as he fiddled with the sleeves of his denim jacket.

“uh yeah i guess” he furrowed his eyebrows at you, not breaking eye contact.

“so are we actually going to do this?” you didn’t mean to come off as nervous, but how could you not?

na jaemin was arguably one of the most popular boys in the grade, and you were locked in this closet, with six minutes left on the clock.

you two used to be friends, of some sort during primary school, but drifted due to difference in cliques. you both silently had each other’s backs, always waving or just smiling at eachother in the hallways. but this was all new to you. so what if you kissed him? would things even change?

“we don’t have much time, i’m just going to kiss you, and you can choose to continue, alright?” jaemin stepped closer to you, supporting your sides as your back leaned against the wall. you didn’t know where this sudden burst of confidence came from but your heart beat wasn’t slowing down anytime soon. you nodded slowly, his hands reached to cup the side of your face. his lips lingering slightly, before flashing you another smirk and pressing your lips together. your hands instinctively reached for his shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze, before he pulled away abruptly.

you needed a moment to process what just had happened mere seconds ago. you wanted to kiss him again, the remaining 5 minutes wasn’t enough. you pulled his shoulders closer, his lips landing on your again, as you continued what he had started. it was messy, but it felt good, you couldn’t deny it. his hands roamed your sides as you played with his hair. you didn’t want it to stop.

a knock on the door interrupted you two,

“1 minute to go!”

you both pulled away, trying to regain some sense of what had just occurred.

“i uh, that was, really good” you muttered, wiping at the sides of your mouth.

“yeah it was, i would like to do it again sometime” he spoke barely above a whisper.

“wait what? do you like me or something?” god you felt so stupid, after his reply.

“uh no, but i like the way you kiss me. it’s kinda hot. if you ever want to do it again, just hit me up. kinda like friends with benefits, but not with the actual sexual acts” he came closer to you, his hand stroking your hair softly.

his proposition went against all of your morals as a person. why would you make out with someone you aren’t dating? it was so bizarre. you couldn’t wrap your head around it.

“so what you’re saying is that, we can make out and stuff but we aren’t going to be boyfriend and girlfriend?” you needed to clarify, incase this was some weird prank.

“yeah pretty much, i think you’re cute and all but i’m just not into that whole dating thing.” he shrugged before continuing “how about this, meet me at the back gates after school on tuesday, if you have thought it over and agree”

you bit your lip consciously. he was giving you a choice.

“and times up!!” jeno opened the door, eyes landing on the awkward position of you leaning against the wall with jaemin folding his arms and smirking.

“think about it, i kinda hope you say yes” jaemin turned to you before shooting you a smile and walking to join the rest of the group. he left you struck with confusion.

what has he done?

later that night when you were in bed, your mind drifted to that moment. the more you thought about it, you realised that jaemin hasn’t actually been in a serious relationship. he did have one last year but, it was clearly one sided, leaving the poor girl in shattered pieces. jaemin wasn’t completely heartless, from what you were aware of, he was just unable to commit to anything really. he wasn’t a bad person, at least, you truly hoped he wasn’t. if you were to agree to his bizarre proposition, how would that reflect you as a person? you continued to think to yourself, what if people found out? would that affect both of your reputations? and the final question that kept occurring, would you end up falling for him?

you still weren’t sure if this was a risk you were willing to take. so on the next monday, the day before you were to tell him if you had agreed, you tried to approach him, to test the extent of your classmate relationship. he was standing alone, leaning against a wall outside of a classroom. you debated whether or not to approach him, or just walk past smoothly and see if he approached you instead. you decided to go with the first option as the second seemed to be a bit of a stretch.

“hey! jaemin” you smiled at him widely, watching as he looked up from his phone and slid it into his jacket pocket.

“oh hey y/n, how are you?” he politely spoke, crossing his arms while shooting you a small grin.

“i’m good, uh are you waiting for someone?” you leaned over his shoulder to see inside the classroom.

“ah yeah, jeno is asking some questions and is taking longer than expected. at this rate he may as well just stay there for the whole lunch break” jaemin rolled his eyes.

you nodded, unsure of how to continue. you really didn’t think this through that well.

“not to be rude, but why are you talking to me right now? i mean, we haven’t spoken to eachother at school since like, the eighth grade” he chuckled softly, causing you to become speechless. how were you meant to say that you wanted to bait him into talking to you before you confirmed your crazy decision to agree to being his secret kissing buddy?

“oh yeah i know, i just uh, since the party and everything i thought we should just start talking again. if that’s okay with you” you avoided giving him eye contact, opting to stare at his shoes, which were quite clean with barely any marks.

“that’s okay with me, considering we will be spending a lot of time alone, right?” his words caught you off guard. were you being too obvious? too desperate?

“uhh what do you mean by that?” you played along, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise.

“you know what i mean, the deal still stands. tomorrow. back gates. hope to see you” he winks before, as if on cue, jeno bursts out of the classroom.

“why do we need to use geometry? it’s pointless” he groans before noticing you.

“oh hi y/n! wanna join us for lunch?” he smiled at you softly.

“it’s okay, thank you for the offer, bye guys!” you quickly blurted before turning and walking away swiftly. damn na jaemin and his good charisma. it almost sealed the deal.

the end of school on tuesday, signalled a moment of uneasiness for you. after placing your books into your bag, you made your way through the halls. many students rushing to get home, but you, were debating on where to go. as you trailed to the back exit of the school, your heart was pounding. you didn’t want to regret anything in your life, but this was a massive gamble. it would have been safe to say that when you were kids, you did have a silly crush on jaemin. but that came naturally, almost every girl in your fifth grade class had a crush on him. he was grown now. taller, more reserved, more handsome. you did want to kiss him again. you really did. but was it worth all of this?

jaemin’s figure came in sight, he was tapping away on his phone, probably playing some mobile game. he didn’t notice you initially until you were centimetres away from him.

“you scared me” he jolted back a bit before letting out a soft chuckle. he locked his phone before making eye contact with you.

“i’m assuming you’ve thought it over” he got straight to the point. you clearly weren’t the only one thinking about it.

“yeah, i have. and, i do want to take you up on the offer” you began, feeling anxious on his response. “but not without some concerns!” you avoided looking at him, but still felt his eyes focused on you.

“we can only make out in private, given that you don’t want it to seem we’re in a relationship and all” you began, looking over at him to make sure he was listening. he nodded gently at your words, waiting for you to continue.

“and i guess, just, don’t hurt me. if you don’t want to continue with this, please tell me. i really don’t want to feel used, so also respect my decisions on how this goes as well! because you can’t be the only one who dictates everyt-“

your eyes widened, your posture stiffened as jaemin smashed his lips onto yours. he pulled away instantly, watching as you stared in shock.

“you talk way too much” he mumbled, face still close to yours.

“well, that’s a good way to keep me quiet” you almost whimpered, shocked at how he had so much power over you. yet, you enjoyed every second of it. you decided to kiss him back this time, repeating the exact actions as previously in the closet.

what have you gotten yourself into?

after that day, jaemin started hanging around you at school more. it wasn’t too often that people would suspect you two were a thing, but enough for them to acknowledge that you were friends. you both had haechan as a mutual friend. he was surprised to see both you and jaemin conversing next to your locker.

“yeah honestly i don’t like going to the soccer games but the boys make me go because jeno is playing” jaemin starts ranting to you, causing you to laugh in response.

suddenly haechan approaches, you noticed, rolling your eyes awaiting some sort of teasing from him.

“well what do we have here? jaemin and y/n actually becoming friends?” he lightly joked, shoving both of your shoulders.

“yeah very funny” you groaned before crossing your arms.

“didn’t you know? y/n were hella tight back in the day, right?” jaemin fed off of haechan’s comedic energy, making you softly smile.

“that’s right, i remember when you forgot your swimmers at home at my pool party in the 5th grade so you had to wear your undies” you let out a loud chuckle, causing haechan to also laugh, whilst pointing at jaemin.

to your surprise, jaemin also let out a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair “ah yes, one of my proudest moments, you forgot to mention that your best friend also confessed to me on that day” he retaliated back, damn he was good. haechan also laughed in response to his words,

 “you two are hilarious, i’m glad we can all hang out now! y/n, come to jeno  soccer game this friday! let jaemin pick you up since you guys are now besties” haechan insisted. you shot your eyes to jaemin.

“yeah sounds good” jaemin complied, resulting in haechan to nod in response before bidding a goodbye and running off to get food.

“i thought you said you didn’t like going to his games?” you turned to jaemin who was fiddling with his sleeves.

“uh yeah, well i mean, maybe it’s time to change. might also give us an excuse to make out”. this would be one of the first times you would make out, outside of school, it was an understatement to say you were looking forward to friday.

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“y/n! someone is here to see you!” your brother, chenle, yelled from the front door. he was slightly pissed off due to being interrupted from his video game. you rushed to the door, bidding a quick goodbye to your brother, telling him that you’ll bring him back a corn dog or something. jaemin smiled at you in awe, but quickly masked it with asking you,

“do you know much about soccer?”

you contemplated for a moment before answering, “i guess the basics, sometimes chenle watches it on tv but he usually watches basketball”

jaemin watches you with every word, not realising you both had reached his car. he shook himself out of his short daze and opened the door for you to enter the passenger side, he wasn’t sure why he did it. usually he would let people just open the door for themselves, but he just wanted to do this for you.

once he entered the car, he looked at you, giving you a small smile before leaning in. your heart was pounding, you knew what was coming. he placed his lips on yours like he had many time before, pulling away after a short five seconds. you smiled into the kiss, pulling him back which made him let out a small giggle that just made your heart flutter.

“hey we can’t get carried away, jeno will be grumpy if we show up late!” jaemin muttered, before starting the car. he always seemed to be the one changing the subject, but you didn’t mind, there would plenty of opportunities for you both to continue.

it was half time of the game, haechan and renjun went to the bathroom and grab some food, leaving you and jaemin alone. it was fairly cold that night, which you didn’t expect, as you wore a large grey hoodie and some shorts. jaemin had placed his jacket into your lap, making you blush.

“come with me” jaemin whispered in your ear, sending a small shiver down your spine. he grabbed your wrist gently, leading you towards the car park. you learn against the back of his car, as he began kissing your cheeks. you softly giggled, interrupting him,

“it’s getting cold, put this back on” you referred to his jacket in which he complied. after putting his jacket on, you grabbed the collar of the jacket and pulled him towards you.

“nice move” he mumbled, not wasting time as he leaned in. your hands were tangled in his hair, his hands placed at the top of your hips, slightly rubbing your sides. your back started to ache due to the pressure of being pressed against the car but you didn’t really care at this moment. your head moved to the right as did he, everything just fit in place. he pulled away momentarily, placing his forehead on yours,

“god you’re so pretty”

your mouth opened, a wave of surprise taking over you. he hadn’t really complimented you before, nonetheless look so deeply into your eyes whilst saying such sweet words.

before you could even have a chance to respond, he pulled you close to him, stroking your hair softly.

“let’s get back, the others might be suspicious” he whispered, letting your arms slowly intertwine, as you walked back to the bleachers. na jaemin was gorgeous. confusing. yet, he was the only person that could have ever made you enjoy this situation.

a few weeks had passed since the soccer game. you and jaemin weren’t talking as much as you had hoped, but there was plenty of kissing involved.

he had began to be more touchy with you, which you didn’t mind at all, but it always led you to believe there was something more, until you were hit with reality.

haechan’s birthday party was coming up soon, and you were pretty excited. you were hoping there would be another game of seven minutes in heaven, only with jaemin. he told you that he would pick you up once again, in which you honestly didn’t have any other choice. you were finishing up putting on your shoes, when jaemin rang your doorbell. you opened the door, rather too quickly, causing the corner to hit your toe. you groaned in pain, causing you to fall forward, resulting in jaemin holding you up.

“i’m so clumsy, sorry” your face flushed a bright red shade, jaemin smirking at your adorable reaction. you closed the door behind you before jaemin wrapped his arm around your shoulders. you couldn’t deny the ecstatic feeling you got when jaemin was affectionate with you in the slightest ways. from simple hand holding, when no one was looking, to small brushes of your elbows, any sort of contact made your heart swoon. 

you both arrived at the party, feeling many eyes on you two. jaemin still had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, leading you into haechan’s house which was already a mess. he led you both to the kitchen, where jeno was furiously shoving people away from him in order to grab some water.

“oh there you guys are! i’ve lost haechan, he’s gone wild!” jeno panted, before sipping from the water bottle he tried so hard to obtain.

“ehh he’s probably having the time of his life” jaemin shrugged, moving his hand down to attach to your waist. this caught jeno’s attention, causing him to cough awkwardly.

“i’m gonna go find him, incase he’s throwing up somewhere, have fun you guys” he smiled brightly before rushing off. jaemin pulled you closer to him, his back leaning against the side of the counter with you standing in between his legs. he tangled your fingers together, holding onto them gently.

“why are you suddenly being so soft huh?” you decided to tease.

“i mean, i can stop if you want me to” he retaliated, letting go of your hands dramatically. you laughed at his childish ways, before grabbing his hands again. you placed a small kiss on his knuckles, which made his heart stop. he couldn’t deny the feelings he had for you, but things don’t always go his way. he’d rather have you as just a temporary thing, than someone he had to commit to, putting him at risk of jeopardising the relationship. you stared up at him, watching as he rubbed you surface of your hands so softly. he brought one of his hands to cup your cheek, before leaning in and giving you a soft kiss. you were going to continue, when suddenly haechan came up to you guys, clearly drunk.

“come upstairs, we’re gonna play spin the bottle”

you looked over at jaemin who just raised an eyebrow before guiding you along with him to go upstairs.

to avoid any more suspicions from people at the party on the status of you and jaemin, you both decided to sit at opposite sides of the circle. jeno sat next to you and renjun was on your other side.

haechan span the bottle first, as expected of the birthday boy, landing on the class president, siyeon. it was an unspoken rumour that they had a thing, but never really acted on it, until now. siyeon made her way over to haechan before smashing her lips on his, catching him off guard. everyone just ended up clapping, as they both made their moves.

next it was jaemin’s turn to spin. you were internally praying it would land on you. the bottle span so slowly in your mind, frustrating you as you were curious of the outcome. it finally came to a halt, but to your loss, it landed on nayoung. she wasn’t just any girl. she was the girl who his friends always thought he would end up with. his ideal girl, subjectively. before you and jaemin started your thing, you always saw him and nayoung around school together. rumours always spurred that they were dating but nothing more came from it. so when you were seated there, as jaemin leaned to kiss her. you felt a small fraction of your heart crack. you watched as her arms wrapped around his neck, just like how yours did mere minutes ago. you watched as his continued kissing her as if he couldn’t stop. but then you realised. you two weren’t serious. this whole agreement wasn’t meant to make you feel hurt like this. you weren’t meant to get jealous. you weren’t meant to feel like you were literally going to have an emotional breakdown. but you just couldn’t detach your emotions from the physical affections of na jaemin. and that was your own fault.

jeno noticed how uncomfortable you had gotten, leading him to tap your shoulder. tears glossed over your eyes, you wiped them away quickly before looking at him.

“do you need some air?” he offered, anything would be better than being here right now. you nodded before getting up from the circle, taking one last look at jaemin who was glaring at jeno, who had put his arm around your shoulder.

jeno led you to the front of the house, and sat with you on haechan’s porch swing.

“you don’t have to answer me but are you okay?” he gave you a solemn look.

you hesitated answering, unsure of what his intentions were but you were so distraught, you needed to blow off some steam.

“i’m not sure to be honest. i want to be okay, but everything in there was too much” you tried to be as vague as possible.

“was it nayoung and jaemin?” you heart ached again. why couldn’t it just stop?

you didn’t want to respond, jeno noticed, deciding not to push any further.

“just so you know. jaemin isn’t as horrible as he seemed up there. yes, what he did, was really unfair to you. and yes, we’ve noticed that you two seem to have some kind of thing going on” jeno let it out to you.

“we don’t have a thing” you denied.

“don’t lie to yourself. there is something there. he would never have brought someone to his friend’s party, with his arm slinging around them.”

you didn’t know what to say back to him. jeno just kept looking at you, searching for some type of reaction.

“well it doesn’t look like there will be anything soon. i’m going to end it. it hurts too much” you merely whispered, tears falling at this point. jeno rubbed your shoulder gently, comforting you in the best way he could.

“you’re never going to tell him how you feel?” he pleaded.

“why would i? i don’t want to deal with rejection. can you just take me home?” you sighed in frustration. jeno decided not to talk about it further and drop you off at home, where you ran to your room and sobbed for the rest of the night.

screw na jaemin.

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

unfortunately you had contracted the flu due to being out in the cold for that night without a jacket. you subjected to your mum’s warnings as she continually scolded you on always bringing a jacket. chenle chuckled at your scoldings, causing you to throw a pillow at him, eventually missing each time.

“hey you rat, throw the pillow at me again and i won’t buy you any bubble tea when i come back from school” chenle threatened. you rolled your eyes before groaning, “fine that’s fair, and i would like an earl grey milk tea with pearls thank you very much!” you shouted as he was already one foot out the door. you sighed before scrolling through endless posts on instagram. you stumbled on some photos from haechan’s party, many were just drunk teenagers posing in the most awkward positions you had ever seen.

suddenly, your phone started ringing, an unknown number appearing. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before answering.

“hello?” you asked hesitantly.

“hey, is this y/n?” you recognised that voice, it was renjun

“yeah it’s me, what’s up?” you continued, interested in what he had to say.

“there’s something you need to know. since you’re not at school today, you aren’t witnessing the wrath of jaemin. last night after you left, jaemin pretty much beat up jeno, thinking he was trying to hit on you or something. i’m not too sure of the facts. but anyway, jeno is busted up at the moment and jaemin is just treating us guys like trash, can you please tell your boyfriend to come to his senses?” renjun was clearly irritated with the whole situation, as were you. jaemin had never been the violent type in your eyes. sure he presented a ‘dark’ and ‘edgy’ image for himself. but you had never imagined something like this to come from him. also, renjun calling jaemin your boyfriend, had you even more stunned.

“he’s not my boyfriend” you groaned.

“yeah well tell him that, you need to talk to him. i just thought i should tell you so you don’t hear fabricated lies when you come back.” he let out a short sigh at the other end, clearly at a loss for words.

“thank you for telling me, i appreciate it a lot. i’ll talk to jaemin but i can’t guarantee anything” you were being honest. even though jaemin was soft and cuddly around you, didn’t mean he listened to every single one of your concerns. and last night really didn’t help your relationship at all. this was going to be a mission.

when you returned to school, two days after the phone call, jaemin almost immediately walked up to you and pulled you aside. you took a minute to process what had happened.

“uh hi?” it came out more like a question, as you didn’t expect him to even talk to you, especially at school.

“where have you been? you haven’t been at school” he asked you, with a stern tone.

“i had the flu” you shrugged, not sure where this was going.

“why didn’t you message me? i was waiting for you” he slightly pouted , causing you to pout back.

“i’m sorry, we just really need to talk face to face” you admitted. he nodded in return, walking you to his car. you both sat inside of it, memories of that night rushing back to you.

“okay first off, i’m just gonna come clean and tell you that i beat up jeno. i’m not proud of it. i’ve treated the guys like shit because i can’t get myself to apologise. god what’s wrong with me?” he let out, slamming his hands on the dashboard. you remained calm.

“at least you could admit you were at fault. just let the steam cool off before you go and apologise. they don’t deserve to be treated that way. what was it all about anyway?” you hoped he answered truthfully.

“it was about you. i kinda got mad that you and jeno went to talk. i just thought that, he was going to make a move on you or something. and i heard he took you home which just made me even more mad. i don’t know why. i don’t know what came over me” he admitted. he was so vulnerable, so innocent. you didn’t know what to make of it.

“but did you literally forget that you kissed nayoung right in front of me?” you retorted, slightly fed up with his blame on others.

he opened his mouth before closing it again, remaining silent.

“that’s what i thought. jeno was comforting me because i was upset about you kissing her. i know we both said that feelings wouldn’t get involved but quite frankly i can’t help it. every time you hold my hand or kiss me i feel like i’m over the moon. i get so happy when you message me at night to sneak out so we can make out in the back of your car. i get excited when you hold my waist while we walk in public. i like the way you kiss me like there’s no one else in the room. but that night, made me realise how delusional i was. i think we should just end this whole thing. it hasn’t been such a positive experience for the both of us. i’m sorry, jaemin, that i couldn’t detach my emotions from our physical connection. i hope you’re okay with that.” and before he could say anything back, you got out of his car and walked to your first class, tears threatening to spill, but you had to hold it in. why did it have to be like this?  

days and weeks went by with no contact from jaemin. you had checked up on jeno to see if he was doing okay, and he assured you that jaemin had apologised to him and his friends. which only left you. you felt selfish for expecting an apology from jaemin. what did he need to apologise for? you were the one who caught feelings, even when he stated he probably wouldn’t reciprocate them. god you felt so stupid.

you noticed that he didn’t attend many of his classes, specifically the ones you shared together. it made you worried, even though you hated to admit it. but you cared for him. and you weren’t stopping anytime soon.

it the the final soccer game of the season. jeno was pumped for it, and invited you to come and watch. you decided to go, just to spend some time with the rest of the boys. you lowkey wanted jaemin to come, but unfortunately he had told jeno he wasn’t going to attend. you felt slightly disheartened, expecting that maybe, just maybe he would come to see you. but that was you trying to believe in something that didn’t exist.

as you watched the game intensely, haechan and renjun were shouting beside you, cheering for jeno. you laughed at their silly chants and funny faces they were making at him. these were the moments you wanted to cherish. you received a notification at the moment, taking out your phone:

jaemin: meet me in the car park, i’m standing outside of my car. i need to tell you something

you stared at your screen intently, unsure of what to do next. they two boys noticed, worried due to your expression.

“what’s wrong?” renjun asks.

“jaemin wants to talk, he’s here right now” you told them, they looked at eachother then back at you.

“you should talk to him” haechan suggested, renjun nodding along 

“yeah what’s the worse that could happen” they both shrugged. 

you sort of agreed before getting up and saying goodbye to them. you made your way to the car park, heart pounding out of your chest. jaemin came into view, he leaned against his car. his hair was parted to the right, his skin was illuminating under the lamp post, his jacket draped over his shoulders effortlessly. gosh he was stunning. but he wasn’t yours.

“hey” you approached him quietly.

“oh hey” he almost seemed shocked to see you in front of him. it would have been almost three weeks since you had properly spoken.

“what did you want to talk about?” you stepped closer to him, wanting him to hold you in this cold weather, but you were sadly disappointed when he shot you a confused look.

“i think i just need to be honest with you” he sighed, accepting defeat in the battle of his emotions.

“i had a crush on you when we were in primary. you were the only girl that was ballsy enough to invite me to her birthday party, which just made me so happy that, wow, this little girl had some confidence!” he smiled so widely, it made your knees weak.

“i knew i wanted to be friends with you for the longest time. and we did, but then life just got in the way and we never really got to be close. i had always admired you from afar, that sounds so creepy but uh, i just would always pay attention to you in class. and whenever someone spoke badly about you, i was always on their case. i don’t know if it was out of annoyance or the fact that i may have still had a silly crush on you. but there was just something about you that i just wanted to get to know.” at this point he couldn’t look you in the eyes.

“nayoung was just a distraction for me. i sound like such a dick for putting it that way but i just wanted to get her to help me stop thinking about you. i was so cold to you, prior to jeno’s party. when we got chosen to go in the closet i just went out on a whim and hoped that i would be able to kiss you at least once in my lifetime, even if it was in a stuffy closet” you both laughed, you stepped closer to jaemin, making him look you in the eyes.

“and when you agreed to kiss me whenever i wanted and let me hug you and hold your hand, god i thought my heart was going to explode. i tried so hard to put up this front that i didn’t want to commit because well, i was scared. i’m scared of fucking things up with you. i knew it would be my fault that we didn’t work. and look what happened. i fucked up by kissing nayoung, i wanted to prove to myself that i really had fallen for you. i didn’t feel a single spec of a spark with her. but every time i kissed you, it was like, a thousand bolts of electricity shot through me, okay that was hella corny” he chuckled, before resting his hands on top of yours.

“so what i wanted to tell you is that. i’m not scared anymore. the last time you spoke to me just really impacted me. i needed to reevaluate everything as soon as i could. i’m so sorry it took me this long to finally apologise to you. but i am so sorry for hurting you. that was the last thing i wanted to do. but i wouldn’t take back what i did, because it wouldn’t have led me to this moment. y/n, i have fallen for you. pretty damn hard. you’ve made me cry, made me jealous and made me even beat up my best friend. i’m so crazy for you and i just want you to still feel that for me. do you?” he stared into your eyes with such vulnerability and fragility. you rested your palm to his cheek, wiping away a single tear that shed from his eye. you nodded a bit too aggressively.

“who said i ever stopped?” you smirked before going on your tippy toes to pull him into a short but sweet kiss.

“i truly don’t deserve you. please forgive me” he whined into the kiss, making you smile even more.

“of course i forgive you. even though some of the things you did were completely idiotic and made me want to yank out your hair. i can’t deny that i have strong feelings for you. and i would really like to see how we can be without having to sneak around and only make out. i want to go on dates with you, na jaemin! i want to meet your family and go to cute cafes and eat so much food we both develop food babies! i want to go on an adventure with you, whatever the risks are. i’m willing to take it” you spoke with such emotion, you both ended up crying. jaemin pulled you in for another kiss, this one wasn’t filled with such tension as the first time, but this time it just felt right. he was finally yours.

[ 2 months later ]

you were all hanging out at jaemin’s house, watching a silly children’s movie and critiquing it to the core. you were snuggled up against jaemin’s side, with his arm over your shoulders. he would give you small pecks on your forehead throughout the film, making you blush each time. you would bury your head into his shoulder whenever you felt tired which just made his heart flutter ecstatically.

jaemin decided to throw some popcorn at renjun who had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position. you were all giggling at the situation, causing renjun to stir awake from his sleep.

“ugh, y/n can you please tell your boyfriend to stop annoying me?!” renjun irritatedly groaned.

“hes not my boyfriend!” you decided to joke.

“hey!!!” jaemin pouted from bestie you, crossing his arms.

“i’m kidding” you whispered to him before pulling him in for a kiss.

“gross, why did we encourage them to get together?” haechan rolled his eyes before throwing a pillow at you two.

“let them be!” jeno retorted before throwing a pillow at haechan. you all erupted into a fit of laughter before continuing with the agenda for the night.

after the boys had left jaemin’s house, you prepared to sleep over, as it was the first time, you were more than nervous. jaemin came up behind you and hugged you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“whatcha thinking about?” he mumbled into your skin.

“you” you flirted, turning to face him. he smiled widely, pulling you closer to him so that your chests met. he leaned down, capturing your lips in his. he led you towards his bed, both of you collapsing onto the mattress. you both positioned yourselves to face eachother in bed. he pulled you into his chest, softly rubbing up and down your arm.

“jaems” you whispered.

“hm?” he looked down at you.

“i just wanted to tell you that i love you and you’re super cute” you blushed while looking to see his reaction.

“i-i love you too” he engulfed you in a hug before kissing you all over your face.

“and you are super duper cute!” he giggled, before resuming his attack of kisses on your face.

these were the moments you cherished the most.

[hunnybadgerv]

@theoriginalladya Okay. So I dug this out of the vault, the dusty corners of the very first OneNote files I used to compile all my fic in back in THE DAY. And I know it is rough. The POV is all over the place. It has not been touched in more than 9 years, maybe more, because I think the date on this file is when I moved it into OneDrive for backup purposes.

But I found it. It does not include the actually dating part of their relationship, just the pause and the end of it. If I recall, there is a "we meet again" moment later, but I could be wrong.

There was a quick little moment where she got to meet the whole Donnelly clan and kept a promise Kevin had made to Kenneth, though that was only ever in the outline. Never fleshed that bit out much. The reason it didn't click in Ken's head was he thought that girl was named Nicky because her brother always called her Nyxy (though I abhor that spelling).

Here's the thing. And it is longer than I ever imagined it could be so I'm dropping a cut in here:

Nyx Shepard had never been anyone's definition of normal, though despite that she'd always fit the definition of by the book even before she'd joined the Alliance Military. On her eighteenth birthday, with her best and (admittedly) only friend in tow Shepard went into the family business. Both her parents had served on Alliance vessels since she before she was born. They were her only family and more often than not, she'd been right there with them through shore leave and transfers, base postings and the like. Her life wasn't measured in the typical human female milestones: she had qualified as a marksman before most girls went on their first date, she was an accomplished hand-to-hand/knife combatant by the time most girls where blushing at getting their first kiss, and when other girls were planning for proms and other frilly dances, Nyx Shepard was learning to manipulate the biotic power exposure to Element Zero had given her with an actual Asari commando.

She always knew what she wanted, knew where she was headed, and had spent her entire life focused on one goal. And one happy morning at 0800 station time, Shepard and the girl she'd been best friends with since the age of ten, Lin Apraxin, walked the quarter mile from the little apartment they'd shared for the last three months while they waited for this day--Induction Day.

The two of them had lived spartanly for the last several months on their own--relatively. Both their parents were financing the little pre-enlistment period the girls spent on Arcturus. But that was all over. They had each come to the Alliance Systems station with one duffel bag full of the necessities and they carried those same bags as they strolled through the station just prior to six a.m. Earth Standard Time. The station was relatively quiet, and likely would be for another hour or two. So the rapid footfalls drew their attention and Nyx rolled her eyes after a quick glance back. "Really?" she asked her friend quietly with more than a hint of exasperation.

Lin laughed brightly. "Looks like you made an impression on him."

"Obviously, the wrong one," Shepard replied tersely.

"Nyxy, baby, wait up." At the word baby she stopped and spun on her heels and glared at him. He smiled. "I know you hate it, but I knew it'd make you stop," Kevin explained as he caught up to her. He set his hands on her shoulders. "Look, I just wanted to say goodbye and remind you to write." He shrugged at her as his thumbs grazed the soft skin at the base of her neck.

"Really?" This was not the behavior she'd expected of him when she found out he was a weapons specialist she had been hoping for detached and entertaining. Instead Kevin Donnelly turned out to be bit of a teddy bear with a romantic streak longer than her leg. She had been hoping for a quick fling that would be comfortable enough for her to be able to jump that last hurdle of adolescence. She hadn't expected his attachment, or her own--which she didn't admit to anyone, especially herself.

"I have no illusions, Nyx." He touched her cheek softly, letting his thumb move along her cheekbone as he gazed into her eyes with a tenderness she didn't want to see. "I know you're going and nothing I can say will change this plan. It's been in the works longer than you've known me. I just want you to know that I'm here for… whatever."

All she could do was smile. He certainly is endearing. She touched his arm and gave him a quick peck. As she took a step back he pulled her toward him. Sliding his hand around her waist, he pressed her body to his as he kissed her--trying to show her all the things he had no idea how to say. Eventually, he ended the slow, deep kiss much sooner than he would have liked and he remained completely aloof to Lin's stifled giggles; he took three steps backward before he turned and walked back up the street in the direction he'd come from. More than once though, he'd glanced back over his shoulder at the sleek blonde he'd just kissed hoping it wouldn't be the last time he saw her.

"Wow," Lin whispered from behind her hand which was covering her mouth. The fringe of her ebony bob danced below her earlobes as she giggled brightly, her grey eyes brimming with mirth. "That was … quite the send off."

Shepard laughed and rolled her blue eyes at her tall friend. If you think that was something, you should have been there last night. She glanced over her shoulder once more and saw him looking back at her. Her smile widened a little. Maybe writing him once and a while wouldn't be too bad.

The girls had met with the recruiter a week earlier, the paperwork was all squared away. They just couldn't ship for boot until April 11th. Nyx felt she was rather blessed that a new training cycle was starting on the say of her 18th birthday. For her, it felt like a galactic confirmation of her lifelong dreams. As she pulled open the front door of the recruitment depot she smiled more widely than she'd anticipated. It was best birthday ever. Her parents were standing across the desk from her recruiting officer, and next to them was Lin's father.

"Daddy," Lin squealed as she darted across the room and jumped into his arms.

Her parents just smiled at her as she quietly crossed toward them. She hugged them both, one arm around each of their necks. Shepard didn't notice it at first, but when she looked at her mother Hannah there were tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm proud of you," she said softly holding Nyx's forehead to her own as she'd done since Nyx was an infant.

"We both are," her father broke in, squeezing her shoulder. Nyx looked at her dad as her mother held her close for just a little longer. "You know I've always been so proud of you."

"I know, Da. And so you know, I'm not doing this for you." Shepard was referring to the fight they'd had several times over the past few years. He would try to convince her she didn't need to do this just because of their family; both his and Hannah's families had long histories of military service and their daughter seemed hell bent from an early age to follow in the footsteps of those who came before. She'd told him she couldn't think of a better purpose for her life than to follow her father's fine example, to which he'd responded that she needed to cut her own path not follow someone else's. Though he'd known her direction since Nyx was a girl, a part of him always hoped that maybe she'd find a career outside the service.

"I know," he nodded. "Write while you're gone, or you mother is going to drive me up the wall, even from across the galaxy."

Hannah smacked him on the shoulder playfully. Nyx laughed, in part in amazement of how her parents had managed to make their family work despite the near-constant separation. "I will."

"And the occasional vid will go a long way in easing your mother's mind, as well," Hannah added. Her daughter nodded and she hugged her tightly one more time.

The Marine across the desk cleared his throat and drew the attention of five pairs of eyes. Lin traded words and hugs with the Shepard's and Nyx traded a handshake with Captain Apraxin. He had been surprised, to say the least, when his daughter announced she was joining the Alliance. He'd been proud, but he had never expected this to be Lin's path. Lin and Nyx had always been incredibly close, often the only two children on the ship at the time. Part of him wondered if his daughter wasn't doing this just to please her best friend. The other part of him wondered if Lin was doing it to appease the ghost of her mother who'd given her life in service to the Alliance. He didn't know which impetus for this action to blame, but it was a lot easier to blame it on Nyx. And the Shepard girl knew it, but chose to ignore it, for her friend's sake.

In the ten weeks of Basic Combat Training, she'd written five letters--two to each of her parents and one to Kevin, though she wasn't sure why she'd sent the latter. After that, her letters were more infrequent, but there was an additional correspondent among them. She and Lin were in the same unit up through zero-gravity certification, but they knew that after they enlisted they'd only have about three months on the same training cycle. Lin found herself back on Arcturus Station, for combat medical training, while Nyx bounced around the Sol system every few months for combat training. Her final phase in assault training landed her an invitation to another nine months of training, Special Operations.

Lin responded to her friend's news with the fully expected glee which she knew Nyx was experiencing. This was the wildest, most out of reach, dream come true and Lin was fully aware of what it meant to her closest friend. The Shepards knew what the chance meant to their daughter, and for the plans she had for herself; they knew it was what she wanted, but had reservations. She was a Marine, and at nineteen, that was all she needed. Kevin, however, was the least understanding, he couldn't fathom her elation.

When she'd arrived on the station he was at the docking bay waiting for her. He detoured her with whispers of range time, which was one of the reasons she'd gone out with him the third time. And that perk of the relationship had paid off for her in training. She'd qualified as marksman on every weapon but a sniper rifle, and that was only because she lacked much experience with that class of weapon. After the range he took her to dinner and then they finally made their way back to his place. Nyx had opted to tell him the news in person, rather than in a letter or a vid. But she hadn't found the right time to tell him.

In his last letter Kevin had extended an open invitation and a desire to see her again. She's found herself open to the idea and agreed. But deep down a part of her knew that whatever they were to one another wasn't likely to withstand her drive to achieve what she desired. Once they arrived at his apartment, they fell back into the pattern they'd developed about five weeks before she left for Basic. She found herself surprised that Kevin still looked at her the same way. Shepard also discovered that she couldn't look at him the same way; he was still the same sweet romantic that he had been but she could see something else when she looked at him--expectations. Not any expectations, but what he wanted or needed from her, and she wasn't sure how to respond. She felt it as she laid there in his arms, listening to his heart beat. She wasn't the same person anymore. He asked her about training and told her what he'd been up to. When she returned to the bedroom with a glass of water she also handed him her acceptance letter, in lue of having to find the words she opted to try this method. Despite the disconnection she was feeling, part of her wanted him to surprise her, accept it, be happy for her. But another part of her knew that wouldn't happen. It was a poignant lesson.

Why did I even come here? She'd asked herself over and over as she watched him pacing at the foot of the bed. The outline of his lean muscles clearly visible in the bluish light that permeated the small one room apartment. He'd slipped his jeans back on though not buttoned them, guess he doesn't feel comfortable pacing in the nude. "Kevin," she said studying him closely.

He held up his hand as he finally stopped. He looked over at her. Nyx was sitting in the middle of his bed, leaning back against his headboard, his sheets loosely draped over her. God, she's distracting. "Why?" it was all he could manage. He wanted her here with him, and he'd told himself when he invited her that it wasn't anything more than a chance to see her and spend a few days with her. He'd just wanted to see her again, see if there was more for them. But then she'd laid there against his chest, smiling at him as she handed him that letter then gleefully told him she was shipping out to train in a specialty with one of the highest mortality rates in the service. All the hopes he didn't even realize he had crashed around them.

She pulled her knees to her chest and leaned forward on them. "It's what I want. What I've always wanted," she admitted. He just stared at her. "Some girls liked dolls. I like guns. Some took dance lessons, I was learning knife technique. Prom," she shook her head, "private biotic training. I told you from the get go who I was, where I was going."

Nyx hadn't expected the movement or the quickness; she found herself in the pillows, looking up at him. The warmth of his body permeating the thin layer between them. Kevin just stared down into her eyes. He knew she was right. By their third date he'd found out why she was on Arcturus and before the first time he brought her back to his place he'd known she was destined for a combat specialty. And the night before she left he'd asked her about her dreams and she'd said SpecOps. Part of him had thought she was kidding, or maybe he just hoped she was kidding.

She didn't dare touch him, not until she knew what he was thinking. The kiss was fevered if a bit unexpected. He'd been hovering over her, but when she touched his back he let his body touch hers again. In the back of her mind she knew it, this would be the last time she'd see him. The hurt in his eyes when she finally looked up at him after he'd finished reading the letter had been damning. But it had to be hard hear a woman to tell you she wanted her training more than she wanted you. Kevin was more understanding than most would be, but he still thought of her as something more than she was.

Three days later she was on a transport back to the Sol system. Special Operations Designation. Nyx read the words over and over on her omnitool. She couldn't know that it was just the first step in a journey that would earn her a coveted commission to N-School after a little more than two years of stellar active duty service.

[somekindoftuber]

vld youtuber AU (klance, part 7)

hey so who’s up for some a n g s t

(content warning for this chapter: vomit)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

.

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Cool, mine’s blue. Um, favorite subject in school?”

“....Math?”

“Ew.”

“Lance,” Keith laughs over the mic. “You said no judgment. I was good at math.”

Leaning back, Lance pops his back. “Yeah, okay, fine. Mine was history.”

“Ew.”

They’d been sitting in the Overwatch menu screen for at least a half-hour, Keith indulging Lance in a question swap. “You know,” Keith says after taking a drink of his soda. “When I said we should get to know each other, I sort of expected something more.... Organic than 20 questions.”

“What, my methods aren’t free-range enough for you?” Lance joked, and Keith laughed loud at that one. “Well, you should know, Keith, that I have this tendency to focus on things that I want, and I don’t give up easily.”

Keith went silent for a second. “Things you want, huh?” His voice was low.

Lance felt the heat rush to his face. “U-um.”

“Sorry,” Keith said. “Too much?”

Lance chewed his lip. “Is it too much for you?”

Keith’s tongue clicked through the headphones over Lance’s ears, and when he spoke, his voice was almost sultry. “Nah. Besides, I can be pretty driven when I want something, too.”

Dear lord, this man was going to be the death of him. Now that they’d gotten their feelings out in the open, Lance was discovering a side of Keith he never knew existed - a bold, fearless, self-assured side. And holy shit, was it hot, if a little terrifying. Whatever reservations Keith had about flirting before now were long gone, and it would still throw lance for a serious loop to hear Keith directing low key innuendo at him.

“Here’s one for you,” Keith said. “When did you first play guitar?”

“Oh!” Lance grinned. “I was nine. I had already been playing the piano for two years, but it sort of bored me. I couldn’t get it to make the kind of sound I wanted, if that makes sense? Then my dad got his old acoustic guitar out of storage and got it repaired and restrung. When he played it, I knew it was the sound I’d been trying to find.” His eyes went misty as he remembered the first time he plucked one of the steel strings. “It sounded like heaven.”

“Wow,” Keith said after a minute.

“Your turn. How’d you know you wanted to be a pilot?”

Keith hummed. “I was always sort of an adrenaline junkie as a kid. Raced go-karts, ran track, got in trouble, did some free running. I… spent a lot of time in and out of foster care, which was a pretty numbing experience, so I think maybe I was looking for something to make me feel alive.”

Lance had no idea what to say to that, so he kept quiet.

“I went on a field trip to an air force museum with my school when I was thirteen,” Keith continued. “There was a reconstructed Grumman F-14 Tomcat on display, and when I looked at it, I just thought, I need to be in one of those.” He let out a little laugh. “That’s also where I met Shiro. Or, well, he met me. When I stole his car.”

Lance choked, beating his fist on his chest to get air back into his lungs. “Excuse me?”

Then Keith laughed long and loud. “Told you. Adrenaline junkie. I was a brat with something to prove.”

Lance stared at his computer screen. This was intense, and he had a feeling that he was only scratching the surface of who Keith really was.

-----

October began, and Lance was officially panicking. Because Keith’s birthday was at the end of this month and he really wanted to do something special for it. Now that they were hovering in some bizarre “not boyfriends yet” zone, Lance figured it wouldn’t be too much to maybe go a little further than he would for a friend.

He got out his guitar, a notebook, blank music sheets, and a pencil.

——-

Lance’s channel was gaining followers rapidly. He was no stranger to having an online following, but he had to change his notification settings on twitter to keep his phone from blowing up constantly. He pondered making a separate, locked account for himself, something his friends could follow where he could drop the YouTube persona.

He was sort of envious of Keith’s anonymity online.

And speaking of Keith, there was also the issue of a potential move to Springdale. Lance had looked up schools in the area, and the local community college had a music education program that he could afford. He’d closed his browser and walked away from his laptop after he had that confirmation and spent the next fifteen minutes pacing around the living room, running his hands through his hair until it was sticking up all over the place. It hadn’t felt real until that moment; before that, the idea of going back to school and pursuing an actual career had been just that -- and idea. But now? Now he couldn’t really make excuses anymore. It was all very much within his reach. He just had to muster up the courage to go for it.

Easier said than done.

Lance ended up stress eating half a carton of butter pecan ice cream by the time Pidge came home from class.

Lance posted more Overwatch videos in the meantime, held some more streams. His content was slowing down because he’d taken an extra shift every week at the cafe to save up money. He had no idea what his living situation was going to be come January, but it was safer to assume he’d be on his own and have the money to support himself.

He talked to Keith almost every day. They’d started using facetime, and that did a number on poor Lance’s heart, to get to see Keith’s face while talking to him. Keith was still unfarily, stupidly, irrevocably attractive, even when he was flushed and sweaty from working out or covered in grime from the garage. One time Keith had called when Lance was wearing a face mask, and Lance would have been embarrassed, if it wasn’t for the absolutely hilarious confusion that crossed Keith’s face at the sight.

“I’m kind of big on skin care, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Uh.” Keith’s thick eyebrows pinched together. “I hadn’t?”

Lance smiled as much as he could with the mask drying on his face. “Well, get used to it. It’s a packaged deal with me.”

Keith gave him a little grin then, and Lance nearly swooned.

.

Another night, as they were messing around in Overwatch, the topic of tattoos came up. “Do you have more than one? Tattoo, I mean,” Lance asked while they scrolled through servers.

“Just the one,” Keith answered. “I kinda want more, but I’m not sure what I’d get. You?”

“None.” Lance hummed. “How big is that lion, anyway? I could only see the top bit at the beach.”

“Not that big,” Keith answered. Then there was some shuffling from his end of the voice chat, and he went quiet for a second. Lance thought he heard a click.

“You okay over there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just - gimme a sec - there.”

Lance’s phone buzzed at his side. He picked it up, the motion completely automatic, to see a new text. He used his thumb print to open it, and the entire universe ground to a screeching halt.

Because on the screen was Keith’s lion tattoo, in its entirety, the dark red ink carved neatly into Keith’s exposed hip. At the bottom of the frame, a thumb was hooked into the hem of a pair of sweatpants, pulling them down and away, and at the top, a dark gray shirt was rucked up to reveal a toned stomach. Lance’s heart might have stopped. There was so much skin, all smooth and milky, stretched over a sharp hipbone, the sweatpants pulled down just enough to reveal the tiny beginnings of dark hair below. Lance’s mouth watered.

“You still there?” Keith was asking, a smile in his voice, but Lance.exe had stopped working.

“Jesus Christo,” Lance breathed. “You -- you gotta warn me before you do that.”

He heard Keith huff a little laugh. “Sorry.”

Lance had the distinct impression that Keith wasn’t sorry at all.

-----

Lance might have pulled a few all-nighters in the course of the month. But he was running out of time, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until it was perfect. This was for Keith, for his birthday, and Lance absolutely did not half ass things like that.

Pidge just rolled her eyes at him and went back to her thesis, heedless of Lance’s internal crisis as she tapped away at her laptop.

He was finally, finally ready to record on the 18th. It took at least four tries to get one good take, and then he had to record backup vocals, additional guitar, piano. It took three days to get the song right, and he didn’t even have a video. A blank screen would have to do.

He set the video to post at 8:00am the next morning, October 23. He really, really hoped Keith would see it, and Lance listened to the song one last time before he went to bed.

I was wondering through, I’d never heard your voice You were just an idea on a screen I was belly up, dried up, a fish out of water Pretending that I could breathe air

But then I met you, and my world burst into color Where was I going before you came my way I don’t know, I don’t care, and I don’t think it matters I’m just so glad that I met you

I had no direction, you handed me a map And it’s pointing me your way I hope that’s alright, ‘cause I sort of can’t help it, You’re drawing me to you, and I don’t want to stop

Because my world is all color now that you’re in it So bright and beautiful, just like your smile And no matter what happens, I want you to know Darling I am so glad that I met you.

In the description, Lance wrote “happy birthday” with a heart emoji, then clicked “schedule video” and let the fates have it. He went to bed with a nervous jitter in his veins.

The next morning, Lance was still anxious as hell, so he went for a long run through the brisk autumn air. After five miles he came home and made some coffee, as it was brewing, his phone rang.

Keith’s number was on the screen.

Lance cleared his throat and picked up. “Hey Keith!” he started, happy that the words only shook a little bit. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Keith answered. His voice sounded strange. “I, um. I saw the video you posted.”

Lance felt his whole body flash hot as he bit his lip. “Happy Birthday, Keith.”

There was shuffling on the other end of the line. “That was for me?”

“Yeah.”

Keith was quiet for a long time. Then a sudden wet sniffle came through, and Lance felt himself panic. “Keith?”

“Sorry,” Keith’s voice cracked. “Sorry, I just--” he broke off with another sniffle, louder this time. “I’m not used to that. To people doing nice things for me.”

Oh god. Lance had made him cry. And the sound was so sad that Lance felt his own eyes sting.  “You okay?”

Keith laughed, the sound wet and strained. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just. Wow, Lance.”

“Get used to it,” Lance said softly. “I’m definitely the type for grand gestures.”

Another small laugh, then some more sniffling. “What did I do,” Keith whispered, “to deserve someone like you?”

Lance leaned against the counter top behind him, his heart hammering in his chest. “I ask myself that all the time.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Keith groaned, but Lance could hear a smile in his voice. “I have to go to work in an hour. How am I supposed to concentrate now?”

“You’re working on your birthday?”

Lance heard a grunt and the scrape of a chair. “I always do. My birthday’s never been a big deal to me. I think Shiro wants to barbeque tonight, though.”

The coffee maker beeped, and Lance poured himself a cup. “Would it be alright if I made it a big deal?”

Keith hummed. “If that’s what a big deal is to you, then I guess I’ll just have to get used to it, won’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess you will.”

-----

Pidge forwarded an email to Lance the next week. A science conference was being held in Charlotte at the end of the month, and she was going.

“I’ll probably be gone the whole weekend. I’m driving with some classmates, so you can have the apartment to yourself.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Or maybe have someone over.”

“Pidge,” Lance chided, rolling his eyes as she laughed into her coffee.

She was right, though. Lance could have someone over. Of course, there was only one ‘someone’ in mind - but would that be too fast? To ask Keith to come stay the weekend here? Alone with Lance?

His face went hot at the thought. A whole weekend alone with Keith.

They’d only been apart from each other for a little over a month, and facetime was nice and all, but Lance missed him. In person, Keith exuded this… energy that didn’t come through a phone line or internet connection. It was sort of intoxicating, making Lance want to get closer and closer. But would that be too much?

Lance mentally beat himself up for an hour before messaging Keith on discord about it.

LanceyLance Hey so Pidge is going out of town for a conference thing just after Thanksgiving. Would you want to come down here to chill? We can livestream or smth

Keith uh yeah I think that would be okay. what days

LanceyLance nov 28-30

Keith okay cool let me check some things and I’ll get back to you

Lance wondered if “almost throwing up from sheer nerves because I might get to spend a weekend alone with a hot boy” was a good reason to call into work. He went in for his shift anyway and was only slightly distracted. On his break, Lance checked his phone and found a new message from Keith on Discord.

Keith so that weekend looks okay, I put in for time off

LanceyLance cool!

Lance ruined the next three drinks, his heart in his throat.

Later that night, he got on a voice chat with Keith, his heart pounding despite him telling it over and over to calm the hell down.

“I was thinking we could do a livestream, maybe some Overwatch?” Lance said as he picked at a cuticle. “You could be my special guest.”

Keith did that little airy chuckle that made Lance shiver. “As long as you don’t ask me to sing.”

“No promises.” Biting his lip, Lance took a breath. He might as well ask. “You sure you’re okay with this? It’s not, like, moving too fast?”

Keith hummed. “No? I mean, I figured we were just gonna hang out… Why?” his voice dropped. “Did you have other plans?”

“No,” Lance squawked, cursing how his voice cracked. “No, I mean, you said you wanted to go slow, so I was just thinking we could just play some games, maybe watch a movie or go to the marina. That’s okay, right…?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed, and Lance could hear the smile. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

A hot wash of embarrassment hit Lance, and he covered his face and groaned. Keith laughed a little. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lance’s voice was muffled by his hands. “Yeah. I just -- jeeze. I must sound desperate or something.”

“It’s not just you,” Keith said softly. “I mean, same, I guess? I know I said I wanted to take this slow, but honestly, it’s turning out to be harder than I expected.”

The admission was unexpected and sent Lance’s blood pressure through the roof. He could already tell it was going to be a struggle to keep his hands to himself.

-----

One week until Keith’s visit. Pidge was packing her bag early and giving Lance absolute hell about it.

“Use protection,” she said, stuffing a shirt into a suitcase. Lance sputtered.

“Oh knock it off!” He shrieked. “He’s coming to hang out. That’s it!”

Pidge shot him a skeptical look as she folded a pair of jeans over her arm. “Sure, sure. Just do me a favor and disinfect any surfaces you decided to ‘hang out’ on.”

Lance threw up his arms in defeat, then went to his computer. He and Keith had already planned out their livestream, and decided it was close enough to make an announcement.

Lance! @lanceylance Hey everyone! Next Friday (11/28) I’ll be holding a livestream with special guest @k_redlion! Stream begins at 4pm eastern. Be there!!

.

Pidge left early Friday morning, and in the four hours until Keith was supposed to arrive, Lance did one of the most thorough cleanings of the apartment he’d ever done. He dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed and mopped, did laundry and the dishes, changed the sheets on his bed, washed the spare set of sheets for the pull out sofa.

Satisfied, he jumped in the shower and gave himself and equally thorough scrub down. He was all nerves as he dried off and dressed. He was admiring his handiwork in the living room when his phone buzzed.

Keith made it into town, be there in 10

Lance bounced on his heels and went outside to wait. After a few minutes, a dark blue sedan with Virginia plates pulled up and into a parking spot. The engine shut off, and the door opened to reveal Keith, in his leather jacket with his hair pulled up high.

“Nice car,” was the first thing that came out of Lance’s mouth. He internally groaned.

“Rental,” Keith said, closing the driver’s door and going for the back seat. “I love my bike, but five hours on it is a bit much, especially when it’s cold.”

Lance took Keith’s duffel bag for him and led him up to the apartment. He’d set up their streaming area in the living room where they’d be closest to the router.

“The stream isn’t for another three hours,” Lance said, setting Keith’s bag on the chair. “Wanna relax until then?”

Keith slipped out of his jacket, revealing a dark gray sweater that stretched nicely across his chest. “Sounds good. That drive is a little tiring.”

Once Lance had gotten them both glasses of water from the kitchen, they decided on YouTube fail videos, sitting next to each other on the couch, close, but not too close. Keith’s laugh was such a nice sound, and Lance couldn’t help but lean a little in his direction. After an hour’s worth of cats and people slipping and falling, Keith grunted, grimacing.

“You okay?” Lance asked.

Keith gave him a smile. “Yeah, my stomach’s kind of upset. That gas station poptart might not have been a good idea.”

Standing, Lance moved towards the kitchen. “I’ve got some pickled ginger in the fridge, would that help?”

Keith followed him. “Yeah, probably.”

As soon as Lance opened his fridge, horror dawned upon him. “I didn’t get us any stream snacks!”

“It’s not a big deal?” Keith said slowly. Lance handed him the jar of sushi ginger and shook his head.

“It totally is! We need proper junk food for streaming.” He pursed his lips and tapped his chin. “Are you okay if I hit the store? It won’t take long.”

Keith shrugged with the jar in his hand. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll just hang out and rest.”

He showed Keith where the forks were, taking a little delight in seeing how Keith ate the ginger straight out of the jar just like he did, then grabbed his shopping bags. “I’ve got my phone, text me if you want anything!”

The drive to the store was short, and Lance sped through the aisles with a basket on his arm. Gourmet sodas, the nice veggie chips, lemon cream cookies, a package of fresh strawberries. He’d take Keith out for dinner, maybe Vinnie’s again. This weekend was going to be awesome.

On the way home, however, Lance got stuck in stand-still traffic - he could see just far enough ahead to tell there had been an accident. And there was nowhere for him to turn off to for another few hundred feet, so he was stuck. Frowning, he pulled out his phone and shot a text to Keith.

stuck in traffic, might be a little late

He put Pandora on his phone and turned up the volume, shifting his car into park.

By the time Lance made it back to the apartment, he’d been gone for more than an hour and a half. The living room was empty, but Lance went straight for the kitchen. The stream was set to start in 45 minutes, so they needed to start setting up. “Keith?” Lance called as he stashed the groceries in the fridge. “You good, man? We should get started soon.”

There was no answer.

“Keith?” Lance poked his head out of the kitchen. “You here?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see if he’d missed a text as he went towards the back of the apartment. Rounding a corner, Lance stopped. His phone clattered to the floor.

Just outside the bathroom, face down in the hallway, was Keith.

Lance slid on his knees towards him. “Keith!” Reaching for him, he turned Keith over, and gasped. His face was bright red, his eyes screwed shut. He was sweating profusely and burning up with a fever. “Keith!” Lance called again. “Hey, man, answer me!”

Keith’s eyes flickered. “L-lance?” he grunted, his voice weak. “It hurts, oh god Lance, it hurts so bad--”

Adrenaline was dumping into Lance’s bloodstream as he went into full panic mode. “What hurts? What’s wrong? Keith!” But Keith stopped responding, his breathing sounding wheezy and shallow.

“Shit,” Lance muttered, clutching Keith close to his chest. “Shit shit shit!”

His phone was five feet away. He should call 911. But who knows how long an ambulance would take and the hospital was five minutes away, he could get there faster on his own--

Lance had grabbed his phone and hoisted Keith into his arms before he realized it. And shit, Keith was heavy, making Lance stumble and lean against a wall more than once as he made it out of his apartment and to his car, where he dropped  Keith on the back seat.

He’d never driven so aggressively in his life.

Lance screeched to a halt outside the ER doors, and barely managed to put his car in park. He opened the back door and pulled Keith out, hooking one of Keiths’ arms around his neck and half-carrying him inside.

“Hey,” he called out. “Hey, I need some help here--”

At his side, Keith made a choking sound, then curled in on himself and vomited.

The whole world became too fast and too slow. Several nurses ran up to them, pulling Keith away. A clattering gurney was brought out. As Keith’s limp body was hoisted on to it, Lance barely registered someone talking to him, asking him what happened.

“I don’t know,” Lance’s throat was closing. “I don’t know, he was fine two hours ago--”

More questions, but Lance couldn’t hear them. All he could focus on was Keith, unconscious on a hospital stretcher, disappearing down a hallway as nurses ran beside him.

.

TO BE CONTINUED!!

(don’t worry guys, Keith is gonna be fine!! But Lance doesn’t know that OvO)

[theparanormalperiodical]

The Thornton Heath Poltergeist - The Most Haunted Places In The World That You NEED To Hear About #2

January.

A time of self doubt as you take on the latest fad diet. A time of personal struggle as you return to the 9-to-5 and question why in the hell you decided to work in this goddamn office. And a time of thirst as you realise Dry January does indeed include Echo Falls despite their Rosé being mostly sugar and aesthetic.

Is there any hope left in the world?

Oh, dear reader - you didn’t tap on this blog in the hope of reading some article about a cheerful, positive topic like little rabbits with big flopsy ears, did you?

You’re here for the dead. And the demonic. And all manner of terrible things. 

Goodbye, Patches - hello, Poltergeist.

Today, we are going to be discussing one of the most iconic paranormal cases from the UK that no one has ever heard of: the Thornton Heath Poltergeist. 

But it turns out that there’s not just one poltergeist in Thornton Heath. 

Oh, no. 

There’s two. 

And these two pesky spirits are far from alone:

Croydon might not sound like the setting for the next cult horror hit, but this London borough is actually known for its rather macabre history - and the legacy of its dark past.

Whilst your chowing down on a Gregg’s sausage roll you might hear rumours of one of Elizabeth I’s maids-in-waiting traipsing around a school, and perhaps you’ll even see a few children who were killed during the war skip past the local Chicken Cottage.

On top of that - like most areas of London - Croydon is actually a relatively ancient town, with the first settlements appearing in the 6th century. 

This place clearly has a lot of paranormal promise.

However, despite setting the scene for 2 key cases of poltergeist activity, though do appear to be unconnected. Nevertheless, together they provide a lot of insight into a specific form of supernatural activity that tends to get forgotten.

This is especially true since poltergeists have dominated the horror genre for many a year, inspiring iconic films such as Poltergeist (1982), and litter stories which involve any trace paranormal activity.

The thing is, although frequently mentioned, the actual concept of poltergeists is kind of ignored, particularly the debate surrounding them. These 2 cases, however, provide an overview of the different approaches to poltergeist activity:

One case looks into debunking the paranormal, whereas the other presents the typical haunted house case you clicked to see. 

So, today’s article is going to take us through the 2 poltergeists of Thornton Heath, and the paranormal theory behind poltergeists. 

Strap in folks, and let’s get spooky.

First, What Actually Is A Poltergeist?

Anyone speak German?

Poltergeist is a mashup of two German words, and it literally means “noisy spirit”.

Based on that translation, it is a type of spirit who has a thing for physical disturbances. Loud noises, objects moving, biting and pinching are the common symptoms of such a haunting. And despite sounding pretty minimal - well, maybe not the biting and the pinching - such poltergeist activity often represents the first traces of far greater hauntings. 

But unlike most paranormal theories, it turns out that poltergeist activity is pretty well investigated (as this post will demonstrate). 

Heck, poltergeist activity has been reported since the 1st century!

It is claimed that it lasts typically around 5 months, but some say it can stretch out to several years.

On top of our knowledge of the duration of such activity, poltergeists allegedly haunt people, not places - a bit like demons. This does contrast with the 1972 haunting, but we all know that supernatural theories lack the accuracy we expect of an exact science.

And so we come back to the debates and the debunking which always ends up stalking the supernatural. It’s for that reason that Poltergeists are such a valuable component of spiritualist theory because of the intense debate and study surrounding them, as the 1938 case will show. 

Indeed, the first of the scientific theories debunking poltergeists swap the paranormal for the patriarchy.

It's called the Naughty Little Girl theory.

Obviously, it suggests that young girls create activity to get attention because women can’t breathe without doing it for attention, right? The Conjuring 2 is one of the few films that picks up on this concept, showing its use by the media as it was utilised in the real life case.

A less misogynistic theory instead claims that the paranormal activity could be down to seismic activity or water stress, creating noises and physical disturbances often blamed on poltergeists.

Or, it could all come back to the theory of psychokinesis:

It claims that when we are stressed, our fucked-up brains can have a physical impact on the objects around us, making it look - and feel - like we are living in a perpetual Paranormal Activity film. 

Well, that or a rom-com; it turns out the poltergeist was really within us the whole time...

The 1972 Case - The Official Thornton Heath Poltergeist 

Welcome to the the era of the occult - the 1970s. 

The obsession with the paranormal experienced a revival in the late 20th century thanks to the affectionately named Satanic Panic and the rise of hippie-dom. And because so many reports of the paranormal crop up in this era, we have to be wary – blaming shit on the paranormal was nearly as common as institutionalised racism, ensuring that claims were often amped up by fear.

Got your pinch of salt to hand? Good. 

Our story begins in the heat of summer - it’s August 1972. 

A family are fast asleep after, well, I don’t know, what did people do in the 1970s? Listen to too much ABBA? 

Anyway - their peaceful slumber is interrupted in the middle of the night when a radio switches on all by itself and blasts out full-volume-raise-the-roof level musings from a foreign radio station.

This is where the activity begins. 

The following nights, lights turn on and off by themselves, mirroring the first hour of a Paranormal Activity film before Katie makes some off the cuff comment about being besties with a demon during puberty. 

Yet despite the suggestions of something supernatural, it suddenly just chills the fuck out. 

Well, that is until the most wonderful time of the year! Only for this famalam, this are about to get a little less wonderful, and a little more what the fuck. 

Probably in the midst of an ABBA jam-sesh, a small antique figurine is plucked off a shelf by an invisible hand, and flung across the room, hitting the patriarch of the family with such a force that it knocks him to the floor. 

If that wasn’t enough for one day, the Christmas tree then joins in the freaky festivities, and starts shaking.

And that only just scratches the surface of the supernatural events soon to haunt this family.

Cut to a few days later, and its New Year Eve.

Ok, right, let’s be honest here: any activity reported was at times when there would have been a couple of bevvies, a few late nights among friends and family… 

Who hasn’t seen a demon picking cashews out of the mixed nuts bowel when they’re a third of the way through that bottle of Echo Falls?

Regardless of my suspicions, they supposedly started to hear loud footsteps upstairs, and during that very night, a member of the family awoke to see a very tall and very angry man staring at him, giving off very threatening vibes.

But it wasn’t just the son of the family that saw these mysterious goings on.

Some visitors to the house reported similar activity:

At a dinner party (*sigh*) a door began to violently shake, nearly coming off its hinges. The living room door then followed suit, and swung open. Every single light in the house then began to follow the trend and turned on and off.

No matter how many bottles they were deep by then, there’s no doubt that shizz was getting weird. 

In response to this shizz getting weird, the family did the right thing: they called themselves a priest, and got him to check the shizz out. 

However, as a result of his holy presence, the activity worsened. A medium shortly followed, and on his visit deduced that this was a farmer of Chatterton. A quick visit to the library and a rifle through the odd archive later, and the story is confirmed:

This was the spirit of a farmer from the 18th century, and as the medium claimed, he was angry that these trespassers were on his land. So, like all landlords, he kept his cool and was trying to treat these people with the fairness and respect that all landlords hold dear.

Nah, who are we kidding - instead of charging them £60 for not pulling a weed out from underneath the wheelie bin, he manifested as a poltergeist.

The escalation then, uh, escalated.

Following the appearance of the ghost patriarch, his wife then turned up and made a point of targeting the matriarch of the family. 

Despite the coincidence of most claims of boozy nights on the heath, these hauntings that mirror the heads of the household really support the case as it sticks to this line of opposition to the “intruders”.

The ghostly matriarch’s favoured haunting was following people up the stairs; when you turned around, you would see wisps of a grey bun and the outlines of a faint figure which would then vanish into thin air. 

But on top of the wife getting involved, the farmer himself made a commitment to being spooky AF.

Its for that reason that the creepiest haunting of the year award goes to the farmer. 

Why?

Because he would turn up on their TV. 

Like, I don’t know if he was on bloody Blue Peter à la IT, or if the screen would go blank and this bitch would rock up and just be there…

But just like fuck that, no thanks, congratulations, and just take the award ugh.

So, like anyone would, this family were like nope screw this, packed up shop, and moved the fuck outta there. After they moved out the activity ceased - like all hauntings tend to do, confirming that it could be due to their trespassing. 

Well, or that it was all faked but as the gullible young woman I am, I’m going to deny all traces of this family’s excessive drinking and say that the farmer did indeed turn up on Blue Peter and take a badge with him to the afterlife.

For privacy reasons, the actual address is unknown to the public for the obvious reason that innocent families don’t want some Jake Paul wannabe pulling up in a jacked up Ford Fiesta and whipping out a GoPro to make a quick buck on YouTube.

Heck, I don’t know if anyone lives there now! But this is still recognised by paranormal fanatics are one of the greatest hauntings to come out of the UK. 

Well, I say the greatest…

It has to compete with the Thornton Heath poltergeist of an odd 40 years before.

The 1938 Case - Thornton Heath Poltergeist 2: The Prequel No One Asked For

Now we turn to the former haunting of Thornton heath in 1938.

But this poltergeist isn’t set against the scene of some cosy pre-war family home, nor are any long dead farmers getting involved. 

This story, on the other hand, follows the scientific study of the paranormal, and to this day is an unsolved mystery that has left both investigator and individual alike without answers.

And it starts with this bloke called Nandor Fodor.

Fodor lead the argument that poltergeists are manifestations from the subconscious mind, and to prove his claims, he investigated the tales of terror that had been experienced by one woman in a small corner of Croydon.

He followed his scientific studies all the way to a little place called Thornton Heath. 

Sure, this case could have been linked to the Chatterton farmer, but the focus of their investigation was on the nature of paranormal beliefs, so there was no study of what spirit could be behind it. 

All we know regarding the haunting is that the victim of this poltergeist was a woman only known to us as Mrs. Forbes. She was studied at an institute, and in an attempt to be sure she wasn’t creating the hauntings, she basically had to get undressed in front of them, and wear special clothes to prove she wasn’t concealing anything. 

Nevertheless, the weird shizz we saw in the 1970s still seemed to follow her.

Dishes would float in mid-air and then crash to the floor, glasses would suddenly appear in her hand (*insert middle aged facebook meme with a minion in the background*), and objects from her home would appear at the institute.

Her house was 10 miles away from the institute. 

But beyond her possessions appearing out of thin air,  Mrs. Forbes frequently described different entities that would appear and attack her.

These beings included a vampire which would on occasion bite her neck - and left her with two physical wounds in her neck, and a tiger which reached out and scratched deep gashes in her arm. Just like the vampire’s supposed attack, these markings were also found on her body.

However, one of her claims went too far, and was used to challenge every single incident she claimed was caused by a poltergeist:

Alongside the vampire bite and the tiger’s scratches, Mrs. Forbes also had several burn marks scarring her neck. Seemingly coming out of nowhere, Forbes believed it was due to the spirit of a man strangling her with a necklace. 

However, shortly after making this statement, she professed a deep desire to kill this man. 

Fodor drew from this that she thought the man was inside of her, and thus she tried to kill him by choking herself. That’s the burn marks explained - what about everything else? All it took was a quick check of her body and clothing to find small items concealed under her left breast.

That’s right; she has conjured up this “poltergeist” out of thin air.  

Having connected the dots, Fodor deduced that she was both schizophrenic, and burdened by repressed sexual trauma. 

Another day, another hoax.

Unsurprisingly, faked activity vis-a-vis this case is pretty common when it comes to the paranormal, and this label is pinned by non-believers onto, well, basically anything we just so happen to report. 

And despite how frustrating this can seem, it is a necessary disturbance in our research of the supernatural. In fact, the original Thornton Heath story brings this into play when we discuss poltergeists, particularly as their basis centres on physical disturbances which can be both faked or misinterpreted.

Croydon might seem yet another area of London Prince Andrew would pull out of the hat to defend his reputation, but it instead represents a much wider discussion of the paranormal.

From the fake to the unknown, from the mysterious to the mentally unstable:

How we investigate the supernatural starts in a little place called Thornton Heath.

What do you think?

Did the family really witness poltergeist activity first hand?

Or was it all just conjured up by women that purely wanted attention i dont know about you but i just love attention oh gimme attention look I WANT ATTENTION NOWSUFH[HB’[Egb’???????!1//1/1/1!//????

Ahem.

Wanna hear about more spooky shizz like this? Wanna hear about a new haunted location everyday? Then go ‘head and hit follow!

[bad-at-names-and-faces]

The Young Diplomat

Chapter 1: In Arendelle Harbor

Two decades after the great freeze, a new ambassador has arrived from Corona, along with his young private secretary. While the young man's family was originally from Arendelle, he knows little of his origins. They must wait to start any major business until the queen has emerged from confinement.

(picture by Anton Mauve, 1855)

His Excellency Franz Meyer, Ambassador from Corona, sat in his cabin. The ship was at anchor, awaiting permission to dock in the harbor. He knew he had time on his hands, as it was still early morning, though as far north as they were this close to midsummer, sunrise had been hours before. As many times as he was posted to northern countries, he never could get used to the hours of daylight in the summer and darkness in the winter.

Under normal circumstances with so many hours to wait, he would have called his private secretary to his cabin to take care of business, but as it happened, his cabin was facing away from the town, and as lovely as the fjord was, having the town in view would help with his instructions to the budding young diplomat in his employ.

It was a beautiful July day. The Ambassador looked at his diary, and realized the significance of the date here. It was, in fact, twenty-one years to the day. He and his colleagues didn't talk about that when they were in Arendelle. It was something of an agreed upon diplomatic taboo. No one was quite sure who exactly had agreed upon it, but none dared bring the topic up either in Arendelle or with any diplomats from Arendelle. Meyer himself had been in Corona at the time, about to embark for the Southern Isles. That trip had been delayed as his kingdom tried to decide if they needed to have a position on matters.

On this assignment and the recent voyage, Meyer had hoped his new secretary might have some more information for him about all that, as his mother had actually moved to Corona from Arendelle shortly before his birth, but on their voyage here, he had only learned that the poor Mrs. Nilsen avoided talking about the past, other than to tell stories of her late husband, the fishing boat captain. And his death had come close enough to those events that his widow was given a pension, sent all the way to Corona each year.

This struck the Ambassador as curious, though he said nothing to the young man, who seemed quite genuine in his love and trust in his mother. The man's talents were evident, though he felt somewhat guilty at how much of the unbridled naive enthusiasm would have to be broken in his chosen profession.

Lars Nilsen had only finished his training in Corona, and he had only made a few visits to neighboring islands before this. He looked even younger than his twenty years, in spite of being on the taller side of average, and trying to grow a small mustache. Meyer wondered if this attempt to look older might be backfiring, though the clean shaven red-haired boy he was at the beginning of the sea voyage looked easily five years younger. 

The Ambassador heard a tentative knock at his cabin door, and stood up to walk over and open it himself, since he had no wish of staying in his cabin for much longer. He hoped the view of the town might help his employee remember some more information, but at least he could give him some ideas for places to ask if anyone had information on his family. Mr. Meyer opened his cabin door.

“Your Excellency!” gasped the young man standing outside as the door opened, “I didn’t wish to disturb you.”

“Mr. Nilsen, as I’ve told you before, you may simply call me Mr. Meyer when we are in private,” said the Ambassador, “and do not worry about disturbing me, I was on my way up to the top deck for some fresh air. You may join me.”

“Thank you, Your... I mean, Mr. Meyer, sir,” he replied, and they walked up the narrow stairs to the top deck.

“Have you been up here to look out since we arrived?” asked Mr. Meyer.

“No, sir, I... just woke up,” admitted Mr. Nilsen, “this is the first time I’ve seen the place.”

“Do you have any family still living here?” probed the Ambassador.

“I don’t know, sir,” admitted the young man, “I don’t think so. My mother told me that her parents had moved here from... Bergen? Goodness, you’d think I remember, but she really didn’t like to talk about that. Her parents died before she got married, though, and I don’t think my father had much family, either, but he died before I was born.”

“I recall,” Mr. Meyer reminded him, “so, you will have no one to visit here, I suppose. That will make it easier to focus on your work, I imagine. Once there is actual work, naturally. The Queen, of course, doesn't take visitors during her confinement, so we may have some state dinners, which still may be useful for meeting their ministers, and perhaps if you're lucky, some of the royal family, at least, those who stay long enough for a conversation, though I suppose I shouldn't judge, as I was lower ranked the last time I was here," he glanced at his secretary, "in the meantime, perhaps you can ask around town after people who might remember your mother and father. A smaller country like this, people are bound to know everyone else."

"I suppose so, Mr. Meyer," the young man replied, "I hadn't really thought about that, though I was thinking about taking some rides around the countryside. It does look lovely."

"You could certainly do both, you know," Mr. Meyer paused to think if there was anything else that would be worth discussing now, and remembered the mail package that had already been brought aboard. "But you will be happy to hear that a package of letters was delivered to our ship this morning, and I believe there are no fewer than three for you. You’re quite a popular young man.”

Mr. Nilsen blushed a bit, but had to admit that he had gotten quite a few letters since leaving Corona, though he didn’t think letters from his mother counted as making him popular, and he felt sorry for anyone whose brother wouldn’t keep in touch while away at sea.

“You’re free to read these at your leisure, if you like,” Mr. Meyer said as he handed the bundle of three letters to his secretary, “I don’t foresee having any business to attend to for at least several hours, particularly being the day it is.”

“Which day?” Mr. Nilsen began, “Oh! Yes, sir. And we aren’t to speak of it.”

“Yes, indeed. Though, of course, no one from Arendelle is around at the moment. I hope you don’t mind speaking of it, as it was fairly close to your father’s death.”

“It was a few weeks later when that happened,” the young man said, “though perhaps he had fallen ill due to the cold. Mother said his heart was a little weak, and he worked too hard.”

“He was a fishing boat captain, you said?”

“Yes,” he said, “and now my brother is a navy lieutenant for Corona. I suppose I was expected to go into the navy, as well... but I don’t seem to take well to the sea.”

“You’ve done well enough on this voyage, though thankfully we’ve had mostly very calm seas,” the ambassador said, though it was not entirely true. Still, the young man recovered quickly enough any time the wind and waves calmed down.

“Yes, indeed, and for that I’m extremely grateful,” he said, “I do hope my future father-in-law will forgive me for being prone to seasickness.”

“Ah, yes, Captain Von der Decken, a good man. He has taken me as a guest many times, though I haven’t met any of his daughters, but as I believe you have a letter from one of them, I shall leave you to read in private. Good day.”

“Thank you, sir,” said the young man.

He watched the ambassador walk toward the front of the ship for the best panoramic views of the town and the fjord. Houses were scattered up what seemed impossibly steep and high cliffs between trees and similarly precariously perched farm fields.

Front was Forward, which meant the back was Aft. Lars could keep those straight, but no matter how many times his brother had tried to explain, he could never keep Port and Starboard straight in his head. He had been very good at languages and rhetoric, and even a bit of mathematics, and had been deciding whether to apprentice to an accountant or a lawyer, when he had been asked to come train for diplomacy. He was hesitant, but his mother told him he shouldn’t refuse. Thankfully, they lived in the city of Corona itself, so he was never very far from his mother during his training, and could see his brother every time he was home from sea.

He looked through the letters, and walked to a protected corner of the top deck. There wasn’t much of a breeze this morning, but he didn’t want to take his chances. He opened his mother’s letter first. If there were any surprises, she would tell him the most gently. He admired her neat, regular handwriting. He did his best, but for a private secretary, had remarkably questionable handwriting. He had never been considered for a clerk, that much was certain. Margit Nilsen’s letter to her son was wonderfully uneventful, with repeated statements of her admiration for his accomplishments, multiple tales of visits with his fiancee and her sisters and their mother, and a mention that his brother’s ship might be visiting Arendelle while he was stationed there.

With this news, Lars decided to look at his brother’s letter next. Lt. Karl Nilsen’s writing was similar to their mother’s, very even, though his was more masculine looking than the mother’s. His latest voyage had been uneventful, as well, with the usual ports in the Baltic. He was happy to see that in a few months’ time, they would, indeed, be visiting Arendelle. There was the usual teasing about his younger brother’s inability to tolerate sea voyages, as well as being hopeless with directions. But after that, he hinted that on their voyage westward in the fall, his captain would like to bring a family guest along. Lars skimmed the rest of the letter, and feeling sure of no other news, he quickly opened his fiancee’s letter.

Corona, July 18th, 1864

My Dearest Lars,

You may have heard by now that my father’s ship will be visiting Arendelle this fall. What you may not have heard is that in a few weeks’ time, the ship will be stopping in Corona, and Father has told me that I will be allowed to travel with him. I will see you in only a few months’ time! With that news, I will be keeping this letter short, so that I may send it out in time, and perhaps be the first to share this wonderful news with you! We shall see what the future brings.

With much love,

Elizabeth von der Decken

Lars carefully folded the letter and gave it a kiss. Before he left, they had talked about when they might have a wedding, but there was no way to settle a date with his being assigned to a post so soon. Perhaps, he could hope, she might not insist on a large wedding with her mother and sisters... He couldn’t really hope for that, but he also didn’t want to make her wait for years to get married.

He carried his letters back down to his cabin, and carefully placed the letters from his mother and brother in the drawer of what passed for a writing desk in his cramped space. It would be packed up with his trunk and moved to his quarters in the castle later that day. Elizabeth’s letter he placed in the jetted pocket on the inside of his jacket.  No matter what the day brought, if he could find a quiet spot, he could be reminded of what might come.

[bruciewayne]

dear diary

Tony finds one of his diaries from 2015. (post-cacw)

read on ao3 (recommended for mobile)

Tony’s trying very hard not to think about St- Rogers at all, really, but especially now, when he’s meant to be clearing out his workshop. He could get someone to do it, has, for the most part, he is a billionaire after all, but it doesn’t feel right, his workshop is his sanctum sanctorum, the first place he went when he got back from Siberia, their bedroom too much. It’s the last place he goes through, a week before the official move upstate.

His therapist said that the move will do him good, that the new place might give him a better mindset. And that he won’t see him in every corner of his house anymore.

It still feels like betrayal, somehow, even though Tony knows that it wasn’t himself who was in the wrong, Rogers said so, in that letter. Rhodey suggested burning that bastard letter, and the flip-phone, but Tony still can’t bring himself to destroy it, despite how much he hates Rogers.

It feels like betrayal because it’s Rogers’ first home in the 21st century, it’s where he fell in love with him, it’s where he found more of his family. But he can’t hold on to memories forever, according to his therapist.

So he tries.

//

When he gets to the workshop, he finds most things already tidy, courtesy of FRIDAY (god, he misses JARVIS) through Dum-E, U, and Butterfingers, everything that isn’t password/lock-and-key protected is all packed and in the hangar, ready to be put on the quinjet.

All he has left, really, is the drawer, his servers, computers and the like.

He’s always been drawn to technology, so he tackles that first. It doesn’t take long, a lot less time than he wanted. He powers everything off, with a goodbye to FRIDAY. He doesn’t know if he wants to revive JARVIS for the compound, or keep FRIDAY, he’s lived his entire life with a JARVIS of some sorts, and in the year that he didn’t, everything fell to batshit. But he has to move on.

(But he misses JARVIS like a son and a father at the same time and he would go to the ends of the earth-- he would keep himself healthy, alive and safe for him.)

He banks the thought for another day and carries on cleaning out the drawers of his desks, finding mostly old drives and abandoned blueprints. All of that’s done faster than he wanted because now, that bastard drawer is the only thing left, mocking him.

The old, sharpie’d-on scrawl of ‘Steve’ has long since been scrubbed off - probably when he was drunk, or Dum-E - however, the carved-in ‘S.R.G’ is still there, albeit small, but there. When he opens it, slowly, like he’s expecting something to jump out, a snake, maybe, but to his relief, it’s no different to how it was months ago, with the very latest addition at the top. (Tony locked away the letter, after he managed to memorise it, on the advice of everyone around him, but he still carries the flip-phone with him. He made a promise and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t go through with it.)

Under that is drawings upon drawings, some on art paper, some on napkins, or the back of mission reports, all of them have something to do with Tony or the bots, all signed ‘S.G.R’. Tony’s almost ashamed to admit that burning them doesn’t even cross his mind.

It's not the last, or the only, thing he left him, but there’s something so fundamentally raw and human about them, qualities that Tony honest-to-god didn’t believe that he had back when they first met. Even the pictures, they make Tony look human, reachable, touchable, he doesn’t know how he did it (he does, he told him, but it feels all like a lie now anyway), but there’s more life to them than the actual, professional photoshoots he has to do sometimes. Hell, he even made the ‘bots seem more than decades old bolts and metal. (They are so much more than that, but only to Tony, and, seemingly, him.)

Under all of those is a black, leather-bound notebook. He takes it out and sits down, tracing his fingers over the embossed ‘Anthony E. Stark’ on the cover. It’s a diary. One that his therapist encouraged him to write in, properly, with a pen and everything, ever since he started the whole ‘therapy’ thing. Tony had been against it, vehemently, because of the Ol’ Stark Ideals™ but Charles convinced him to write in it at least a few times, when he felt like it, on important and mundane days alike.

This black one is his third, starting March 2015. He knows what most of the entries are about, dumb stuff that made him feel like he is reliving the middle-school experience he didn't have. There’s a big part of him that wants to burn it, or ‘accidentally’ let Dum-E have it, but before he knows it, he’s slipping off the elastic and flipping it open on a random page.

18th May, 2015 Steve’s a moron. I think I’m in love with him.

That’s all that’s written on that page, with a tiny drawing of Avengers’ tower stuck under it with tape. He quickly turns the page, only to be faced with another entry about Steve, and then one about the Avengers, and then more Steve and then something about Dum-E finally learning how to make good smoothies, and then more Steve, then Steve and Steve and Steve, all the way until last April, when his name isn’t written, in favour of ‘Rogers’, or, memorably, when he was drunk, ‘traitor’ and ‘liar’.

All it does is make him angry again, angry at what he lost, what Steve threw away, it brings back all the feelings he had for him, still does, however much he claims to not, but this time, tinged and overcast with bitterness. He wants to regret it so badly, he wishes he did, he wishes he could wish that he never met Steve, that Afghanistan never happened, or Steve was never found, or never picked for the super-soldier project, but he can’t. He knows, more than anything, that meeting Steve, knowing him, falling in love with him was one of the best, and worst, things to ever happen to him, and if anything happened in any different way then the world would be a very, very different place.

He’s lost in his own mind and memories, skimming over the pages of the diary, when something in his pocket vibrates, loud and obnoxious. The fucking flip phone.

Tony can barely get it out of his pocket, that’s how bad his hand is shaking, but he does and ‘Steve is calling’ flashes up on the screen.

Tony throws it across the room.

Dum-E catches it.

Tony waits until it’s stopped vibrating, and then another five minutes for good measure, before encouraging Dum-E to throw it back to him. Surprisingly, he throws it perfectly. “I’m gonna give you another upgrade, buddy,” Tony mumbles, smiling when Dum-E chirps happily and finally opens the phone.

You have one new message [play] [delete]

-

@iron-man-bingo

iron man bingo masterpost

[halinski]

Feb 15. The Day After

My... Post-valentine's day fic! I'm super late and I'm super sorry but honestly I didn't think I would be finishing this at all so... Success!!! It's not my best work but this is for a few wonderful people who prompted me, aka

@vibranivmheart

@princecharmingwinks

@c0tt0nstar

@my-son-is-dating-a-werewolf

@sherwhoharryhungerfan

Thank you so much for this, it got me writing and made me feel good about writing!

And also this is for my darling @lokiofasgcrd bc it's her birthday today in her time zone!!!! ❤️ (And I have nothing else for her yet, I feel awfulllll but pssst go wish her a happy birthday!)

It's still the 15th here soooo still the day after so this totally works. Enjoy!

It was a tattoo. That was what Derek had always told everyone. A tattoo to remember his family with - and what he'd done to them. Truth be told, while it still served that purpose - weighing on his shoulder blades like the end of the world - the rest was a lie. The triskele just so happened to be his family's emblem but also, it was his soulmate mark. Appearing in his 18th year of life like an itch, Laura had been the first to notice it, touching his back with trembling fingers and a soft sob. They'd both had the same thought - or at least Derek was convinced - that it was a confirmation of his damnation. He wasn't meant to have a soulmate. His family was his love and he'd killed them.

He'd convinced himself of it. Derek Hale had no soulmate. When he said that people wouldn't believe him at first - everyone had a soulmate - but when they saw his bare chest, arms and back (beside the curved black lines) the disbelieving looks would turn into ones of pity. Birthmarks weren't usually so bold and dark and defined. Oh, poor Derek Hale, fated to be all alone in this world. Yeah, he was. So what? Derek made sure to come off as rough on the edges as he felt so they would think he deserved it and left him alone.

Of course, there was one person who never seemed to get the message. A certain someone who always loved crawling back under Derek's skin no matter how many times he pushed him away. He practically never left.

Derek fully expected Stiles to be behind the door when he opened it, but he'd been so focused on his sugary vanilla scent that he hadn't even noticed Lydia's. Hers was the first face he saw when he opened the door. Then behind her, Stiles.

Stiles and his gorgeous honeydew eyes that pulled him in for eternity and the trails of stardust on his skin.

Stiles.

Stiles, whose gaze dropped down to Derek's bare torso and quickly was averted but not before those cheeks bloomed up in pink oh so deliciously.

Stiles.

Derek had to tear his eyes away from the male at his doorstep and back to the redheaded banshee who was less gentle on Derek, looking him up and down with a smirk. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. When she had asked when he would he back from his run, he hadn't expected her to come over right away.

"What are you doing here?" Derek pressed out, sounding more hostile than he had intended, even to his own ears. He saw Stiles flinch, and a bitter coating, like blood, settling on his tongue.

"Hot and sweaty. Just how we like our men, huh?" Lydia said, nudging Stiles with a chuckle and completely ignoring Derek as she slipped past him.

"I um... ," Stiles let out a cough and hesitated on following her, eyes flitting around, only meeting Derek's for a fraction of a second - almost as if he was scared. Derek could smell the anxiety wafting off him. The bitter taste weighed heavier.

Derek turned away.

"What do you want?" He asked, trying to focus on Lydia who was making herself at home in his kitchen, rooting the cupboards. But Stiles' heartbeat was the only thing that rang through his ears, every small jump in it alerting Derek to danger - even if the only dangerous thing in proximity was Derek. It drove him crazy sometimes. All the bouncing off the walls, the back and forth, the rise and fall of his emotions. Stiles was… a whirlwind. An endless source of energy, of life. Strong enough to reignite Derek's will to live. And that was saying something.

Anyway- Lydia.

“Oh, you know," the girl closed the cupboard and turned around again, her hair cascading over her shoulder. Not that she had actually done anything with the cupboards, or whatever was in them. Pacing forward dramatically, Lydia placed her palms on the granite counter of the island. And smiled. "I had an idea."

Stiles let out a heavy breath from behind Derek and Derek could only agree with his quiet murmur of, "oh boy."

"You know what day it is today, right?" Lydia asked.

“...Thursday."

“Lydia rolled her eyes. "Not the day of the week, idiot."

Derek frowned. Idiot was his word to use. Usually with Stiles, whose heart beat right now sped up. Derek refused to turn around to check on him.

"It's the 14th," Derek stated, crossing his arms.

“Exactly!" Lydia beamed successfully. "February 14th, aka, Cupid's day." Derek didn't need the reminder. The hearts and pink and red and chocolates had been all over the place for weeks. It's why Derek had been spending more time indoors.

“See, we're all busy today-”

"Lydia," came Stiles soft protest.

“But Stiles here was yapping my ear off about being lonely and all alone on this special day-"

"I never said that!" Stiles burst out somewhere in the background but Lydia carried on undeterred.

"So, of course, I'm calling the gang together to organize a little something. We're going to whip up something quick and sweet for the both of you," Lydia said matter-of-factly.

Derek raised an eyebrow. He was almost afraid to ask. "What does this have to do with me?"

“You deserve something special?, too. Plus, you're free today, so you can keep poor lonely Stiles' company."

“I have things to do," Derek protested, giving her a pointed look. "It's just another day. I don't believe in a commercialized holiday geared towards heteronormativity and capitalism."

“Yeah! What he said!" Stiles followed up. "Derek, I swear, I didn't-"

"See, this is why you two should spend the day together. You're perfect for each other," Lydia said. "You're going to have a lot to talk about." She folded her hands and smiled like she had already won.

Derek kept his face schooled and shook his head. "I don't know what you're up to and I don't care either," he told her. "I'm going to go shower."

Without sparing a glance at the bewildered Stiles, Derek turned and left the room, immediately heading into the bathroom. He went to the shower knob immediately and turned the water on. That didn't drown the voices from the kitchen out though.

“Lydia, what the fuck!"

"I'm just helping you out, what's the big deal?"

“The big deal? The big deal! You're putting both Derek and me in a really awkward position here. We both already know we're like the 7th and 8th wheel in the pack and that we're the only ones left. I don't need you pushing him into any uncomfortable situations. Who knows what Valentine's Day reminds him of..."

“Well, then, it's time to make new memories."

“Lyds, this is stupid. Me and him? That'll absolutely never happen."

“It absolutely could!"

“He doesn't like me like that. And if you can't see that maybe you don't deserve the fields medal in the near future because- because it's obvious. Derek... barely tolerates me."

And Derek doesn't. He can't like Stiles like that. He absolutely does not. Derek Hale isn't made for love, he reminds himself as he leans his forehead against the cold tile, wishing it could numb his brain.

*********

When Derek left the bathroom, Stiles was still there. Sitting on the kitchen counter on his own. He choked on the smoothie he was drinking when Derek walked by.

"I uh... H-hi," Stiles sputtered. Derek appreciated that Stiles averted his gaze from Derek's half-nude form. There was only a towel around his hips shielding him from complete humiliation. Not that Derek technically minded being naked, even in front of people. He just didn't appreciate the sexualization, the objectification.

Whatever Stiles thought he felt for Derek it was probably just that; hormones and physical attraction. It made Derek's facial expression hardened, pulling up the walls around him and challenging the situation.

Stiles' heartbeat clearly sped up as Derek walked over, grabbing a cup and filling it with tap water to drink. Stiles didn't turn to follow Derek's movements but the little droplets sliding from Derek's hair still struck his skin icily.

"Lydia... Made us these, I guess," Stiles said, passing his smoothies from one hand to the next, rolling it between his palms. Derek was ready to watch it slip and fall and shatter. Maybe he was ready to jump over and catch it. He didn't want to think about it. But he did look over to the second serving of the smoothie. Banana and strawberry. His favorite.

"She also, um, took my car keys, so... I'm kind of stuck... Here," Stiles added, clearing his voice. He finally looked up when Derek walked over to grab the second smoothie. But he also kept his gaze on Derek's face, as if calculating, trying to read the silent werewolf's thoughts.

"I didn't plan this," he continued.

It wasn't a lie.

"I mean, Valentine's Day is bullshit, like you said. Why should I feel any different than any other day?" Stiles looked away as he said this. looked down into the pink smoothie that had a strawberry cut out of a heart on top of it. it was... not totally a lie. Stiles was too good at words sometimes for Derek to be able to tell what it meant.

Obviously, the silence from Derek was awkward, because Stiles twitched and shifted on the counter, one leg rhythmically tapping against its side. But Derek didn't know what to say. Couldn't talk, tongue tied.

It was any other day.

“Did you know that Valentine's day-"

"Stiles, you can stay. I don't care," Derek told him as he turned to go to him room so he could get dressed. The words felt wrong in his mouth but it didn't hit Derek until he saw Stiles' shoulders slump just before he left his sight.

"Yeah... Okay," came the quiet reply from behind him. ****

Stiles was acting considerably more normal now that Derek had a shirt back on. Derek wished he could say the same about himself but he really couldn't tell anymore what his own normal was. His perception of himself was kind of skewed. It happened sometimes when your first girlfriend died in your arms, then you get abused by an older woman who kills almost your whole family as a teen, and then your uncle goes crazy and kills your sister so you have to kill your uncle, while taking care of a bunch of teenagers, some of who are freshly bitten. Sometimes Derek wasn't sure he knew left from right anymore.

But right now, Stiles was in his living room, sitting on the couch with Derek's laptop and telling by his soft chuckles listening to something funny and that was calming enough. Though- considering it was Stiles he could also be laughing at something that was not actually average person funny.

Unfortunately, this moment of normalcy, where Derek could revel in the soft content didn't last very long. Stiles looked up only a moment after Derek stopped in his tracks, crossing his arms and training his eyes on the door. He could hear a car pull up downstairs

“It’s the pizza,” Derek guessed uncomfortably, immediately reintroducing the tension into the room. Stiles quickly put up a hopeful grin.

“I mean, can you really say no to free pizza?” he asked, giving Derek a pointed look.

Derek sighed. There was no way he could argue about just how ridiculous this was without bringing up what he didn’t want to talk about, aka the pack’s painfully obvious attempts to try and get the two of them together. Shortly after Lydia had left, Erica and Boyd had appeared, bringing a bunch of chocolates and some rom-com with them, ordered pizza and then pretended a reservation they had been waiting for cleared up all of a sudden. Derek had been able to hear there was no one on the other end of that phone call. He wasn’t an idiot. The one thing he had missed was that one of them had stolen the keys to the camaro as well, so that Stiles actually was stuck here. With Derek. With free pizza and chocolates and a movie. It was turning out to be a date if they wanted it to be or not.

When Derek returned back upstairs with the giant pizza box, Stiles had put the laptop away and was standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

“You know, I can leave if you really want me to. I can walk home, it’s not that far. And the pizza, well, it’s not like I can’t order some for myself. You said you have things to do but now you’re just hanging out around here with me but we’re still both doing our own thing and I-” Stiles started but Derek wasn’t going to have him ranting his way out into the cool evening to walk all the way home. He walked past him to set the pizza down.

“I told you, I don’t mind,” Derek said.

“That doesn’t mean you actually want me here,” Stiles pointed out. “I’m totally invading your free time and private space-”

“You’re not walking home.” And before Stiles could open his mouth again, Derek shook his head. “I didn’t actually have anything to do today, I just…”

“You didn’t want anyone bothering you,” Stiles guessed, another wave of unhappiness, discomfort or something, running through him, strong enough for Derek to feel.

“It’s not-” Derek started to argue, but what was he going to say? Was he going to blurt out all his feelings about how he couldn’t have Stiles even if he wanted to? How he might actually yearn for some closeness and warmth and comfort from another person? How he wondered if Stiles had a mark - he had to have it. Everyone had a soulmark and Stiles was 19 by this point. Just, Derek hadn’t seen anything. No one had said anything. Stiles usually wore long sleeves. There was still no way. Stiles had a soulmark and a soulmate that wasn’t Derek. Because Derek didn’t have a soulmate.

And even without that, would it even make sense? He was the Alpha, Stiles was the emissary… that’s just not what their relationship was supposed to be. It was strictly business- well, pack too but. His mother didn’t date Deaton, did she? That would just be weird.

No soulmates.

“It’s not you,” Derek then said, trying to convince himself of it. Stiles wasn’t his soulmate.

“Derek, you really don’t have to-”

“I just… it’s the whole soulmates crap, you know?” he said, without looking over at Stiles, running off to the kitchen to get them plates, napkins and drinks. He continued when he came back, settling down on the couch. “It’s all everyone talks about ever, and then today… literally nothing else in the universe exists. It just gets kinda old when you don’t have a soulmate yourself.”

Derek busied himself with opening the pizza, stopping short when he was faced with a semi-heart shaped blob of grease. He glanced over at the other male, only to find Stiles staring off into the distance with a frown.

“Yeah, no, I get that,” Stiles muttered, a hand rubbing over his chest. A chest, within which a heartbeat made a few extra skips. “I mean, soulmates? Can the universe decide for you who you’re supposed to be with? Unconditional love with random people. That doesn’t happen. Only with family is that a thing. Like my dad. I could kill someone and he’d probably love me.”

Derek refrained from pointing out that new families would start out with couples. He tore his gaze away from Stiles’ red shirt.

“That’s because you wouldn’t kill without reason,” Derek said simply, handing over a plate with a piece of the pizza. Stiles stared at him curiously and Derek didn’t try to figure out what for.

“It’s meat lover’s,” he pointed out about the heart shaped atrocity before him. And Stiles snorted at the irony- because yeah, it was just fucking hilarious-  but he didn’t address what was supposed to be going on here.

The bitter taste in Derek’s mouth returned.

****

It happened when Stiles was changing for bed, Derek having given him some spare clothes to sleep in. No need to organize to get back home at this point, Derek had said. And he could just sleep on the couch, Stiles had added with a shrug. It had gotten late anyway. They had ended up watching the movie as they sat on opposite sides of the couch awkwardly, a ghostly cool vacancy occupying the third seat between them.

But now, Derek was the one with the wild beating heart, rooted to the ground like he had been struck by lightning, his breath catching in his throat.

By the time Stiles had lowered the shirt down over his head and could see Derek again, Derek was gone.

In his room, Derek stood unsure at the side of his bed, trying to stop his thoughts from racing.

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. He’d seen wrong, he was dreaming. He… The press of claws into his palm pricked and stung and Derek exhaled.

He knew what he had seen, the soft brown moles, splattered over Stiles’ breastbone, grouped together closely to form a swirling mark. A clear mark. Three swirls. A triskele to match the charred coal one on Derek’s back.

**********

Naturally, Derek couldn’t sleep. Here Valentine’s Day had come and passed, he’d found out Stiles had a mark that looked just like his own and yet he had done nothing. He lay in bed, limbs heavy with panic and fear, but mind racing with the need to act.

Because Stiles.

Maybe Stiles could actually be his. And just that possibility made it feel impossible to be here without him. It wasn’t right. It was…

He had to do something.

Stiles himself had been tossing and turning on the couch. It wasn’t a comfortable couch, Derek had told him that right away.

Derek stood.

“Stiles,” he said, popping up at the doorway. “Take the bed.”

Stiles turned to him. “I’m not going to steal your bed from you.”

“We can both fit.”

“But- it’s your bed… and my scent-”

“You’re keeping me up.” Derek was glad that Stiles’ didn’t share the same powers of playing lie detector.

“Oh.”

After a minute or so, Stiles rose, and lifted the blanket with him at first, than stopped- before deciding to take it with him after all. He sheepishly walked past Derek into the bedroom. He halted before getting on the bed.

“Are you-”

“Get in the bed, Stiles.”

“You know I never thought I would be hearing that from you, concerning your bed,” Stiles said as he obeyed, shuffling under the covers.

Derek couldn’t tell what he was actually smelling and what was just wishful thinking.

“Shut up, Stiles. Or there won’t be any cuddling.”

Stiles coughed. There was definitely a flourish of emotion drifting over from Stiles as Derek settled between the sheets again. A scent that was exciting and comforting at the same time. Like an adventure leading home. Derek fought himself not to lie on his side and face Stiles. He turned the other way and closed his eyes. It was comforting to find that he was unbothered by the fact that Stiles could stab him in the back while Derek was unprotected, but he trusted him not to.

“Asshole,” Stiles said softly. His voice was fond.

Derek smiled.

*******

He felt the pull first, before he woke. Then the warmth, vibrating through him, from the middle of his back, along his shoulders, around his waist. And… Stiles. It was his scent, his body pressed against his, a grounding arm holding him close.

Derek let his eyes drift open into the early morning haze. He could feel Stiles' soft skin beneath his fingertips and he looked down at the arm that kept him safe. It had been half an eternity since he'd felt so whole, so unbroken.

It took him a while to understand the warm, fulfilling feeling but the revelation soon sank into his bones with a guest of happiness. He was anchored. Through Stiles' heartbeat, through his triskele-adorned chest, through to Derek's marked back and enstrengthened spine, all the way through to his heart.

And Derek knew this was where he meant to be, safe and protected by Stiles, his trusted and loyal emissary, his mate.

****

Derek was still in the kitchen when Stiles started to stir. His heartbeat tripped over itself as he tried to hurry to but the cinnamon toast together, nicely presented on Derek's finest plate (though in an amateur way).

"Come on, come on," he urged the coffee machine, as if he would succumb to his pleading, while he shifted on his feet and glanced toward the bedroom. Fresh cinnamon toast, two mugs of coffee, and the chocolates that Derek grabbed from the bag Erica had brought soon adorned a tray Derek had surprisingly found in his kitchen. And he reminded himself to walk slowly and calmly as to not spill anything. Despite what Stiles believed werewolves were not exempt from clumsiness. Derek had broken glasses and a vase or two, plus a window once, in his time.

To say he was nervous about confronting Stiles after their impromptu unconscious nightly cuddle session was an understatement. Probably because what he was getting at was that they might be mates- were mates.

Oh boy, this was going to be a ride. But life was always a rollercoaster of surprises with Stiles. Good thing Derek liked rollercoasters.

He took a breath and entered the room, drawing Stiles' attention from the phone he was checking on the bedside table. Stiles sat up in surprise.

"Is that… you made me… breakfast in bed?" He asked, mouth hanging open.

Derek shrugged as best as he could and smiled sheepishly. Stiles' mouth fell open wider.

"Happy Valentine's day?" He tried, miming the writing on the heart-shaped box of chocolates, setting down the try on Stiles' lap and anxiously clasping his hands together behind his back.

"It's not Valentine's day," Stiles pointed out, gaping at the display in front of him before turning his stare at Derek again.

Derek could feel not only his ears but also his cheeks starting to burn.

"Well, I fucked up that opportunity yesterday so I'm hoping to make up for it today… Happy day after Valentine's day?"

"Wha… why?" Derek could see Stiles' Adam's apple work, could see the hope in his eyes, sense his fear. He sat down on the bed at Stiles' side.

"Because I've been an idiot," Derek sighed. He grabbed the hem of his shirt to pull it off, showing Stiles the black spiraled design he knew so well. "It's not a tattoo."

Derek was too afraid to look at Stiles but could hear the soft exhale that came from the other male when he understood. A second later, there was a soft touch, triggering an exploding warmth from the center of Derek's back, a tingling shudder running through him.

"It's your soulmark," Stiles whispered and Derek looked up to meet his eyes in confirmation, feeling the connection spreading as Stiles' palm settled against his skin.

"I have… it's," he started, then pulled away as he struggled to dispose of his own shirt.

"I know," Derek said softly, gaze falling onto the soft dotted triskele on Stiles' chest. He followed the rising blush up to Stiles' face. "I saw it last night."

Stiles' lips quirked up.

"That's why the whole bed and breakfast in bed thing," he said cheekily. "You're wooing me."

Derek really should have expected for Stiles to find amusement in this. No matter that they were mates and Derek just wanted to treat him nice.

"It's working," he countered with his own smirk. "You took your shirt off for me." Stiles huffed and crossed his arms as if to shield himself from Derek's gaze.

"You took your shirt off first."

"Yeah, but you've never taken your shirt off in front of anyone else." Derek could only hope Stiles could hear the appreciation in his voice, because he knew his emissary despite all his cuteness - and tremendous power - was horribly self-conscious. No matter the mask he put up.

The food and coffee hadn't been touched yet, both of their interests elsewhere, so Derek moved the tray to the side and scooted closer. Stiles watched him, shifting forward  as he did so, hands falling into  his lap. Derek reached over to take one of them lightly, cradling it in both of his, and it was almost like he could feel Stiles' happiness flutter through to him.

Stiles' scent spiked with nervousness as Derek's gaze fell to the soft curve of his lips.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Derek declared, "but only if you want me to." Stiles was nodding before Derek had even finished his sentence. "Yes. Yes, I want you to."

It wasn't fireworks and lightning when their lips met but all pieces fell into place and life's puzzle was solved and solidified. Derek could have stayed there forever, gazing into Stiles' eyes, feeling his soft breath against his lips, that still tingled. Talk about post-kiss bliss.

But of course, the pack always had to find a way to get involved. A knock rang out a few seconds before the loft door rolled open with a squeak and Isaac's voice rang out.

"Hello? We uh- we haven't heard from either of you so the pack made me check in and see if… if, uh.."

"We're busy, Isaac," Derek said with an unhappy grunt.

"Don't kill me, I drew the short straw! And you know how scary Erica can be!"

"Isaac," Stiles interjected loudly. "I'm about to lay down that wood. And I don't care if you're here to hear it or not so…"

Derek covered his face and groaned, while Isaac squawked and tripped out the door again. Stiles just laughed. Derek waited till Isaac's quiet cursing was out of ear shot before he looked up again.

"I'll have you know that you're not getting in my pants on the first date," he told Stiles, who continued chuckling.

"Bummer," he replied offhandedly, but his eyes spoke only of happiness. "How about another kiss."

"Mh, that's still pretty demanding." Derek pulled a face and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I don't know how wooed I am just yet, you know," Stiles warned Derek.

"Give me a day and then let's talk."

Stiles hummed appreciatively. "One day. Then there'll be evaluations. You've got one chance, Sourwolf. Pass or Fail. This is the test."

"You're so ridiculous," Derek complained, while a smile tugged at his lips.

"Hm. I'm not sure I like the sound of that. That'll be ten minus points on the record. You don't woo people by insulting them. Now that's just science."

"Shut up so I can woo you."

"Minus 20 points! This is not a good development. Not at all. You know you were doing good with offering the bed and then presenting br-"

Derek saw no other choice but to occupy Stiles' mouth with another kiss, this one longer, still gentle, but with more feeling. Stiles looked dazed when he pulled back.back.

"50 plus points," Stiles said quietly, cheeks blooming.

"Aaaand open up," Derek said, guiding a piece of cinnamon toast to Stiles' lips, who gladly took a bite of the bread.

He chewed and swallowed, beaming, like the sun to Derek's moon that he was.

"I should call you cheesewolf," Stiles teased. "You're so cheesy."

Derek let him take another bite before he retaliated. "Just looking for ways to shut you up," he said innocently.

Stiles nudged him with a playful glare. "Asshole," he muttered, mouth full.

"Idiot," Derek said fondly.

"You're a total romantic at heart. You're a secret cuddler. Cuddled with me all of last night even though you said you wouldn't."

Derek snorted. "That's just because you were being clingy." That was a total lie and he couldn't look Stiles in the eyes for it.

"Nah," Stiles said offhandedly, a thoughtful look forming on his face as he grabbed Derek's hand to intertwine their fingers. "It's because you belong in my arms."

And yeah, Derek had finally found home again.