#yeah. i think it's hot and tender also and. both of them participate

[mzannthropy]

The kiss in My Cousin Rachel, after Philip gives Rachel the necklace, is for me what the Daisy and Billy kiss in DJATS episode 6 is for everyone else.

[pjinthestreets]

ok ok i know kubo sucks but hear me out. POST-[whatever arc ended the series it also largely sucked but i did read it. the quincy king situation]

this is a shipping headcanon post be ye warned

ichigo and orihime are married. they live w, and are simultaneously dating, ishida and chad. rukia and renji are married. they both hook up w the karakura ot4 but lets be realistic theyre dead and stuff so we’re talking weekend visits (rukia more often tbh)

NON-DEBATABLE: rukia and orihime obviously have a Thing thing. theyre in lesbians. rukia and ichigo are 100% soulmates, i think even people who dont Ship it recognize they love each other.

renji/ichigo goes without saying too i feel, the dick-measuring bro-yness does not stop from getting higher. im talking hooting and shoving each other up to and during buttsecks. when rukia is involved there’s a higher chance of serious vibes and tender momence but she does also laugh and goad them while they’re wrestling naked so you never know. shes been known to instigate mood-breaking silliness when shes nervous also

ishida/ichigo... same as w rengy honestly, the sexy rivalry is there. quite a bit closer n more tender w these two though the path 2 emotional honesty is paved with mutual avoidance lmao. the way they trust each other without understanding each other means a lot to me shut up.

i think ishida n orihime start dating each other before either of them confesses to ichigo lol, they bond over being into him and form a pact to get ichigo to notice At Least one of them. ichigo meanwhile doesnt even notice theyre dating much less trying to seduce him. ishidas making her cute dresses n shit hyping her up and martyrfully eating his heart out with gay yearning lmfao while orihime is like contriving situations for ichigo to hang out w them and be nice to ishida (which never work). i feel like ichigo kinda gets railroaded into going on a date w orihime which is like cool but confusing bc he... feels the same abt her as he honestly does abt ishida n chad so like?? maybe he doesnt Like Like her Like That? which, uh oh? and it takes orihime kinda spilling the beans abt the whole situation for him to be like oh. hell yeah then. can chad come too

chad and ichigo.... these guys were each other’s first love and you cannot change my mind lol. chad ichigo original otp chad ichigo for lyfe etc. while tatsuki was teaching orihime how to kiss these two were already emotionally bonded for life. you know ichigo saw him in a tank top for the first time and discovered his own dick the same night.

i think ishida has a big gay crush on chad thats not rly reciprocated, chad is  bemused by him although overall thinks hes pretty alright. that post thats like >i fell in front of a 6′2″ guy >he helps me off the ground >”silly little boy you should be more careful” >instant throbbing boner  yeah thats ishida

i do think renji and orihime have Done Stuff in the context of rukia and ichigo foursome, but theres not like chemistry there imo they just end up Horny and sitting next to each other like so do we kiss now too or? ishida similarly doesnt have Vibes with rukia but finds renji annoyingly hot for how otherwise insufferable he is. especially funny when his whole thing is like ‘im an elegant and strategic problem-solver (not true) unlike you who is a monkey-brained idiot (more true)’ and they both end up in the same stupid situations together. chad meanwhile doesnt even participate in the rukia/renji group secks events, hes like ‘yeah im gonna go to the gym or something for a few hrs text me when i can come home’ hahaha

[pedros-mustache-main]

crayons & caresses

summary: you know it’s wrong, that pining after your student’s father is wildly inappropriate, but gosh if john deacon isn’t the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

word count: 12k+

warnings: pining to the extreme!, slight angst, discussions of parental death, health scare + medical response, alcohol, language, innuendo, suggestive moments (not 18+ but be mindful)

a/n: mechanic/singledad!john is everything i didn’t know i needed in my life. also: WOW this took me a long ass time because i find john the hardest to write, but i love him so. much. so hopefully it’s worth the wait.

(photo: originally from @davidgayhan​ i think?? ugh look at him. i drool. yes i did set this during the brief short-perm-montreal moment. sue me)

september, 1981.

you love all of your students equally. each one is like a fingerprint on your heart: unique in their own way, made up of patterns and histories you will never be able to appreciate in full before they are whisked away to their next year. it is safe to say you adore the collection of twenty-four seven year olds who walk into your classroom each morning. their bright faces, some still chubby with baby fat, fill the lonely parts of your soul, and you leave your flat each morning with a sense of purpose and duty. you are their teacher, their guide through some of the most crucial parts of learning. it is an honor and a privilege to teach them—each and every one. but there is one student who sticks out among the rest. 

his name is beau deacon.

beau is remarkably quiet. he’s small for his age, both in height and in weight. at times, he appears frail, what with the way he sits by himself in the corner during reading hour, flipping through a picture book with glazed over eyes, never really concentrating on what’s before him. he walks slowly during recess, preferring to stay by himself and drag a stick along the blacktop than play a game of kickball with the other boys. he whispers when he speaks and avoids meeting the eyes of those who do try and pry a few words from him.

you try to engage him—really, you do—but nothing seems to stick. not the participation reward system you build just for him, but use for the entire class. not moving his desk closer to yours. not even coercing your best friend ami to bring in her therapy dogs one afternoon early in the year. despite your best efforts, beau remains decidedly uninterested and removed.

it bothers and worries you to the point of questioning your colleague on the matter. martha is sixty, but spry as ever. she’s been your confidant this last year. you’re new to teaching, green as ever, but she has welcomed you with open arms and a plethora of advice. you feel comfortable sidling up next to her in the car-line one friday afternoon. it’s hot outside, summer not yet allowing autumn to take root, so you hold a hand over your eyes to shade yourself from the sun.

“can i ask you something?” you say, keeping your eyes trained on the children who filter out of the school and into their parent’s waiting vehicles. 

“as long as it’s not about sex,” martha mutters. “haven’t had a good romp in so long i don’t even know if it still works the same way.”

you swallow a laugh as a trio of students pass you by. their mother waves over her shoulder, shouting her thanks, before shoving the children in the backseat of a tan mini-van. you watch the van pull away, another car rolling forward to take its place, before asking your question.

“beau deacon,” you start, hoping that, if you simply say his name, martha will fill in the gaps herself.

blessedly, martha twists and nods with a knowing smile. “i know that tyke well. had him last year.”

you release a huff of air in relief. “oh thank goodness. i’m almost beside myself. i don’t know what to do with him.” you frown as you attempt to speak as diplomatically about your student as possible. “he’s awful quiet. he doesn’t play with any of the children and barely looks at me when i speak to him. how’d you manage?”

to your dismay, the older woman just shrugs. “i didn’t really. his mum died all sudden like about halfway through the year, and he clammed up. no matter what i did, what tricks i tried to pull, he stayed completely unmovable.”

“oh.” your shoulders drop in defeat. “i didn’t know.” truthfully, your heart tugs for the child. to lose one’s mother at such a tender age? you can’t imagine the world of hurt he lives in. it’s no wonder he sticks to himself.

“you didn’t speak with his father?”

“no. was i have supposed to?”

“no, not necessarily. mr. deacon was helpful on a few occasions last year. we were sort of a united front, i’d say, when things were particularly bad in the beginning. perhaps give him a call. at least to let him know you’re in his corner.” she smiles and squeezes your bicep. “and you can always come to me, love. i may not have all the answers but i do have some.”

“thank you, martha. i think giving mr. deacon a call might be smart—” you turn at the tell-tale sound of feet dragging against the ground. in the few weeks since classes have started, you’ve grown to know the sound of beau deacon’s footsteps better than your own. he’s always on your mind, the sullen little boy with glasses, so it’s hard not to pounce on him with love when you turn around to see him in the school doorway. “oh! beau! we were just talking about you.” 

beau stops walking, and his grip tightens on the straps of his backpack. he doesn’t look up at you, doesn’t say anything. he simply stands there, as if he’s listening but doesn’t know how to respond, so you soldier forward.

“do you have any big plans for the weekend, beau?” you ask.

he shakes his head.

“none with your father?”

another shake of the head.

“well, perhaps you’ll do something fun and you can tell us about it on monday, yeah?”

to your surprise, he nods, which is more than he does most days. you can’t help the smile that claims your lips and the way your arm waves a little too hard to his retreating form. he walks to a faded old corvette and opens the passenger door with ease. you can hear a muffled voice—his father’s no doubt—and see the man stretch his arm out to take beau’s backpack. 

but then the car door is shut, and the chevy pulls out of the parking lot with too much speed to be safe when a child is in the front.

you glance at martha. she rolls her eyes and mouths men. you can’t help but agree.

a week passes before you finally find the time to phone beau’s father. you find his name—john richard deacon—and a telephone number in beau’s emergency contact form, shoved amongst a stack of other hastily filled-out parent paperwork. there’s no secondary number listed—not even a distant relative or family friend—so if the call doesn’t work, you aren’t sure what your next move will be. even so, after all the children have left and the other teachers are beginning to close their classrooms for the day, you slouch at your desk and punch the numbers into the phone. it rings three times before someone picks up.

“taylor auto-repair. this is rog.”

the voice on the other end is high and scratchy. you’re taken aback, both by the man on the phone and the blaring rock n roll music in the background. you aren’t an expert, but it sounds like zeppelin. not what you’d expected.

“hello?”

you shake yourself free of surprise, and the wheels beneath your chair scrape against the linoleum floor as you sit forward. “oh, sorry. i thought i was calling the deacon residence?”

“deacon? like john deacon?”

“yes, i’m beau’s schoolteacher. i thought—well, this was the number on the contact form.”

there’s a sigh, and the phone brushes against something rough before rog says anything more. “hold on.” when he speaks next, his voice is distant yet poorly muffled. “deaky! there’s some bird on the phone for you! what have i told ya about putting the shop’s number down instead of the house’s? fuckin’ hell, mate.”

you frown, pressing your fingers to your lips as you wait for... deaky... to take the phone from his co-worker. when a new voice does appear on the line, you again find yourself surprised.

“hello? this is john deacon.” john’s voice is almost lilting, like a song. it’s soft, comforting—though how you determine this from four simple words is beyond your understanding.

“mr. deacon, hi! my name is [y/n] [y/l/n]. i’m beau’s teacher. i thought we might have an over-due chat, if you have the time?”

“oh, hello.” there’s a pause on the other end, as if he’s considering whether or not he’ll entertain your out-of-the-blue phone call. “has beau done something wrong?”

you laugh despite the worried edge to his tone. “no, absolutely not! beau is a delight. he’s practically a model student. however, i do have a few concerns... do you have a moment?”

“yes, i can have. just give me a second.” the line goes muffled again, the only sound a fading rolling stone’s song before all goes quiet. you hear a door shut and the squeak of a chair before john speaks again. “i suppose this is about beau’s shyness?”

you choose your next words carefully, uncertain if john simply cannot accept his son’s retreat into himself or if he does not see it. you’d rather not jump to conclusions and alienate him on your first phone call, but you must admit your unease at hearing the word shyness. beau is far more than shy. despite the frown puckering your brow, you hold your concerns close to your chest for the moment.

“shyness is a word one could use, yes.”

“he’s been that way since his mum died last year.”

rolling your lower lip between your teeth, you nod. “i heard. i’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

john makes a noise somewhere between a huff and a grunt and does not acknowledge your paltry offer of condolence. “if you’re calling to ask how you can fix ‘im, i don’t have any answers for you.”

“i don’t want to fix him, mr. deacon,” you say. “i simply want to help.”

“i’m sure you’ve spoken with mrs. cooper then.” he sighs, and the sound seems to rattle the receiver pressed against your ear. “look, i appreciate what you both are trying to do for beau. but he’s young, and the pain of losing his mum— i just don’t want him to rush into moving on.”

“oh, mr. deacon, that’s not my intention at all!” you wince at the high-pitch of your voice and clear your throat. good lord, this was not going as you’d planned. “i just want him to feel comfortable in the classroom, that’s all.”

“that’s kind of you, but i think it might be easier if you just let beau work it out for himself.”

you fall silent and glance down at the hem of your blouse. there’s a blue thread dangling from the article of clothing, and you pull on it, watching the thread unravel until it falls free from the shirt itself. 

in all honesty, you’re puzzled by john’s hesitance to so much as entertain your concern. anyone—student, teacher, classroom parent—who comes across beau knows he’s more than shy. it’s written in his face, in the way he holds himself, in the way he shuffles aimlessly to and fro. god, he breaks your heart. you want to wrap him in a blanket and protect him from the cruel world.

but you’re not his mother. you’re merely his teacher, and you must respect john’s wishes despite how wrong you think they are. perhaps, in time, he will come around, see the need for a little concerted effort in helping beau work through his obvious grief-stricken state.

“is there anything more i can do for you, ms. [y/l/n]?”

clearing your throat again, you sit straighter in your chair and fiddle with a pen on your desk. you click the depressor up and down, up and down. “no, there’s not. i’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

“you didn’t,” john says—and his voice has that indescribable soft quality you noted the moment he first spoke. “really, it does mean something to me that you even thought to call.”

“i care for my students a great deal.” you aren’t sure what brings the words to your lips, but the second they fall past your tongue, a flush crawls up the back of your neck. you’re sure you sound like a petulant child, whining at the mere inconvenience of a rejected idea.

“i can tell.” his tone is anything but salty. in fact, the truth dripping from each word leaves you decidedly flustered. you click the pen faster, your leg bouncing beneath the desk.

“yes—well—i’ll leave you to it.” though you add, “if ever there’s something i can do for beau, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“i’ll be sure to.”

after a rushed goodbye, you drop the phone to its base. the hard-plastic clatters, the coiled wire dropping in a pile on the desk. you press your fingers to your eyelids and groan. both deacon boys, it seems, have the power to infuriate and melt you at the precisely the same moment.

this, you think, does not bode well for the rest of the year.

if you’re being honest, you have to admit that you think of john deacon often as the school year falls into a comfortable rhythm. no matter how hard you try to forget the phone call, forget the way his voice lulled you into a strange sense of serenity, he’s like a specter in the back of your mind: always there and definitely uninvited.

still...

when the children work silently at their desks, you sit behind yours and struggle to keep your mind from wandering to either of the deacon boys. when you greet beau as he walks through the door each morning, you resist the urge to drop a question about his father’s well-being. when the faded red corvette pulls to the curb each afternoon, you bite your tongue and fist your hands at your sides to keep from introducing yourself properly through the open window. 

it’s embarrassing, really, how much the phone call with john deacon has affected you. it’s embarrassing how... interested you are in his life. you’re a schoolgirl with a crush—a crush on a man you’ve never even seen! if you were to admit your undue fascination with the deacon household to your best friend ami she would laugh in your face and remind you how desperately you need to get out more. you keep your wonderings and your daydreams to yourself to save her the trouble of telling you what you already know.

come mid-november, when the students are well-adjusted to their daily routine and you’ve learned how to juggle so many personalities at once, you finally pause to take a breath. the breath comes at the end of a school-day. it’s drizzling outside—not raining, but not dry either. the sky is a wash of gray and a deep purple. there’s a storm coming, a bad one too from the looks of it. humming to yourself and contemplating whether or not you should stop by the grocery on your way home, you tug on your jacket and step outside the school into the chilled autumn air. 

you’re about to cross the parking lot to your car when you hear a harsh sniffle come from your left. you pause, keys in hand, and twist to see a huddled form on the curb. it’s clearly a student and a young one at that. knees drawn to their chest, backpack large over their back, fingers interlaced on their knees, they are the picture of a frightened schoolchild. the hood of their blue raincoat obscures any defining features, so you hustle to their side and kneel down, but not before glancing at your watch.

nearly four. someone’s been forgotten.

“hey?” you tilt your head to try and catch a glimpse of the face beneath the shade of the jacket hood. “did mum not come through the car line?”

you barely stifle your gasp when the slick raincoat crinkles as the student turns to meet your gaze. 

it’s beau deacon.

his eyes are puffy, tears still clinging to his blotchy cheeks. beneath the wide frames of his glasses, fear swims across his gaze. he draws in his lower lip and rubs his hand under his nose. his eyes flicker to the ground, his toes tilting inward.

you press a hand to his shoulder. he feels so small beneath your palm, like a fragile piece of clay, molded by tragedy and loss in such a short span of time. “where’s your father, beau?”

he shrugs. “dunno.”

“i guess he’s running late.” you look at your watch. very late. “should we give him a call?”

beau nods, and you stretch to your full height, offering your hand to help him from the curb. beau does not take it as he stands. he pushes his glasses up his nose and follows you inside the school office where he hesitates in the doorway as you borrow the receptionist’s phone to call the auto-shop.

no one answers.

lowering the phone to its base, you look over your shoulder. through the venetian blinds you can see the sky darkening as you hem-and-haw. in the distance there’s a flash of lightening, and fat raindrops dot the tan sidewalk.

you could leave beau with the receptionist. it’s not uncommon for parents to run late or completely forget about their child. normally, betty calls the child’s guardian and gives the waiting student a granola bar and coloring page or picture book to flip through as they wait for the mortified adult to speed to school. there’s nothing obligating you to stay. 

just as there’s nothing obligating you to offer to drive beau home.

you look at betty and calculate the words of your offer. “would it be wrong of me to drive beau home? he lives on my way ‘s all.” boldfaced lie—at least, you think—but what betty doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

betty doesn’t stop clacking on her electronic typewriter. “i don’t think so.” she peers over her glasses at the clock hanging over the door, still typing. “i’ve got a dentist appointment in half an hour, so i don’t have time to wait around today. you’d be doing me a favor, love.”

“alright, it’s settled then.” you slip the thin strap of your purse over your shoulder and turn to beau with a toothy grin. “i’ll drive you home. maybe your father just isn’t feeling well today and overslept?”

beau frowns, and inwardly, you cringe, your smile faltering. beau’s mother died of an illness, so it likely disconcerts him to think of his father in a similar state. in a piss poor attempt at an apology, you grab a piece of chocolate from the bowl near betty’s desk and slip it in beau’s hand as you make your way to the parking lot. the faintest flicker of a grin crosses his face as he methodically unwraps the candy. you take that as a sign of forgiveness.

once beau is snug in the backseat of your station wagon, you pull into traffic with a bubble of giddiness in your stomach. what you’re doing is ridiculous. though you feel horrid beau was left behind, there’s a sick park of you that is glad for it. it’s unlikely you’ll ever meet john deacon unless fate throws you together. he did not attend back to school night, and as a single father, you doubt he has time for any of the other parent-student events on schedule for the rest of the year. in all honesty, you’re taking this opportunity to put a face to the man behind the phone call that’s plagued you with daydreams since it occurred.

if you can just see his face, just learn what he looks like, perhaps the fascination with fade. unless, of course, he turns out to be as attractive as your mind has made him out to be and then you’ll be in even hotter water than you are now.

adjusting yourself in your seat, you glance in the rearview mirror. beau has his head pressed against the foggy glass of the window, his eyes scanning back and forth as he takes in the surrounding scenery. rain droplets create dark shadows over his face, and you wonder if that’s what he feels like on the inside: foggy and rainy and shadowy. you shake the thought free; you read too many melodramatic novels.

“so, beau, what’s your address?” you ask, your tone obnoxiously chipper. he tells you, and you shrug as you tighten your grip on the steering wheel. “gotta give me more than that, hun. do you remember how to get home? do you think you could tell me?”

beau nods and scoots away from the window, leaning nearer the space between the driver and passenger seats. there a gleam in his eye. you catch sight of it as you turn right at his instruction and see him hovering near your shoulder. it seems that with each turn you make his voice inches a decibel louder until you can hear every word with a clarity previously unknown. he’s confident when he’s instructing you, when he knows what he’s supposed to do.

he’s confident when he’s helping.

you tuck the bit of knowledge away for later as you pull into the cracked driveway of a red-brick bungalow. the house is small and unadorned, the homes on opposite sides just as plain and simple. a single spruce tree, like something out of a holiday catalog, is the only foliage in the yard. gauzy curtains are drawn to block the sunlight coming through the two bay windows framing the white front door.

you turn the car off as beau slides across the bench to open the car door. grabbing your handbag, you all but tumble after him, hastening up the sidewalk.

“wait a minute! beau!” you punctuate your call with a breathy laugh and smooth the sides of your hair back as you approach the front door. the bubble of giddiness from moments before has turned to a bubble of nerves, and once again, you realize this moment is entirely ridiculous. still, you adjust your blouse and straighten the crooked edge of your collar.

beau’s left the front door open, his shoes and backpack already tossed on the living room floor. you hesitate at the threshold. you haven’t been properly invited in, but the open door might just be beau’s way of telling you it’s alright to invade his home. at least, that’s the message you decide to take. 

crossing the threshold, you hold tight to the strap of your purse and glance around the cramped front living area. beau’s nowhere to be seen, and the home is silent as the grave. you bite the tip of your tongue when your gaze falls over a photograph of a woman holding a baby. it’s beau and his mother; has to be.

maybe... maybe you’ve overstepped your—

“beau, is that you?” the sound of heavy footfalls on stairs snaps your attention away from the photograph. before you can slip away and forget you ever had the silly notion of meeting your student’s father with the intent of something other than a professional hello, a man rounds the corner.

your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. it’s not the john deacon you’d imagined.

he’s shorter than you pictured, only several inches taller than yourself. his jaw is sharp, peppered with a five o’clock shadow, and a thick mustache almost covers his upper lip. a white wife-beater tucked into green trousers completes the ensemble, and his bare feet pad across the floor as he sticks his hand out in greeting.

“you must be the teacher!” he pumps your hand up and down, his grip crushing but his smile wide. his voice is friendly and welcoming, though you can’t be sure it was the voice you heard over the phone. so many days have passed since then, perhaps you just forgot, though it’s highly unlikely. 

“i’ve been trying to call deaky ever since i got here, but the damn fool just won’t pick up. i don’t even know where beau’s school is so i couldn’t come and get him myself. the ship we run here isn’t very tight.” he rolls his eyes with a grin. “thanks for bringing him home, darling.”

your head swims as you struggle to keep up with the man’s fast pace. so, he isn’t john deacon? and john deacon isn’t here? you open your mouth to ask the first of several questions but he beats you to it.

“hell, you look positively confused. shut the door, won’t you? the rain’s getting in, and molly was always worried about the the hardwood. i’ll put on the kettle.”

“oh, i don’t—”

he bumps your hip toward the door. “nonsense! deaky will want to thank you for driving beau home.” he’s around the corner before you can refuse, so you shut the front door against the steady rain and slip off your shoes, leaving them beside the two pairs already against the baseboard.

you’re quick to follow him to the kitchen. the walls are a muted yellow, the countertops clear but the sink full of unwashed dishes. the refrigerator in the corner is bare save for the back to school letter you gave to each student to bring home to their parents. that—and a photograph of four men in a basement. it appears to be a homegrown band of sorts, and the man behind the drumkit is shouting at the man who looks like an overgrown string bean. you’re not sure which one is john, so you turn away, feeling rather out of place when the man at the stovetop says:

“beau’s probably in his room. he always holes himself away as soon as he gets back. doesn’t come out until supper. that’s when deaky gets home.” a pair of mugs clatter against each other as he pulls them from a cupboard. “brian says it’s just a phase, that he’ll grow out of it once he processes molly’s death, but i’m not certain.” the man’s eyes flicker to you, and he laughs, loud and short. “oh dear, i’ve done it again! i forgot you’re not in the loop. i’m freddie,” he explains. “part-time nanny, full-time diva.”

you accept the mug of tea as freddie passes it to you, a smile lifting your tight mouth. “[y/n] [y/l/n]. so you’re beau’s... nanny?” 

freddie drops to the round kitchen table shoved in the space between the kitchen counter and the wall. you follow suit and stir a drop of sugar in your tea. “you could call it that. i just watch him in the afternoons, between school and deaky getting home.” he sighs. “since molly... well, things have been hard to juggle.”

“i thought mr. deacon picked beau up from school? unless that was you in the car i saw?”

“heavens no! i don’t drive!” freddie laughs again. “that was deaky you saw. he takes his break at the garage long enough to pick beau up and bring him here. i guess he and rog were overrun today. bet beau was terrified. poor dear...”

you glance over your shoulder, down the dim hallway leading to, you assume, beau’s bedroom. there’s a half-full laundry basket deposited outside another open door, perhaps the bathroom. a few mislaid toys litter the carpet. it’s reassuring, knowing that beau has a few good men in his life, willing and ready to raise him. still, there’s a pervading sense of loneliness throughout the bungalow. you saw it in the photos on the living room wall, but it’s here too: in the dead roses, brittle to the touch, in the table vase; in the index-card note tucked on a notch in the cupboard, the feminine handwriting unreadable from your spot at the table.

freddie’s voice is somber when its breaks through the thick air. “complications of pneumonia,” he says, following your gaze to a wedding photo on the hallway wall. “it came on quick but didn’t last long, thank heaven.”

unbidden, tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’ve never felt more like an intruder—and you know why.

your crush on john deacon is misplaced. you see that now. realizing what you’ve done in coming here—twist a child’s terrified moment of abandonment for your gain—makes you sick to your stomach. what kind of person are you? assuming a recently widowed father would be at all interested in his son’s pesky teacher? the thought brings a flush to your cheeks, and you rise from the table all too fast. the mugs of tea wobble when your knee connects with the underside of the table.

freddie frowns at you. “you okay, love?”

“i—” how to explain yourself without sounding a total fool or heartless woman? “i think i’ve overstayed my welcome” is all that comes to mind, and you aren’t surprised when freddie uses his foot to push your chair back out from under the table.

“sit down. john will be home soon. let him thank you then you can go.”

from where you stand, you look to your right. the front door practically screams for you to politely decline freddie’s insistence and high-tail it to your car, to get out while you still have the chance. but he’s making it too easy to stay for what you’ve come for: a peek at the illusive john deacon. you know you should go, that you should leave well enough alone, but despite your best intentions, you find yourself sitting down again and allowing freddie to bombard you with questions about teaching life.

half an hour later, when your sides hurt from laughing while freddie regales you with the dramatic story of beau’s birth, the door to the garage opens and closes with a loud click. you twist in your seat, arm draped over the back, and bite your lip hard to keep from drawing in a sharp breath.

by god, he’s a stone-cold looker. better than you could have imagined.

john deacon stands in front of the garage door, his head of tight curls wet from the rain. he’s tall but not towering, his shoulders made broad by the leather jacket across his back. he hasn’t noticed you or freddie as he’s too preoccupied with wiping the grease on his fingers across a piece of soiled cloth. he turns, not towards you, but towards the hallway when beau tumbles out of his room with a shout of joy. beau races down the hall, his arms extended, and jumps into his father’s waiting embrace. john mumbles something in his son’s ear, ruffling his hair, before dropping him back to the ground. the sullen little boy jumps around his father’s feet, chattering in great detail about his day at school, though he forgoes mentioning his father’s absence in the car-line. 

you exhale, a wash of new tears covering your eyes as you stare at beau. he can be happy. you’d thought it impossible.

you must have exhaled louder than you thought because john looks over at the sound. his brow tightens in a frown of confusion, his eyes flicking back and forth between yourself and freddie, but freddie is quick to explain. he stands from the table and takes your hand, pulling you to your feet.

“deaky, this is [y/n] [y/l/n], beau’s teacher. remember you spoke to her on the phone?”

your cheeks heat at the thought of him mentioning the phone call beyond the walls of the auto-shop. warmth spreads over your face even further when he gives you a tight-lipped smile and extends his hand. you slip your fingers over his palm, and he shakes your hand.

for a moment, your hands linger as john glances at beau, who is tucked behind his leg. he cringes, groaning. “please tell me you didn’t go out of your way to bring beau home today?”

you drop your hand from his and clasp your fingers before your waist. scrunching your nose, you tilt your head to the side. “well...”

“bloody hell,” john murmurs. he screws his eyes shut and runs a palm down his face. “i’m sorry,” he says. “you shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“it was no trouble, really. in fact, you live on my way home.” the comment isn’t a falsehood. you’d realized as beau pointed his way home that your flat lie only a minutes down the road. just as it had then, the realization sends a nervous clench to your stomach now. the thought of the deacons so close...

“you must think me a horrible father.” as he says this, john reaches around to smooth his hand across beau’s back. the gesture, done mindlessly, almost makes you laugh. how could anyone find him a horrible father?

“absolutely not, mr. deacon.”

the corner of his mouth twitches upward in something close to a smile. “john, please.”

you roll your lips together and blink rapidly to keep your eyes from going wide. john. “lots of people miss the car-line. it happens more often than you think.”

“well, let me give you something for your trouble.” he slides past you, the scent of cologne and car oil in his wake. his movements are stiff, hampered by beau who insists on clinging to his father’s leg, his ankles crossed over john’s foot. 

“i don’t want anything, john.” you almost trip over his name. it tastes good, strong and steady. god, you’ve got it bad. “it wasn’t a hassle.”

john ignores you as he slides open a kitchen drawer. unsatisfied with its contents, he reaches for another before meeting your eyes with a wry smile. “all we’ve got is take-out menus anyway.” he shuffles nearer, beau still heavy on his leg. “thank you, ms. [y/l/n], for bringing him home. i got sidetracked at the shop and—” he sighs. “anyway, just... thanks.”

“again, you’re welcome—and call me [y/n].”

there’s a moment where you’re simply staring at one another, the room around you lulled to a comfortable silence. john is handsome, of this there is no doubt. perhaps he’s not striking in a classical way but you’re sure someone would have killed to chisel a bust of his face during the sixteenth century. it’s regal and sure in all the right places, but soft where it counts: around the eyes. when he chuckles at something freddie says, his eyes fold around the edges, and your heart all but gives out.

“what do you say, [y/n]?”

“sorry?” hopeful no one caught you ogling, you bring your attention front and center, turning to freddie. his proposal dawns on you a second too late to be anything but obvious. “stay for dinner? no, i can’t do that.”

“why not?” freddie reaches out to pinch your forearm. “it’s our way of saying thanks, and neither of us will try to poison you with our cooking. we’ll just have brian bring something ‘round.”

you shake your head and scoot around freddie to lift the handbag hanging from a kitchen chair. “i’d like to, but i’ve stayed too long already. perhaps another time.”

prying beau from his leg, john trails behind freddie as you make your way to the front door. freddie wishes you well, reminding you to drop by any time, and john simply lifts his hand in a motionless wave. on the front stoop, hair tangled around your face by a sharp wind, you lean your torso across the threshold.

“mr. deacon—i mean, john,” you say quickly, willing your voice to sound stronger than you feel. “if you’d like, i can drive beau home in the afternoons. i live not five minutes from here, and it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

john hesitates. beau stands in the kitchen, his head poked around the corner. john looks over at his son then back at you. “that’s a kind offer, but i like coming to the school.”

your eyes flick to beau, to his round, soft face and intelligent eyes. yes, if you were his mother you’d enjoy coming to pick him up too.

with a nod, you retreat into the wind. “well, the offer still stands.”

as you slide into your car and pull out of the driveway, waving to beau who now stands in the doorway, you hope against hope that john will accept the offer one day—just so long as it means you get to see him again.

he calls during the middle of show-and-tell. you nearly forgo the call as abby sinclair insists on lifting her pet toad for all to see and you’re worried she’ll drop it, but you’re waiting for a message from the front desk—missing package again—so you pick up on the last ring.

“hello?”

“hi, ms. [y/l/n]. it’s john deacon. is this a bad time?”

“oh, mr. deacon!” you wince at the delight coloring your voice and tear your eyes away from abby, who has handed her toad off to max. “i was expecting a call from the front office.”

he snorts out a rushed laugh. “sorry to disappoint.”

you brush a lock of hair behind your ear. “no, not at all.” out of the corner of your eye you catch max squeezing abby’s toad between his palms, and you push the phone away from your ear. “oy! max, knock it off! abby, please put the toad back, dear?”

john is chuckling on the other end of the line when you return to the call. “sorry,” you say. “show-and-tell.”

“i know. beau was excited this morning.”

with a smile, you glance at the boy in question. “he did very well. everyone was impressed with what he brought.”

“brian made that for him as a birthday gift, so he can’t take any of the credit.”

“he didn’t! he explained who made the planets, but he did want to be clear about who painted the stars.” you hesitate, the sound of laughter over your shoulder reminding you not to get too entangled by the sound of john’s voice. “is there something i can do for you, mr. deacon?”

“right, yes. well, it’s a bit awkward... do you remember a few weeks ago when you drove beau home?”

you nod, the memory lifting from your heart with ease. how could you forget? you only replay the evening like a film every night before you fall asleep. “of course”

“do you remember offering to drive him home again?”

“yes.”

“i’m in a jam at the shop and can’t leave this afternoon. would you mind? taking him home, that is.”

you answer without hesitation. “i can do that. it’s not a problem.”

“you’re a life-saver. it’s just with freddie not driving... i guess what i mean to say is thanks. it helps me out a lot.”

“i’m happy to do it, john.”

“i promise i’ll make it worth your while this time. proper take-out and all.”

“you really don’t have to do that,” you say, hoping he does anyway.

“no, freddie will insist. i’ll let you get back to class for now. thanks, [y/n].”

“don’t mention it. good luck with your jam at the shop. i hope it’s cleared up soon.”

“me too. all the sooner to get back to beau—and you.”

he hangs up before you can respond, and you’re left with your jaw scraping the floor and your heart in your throat.

all the sooner to get back to you.

the words circle your head like a drug for the remainder of the day. you can barely focus as you teach, stumbling over your words and through math equations and spelling tests. 

surely he didn’t mean it like that. he probably just tacked you on at the end of the sentence in his haste to get back to work. he probably wasn’t thinking when he spoke.

but, by god, you were listening. 

you’ve never been so head-over-heels for a man in your life. each day when you wake up with john at the forefront of your mind, you wish for a morning where you can stay in bed and dream of him all day—his voice, his smile, his gentle way with beau. it all makes you crazy. ami calls your fascination puppy love and claims it will fade with time, but you wonder if it’s gone deeper. you’re interested in more than john deacon’s looks. you’re interested in what makes him tick and whether or not he’s in a band with the three other men who constantly appear in every conversation you share and whether or not he misses his wife and what his hair looks like when he wakes up in the morning. you what to know him and be known by him.

all the sooner to get back to you.

perhaps it’s wishful thinking—a dreamy idea on the part of a lovesick woman—but part of you wonders if he feels the same way about you.

driving beau home becomes part of an unspoken routine. after sharing dinner at the deacon household that second evening, john admits when walking you to your car how overwhelmed he can feel between his job at the auto-shop and his responsibilities with beau. with a tentative hand on his forearm, you promise you’ll help lighten the load. he thanks you by squeezing your fingers with his, and then he’s gone.

it begins by driving beau home every monday, wednesday, and friday. you enjoy your time with him. as soon as he settles in the back seat of your station wagon, he comes alive. the protective shell he wears in the classroom is replaced by the bright and earnest eyes of a seven year old boy, curious about the world and all it has to hold. he asks you questions and tells you stories, and you laugh as you watch the light dance in his eyes. he’s a sweet child, and you truly treasure the afternoons you spend with him.

one friday, you drop him off and find the cozy bungalow empty. beau has stopped retreating to his room once returning from school—at least, this is what freddie tells you—so you’re not completely surprised when beau invites you in for an afternoon snack. you are surprised by the empty house, however. freddie is nowhere to be seen and neither is john. what concerns you even further is when beau opens the refrigerator and slams it shut with a huff.

“nothin’,” he mutters, slumping to the table with a groan.

“what?”

“there’s nothing in the fridge.”

“what do you mean by that?” you cross the floor and open the fridge, hoping beau’s comment is nothing more than a hungry child displeased with the array of choice and nothing to his liking, but you find his statement to be true. the fridge is woefully stocked—naught but a half-filled carton of orange juice, three apples, and a sandwich wrapped in tinfoil. you glance over your shoulder. “is it always like this?”

“no.” beau circles about on his chair. “but it’s happened a few times since dad and uncle rog got more busy at the shop.”

“well, that won’t do. grab your shoes, beau, we’re going to the market.”

once returned from your grocery run, you teach beau how to make spaghetti. he stands beside you on a stool, pushed up on his toes as he watches you prepare the boiling water and pasta. as you wait for the pasta to soften, you set about crafting a homemade pasta sauce. it’s your mother’s recipe, and it’s easy to make. easy enough that you allow beau to carefully slice the tomatoes under your supervision and dice the onions and sprinkle the spices.

the kitchen smells like your childhood: fragrant yet simple, sweet and comforting. somewhere in the waiting for the sauce to simmer, beau turns on a radio and draws you to the center of the kitchen. he holds your hand tight and kicks his feet to the music. you laugh and mirror his movements. he grabs your other hand and steps on his stool, forcing you to bend in an awkward twirl around his finger. you struggle but complete the movement, though he attaches himself to your shoulders like a barnacle. you whirl around on your socked feet in attempt to toss him off, but he holds tight, his fingernails digging into the skin of your collarbone. he squeals in your ear, a mixture of laughter and gasping breath and shrieks.

“mama, mama, stop!” 

he says it without thinking, his head lolling against your shoulder as you stop short at the sound of his breathless voice. he giggles against your back then releases himself and slides to the floor. you stare at him, feel his words in the back of your throat like an uncomfortable burn, and then you hear the garage door shut.

you swallow hard and force your eyes from the yellow-and-white linoleum floor. beau hops from his stool, sauce-covered spoon in hand, and rushes to his father’s side.

“daddy, look, we made dinner! miss [y/l/n] and me!” he tugs on john’s shirtsleeve, but john’s just staring at you, his face unreadable. beau turns to one of the other three men crowding the hall behind john. “uncle roggie, taste it!” he forces the spoon in the face of a mulleted blond.

eager to break the thick tension, you motion to the spaghetti. “i—there wasn’t anyone home so...” your sentence trails off, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

so many eyes on you. you feel exposed against them all, caught in a domestic moment with a child that’s not your own in a home that’s not your own.

john looks over his shoulder, eyes flashing in anger. “fred?”

freddie winces. “about that, deak.” he rubs the back of his neck and glances at beau. “i can explain later.”

“you’d better,” john mutters.

“i should go,” you say at once, hastily grabbing your things from the table. your keys jingle in your hand with the force of your anxiety, and you stub your toe against the floor in your hurry to put your shoes back on.

john’s hand on your arm stops you. you look up, stooped as you try to slip the back of your sandal over your heel. he looks down at you, face still remarkably unreadable. “no, please stay,” he says. “you made supper.”

you shake your head and rise to your full height. “i’ve intruded enough already.”

you’re embarrassed, too. the gaggle of men heard beau’s slip up; they heard him mistake you for his mother—and certainly they saw the immediate flush of happiness rise over your cheeks at the sound.

mama. you’d always hoped, always wished, someone would call you that one day. you just didn’t think you’d hear it from a student with a deceased mother and a father you pined after first.

“[y/n], stay.” john’s voice is soft, breathy, and his eyes flit back and forth between yours with a startling amount of intensity. 

how can you say no?

once the dinner has been divided, you sit beside john on the couch in the living room. the kitchen table is too small to host the gathering, so the living room was deemed appropriate just this once, to beau’s great delight. he sits on the floor at the coffee table, a tall glass of milk beside his plate of pasta, his eyes bouncing over everyone in the room with unrestrained joy.

“beau, why don’t you introduce everyone for miss [y/l/n]? she doesn’t know all your uncles.” john nods to his son in encouragement, and beau is only happy to take the job.

standing, beau crosses first to the impressively tall and curly-haired man sat beside him on the floor. “this is uncle brian. he likes space and teaches all the big kids at uni.” 

he moves to freddie, who sits on a plush armchair. “this is uncle freddie, but you already know him.”

the last man leans against the foyer table, his ankles crossed and sunglasses still perched on his nose. beau pats his arm. “this is uncle roger and he works with daddy.” in a stage whisper, he adds, “he thinks he’s a lot cooler than he really is.”

roger guffaws and lightly pushes beau’s head to the side. “oy, you twerp, take that back!”

glancing about the room, you nod in greeting. “it’s nice to meet you all. i’ve heard quite a bit.”

brian smiles at you from the floor. his legs are bent awkwardly beneath the coffee table, and you’ve noticed the way he helps beau cut his side salad and keep sauce from dripping to the area rug. “all good things i hope?”

“oh yes, of course.”

“[y/n], dear, you really must tell brian what that student of yours did last week,” freddie pipes up. “it had me laughing well into the night. i’m sure some of his twenty-year olds are much the same.”

“i shouldn’t, fred.” you look at beau, who is watching you in interest. 

freddie nods in understanding and tugs on his earlobe. “little ears, yes. maybe another time.” he pushes brian’s shoulder with his foot. “really is a riot of a story.”

as supper progresses, conversation twists and turns down different avenues. you explain how you came to teach in the area and find you used to work with one of brian’s newer colleagues. freddie tells the group about his recent run-in with an angry bird watcher in the park. his gestures are so grandiose he whacks roger in the chest, who has come to sit on the arm of fred’s chair. there’s more laughter than there is silence, and you settle back in the couch. at one point, john drapes his arm over the back of the couch—not around your shoulders, but close enough to send your heart into overdrive. it’s all you can focus on—the proximity of his muscular arm behind your head—as brian explains to beau the difference between the big and little dippers. even as roger describes the ramshackle band they four participate in on the weekends, you barely register the words because you swear to the high heavens you feel john’s pointer finger purposefully brush against your shoulder.

beau begins to yawn sometime near the eight o’clock hour, and you jump from the couch when you realize you’ve stayed so late.

“good lord, i’ve got to go!” you shuffle about the room, gathering your belongings, as john rises behind you. “i didn’t know it was so late!”

his hands are in his pockets, and he studies you as you put your shoes on. “got a big date tomorrow?”

you frown. “no,” you say on a laugh. “i’ve actually got breakfast with my mum.”

he looks away for a moment, but you can’t help but note the edge of a smile.

he grabs his jacket from the coat-stand when you’re ready. “i’ll walk you out.”

at the door you wave to the others. “good night, all! it was nice to meet you.”

roger tips an imaginary hat. “i’m sure we’ll meet again, [y/n], if deaky has anything to say about it.”

freddie kicks the back of roger’s leg, and the injured man doubles over in a yelp of pain. “you fucker!” freddie mutters. “you know that—”

john ushers you out the door before you can see or hear any more.

the night air is chilly, and you warm your arms around yourself. you reach for your keys in the depths of your purse and slide them into the lock on the driver’s side of your car. it’s dark out. you can barely make out john’s features beneath the light of the moon, but when he shuffles to the side, an automatic flood light turns on above the garage. you blink against the sudden light and smile, chuckling beneath your breath as your vision adjusts. you’re not eager to leave quite yet, and he doesn’t seem eager to send you away, so you both stand, looking at one another in the darkness of the drive.

“your friends are nice,” you say.

he hums in agreement. “m’yes, they are. we just started as a screw-around band a few years back, but when molly got sick...” he pauses, clasps his hand on the back of his neck, and shrugs. “they’ve been my lifeline, y’know?”

“i can’t imagine what that was like, losing her. i’m glad you had them around.” you suck in a deep breath. “about earlier... i didn’t know beau was going to say that, and i’m sorry it happened. i realize that my... involvement might appear to be me wheedling my way into your family, but that’s not it, really! i mean, i like you and beau—as friends—but i’m not trying to...” you sigh, shaking your head. “i’m sorry it happened ‘s all. i don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

before you know what’s happening, john’s reaching out to cup your cheek. his smile is soft in the glow of the moon and the floodlight, and your heart stops in your chest. 

his thumb brushes over your cheekbone. “i haven’t seen beau that happy in a long time. you’ve brought a lot of joy back into the house, [y/n].”

you’re sure you’re sweating despite the chill of night. you shake your head, but his hand holds fast against your face. “no,” you whisper. your voice sounds heady, even to your own ears. “beau’s just a good kid.”

“yes, and you’re a good teacher.” 

is his face inching closer? you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe.

“a good teacher and a good person.”

if it weren’t for your firm hold on the car door handle, you think you might slip to the ground in a puddle of goo. 

his lips are on yours, then, and you fall into his arms as he holds you against himself. you have dreamt of this moment far too many times to count, but you never thought it would happen. really, you thought you would finish the year without ever knowing the taste of john’s deacons lips. 

but there he is, and there you are, and he tastes like the wine he drank during supper. he is more eager than you thought he would be, and soon he has your back pressed against the door of your car. you huff into his mouth and feel your eyes roll back into your head when he drags his lips across your jaw, inching closer to that spot behind your ear. your arms practically quiver around his shoulders, and you open your eyes long enough to catch a glimpse of a particularly bright star winking down at you.

he catches your lips again, and you feel hot and delicious all over.

“john,” you mumble against his mouth. “john.” 

loathe as you are to stop the moment, you do, pushing his shoulders until he pulls himself away. his hand still cradles your hip, and he looks flushed in the moonlight. you’re sure you look equally as rumpled.

you grin. “well.”

he matches your smile, though it’s fleeting. “call you, yeah?”

unlocking your car door, you nod. “please do, mr. deacon.”

he shakes his head on a chuckle and shuts the door, waving gently as you pull out of the drive. when you’re several homes away, out of eyesight, you drift to the side of the road and blast the air conditioner. then you pound your fists against the steering wheel and let out a muffled squeal of delight.

he doesn’t call you. 

when you sit down to think about it, it’s not that great of a surprise. you’ve been around him only a handful of times, and though you’ve both been comfortable in those moments, you don’t blame him for resisting whatever it is he feels for you. there’s beau to think about. you’re his teacher; surely there’s some line you shouldn’t be crossing? there’s molly too, and her memory and the years they spent together and the child they had together. 

if anything, you figure he’s using you to test the waters of romance again. those stolen touches and deep stares and that kiss in the drive—it’s all just experimentation. the conclusion drawn from those experiments? he’s not ready.

you sigh, take another sip of wine. maybe you should stop driving beau. you like john; you like him a lot. and after that kiss, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. you thought about him before, but never this much. he threatens to consume your every waking moment, and it scares you because he’s not interested. desperately pining after a disinterested man means one thing: ruin. if you stop driving beau home, put some distance between yourself and the deacons, the puppy love and infatuation will fade over time.

it has to or you’ll go crazy.

it’s early evening, and your stomach grumbles. your flat is quiet as you putter around the kitchen in search of a suitable supper. there’s not much in the cupboards and even less in the fridge. you desperately need to go to the grocery store. take-out it is. withdrawing a handful of menus, you spread them out on the counter and flip through them mindlessly.

your thoughts are elsewhere. always on john.

you wonder what compelled him to kiss you. he’s an enigma, john deacon. you’ve seen him in moments of great levity—when he’s around beau or his friends or recounting a story from his youth. he has an infectious laugh, delightful crinkles around his eyes, and a quick wit. but he can be hard, too, like an immovable stone. he’s quick to toss a glare at anyone in his way in those moments of weakness, and his biting wit can turn sour at the drop of a hat. you chalk it up to weariness, those moments. weariness, loneliness, frustration. it doesn’t phase you, though perhaps it should.

with a groan, you drop your forehead to the cool counter and shut your eyes. the kiss lingers on your lips; it has the entire week since. you want him badly—in more ways than one.

the telephone rings, and you startle, clutching a paper menu to your chest. “fuck,” you whisper. you need to get a hobby other than daydreaming. pressing the phone to your ear, you barely get out a word of greeting before someone’s shouting at you on the other end.

“[y/n]? it’s fred! we’ve got a fuckin’ problem over here.”

you frown. “freddie? what’s going on? why are you are john’s? it’s a saturday.”

“no time for that! how fast can you get here?”

“well, i don’t know. i’ve got to—”

“beau’s sick! he’s on the bathroom floor, moaning and groaning and—shit!—[y/n], i don’t know what to do!”

“i’m sure it’s just a tummy ache, fred,” you say. “i see it all the time in my class. give him some pepto and he’ll be fighting fit in the morning.”

“no, [y/n]!” something in fred’s tone—a raw, animal fear—has you standing straight, your heart stuttering in your chest. “he said he feels like he’s gonna die just like molly did!”

“okay, okay.” you begin to move toward your bedroom, but are yanked back by the phone chord attached to the wall. you stumble backwards with a grunt. “okay, i’m coming, fred. just hold tight.”

“fucking hurry!”

you slam the phone down, rush to your bedroom to change from your nightclothes, and jump in the car without a pair of shoes. as quickly as you can you race to the deacon household. the sun dips low, casting an orange glow over the suburban streets lined with family cars. you grip the steering wheel tight, your heart thumping a prayer of protection for beau. 

the driveway of the bungalow is empty, the garage door thrown open. the old convertible john toys with in the evenings is parked inside, but his everyday vehicle is gone. cutting the engine of your car, you run through the garage and into the house. fred stands in the hallway, pressed against the bathroom door. he looks ridiculous, clad in a bright yellow bathroom and bunny slippers, but he pounds his fist against the door, pleading for beau to unlock it and let him in. he turns at the sound of your bag dropping on the carpet.

“oh, thank god,” he breathes. he grabs your arm and wrenches you to his side. “beau, miss [y/l/n] is here. why do you talk with her, huh?”

before you say anything to beau, you frown at freddie. “where’s john?” your whisper sound harsh in the dim lighting of the hallway.

“at the shop. overtime. i can’t reach him.”

you jerk your head to the phone sitting on a side-table in the living room. “go try again and i’ll stick with beau here.” when he’s gone, you slide to a sitting position on the floor and press your ear to the thin wood of the door. “beau? beau, honey, it’s me.”

beau only groans in response.

“beau, can you please open the door? i want to help you. that’s it; just help.”

there’s a pause then you hear: “no. go away.”

“it’s okay if you’re embarrassed, beau. we all get sick sometimes. fred and i just want to help you feel better.”

there’s the sound of water sloshing and then a hard sniff. “i want my mommy.”

“oh, baby, i know.” you clear your throat to work past the lump rising to the surface. “come on, just let me in. i promise it’ll be okay.”

“but... what if i die like her too?”

“that’s not gonna happen, beau. i promise.” he doesn’t respond, so you plead once more. “please let me in.”

he shuffles to the door, unclicks the lock, and cracks it open. through the opening, you can see his pale face gleaming with sweat. gently, you push the door open further.

beau’s curled on the floor, his head bent toward his knees. his arms tighten around his stomach, and a spasm ripples through his body. he’s dripping with sweat, his star wars pajamas soaked through. hot air clogs the room, and you switch on the overhead fan. pressing your fingers to his forehead, you cringe and draw back. he’s burning up.

“beau, baby, what hurts?” you finger some of the sweat-matted hair away from his forehead. 

“my tummy.”

“what’s your tummy feel like?”

beau shakes his head into the floor. “bad.”

“do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

“already did. on my floor.” he opens his eyes long enough to stare at you through thick lashes. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t apologize about that. we’ll get it cleaned up later. i’m just gonna go get you some water, okay?”

he groans, shifting against another spasm of pain. “okay.”

stepping back into the hall, you grab freddie’s arm before he can slip into the bathroom. you tug him to the safety of the kitchen. his eyes dance between yours, expectant.

“well?”

“did you get ahold of john?”

“no, the fucker.”

“we’ll have to go pick him up then.”

fred’s brow twitches. “what? why? what’s wrong with him?”

you throw a glance down the hall when beau whines. “i think it might be his appendix. my dad’s burst last summer and he looked a lot like beau does now.”

“fuckin’ hell.” freddie runs a hand across his mouth. “just what deaky needs.”

you nod in agreement. “i know. we’ve got to take beau to a hospital, though, before it gets any worse.”

“yeah, yeah, i know. go get the car started and i’ll meet you in a minute.”

several minutes later, you’re en route to the auto-shop, freddie cradling beau in the backseat of your station wagon. the drive is tense, your bare foot hard on the gas pedal. beau wrestles and whines against freddie’s hold, continuously asking for his parents and where you’re taking him.

no one wants to say the word hospital, so his cries go unanswered.

freddie directs you to the auto-shop, his phrases terse, and you pull into the drive with a sharp squeal of tires on gravel. with the car still running, you hurry across the parking lot, loose pebbles catching on your feet. music blasts from a stereo within the garage. it’s loud and obnoxious and keeps you from locating john fast enough.

“can i help ya, miss?” a lithe man steps out of a side office, his hairline receding and face near gaunt. 

“yes—i’m looking for john deacon.”

the man continuously wipes his hands on a dirty rag. none of the oil and grease on his fingers budges. “he’s down there.”

dirt and grime covers the bottoms of your feet as you race down the shop. cars of all varieties line the wall to your left, some stationary on the ground, others lifted towards the vaulted ceiling. there’s a handful of men at work, but you don’t recognize any of them as john. you’re prepared to start shouting his name when a familiar voice stops you.

“[y/n]?” it’s roger. “can’t get enough of our deaky, can you?” he’s chuckling as he steps out from behind a truck. “what are you doing here?”

“it’s beau,” you say, and his face falls.

“over here.” roger wastes no time in finding john beneath a volkswagon beetle. only john’s legs are visible, his knees bent and leather boots firm on the floor. he curses when roger hooks the toes of his shoes around a curve in the sliding plate on the floor and drags john out from under the car.

“what the fuck, rog? i—” john stills when his eyes land on you. his muscle tee is loose over his chest, and a line of grease mars his forehead. he swallows. “[y/n]... i...” he sits up. “i’ve been meaning to—”

though you’re curious about the end of his sentence, you cut him off. “beau’s sick. we’ve got to take him to hospital.”

the blood drains from john’s face in an instant. the wrench in his hand clatters to the cement ground, and he’s grabbing your elbow, pulling you toward the exit, before you can say anything more.

“crystal, i’m gone!” he shouts, practically shoving you in the direction of the car.

there’s either no reply or you don’t hear it because john shouts for freddie to move the fuck over and give him beau. you slide behind the wheel and pause, twisting to catch a look at the scene in the back. 

beau looks like a newborn swaddled in his father’s arms. his face is wet with tears and sweat, and he sobs in his father’s grasp. john feels beau’s forehead and frowns, muttering an oath under his breath. then his eyes flick to yours.

“what are you waiting for? go!”

you don’t need to be told twice.

it’s another fifteen minutes before you reach the hospital. your head throbs under the stress of it all: beau’s pitiful moans for help, john urging you to go faster, freddie barking directions as he slaps the headrest behind you. before you’ve pulled to a complete stop, john is out, beau in his arms. you shoo freddie after him. 

“go! i’ll park the car.”

by the time you’ve found a parking space and picked your way across the parking lot, beau’s been admitted for emergency surgery. his appendix, as you suspected. it’s a routine procedure, and he’ll be fine within the next hour. relief floods your system at the news, and you find john and freddie sitting beneath a large fish tank in the waiting room. you take the open spot beside john and cross your ankles.

“your feet are disgusting,” fred says. he points to the bottoms of your feet, dark with dust, dirt, and grime. 

you shrug. “forgot shoes.”

the quiet of the waiting room is both a comfort and annoyance. a clock on the wall ticks loudly, and the fish tank bubbles at an uneven rate. every breath you take feels too loud, and the antiseptic smells cling to the inside of your nose.

still, the quiet gives you a moment of rest. you catch your breath. you let the knowledge of skilled and capable doctors working on beau ease your heart-rate. it will all be okay; he’s going to be okay.

you glance at john. his fist is pressed against his mouth, his eyes shut. his leg bounces, and you dare to reach over and lay your hand against his knee. he stills, his eyes flashing to you.

“he’s going to be okay, john.”

on the other side of john, freddie jumps to his feet. “i’m going bananas just sitting here.” he rubs the side of his head. “might burst. i’m gonna give brian a call.” he stalks away, his bunny slippers slapping against the linoleum floor.

you shake your head, biting back the urge to smile.

but then john’s fingers curl around yours, and you can’t help but give into the grin.

you look up, meet his eyes.

“i didn’t call you,” he says.

“no, you didn’t.”

he shifts in seat and looks to the floor. “you should be wearing shoes.”

at the turn of conversation, you frown then follow his gaze. “yes, i suppose.”

“take mine.” he releases your hand to bend down and undo his laces.

“no, john, don’t be silly. i’m fine.”

“please, [y/n], take the shoes.” he slides the boots toward you, and you begrudgingly slip your feet into the warmth of his shoes. 

you look silly, the pair of you—your ill-fit mtv t-shirt, loose jeans, and oversized leather boots; his muscle tee with the aptly faded word muscle scrawled across the chest, his faded jeans, and socked feet. one of his toes pokes through the end of his sock, and his exposed arms look cold in the frigid air of the waiting room. you laugh.

“we look like a pair of bikers or something.”

the corner of his mouth twitches upward. “not much of a biker. that’s crystal’s territory.” he doesn’t look at you when he continues speaking. “i’m sorry i didn’t call.”

on a sigh, you drag the boots across the carpet. though it pains you to do so, you let him off the hook. “it’s not a big deal, john. it was just a kiss. no promises.”

“i know.” his head tilts to the side. “but i wanted to call you. nearly did twice, but i chickened out.” he turns, then, and meets your eye. “i like you, [y/n].”

you smile, but know it doesn’t reach your eyes. still, you reach for his hand again. “i like you too, john. i’ve enjoyed getting to know you and your family.”

he shakes his head, and when he speaks, his voice is firm. “no, i like you. that’s why i kissed you and that’s why i didn’t call. because you make me so bloody nervous.”

your shoulders drop, as does your jaw.

“ever since you dropped beau off that first time, i’ve been thinking about you and about you and him together and then he called you mum and i saw the way you acted with him and—” he pauses for a breath. “molly was different with beau. i mean, she loved him, but she was always so fragile and worried and—and that’s not the point! the point is that you make beau happy and you make me happy. and i want to be happy again.”

“john...”

his grip on your hand tightens as he leans closer. “make me happy, yeah? i’m stubborn as a mule and shy, too, but i want you—badly.”

the fire in your heart spreads at his words. it spreads throughout your body until you feel like you could burst and shine a light into even the darkest corners of the earth. a laugh bubbles forth from between your lips. you lift a hand to stifle it.

“you want to know something?” you ask.

“what?”

“i’ve been pining after you, john deacon, ever since i heard your voice over the phone. i was content to just wallow in my daydreams, but this seems better.” you lift your fingers to brush his chin. “a lot better.”

“i can’t promise i’ll make a good boyfriend. i’m pretty rusty.”

“me too. we can be rusty together.”

he grins, leans forward further, his nose brushing yours. “can’t promise there won’t be hiccups. i’ve got baggage.”

“i can carry it.”

he kisses you, his hand on the back of your head, keeping you firm against his mouth. you grin, your teeth knocking his as you laugh. his curls are soft against your fingertips, and you hold on for dear life when he chuckles into your smile.

“mr. deacon?”

john kisses you once, twice more, before pulling away to look at the doctor. “yeah?” he doesn’t sound the least bit embarrassed to be caught in such a position in the middle of a hospital waiting room, but you hide your face against his neck. your cheeks hurt your smile is so wide.

“beau’s ready to see you now.”

john stands and extends at hand. “comin’, dove?”

your footfalls are hard against the ground, the boots heavy around your ankles, as you walk with him hand-in-hand to beau’s hospital room. you lean against his side, breathe the comfort of him in, and smile.

yes, this is much better than your daydreams—baggage, boots, beau, and all.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Superstar | Julie Molina

JATP x BTR crossover week, Day 4: Elevate

Song used: Superstar - Big Time Rush | Also a tiny bit of This Is Gospel (piano version) - Panic! At The Disco 

Pairing: Julie x reader

Summary: For a psychology project, the students have to shadow someone completely opposite from their own personality to notice difference, similarities and other things they notice. Julie knows exactly who she’d want to pair up for this. Though it doesn’t quite go the way she thought it would. 

A/N: Thanks @jatp-btr​, @meangirlsx​ and @darlingsteveharrington​ for this amazing idea! Honored to be a part of this! 

Warnings: Mention of abusive parents

Words:  5,107

Fire and ice. Good and bad. Dark and light. Hot and cold. Black and white. 

All polar opposites. All words that perfectly describe Julie and y/n. Which is exactly why Julie immediately looked at the girl with the smokey makeup and all-black outfit when their psychology teacher told them to pair up with someone that wasn’t anything like yourself. 

While Julie is all light and fluttery like a butterfly, y/n is dark and sturdy like a castle. But Julie knew that even castles can have the most beautiful interiors even if their exterior seems nothing but stone and impenetrable.

Y/N started packing up her stuff at the ringing of the bell, signaling the end of class when she felt a presence in front of her. Slowly, she looked up from her bookbag where she’d just stuffed a binder into and her eyes landed on the overly sweet Latina girl the entire school knew as Julie, from Julie and The Phantoms. She was a celebrity at Los Feliz High School, though y/n didn’t really care about that. It wasn’t quite her scene. 

“What are you looking at me for?” she asked, her tone annoyed at the preppiness of the widely smiling girl. 

“I think we should do the project together for miss Silburn.” 

Y/N let out a loud cackle as she stood up from her chair, shouldering her black bookbag. “Good one, Angel Face.” Y/N moved to navigate past Julie, but the persistent girl mirrored  her movements, blocking the way. “You’re kidding,” y/n deadpanned. 

“I am not. I think it would be super interesting to do this project together, we’re the complete opposite of one another! I think we could learn something from this!” Julie was way too chipper for a first period, which was indication enough for y/n to know that it would indeed be an interesting project to do together. But y/n wouldn’t be y/n if she let this girl waltz all over her. She had to put up a fight, even if she knew she was going to lose. 

“Yeah, I’m learning that you’re annoying and are gonna make me late for PE.” She pushed past Julie, but the girl didn’t give up. 

Julie crossed her arms over her chest. “I know for a fact you don’t go to PE.” Y/N stopped in her tracks in the doorway. “You suffer from migraines and thus don’t participate in PE because the physical activity triggers them.” A silence fell for a few heartbeats, five, to be exact. Y/N counted them until the loud, thumping heartbeats in her chest were drowned out by the girl’s voice. “If I can find out this information from just a few sources, imagine what else I can uncover. I’m gonna do this project about you, y/n, with or without your help. So, take your pick.” 

Y/N whirled around to face the Latina girl again, her head tilted to the right ever so slightly as her eyebrows pinched together. “Why?” she asked and crossed her arms in hopes to come off as more intimidating, though it didn’t seem to phase Julie too much. 

 Julie shrugged. “Because I find you fascinating. You don’t seem to give a crap about anything, nothing ever phases you. You don’t seem to have very many friends besides Damian, who’s practically glued to your side. Nobody knows anything about you, not even Damian.” 

“Then how do you know about my migraines?” Y/N asked as if all the other words she had spoken didn’t make the tips of her ears go warm. 

“Connie,” Julie replied. Y/N nodded her head at the mention of the principal’s secretary. The woman knew everything about everyone. It was kind of terrifying. “So… Will you do this project with me?” 

Y/N considered her options. It was either not participating and have Julie uncover everything about her or participate and have a say in what goes into the report and what doesn’t. 

She inhaled deeply before finally muttering, “Fine. I’m in. But we start tomorrow.” 

Julie’s face lit up as she nodded her head vigorously. This was too good to be true. Y/N, the mystery no one knew anything about was going to work on a project with her. A very intimate and mentally challenging project. This was about the best thing that had happened to her all day and it was only ten in the morning. 

Julie had decided for the both of them that they’d start with her, so she texted y/n her address to make sure they really started from the first second of the day up until the last. Though none of it was without a whole bunch of whining from y/n as she never spoke to anyone in the mornings. 

But Julie knew exactly what she needed to do to change that. She had to bribe the woman with pastries and a hot mocha. That’s all y/n needed to be ready to go on Julie’s porch at eight in the morning. 

For a whole day, y/n ran behind Julie like a little shadow. She stood back whenever she spoke to any of her friends, not feeling like engaging with strangers, ever. Or at least not until Flynn complimented her black suede jacket and in particular the pin that she’d stuck on it. It was a pin she’d made herself that read “Your ‘everything better plan’, somewhere in Neverland”, one of y/n’s favorite All Time Low lyrics. 

“I love All Time Low!” she said with a wide smile. “Where’d you get that pin?” 

“I made it myself.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah!” 

Conversations normally ended there for y/n. It was enough for people to find her weird or a nerd. Enough for people to suddenly lose all interest in her. But Flynn surprised her when she uttered her next words. 

“Can you make me one?” 

Y/N looked at the big, brown-eyed girl in front of her, then glanced down at her best friend who was looking at y/n with expectant eyes. She knew her coffee order and she knew about migraines, but she did not know about people not furthering conversation after that confession. She did not know all of this was new to her. 

“Uhm, yeah. Sure,” she tried to be as indifferent as she could to try and keep up her persona of being the bad girl of Los Feliz high. Of course being with two angels, the polar opposites of y/n’s own personality, she had to go soft at some point of the day. “Just message me on Instagram or something with your general idea of what you’d like and I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Cool! Thanks!” Flynn beamed. 

The bell rang and the three girls dispersed. One of them heading to drama class, the other two heading down to maths together. Miss Silburn had Connie adapt her students' schedules to match one another’s, so that they could actually spend the entire day together for the project. So, y/n and Julie could just stick by each other’s side for a day. 

Y/N had to admit it was a nice change of pace for once. People smiled at her and said hello, while they would normally avoid all eye contact or they wouldn’t even notice she was in the room as she always sat in the back everywhere. She was happy when the final bell rang and Julie and y/n could head home together. 

“You wanna come and sit into my band rehearsal?” Julie asked as they exited the school building, heading into the cool October air. As the wind picked up, y/n’s long hair swept up, giving her an angel-like glow, almost. Julie had yet to see her in another light other than the broody, black-all-day-all-the-way girl, but even as the wind swept her hair back, Julie could see a sliver of the tranquility that rested on her face. 

Y/N felt Julie’s gaze on her, and to not show the Latina girl the back of her neck heated up, she asked a question instead. “So, I heard your band consists of holograms from Sweden?” 

Julie nodded her head as they walked down the sidewalk into the direction of Julie’s house. “Yep, they are… From Sweden. And holograms.” Y/N raised her eyebrow at the girl before a chuckle tumbled out of her mouth, causing Julie to look up in confusion. 

“You don’t think I believe that, do you?” 

“Uhm…” Julie scratched her temple. Her brown eyes stared up into y/n’s suddenly brighter ones. 

“I see you talking to them in school all the time. I know they’re ghosts. My grandmother used to be into some voodoo shit. She used to try to convince us she saw ‘shadow people’ all around the house all the time and we never believed her. But when I saw your little stunt you pulled a few months back and I could still see them when they weren’t on the stage, I guess I figured gran must’ve been right and she had some sort of gift that she passed onto me.” 

Julie had a tender smile on her face as she listened to every word y/n spoke. She loved how the normally closed-off girl was blossoming like a beautiful flower in spring right in front of her eyes. She would’ve never blurted any of that out to somebody else. 

“I don’t know, sounds kinda lame, I know.” 

“No! No, it doesn’t sound lame. I wonder all the time why I can see them and no one else can…” Julie trailed off a little as her mind went over a thousand questions at the same time. “Do you think I have a gift like yours or your grandma’s?” she finally settled on. 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know enough about that to tell you for sure. And my gran passed away last year, so I can’t ask her either.” 

Julie pressed her lips together and a silence fell over the both of them. For the first time in an entire day, the quiet didn’t feel like a dark looming shadow that hovered over them. This time, it felt comfortable. Like they were wrapped up together in a fuzzy blanket of silence. 

The curly-haired girl broke said comfortable silence when she walked into the garage with y/n in tow, where three boys sat chilling on the sofas. Two of which with an instrument in their lap. “Hey boys!” 

The three boys looked up, all smiles and lit up eyes, glad their friend was home after a long day at school. Until their eyes fell upon the girl behind their friend and their happy faces were replaced with confused, curious faces. 

“Who’s the new girl?” The dark-haired one with the rosy cheeks asked. 

“I’m y/n, Julie and I are working on a psychology project together.” Her answer had the boys’ eyes widen and sputter some exclamations of confusion as they scrambled up from their spots and rushed towards the two girls to investigate a little further. 

“She can see us?” the blondie finally spoke up. He was tall and skinny, a healthy glow on his face. “Jules, why can she see us?” 

Julie and y/n exchanged glances, both trying to withhold their laughter. “We’re not sure.” 

“Yeah, I mean, it might have to do with my grandma being gifted with the paranormal things, but we’re not sure,” the new girl explained, “I saw you guys after you performed that song at the pep-rally.” 

Mister Rosy Cheeks’ eyes widened as he remembered what he’d done that day. “Y-you mean you saw… You saw….” he sputtered in absolute horror. Y/N chuckled and nodded her head, remembering how she saw the guy in the flannel run up the steps and shake his booty, presumably to check if no one could see them anymore. 

“You got moves, bro,” she simply said and held out her fist for a fist bump. 

Without thinking about it twice, Mister Rosy Cheeks pounded his fist against hers, only for his hand to go right through the girl’s. “Oh… right…” the boy muttered and returned to his spot beside the brunette with the beanie. 

“I’m Luke, by the way,” he said and saluted y/n. 

“Alex,” the tall blonde said with a kind smile as his eyes scanned y/n’s entire body as if trying to detect something. 

She ignored it and let her eyes land on Mister Rosy Cheeks. “I’m Reggie.” 

“Let’s get rehearsing, yeah?” Julie suggested, clapping her hands together. All three boys nodded curtly before getting to their usual spots in the garage whilst y/n took a seat on the big couch on the opposite side of the space.

“What song do you want us to play, y/n?” Reggie asked as he plucked a few strings on his bass. The girl raised an eyebrow at the boy. She knew exactly what song she wanted them to play, but for some reason, she felt the need to be defensive over the fact she liked their music. 

“What makes you think I know any of your songs?” she asked. 

Reggie stuttered and incomprehensive sounds tumbled out of his mouth. Luke then took the lead from his buddy. “Let’s just do Finally Free,” he said. Y/N’s mouth curved up on one side as the song she wanted them to play came off Luke’s lips. Either he can see right through her or she’s just so predictable, which is a word no one would use to describe y/n. Ever. 

“That was pretty decent,” y/n half-complimented when they finished their rehearsal. 

Truth be told, she was having a difficult time trying to keep still to the beats Alex was creating on his drums. She’d always had a weakness for the drums. As a kid, she wanted to play the drums, but her parents never let her. Instead, they sent her off to piano lessons instead and though she loved the instrument, she’s always loved the drums a little more. 

“Decent?” Luke exclaimed as he placed his guitar on its stand. “You know you’re talking to the band who opened for Panic! At The Disco at the Orpheum, right?” 

Y/N stared at him, an unimpressed look plastered onto her features. “Do you even know who Panic! is?” This question rendered Luke silent. “That’s what I thought.” 

Y/N got up and made a beeline to the grand piano. As she took a seat on the stool behind it, intrigue peaked within the band and they gathered around the piano, leaving their instruments behind. 

Her fingers softly caressed some of the white keys, sending a high-pitched note through the studio before properly placing her fingers and creating a beautiful melody. Soon thereafter, her voice rang out into the space as well, blowing the very talented band in front of her away, especially Julie. She did not expect this girl to be this talented. 

“This is Gospel for the fallen ones Locked away in permanent slumber Assembling their philosophies From pieces of broken memories”

She had her eyes shut the entire time, not daring to even take a peek at the reactions of the small audience in front of her. It had been a while since she even sang in front of her parents, let alone strangers she had met not even an hour prior. 

“The gnashing teeth and criminal tongues Conspire against the odds But they haven't seen the best of us yet”

Finally, she opened her eyes to find Luke resting his head in his hand, his elbow propped up on the piano wing while Reggie and Alex had just dropped their hands on the top. Julie’s eyes were wide as she had her hands wrapped around Alex’s arm and an endeared smile resting comfortably on her lips. 

Y/N smiled before taking her voice up a notch, belting out the chorus.

“If you love me let me go If you love me let me go Cause these words are knives that often leave scars The fear of falling apart And truth be told I never was yours The fear, the fear of falling apart”

Her hands came to a halt and she pressed her lips together, anticipating their reaction. Julie took a sharp breath in while letting go of Alex’s arm. 

“You have the voice of an angel,” Luke whispered as he stood up straight again. 

Both Alex and Reggie nodded their heads in agreement while Julie stayed silent. Y/N braced herself for the girl’s critique, the only critique that really mattered to her right now. They were doing this project together, so y/n wanted to give her something to write about in the report, especially if it was something Julie herself was really good at. 

“You…” Julie whispered. Y/N heart beated in her throat. “You are one big mystery and you keep surprising me.” The girl behind the piano allowed herself to breathe again. She stood up and came out from behind the piano to where the others were. 

“I had to give you something to write about in your essay for psych, right?” she said nonchalantly as if her heart wasn’t beating faster with every glance and smile Julie gave her right now. 

“Right…” Julie mumbled, unable to take her eyes off the girl. 

She grabbed her bookbag from the couch and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m gonna get going. Meet me tomorrow at my place, Julie?” 

The Latina girl didn’t entirely trust her own voice to speak right now, so she just nodded. Y/N waved at the boys, muttering a ‘bye’ before exiting the garage, leaving Julie and her phantoms by themselves. 

All three boys whipped around simultaneously with the exact same expression on their face. 

“What?” Julie asked. 

“Someone has a crush…” Reggie replied, a smirk playing at his lips. 

Julie’s face flushed red. “What? No! We’re just doing a project together.” 

The boys raised their eyebrows. They knew Julie well enough to know when she had a crush. She looked at y/n the same way she used to look at Luke when they were dating a few months back. 

And they were definitely right. Julie was developing a crush on the mysterious girl but she didn’t think y/n would ever feel the same way about her. She didn’t even know if she was queer or not. She knew barely anything about the girl, and still, she felt intrigued by her. She felt like she needed to get to know her better. Especially after having uncovered so much today already. 

Maybe tomorrow would bring more clarity. 

 The next day was pretty similar to the first with Julie following y/n around to her classes instead. Though this time, they sat with Damian at lunch instead of Flynn. And while y/n was a bit more subdued around Flynn, Julie definitely wasn’t around Damian. The two chatted all-things music the entire lunch break long. 

Y/N couldn’t help but admire Julie. She was so easy-going and chatty with everyone, a characteristic y/n wished she possessed. It was a good move of Julie’s to partner up for this project. The differences were immaculate. 

“There’s a party tonight at Carrie’s, wanna go?” Damian asked the two girls, making y/n snap out of her thoughts. 

“Uhm, sure,” she replied, then turned to Julie who gave her a pained expression. “Come on, Molina! You kinda have to for the purpose of the project.” Julie glared at the girl next to her before letting out a deep sigh. 

“Fine. But I’m not gonna drink!” 

“That’s what I always say, but never hold myself to,” y/n muttered and although Julie rolled her eyes, she couldn’t hide the smile that was threatening to spill on her face. 

That night, after a lot of discussion as to why they couldn’t get ready at y/n’s house, Julie agreed to let it happen at her place. She had snacks and drinks at the ready upstairs and her makeup all laid out for them to start working on their faces. 

When the bell rang, Julie sprinted down the stairs to make sure she’d beat her dad or brother, but by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, y/n was already inside with the boys by her side. Julie raised her eyebrows at her band members before letting her eyes land on the girl in their midst.

She was dressed in dark red military pants with a chunky belt and a silver chain hung from the belt loops. A black mesh top covered the top half of her torso, a black crop top underneath it, and just a fragment of her stomach exposed, which revealed the tattoo that decorated her skin. 

“That’s a banging outfit, y/n,” Julie beamed before turning to the boys. “And what are you guys doing here?” 

The boys sputtered, exchanging panicked glances. Neither of them had thought of a well-enough excuse for them to be there besides to see the girls’ crushes on each other blossom. “They’re coming with us,” y/n then said, unaware of the real reason why they were waiting for her on the driveway. 

“Uhm… Okay?” Julie narrowed her eyes at the boys, who all tried to avoid her inspecting gaze. “Let’s go then, y/n. Make me pretty!” She said and added a ‘like you’ in her mind. 

“That won’t be too hard,” y/n muttered before following behind the Latina girl. 

About half an hour later, y/n had finally finished Julie’s makeup look. Though she didn’t need that much at all, her skin was practically flawless and her eyes were too pretty to heavy it up with lots of eyeshadow. So, she simply added some highlighter and a bit of contour, and used only nude tints on her eyelids. To finish off, she added a toned-down winged eyeliner. 

 “There you go!” the makeup artist stated and placed the brush on Julie’s vanity table. The girl opened her eyes and looked into the mirror in front of her. A gasp left her lips as she inspected her entire face. The gleaming highlighter on her cheekbones, the chiseled look the contour gave her, the eye-makeup. All of it looked perfect. And not at all like the no-makeup makeup look Julie normally sported. 

“What can’t you do?” Julie mumbled. 

Y/N giggled at the compliment before starting on her own makeup, hoping to mask the fact that she was blushing like crazy. While she did her makeup, Julie admired her in the mirror. She watched her every move like a hawk. Not because she wanted to see everything y/n was doing, but because she just thought it looked incredibly attractive to watch the girl pour out her art in such a unique way. 

At this moment, Julie saw a completely different version of her. She wasn’t the dark, mysterious girl the school made her out to be. She didn’t even look like the girl in the studio, playing the piano. No, this girl had different levels to her personality and Julie had only been awarded with a few. 

Though she might be the biggest subject of the school’s gossip cliques and she lets herself go wild more than the average teenager in Los Feliz, Julie could see that there was more to her than just that. Y/N was a star, but only Julie could see that. She only let it out around her.  

It had already been an hour past the time the party would commence by the time y/n and Julie rolled up to the Wilson house. Music was thumping through the speakers, the bass palpitating through the floor and the girls’ lungs. It was one of y/n’s favorite feelings in the world. No matter what party she went to, it was always the best way to forget about anything that’s happening at home. 

For the entire night, y/n let herself go with Luke and Reggie quietly by her side. They were dancing beside her, giving her enough space to move freely without having to accidentally run through them. All while Julie stood on the sideline, watching, when Alex poofed in beside her. 

“You still gonna deny you have a crush on her, or?” 

“I’m--” she cut herself off, knowing she can’t fool anyone. “Just look at her, Alex. She acts all mysterious and dark when in reality, she’s the brightest star out there. She’s so talented and so intelligent and kind and not at all what the rocklike exterior makes her out to be. Someone snuffed out that light of hers and it makes me sad, you know?” 

“Then why don’t you tell her that?” 

Julie looked up at her friend, her mouth opening without any words coming out. “I don’t know how to tell her all that?” she finally settled on. 

Alex shrugged. “Sure you do.” Julie’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. “What’s the one thing you both have in common?” Her face fell and was exchanged for a bright smile that lit up her entire face as the idea seeped in. 

“You are a genius, Drummer Boy.” 

For the entirety of the week, the two girls spend every waking hour together. They wrote the essay together and spent a lot of time writing a few songs together. But there was one song Julie wrote all by herself and kept away from the prying eyes of y/n and her three boys until it was the right time. 

And the right time was their gig at a local food festival. To say Julie was nervous was a big understatement. After all the gigs they’d done, this one was the most nerve-wracking one out of all of them. Even more nerve-wracking than opening for Panic! at the Orpheum. Only because of the girl that stood in the crowd, awaiting their arrival on the stage. 

“Hi, I’m Julie,” she said into the microphone. The festival quieted down as her soft voice flowed through the air. “From Julie and The Phantoms.” 

Y/N cupped her mouth with her hands and whooped, sending a blush to Julie cheeks as she immediately recognized the voice. With a smile tugging on her lips, she placed her fingers on the right keys. 

“This is a new song of ours, called Superstar.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. She did not know this song. They’d played her the entire set during rehearsal except for this one song. Julie’s eyes landed on y/n with an intense stare. Her friend in the crowd shot her an encouraging smile that told Julie she was there. No matter what. 

“It’s about a girl I know. A girl that shines like the brightest star. A star of which the light was snuffed out. I hope you like it.” Y/N now realized Julie had her eyes on her because the words were directed towards her. Her heart started beating faster while her hands became clammy and her face heated up. 

Julie started playing the synth-like notes on her keyboard and just before she started singing, the boys appeared with her on the stage, playing their instruments. 

“Oh no, it's on tonight Here we go You're looking right, I know you know So go ahead and let it go, go, go, go”

Julie’s eyes locked on y/n’s as she came out from behind her keyboard and made her way towards the middle of the stage. 

“You're shining like a star I wanna be where you are, are Oh no, oh no Let's take over this club You're shining bright in the dark, dark You light up the night”

The boys sang along with her on the chorus and got the crowd to their feet to dance. 

“You wanna wil' out, then wil' out All eyes on you It's going down, down, right now You can't lose You wanna wil' out, then wil' out That's what you do Talk of the town now And you already know that you're a star A superstar That you're a star, a superstar That you're a star, that you're a star, a superstar And you already know”

Luke then took over the singing, looking at Julie as he did. She was dancing around the stage, interacting with the others or the crowd. 

“It's time, I love this feeling Can we rewind To the beginning of this crazy night So, baby, we can let it go, go, go Hey-ey-ey”

Julie’s voice chimed through the speakers then, her eyes locking with Luke’s as they did. 

“You're shining like a star I wanna be where you are, are Oh no, oh no Let's take over this club You're shining bright in the dark You light up the night”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride welling up inside her, mixed with a rush of jealousy. She realized she wanted Julie to look at her the way she was looking at Luke. 

“You wanna wil' out, then wil' out All eyes on you It's going down, down, right now You can't lose You wanna wil' out, then wil' out That's what you do Talk of the town now And you already know that you're a star A superstar That you're a star, a superstar And you already know”

The music slowed down as Reggie worked Julie’s keyboard whilst she sang the bridge to y/n. It almost seemed as though the entire crowd vanished and it was just Julie and y/n in there. 

“Forget the moon, ignore the sky 'Cause the whole world is all yours tonight Get it girl, it's your time Shine until the morning light The light The morning light 'Cause you're a star A superstar”

They picked up the pace again and as Julie threw her fist in the air on the high note, y/n mimicked her, a bright smile lighting up her entire face. A smile the neighborhood had never been graced with, but Julie had. 

“You wanna wil' out, then wil' out All eyes on you It's going down, down, right now You can't lose You wanna wil' out, then wil' out That's what you do Talk of the town now And you already know that you're a star A superstar That you're a star, a superstar That you're a star, that you're a star, a superstar And you already know”

As the crowd roared and the boys vanished after having taken their bows, Julie rushed off the stage towards y/n, who was already running up to her. They met in the middle of the room, wrapping their arms around one another. 

“That was magical!” y/n whispered as she burried her face into Julie’s soft curls. They smelled of violets and honey, she noticed. 

“I meant every word of it.” 

“You did?” 

Julie pulled away from the hug and let her hands glide down from her shoulders to her hands, intertwining their fingers together as she spoke. “Of course. Y/N, you  are so special and so freaking talented, seriously. I see how you shine on that dancefloor the other night or even when you’re playing the piano. I hate to see you hide all that talent away. I don’t know who snuffed out your light, but what I do know is that you are a superstar that can shine so brightly if only she surrounded herself by the right people, if only she let herself shine.” 

Y/N wasn’t sure what this girl had done to her, but she felt changed. She felt as though she could conquer an entire world. As though she could conquer her abusive parents. She felt like a superstar. 

JATP Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @bookdealer5​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @hemmingsness​ @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ifilwtmfc​ @angryknightstatesmantrash​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon​​ @caitsymichelle13​​ @calamitykaty​ @wiselight​ @kcd15​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ @stars-soph​ @kinda-really-lost​ @notasofti​ @alexpjoyner​ @n0wornever​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @tefilovesreading​ @happinessinthedarkesttimes @pxperphxntom​ @crybabyddl​ @happinessinthedarkesttimes​

[lifesizehysteria]

Window Seat | An AdamsFoster Fic

Fandom: The Fosters/AdamsFoster Rating: M Summary: Stef doesn’t quite seem like herself during dinner so Lena does what she can to help her relax A/N: I technically finished this about six years ago but never posted it and then basically rewrote almost all of it when I came back to it. Initially inspired by some naughty tags by @hyadamsfoster on a post long, long ago.

~

Dinner was louder than usual, despite both of their eldest two sons being out for the evening. Connor was joining them for the night and Jude was always more animated when he was over. The kids were all talking at once, shouting jokes and laughing across the table. Aside from a bit of conversation and the occasional reminder to actually eat their dinner, Lena’s participation was minimal. Which didn’t bother her at all. What did bother her was that her social, extroverted wife had hardly spoken since they sat down. Stef picked at her food, a telltale crease of unease between her brows, and though she offered a smile to Lena every time she caught her gaze, it never made it to her eyes.

When Stef got up from the table, Lena watched as she scraped her half-eaten plate into the garbage and set it in the sink. Then she stopped behind Lena, squeezing her shoulder as Lena turned to look up at her.

“I’m gonna head upstairs for a bit. I’ll come back to help with clean up later.”

“Don’t worry about it.” A tender smile pulled across Lena’s mouth. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure? You made dinner.”

“Yep. It’s fine. I’ll make them help me.” Lena waved her hand in the direction of the kids who were chattering too loudly to hear themselves get volunteered.

“Thanks, hon.” Stef’s shoulders sagged in relief as she pressed a kiss into Lena’s hair.

“Of course.” Lena nuzzled Stef’s hand between her shoulder and her cheek, then watched her wife walk out of the room, wondering what was wrong.

~

Lena had already gotten most of the food put away and was ready to start washing the dishes by the time the kids finished eating.

“Do you want help?” Callie asked as she brought over all the plates collected from the others. “It’s supposed to be Brandon’s night.”

Lena smiled at her daughter and held her hands out for the stack of dishes. “Don’t worry about it.”

Callie stared at her for a moment. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t mind...”

“Yes. Go hang out with everyone. Have fun.” The rest had already escaped into the other room without a second thought towards Lena or the cleanup.

Callie smiled with the corners of her mouth pulled down, shrugging one shoulder a little. “Okay. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” When she lingered, looking unsure, Lena raised her eyebrows at her, grinning. “Go.”

“Yeah, okay.” Callie gave a little laugh, crossing her arms over her stomach as she turned and left the room.

Lena sighed to herself as she set down the plates and turned on the hot water. It was hard to believe that after a year, they were still having to convince Callie to just... be a kid. She had such a good heart and Lena didn’t mind having at least one kid who could be counted on to clean up after herself but sometimes it still felt like they needed to remind her that they had things under control and didn’t need a third parent in the house. It was much better than it used to be, though, so she was at least grateful for that.

She set to work on the dishes and her mind drifted from Callie to the weekend. Saturdays were always their busiest days and on top of the usual running kids around to various activities, they also had to drop Connor off at home and find time to get to the grocery store. Just thinking about it was daunting and she felt a familiar twinge of gratitude that she at least had Stef to help. It would have been impossible alone.

With the last dish in the dishwasher, she set it to run and wiped down the counters while creating a plan. Jude would come with her to take Connor home on the way to drop Mariana off at her dance rehearsal. Stef would take Jesús to his wrestling match across town where Lena and Jude would meet them for the match, then one of them would take Jesús and Jude, pick up Mariana from the school, and bring them home while the other stopped at the store. Callie was set to walk to group and Brandon could come to the match if he wanted. Feeling satisfied, both with her arrangements for everyone and the cleanup, Lena washed her hands before grabbing the dishrag to take upstairs to the laundry.

On her way, she stopped by the living room, standing in the doorway with one hand on her hip. “Everyone okay in here? Need anything?” The kids fell into a hush, Jude’s face flushed red, still caught in a fit of muffled giggles as they all turned their attention to her.

“No, we’re good.” Mariana spoke for the group and Callie’s head bobbed in agreement beside her.

“Alright,” she said with an easy smile. “Everyone in their rooms at ten, lights out at eleven.”

“Yeah, we know, Mama.” Mariana rolled her eyes, though she wore a bright smile.

Lena raised her eyebrows but otherwise let the attitude slide. “Alright, fine. Goodnight. Love you.” A chorus of I love yous were returned and Lena left the room, shaking her head as she mounted the stairs.

At the top, she was surprised to find her bedroom door closed. Something was up with her wife; she knew that. But a closed door this early in the evening usually meant “I’m sleeping” or “I’m mad.” Hoping to find Stef napping but with just a touch of trepidation, she padded down the hallway and cracked open the door.

Their bed was empty. Stef was curled up on the window seat, her body language disguised behind the newspaper she was reading. Lena slipped into the room, locking the door behind her, just in case. She didn’t want the kids walking into a fight.

“Hey,” she said from her spot in front of the door.

“Hey.” Her wife poked her head around a corner of the paper, regarding her over the top of her reading glasses. She still looked tired but otherwise her usual self. Letting her guard down, Lena took the dishrag and threw it in the laundry hamper before crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed in front of her.

“You okay?” She reached out, rubbing the outside of Stef’s calf, just below her knee.

“Of course.” Stef gave her a weary smile. She folded the newspaper, setting it on the seat beside her, then slipped off her reading glasses and placed them on top of the paper.

“Are you sure? You were quiet at dinner and then you disappeared up here right away…” Lena’s hand continued its steady caress on Stef’s leg and her head tilted in concern. Stef rubbed the bridge of her nose where her glasses had been before sitting up and leaning forward.

“I’m fine, love. Promise,” Stef reassured her, her smile brightening with a bit of effort. She took Lena’s hand from her leg and brought it to her lips, kissing the tops of her long dark fingers. “I’m just tired. And stressed. They’re really running us hard at work and I needed some time to just decompress before our busy weekend. That’s hard to do with our noisy brood.” With a deep sigh, Stef let go of Lena’s hand and leaned back against the window.

“Well,” Lena gave Stef’s knee a pat, “I worked out a plan for tomorrow so that’s one thing you can take off your plate.”

“Yeah?” Stef picked her head up to look at her and Lena confirmed with a nod. “You’re amazing,” she sighed and rested her head back again. Lena smiled down into her lap. “And thanks for taking care of the dinner cleanup,” Stef added after a quiet moment, closing her eyes. “I owe you one.”

“It’s fine.” She offered her reassurance with a gentle squeeze to Stef’s thighs. “You don’t owe me anything. We all need a break sometimes.”

Everything about Stef’s body language told her she really did need that break. Despite reclining, she was stiff with an uneasy tension, her shoulders and neck rigid. When Lena started to knead her fingers into the muscles of her thighs, she thought she might as well be massaging a marble statue, they were so tight.

“Have I told you recently that I love you?” Stef’s eyebrows rose in question but her eyes remained closed. “Because I really, really do.” The declaration was accompanied by a lilt of appreciation as Lena’s hands worked out a bit of the tension from her legs. She settled down lower, scooting her hips out to the edge of the seat.

Lena continued the massage, working her way up Stef’s thighs, watching her face grow more and more relaxed. It was a stunning sight. Her blonde hair fell around her face in uniform waves from being unbraided. The light makeup that was standard for her workdays darkened her eyelashes just enough to be alluring. A pleasant smile turned the corners of her mouth upwards, beckoning Lena in.

She crept across the space between them until she was straddling Stef’s lap, then swept her blonde hair behind her shoulders.

“Hi…” Stef invited an explanation as she peered up at Lena from beneath her lashes but Lena didn’t offer one.

“Hi,” was all she breathed back.

Stef had a gentle grip on Lena’s thighs, securing her a bit more firmly in her lap. “What, uh... What’re you doing?”

Holding Stef’s gaze, she ran her fingers over her shoulders and up into the hair at the nape of her neck. The corners of her mouth lifted just so. “Helping you decompress.”

Stef’s eyebrows rose again and she tipped her chin up. “Uh huh...” she smirked. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

Lena hummed a quiet laugh, pursing her lips. “Presumptuous.”

She began rubbing gentle circles into her scalp. Stef tipped her head back, eyes already closing. Though she hadn’t thought it possible, the muscles at the base of her skull were even tighter than the muscles in her legs so, anchoring her thumbs behind her ears to give herself leverage, she added more pressure. While she didn’t have the strength Stef had, this wasn’t going to be something she could muscle through, anyway. Endurance was more important and, well, she had plenty of that. She worked until the muscles started to give a little beneath her fingers, then began seeking out individual knots. As she massaged out each one, a little more tension seeped from her wife’s body until her back and shoulders sagged against the window and her head grew heavy in Lena’s hands. When Lena pressed her fingers at the nape of her neck and pulled them down to her shoulders, then pressed her thumbs back up as if she were a sculptor working clay, a low moan rumbled deep in Stef’s chest.

After a few more passes, confident in her work, Lena’s hands grew still. With her head tipped back, Stef’s neck was exposed all the way to her chest and down to the cleavage that dipped below her shirt. If that hadn’t been enticing enough, the absolute serenity on her face certainly was. It was unguarded and vulnerable in a way that Stef rarely allowed and Lena couldn’t help but be pulled into it.

Leaning down, she brushed the lightest kiss against Stef’s lips, making her inhale in surprise. She kissed her again, then the corner of her mouth, her jawline, below her ear—each one more open-mouthed than the last. When she let her breath rush against her ear, Stef shuddered and her grip on Lena’s thighs tightened. She ran her tongue along the edge of her ear, drawing out another moan, this one much more desperate than the last. Grinning, she rewarded her with a gentle nip to her earlobe.

She was getting ready to move on when she felt Stef’s hands slide back around to her backside, pulling her in against her. At the same time, her lips landed beneath her jaw. This was not part of her plan but Lena didn’t make any effort to stop her. Instead, as Stef kissed her way down the length of her neck, she closed her eyes and leaned in. Which one of them she was indulging, she didn’t really know. She also didn’t care. Her fingernails scraped against Stef’s scalp, gripping the hair at the nape of her neck as her skin tingled beneath Stef’s lips. She couldn’t stop her hips from grinding down against her lap but when Stef reached the peak of her collarbone, the sting of a gentle suck cut through the haze settling over her and got her back on task, albeit a little begrudgingly.

Urging her back up, she kissed Stef’s lips one more time before climbing off of her lap. Sliding her hands up the insides of her wife’s thighs, she pressed her legs apart as she knelt down between them. Stef’s eyes were on her as she pushed her sweater up to expose the taut muscles beneath. She kissed her way across them, her tongue traipsing along behind her featherlight fingertips as they twitched beneath her touch. When she reached the waistband of her jeans, she unbuttoned them and slowly dragged open the zipper, pulling them open so she could kiss her way even lower.

“Lena.”

She raised her head to find her wife with her lips parted and her eyes dark. She didn’t need to say anymore. While Stef lifted her hips, Lena wriggled her jeans down, pulling them off along with her underwear, and tossed them aside.

Back tracking just a little, Lena started just below her bellybutton and kissed her way down again, dipping the tip of her tongue down between her folds as she reached them. Using her thumbs to open her, she found her wet and fully primed. With no need for more foreplay, Lena settled in, forgoing any desire to tease that she would have indulged under other circumstances. The goal was to relax and offer a release of pent up stress, not to make Stef work for it. So she went for her tricks usually reserved for quickies but at a slower, easier pace—things she knew would drive Stef to the edge without any effort. Focusing almost entirely on her clit, she used broad, steady strokes, slowly adding pressure, as Stef’s breathing grew faster and more shallow in tandem. When she let out a soft moan, Lena let her fingers take over for a moment so she could better gauge her pace. Stef’s head was tilted back against the window, eyes closed in concentration. She was close. Lena recaptured her with her mouth, sucking gently before resuming her rhythm with her tongue. A hand pushed into her hair, pulling her closer as Stef’s legs began to shake. Her wife arched into her so she quickened her pace, adding even more pressure until she shuddered, her breath catching as she silently reached her release.

A deep exhale and the hand in her hair going limp signaled to Lena that Stef was fully satisfied so she left her with one last kiss. Sitting back on her haunches, she wiped the wetness from her mouth and chin, gazing at her wife who looked very content reclined against the window, her thighs and neck and cheeks splattered with a bright pink flush. Careful not to disturb her, Lena crept onto the seat and wrapped her arm around her waist, curling up beside her with her head on her shoulder. After a minute or two, Stef let out a pleased little hum and pressed a kiss to the top of Lena’s head.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Lena asked, tilting her face up to look at Stef whose eyes barely opened more than slits beneath her eyelashes.

“Hmm?”

“Did it work? Are you feeling more relaxed?”

“Mhmm.” The sound dragged out from Stef’s chest. “I am completely stress free. Not a care in the world.” A drowsy smile played across her lips. “All thanks to you.”

“Anything for you, babe,” Lena teased before planting a kiss on the corner of her wife’s mouth. “I’m gonna go clean up a bit.” Lena pushed herself up, grabbing Stef’s jeans from the floor and tossing them to her. “You might want to put these back on.”

“Hold on a minute,” Stef said, catching Lena’s hand and pushing her jeans back onto the floor. “Who said we were done here?” She pulled Lena down onto her lap and captured her lips.

“I thought you said you were stress free…” she murmured against Stef’s mouth.

“Oh, I am.” Stef’s hand crept beneath the bottom of Lena’s blouse, cool against her skin and making her shiver as it nestled into the small of her back. She could feel her pulse starting to quicken as Stef urged her closer, dusting kisses along the length of her neck. She moaned as she tipped her chin up, eyes closed, her black curls tumbling back behind her shoulders. “But it’s only fair that I return the favor.” She slid her hand up and around to the front of her, teasing her through the fabric of her bra. Lena shivered again. “Especially since I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Lena reminded her while pulling her closer.

“Oh, but I do, my love,” Stef purred, removing her lips from Lena’s neck so she could tug off her shirt. “In fact,” she kissed Lena’s pouting lips then pulled back to flash her a roguish smile, “I think I owe you double.”

[justasparkwritings]

Merry & Bright {15}: Bah, Humbug

Previous: What’s Your Hurry? 

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Swearing! Kissing!

Summary: After a barrage of unfortunate mishaps, all you want is to skip Christmas. 

          You came in hot, snow covering your coat and a tear in your jeans. Your cheeks are red, too rosy for your liking, and your lips are cracked, a combination of windchill and lack of chapstick.

           Stepping into Jimin’s apartment, you let out a frustrated grunt and throw your items on the ground. Jimin watches with surprise as you hurl your coat on top of your bag, kicking each boot off your foot violently.

           You scream in frustration as you stare at your belongings, wet and bloody.

           “Ah, Noona, are you okay?” Jimin asks.

           “Fuck Christmas!” You yell, angry tears starting to fall.

           “Noona,” Jimin is taken aback by your words. “It’s your favorite time of year!”

           “Bah fucking humbug!” You snap, chapped hands wiping your tears away harshly.

           “Baby,” Jimin is taking strides to you but you hold your hand up, stopping him.

           “I’m serious, Jimin! Fuck Christmas. Fuck the holiday season,”

           “Honey you had a bad day, you don’t mean it.”

           “I do! I’m writing my letter to Santa: Dear Santa, I think I’m going to sit this one out. Deck the halls, decorate the tree, wrap the presents without me.”

           “Baby, no,”

           “Everything that could go wrong, is going wrong, and I’m done. I’m done trying. I’m done participating. I’m done spending time on a commercialized holiday that means nothing because no one gives a fuck that Jesus is the reason for the season. So, fuck Christmas. I’ll see you next year.”

           “Baby you can’t be serious,” Jimin is trying not to smile, he knows in your heart you are kidding, but the seriousness of your tone, the tears in your eyes, coupled with the blood dripping down your leg is forcing him to remain stoic.

           “I haven’t even finished my to do list from last year!”

           “It’s not about finishing your to do list,”

           “I just feel so burned out, my cup doesn’t runneth over, it’s empty, dry, not a drop,”

           “I have enough for both of us. Can’t we just celebrate?”

           “No, Jimin, no. I don’t want a tree, I don’t want party lights or snow, don’t even get me started on snow! I just want to pass the holiday in silence, I don’t want to participate in it, I don’t want to be around it.”

           “Did you fall?” Jimin’s voice is soft. His kind eyes and gentle lilt has you in tears again, sobbing, shaking tears. Jimin is quick to usher you to the couch before placing a kiss on your temple and getting the first aid kit from his bathroom.

           “I love these jeans, I’ve had them for so many years, they’re my favorite! And stupid snow ruined them!” You can’t hold back the weeks of anguish bubbling up.

           “I think it would be better if you just take them off,” Jimin suggests surveying the damage. Standing and shimmying out of your jeans is a sight to behold, and Jimin is trying everything in his mind to not laugh at the image. “I don’t have anything else to wear,”

           “I can go to your place and get you something, you also maybe left a pair of sweats from last weekend,”

           “When I spilled red wine on my Ivy Park sweat suit?” You ask, fresh tears falling again.

           “Yeah, those,” Jimin is gently cleaning your wound, softly picking out a few pieces of gravel that tried to burrow into your flesh.

           “Great, more evidence of my failures,”

           “You’re not a failure,”

           “Lies,”

           “Honey, can you just, sit tight while I take care of this?” He asks, eyes staring pleadingly at yours.

           “Fine, ruining my relationship, add that to the list,” You mutter.

           “I thought you were too busy checking off items from last year?” Jimin chides.

           “Fuck you,” You say, more venom than you intend. Jimin’s shaking his head, dark locks ruffling.

           “You don’t mean that,” He says placing two fresh bandages on your knees before placing a gentle kiss to them.

           “No, I don’t,” You confirm.

           “Why don’t I go get your sweats and get you a drink, and we can stay on the couch and watch TV all night. You can order food and I won’t complain when we watch the same five Brooklyn Nine-Nine episodes.”

           “Can we start with The Bet?” Your voice is hopeful.

           “We can start with whatever you like,” Jimin says placing a tender kiss to your temple.

           “Jiminie?” You whisper, eyes wide.

           “Hmm?” He asks, lips still pressed to your skin.

           “I love you,” You state confidently.

           “I love you too, Scrooge,” Jimin stands and winks before disappearing in his bedroom, rifling for the sweats you had nearly cried over ruining. You’d saved up for them, setting aside a little by little to buy the matching coral Ivy Park ensemble. You were devastated when the movie had startled you, and you spilled the liquid all over yourself. Jimin had laughed a little too hard before offering to clean your outfit. You let him, sinking into the couch underneath the mountains of blankets. You thought that was the low point of this Christmas season, but it was truly just a bump on your descent to the bottom.

           You’d been dropping hints to Jimin about taking the next step in your relationship, of moving forward instead of remaining stagnant, so far, he hadn’t caught on. You were up for a promotion that went to a less qualified but more well-known coworker. Your presents to your parents had arrived broken, you’d fallen at least three times, each worse than the last, and your best friend is going through a nasty break up that you can’t guide her through. Oh, and your sister is pregnant for the first time and is nesting hard, making it even more difficult to be far from your family.

           Christmas had always been kind to you, and it seems like it wanted to make up for too much good karma. Too many white Christmases, too many kisses underneath the mistletoe, too many holiday movies and Christmas cookies. Too much love, from your family, from your friends, from Jimin. May the baby Jesus bless Jimin, Jimin, kind of heart, gentle and kind, brilliant and giving and loving.

           “Alright, here you go baby,” Jimin says handing you your coral ensemble.

           “Jimin, did you buy me a new outfit?” Your eyes are unwilling to meet his, too busy scanning your outfit for the remnants of red wine.

           “I, yeah, yeah I did,” He says trying to shrug it off.

           “I, thanks?” You say standing. “I’ll be right back.” You disappear to the bathroom, taking stock of yourself in your new, stainless, coral sweat suit. You bite back the feeling of being mad, of being annoyed that he bought it for you when you were saving to replace it. Frustrated that in your weakest moments, Jimin was unfailingly sweet and kind.

           “Jagi, are you going to stay in there all night?” Jimin’s propped himself opposite the bathroom door and leans against the wall, waiting for you.

           “Yeah, I’m just,” You stop abruptly, no knowing he was so close and lower your volume. “I just needed a minute.”

           “Okay, are you feeling alright?”

           “Everything hurts from the innumerable falls I’ve had,” You say following him to the living room.

           “Then let’s go sit,” Jimin says. He’s set out a few snacks and sparkling water for you both. He sits first, having turned on the TV show and waits for you to sit.

           “Jimin, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” You say, feet beginning to root in the ground.

           “Oh?” He asks, gentle eyes glossing with concern.

           “I, I don’t want us to become stagnant,” Your voice is soft, too soft.

           “Stagnant?”

           “Unmoving, I want our relationship to move forward,” You clarify.

           “Oh,” Jimin says, recognizing your subtext.

           “And I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I think we should move in together,” Your voice is stronger as your sentence finishes, conviction strengthening.

           “I do too,” Jimin says.

           “What?” You ask, unsure you heard him right.

           “I was going to ask you on Christmas, I know your lease is up soon, and I just, I want you here all the time, every minute of every day,” Jimin’s eyes are little moons as he beams at you.

           “Well, I guess we better celebrate Christmas then,” You say shrugging, sitting down next to him.

           “I thought you were going to sit this one out?” Jimin’s still smiling, laughter dancing in his eyes.

           “I couldn’t miss this one, this year.”  

Next: Ain’t Nothing Better Than This

[queenraikichi94]

A song to heal a tired soul 22 (Raikichi x Piers)

Rated: Teen and mature

Warnings: Bad language and some NSFW

Note: Raikichi is around 25-26 years

-----------PART 22-----------------------

I yawned after waking up with the chirps of the Pidoves outside. Then, I opened my eyes slowly and smiled when I saw Piers sleeping pacefully at my side. Last night had been one of the best nights of my life, cause during the dinner, after defeating Lance, Piers asked me for marriage, and of course, I said yes. I stroked his black and white hair, making him smile on his sleep before I stood up in order to prepare some breakfast for both of us. The morning was a bit cold, so I put my sweater with snowflakes over my sleeping clothes and once I got my slippers on, I pulled my hair into a simple bun and I put my glasses on. With Glaceon at my side, I went to the kitchen, finding my uncle there, having breakfast. “Morning, uncle” I said with a yawn

“Morning, kiddo” he said, putting his cup on the table after sipping a bit of coffee “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah” I replied as I started to prepare the breakfast for me and Piers before noticing that there was a box on the table “What’s that?”

“Open it”

I rose an eyebrow but nodded as I took the box on my hands and opened it, revealing two silver chains. I looked to my uncle as I put the chains back to the box “And this?”

“I thought you would like to have a chain for the ring when you don’t have it on your finger” uncle Kabu replied “Also, it’s a good idea having those chains for the rings if you don’t want to loose them while you do things like training or doing exercise”

“Thank you so much, uncle” I said hugging him before returning to prepare the breakfast “You were a little in shock when Piers asked me to marry him”

“Well, is a very important step on your life and I thought you would take more time before that due the things that you have passed through” he said “But let me tell you that I’m happy and proud of you, kiddo. Piers loves you and you love him, and both of you deserve the best”

“His love is the song that heals my soul” I said smiling as I kept preparing the breakfast while my cunle gave some food to Glaceon after he finished his breakfast

“Well, I have to go. The challengers will face me today, and I have to be prepared” uncle Kabu said “Well, I should go and finish preparing myself” he added putting his service on the sink before finishing getting ready. Then, he put his coat on called his Pokemon back to their Pokeballs “See you later, kiddo”

“See ya, uncle, and good luck with your battles” I replied and once he exited the house, I kept preparing the breakfast. Once I finished, I put some decorations and a a gracidea on the plate, I took it and I went to my room, where Piers was still sleeping. I put the plate on my desk before going to his side and kissing his lips, making him smile as he hugged me. “Morning, babe” I purred as I kissed him again.

“Morning, my Queen” he replied smiling as he stroke my cheek “Did you sleep well?” 

“Yeah..And you?”

“Of course, with you at my side I always sleep well” Piers said with a smile before sitting on the bed, crossing his legs and then, he gave me his hairband “I’m not good with the buns”

I smiled and after kissing his cheek, I quick pulled his hair into a ponytail and then, I tried to do a bun, but it was a bit difficult, so I made a simple bun keeping the ponytail “You have a lot of hair to put all of it into a simple bun, but this looks good”

“Thank you, babe” he said once he managed to captured me on his arms in order to kiss me

“Why we don’t leave the kisses and hugs for later? Breakfast is going to get cold” I said and he let me go in order to pick the plate with our breakfast. Piers took it and once I sat down again nex to him, he put it between our laps. I blushed when he picked the gracidea and put it on my hair. 

“You look always pretty, my love” he said kissing my cheek and making me blush more “Alright, let’s have breakfast”

“I prepared some sweets I ate during my journey thorugh different regions” I said as Piers looked at the plates with the food “Old Gateau, Lava Cookies, Lumiose Galette, Shalour Sable, Sweet Hearts and Malasada” I added and chuckled when whe looked at me with a gaze that meant ‘are you sure we’re going able to eat all of this?’. “Don’t worry, I made them small sized. And some hot cocoa with some cinnamon to drink”

“Whoa, Raikichi, this is...I don’t have words” he said before kissing me “You could have woken up me, you know I would be ready to help ya”

“You were sleeping so pacefully that I didn’t want to wake you up” I replied with a purr “Also, this is my gift for you, cause yesterday I couldn’t be the grateful I should have been cause I was exhausted”

Piers chuckled as he poured some hot cocoa on our cups and after we drank a bit of it, we started to eat our breakfast. My fiancée made compliments with each sweet he ate, sometimes with words, and sometimes with kisses. While we ate, we commented some ideas for the wedding, somtimes interrupted by messages that arrived to our phones, and since there were A LOT of mesagges, we decided to anwers the ones we thought there were important. Glaceon and Mimikyu were curled at our feet, napping happily as we continued with our breakfast. Then, one of the messages in my Rotom Phone called my attention. It was from Sakura, and when I opened it, I found a lot of photos of different wedding dresses that made me blush a bit.

“What’s that?” Piers asked after sipping a bit of his hot cocoa “Oh, those are pretty dresses”

“Sakura has sent me a message with a lot of photos of wedding dresses” I said showing him the different dresses “I like this one, with the bare shoulders and the long sleeves” 

“That’s a pretty one...I think I like this one too...Why you have discarded the others?”

“It’s our wedding, I’m not going to feel comfy showing my scars, I mean...I...”

“Hey, don’t worry, babe” he said kissing my cheek “Nobody will preassure you, ‘kay? I’m sure you’ll be pretty on that dress”

“Thanks, love” I replied with a purr before chuckling when he tickled my cheek with his hair “Oh, and Sakura has sent as well some images of wedding suits for you”

“Really? Let’s see them...Oh, I like this one” he said pointing at one black and white tuxedo wedding suit “What do you think?”

“It combines with your hair” I commented with a soft chuckle “We should save these photos now that we have choosen the style of our wedding clothes, and now, let’s finish our breakfast before taking a bath. We should hurry up a little since we have to go with Lanceto the airport here in Mototoske”

“Yeah, that’s true” Piers said as we finished our breakfast. Then, we picked the plate with our service and once we took it to the kitchen and put it into the dishwasher, we went to my room, took clean clothes, and went to take a bath together. We got naked once we were in the bathroom and after entering the bathtub and opening the water tape, I got trapped between my fiancée’s arms, who started to kiss my neck, teasing me and making me blush a lot. “P-Piers...” I said moaning a bit as his kisses turned tender but still kept that teasing thing.

“Yes, babe?” he said with a purr, leaving a soft bite mark on my neck

“You know, we can save this for later” I said putting a finger on his lips “Remember that we have agreed to meet Marnie outside of the Budew Drop Inn after we go with Lance to the airport”

“Alright, alright” Piers said with a chuckle before taking the shampoo “I love teasing you, babe”

“And I love getting my sweet revenge~” I purred while we washed ourselves

Once we were ready, we got dried and dressed, putting the rings on the chains that my uncle bought for us. Having our engagement rings as necklaces in order to avoid loosing them was a good idea, and very practical. After putting the clothes in the washing machine, we exited the house, followed by Glaceon and Mimikyu, who decided to stay on Piers’ shoulders, like a lil kid enjoying a piggy ride on her father’s shoulders. 

We arrived at the Flying Taxi Station near the airport at time, cause Lance was there waiting for us. “I was going to call you in order to know if you have fallen asleep” he said

“Ha, ha, very funny, Lance” I said with a sigh before heading with him and Piers to the airport “Well, it was a pelasure having you here. I hope we’ll see again soon”

“Maybe in your wedding? I would never lost an event like that” Lance replied with a smile before looking at me “I’m really proud of you, Raikichi. You have passed through many things and now you’re starting a new life in the place that you finally call home”

“I know, and it’s thanks to your advise” I said “You told me not to lock my heart forever, remember? Now go, or you’ll go to loose your flight”

“Alright, alright” Lance said with a chuckle “See you in another time!”

Both Piers and me waved our hands as Lance walked away in order to get to his flight at time. Then, when we didn’t see him anymore, we went outside the airport in order to head to the Budew Drop Inn. There, Marnie was waiting for us, and she was talking with Hop and with another boy of their age, that was wearing a strong pink coat, and next to Hop there was a girl with brown and short hair, that was trying to stop a little argue between Hop and the other boy.

“Hey, Marnie, Hop! I greeted as we approached them and before I could something more, Marnie tacklehugged me as she hugged me tightly “M-Marnie...I need breath...”

“Sorry, but I’m very happy and excited!! You and my brother are going to marry!!”

I chuckled as Piers let his sister give him a big hug before ruffling her hair softly. Then, Hop congratuled us for our marriage commitment and then, he present us the girl that was with them. Her name was Gloria and it looked that she was his neighbour and they had Leon’s ownership to participate in the Gym Challenge. I was going to say something when the soft hiss from the other boy, the blond one, called my attention. He was looking a really big golden watch that looked that it was going to fall from his wrist, and his actittude towars Hope, Gloria and Marnie made me let out a soft groan of disgust.

“And you are...?” I asked to the boy as Glaceon hissed so soft that I only could hear

“Bede, and I have the great honor of having the ownership of Chairman Rose himself” the boy said and I shrugged

“Having the Chairman’s ownership doesn’t allow you to trait other people bad” I replied, crossing my arms as Glaceon moved her tail showing her discomfort with Bede “All of the Challengers have the same chances on this challenge, have that in mind, Bede” I added and he growled, but I didn’t care. Then, I smiled at Marnie, Hope and Gloria “My uncle is the first obstacle that you as Challengers must face. Most Challengers give up on their joruney cause they couldn’t defeat him, so I wish you the best of the lucks”

The three of them nodded and together, followed by Bede, went to the Stadium. I sigued as Glaceon yawned and stretched once she calmed down. Then, Piers hugged me from behind and kissed my neck. “Is everything alright, babe?”

“Yeah, don’t worry” I said as I took his hand in order to head the stadium “It’s just I don’t like people like that boy, Bede. He remembers me to that boy, Avery. I don’t like those people who think they’re better than others for absurd reasons”

“Don’t think on that now, Raikichi. That boy, Bede, I’m sure he will change his mind once my sister kicks his arrogant ass”

I couldn’t help but laugh when he said that. Piers smiled and kissed my cheek before entering the stadium. We went to the VIP grades, where the sights of the battlefield were perfect. The battles started and the first defeats suffered by the trainers arrived. Then, it was Hop, Marnie and Gloria’s turn. Hop and Gloria had things easier cause they had a more balance team, but Marnie did very well with her estrategy with her Dark type Pokemon team, and of course, she won. After them, it was Bede’s time. Like Marnie, he had a mono type team, Psychic instead of Dark type, but like Marnie, he got his victory againts my uncle. Maybe he was arrogant and prepotent, but he was a good trainer that showed everyone his estrategy. 

Near than three hours later, the challenges that my uncle had today ended. I yawned and stretched as Piers and me exited the stadium in order to wait for my uncle. Marnie called her brother to tell him that she was going to head to Stow-on-Side to face her next Gym Challenge. “I’m really hungry” I said as my stomach growled. Piers chuckled and grabbed my hips gently, letting me tug him softly by his necklace in order to make him lean down “Don’t tease me like that, babe...We’re in public, you know”

“I know, but I was curious about knowing what type of hunger you have~” he purred as he bited my neck softly before returning to my lips in order to kiss me

“My stomach is growling, but maybe I would get a little but sweet revenge in order to satiate the other hunger, babe~” I purred back before stealing a kiss from his lips and then, I let Mimikyu return to her Pokeball cause she was falling asleep next to Glaceon. Then, I saw my uncle approaching us and I smiled at him. “Hey, uncle, those were really good battles”

“Thanks, kiddo” he said “Sorry, but I can’t have lunch with you. I have to stay on the Gym in order to see more strategies with my trainers cause I’m going to recieve more Challengers”

“Alright, but you won’t escape from dinner, uncle” I said with a chuckle and once we said goodbye to my uncle, we went to have lunch on a restaurant that Piers told me that served the best curry, but then, he thought on a better meal since I didn’t want to have curry for lunch since the weather was a bit hot and I didn’t want to eat a hot meal right now. Instead of curry, we went to eat a fresh meal and I took him to a restaurant that served very good salads with good complements. Once we took a seat in the restaurant terrace, we ordered our meals as Glaceon and Mimikyu played along at our side, and Obstagoon joined them later.As we ate, we spoke about our wedding plans, watching our Pokemon as we waited for our food. When the food arrived, we started to eat, our Pokemon enjoying their meal as well. As we ate, I chuckled when MImikyu tried to play with my engagement ring that I had on my necklace, and that made me remind me on one of my Pokemon.

“Something’s wrong, babe?” Piers asked after eating more of his salad

“Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s just that seeing Mimikyu playing with my necklace made me think on one of my Pokemon”

“Oh, one of your teams? I remember taking care with the others of all your Pokemon, including the ones that you say that aren’t part of your teams but you take them with you”

“Yes, but no one except my uncle Nanu and my uncle Kabu knows about this one in particular” I said “It’s true that I’m used to travel with all of my Pokemon, the ones on my teams and the pnes I have on the backroom, but I don’t show all of them. This in particular...I don’t show her a lot cause a lot of people are after her”

“Why?”

I looked around and once I made sure nobody was near us, I showed him a photo of the Pokemon. “This is Diancie” I said as Piers nodded before I put my phone back “She doesn’t get out of her Pokeball a lot since I’m afraid of seeing her being stolen by furtives, thiefs or poachers...Diancie is the Jewel Pokemon and she is known cause she can create diamonds compressing the carbon particles that are in the air”

“So, if I’m not wrong, the reason of hiding her is because those people would force her to create diamonds, right?” Piers asked and when I nodded, he sighed and and shook his head “Poor one...”

“I know...I want to let her out of her Pokeball more time cause I want her to see the world outdoor apart of spending time indoors”

“But I didn’t see her indoors”

“I know, cause Diancie only trusts me and she’s very shy and I don’t want her to get scared of you or my uncle...But I want her to trust you and my uncle..Oh, I have an idea”

“Uh?”

“After having lunch, we’ll go to my uncle house and I’ll present you to Diancie before we go to Ballonlea since I agreed with Opal to have a battle with her”

“That could be a good start for Diancie to gain trust in more people” Piers said as we stood up in order to pay for our lunch, with Mimikyu on his head, playing with his hair. “Shall we go?”

I nodded and together, we went to my uncle’s home. Corviknight was on the garden, taking a nap on her nest, and when she felt us entering the house, she woke up and greeted us with a happy chirp. I chuckled as we went to the garden, stroking her feathers. “Hi, girl, did you sleep well?” I asked and Corviknight chirper happily before nuzzling me and PIers. Then, my fiancée let Honchkrow out of his Pokeball, and we couldn’t help but smile seeing mother and son nuzzling each other. “Are you ready, babe?” I asked picking a Luxury Ball and when he nodded, I smiled “C’mon, Diancie!”

Diancie got out og her Pokeball and Glaceon quickle went to greet her. Diancie gave few spins chirping happily as Glaceon followed her, but then, her eyes locked on Piers and quickly hide behind me. “Don’t be afraid, Diancie. Piers isn’t going to hurt you” I said smiling as Piers smiled as well “He’s my fiancée. You can trust him”

“Raikichi’s right; you don’t have to be afraid of me” Piers said smiling and Diancie giggled as she clapped and gave spins around him, making chuckle “It looks that she likes me”

“She has noticed that your words are honest as well as your love for me” I replied with a smile before looking to Diancie “Diancie, this battle is going to be the first one you will have after the few battles we had in Kalos. Are you ready for this one?”

Diance nodded and then, I returned her to her Pokeball before kissing my fiancée. Piers nuzzled me after returning the kiss and together, after returning Corviknight to her Pokeball and Honchkrow to his Pokeball, we left the house and went to take a Flying Taxi that would take us to Ballonlea. Once we arrived, we exited the Flying Taxi and went to the Stadium. Ballonlea may would be a small town, but it was beautiful with those luminous mushrooms and the beautiful architecture of the houses and the buildings. Together, we entered in the Stadium, where the Gym trainers greeted us.

“Welcome, World Champion Raikichi and Gym Leader Piers” Theodora, one of Ballonlea Stadium trainers, greeted us with a soft smile. I felt Piers getting a bit tense, and I could understood him since he is a Dark type Gym leader and we were in the town were the Fairy type was the ruler “Please, follow me. Miss Opal is waiting for you in the battlefield”

Both me and Piers nodded and followed Theodora to the battlefield, where Opal was waiting for us. She was speaking with other trainers and then, she turned to greet us. “Oh, the might and young World Champion. I’m glad you finally came here” Opal said and then, she looked at Piers “You look like when you came here to face me during your Gym Challenge, Piers. Still afraid of fairies?” 

“I-I’m not afraid of fairies!” my fiancée quickly replied, trying to hide that he was trembling a bit “I’m a Dark type expert, just that”

“Alright, alright, it’s okay that you don’t want your fiancée know that you were afraid of my Fairy Pokemon” Opal said with a laugh that made Piers shiver a bit. I looked at her, then at Piers and I rose an eyebrow before looking at the old lady again “Oh, don’t worry, dear. When Piers was young and he was facing the Gym Challenge he felt a terrible fear for Fairy Types, specially my Gigantamax Alcremie”

“But I have surpassed it and now I can face other trainers without using GIgantamax or Dynamax” Piers said crossing his arms 

“I can see that...You’re not anymore the scaredy kid that got really nervous with my questions” Opal said with a chuckle before looking at me “Well, my dear Raikichi. Are you ready?”

“I’m always ready”

Opal smiled and then, we took our positions. Piers went to the grades with my jacket on his arms, ready to cheer me up. Glaceon sat down next to me, and meowed. I nodded and I took the Luxury Ball where Diancie was, smiling when I picked it up. “Don’t hold up, Opal!” I said

“I wasn’t going to hold my power, young one” she said and then, she choosed Alcremie “Show me your Pokemon, and remember that this battle is between Fairy types!”

“I know. From the deepest part of the Earth, you shine as the beautiful jewel you are! Go, Diancie!!”

Diancie got out of her Pokeball, making Opal and her trainers open their eyes in surprise. Then, Diancie made a bow in respect before giving a happy spin. “I’ve never seen a Diancie in person...” Opal said “Look at the shine and color of those jewels...It’s clear that Diancie is in good hands.”

“Thank you, miss Opal” I said smiling and then, me and Diancie bowed as well, together with Glaceon “Allow us to show you a beautiful but lethal power”

“Show me then” Opal said and then, the battle started “Draining Kiss!”

“Diancie, dodge it and use Diamond Storm!”

Diamond Storm served as both attack and defense, and Alcremie backed off. “Now, Power Gem!”

Diancie’s move hitted Alcremie, making her getting a lot of damage cause it was an attack that she didn’t have time to dodge. “She is strong, indeed” Opal said “But is Diancie ready to face the power of Gigantamax?”

“And are you ready to face the power of megaevoluion?!” I replied back showing my key stone, and the diancite that she had on her ornament started to bright as well as my key stone. “Evolution beyond evolution!! Diancie, mega evolve!!!”

Diancie started to glow as she mega evolved, and once the shine disappeared, I could tell that everyone there was with their eyes open wide. “When Diancie is on her mega evolved form, she is now as the Royal Pink Princess” I said smirking “And now you’ll see her power! Diancie, Diamong Storm!”

The move hitted Opal’s Pokemon, but it looked like if she didn’t noticed it. Despite that, I could tell that Alcremie really felt that attack. “Now, Alcremie, use G-Max Finale!!”

“Diancie, dodge it!!”

My Pokemon, on her mega form, had a lot of speed, so she moved fasted, dodgin the Gigantamax move. Alcremie used the same move twice, trying to hit Diancie, and when Diancie got near Alcremie, I saw my chance to get points for me. “Now, Diancie, use Stone Edge!!”

Diancie’s attack hitted Alcremie and after the dust cloud dissapeared, we saw that Alcremie returned to normal since she couldn’t stay on her Gigantamax form more than three turns, and that indicated me that it was our time to get the victory.

“Diancie, use Moonblast!!”

Another dust cloud created when Moonblast hitted Alcremie appeared in the battlefield. Of course it won’t didn’t do a lot of damage to Opal’s Pokemon, but Alcremie had suffered a lot of damage for the previous attack, and Diancie’s attack on her mega form was even stronger than when she was in her normal form, so I expected this to be the move that gave me the victory. And then, the dust was gone, and Alcremie was out of combat. Glaceon went to celebrate the victory with Diancie, that turned to normal while she celebrated with Glaceon. I smiled and went to thank Diancie for a great battle, while Opal called Alcremie back to her Pokeball.

“That was such a good battle, Raikichi” Opal said as PIers gave my jacket back “It was a great honor battling againts you and of course, it’s also a great honor meeting Diancie for the first time in my life. You have the pink I’m searching, but I’m not going to cut your wings, Raikichi. You’re the World Champion and you should be free and not being under Rose’s orders”

“Judging your words you don’t like Rose very much” I said

“Maybe he’s the Chairman of the Pokemon League here in Galar, but I have my reasons to avoid people like you being under his orders” the old Gym Leader said “Well, let’s have a break for tea. Wanna join us?”

I looked at Piers and when he nodded, I smiled and nodded as well. Together, we went to a small tea shop in Ballonlea and I tasted some of the most delicious teas I had ever tasted. Piers wasn’t a very big fan of tea, but when he tasted the tea, he told me to buy that specific one, and I couldn’t help but laugh. An hour later, we said goodbye to Opal and took a Flying Taxi back to Mototoske. Uncle Kabu wasn’t at home, so this was the perfect time to have some fun with my fiancée. Once at home, we went to my room, leaving Glaceon and Diancie in the living room. 

“Someone has gotten a bit horny, right?” Piers asked with tease once I closed the door of my room when we entered

“Maybe~” I purred as we got naked and once we got naked, I pulled him to my bed, making him sit on the edge of the bed as I kissed him before going down as I knelt down, with his now hard member in my hand. “You always get this hard for me...I like it~”

Piers blushed madly and let out a moan when I gave a quick lick to the tip of his cock before starting to suck it as my free hand was busy with my sensitive clit. Our moans and groans got us more aroused as I kept sucking him. “B-Babe...Fuck it...You’re so damn good...” Piers moaned as he pulled away my hair gently.

I smirked as I kept sucking, and once I noticed that he started to remble a bit more, I took his lenght out of my mouth before kissing him. He pouted and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t tease me like that babe...” he moaned “I was going to come...”

“I want you to hold it for later, babe~”

“You want to play rough, don’t ya?”

“Maybe~”

And before I could say something more, I got my back againts the sheets and I couldn’t help but moan when Piers capture one of my nipples with his mouth while his free down was now on my wet entrance. “You’re so wet...My naughty Queen...” he murmured as he introduced three fingers inside me, one by one, and then, he started to move them, making me moan louder and arching my back as I begged for more. He smirked as he moved his fingers faster but then, he stopped and removed them when he felt I was near of reaching my climax. “That’s my lil revenge, babe”

“Don’t worry, I’m thinking on getting my revenge as well~” I said with tease and when he blushed madly, I chuckled and kissed him before putting letting him put the condom around his cock.

“Do you want to keep this rough? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfy”

“Babe, we’ve gone rough on sex more times before” I said smiling softly “Don’t worry, ‘kay? If I feel uncomfy, I’ll tell you”

“Alright...” he said kissing me and then, he bite softly my neck, making me moan before putting my back againts his chest. Slowly, he lined his cock with my entrance and then, I went down, moaning as I felt him filling me with his length. Piers had his back leant on the headboard of my bed, so he had things easy. He grabbed my legs with his hands and then, he started to move, first slowly but he quicky made his moves faster, hitting that special spot of mine and making me moan louder. “Do you like this, babe?”

“Y-yeah...I like it...” I said between moans as he bite my shoulder the hard enough to leave a mark but not to hurt me a lot “Don’t stop, babe...I want you to fuck me harder...”

“Then let’s rock together, babe” Piers groaned as he went even faster.

Both of us moaned and panted, and I took my chance to be busy with my clit as Piers kept fucking me. Then, both of us started to tremble, as we felt that we were near of reaching our climax. And it arrived; I reached my orgasm first and Piers kept pushing until he reached his own. We panted as we recovered our breaths and once we recovered them, I let him pull his cock out of me and then, he went to throw the condom covered in tissues to the trash bin, but when he returned to the bed, he blushed madly. “Babe? What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the strap I was holding.

“This? Remember that you heard me and Sakura speaking of this and you told me later that day that you wanted to try it?” I asked with tease as I stroked the strap with sensuality. Piers nodded and then, I made him being on the bed “Then, you’ll try it, babe~”

“This was your way to get your sweet revenge when I got mine after you denied my orgasm and then I denied yours, right?”

“Yes” I said and then, I bited his neck, leaving a mark on the place I bited him “Now, on your fours, babe”

Piers blushed even more but nodded and got on his fours as I put the strap on. It had a vibrator that would be busy with my sex as I used the strap on Piers, so both of us ended winning. Once I got the strap on, I put some lube on the fake cock and then, on Piers’ entrance. Then, I pressed the tip slowly and with care, I pushed the fake cock inside him, getting a loud and harsh groan of pleasure. Then, I switched on the vibrator and I moand when I felt it estimulating my over sensitive sex. “Can I move, PIers?” I asked softly and when he nodded, I started to move softly. PIers got his chest againts the sheets and I got my chance to grab his cock with my hand, getting more moans from him. 

“Please, babe...Fuck me harder...” he moaned and I speeded my moves, hitting his prostate with each move. To make things fair, I gave him the controller of the vibrator and he put it on a higher number, so now both of us were moaning louder; Piers due the times the fake cock hitted his prostate and me due the fast speed of the vibrator. “Fuck it...” Piers groaned as I fucked him harder. Then, we reached the climax again and he spilled his seed on my hand and on the sheets. Both of us panted, more than before, but he managed to switch off the vibrator as I managed to pull the fake cock out of him before removing the strap. Once I got the strap away, I cleaned it before being hugged by my fiancée.

“Did you...Did you like it?” I asked shyly as I finished cleaning the strap before kissing Piers’ cheek

“Y-Yeah...But let’s leave the strap for the moments you want to get your revenge if I tease you too much, ‘kay?”

“Alright...We should put something on us and cleaning this mess before going to take a shower...”

“Let me help you, babe”

We put put sleeping clothes on and with a bit of effort cause we were still panting a bit, we removed the bed sheets and put clean ones, and once we put the strap in a place that we only knewn, we picked the dirty bed sheets and put them into the washing machine before taking clean underwear and our sleeping clothes in order to get a bath. Once we filled the bathtub with water and Piers put a vanilla bathboomb on the water, we took the sleeping coats away and entered in the bathtub. Piers sat down first and I followed him, putting my back againts his chest. “Ah...I like these moments...” I said with a sigh as Piers massaged my shoulders before nuzzling me. “You’re proud of that bitemark, aren’t you?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and I’m sure you feel the same for the one you left on my neck” he replied with a soft chuckle. “Glaceon was a bit nervous while we were talking with Opal during the tea time”

“That’s true...But she quickly calmed down” I said “Maybe she heard something that put her on alert”

 “Well, now let’s get relaxed and enjoy the bath together” my fiancée said with a purr

I nodded as I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment with him. I could feel his fingers tracing the scars of my arms and shoulders, but I didn’t flinch or shiver; his touch was gently and tender. He always told me that he loved me with my scars, saying that they were the signs of all my victories againts the odds, and that made me feel more comfy with them. Then, Piers started to hum a song that made me smile, cause it reminded me to the songs my grandmother used to sing to me and after some minutes, he stopped and I blinked twice. “Raikichi? Are you alright? I heard you sobbing...”

Fuck, was I crying? I blinked again as I removed my tears before letting Piers hug me. “Sorry...It wasn’t my intention...”

“Hey, don’t worry, babe” he said gently “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I...The song reminded me the ones my maternal grandma used to sing to me...I couldn’t avoid thinking on her...”

“I’m sure she would be very happy for you, babe” Piers said smiling

“For us” I said putting my hands over his “For us, babe...”

Piers blinked confused and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m sure my grandma would be happy for you as well, babe. She knew about you for the photos I sent her before she...” I said, unable to finish the phrase. Piers kissed me and pulled my tears away.

“Don’t worry, my love” he said smiling as we exited the bathtub, and once we were out of the water, he hugged me. “I love you, Raikichi...I’ll do eveyrthing to keep you safe...”

“I love you too, Piers...And I’ll do everything to keep you safe as well...”

We spent some minutes in silence before noticing that we sound like if we were practising our marriage vowes and we couldn’t help but blush madly as we got dried and dressed. I let Piers detangle my hair and once he was done, I did the same with his hair. After that, we put the towels and the sleeping coats into the washing machine before getting clean sleeping coats and putting them over us cause weather was getting a bit cold. I yawned as I sat down in the sofa and then, when Piers sat down next to me, I cuddled next to him, making him chuckle. “Someone’s tired, right?”

“You sound tired as well”

“Point taken” he said as he turned on the TV and searched something to watch while Glaceon jumped onto the sofa and laid down next to us. Diancie, for her hand, was playing with Mimikyu and Obstagoon, who got out of his Pokeball when Piers and me exited the bathroom. “Sleep, babe. I’ll wake you up for dinner” PIers said and I nodded with a yawn before falling asleep on his arms.

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

Both Piers and me woke up when we heard something crasing againts the floor. I blinked twice before putting my glasses on and then, I saw my uncle picking up the borken pieces of the plate that fell. “Uncle Kabu?” I asked with a yawn as I put my slippers on in order to help him.

“Sorry kiddo” he said “I tried to prepare some dinner without waking you and Piers up but I think that I failed”

“Don’t worry, uncle” I said with a smile before looking the time on my Rotom Phone “Damn, how long we were sleeping?”

“Don’t worry for that, Raikichi” uncle Kabu said as he picked up the phone “Want some pizza for dinner?”

“That’s good for me” I said “Piers?”

“Good for me as well”

After dinner, Piers and me went to sleep first since we were exhausted. Uncle Kabu teased us about that, making us blush madly as we went to my room. I kicked my slippers away, removed my glasses and the sleeping coat and I lied down on the bed with a yawn before letting Piers embrace me, as I turned the small spoon. “Sleep well, babe...” he said with a yawn and together, we fell asleep.

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

The sound of explosions woke up all of us and made us ran to the garden. Corviknight was defending Diancie, that decided to sleep outside cause she wanted to stargaze with Corviknight. “Diancie, come here!” I ordered as I tried to see something through the smoke. Pieces of broken crystal were falling from the crystal ceiling that covered the garden, and I got some of them piercing a bit my feet cause I wasn’t wearing my sleepers, but in that moment, the security of my Pokemon was my priority. “Corviknight, move your wings and clear the air!”

Corviknight obeyed but then, a Toxicroak appeared and attacked us. I was quick pulling Piers away, but I ended recieving the Poison Jab on my belly, throwing me againts one of the crystal doors of the garden. The crystal broke and I feel on the living room’s floor, poisoned and bleeding.

“RAIKICHI!” Piers cried as he rushed to help me while uncle Kabu dealt with the Toxicroak with the help of his Pokemon “Babe, hey, answer me”

“I-I’m fine...” I said before vomiting 

“Damn it, that Toxicroak poisoned you...We need to take you to the hospital”

“N-No...” I replied standing up with difficult and going to the garden again, ignoring the bleeding and the poisoning

“Look at you, filthy bitch” I heard someone said and once the smoke was cleared thanks to Corviknight, we could see that the ones that were attacking us were furtives, and judging their clothes, from the same fucking group of furtives that were always causing problems “If you don’t want to be attacked again, give us that Diancie!”

“Never...” I said with a groan

“What did you say? I couldn’t hear you”

“NEVER!!” I yelled “YOU WON’T GET ANY OF OUR POKEMON, FUCKING BASTARDS”

“Raikichi, stay back. You are injured and you need medical assistance” uncle Kabu said

“They wanted war and they will have war” I groaned “Let’s fo this, Glaceon!”

“Kiddo, stay back, you-”

But I didn’t let my uncle finish cause now I was activating my Z Power Ring, ready to defeat those damn bastards again. “From the coldest and hardest blizzards, from the most beautiful winters you rise up and shows your eternal beauty, shining with the first rays of the winter sun” I said “Glaceon, use Subzero Slammer!!!”  

The Z move defeated the foe enemies, but when I tried to stop the furtives when they were running again, everything turned black.

-------------PIERS’ POV-------------------

When Raikichi fainted and fell to the ground, my world twisted as I rushed to help her. She got some blood dripping from her mouth and she started to get pale. “Kabu!! We need to take her to the hospital right now”

“She was poisoned by a Toxicroak, and Nurse Joy would be faster finding a cure for the poisoning. Also, we need to take our Pokemon to the Pokemon Center as well; they got hurted due the attack”

“She pulled me away...I...” I started to cry, trembling as I hugged Raikichi

“Hey, Piers, listen to me” Kabu said and I looked at him “We need to take her right now to the Pokemon Center”

I nodded and I picked Raikichi on my arms after both Kabu and me put our shoes on, and then, Kabu called the Pokemon to their Pokeballs, except Glaceon and Diancie, who went to our sides. It was raining but we didn’t care; Raikichi was in danger and she needed help.

We entered in the Pokemon Center and Nurse Joy quickly ordered her helpers to put my fiancée on a bed. “What happened?” she asked as they assisted Raikichi.

“A group of furtives attacked us. Raikichi was attacked by a Toxicroak that used Posion Jab” Kabu said

“She pulled me away to avoid me recieving the attack...” I added, my fists closed so tightly that my nails pierced my palms

“Don’t worry, you brought her in time. One of my helpers will guide you to the waiting room as we take care of her and of the Pokemon”

Both of us nodded and went to the waiting room. I sat down on one of the chairs, tears pouring from my eyes as Kabu tried to comfort me. “She protected you, Piers. You know she would do everything to keep you safe...”

“We’ve promised to protect each other hours ago...How the hell those furtives knew where we were?!” I said and then, I realized something. “Hours ago, when we were drinking some tea with Opal, Glaceon got nervous and hissed before calming down...Do you think that she felt the furtives near? That they were spying on us?”

“Maybe they were spying on you” Kabu said with a heavy sigh as he sat down “Now we have to wait”

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

Hours later and after being attended by the nurses that healed also the small wounds we got during the attack, Nurse Joy came to the waiting room, but her face told us that something wasn’t right. “We removed all the poison from her body and we healed the cuts she got from the crystals. She will recover in some days and she wont’t get any scars”

“But now comes the bad news” I said with a sigh

“Are you and Raikichi planning to have children?”

“Yes, we’ve talked about that. Why?”

“Well, she will be able to have children but it will be hard and difficult cause according to her medical file, this isn’t the first time she recieved a Poison Jab attack on her”

“That’s true” Kabu said “She recieved a Poison Jab attack when she was fighting againts Team Plasma in Unova, but that time she got more poisoned than this time, and after that Poison Jab, she recieved a Slash in the same place she recieved the Poison Jab”

“What that wants to mean?” I asked confused “If she can have children, then...”

“As I said, she will be able to concieve children, but since this isn’t the first time she gets poisoned by Poison Jab, that will make things more difficult. Her pregnancy will be one of very high risk, and we don’t know if that pregnancy would ve succesful” Nurse Joy said “But that is something that we will see when the moment arrives, so both you and Raikichi will have to think on the proper moment cause there is a high chance of she only being able to have one child”

“I see...” I murmured before looking at her “Can we see her?”

“Yeah, she is in her room, resting” Nurse Joy said “Once she wakes up, we’ll do few more tests and then she will be able to go back home. Of course, she weill need around a week to recover completly”

Both Kabu and me nodded and then, we followed Nurse Joy to the room where my fiancée was. She had her wounds covered by bandages and a dropper with a special serum to keep her hydrated since according to Nurse Joy, she was force to vomit to remove part of the poison as the medicine worked their way. She was pale, but not very much. Glaceon was curled next to her on the bed, and Diancie was moving from one side to another of the room.

“It’s all my fault” Kabu and me heard and confused, we noticed that it was Diancie that was speaking to us “It’s all my fault...”

“Telepathy...She’s using Telepathy to speak with us...” Kabu murmured

“Diancie, why do you say that?” I asked, still confused of hearing a Pokemon talking. Raikichi told me once that very very few Pokemon could use Telepathy to talk with her or with people they trust, and now I was hearing Diancie.

“I convinced her to let me stay more time out of my Pokeball, like Glaceon, cause I’m extremly curious...And now there are people that are after me here too..”

“But it isn’t your fault, Diancie” Kabu said “It’s clear the those furtives were spying on you and managed to located my house...”

“I’m sure that the reason of why Raikichi didn’t allow you to stay a lot of time out your Pokeball was cause she was more time alone during her journey through Kalos cause she used to work to the International Police” I said, smiling softly “But now, she isn’t alone anymore since she isn’t working for them and she can count with us to help her”

“But...”

“Listen, I know you want to explore and see more, but why you don’t stay on your Pokeball like the other Pokemon and exit from it when Raikichi feels the place safe?”

DIancie blinked but then, smiled and nodded. “You’re right” she said and then took my hands onto her small ones “Also, I noticed how your love for my trainer is really strong. You decided to protect her when she got hurted and when she needed help, you rushed at her side instead of going after the ones that attacked cause cause you really care for her, so I’m honored that you are my trainer’s mate”

“Oh...thank you” I said a bit shily 

Then, Glaceon rose her head and twitched her ears, purring when I gave her some pets. “You are really her guardian, right?” I said smiliing before sitting down next to the bed.

“I’m going back home in order to get help to remove the broken crystals and think about the terrace ceiling reparation” Kabu said “If she wakes up, call me and I’ll come to help you to brin her back home”

“Alright” I said with a yawn “Kabu?”

“Yes?”

“Sorry...I should...”

“Hey, Piers, listen to me. She protected you as you protected her the day Guzma decided to attack both you and Raikichi” he said “Both of you promised to protect each other, so don’t put the guilt over you”

I nodded after sighing and then, Kabu left the Pokemon Center. I would stay at my fiancée’s side until she woke up, so it could be soon or in few hours. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and then, I tried to find a comfy posture on the chair as I waited. I thought on what happened, on the furtives that attacked us. Then, I thought on the theories that Raikichi and me had about who were their bosses, cause the last encounters we had with them showed us that they were more prepared and had better tools to do their fucking horrible job. With another sigh, I took Raikichi’s hand with mine, stroking it as I saw how sloely the drops of the dropper fell slowly, but when I was going to close my eyes, I felt her hand moving under mine and then, I saw her eyes open slowly. “Hey...” I said gently as I stroked her cheek.

“Piers...” she said weakly as I leaned to press my forehead againts hers “What happened...I remember that we were attacked but then...Everything turned black...”

“You passed out after you performed the Z move with Glaceon, so we took you here and Nurse Joy took care of your wounds, removing also all the poisoning from your body, and luckyly, you won’t have any scars once the wounds are healed” I said, trying to think in how I was going to say the next words

“And what’s wrong with that? You hands are trembling a bit...”

“Nurse Joy said that since this is the second time you got hitted by a Poison Jab...Well, let’s say that having a child will be hard and difficult...And maybe you would be able to have only one child cause it will be a very high risk pregnancy and I can’t stop worrying about the fact that maybe that would put your life in risk and...”

“Hey, hey...” Raikichi said putting her hands on my cheeks in order to kiss me before putting her forehead againts mine “I know you’re afraid...I’m afraid too...But once that day arrives, we’ll deal with with it, ‘kay? Now...let me see that cute smile of yours...”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I smiled before kissing her again and then, I hugged her gently, cause I didn’t want to hurt her due the pain of her wounds. “I’ll call Nurse Joy. She will make some medical tests in order to see if you’re able to go back home”

“That’s sounds nice...” she said stroking Glaceon and Diancie “It looks that they have been healed as well. I was worried about them getting hurt with the crystals that fall from the ceiling...”

“Glaceon, Diancie and Corviknight are completly healed, as well as hour Pokemon that fought while we protected you when you passed out” I said smiling as I pressed the button to call Nurse Joy

“That’s good...Where’s my uncle?”

“He went back home in order to ask for help to retire the broken crystal fragments from the floor and then, he will call to repair the ceiling” I said and then, Nurse Joy entered the room “I’ll call your uncle to tell him that you are awake”

Raikichi nodded and I exited the room while Nurse Joy attended her. I called Kabu and told him the good news, and I smiled when I heard him replying excited and happy for the good news. After talking with him, I hanged the call and went to the room where Raikichi was, sitting on the edge of bed. “Time to go back home?” I asked 

“Yeah” she said smiling softly as Nurse Joy gave her some papers with the things she had to do to recover, including the soft food she had to eat for two days and then, the medicines she had to have all the week, together with the daily healing of the wounds “That’s my uncle’s coat, right?”

“Yeah, he left it for you. It’s cold outside” I replied helping her to put the big black coat on her and then, I tried to pick Raikichi on my arms, but the wounds that I had on my arms hurted, and my fiancée wouldn’t want me to suffer cause her, so I called Obstagoon out of his Pokeball and then, he picked Raikichi up with care. “Sorry babe, I wanted to pick you up” I said to my fianée as I stroked her hand.

“Don’t worry, babe” Raikichi replied with a smile as we exited the Pokemon Center “You are wounded too”

“Piers told me that maybe I should stay a bit more on my Pokeball, like the other Pokemon you have” Diancie said only to me and Raikichi using Telepathy

“That’s good...I should have been more careful...Specially when Glaceon noticed that something wasn’t right when we were in Ballonlea...” Raikichi said with a sigh before yawning

“Don’t say that, babe...We didn’t know that the furtives were spying on us, but now we will be more careful”

My fiancée nodded and then, we reached Kabu’s home. We entered and once I closed the door behind us, Archer, the male Indeedee that Kabu had at home, greeted us. With care, I picked Raikichi on my arms and Archer used Psychic to remove gently the big black coat that covered Raikichi and then, he guided me to Raikichi’s room as Araminta, the female Indeedee and partner of Archer, took care of the young Mimikyu that wasn’t anymore a baby but still need care. Mimikyu tried to jump onto Raikichi arms, but Araminta stopped her.

“Araminta is telling Mimikyu that she has to wait and that she will take of her while I’m recovering...” Raikichi said with another yawn as I put her down on the bed. Then, I helped her to change her sleeping clothes, stained with blood, and put on her clean sleeping clothes. “Piers...” she said yawning again as I made her lay down and covered her with the blankets

“Yes, babe?” I said with a yawn, feeling the tireness getting over my body as well

“I love you...” she murmured with another yawn. I smiled and then, Kabu entered the room with the medicine she had to take. At first, Raikichi refused, but the mine and Kabu’s concerned look convinced her. After taking the disgusting medicine, my fiancée yawned again and quickly fell asleep.

“I’m going to sleep and at the morning, I’ll call for help to remove the crystals from the garden. This night, Corviknight will sleep on her Pokeball, at least until we removed all the crystals” Kabu said “You should sleep too, Piers”

I nodded and then, I yawned again, laying down next to my fiancée and quickly falling asleep.

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

Morning arrived with the sound of people working at the garden. I groaned as I stood up, smiling softly when I saw Raikichi sleeping pacefully. She spent all the night sleeping, and if things went right, she could sleep more hours. She really needed to sleep. With a yawn, I pulled my hair into a simple ponytail as I got my sleepers on and then, I put my sleeping coat over me. Glaceon yawned as well and purred when I stroked her fur before following me. To my surprise, Diancie was in the living room, with Mimikyu, Araminta, Archer and also, mine and Kabu’s Pokemon. But then, my sleepy eyes opened when I noticed a shine that came from Diancie’s little hands.

“Here, for you, I made also one for Raikichi”

“What are-Wait, diamonds?” I asked as I took two pink purplish diamonds on my hands. Raikichi told me that Diancie used a lot of energy when she wanted to create a diamond that didn’t dissapear, and I was looking at two diamonds that had taken a lot of energy from Diancie “Why? You didn’t have to do this, Diancie”

“But I wanted to give you and my trainer a special gift. I made them heart shaped cause it’s a symbol of the strong and deep love that is between you two”

I blinked but then, smiled and nodded. “Then, take your deserve rest, Diancie. Thank you so much. I’ll put them on a box and when Raikichi wakes up, I’ll show them to her”

Diancie nodded and went to the small coach that was next to the big one to take a nap as I put the diamonds on a box in Raikichi’s room. She was still sleeping, so once I put the diamonds into a safe place, I went to the living room, with my Rotom Phone flying around me. With a heavy sigh, I told my phone to mark the number of someone that I kept distrusting a bit, but I needed her help. Those furtives were more experienced than the ones we confronted before, and in order to know who were the ones that gave orders to them, I needed to contact her. While Raikichi slept, I waited for the other person to answer my call, and when I was near of hanging out, I heard her.

“Hello? Piers, you know what time is it?”

“It’s 8 am, and I need your help”

“Uh-oh, I don’t like the tone of your voice” Sakura said with a soft yawn before clearing her throat, and then, I could hear her Persian purring through the other side of the line “What happened?”

“The same group of furtives, but this time, they attack us in Kabu’s house” I said in low voice cause Kabu was now sleeping and I didn’t want to wake up neither him or Raikichi “They spyed on us and discovered where we were, and they attacked us destroying part of the crystal ceiling that covered the garden. Also, Raikichi got serious injured when she pulled me away from a Toxicroak that attacked us, and she ended recieving a Poison Jab directly to her belly...Those furtives looked more prepared than the ones we confronted before”

“And why they attacked you at Kabu’s home”

“They wanted Diancie”

There was a silence, then, Sakura sighed heavily. “If they managed to do all those things in order to get Diancie, they’re really prepared”

“That’s why I’m calling you” I said “I need you to investigate who do they work for”

“Do you have any suspects?”

“Yes...And Raikichi too...We think that maybe they work for Macrocosmos but we’re not sure”

“So you want me to investigate before going to Rose in order to ask him what’s going onl, right?”

“Yes”

“You’re lucky then” Sakura said “My father want’s those furtives out, of course, but for reasons that I can’t tell you. I will start to investigate after I wake up once I sleep I bit more”

“I’ll send you some photos of the place” I replied with a yawn “Raikichi needs to rest and in few hours, there will be a group here cleaning the crystals and planning the repairing of the ceiling”

“Alright, I’ll see the photos later”

Then, she hanged out the call and I sighed. I yawned again and while I ordered my Rotom Phone to take photos of the garden and send them to Sakura, I stretched a bit and then, I stroke Obstagoon’s fur, who had woken up as well. “Morning, buddy” I said as I smiled before jumping a bit startled when Corviknight got our of her Pokeball, letting out a shy chirp; she clearly wanted to be on her nest. I stroked her feathers, comforting her. “Don’t worry, Corviknight, once the crystals are removed, you’ll be able to return to your nest”

In that moment, Archer went to the garden and called my attention, guiding me and Obstagoon to Raikichi’s room. When I entered, I understood why Archer was nervous; my fiancée was trembling and shivering and judging to her facial expression, she was holding her gains of vomiting due the nausea. Her body, despite of not having poison anymore, was still suffering the pain of the attack, and that mean nausea and vomits. As Archer brought the medicine, I rushed at her side, weeping soflty the hair of her sweating forehead. “Hey...” I murmured, stroking her cheek.

“I feel like shit...” she said and I cracked a soft smile “How much did I sleep?”

“All the night after you take your medicine” I replied and then, I helped her to sit down a bit in order to give her the soft and warm cream made with soft berries that Archer brought together with the medicine “This will be your food for these two days, of course, with different ingredients”

“So...This will be my breakfast for two days, right?”

I nodded and she sighed heavily, but she did her best to eat the cream by her own. Of course, it wasn’t a full plate cause we were afraid of her vomiting if she ate a big ration, but slowly, she filled her stomach with the warm cream. Then, I gave her the medicines. At first, Raikichi fussed a bit, and that reminded me when Marnie was a little child and fussed when she had to take her medicines when she was sick, so I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Please babe, I know it tastes bad, but you have to take them”

“I know, I know” she said with a sigh and then, she took the medicines, drinking a bit of water when she gagged a bit “Better?”

She nodded and then, I helped her to lay down again. She needed to recover, and when she yawned, I couldn’t help but smile when she pouted. “I don’t want to be useless...I’m feeling very useless right now...”

“Raikichi, my beloved, my Queen” I said laying down next to her in order to hug her careful “You protected me, you saved me...And now it’s my turn to take care of you. Don’t say that you’re useless cause you aren’t. I know that before meeting me you used to be lonenly, but you aren’t alone anymore. I’m here, your uncle Kabu is also here, even our friends, so please, stop saying that”

“It’s easy to say, you know, but-”

“You told me once to stop calling myself useless because what was going on in Spikemuth, remember?”

“Yes, but-”

“But nothing” I interrupted her, putting a finger on his lips and then, I retired it in order to kiss her “Now rest. You need it. I’m going to have some breakfast and see if I can help your uncle before the reparation group arrives”

“Alright...” she said with a yawn and when she closed her eyes, I kissed her forehead, leaving Glaceon watching over her. Glaceon had just finished eating her breakfast, and now she was ready to guard her trainer, as the loyal Pokemon she was.

I went to the kitchen in order to prepare some breakfast as Kabu went to open the door cause the people he asked for help arrived. He guided them to the garden and after telling them what to do, they started to work. I prepared two cups of coffee, and when Kabu returned inside, I gave his cup full of coffee. “Here, I’m sure you didn’t have breakfast”

“Yeah, thanks” he said, taking the cup and giving a long sip to it “Luckyly, it won’t take us a lot to take all the crystals away, but the thing is the ceiling. The damage is very serious and I’m afraid I had to change all of it”

“You’re worried of having a two meters tall steel bird trying to get to her nest?”

Kabu nodded and I couldn’t help but chuckle, but he was right; we didn’t want Corviknight to get hurted with the crystals. We took breakfast as the workes retired the broken crystals and once we ate breakfast, I returned to Raikichi’s room, only to find her having a bad dream. I rushed quickly to her side and I shook her gently and when she opened her eyes and smiled when she saw me, I smiled as well. “Bad dream?”

“Kind of...” she said and yawned “What time is it?”

“Well, I was going to help Kabu with the garden, but since you’re awake, I think is time for you to take a bath and then, I’ll take care of your wounds”

“That sounds good...I want to move a bit” my fiancée said and then, I removed the blankets that she had over her and carefully, I picked her on my arms. Glaceon and Archer followed me closed. “Archer, please, could you pick the first aid kit, please” Raikichi asked and Archer nodded. The male Indeedee used Pyschic to pick the first aid kit and then, as I put Raikichi on the stool that was on the bathroom and then, I helped her to get naked and once she was naked, I removed careful the bandages. The cuts, brushes and dark marks on her skin weren’t very serious, but that reminded me the talk I had with her about her giving everything to protect people and Pokemon. Then, I picked her up and once the bathtub was filled with water, I put her slowly in it before getting myself naked and sitting behind her, her back againts my chest. Slowly, I started to wash her hair and then, her body, being careful of not hurt the hurted places.

“Piers?” she asked after I removed all the shampoo from her

“Yes, babe?”

“Thanks...For everything”

“You don’t have to thank me anything, babe” I said kissing her neck “We’ve promised to take care of each other, right?”

She nodded and then, after I got bathed as well, I exited the bathtub and once I got a bathrobe on me, I picked her up, helping her to dry herself and then, I attended her wounds with the help of Archer. After attending her wounds and putting clean bandages on them, I helped my fiancée to get dressed and then, I put her hair onto a ponytail and gave her glasses that she quickly put on her. I closed the first aid kid and I got dried and dressed as well before picking Raikichi again and exiting the bathroom, followed by the male Indeedee, bur then, we heard a voice. The voice of someone both me and Raikichi didn’t like, and I could feel my fiancée getting very tense in my arms. Holy shit Arceus, this wasn’t going to end well.

----------------RAIKICHI’S POV---------------

Piers was holding me on his arms once we exited the bathroom. He was injured as well, but he wouldn’t let me to walk by my own feet until the wounds of my feet healed completly. We were going to my room when we heard his voice. He was here, the man that both my fiancée and me hated a lot. My eyes locked at Chairmain Rose when both me and Piers saw him speaking with my uncle and Glaceon was doing a great effort trying not to attack Rose. My body tensed too much, and that made my wounds hurted even more. My fiancée noticed that and tried to take me to my room, but then, Rose called us; but Glaceon was quick and she put herself between him and us, allowing Piers to put me on my bed.

“What is he doing here?” I asked once I was on my bed and Piers closed the door “What the fuck is he doing here?”

“I don’t know, but if you don’t want to speak with him...” Piers started to say when we heard a knock in the door “Fuck”

“Don’t worry, babe” I said smiling softly before looking to the male Indeedee “Archer, open the door, please”

The male Indeedee nodded and used Psychic to open my room’s door and letting Rose to enter. “Sorry, Raikichi, I didn’t want to disturb” the Chairman said entering my room “I came as soon as possible when I knew that you, Kabu and Piers got attacked”

“I see...” I said and then, I looked at my fiancée, who got even more tense than me “Please, Archer, take Piers to the living room and give him some tea”

“But-” Piers tried to say 

“Don’t worry, Piers” I replied wirh a smile and then, he nodded and followed Archer to the living room, closing the door behind him. Then, my face got serious and I looked at Rose “Chairman Rose, I’m thankful that you’ve came to see how me and my family are, but know I want to know the other reasons of your visit. Please, take a seat. You’re a guest, afterall. Araminta, please”

Araminta, the female Indeedee, nodded and using Psychic, she moved a chair next to my bed but not bery near, and told Rose with gestures to take a seat on it. “Thank you” Rose said sitting on the chair and then, he looked at me, and I could swear that I saw him shivering a bit when he noticed my serious gaze on him.

“Well?” I said, raising an eyebrow as I stroked Glaceon’s fur when she laid down next to me on the bed

“When I was told that you, Kabu and Piers got attacked, I came here quickly to check on you” he said “And also, I came cause I want to offer my help to find the responsibles of the attack”

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me that NOW you want to help us to find the furtives after ALL THE TIMES I sent you messages asking you for help when I was dealing with the furtives?”

“Well, I...”

“Do I have to remember you that I also called you for help when the group of furtives attacked people and Pokemon multiple times?”

“Yes, but...”

“YOU EVEN REJECTED MY CALLS FOR HELP WHEN THEY WERE ATTACKING THE WILD AREA PROVOKING FIRES TO SCARE AND EVEN KILL POKEMON?!”

Glaceon meowed and licked my hand, that was now closed into a fist. I took a deep breath as I stroked more Glaceon’s fur, calming me down as Araminta used Aromatherapy to calm me down, and then, I sighed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t lost my temper that easily while I’m recovering...But the thing is, that you didn’t help me...Not, not only me...You didn’t help us when we asked you for it, and now, you came here to offer your help after me, my fiancée and my uncle got attacked, and I got wounded...There is when you decided to help us...”

“I’m a busy man, it’s normal that I couldn’t attend your messages” Rose tried to explain himself, but I couldn’t believe him.

“I’m going to speak now as the World Champion I am, Chairman Rose” I said, my tone turning more serious and cold “I reject your help offer. You didn’t help us when we needed help and now I’m not going to allow you to help us cause it looks like you waited until we got attacked and wounded to offer your help”

“But...”

“No buts” I interrupted him “Neither me or my fiancée or my uncle won’t want your help. Now, if you please, Araminta will open the door for you of my room and Archer will acompain you to the main door. Good afternoon, Chairman”

“Good afternoon, World Champion” he finally said after some minutes in silence. He stood up and when Aramina pulled away the chair with Psychic, she opened the door using the same move. Before he exited the room, Rose looked at me once more “I hope you’ll recover very well”

“Thanks for those words, Chairman. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to rest”

Rose nodded and left my room, and then I let out a heavy sigh as I got relaxed. Araminta looked at me worried as Glaceon licked my hand again in order to calm me down. Then, Piers entered in my room, followed by Obstagoon and Archer. The male Indeedee had on his paws a cup of warm tea that my fiancée picked up and gave it to me. “Here, drink this” he said

I nodded and I started to drink the warm drink, calming down slowly. “Sorry, Chairman Rose got me on my nerves”

“I heard it...Sorry for not being at your side...”

“Don’t worry” I said smiling softly “I told you to go to the living room cause I know that you get very tense and nervous when Rose is near”

Piers kissed my cheek as he sat down next to me while I drunk the tea. “Your uncle said that in few more days, the ceiling of the terrace will be repaired”

“That’s good to hear...”

“And I have something to show you”

I blinked twice as Piers stood up and picked a box that was on the dresser. Glaceon and Diancie shared a look before giggling while my fiancée came back to bed and took the empty cup from my hands and putting the box on them. Piers nodded and I opened the box, gasping when I saw two perfect light pink diamonds. “And this?”

“Diancie made them” Piers said

“Is my gift for you both that represents the deep bond and love that both of you share” Diancie said with Telepathy

“By Arceus...You made two perfect diamonds...You didn’t need to do them, Diancie”

“But I wanted to do them”

I hugged Diancie and then, Glaceon licked my face, making me laugh as Piers put the two diamonds back to the box. Then, I yawned and I laid down again, ready to drift on my sleep once more.

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

Days passed and I started to recover pretty well. During the week I spent recovering, Gordie visited me and accpeted my request of doing some adornment with the diamonds that Diancie made, cause I wanted those adornments for me and Piers to wear them at our wedding. Those diamonds were special cause Diancie put a lot a lot of effort on them, and gifted me and Piers with them cause she was proud of us finding love in each other, so wearing them in our wedding would be very special. Then, Sakura came to visit me as well after saying that we were going to review some wedding dresses despite telling her what dress I wanted, but when I saw her with more than a hundred dresses, I was without words. I told her to bring the one I liked and only few more, NOT AN ENTIRE ARMY OF WEDDING DRESSES!! With a sigh, and as we take some special cherry blossom tea I got from my parents, we spent that day reviewing the dresses as our Pokemon played together.

A week lafter we got attacked, I was full recovered, but my uncle and Piers decided to make me stay at home few days more only to make sure that I was really full recovered. As Nurse Joy said, I didn’t get any scars, and that was good; I had enough with the ones I had. Once they saw that I was recovered, I was able to return to my normal rutine. Piers had to go to Spikemuth to train cause the challengers were now on Ballonlea and their next location was Circhester, so he had to be prepared. Uncle Kabu had more free time since he didn’t have to deal with more challengers, and I got finally a meeting with Sonia in Stow-On-Side in order to investigate the mural, and for that, Diancie would help us with her powers. I took a Flying Taxi and went to the small town. 

I was near of landing when my Rotom Phone started to vibrate and when I replied the call, I heard Sonia but she was very nervous. “Sonia, hey, calm down” I said as I exited the Flying Taxi once it landed, followed by Glaceon and then, I let Diancie get out of her Pokeball. 

“I CAN’T RELAX RIGHT NOW! YOU HAVE TO COME RIGHT NOW HERE!” she yelled through the the other place of the line

“Alright! I’m moving!”

I hanged the call and followed by Glaceon and Diancie, I went running to the place Sonia was waiting for me. There, Sonia was trying to stop a Copperajah that was trying to destroy the mural, and then, next to the big Copperdem Pokemon was Bede, and it looked that he was ordering Copperajah. I quick put myself between them and the mural, with Glaceon and Diancie at my side, and Sonia behind us. “Stop this right now, Bede!!” I yelled

“Chairman Rose ordered me to get more Wishing Stars for him and there are some of them behidn the mural”

“I won’t allow you to destroy the mural!” I said 

“You won’t stop me, I have to do this for Chairman Rose!” Bede said, angry “Copperajah, use Iron Head!”

“Glaceon, Diancie, use both Protect!”

Copperajah hit the barrier created by Glaceon and Diancie when they used Protect, making the Copperdem Pokemon to give some steps back. Bede ordered Copperajah to attack again, but Glaceon and Diancie used Protect again. I didn’t want to keep battling cause I didn’t want to damage the mural, but Bede was sending the Pokemon again and again, and then, Copperajah charged so quickly that I ordered my Pokemon to dodge it cause I didn’t have enough time to react, and then, I had to throw myself to one side in order to avoid being hitted by Copperajah, and then, the Pokemon hitted so hard the mural that it broke and a big dust cloud was created as the fragments of the mural fell to the ground. 

“Raikichi!” Sonia said running and coughing to help me once she amnaged to find me in the middle of the dust cloud “Are you alright?”

“Yeah...Fuck it, I should have thought more quickly and stop that attack...” I replied with a cough as I stood up slowly “Glaceon? Diancie?” I said and then, my Pokemon found me and I sighed in relief when I saw that they were alright. Then, the dust cloud disappeared and both Sonia and me saw Bede searching Wishing Stars. The mural was destroyed, but then, something made me calling Sonia’s attention and see what was behind the mural. “Sonia, look at that...”

“Is that...”

“A hidden chamber...With a statue...Oh my, by Arceus, I was right! I was all this time right!!”

But before I could say something more, Chairman Rose and Oleana appeared. Rose called Copperajah back to her Pokeball in front of a stunned Bede, who didn’t expect to see Rose and Oleana there. “Bede, look what you have done” Rose said and those words made me want to punch him when I understood what was going on, but Sonia stopped me when she grabbed my arm. She didn’t want me to be on a useless fight. “I knew you had potential, Bede, and I trusted you but this...Destroying something with a high value for the history of Galar...” Rose continued, and I had to keep myself down as I realized that in fact, he was only manipulating Bede and now he was leaving him alone, like a child that threw away to the trash a doll when it gets tired of it. 

“But you’ve told to collect Wishing Tales! And you told me to do eveyrhting to get those Wishing Stars!” Bede said, trying to defense himself

“I’m sorry, but you have dissapointed me, Bede. I disqualify you from the Gym Challenge”

“Now give me the Wishing Stars you’ve gathered” Oleana said with a tone that I didn’t like before looking at me “You filthy Champion, I’m sure you have something related to the mual destruction! You are as guilty as Bede”

“Close your fucking motuh, bitch” I growled, tired of her “I was trying to stop him of destroying the mural”

“Liar!”

“Enough, Oleana” Rose said “Stop acussing her for something that she didn’t do”

“Then how do you explain that-”

“Raikichi is innocent” Sonia said “She was trying to protect the mural”

Oleana was going to say something but she decided to shut up when she saw that she was acussing me in false. Then, Rose and her filthy assistant left the place, leaving a heart broken and stunned Bede, who was trying to be conforted by his Hattrem, without success. I knew that Bede was an orphan that didn’t have any relatives and had problems when he was in the orphanage, and when Rose got interested on him, Bede thought on Rose like the paternal figure he didn’t have. Of course, that wasn’t enough to justify his behavior, and when Rose saw the loyalty that Bede had for him, he didn’t stop feeding Bede’s ego until everything went bad in this moment. I tried to call Bede but he left the place with his Pokemon. I let out a heavy sigh as I approached the statues that were behind the mural, with Glaceon and Diancie at my side. 

“Raikichi...” Sonia said as I prepared the things to examinate the statues

“I’m fine...Is just...Chairman Rose is a filthy bastard. Now I know that he didn’t care about Bede. He was only using him for something that I don’t know yet, but I swear I will discover it, for Arceus sake”

“Please, Rose is a very powerful man, Raikichi” Sonia said “I know is unfair, but being in problems with him...”

“Sonia, listen. I’m the World Champion and he doesn’t have any power over me, and if he or Oleana try to hurt me, my family and my friends, they will pay for it” I said as I finished the preparations “Now, let’s see what we have here...Look, there are something written there...Rotom, please, take photos and videos in high quality”

My Rotom Phone flew around and started to take photos and videos as I asked it to do it as Diancie used her powers to determinate the afe of the statue, and when she finished, she quickly ran to me and told me what she had discovered. I used my computer after taking some samples and using a special tech I had to analyze samples, I confirmed what Diancie told me. “Sonia?”

“Yes?”

“Look at this...Diancie used her powers to confirm the age of the statue hidden behind the mural, and she discovered that in fact, the statued of the two kings and those two Pokemon is older, a lot older than the mural”

“And did you manage to confirm it?” she asked

“Yes...Look” I told her showing her the results “Here is my theory. Someone was so envious about the fame of the two heroes that saved Galar that decided to erase EVERYTHING of their history and replacing with their own. I was right since the very first moment when I started to find different versions of the story and the ones that said that there were two heroes were older than the ones that said that there was only one” I said standing up, with my eyes on the statue “There were two heroes that seeing that they couldn’t stop the Darkest Day by their own, called for aid and help, and then, these two Pokemon, that according to the very few letters I could see that are intact, they were refered as the Cyan and the Magenta. The Cyan held a sword, and the Magenta a shield, and together, they went to help the two heroes to stop the Darkest Day”

“Whoa...So...All the investigation I did means nothing” Sonia said with a sigh

“Don’t think that, Sonia. Thanks to you we know that the story that all people in Galar knew is the result of the manipulation that someone did to hide the truth” I said smiling softly and then, Glaceon meowed, pointing at something that was covered by some debris. There was like a figure engraved in the stone, with insciptions, but this last thing was very damaged and I wasn’t sure I would be able to read them, but my Rotom Phone took photos despite of this. The figure looked like a Pokemon that was pointing at the Cyan and the Magenta. Also, the strange figure was mounting another figure. A Pokemon using another Pokemon as mount? That was weird. After my Rotom Phone took enough photos and videos, I stood up again and stretched; then, I picked up my things before sending a message to my uncle. “Well, I think we’ve finished here...I feel sorry for the mural, but now that we know that it was made to hide the truth, I think is better having it out of our sight”

“Yeah, I think that too...I should go back and tell my grandmother what we’ve discovered here today” Sonia said and then, she smiled “Thanks for coming, really”

“Don’t worry” I replied and then, I returned Diancie to her Pokeball after I put all my things in my bag before going to a Flying Taxi stop with her. Then, I entered in the cabin after saying good bye to Sonia. 

I arrived at Mototoske after an hour and with Glaceon, I entered in my uncle’s home. He was there, preparing some lunch and he greeted me when he heard me enter. “Hey kiddo” he said “I hope you don’t mind that we have a guest”

“Guest?” I said and after leaving my things in my room, I went to the garden and found Leon there, with his Charizard “Leon? What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, well, I needed to talk with you about my brother?” he said as I sat down next to him

“About Hop? Is something wrong with him?”

“Well...These days he has been acting weird after loosing that balle againts Bede and he doesn’t want to talk with me about that”

“Hop has you in a pedestal, Leon and wants to be like you. Maybe that defeat has made him think that he isn’t doing enough and well, loosing againts Bede can make things worst due Bede’s behaviour...Listen, Leon, why you don’t talk with him?”

“I tried but he keeps avoiding the topic” he said with a sigh

“Then try again. But don’t go very fast, just give him time. Loosing a battle is hard, but for Hop, is even harder since he lost it againts Bede, so give him so time”

“I’ll do it” Leon said standing up very quickly and mounting on Charizard “Thank you, Raikichi. Now, if you excuse me, I have to find my brother. See you another day!”

And then, he flew away mounted on his Charizard. Uncle Kabu went to the garden and shook his head, smiling softly. “Both Leon and Hop are full of energy and can’t stay in the same place for a long time”

“Yeah, you’re right” I said and then, I stood up and went to help my uncle with the lunch as I told him about my discoveries. Then, I told him I was going to spent some days in Spikemuth with Piers cause the Challengers were near of arriving at Spikemuth, that was the next stop after Ballonlea and Circhester, and I wanted to help Piers and his Pokemon trainers with their training. My uncle was agreed with that, cause that would give him more time to finish the reparations of the terrace ceiling. It was almost complete, and with few days more, it would be full repaired.

That night, after dinner, I called Piers as I prepared myself to go to bed after taking a warm bath. My fiancée replied quickly the call and when I turned the video on, I saw that he was also preparing for going to sleep, his torso naked and his black and white hair falling as a cascade. “Hey, babe” I said witih a smile “Did I call you just when you finished having a shower?”

“That was a good timing” he said and both of us chuckled “You look tired, Raikichi. Is something wrong, love?”

“No, nothing is wrong. Is just I’ve made a great discover today with Sonia and I could confirm the theory I had about the truth about the Galarian history”

“Really? That’s good!”

“Do you want me to tell you once I arrive to Spikemuth?”

“Of course, love. You know I love when you share with me your discoveries and I love learning new things with you”

“Then I hope you’ll prepare some snacks cause is a really big discovery” I said and then, I yawned, making Piers chuckle “Sorry...”

“Don’t be sorry, babe. You’re tired. I’ll see you tomorrow then, love” he said smiling softly “Good night, and sleep well, my Queen...I love you”

“I love you too, my King”

Then, I hanged out the call and after removing my glasses and slipping under the sheets, I quickly fell asleep.

[ofheroesandvillains]

Reality - Bucky Barnes

Bucky x reader (third person POV) Words: 2.3k Warnings: None, some violence in one nightmare but it’s not graphic. Summary: If he keeps her at arms length then he can’t hurt her. But is it worth hurting himself?

Gosh, it has been a hot minute. I’ve been insanely busy but that’s no excuse. I’ve missed writing so much but it’s been a while so I just whipped this up to get back into the swing of things - I didn’t want to butcher a request with bad writing but I promise I’m working on them. Thank you for your patience, lovely readers, and please let me know what you think! I don't usually dedicate things, but this one is for @softhairbarnes​ who always manages to motivate me with sweet comments - you’re a gem!

(Not my gif!)

Sometimes when he closed his eyes at night he would see ghosts. A blur of faces, each a distinct reminder that would haunt him into consciousness. Other times he’d feel the wind whipping around him, a distant shout his only companion as fell, and fell, and fell. He always woke up before he could find out what waited for him at the bottom, but he knew it was nothing good.

Bucky had come to terms with his past; knew there was no undoing what had already been done, but it didn’t make sleeping any easier. He didn’t mind, he thought, when the waking world held so much more for him.

Even on nights like these, when sleep was a stranger that wanted nothing to do with him, he couldn’t be all that mad.  He’d get up, walk around, drink some water, then when he finally bored himself to the point of exhaustion, he’d try it again. But tonight things were different.

Tonight his senses alerted him to an anomaly. A disturbance in his usual routine that could not go ignored. He just wasn’t capable…

He’d seen shots like this in movies - Hollywood starlets bathed in the glow of pale moonlight. There was something mystical about it, something beautiful and sacred in the curve of her brow and the slope of her nose, illuminated, yet casting a shadow over the rest of her features. He could lose himself in moments like these, fingers itching to reach out and touch like a connoisseur entranced by the finest of paintings. But there was a reason art was meant to be seen and not touched.

Even the slightest of brushes, a mere stroke of a fingertip, and the picture would never be the same. To disturb her now would be sacrilege. It would shatter the illusion - the daydream he allowed himself to have. Now, as she lay curled up on the couch of the living room, blanketed only by the gleam of the moon, he could pretend that she wasn’t just a friend. If he really wanted to, he could entertain the idea of something more, the same idea he’d dismissed a thousand times before.

But that was not his reality, not yet. And she was just another apparition sent to toy with his mind. Another desire that was just out of reach.

---------

For the third time in as many weeks, Sam was left wondering just how his stores had dropped so low…and then he remembered that he lived with a team of termites.

When Bucky finally arrived for breakfast, bleary-eyed and wearing nothing but his old sweats, it was to the sound of her laughter and the sight of an impressive glower on Sam’s part. The two of them could shoot snappy wisecracks at each other for days if left unsupervised. And much like he did in that moment, he’d just sit back and watch the show.  

“Girl, you keep eating my snacks and I’m gonna snap one day. I’m serious, it’s gonna get ugly.”

She shot Sam a grin, too wide to be innocent, and shuffled over to Bucky with a plate of bacon and eggs in hand.

“You’re a saint, doll.” He thanked with a sleepy little smile.

“Please,” Sam scoffed. “Saints don’t steal from the less fortunate,” he grumbled, shaking an empty box of his favourite cereal for good measure.

“Hey, you automatically lose sole custody of any food left in the shared space. Right, Buck?”

Not many things could get between a hungry super-soldier and a meal, but the moment he felt her arms wind around his bare shoulders, food was the last thing on his mind. It was platonic, she hugged everyone. But the feel of her hands on his chest and her cheek against his temple never failed to make his heart race.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s right,” he said around a mouthful.

Sam scoffed with a roll of his eyes. He shouldn’t have expected any less - he could see the subtle way Bucky leaned back into her embrace from a mile away, all self-satisfied and proud. Like a damn cat, he thought.

---------

“Still haven’t told her?”

Though the whisper was familiar, it was also jarring. He’d been too lost in the moment to even realise he was no longer a lone admirer, and he felt a strange sense of loss at the thought. Why now? Why this moment?

“Nothin’ to tell. Nothin’ she’d want to hear anyway…” He cringed at the roughness of his own voice, and again when he heard Sam move beside him with a sigh.

“She thinks you’re avoiding her, you know?” said Sam. Knows. She knows, would have been more appropriate, and they both knew it - it had already been a week, after all. “She doesn’t understand.”

As if sensing she was the topic of discussion, she frowned. Bucky frowned with her. The daydream slipped through his fingers.

“I just…I’ve been busy.”

The excuse was weak, even to his own ears. Sam’s hand came up to grip his shoulder, reassuring as ever. But Bucky found it did nothing to ease his mind this time.

If he’d torn his eyes away from her for even a moment, he would have noticed the way Sam’s eyes softened. “What are you so scared of, man?”

---------

The dream he’d had that one night was so realistic, so painfully vivid.

“You ever think about what things would have been like if you went back with Steve?”

He had thought about it once, but the past no longer had a place for him. He hadn’t been Bucky Barnes since he’d fallen from that train. There was nothing left for him there, when so much he needed remained here.

“Not really, no.”

She turned to him then, her head propped on her fist as she lay on her side. If he sat up, he could kiss her. How many times had that been the case? How many times had they lain on his very bed just like this and talked long past dawn?

“Yeah?”

Bucky smiled.

“You sound surprised.”

She shrugged, fingers reaching out to gently comb through his hair. A shiver ran down his spine at her touch.

“I am, I guess. I just thought that maybe you’d like it better back there…it being more familiar and all, ya know?”

She looked away then, a sad glint in her eye that she was too late to hide. Callused fingers slipped around her wrist with a tenderness foreign to them, and he stroked the erratic pulse that hammered away beneath her skin. It wasn’t just him, he realised, she felt it too. But then again, wasn’t that the nature of dreams, to give you something you could never have anywhere else?

“I like it just fine right where I am. In fact,” he turned to face her with a confidence that no longer belonged to him. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”  

The distance between them was quick to disappear, and when his lips finally met hers he wondered just why he hadn’t allowed himself to indulge in the waking world. Surely something so right couldn’t be a bad thing.

Her hands were knotted in his hair, body flush against his when she rolled onto her back, and Bucky felt himself slipping away. She did this to him, made him forget who he was, where he was. She took his damn breath away. 

The sharp tug at his hair was unintentional, but it made him remember all the wrong things.

He was thrown out of the moment, a spectator instead of a participant. His hands were no longer his to control, but he could feel her skin against cool metal as it slithered its way to her throat. It was as soft as the rest of her and he screamed. It shouldn’t have been there, people got hurt in positions like this. His fingers tightened and he felt his heart break.

He felt her arms flail, her nails claw at his skin, but his hand was a vice - snuffing out every last inch of goodness and happiness that remained in his life. When she stilled in his hold he knew there was nothing left for him in this world either. The voice that screamed in the back of his mind, begging for mercy, all desperation and panic, was finally silenced and he came back just in time to witness the aftermath of his love.

When he could, he’d wake with a start. He’d shake himself out of his greatest nightmare and creep to her room on shaky legs, with sweat-drenched clothes and a racing heart. It was only when he saw her, his to watch over but not to touch - never to touch, if he could help it - that he’d sag against the doorway and remind himself.

Never, you would never hurt her. Not here. Not ever.

---------

They both saw her shiver. It was almost winter and the blanket Sam usually kept tucked over the armrest for movie nights was nowhere to be found.

“We should probably move her to her room.”

Bucky nodded along absentmindedly.

“Well, I’ll leave that to you. Goodnight, Buck.”

Bucky’s shoulders grew rigid and he gave Sam a startled look. “What? Why do I have to-“

“Hey man, only one of us has super-strength, and it ain’t me.” Sam shot him a pointed look, and without another word, he left Bucky to his thoughts.

Coward, was the first one to race through Bucky’s mind, but that was a lie. Good friend, begrudgingly followed and he knew Sam was trying to give him the nudge he needed to finally make a move.

One week. One week to think, to deny feelings, to come to terms with them again, to begin the cycle all over again.

One week to decide. Was it enough time? If he had it his way, it never would be. But she was waiting for him just as he had always been waiting for her.

He didn’t notice his feet move until he was looming over her. His throat felt suddenly dry and he was glad she wasn’t awake to see him nervously gulp like an anxious teenager about to experience his first kiss.

His arms slipped under her before he could talk himself out of it. He could have just brought her a blanket, he thought, but it was too late for that. She had already nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck, and nothing save another world war would get him to part from her now.

Her room was down the hall from his own. The door, shut when Bucky had left his own room earlier, was wide open. He mentally thanked Sam for always thinking of the little things.

Her bed hadn’t been slept in yet, but the covers were already drawn back. He’d miss her warmth, Bucky thought, as he lowered her onto the soft mattress. But she wouldn’t give him the chance to miss it.  

“Bucky?”

Her voice, still rough with the remnants of sleep, caught him off-guard and he still didn’t quite know what to say. The loud thump of his heart in his ears almost drowned out his response, but the way she curled into him, held him that little bit tighter, reassured him that it was the right one.

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me.”

Bleary eyes eased open, the moon reflected in them, and he felt the air leave his lungs for the second time that night.

“Is this a dream?”

He could have said yes, left it at that, and returned to admiring from afar. But that sliver of uncertainty, that small spark of disappointment that even the moon could not chase from her eyes, it wouldn’t allow him to lie to her. It wouldn’t allow him to lie to himself.

“It’s whatever you want it to be.”

There was something so sweet about the smile she gave him. A bashful curl of her lips, so soft he wanted to test its sweetness for himself. Did he…did he do that to her? Was he someone who could put a smile on her face as easily as she could put one on his own?

“Bucky?”

The sound of her voice so close to his ear now, sent a shiver down his spine. He’d imagined it before, each time a different setting, a different tone, but the same desire he held when her name left his own lips. The reality was never supposed to live up to expectation, but it was far better than he had ever imagined.

He could only hum in response.

“Will you stay?”

How could he not, he thought, when she looked at him like that? Even now, nestled in his arms with her sleepy gaze holding his own prisoner, she had more power over him than anyone before. He’d give her the world if he could. She didn’t control him, she wouldn’t even if she could. But the magnitude of his own devotion, his desire to give her whatever she needed, whatever she asked for, it was unparalleled.

And for a long time, it had scared him. Too long, he realised, because as he looked down at her with a softness only reserved for one, he realised something else too.

He could see himself in her eyes, desperate and tender and full of a love he thought only he possessed. Her brow was soft under his lips as he drew her closer, her head pillowed in the crook of his neck. His smile stretched across her hairline.

“As long as you want,” he whispered into the night.

He’d find the right words in the morning, for now he could just let his reality wrestle his nightmares into submission.

---------

Please let me know if you see any mistakes, it’s super late. Hope you enjoyed it! 

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @darque-essence!

Hope this is okay as I've only had about three days to write it! Happy Holidays!

For the last part of this fic, there is a reference to a song playing in the background. If you are curious, the song is "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Kitty Kallen and I recommend listening to it while reading that specific part.

Read on AO3

*****

Snow Falls in Other Universes Too

“This is embarrassing.” Magnus groans, back plastered onto the rough ice.

If not for the utter state of disgrace he is in, Magnus would have appreciated the way the unusually blue sky is domed over him, only thin wisps of clouds tufted across the sky. His breaths materialize into puffs of condensation above him.

Alec looms into view, palms planted on his knees, trying to stifle a laugh.

“You’re doing fine.” He says, or tries to say nonchalantly, and of course he would say that, being the ever-so-charming captain of the varsity hockey team.

Aren’t jocks supposed to be dicks? Magnus blearily remembers one of his engineering friends lamenting on this fact after a pretty hopeless one-night stand with a guy from the football team. Also, she kicked the door right off of her mini-fridge in her ‘sorrow’.

“Alexander, the only other person on this frozen river who’s on her butt is that five-year-old.” Magnus says bleakly, refusing to move, “I’m not doing fine.”

Alec laughs, eyes crinkling, and Magnus watches the scene unfold before him like a flower in bloom. He is beautiful, Magnus thinks again, as if the thought hasn’t been thought before, like it’s freshy laid snow on the cold earth. Hair stuffed under a beanie, a scarf wound around his neck and tucked inside his winter jacket. Lips glistening with vaseline. He squats right next to Magnus’ sprawled form with no problem with balance at all. He ends up sitting right down on the ice, his knees pressed against Magnus’ side.

“You said you wanted to learn.” He chides, smiling, “It’s not going to be Michelle Kwan right off the bat.”

Magnus furrows his brow. “You know Michelle Kwan?”

“Of course I know Michelle Kwan.” Alec laughs. “I’m a hockey player, not an idiot.”

Magnus cranes his neck sideways to look at him part innocently, part teasingly. “You mean they’re not one and the same?”

Alec looks at him as if to say oh really, a laugh pinned against the roof of his mouth. “That’s rich coming from someone who just landed on his ass and refuses to get up.”

Magnus almost giggles, as if to say okay, fair point. Alec’s fast wit still feels like a sudden whiplash to him. He always has an amusing comeback just simmering beneath his tongue, ready to be used when the time arises. His words are just as fast as the way he carves out ice on the rink. Magnus still remembers the first time he’s ever seen Alec skate.

It’s the sound that draws Magnus in first. The smooth scratch of blades against freshly zambonied ice is something like music to the ears. It makes Magnus quietly descend down the stairs and right at rink side, elbows propped against the barrier, lost eyes taking in the fast yet graceful body driving puck after puck after puck into the net—high, low, stick side, glove side, right between the pads of an imaginary goal tender.

It’s only when Alec stops right in front of Magnus, snow spraying in his wake, that he actually feels himself blink. He smiles knowingly. Enjoying the show, are we?

Magnus laughs sheepishly, and decides not to mince words. Yes. You’re mesmerizing. He holds out a hand. I’m Magnus Bane. Professor Penhallow said you’re willing to participate in an Applied Physics study?

Alec Lightwood, and yeah, definitely, Alec says, slipping a glove off, hurriedly wiping his hand clean, and shaking Magnus’, I knew you were coming today, and I did see you in the corner of my eye, just didn’t expect—Alec falters, and Magnus raises his brow part curiously, part knowingly, like he’s expected the comment. Jocks are jocks, right? And today is an eyeliner day.

You can finish that sentence, Magnus says, smiling, whatever it is, I’m sure I have thick enough skin for it.

Alec looks back at him, confused. I was just going to say I didn’t expect an applied physics major to look like he can bench press more than I can.

Magnus blinks, takes the words, and parses through it thoroughly; Alec might have admitted to him in his own jock way that he’s hot. Maybe Magnus himself as a bit of a preconceived notion about athletes. What an unusual turn of events.

I’ll make sure to wear my reading glasses next time. Magnus teases with a smirk, and to which, Alec snickers.

You can borrow mine.

“Magnus.” Alec calls, laughter in his voice, and Magnus blinks. He’s been doing that a lot lately. “You have to get up.”

Oh yes, he’s on his first date with the most beautiful man he knows while at the same time daydreaming about the same beautiful man. That doesn’t make sense and Magnus thinks he may be concussed.

“How much mulled wine did you have?”

Oh, and that too.

“One,” Magnus says slowly, and Alec raises a fine brow at him, and it’s the most beautiful thing Magnus has ever drunkenly (ish) seen, “Plus four..?” he sighs, rubbing his belly. “It was so good and warm.”

Alec snickers, palm pressing against his eyes like he can’t believe the sneakiness Magnus would have employed to down four more cups of mulled wine behind his back. “Oh god. You’re drunk.”

Magnus corrects him from below, a finger swaying in the air. “No, just giddy. Also I’m just going say it now, because I feel really brave for some reason,” Magnus says aloud, so loud that a couple of skaters turn to look at their direction, “And I hope you’re ready.”

Alec gives him a small grin, cheeks rosy. “Hit me.”

“God, I really like you!” Magnus exclaims, and Alec laughs, and it’s like music in the air.

Alec shakes his head. “I definitely didn’t expect to be saying this right here right now, but,” he presses his lips together into a soft smile, “I really like you too.”

“Nice.” Magnus hisses victoriously, pumping a fist into the air, and looks at Alec pleadingly. “Celebratory mulled wine?”

Alec loses it completely.

When he gathers himself from the side-splitting laugh he endures, he ends up hauling Magnus onto his back and skating his way back to the start of the trail. Between Magnus giggling into his neck and his chest pressed perfectly against his back to a point of feeling the rhythm each other’s hearts, Alec doesn’t think there’s anything Christmas could bring that would make him feel as warm as he’s feeling right now.

“You could at least feign interest.”

The whisper comes in a tone of utmost indignation, huffed through a short exhale. Alexander does everything in his power to refrain himself from rolling his eyes. He takes a breath in and out instead. When he speaks, his voice is controlled.

“Forgive me, mother.” He says, addressing the Lightwood matriarch with a small nod, “The hunt had been long. I’m quite tired, I’m afraid.”

Maryse makes a distinct sound at the excuse. “You could at least use a better lie.”

“Mother’s right, Alexander.” Isabelle nonchalantly says from where she’s standing next to him, on the balcony overlooking the orchestration of noblemen and noblewomen moving across the dancefloor, “You need not lie for me. I rode my horse too far yet again, and you had to search for me through the early evening.”

Maryse looks positively mortified, eyes widened in horror at the revelation made before her. “Isabelle, you age me beyond my years with every passing day.”

Alexander and Isabelle exchange a small look across their shared space, biting down onto their lips in hope of pinning down the laugh that threatens to escape it.

The queen sighs, fingers fluttering onto her forehead. “The heavens may have blessed me beautiful, intelligent children, but they’ve cursed me with stubborn ones as well.” She throws both of them a knowing look. “One wonders which would prevail, a boulder or your two hard heads.”

“Our two hard heads, of course.” Isabelle whispers mischievously to her brother, “Three if you count the one always at attention when a certain someone’s around.” It’s all Alexander needs to choke on his own saliva right then and there.

Prince of Alicante, the golden archer, next in line for the throne, Alexander Lightwood, choking on his own spit.

Oh, heavens, help me, the queen bemoans as she makes her way to the gold-gilded chair that stands behind them. A hand maiden hands her a goblet of water to sip upon, and it makes Alexander and Isabelle want to laugh all the more.

Alexander breathes, settled now, and he clasps both hands behind him, stretching the hefty fabric of his white tailored jacket across his chest. He gazes upon their subjects below, in all sorts of merriment as the Christmas ball continues into the night. The musicians play their instruments that carries music through out the castle, in loud pompous beats within the royal ballroom, and in softer waves through the towering ceilings and empty, ornate hallways. Everybody looks their best, and everybody is happy. He could not ask for more than that from the holidays.

“You need not lie for me.” Alexander mutters under his breath after a moment to himself.

Isabelle smiles softly, eyes at the dancing below. “I agree. I did not need to.” She says, “But I wanted to.”

Alexander looks down onto his feet momentarily. “I have no secrets to keep.”

“Who says you are?” Isabelle asks, on her red lips a teasing smile.

Alexander doesn’t stifle himself this time and rolls his eyes. “You sound like someone who’s happened upon fresh gossip.”

Isabelle chuckles under her breath. “No gossip here, brother. Just observations.”

Alexander raises a brow. “And what might those be?”

Isabelle laughs a second time. “Alexander. If were to I list them all, we will be here until the clock strikes twelve.”

From the corner of their eyes, the queen is motioning to the herald and he steps forward, sounding the trumpet to garner everybody’s attention. All movements cease from below, and the herald announces the start to the presentation of princesses for Alexander’s consideration for the first royal dance—a tradition that stems so very deep into royal history. He breathes out, brow furrowed, and takes one step towards the stair case when Isabelle holds her hand out.

“I would like to be the one to do the royal dance this year, mother.” She says firmly, and the queen waves a hand dismissively.

“No. Alexander will do it.”

“Is because I’m a woman?” Isabelle challenges, and Alexander looks at her, brow raised.

Maryse rolls her eyes—ah yes, that’s where they both get it from. “Isabelle, the eldest child always does the first royal dance. It’s tradition.”

Damn it is visible on Isabelle’s face. Alexander doesn’t know exactly what his sister has planned, but she has quite a fair bit of fight left in her. “The same way a queen cannot govern this kingdom without a king?” she says, and by the way Maryse’s face shifts, she knows she’s hit at something substantial.

Isabelle delivers the final blow. “And yet, here we are. A queen governing a kingdom just fine by her own.” She says, “Mother, Lightwoods spit at tradition and accept the consequences.”

Alexander fights down a smile. Sweet Isabelle, princess of Alicante, master tactician. Maryse must be regretting ever putting her through military training with him.

Maryse breathes out a small sigh—these children will be the death of me—before turning to the herald and telling him to call forth the princes instead.

Isabelle turns to Alexander, finally. “He’s where he usually is. The eve of Christmas is not for dancing with people you don’t like.”

Alexander says stiffly, “I like my people.”

“You don’t love them, though.” Isabelle looks at him knowingly. “Go.”

Alexander presses his lips together, a thought tumbling precariously within his mind, torn again between nagging responsibility and softly beckoning desire. But he remembers a laugh so musical it fills him to the brim, and eyes so wise it seems to hold the answers to every question he’s ever asked. It’s what makes him look at Isabelle with gentle gratitude, and it’s what makes him turn around and walk away even before his mother could say anything.

“She is a great beauty.”

Alexander frowns at his hands, a gentle breeze fluttering his cloak about. The sunlight beams down upon both of them softly, like a gentle greeting, and it makes the gold of his tunic glisten. “That I’m not contesting.”

His eyes leave the lines of his palms and settles on the sun-kissed back of his most trusted friend. The man rakes his fingers through the soil, airing it out for planting new seedlings. Magnus has always been of the land. From the first moment they have met, he has always smelled like freshly watered earth, like petrichor in the morning.

The same man looks away from his task and peers up at him. “Then what are you contesting?”

Alexander shrugs, lips pressed together. “That I don’t feel any affection for her?” he says, “That I don’t want to marry her?”

Magnus chortles, and Alexander frowns. “Alexander, it is but a meeting. Not a betrothal.”

Alexander rolls his eyes. “You say that as if you’ve mastered the inner workings of political diplomacy.”

“I say it because I know the queen.” Magnus says, rising to his feet, hands brushing soil from his trousers, “I know your mother. I know how though she wears a stern mask, she bears a soft heart.”

Magnus presses a hand against Alexander’s arms, and the touch is warm and reassuring. “She will not let her son suffer for her own betterment. Or the betterment of the kingdom.”

Alexander watches as Magnus trudges towards a basket sitting on the ground, gathers a bouquet of picked flowers from this morning, all the stems wound with a brown string. “Anthurium for hospitality, gentian for gratitude, amaryllis for splendid beauty, and alstroemeria for friendship.” He presses the flowers into Alexander’s hands, “For the princess.”

“Attend today’s meeting.” Magnus says, smile soft, “Princess Lydia deserves your respect, if not your affection. And whoever holds your affection, I’m sure she will respect in return.”

Alexander pins his lip between his teeth, a thought within his mind. “Whoever holds my affection, will you respect this person too?”

There’s a glaze of something in Magnus’ eyes, maybe wistfulness, but too slight for Alexander to be sure.

“Whoever you choose to love, Alexander,” Magnus says gently, “I will love as well. As my own kin, as my own friend.” He smiles yet again, and the hand on Alexander’s arm falls away as he settles back onto the earth. He takes a rose seedling and begins his work of planting them into the soil.

Alexander smiles to himself as he walks away, an arm cradling a bouquet of flowers, the other hand brushing the fully bloomed petals of hundreds of red roses that surround them both.

“He is lucky.”

Alexander quickly turns from the window and hides his surprise beneath a mask of nonchalance. The royal dining room has been emptied out, and both royal families have moved to the great chamber for tea. The gentle waterfall tune of a harp being played hangs in the air.

“I’m not sure what you mean, princess.”

Lydia chuckles, brightly painted lips curled into a smile. “No need for falsities. If our kingdoms are to work together, I wish for us to be good enough friends to admit when one has discovered a grain of truth about the other.”

Alexander furrows his brow, unamused. “And this is what you think. That you’ve discovered a grain of truth about me.”

“I pass no judgement.” Lydia answers, her words bearing a tone of truth, “I see love for what it is. Simple. True. Shared between people.”

“I am impressed by your forward thinking, your highness,” Alexander says, frowning, “But I fear you are misdirected.”

Lydia peers through the window herself and finds the figure of a man working under the sun, surrounded by the roses he himself have planted. “I assume it is his expertise that is behind the beautiful flowers you’ve presented me with?”

She looks back at Alexander, smiling gratefully. “Please extend my warmest gratitude.”

Alexander blinks, taken aback by the genuine words. “I will.”

She gazes at him, really looks, as if within her ribcage a grain of truth pleads to be let out. “Alexander.” She says, and the softness in her voice is enough to for him to allow the brazen use of his name, “Bravery isn’t simply wielding a sword in battle. Being who we truly are as we live our lives with every passing day,”

“That is bravery too.”

Lydia presses her hand against his momentarily, a sympathetic smile on her mouth, before she turns and walks away. By the door her hand maiden awaits, the bright red of her curled hair visible from far away, and Alexander watches in muted awe as Lydia takes the other’s hand in hers.

“I wonder if I’d ever see you without your hands combed through the earth.”

Alexander feels the man smile even before he turns to look at him. The moon casts its light upon them both, as if it knows all the lamps in the castle is being used to light the Christmas ball that continues on in the periphery.

“Don’t hold your breath.” Magnus says, a smiling mouth formed around gentle words, “I came to you with dirt in my hands, I will leave you the same way.”

Alexander remembers the moment like it was a memory encased in glass. The royal gardeners have been dealing with what they thought were rabbits pulling root crops from their vegetable garden, until one day, they give chase to something definitely much bigger. They pull a child from beneath a berry bush, thin, quivering, and frightened beyond measure. They would have thrown the child into the dungeons if not for a ten-year-old Alexander barking orders like he’s already bestowed the throne. When Alexander takes the hand of the child to pull him up to his feet, earth is smudged across his face, soil underneath his fingernails. They’ve grown up together, Alexander as the prince of Alicante, and Magnus taken in as a servant boy by a sympathetic queen, and no matter what, no matter when, earth lives in Magnus.

Some things never change.

“Wait,” Alexander says, confused, as if the words have settled in his mind quite late, “Leave?”

Magnus rises, hands passing against the sides of his pants as he usually does. He looks at Alexander, eyes soft. “I have asked the queen if I could serve the Aldertrees instead.” He says, and the words are muffled against the rising panic within Alexander’s head, “And she graciously said yes.”

Alexander feels fear and sorrow and anger swirl like a hurricane within his chest. “Why?”

Magnus smiles small. “Change of scenery, my prince.”

“Speak true.” Alexander grits, “And if not the truth, at the very least don’t lie.”

“If I do,” Magnus says, slowly, softly, words losing its honorifics, and the familiarity of it feels at the very least comforting, “If I tell you my truth, what good is it?”

“Tell me.” Alexander says under his breath, brow furrowed.

Magnus continues like he hasn’t heard the request. “What good is baring one’s heart if it is to be ripped out of the body in the end?”

Alexander sighs, hand to the forehead, frustrated. “Magnus, tell me.”

“I promised,” Magnus says, hand planted against Alexander’s heart, voice shaky, “I promised that I would love who you love, and I don’t think I can.”

Alexander casts him a look of confusion, his words telling of the panic in his chest, “What has brought this about, what did you see—”

“Nothing,” Magnus presses, eyes glassy, “Just—a seedling of truth. One that has been growing within me for a long time, one that I know will bear no fruit.” He pats his palm against Alexander’s heart, as if in goodbye, “I leave tonight, with the Aldertrees’ carriage—”

“I love you.” Alexander says, cutting down Magnus doubt cleanly like a sword to a body, “And by I love you I mean I’ve thought about every good thing that has happened to me and the thoughts that my mind bring forward is you.”

“By I love you I mean I’ve thought about every consequence that could come my way by loving you and I’ve decided I would accept it if you would.”

“And by I love you I mean,” Alexander finds himself breathing heavy, like he’s run a marathon, heart galloping away, “Stay.”

“Just—” Alexander whispers, softly now, a solemn request, “Stay, Magnus.”

Magnus breathes, “I love you too, Alexander.” He whispers, “Since the day you pulled me from the earth. Until I take my last breath and I return to the dirt I came from. Even after that, I’d love you.”

Magnus shakes his head. “But I can’t promise you I’d let you give up your crown for someone like me.” He says, throat hoarse, “I can’t promise you I’d let Alicante lose the kindest king they would ever have.”

Magnus feels Alexander’s breath against his skin.

“But I promise to stay.”

Alexander nods, “Alright.”

Magnus chuckles. “Alright?”

“Yes, alright.” Alexander laughs gently, “May I?”

The question comes out of him as if he does not have the crest of the royal family stitched into his destiny, as if he is not the general of Alicante’s armies, as if he does not have a throne awaiting his ascension. Before Magnus, he is who is in the barest sense—a simple man.

Magnus smiles. “You may.”

They kiss, softly but surely, under a bright moon, amongst flowers planted by Magnus’ hands himself, the clock bells chiming midnight. They welcome Christmas day with eyes fluttered close and the smell of lush earth.

“Mother fucker—” Alec grits as another bullet whizzes past, this time so dangerously close to his head that it actually makes him jump in surprise, “He’s armed!”

Alec breathes out steadily and peeks minutely past the overturned table, momentarily catching sight of his target’s head flitting into view and returning fire expertly, a bullet boring a hole in the wall where his target once was.

“You were supposed to know that he has a fucking M1911 strapped under his desk!” Alec growls as he feels pieces of wood splintering from his make-shift shield.

Raj’s voice filters through his ear piece and the son of a bitch dares sound bored. This is America, everyone has an M1911.

Alec presses himself closer to the ground, Beretta M9 held close as he waits for an opportune moment to return fire. “He’s a good shot,” he snarls, before lifting himself off and firing a couple of rounds of his own, “Any explanations for that, asshole?”

Shooting range?

“Idiot.” He hisses, before abandoning the thoroughly shot at table and ducking behind a wall. There is a momentary lull, a silence that fills the penthouse, the tinkling of the barely-holding crystal chandelier the only sound Alec could appreciate.

You have a clear exit through a staircase by the kitchen. Back up’s ready—

“No.” Alec mutters, “I’ll finish—”

An unbearable screech rips through his ears and pulses into Alec’s brain as he curls in pain, tearing the ear piece off and before he could even attempt to clear his head, a shoulder digs deeply into his abdomen, knocking the breath out of his lungs and bodying him onto the floor.

They both hit marble with a dull thud that rattles both their bodies and Alec takes advantage of his assailant’s head pinned beneath him. Adrenalin surges through his bloodstream as he drops an elbow right onto the back of his assailant, hitting a wall of clenched muscle. The man buckles with a breathless groan but it soon passes as he quickly flips onto his back and in one smooth maneuver presses himself against Alec from the rear, locks an arm across his neck and squeezes.

A grunt pulses into Alec’s ears, “Stay down, darling.”

Alec gasps for air, eyes squeezes shut as he feels the heavy pressure bruise his trachea, but despite the oxygen deprivation, he sputters indignantly at the patronizing nickname. He is fucking pissed. He reverts back to basic training and pushes an elbow into one of the legs pinned around his waist, his other hand pulling the opposite direction in an attempt to at the very least bend the tibia just enough to—

A pained yell bursts by the side of his head and he reaches back and punches at the first thing I can reach, and god bless for long limbs because he hits a cheek squarely as if he has been aiming for something in the first place. Arms finally give way around his neck and he scrambles out of the loosened hold. He gets on his feet, and throws his entire body into another downward blow against a finely chiselled jaw. It jars his opponent just enough for Alec to get his own arms around the other’s neck in a tight rear chokehold of his own, and unlike his opponent, he will not make the mistake of not using it the fullest extent. He twists both legs over the assailant’s, pinning them in place, and with his arms locked tight he rocks onto his back, putting his entire weight onto the hold. It doesn’t take long for the thrashing to stop.

Alec pants, gives it a few seconds more, and lets go before his assailant expires fully. He has some questions he wants answered, and a dead hostage is a useless hostage. He hauls himself up, watches carefully as the unconscious man before him lays motionless on the floor, and with one massive push he flips him onto his chest. He takes zip ties from the inside of his jacket pocket and binds the other’s wrist with enough ties to ground a bigger beast down.

He wipes blood from his brow, a cut he doesn’t even know he got somewhere during the entire ruckus. He flips the man again, and Alec takes a good look on his face.

Well, fuck, he thinks to himself, as if he hasn’t seen the photos, as if the real deal, all bloodied up and hair loose around the face, is infinitely better, he’s hot.

His ear piece crackles on the floor completely destroyed, as if to agree.

“I could get used to waking up to a sight like this.”

Alec rolls his eyes, slips his shirt back on, and shoots right at a spot dangerously close to the man’s now scuffed oxfords. Annoying how he doesn’t even flinch. Instead, smiles cheekily, leaning back on his rickety throne, wrists and ankles bound.

“Shut up.” Alec orders, dragging a chair and dropping to a spot right in front of his hostage, “I decide when you speak.”

“Anything for you, darling.” He says smoothly through a bruised lip, and the words itself earns him another punch across the face. He laughs, hair strewn, and spits blood onto the glass-littered marbled floor.

“What’s your real name?” Alec asks as he settles his chair, “You are clearly not Brandon Han, and you are clearly not a wall street banker.”

“Magnus Bane. Pleasure to meet you.” Magnus says, tongue swiping downwards to rid himself of the trail of blood dripping down his lip, and Alec is not going to pretend it doesn’t make him feel things. “I’m sure you won’t be returning the favor of introducing yourself.”

“You have common sense, at least.” Alec answers menacingly, “Who do you work for? Hedgman? Lumumba? Or are you self employed?”

“Retired.” Magnus winks, and Alec swears to god he knows something he doesn’t. Magnus sighs, leaning back, “And I was happily retired, fronting as a foolish wall street banker, living an honest life.”

He angles his head slightly to the side, squinting curiously. “Until a firm sends one of their fresh, beautiful faces to shake up my nest.”

Magnus continues, stretching his words slowly, “Working on false intel.”

Something stirs in Alec’s chest, and it mingles with the ache that echoes from Magnus’ body slam.

Magnus shrugs, “Bugged from head to toe.” He says, eyes following the trail of his last three words. “That was why you had to strip off your clothes, right? To check?”

He chuckles. “A couple of hours early, but a great Christmas gift, nonetheless.”

Alec rolls his eyes, yet again, and this time shoots an inch from Magnus’ ear. The bullet shatters a vase instead. Still, a picture of relaxed temperament. What a fucker.

“Does flirting ever work as an escape plan?” Alec asks, and Magnus grins.

“Darling, I only flirt with people I like.” He says in a languid drawl, “And because I like you so much, Alexander Lightwood, I’ll tell you this.”

A boulder drops into the pit of Alec’s stomach at the mention of his name, his real name, through the mouth of the operative he was supposed to terminate. It makes him smoothly get up on his feet, gun aimed right at Magnus Bane’s forehead, barrel touching his skull’s frontal bone, a kill shot.

“You do not know the people you have chosen to work for.” He says, the flirtations dissipating into thin air, making way for vitriol in his words that are said under his breath, an undercurrent, “You have been made an offering, an easy kill, a love letter to an assassin who’s being wooed by someone who has been for a long time a mere annoyance. But now?”

Magnus just about hisses, “I’m fucking pissed.”

He leans forward, forehead pushing threateningly against Alec’s gun, eyes glinting in anger. “I’ve had enough of these silly games.” He seethes, every word punctuated with some kind of madness, “And I am tired of killing every little errand boy sent to me by a woman who doesn’t understand the word no.”

“Funny how a little errand boy bested you in combat and has you bound to a chair.” Alec snarls, and Magnus actually laughs.

He lifts the chair off the ground, and when it makes contact onto the floor it buckles underneath him and collapses into pieces. He rises to his feet, free, tossing the arms and legs that were once bound to his limbs, the zip ties mere accessories dangling from his wrists and ankles.

“I learned after the fifth assassin,” Magnus says, hand gesticulating, “That my furniture needs to reflect my ongoing needs.”

Alec follows him with his gun, aim true.

“Did you really think I don’t know how to finish off a proper choke hold?” Magnus asks, shrugging, “Did you really think I would incapacitate you rather than shoot you at point blank range if my goal was to put you to the ground?”

Magnus peers into Alec’s eyes. “Do you think I would have let you even cross the foyer of my apartment, if I truly wanted you dead?”

“Then what do you want from me?” Alec grits.

They hear footsteps, or whispers of footsteps, ones that are carefully deposited onto the floor. There are signs and symptoms of stealthy movements, a small click of guns being adjusted within tight grips, the brush of tactical gear against fabric.

“I’m going to kill Camille Belcourt. And every single member of her firm until everything she owns is rubble on the ground. You can pass onto her that message.” Magnus says under his breath, wary of spying ears, “Or you can help me take her down.”

The door to Magnus’ apartment bursts open, and back up fills the living room like floodgates being opened. They form a wall of ammunition from behind, and it makes the hair on Alec’s neck prickle in apprehension. A steady ache builds in his gut, and it offers to him an intuition. Alec presses his lips together, brow furrowed, gun still pointed at Magnus who has settled in his spot upon the home invasion.

“You have a decision to make.” Magnus says quietly, and it makes Alec grip his gun even tighter, unmoving.

“Will not ask again.”

Raj barks an order from his left.

“Take the shot, Alec.”

Alec breathes steadily, and even in times like this, feels irritation at that stupid voice. He rolls his eyes a third time today. He looks at Raj.

“You are so fucking annoying.”

He shoots him at point blank range.

Alec moves even before Raj hits the ground and runs for cover, grabbing Magnus along with him and jumping behind the overturned velvet sofa. A barrage of bullets rains down upon them and Alec winces at a piece of wood flying into his face. He crumples himself even small behind the couch and he quickly hands Magnus another Beretta and a couple of magazines slotted within his boot.

“You must be something else if Belcourt either wants you for herself or wants you dead.” Alec grunts, checking his own magazine and clicking a new one in place. “Show me what you got, old timer.”

Magnus looks at him dead in the eyes, smirking. “I’m not sure you can handle what I got, new blood.”

They give it a second—and then they start.

“Not bad.” Alec pants, blood spattered across his forehead.

Magnus peels off a thoroughly ripped suit jacket. “Likewise.”

They look around, the once pristine penthouse overlooking New York’s financial district reduced to rubble. Magnus looks at his home in superficial sorrow, a hand on the heart for the expensive, one-of-a-kind paintings that now has no value now that it’s been the catch all of fifty bullet holes. But then again New York socialites are fucking idiots. Maybe they’ll think it’s a Banksy.

“We should get going.” Alec says, “We’ve been here too long.”

Magnus holds a finger up, gaze directed onto the clock that is still miraculously standing after the hurricane of bullets that whipped upon the entire apartment. Alec frowns, looks up as well and just as he does the clock strikes twelve, bells chiming softly.

Magnus smiles at Alec. “Merry Christmas, Alexander.”

Alec can’t help but laugh.

“Merry Christmas.”

Alec wakes up to the feeling of snow.

When he blearily opens his eyes there’s a small cloud floating above him, sprinkling snowflakes on his nose. He chuckles, fingers rubbing the sleep out of his lashes. He need only look beside him to see Magnus beaming at him, chin propped on his shoulder.

“Good morning, love.” Magnus happily says, and Alexander feels the warmth of the words settle deep into his chest.

“’Mornin’.” Alec unwittingly mumbles, throat still hoarse with sleep. He contentedly leans down and meets his husband’s already pouted lips for a kiss, then blinks up at the little storm cloud swirling above him. “This is new.”

“There’s a movie Madzie has been raving on about, where an ice princess makes a snow cloud for a snowman so it won’t melt.” Magnus answers, flipping onto his back and stretching his arms as far as they can go, “I don’t want my snowman melting.” He grins as he swings his legs off the side of the bed.

Alec looks at Magnus, fake offended. “So I’m the cold one in this marriage? Me? When I ask to be cuddled all the time?”

“That only proves my point.” Magnus says, slipping on his silk pajamas and poking his arms through his robe, “Coldies always want cuddles. It’s their defining quality.”

Alec rolls his eyes fondly, getting out of bed himself. “I can’t believe Fray planned a three-part event for Christmas day.” He says, voice muffled momentarily as his head passes through his shirt, “And all mundane stuff?”

“It’s going to be fun, Alexander.” Magnus says soothingly, “Ice skating, a snowball fight in Central Park, and a Christmas ball in the New York Institute? Sounds like a nice way to spend Christmas day.”

Alec looks at Magnus like he’s a bit deluded. “Have you skated before?”

Magnus purses his lips in thought. “No, but I love parties and I’m a good shot, so I’m two for three.” He grins, “What ever I will lack on skating, I will make up for confidence.”

Alec disappears through the bathroom door, his voice mingling with the sound of water hitting the sink. “The last time I danced is during our wedding, and god knows you still have the scuffed shoes as proof of my skills.”

“How about a bit of practice?” Alec hears from the living room, and when he steps out of the bathroom with a washed face and brushed teeth, a slow, old-time, big band song sways in the air, hanging soft notes of piano and trumpets in the atmosphere.

Alec walks barefooted into the living room where a vinyl player is spinning a record, one of Magnus’ many mundane treasures. He sees his husband standing there with a smile on his lips, equally barefooted on the ornately patterned rug they’ve brought home from a souk in Tangier. He awaits him the same way he awaited him in the middle of the dancefloor of their wedding, almost a year ago now, a hand outstretched.

Alec warmly smiles, and he knows despite his two left feet, despite the many times he will lose his footing and sway the wrong way, he will always dance with Magnus. He will look a fool for Magnus. He loves him that much.

Alec’s hand meets Magnus’ and they draw to each other automatically like a moth to flame. Magnus curls into the circle of his arms, head tucked under Alec’s chin, temple pressed against the spot on his neck where his deflect rune sits. Alec presses their joined hands between their chests as Magnus circles his arm around Alec’s back, and then they sway. Feet brushing against carpet threads, fingers grasped together, eyes fluttered close.

There are many conversations that needs to be had in the future, ones that involve turning fifty years together to sixty, sixty to seventy, seventy to eternity. It’s a conversation Alec has had with himself many, many times, but not yet with the man he loves. Sometimes doubt inches its way into what he has thought is a firm resolve. But what brings Alec back towards sureness is somewhat of an odd thought.

Sometimes Alec wonders if there’s universes out there where he doesn’t have all this, an Alec without a Magnus held close against his chest, and it truly makes his heart ache in a way he doesn’t quite get. It makes him draw his husband even nearer, as if just thinking about losing Magnus barrels him towards a reality where that is the truth. It’s what moves him closer and closer to certainty of the future he wants.

He’s not quite there yet.

But he will be.

For now, he dances with the man he loves.

“Merry Christmas, Magnus.” A shadow hunter says to a warlock.

(A hockey player says to a physics major.

A prince says to a servant.

An assassin says to another assassin.)

Alec feels a smile against his shirt.

“Merry Christmas, Alexander.”

[janiedean]

HELLO ANON, I’m delighted you wanna participate in my week-long springsteen birthday party celebrations!!! and since you took care to leave me such a long, well-put, thought out message that I’m sure you thought I couldn’t wait to read, I decided to talk to you about a truly absolute classic and if you don’t know it I even picked for you one version where he’s hot as hell, isn’t it darling? ;) so, without further ado...

badlands is the opening act of bruce’s fourth (and most likely turning point) record darkness on the edge of town from 1978. it’s one of his truly most known classics, a hell of a concert opener/piece (believe me, I’ve tried it seven times and it was always a mystical experience, you should too!!) and a perfect summary of... pretty much all of his favorite themes. sounds good? believe me, if you ain’t experienced badlands in your life you’re missing something. ;) now, shall we go through the lyrics? (ps: really, listen to it while you read my explanation or you won’t get the full experience :( )

Well, lights out tonight Trouble in the heartland Got a head on collision Smashin' in my guts, man I'm caught in a cross fire That I don't understand

so, we have one of those openings of bruce’s that cold kick you into the scene that imvho are one of his trademark points and I love him dearly for it which immediately projects you into the scene: we’re in the heartland and the lights are out tonight, which means that it’s night and it’s dark and already from the first two lines you can contrast the upbeat rhythm with the utter bleakness of the opening. by the way, if we all failed geography like jon and sansa, this is what we mean with badlands:

and with heartland we mean that part in the US that goes from north dakota/iowa to kansas/missouri roughly, so we can assume that our narrator comes from some small town in center-USA and he’s not enjoying his time there that much. see, two lines and you already have situation, mood and location - this guy knows how to write a song, amrite?

so, other than that, it’s lights out and this guy has a collision in his guts, which makes you immediately think of a car accident inside his body in one of the most tender parts of it/in the part that gets upset when we feel sick first, which is supposed to make you feel his visceral unhappiness at his situation. also, he’s caught in a crossfire ie he feels in the middle of a bunch of different problems that jump at him and he doesn’t understand them, which also means that he hasn’t straightened them out and he doesn’t exactly know what’s wrong with him, but he knows that he has problems and that his life isn’t what he wants.

But there's one thing I know for sure, girl I don't give a damn For the same old played out scenes Baby, I don't give a damn For just the in-betweens Honey, I want the heart, I want the soul I want control right now You better listen to me, baby

so: now he addresses a girl, which means he’s talking to a woman who’s supposedly his love interest, and he tells her he knows one thing at least, which is that... as before we have guessed he’s in some situation of stasis that he dislikes while he feels caught in a bunch of problems he can’t face/figure out/have a grip on, and his visceral reaction to it is that he wants to cut away with all of that, he wants to stop rehashing his old life (the same old played out scenes/just the in-betweens), and he immediately states it as he says that he wants the heart, the soul and control, as in: he wants to have back his feelings (his heart), his life (the soul) that he feels he doesn’t have anymore and mostly he wants control over them, as if until now he’s felt like he didn’t have it and everyone else was taking all the decisions, and he presses to his girl saying that she has to listen to him. seems like he’s decided, right?

Talk about a dream Try to make it real You wake up in the night With a fear so real You spend your life waiting For a moment that just don't come Well, don't waste your time waiting

now, here we have one of the most iconic lines bruce ever put to music (the first four verses) which would deserve treatises, but anyway, for what we can do: he tells her that they have dreams that they shouldn’t forget and that they should try to make them real ie they shouldn’t be there worrying about played out scenes and in-betweens, but then they wake up with a fear so real that they can’t do it, and at this point you feel their fear too because he’s singing in a way that about throws all of that in your face. but then he says you spend your life waiting for a moment that just don’t come and that hits you even more because don’t we all wait to do things/wait for the right moment to experience things/throw ourselves into what we want to do and then it passes and you think it’s gone? yeah, that. and with that he says that we shouldn’t, and we go into the immortal refrain, as in:

Badlands, you gotta live it everyday Let the broken hearts stand As the price you've gotta pay Keep pushin' 'til it's understood And these badlands start treating us good

now: living the badlands every day (look at the above) is obviously a way to say suffering through your life while feeling overwhelmed (don’t you feel overwhelmed just looking at those pictures?) while the broken hearts stand as in, your heart being broken is the price you’ve got to pay because life is shitty, but if you *push until you get it* then the badlands might start treating you good and you might turn your life around. that’s the message, but it becomes even more obvious when you go ahead with the rest:

Workin' in the fields That'll get your back burned Workin' 'neath the wheels 'Til you get your facts learned Baby, I got my facts Learned real good right now You better get it straight, darlin'

so: our narrator has a physically demanding and hard job (working in the fields/’neath the wheels) which causes him physical problems (back burned) and he had to suffer through that to learn his facts real good, which he stresses repeating it twice, and then explains:

Poor man wanna be rich Rich man wanna be king And a king ain't satisfied 'Til he rules everything I wanna go out tonight I wanna find out what I got

admittedly, it’s not the most original moral but it’s because it’s true: poor people want to be rich (of course), the rich never have enough and want to rule over the others (be king) and the kings/rulers/people in power have no satisfaction until they have everything under their rule because their ego is out of control and power breeds power and no one ever has enough of it (seems like grrm likes bruce). our dude, who’s definitely poor and not a king, just wants to go out tonight and find out what he’s got. and what does he have?

Well, I believe in the love that you gave me I believe in the faith that can save me I believe in the hope and I pray That someday it may raise me Above these

so, he has three things: the love his girlfriend gave him so we can suppose she definitely has an agency in this relationship and he didn’t expect her to give it to him, he has faith that he can be saved from his crap life (could be faith in god or the love he feels for her or both) and he has hope and prays that all of this might raise him above the badlands, ie: that the fact that he has love in his life and that love gave him hope might give him the push to leave his crap life behind and get to something better that he desperately yearns for.

Badlands, you gotta live it everyday Let the broken hearts stand As the price you've gotta pay Keep pushin' 'til it's understood And these badlands start treating us good

now you see that the refrain repeated at this point has a new layer added to it, right? now, you should really be listening to the song because that’s when clarence clemons’s immortal sax solo happens and brings you to another dimension and then it slows down before the last part is basically a whole crescendo which believe me in a concert is a mystical experience. also, get ready for one of the Best Lines Bruce Ever Wrote In His Life:

For the ones who had a notion, a notion deep inside That it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive I wanna find one face that ain't looking through me I wanna find one place I wanna spit in the face of these

now: here we get the nail on the head ie he sums up the entire deal in two lines: this song is for the people with a notion deep inside ie a need so bad it’s etched inside them and nothing can carve it out or take it from them that there’s nothing sinful or bad in being glad you’re alive as in, in being glad you are because then you can keep on living and make things better for yourself rather than just give up and die in a life that you hate, and those people should find a face that doesn’t look through them (as in, someone who sees them for who they really are and loves them for it), one place (as in, a place to live that they want to live in), and they should spit in the face of the badlands ie the horrible life they feel like they can’t conquer but that they need to leave behind.

I mean, it’s basically spitting in the face of what hurt you until now and go off to live your life and trying to be happy, what’s to hate about it? and if you listened to that song, you’d know that at this point the crescendo ends and it kicks into the last refrain:

Badlands, you gotta live it everyday Let the broken hearts stand As the price you've gotta pay Keep movin' 'til it's understood And these badlands start treating us good

which is the same as before obviously, but now has three different layers more to it and tops perfectly a gem of a song that is deservedly one of bruce’s most beloved ones by us all fans and that should be more known to the casual listener because it’s truly iconic and speaks to all of us because we all felt like that at some point, didn’t we?

thank you so much for indulging me in my springsteen extravaganza anon! you might find it a little difficult to do it again I fear, but if you find a way I’ll be delighted to find you some other iconic song to dissect. happy early springsteen birthday!!!! :)

[artificialqueens]

Notebooks and post-it’s - chapter 2 - (Branjie) - thankyoumissvanjie

A/N: come the angst filled rabbit hole with me.

“Oh. It’s you. What do you want?” Vanjie wanted to shiver with the iciness of her tone, as Brooke just kept on blending her purple smokey eyes.

“We got’s to talk.”

LINK TO AO3 HERE

The season 11 tour was an experience.

It was hard work, an insane amount of travelling and also a bit like being on summer camp.

There was no other way for Nina explain it. Being together with her season 11 sisters was amazing. The absence of cameras made them all relax more, which made the drama disappear.

It made it possible for her to really appreciate all her sisters.

She was in awe over Yvie’s drag, she loved A’keria and her tendency to stir the pot. Plastique, Soju and Ariel made her feel old while teaching her everything about filters and hashtags. Shuga was a delight and Silky was loud and fun. Vanjie was… different?

Nina couldn’t really put her finger on it. Vanjie was still loud and hilarious. But something seemed very off.

It was, however, difficult to investigate, as both Silky and A’keria had kind of closed ranks around Vanjie.

They probably thought that Vanjie needed protection from Brooke, even though the Canadian queen was isolating herself from everyone, even Nina.

The last time Brock had reached out to her was weeks ago, as he called her in the middle of the night, sobbing and completely out of it. From what Nina could gather, Brock had drunk dialled Vanjie, only to realise that she was with… someone.

Nina tried to console him, to tell him that maybe he needed to reach out to Vanjie after he had sobered up.

But she knew that he hadn’t done it. In fact, the day after all she got was a text that said

Sorry. Got a bit too drunk last night and was an idiot. Please don’t make a thing out of this.

So Nina didn’t.

She left Brock alone and saw him transform into Brooke Lynn Hytes, current reigning queen. Brooke was flawless and if you didn’t know her you would think that she was doing okay.

But Nina could see the protective layers of ice that she had covered herself in. She saw how Brooke only truly shined on the stage and during Meet & Greet’s.

Nina noticed how the smile would fall from her lips the moment Brooke walked backstage. How the queen would keep to herself and not really participate in any of the shenanigans.

But Nina didn’t know what to do. Brooke had put up an impenetrable wall that would’ve made Trump jealous.

Seeing the heartbreak that Brooke was going through made Nina want to yell at Vanjie.

Except, It was clear that she was hurting too.

It was obvious that her eyes sought out Brooke in every room she entered. Just for a moment. Every single time that Vanjie thought no one was looking, she would search for Brooke.

So what was a soft and cuddly Miss Congeniality, who most of all just wanted her friends to be okay to do? Brooke was out of the question, and getting close to Vanjie seemed almost impossible to-

“Hello, hello, hello Miss Nina. Whadya done being hiding here?” The loud trucker voice startled her out of stupor, making her jump a little in her heels.

She turned around, coming face to face with Vanjie in full drag. Her brunette hair, thigh high boots and sparkly t-shirt dress made her look street-fish.

What she also noted was that Vanjie was alone.

“Biiiitch. You can’t scare an old woman like that!” Vanjie’s laugh sounded like a cross between a dying seagull and an old man having an asthma attack. Which in turn made Nina laugh.

Fucking Vanjie.

They both stopped laughing at the same time, staring at each other. Nina opened her mouth ready to finally broach the subject of a certain moody Canadian, but it was Vanjie who spoke first.

“How is he?” It was said quietly, yet quickly. Vanjie looked slightly surprised, as if she herself was bamboozled over the fact that she had actually asked that question.

It was certainly not what Nina expected.

“He’s…” she didn’t want to out Brock, certainly not to his ex. But lying to Vanjie also seemed out of the question. “...good. Yeah. Good.”

That fooled no one, you idiot.

“Don’t be lying. I know him. He be drinking and smoking like he’s Bianca’s Motherfucking twin. He ain’t right and I think I gone done fucked up…”

“Vanj…”

“I know you his good Judy and I ain’t trying to be starting anything… just… I see him and get emotianat- emotio- I get up in my feelings okay. He doesn't look good, Nina.”

“I know. But I-“

“And then he called me - we ain’t talking for months and he just calls drunk on vodka. What was I ‘posed to do? He had on his sad big eyes, looking like I ate the last bit of that stupid Canadian food he fucking love-“

“Poutine ?”

“Yeah, that Putin shit… He done left me, and then he be calling, at night? That’s some wrong ass shit, Miss Nina. I am trying to move on instead of thinking ‘bout what could’ve been. Bitch left me, so why he moping like a toddler?”

“You guys left each other. You were both scared and not ready. You know this. Stop only blaming him, Vanj.”

“I ain’t blaming him! I am just sayin’... he left me.” Her voice cracked on the last syllable. It made Nina’s heart ache.

These two idiots.

“Maybe you guys should talk with each. You’re not okay, and he is… whatever he is. Maybe you need to clear the air, there’s obviously some unfinished business here.”

“Okay, Miss A’keria. Have you seen that tall glass of Canadian ball busting ballerina? He don’t wanna talk with me. I’ve tried.”

“It’s Brooke. You gotta give her no choice. And come on. You’re Vanessa Vanjie Mateo. Since when have you ever let a little Canadian bacon get in your way”

“Well shit, mama. You’re right.” And with that she turned on her heel, marching down the hall with determined steps towards Brooks room.

_________

Vanjie was a chicken.

Despite her determined steps and iron will, she found herself faltering as she stood outside Brooke’s room.

Could she really do this? Maybe Nina was wrong, maybe she should just forget about all of this.

But then she thought about Brooke’s face, the way that she didn’t really seem happy anymore, and made a quick decision.

She was Miss Motherfucking Vanjie, and she sure as shit didn’t hide away nobody.

Pushing open the door, Vanjie barged in, quickly closing the door after herself, ensuring that they would have no audience for this.

The sudden sound made Brooke look up startled, getting eye contact through the mirror with Vanjie.

Her face went through several emotions in a span of a few seconds - all too quick for Vanjie to identify any of them - before she settled on cold and blank disinterest.

“Oh. It’s you. What do you want?” Vanjie wanted to shiver with the iciness of her tone, as Brooke just kept on blending her purple smokey eyes.

“We got’s to talk.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you. Please leave”

“No.”

“Vanj. Leave.”

“Nu-uh Mama, we doing this.” Vanjie quickly turned around and locked the door, leaning with her back up against looking right at Brooke.

She knew that Brooke could lift her with a pinky, if she really wanted to move her, but shit, there weren’t a lot of options left.

“Oh. So now you want to talk?” Brooke turned around in her chair, looking Vanjie directly in the eye instead of through the mirror. Her eyes were thunderous and Vanjie wanted to cheer out loud, as it was the most emotion the queen had directed at her since it became official that they had broken up.

“Yeah. I’m done hidin’... So let’s talk.” Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Vanjie looked at Brooke expectantly.

“About what? What could I possibly have to say to you?” Brooke got up from her swivel chair and walked towards Vanjie. She was wearing her signature blonde hair and her purple stepford-wife-kaftan-realness dress was swishing behind her.

Vanjie’s mouth dried up, as she was once again reminded of the beauty that was Brock in full drag. The beauty and grace made Vanjie want to stare at her forever, while also making her tingle with the need to wreck the sheer perfection in front of her.

“No really? What? You want to talk about how everyone is blaming me? What about your little post-it quote? Should we discuss how A’keria and Silky keep giving me the side eye?” Brooke’s voice slowly increased in volume as she walked closer and closer to Vanjie. Towering over the smaller queen.

“No wait… I know. Let’s talk about how I fucking have to stare are your face every day and be reminded of what could’ve been!” Brooke poked Vanjie in the chest her eyes flashing.

“I am done with all of this.”

Vanjie’s heart skipped a beat as her mind processed what Brooke had just said “what could’ve been”, the air electric between them.

“We have a meet & greet in 10 minutes.” Brooke was gorgeous, her blue eyes like a storm, anger collected in the fine lines of her face. “So move.”

“No.” Vanjie stood her ground, the word almost getting caught in her throat, Brooke looking like a hunter.

“Move.”

Brooke stepped forward, and Vanjie was the first one to move, her hand slamming into Brooke’s chest pushing her back slightly

“Oh...” Brooke looked down at the hand, like she couldn’t believe what Vanjie had just done.

Brooke shoved back, Vanjie almost stumbling, and then they were kissing, teeth clicking, lips sliding, hands gripping, tearing, taking and Vanjie wanted to disappear into Brooke.

“You fucking bitch.”

The words were hissed through clenched teeth, as Vanjie grabbed Brooke’s hair, her fingers buried in the blonde wig and pulling, forcing Brooke closer, making her be the aggressor. Brooke was quick to catch on, slamming Vanjie against the door.

“No, you’re the bitch.” Brooke whispered it between kisses.

It was hot and hateful, tender and burning, everything crashing down with the words they could not bring themselves to say out loud. Their bodies telling stories of longing and love, of broken promises and heartbreaks that were still bleeding. Tender stories of what they both so desperately wished they could still have; their swollen lips, gripping fingers and tender jaws an exchange between two wounded people who had no language left, but the most primal of all.

It was Brooke who broke them apart.

Brooke who stood up and turned to the mirror, checking her makeup.

It was Brooke who avoided Vanjie’s eyes as she calmly walked out of the dressing room with the parting words:

“You better fix your makeup, meet & greet starts soon”

Vanjie was left all alone in the dressing room. With a heaving chest, wide eyes and a muddled mind that tried to understand what had just happened.

“Well… shit.”

[fal-carrington]

Love Will Tear Us Apart

Pairing: Victoria x Mc

Gender: Slightly Angst/heartbreaking filled with romance

A/N: Hi everybody, today I was inspired and I decided to write this. The idea popped into my mind as I was replaying the last chapter of RCD's book 2 when Victoria admits being in love with MC, and MC alternately rejects her, so Victoria says "Don’t say anything else please. If you get there... Amazing. If you don’t... I still think having you in my life has been for the best”

Prompt: Falling in love with your best friend and seeing her date someone else can be painful, especially when you do not admit your feelings to her for fear of losing her and being rejected. That was what Victoria thought, but that was before her agent called with an unexpected offer. When Victoria and Kat have to act as lovers in Thomas Hunt's new series, things can turn out to be disastrous, would Victoria finally admit the truth when she's about to kiss her best friend for the first time on a TV show? Somebody is going to get out of this with a broken heart?

"So what do you think Victoria? I mean, it's a great opportunity and you were saying a few years ago that you wanted to reinvent yourself. That may be the perfect moment." Rachel, her agent was looking at her waiting for a response from the diva. Victoria stared at the script with no expression on her face. She knew perfectly well that this was a great opportunity, many famous names in Hollywood would be in that show, Hunt was the director, that had everything to succeed and be a glorious, but what she did not expect was who would be her co-star. Kat.

"You know very well that I don’t do TV shows, Rachel." Victoria left the script on the coffee table, turning her eyes to her garden, feeling the cool wind hit her face. Her agent took a sip of coffee with an expression Victoria knew well. She would not take an no so easily.

"That role is perfect for you and you know it. I honestly do not know what the problem is in accepting." Rachel groaned again, waiting for a true answer from the diva. "Is this because of Katherine?" Rachel narrowed her eyes. Victoria sighed.

"She is my best friend. She has nothing to do with my refusal,” Victoria lied, swallowing dry, distractedly stirring her croissant on her plate.

"You're a great actress, but I know you're lying." Rachel pointed. "Are you still having that unprofessional tension on the set? I thought that had been solved in Tender Nothings."

"And it was! We get along really well, I love being around her, we talk about everything, we spend most of our time together. She's a good friend,” Victoria said feeling the words run down her throat like acid. Referring to the person she was in love with as a friend was perhaps as bad as being rejected by her.

Rachel stared at her for a few moments before taking her coffee.

"So it happened, huh? I was wondering how long it would take to happen," Rachel said casually.

"What are you talking about?"

"You and her. You fell in love with her. Who would say, honestly I'm not surprised at all. I do not know how the media has not yet realized this tension between you two"

"Oh, please." Victoria rolled her eyes.

"It's true, huh? Tell me how long you've noticed” Rachel leaned back in Victoria's summer chair and looked at her with a triumphant smile.

Victoria sighed. She knew she would not escape that conversation even if she tried. The best thing would be to open the game for her agent and stop denying it at once.

"Since she visited me in New York. Before the recordings of The Last Duchess begin,” She admitted. “... And she show up at The Godmother premiere.”

"And you never opened the game for her? Has nothing ever happened between you both?”

"No, never. And besides, she's dating Matt.” She sighed heavily, feeling the weight of those words. "Why would I say anything? I do not want to ruin our friendship. She clearly doesn’t feel the same and I dont even know if she’s into girls.”

“You never asked?”

“No!”

"So you're afraid of rejection."

"Oh, for god's sake. Enough talking about Katherine.” She rolled her eyes. But deep down inside, she knew that Rachel was right and with that came the memory of last night in her mind.

Victoria was coming down through her Pictagram feed, smiling gratefully at the thousands of likes that popped up in her newest photo. She liked a photo that Teja had excitedly posted from her new chair of director of the film she was directing, Victoria's eyes went down to the end of the screen immediately to the unexpected photo posted a few seconds ago. It had been posted 10 seconds and there were already a thousand likes.

"Night out with bae! Love you.”

Her eyes lingered on the photo for a few moments. Until her fingers went automatically and without her permission to give like in the photo.

It was a picture of Kat with Matt. Both were hugging and smiling, sitting in a booth couch at Vertigo's. Kat was as beautiful as ever, the flash had made a beautiful contrast in her blue eyes. Victoria swallowed hard looking at the photo of the new Hollywood couple. It had been a huge bang when they both took over the relationship, gave in all the magazines and newspapers. Both were in innumerable interviews and the cover of the magazines, she lost her account of the photoshoots they did together. Leland and Candy always demanded new interviews to see them again, just as the paparazzi pursued them in the streets. She wanted to hate Matt.

She wanted to hate him with all her strength, but she could not. Matt was a good person and a good boy, and he was certainly making Kat happy. He probably was a good boyfriend too, he was going in all the fashion shows that Kat participated as a model, she knew perfectly well that he was going, because she also went in all. He had been with her on all her travels, and had been with her almost all her tours, since she had decided to invest in the music career dropping her first album, making a huge success.

He was with the person she wanted to be, the person she had fallen in love with. Her girl, her best friend. But she understood or she tried at least, Matt was young. Both were, and it was undeniable that both could not take their eyes off each other during the entire Tender Nothings recording, Victoria would like to say that she was surprised when Kat came to tell her the news, but she was not.

"I'm not going to lie, it fucking hurts," Victoria murmured softly to herself. She had never told Kat what she felt, but what was the point of doing this? She would only be rejected. She remembered perfectly the tough beginning of their friendship, how she had been rude and cruel to Kat, until she truly knew the girl and realized she was a good person. End up liking her without even realizing what was happening, what was a rivalry became a friendship... And the friendship became love. She never expected to fall in love with her best friend. She'd known Kat for four years, and she had not expected to be so attached to her. She needed her and couldn’t imagine her life without her best friend. Maybe the universe has a sick sense of humor after all.

"... And It's kind of hard to put aside when we're going to have to play as lovers on this show!" Victoria said, running her hand through her blond hair in frustration.

"I know this complicates things."

"Just to say the least." She sighed.

"You have much to consider. Think about it and try to put this question about Katherine aside. I know you two are best friends, you're in love with her, but you're a complete professional actress. Certainly, I know you can leave your personal problems aside on the set.” Before she could said something else, her cell phone vibrated. "Oh, it's Pippa Majors, I have to pick it up. Think about what I told you and then call me, okay? " She stood up leaving a confused Victoria behind.

21h30pm

Victoria paced back and forth in her bedroom, with Rachel's words in her mind. She knew that accepting the role was a difficult choice, but it was probably the right thing to do.

California's hot air entered the room of the actress porch, causing the curtains to sway. She was too busy in her thoughts to realize that her cell phone was vibrating a few seconds ago.

"Oh, fuck," she said to herself and took him in her hands. She bit her own lips, cursing herself when she saw the name and the picture on the screen.

Kat. She watched for mere seconds to Kat’s dork photo and she answered.

"Katherine, what can I do for you?"

"Hey, you." Kat laughed on the other end of the line. "You're not busy right now, right? You can talk?"

"Sure. What's it?"

"So I was talking to Chazz this morning and Hunt came up with this incredible new series offering he's producing, so he mentioned that he offered it to you as well. So of course I got the script, and I was wondering if you already accepted it.”

 "Well, I'm still thinking about. I'm not much of a type making series."

"Oh, come on Vic. It'll be great, you'll love it! "

"I'm not so sure about that."

"What's the problem?"

"Nothing. It's just... It's not my style."

"It's never too late to change." Victoria sighed impatiently.

"I'm thinking about it, okay? I know this is a great opportunity, but I still do not know."

"I'll be there. Let's act together like we did in the past. Tender Nothing’s was great and you know it."

"Yeah... I'm aware of that."

"... And we can see each other everyday. It's been a long time since we've been out, I've been busy and so have you. I have not known what it's like to see you for months. This project will be great for us "

"I'm sure Matt fills my seat." Kat laughed.

"You are my best friend. Do not get me wrong, I love Matt, but he's not you." A smile grew on Victoria's lips at those words.

"Grow up, Kat." Victoria rolled her eyes.

"Oh, come on, do not be mean."

"Yeah. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's good."

"Look, you're already agreeing."

"You're so biased." Victoria laughed and sighed. "Okay fine. I'll talk to my agent."

"Finally! Thank you, Vic."

"Do not thank me, I'll get paid for it." Kat laughed in response. "So ... Uh. Do you have plans for tomorrow? I'm free, and if you want to have coffee or something..." Victoria bit her lip anxiously.

"Sure thing. We can catch up. I have plenty things to tell you."

"Alright. See you tomorrow."

"See ya." She hung up and swallowed dry looking of her cell phone. Until her fingers automatically went up to her agent's name in her agenda and soon the phone was already dialing.

"Victoria?"

"Hey, Rach. I was thinking about the paper... And I decided to accept it."

"That’s great. What made you change your mind?"

"Kat did."

Saint Monica, Malibu 15h30pm 

Victoria was staring at her coffee in her hands, watching people passing by, people looking over her shoulder and taking pictures of her with flash and the paparazzi doing a terrible job of hiding themselves at the tables. She rolled her eyes. As the cafeteria door opened and Kat emerged, a smile lit up her face involuntarily. She looked gorgeous in that white summer dress, her honey-colored hair loose and her blue eyes vibrant. She smiled back when she saw Victoria, walking to her table.

"Hey, Vic." She hugged her.

"Hey Kat," Victoria sighed, patting her back slightly.

"I feel like I have not seen you for decades! You've been so busy lately.” Kat laughed as she sat beside Victoria.

"Oh, shut up. It's you who's been traveling all the time,” Victoria said and Kat chuckled.

"I know, things are going crazy these days. But I'm so happy to see my best friend again." Kat touched Victoria's hand on the table, taking one look from Victoria to the pair of hands together. "I missed you."

"Yeah... Me too. So ... How's it going with Matt?" Victoria scratched her throat trying to distract herself from the scene.

“Like always. He's recording his new movie in London and I'm getting new work in mind now."

"Hunt's new series," Victoria concluded.

"I'm so excited about this. It will be wonderful, all the scenery that goes, the forbidden romance ... All the crime and the action scenes. And of course, I'm excited to see the guys, Chris, Holly, and I was told Pippa's going to be in the movie. Are you excited to see her?’” Kat took a sip of her coffee.

"Who?" Victoria frowned.

"Pippa." Kat shrugged.

"Why would I be?" Victoria looked at her blankly.

"I remembered the chemistry between the two of you that day at the party at her house. You seemed very interested."

"That was... Nothing." Victoria dismissed it with one hand.

"Oh... okay. Well, anyway, The fact that we're going to star together as lovers is awesome. I’m so excited, I mean, you're a great mentor and my best friend, I feel like we're going to do a great job."

"Oh, yeah." Victoria chose the words carefully. Watching the big dimpled smile on Kat's face. "Well, what can I say... Two hot women as a couple on a tv series? This series is already ours.”

“That’s the spirit!” Kat grinned.

“What can get wrong?" Victoria muttered to herself.

[bie-lovers]

Fic Recs

I’m participating in the Phanfic Finder Fest and I’ve stumbled upon some absolutely awesome fics that deserve so much love! Go read and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

(i’m putting this under a read more because this post got long)

FT. DAN’S FAMILY

home is where the wifi connects automatically - by @oqua12 (ao3) (tumblr) G, 8k

Summary: The wifi at Dan's parents' house is utter crap, which is definitely why he's always so miserable when he visits his family for Christmas. Because of the wifi. (Or at least, that's what he chooses to tell himself.)

My thoughts:

oof. i don’t even know where to begin.... there’s so much to unpack with this fic. on the surface there’s dan missing phil at christmas, and then there’s difficult family relationships and how people can hurt each other without actually realising nor meaning to and there’s love and thoughts of a better future and goddamn, this fic is beautiful. 

HISTORICAL AU

Renegade - by @awesomesockes (tumblr) M (beware of mcd - it’s not mentioned in the masterpost), 20+k

Summary: It’s World War 2. Phil, a young German soldier, is stationed in Denmark. There he meets Dan - a rebellious Danish school boy who is intent on making his job hell. But before long, they realise they have more in common than they’d have thought. How do you hide a friendship when you come from two different sides of a war? 

My thoughts:

HOLY SHIT. i read this months ago but it still makes me tear up when i think about it - and yes, i still think about it. because this fic is everything. it’s so heartbreakingly beautiful, full of longing and love and loss and the consequences of war... just... yeah, it’s a beautiful experience to read this fic. 

FIC BETWEEN 1-5K

Marigold and Rosemary - by @esnesnonibila (ao3) G, 3.6k

Summary:  Phil’s a strange child. His first word is ‘why’. He doesn’t speak much and cries a lot and never smiles. His parents take him to doctor after doctor who say that, despite that he’s intelligent for his age, there’s nothing wrong with him. Nigel gives his son fat plastic toy soldiers to wave about in his chubby hands and put into his mouth. Instead, Phil makes a stage out of a baby blanket and has two of the little men carefully hop around it; lines up the rest in rows as an audience and then knocks them over when he’s finished, his face crumpling.

My thoughts: 

this fic... this. fic. y’all. I lovelovelove it and it’ll forever sit within my heart with such a bittersweet feeling. There’s so much to talk about with this fic; from parenthood and how difficult that can be, to childhood and growing up different from everyone else, to love and friendship and the beauty of it all. The writing is phenomenal - every word fitting together like puzzle pieces in this intricate and wonderful little universe.

TV SHOW PLOT AU

Stirring In Love - by @andthenshesaid-write (ao3) (tumblr) T, 72k

Summary: When Phil applied to be a contestant on the Great British Bake Off he didn't even expect to make the long-list, let alone make it into the actual tent. But make it he does and there he meets Dan, a baker unlike Phil in every possible way. After a rocky start, Phil realises that maybe he can learn some things from Dan after all, and the biggest things have nothing to do with baking.

My thoughts:

i still find myself thinking about this long after having finished it. the writing is captivating and beautiful and it’s such a fun and sweet slow burn fic about baking, rivalry, cakes (so many good cakes!!), and falling in love. yeah, i’m not doing this justice, but trust me when i say that this is a brilliant, brilliant fic and you should definitely read this!! it’s a classic.

WET DREAM

make me dream of you - by @capriciouscrab  (ao3)  E, 1.5k

Summary: He nudges at Phil's mind, creating the link that allows them to share thoughts and feelings with each other. Dan senses him opening up and gasps, the feeling just as erotic as when he slides himself inside Phil's willing body. They drift together now in this shared dream, breathless with excitement. 

My thoughts:

this fic is built on such a unique concept and i love it so much, i could read thousands of more words in this universe!! it’s hot and sexy and warm and so full of love. it may be a bit of an unconventional take on a wet dream but as soon as i read this fic i knew i had to rec it! so well written and so good. 

MARIO KART

Waiting Room - by meandmybrokenfeels (ao3) G (beware of descriptions of injuries and such), 1k

Summary: Prompt: a toddler broke your nose and I may or may not have snapped my thumb during a very intense game of Mario Kart and now we’re both sitting next to each other in the hospital waiting room

My thoughts:

this is an older fic but it’s such a fun and easy read. their banter is so very them and i how they’re both immediately connecting and teasing and it’s just... a little delightful gem of a fic.

SIXTY-NINE

in and out - by @iihappydaysii (ao3) E, 1k

Summary: Sex. It's one of the three things in life that make Dan happy.

My thoughts:

ashley is hella great and y’all probably know that but the way he managed to make sex like this so sweet and tender and loving is just amazing. this fic is about so much more than the hot sex and the characterization is just... spot on. it’s such a warm and hopeful and happy fic.

FT. MARTYN AND CORNELIA

go follow your gem - by @phanetixs (ao3) (tumblr) T, 4.8k

Summary: “B-but,” Kathryn spluttered. “You don’t? That’s not, that’s not...but you’re a woman.”The boys winced and Martyn looked close to an argument, hilariously enough, and all Cornelia felt was sadness that her gender was reduced to this, to a single-minded archaic Purpose.

Or, Cornelia decides not to have children.

My thoughts:

this fic handles such a delicate topic so wonderfully and carefully and i’m in love with the writing, it’s absolutely gorgeous. oh, and this quote is amazing:

“I’m proud of you,” she told him.

“What for?” Dan replied, turning his face towards her, smushing his cheek into the back of the sofa. He looked so young like this, and it’s altogether too easy to forget how much he’s been through, how much he’s had to fight.

“For being you. I think a lot of the time that’s the hardest to achieve.”

HOOK UP APP

best kept secret - by @alittledizzy  (ao3) (tumblr) M, 8k

Summary: Bryony wants to introduce Dan to her friend Phil... the same guy Dan may already be dating. 

My thoughts:

i love the focus on dan and bryony’s friendship and how the story flows with them. mandy’s a master and her way of writing feels so easy but important anyway and yeah... this fic is amazing!

FT. FANTASTIC FOURSOME

A Whisper of the Heart - by @pseudophan (ao3) (tumblr) T, 4k

Summary: Dan spends a little too much time in the school library, and one day he notices that all his books have previously been taken out by the same boy. 

My thoughts:

such a fun read - a high school au with on-point banter and all the good things! I’ve read it multiple times and it’s still just as good and fun as the first time. (also, @ nora where’s the follow-up fic i need to know Miss Oliver’s reaction)

[fates-end-does-vns]

Nogi Wakaba is a Hero: 1/2

that's a familiar looking face. sister or ancestor? sister or ancestor? 

that's a pretty karinish face there 

Second hero diary? What was the first?

>Nogi Sonoko joined the Sanshu Middle School Hero Club.

Starting in the present, I see.

>The Nogi Household's rose bath was like a hot spring.

ahh, wait, that illustration is for this scene isn't it yeah, now I see the black eyes instead of purple

>"That's a cute reaction~ I'm sure the readers would love a character like you~ my creative urges are rising~"

sononononono, don't break the fourth wall

unless you're making fanficion of your friends like fiw twilight, in which case I implore you to reconsider.

>"Yeah, that combination does sound like it could work. So next, how about Nogi?"

do not give sonoka a position of authority outside of combat. it will not end well.

>But yeah, right now, I think that out of all four candidates, I'd recommend Karin as club president. It'll probably be hard for her, but she is the 'perfect hero' after all, so I'm sure she can manage somehow."

ah right karin's more mellowed out now.

>"Okay, I'll read your fortune! ...Okay, I've got the results. This looks like it'll be a good romance!"

show me how you fucked up the tarot itsuki. I won't get too mad.

>"Well~ I'm not sure what I like exactly, but someone who's diligent and takes good care of others would be lovely~. It'd be even more fun if they were way too serious and got reckless from time to time, huh~"

sonogo you're just describing togou

>I wanted some material for my novels, so I asked for some history books to sent in from my family house's archive, and they sent me a huuuumongous amount of them.

HISTORY BOOKS GOTTEM

>"Books that escaped censorship... Those exist?"

fffucking taisha

burnin books too

>It was the same title as the diary Sonoko had recorded when she was worshiped, the Hero Diary.

ahhh so hero diaries are what the taisha make heroes write after they've reached their expiration dates

>It says the diary began to be recorded in July 2015.

so the treepocalypse happened in Next Sunday AD.

>"Nogi... Wakaba... Is she my ancestor~? If she wrote this diary, then does that mean my ancestor was a hero?"

caaaallllled iiiiiiit

y'alright there yuuna

(Prologue: End)

apocalypse magical girls from the far off future of 2018

what the fuck yuuna's is yuuna a time traveller a reincarnatee a cryogenically frozen supersoldier from the distant past

or is this just a coincidence

>Nogi Wakaba, a fifth grader at the time 

>a fifth grader at the time 

>fifth grader at the time 

>fifth grader 

are you fucking kidding me 

that was a joke

so nogi wakaba is basically blond sumi right 

why do these ten year olds have boobs

>One of the star-like objects fell onto the roof of the kagura-den. It was definitely not a bird at all. Its entire body was an almost unnatural white, its size far more gigantic than a human, with an ominous mouth-like organ.

and here's the vertices

>On unsteady feet, Hinata stood up. A strange light imbued her eyes and hex-like words leaked from her mouth.

ahh hinata's got the old possession style sayakafication fairies

I see they're taking the opportunity to do what they can't show on television.

>When she snapped back to her senses, Wakaba was standing up with that very sword in hand. She could've sworn the blade was rusted, but before she  had realised it, the blade was tinged with a vibrant, almost living brilliance.

we sure this is still the magical girl genre? this is giving me Eternity Sword vibes more than anything

>Some changed into a form like the edge of a section of body tissue, stiffening and rising up. (...They're... evolving...?)

that's not how evolution works.

>Three years later-- Nogi Wakaba was now a second year in middle school.

not expecting a time skip of all things. I'll be honest, I was enjoying the hellhole thing.

>Uesato Hinata is a Miko, one who hears divine voices.

miko, huh? interesting.

chapter 1 end.

the fuck is a doi

>After the invasion, a special tree by the name of "Shinju" appeared in Shikoku, and a giant wall made of plant tissue surrounded the island. It is said that the Shinju was the incarnation of the local gods, and the wall was a barrier it put up to stop the Vertex.

"appeared", "it was said". hm, hm, hm~♪

>"Uranophobia."

pff, uranus. but apparently it's "fear of heaven"

>Although it said "hearing the voice of the gods," it was not through common speech, but rather in the form of symbols and suggestive hints that instructions were transmitted to her.

symbols and suggestive hints, huh... so basically it's a horoscope.

>Only the purest of girls

"purest of girls"? what the hell does that even mean in this case

> are able to come in contact with the gods who detest impurity.

oh, the gods are fucking Lunarians.

>An area of the southeastern part of Lake Suwa in Nagano was, like Shikoku, also protected by a barrier where people could live.

...Another barrier? A second tree, or???

noodle discourse

>It let her feel safe knowing there was a friend out there fighting as well.

she's gon die isn't she

oh fuck I'm going to need to memorize at least five sets of speech patterns aren't I

>"I'm not fondling them! I'm trying to tear them off!"

i see hinata has more in common with togou than her hair color

this'll be a joy to get straight 

we even have multiple soft-spoken girls with long black hair 

interesting to note that yuuna's not pictured yet.

>Normal weapons were useless against the Vertex, only those that the Heroes wielded could inflict damage upon them.

so do the weapons have fairies in them or what

>"Taisha" was written with the characters for "Great Shrine," wait a fucking second is this a different organization

yeah yuuna's a time traveller.

chapter 2 end

guess blossoming is already a thing

for some strange reason I feel like wakaba's the only character who matters here.

>And yet Yuuna was less concerned about herself, and more concerned with Chikage who hadn't participated in the battle at all.

yuuna being yuuna

>The next moment, the cylindrical Vertex began forming a clear red plate-shaped structure.

cancer?

>Out of the infinite records available to her, the one Yuuna now chose was "Ichimokuren".

wait, so yuuna's choosing her fairy?

and stuffing it in herself, which is bad.

>Wakaba had dodged the Vertex's charge with the least necessary movement, and at the same time, she bit off part of the enemy's body with her teeth.

don't bite the alien wakaba

>"Wakaba-chan! You can't go eating weird things like that, okay!?"

pff.

chapter 3 end

so is she referring to actual blossoming here or what

>A foul smell hit her the moment she stepped inside.

welp

chikage's in a bad place

chikage's in a really bad place

>They both cursed her existence.

yikes

>Those who had hurt her once were now trying to get on her good side.

garbage people, the lot of them

>(My worth... is in being a hero...)

oh no this won't end well

>It allowed her to exist in seven different places at once. She wouldn't die unless all seven were killed at the same time.

and this is even one of the fairies mentioned in that report.

chapter 4 end

??? I don't get it

oh hey gemini

>"I see! So then maybe we can use the udon as a diversion if it reacts to it!" there is absolutely no way this will work.

>untamarable what kind of pun is that

chapter 5 end

wait a second is that part talking about udon did they censor udon and intelligent? why the hell would the taisha censor information about instant noodles 

>The one who saved her was Yuuna. She suddenly appeared in the midst of the swarm and started holding them off instead of Wakaba. are you sure yuuna's not the protagonist here

so to temporarily stop the vertexes the taisha allegedly went aztec on what were allegedly six mikos those wouldn't happen to actually be these six characters somehow, would they? and I guess Yuuna would be a zombie...?

end of chapter 6

so apparently the divine tree is blaming humans too? fuck that tree.

guess hinata's hair is purple now.

>"...Her consciousness still hasn't returned." so are comas normal for yuuna

this group is a lot less stable than the other ones.

>Now that it had been denied... just how should she fight from now on?

wakaba freaking out about her girlfriend leaving is cute

ah, anzu's trying to cheer her up by point out how many people she’s been helping.

>(But now... I have to get over it.) :V guess the therapists all got eaten

and Chapter 7 ends with another timeskip.

>And perhaps they would keep on changing. *glances at gin's funeral*

>Aki Masuzu clamoured in misery as she changed clothes. oh boy another new character

>However, all communications with Suwa had ceased after last September.

and another tree circle is confirmed just to be killed off lemme guess, they'll disappear one by one until shikoku's all that's left?

>Finally, the Shinju appeared at the end of the path. hup

even in a light novel, the tree isn't described

>Several of the small stars combined into a brilliance unlike anything I've ever seen... leo again?

>There are two kinds of honetsukidori. Chick uses spring chickens while hen uses more mature chicken meat. Chick is more plump, tender, and easier to eat, while hen has a deeper flavour that oozes out the more you chew on its tougher meat. stop it, you're making me hungry

>All Yuuna was doing was cheerfully humming as she cleaned Wakaba's ears-- but not even Hinata was a match for a technique like that. even in other characters' stories, yuuna reigns supreme

>The fierce battle foretold in the oracle in the midst of the war of humanity's last stand would later be called the Battle of Marugame Castle. Oh, so we're getting into a fight that's actually important?

[End of chapter 8]

hmm. you know what, there's only so long you can string me along with splotches of whiteout before I get desensitized to it.

>Would they just blindly increase in size, or would they guide their evolution into an intentional form? The latter.

>By that time, the black shadows wrapping around her foot had already disappeared. what the heck

>Suddenly, Tamako collapsed to her knees. really shouldn'tve tempted fate back there.

>The fairy she had extracted from the Shinju was Minamoto no Yoshitsune, a general with superhuman martial arts thought it was a divine tree, not a throne of heroes.

end of chapter 9.

So are they going on a "trip" outside the wall? Wonder if it's as much of a primordial hellscape as it is in present times...

>Many buildings had been blown out from the inside as if a chemical explosion had occurred within, and traces of heat-deformation could be seen. That's the first unpleasant thing they saw? Guess the vertexes haven't done... whatever to destroy the atmosphere yet.

>For dinner, they were boiling water in a pot to cook some udon they had brought from Shikoku. It was a dry-noodle kind of Sanuki udon that kept well. of course they're eating udon.

>After dinner, everyone went into the river to wash off their sweat. oh boy another fanservice scene bet there's a cg for this too yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

>"If I become a hero and do my best fighting the Vertexes, I can save people. If we keep saving people, then we can slowly but surely take back the world and bring it back to normal. At least that's what I think!" Yuuki Yuuna is a Hero, after all.

>After the heroes had annihilated the Vertexes, they decided to resume moving for the day. even the story is getting bored.

>"Th... there was supposed to be an Osaka-famous rare book store here! How terrible! The last copies of incredibly precious books could be lost to the world now!" all that devestation, and that's what makes you freak out?

>Instead-- they found a heap of several skeletons. That's... odd. They haven't found any bodies so far, have they? I figured the Vertex don't leave anything behind.

>Wakaba noticed a notebook on the floor. She picked it up and looked inside. It was the diary of someone who took refuge in this underground mall.

oh are we going to read a diary in a diary?

chapter 10 end

[kuromantic]

Whumptober Day 3: Insomnia

Matsukawa sat slouched in his seat, biting his lip compulsively to keep himself awake. He couldn’t miss another lecture by snoring through it, when he’d already succeeded in passing out like that four times. On days he didn’t fall asleep in class, he sometimes couldn’t go altogether. He was dangerously close to failing with the sheer lack of participation.

A mechanical pencil poked his back. It was Oikawa, peering into him with the same concerned face since high school. “Mattsun, you okay? Want me to call Hanamaki?” He whispered, placing his palm on either side of his mouth.

Matsukawa shook his head to signify a definitive no. He couldn’t bother Hanamaki for the third time this week, when he had stayed with him through the sleepless nights until he could exhaust himself long enough to pass out. He’d decided to power through the pain on his own.

His tender spots throbbed with each passing second. It was the only thing keeping him awake, but also the reason he was in the verge of fainting. His energy had been sapped until he was nothing but a shell of what he used to be in high school, the chronic pain taking away his ability to lead a normal, functioning college life.

Instead of attending parties and looking for a part-time job, Matsukawa spent his evenings curled up on a soft surface in pain or staring at the ceiling counting the sleepless seconds as his eyes burned into his head. And Hanamaki often stayed by his side, comforting him through every painful and ugly moment. A plethora of problems came with his initial condition, some of them being very unpleasant to experience and discuss.

Matsukawa’s brain was engulfed in a thick cloud of mist, and his joins roared with pain as minutes passed. A bead of sweat travelled down his back as he counted down the seconds until class would be over. He couldn’t deal with the pain and drowsiness for long, and he’d completely given up on writing his sloppy notes halfway through.

It took too long for the bell to start ringing. Matsukawa waited until a good portion of his class had already left before he even attempted to stand up, knowing he could make a show of himself if he tried to stand up all of a sudden. He kept a hard grip on the table, lifting himself into a standing position before Oikawa could offer to help.

“Thank you, goodbye.” Matsukawa muttered as he left the classroom for common decency’s sake, avoiding all eye contact with his professor. He knew how some people looked at him, and he preferred not to take it all in when his entire body screamed at him to lie down. He knew that many of his classmates and professors judged him for hardly being able to attend classes, no matter what his friends did to help the cause.

It wasn’t like he could help feeling sick all the time. He was the most bitter about the whole situation. He didn’t ask for a chronic illness that leeched the life out of him. He wanted to study nutrition and graduate with a decent enough grade to get his dream job. He wanted to return to the days when he had his life together.

“Issei, hey.” Hanamaki gently wrapped an arm around him from behind, as he walked down the hallway. He remembered to avoid his tender spots, as always. Hanamaki never blamed Matsukawa for having a health condition that he couldn’t control. He always calmed him down after he broke down crying or had an angry outburst because of the amount of pain he couldn’t escape from. He never complained about losing sleep or his limited free time. As selfish as it made him felt, Matsukawa wanted more people like Hanamaki in his life.

Matsukawa nodded at Hanamaki, lifting his hand slightly to attempt a wave. He couldn’t lift his arm all the way, but Hanamaki recognised his gesture straight away. “How’s today been treating you?” Hanamaki asked, whipping out a few coins to buy a drink from the vending machine. “I’m assuming you want the green tea.” He waited a beat to let Matsukawa protest his order, and pressed the button on the vending machine when Matsukawa said nothing.

“Thanks, Hiro.” Matsukawa grinned in satisfaction, affection outweighing the pain for a brief moment before the throbbing in his body came back again. Hanamaki loosened the bottle cap before handing the green tea to him, while he bought his own matcha au lait. “You’re the best boyfriend I can ever-“ he paused, wincing as spots started appearing in the side of his vision.

“Bad pain day?” Hanamaki said, without missing a beat. Matsukawa shrugged, but it really meant a yes. He did have worse days, but almost passing out during a lecture was definitely bad. Hanamaki immediately got his cues, taking a glorious sip of his drink. “Let’s go home. Does that sound good?”

“Oh, it sounds absolutely amazing.” Matsukawa sighed with a hint of happiness. Walking hurt, but he could make it to Hanamaki’s car if he could bear with it for a few minutes. He’d stopped using public transport after he threw up in a train one night.

Matsukawa leaned his weight into Hanamaki as they trudged over to the car, attempting to mask the effects of pain on his body. It exhausted him to know that people stared at him when he walked that way and tripped over his own feet, so he stared at his shoes tagging behind Hanamaki’s until he reached the door.

“You hungry, or just tired?” Hanamaki draped a blanket over Matsukawa’s shoulders as he started the engine and placed his matcha in the drink holder. Matsukawa shivered, gripping the warm fabric tightly and pressing it against his eyes. His head was starting to pound, indicating the beginning of a migraine.

“I just wan’ sleep,” Matsukawa muttered, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the light coming beyond his eyelids. It did little to help the pain, but he knew it was so much worse when he didn’t do anything about the outside stimulus. “M’sorry, Hiro.”

Hanamaki ruffled Matsukawa’s matted hair. “Now, don’t be saying that. You’re not feeling well, so you should be resting up.” He kissed the top of Matsukawa’s head, tenderly. “I love you, illness or no illness.”

Matsukawa buried his face into Hanamaki’s shoulder as soon as he stepped out of the car, only lifting his head when they were both inside the building. Their flat wasn’t too big, but cosy to sleep in and watch Netflix when Matsukawa was able for it. “Want me to get a heat pack?” Matsukawa groaned in response, holding up a shaky thumbs up.

He pushed himself under the covers desperately, pressing his face into his pillow. All of his pain spots thrummed, and his migraine had reached its peak. His sleep schedule was messed up, but he needed to take the rest before he became physically incapable of it.

When Matsukawa woke up, it was too dark to make out anything but sounds and textures. His side was slightly warm, from where he had presumably rolled onto the heat pack while he was asleep. He had no recollection of Hanamaki bringing it to him, but he had to thank him later.

About fifteen seconds of relief lasted, until his upper body started to burn intensely. He ripped off the covers that made the burning worse, hot tears welling up in his eyes. “Hiro,” he called out instinctively to the person that gave him peace, but he wasn’t beside him on the bed. Panic seeped into his skin, eliciting a sob out of him.

“It hurts,” Matsukawa gave a whimper, opening his mouth to let out a pained cry. What came out was more than he expected. A splash of tea and bile dripped from his hands that flew up last minute to contain the mess, and onto the bedsheets. The burn spread to his throat, scorching hot and dripping.

The light flickered on, and the sudden light made Matsukawa gag again. “Issei, shit!” Hanamaki was beside him as quickly as he appeared, pulling him away from the soiled blankets. “Breathe in, two, three, four. You’re okay.” Matsukawa sucked in a breath, then started to cry harder. “I’m sorry for not noticing for so long.”

“I threw up on our sheets. Again.” Matsukawa sighed in his self-defeating tone. He felt disgusting, no matter how many times Hanamaki would assure him it wasn’t his fault.

Hanamaki shrugged, rubbing his back sympathetically. “They were ugly anyway. You can take the couch, if you think you can sleep.” He handed Matsukawa a new t-shirt and shorts, helping him out of his stained ones. “Is the pain still really bothersome?”

“It’s been hurting all this week,” Matsukawa said bitterly. “I just want to sleep, Takahiro. I’m just so fucking tired, it’s killing me…!” He broke into a round of sobbing, cursing his uncooperative body to hell. The only escape from constant pain was sleeping, but he couldn’t keep his eyes closed when his body hurt so much.

“God, I’m so sorry Issei. I’d make it all go away if I could. You don’t deserve any of this,” Hanamaki whispered, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend tentatively. “I’ll stay with you until you can sleep. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“You’re my boyfriend, Hiro. You should be having fun with me, not staying at home because my body’s being a dick.”

“Especially because I’m your boyfriend.” Hanamaki pecked Matsukawa’s cheek, handing him another heat pack. “Come on. Let’s try the sleeping thing again, yeah?”

[clodiuspulcher]

Can I ask what draws you to Agamemnon? He's often kind of a difficult figure to grapple with. Sincere question btw, not meant to sound mean I swear :)

NO NO this isn’t mean at all it’s uh. yeah I know it’s an unpopular Take / Opinion and I really do … care deeply about Agamemnon as a character, so thanks for giving me a chance to explain! it’s complicated, he’s complicated… This is gonna get long

I: APPEARANCE Let’s first put the shallow aspects on the table: he’s big, he’s powerful, he’s My Type (physically), I’m gay. This never comes through in film adaptations (although you know what? 1962 Electra Agamemnon comes close, although he’s overshadowed by the hot Aegisthus) but look at how he’s described in the Iliad: He’s compared to 3 gods, canonically Agamemnon is the most handsome man Priam’s EVER seen in his like one million years of life (a list of men which includes Aeneas , Hector, etc). (this post). When Priam says he’s “Every inch a king”, baby, you know what that means-Anyway , @kashuan‘s art is VERY good for conveying how I imagine Agamemnon based on these descriptions. and he’s drawn like exactly my type there. It’s a lot to reckon with.He’s big. He has big arms and big thighs and could kill me if he wanted and he’s powerful and his aristeia is badass and i’m gay. thanks. II: PERSONALITY Now this part is. more about Agamemnon’s character. first, Agamemnon in the Iliad is in fact deeply flawed- he’s imperious and arrogant and shortsighted and short-tempered, he’s stubborn and selfish and ALL OF THE THINGS PEOPLE HAVE SAID HE IS but there’s also a complexity to his character that tends to get flattened - I think because Agamemnon’s at his worst in book 1, people adhere to this AWFUL first impression and don’t bother to look beneath the surface / take the rest of his behavior / his character into account / use this as the baseline of their understanding, but there IS MUCH MORE to him than that behavior even in the Iliad itself, as detailed in THIS POST. He’s a powerful warrior in his own right, and his failings reflect both the internal flaws of his character and the weight of his responsibilities; we see his concern for his men, for the army, the people, in books 4 and 10 (when he can’t sleep because of his anxiety about his men, about Hector). He DOES however, learn and become better, he grows, he’s dynamic: he and Achilles finally make up (book 19! book 23! They’re good now!) and the Odyssey also ends with their ghosts talking as friends.

(Side note I wonder how this works out when Agamemnon’s son kills Achilles’s son but… that’s for another day).

There’s complexity in Agamemnon’s characterization in the tragedies as well, each tragedian has a different portrait of Agamemnon but he’s never one-dimensional.Euripides’ Hecuba has Agamemnon as concerned about his image and his reputation, anxious (and almost insecure) about his authority, but also concerned with justice and the rule of law, even towards one’s enemies. Sophocles’ Ajax portrays an imperious, proud, stubborn Agamemnon who refuses to realize he’s in the wrong but is able to be convinced by the council of Odysseus and eventually, again, comes to an understanding. Seneca’s Trojan Women shows Agamemnon as a Stoic voice of Reason, urging Pyrrhus not to be too violent/hubristic in their victory, and I love both the presentation of Agamemnon as a tired old man wanting to go home and the sort of man who gets into arguments with teenagers about war crimes. As usual, Seneca excels at this subtlety of characterization, this is like the epitome of the Dichotomy of Agamemnon, sympathetic and infuriating, a good leader and a stubborn, proud man, stoic and short-tempered, as present in the Iliad, is here too, and I love it , and him. Seneca’s Agamemnon almost reverses this (HE REALLY SAYS “What can a victor fear”) but I still love that play, and there’s something to be said for the characterization of Agamemnon as someone who learned ABSOLUTELY nothing from victory.

Overall, it’s true that we get, mainly, a portrait of a hard, ruthless, powerful, embittered man- remember how he destroys that one guy Menelaus wanted to save in the Iliad - but he has a sort of “aggressive charisma” as Kashuan once put it and I REALLY see it, and honestly that in itself has some sort of an appeal to me. But with this portrait of his personality, his softer aspects, the moments of gentleness we see, are more striking, they really stand out and indicate the extent of his feelings. In the iliad, for example, we clearly see he loves Menelaus and while he’s almost laughably over-protective (MORE ON THIS LATER), his care for his brother is evident, touching, especially juxtaposed with his shortsighted selfishness. Just look at what happens in Book 4, when Menelaus is barely wounded and Agamemnon is practically writing his eulogy. Right afterwards, also, “Noble Agamemnon showed no reluctance, no cowardice or hesitation, only eagerness for the fight where men win glory”- he rushes in to fight (but not before first taking out his anxiety on his men by demanding more from them. Cannot do anything appealing / good without mitigating it with irritating behavior. love this fool). It takes him like 9 books to finally apologize to Achilles but he defends Menelaus from Nestor’s reproach in book 10, is anxious about Menelaus being in danger if he’s picked to go on a night raid with Diomedes (HERE) and is endearingly not-subtle about it, frets over him in book 4, when he’s wounded, etc.

The love for his family is something that continually stands out and is perhaps his main “redeeming” trait. In the Odyssey, as mentioned, he ask Odysseus desperately about Orestes with heart-rending choice of words especially when one considers Orestes’s Actual Fate: “Come tell me, in truth, have you heard if my son is still alive, maybe in Orchomenus or sandy Pylos, or in Menelaus’ broad Sparta: that my noble Orestes is not yet dead?”. Agamemnon’s no longer a king- he’s a worried father, he regrets the most not being able to see Orestes before he’s killed; it is this pain, of not being able to be a father to his children, which seems to cut the most deeply, which he speaks of multiple times to Odysseus. Then they just cry for a while, with each other. (I like these tender aspects hidden in a big mean man.. but I also like his big meanness).

the Tragedies take this to another level, of course, to drive home the PATHOS required for his death to have an impact but his love of his family is very much on display there. Iphigenia in Aulis in particular provides us with some agonizing demonstrations of this love: Iphigenia reminisces about an exceptionally tender moment in their relationship, when she was young (you used to ask me, “I wonder, my darling, will I get to see you married one day, married and settled happily in your husband’s home, your life ever blossoming, making me proud of you?” And I’d touch your chin, my father, hang from your beard, father, like I’m doing now and say, “and what about you, father, will I get to see you, father, an old man, visiting me at my house, ready for me to repay you for your hard work in raising me?”) an image hard to reconcile with the merciless violence and stubborn arrogance Agamemnon displays in the Iliad (BUT AGAIN, THAT’S THE APPEAL). Clytemnestra assumes he’s crying because he’s sad to see Iphigenia leave them, Agamemnon’s messenger tells him the arrival of his family will cheer him up: even his subordinates know how important they are to him.

I’d need a whole nother post to talk about his relationship with Clytemnestra but please peruse these crumbs I picked off the ground (HERE). they Had something, tbh the tragedy ONLY WORKS if they did and I will DIE on this hill. In Aeschylus, Clytemnestra calls Orestes the “mutual pledge of their love”, he calls her a “great-hearted woman”, she shirks in Aulis at his curt, demanding tone towards her, noting it as something out of character, she takes charge anyway, knows he can’t or won’t actually force her not to be involved in the Iphigenia marriage preparations-All of this creates an image of a man whose imperious, ruthless, stubborn character is balanced with a surprising capacity for tenderness, a genuine fondness and love for the members of his family, which makes the fact that his hand, albeit forced, aids in its destruction, that much more devastating.III: PSYCHOLOGY/HISTORY

Where things get especially interesting for me, character-wise, is when one thinks about his lineage, his past, and his childhood with respect to his current character. This section is about the House of Atreus in general.

Agamemnon clearly bears the scars of his environment: he was born into the House of Atreus and IMO that informs everything he says and does, all his thoughts and feelings, the way he perceives both the world and his place in it. Seneca’s Thyestes is a horrific portrait of what Agamemnon (and Menelaus’s) childhoods must have been like, ATREUS is their father, they were old enough during this event to almost be accomplices which means they’re clearly old enough to remember it. Speaking of that, Atreus isn’t worried that participating in his god-crime schemes will turn his sons evil because, in his mind, they were born evil (Ne mali fiant times? nascuntur. God GOD). Agamemnon and Menelaus grow up in a nightmare house, adjacent to atrocity, under the almost comically cruel hand of Atreus who sincerely believed his sons inherited said cruelty as if its on the same chromosome as the “house-curse” gene. It’s genuinely a miracle Agamemnon and Menelaus grew up to be functional fucking human beings, in my opinion. It also gives a lot more weight to his relationship with Menelaus and the hard imperious cast of his character; their bond was forged in fire, Agamemnon likely protected Menelaus from the worst of Nightmare House being the older brother, and being as protective as he is. There’s this one Iliad adaptation, I can’t think of it off the top of my head though, where when Agamemnon’s freaking out about Menelaus being Barely Wounded he says “don’t die… for you are all I have” and that’s absolutely  how I think about their relationship in this context- Menelaus WAS all he had for so long, they clung to each other, they preserved their humanity in the face of horror BECAUSE OF each other.

But functional like.. .for a given value of “function”. Agamemnon is clearly deeply affected by these events, the weight of the Curse of the House of Atreus clearly impacts him. Take Iphigenia in Aulis, where he says “each one is born with his bitterness waiting for him”, the fact that a Son of Atreus would say that, I think, speaks to the innate, unspeakable fear of the certain destruction of his world, of the tragedy that awaits him, at his own hands, of the House-Curse waiting perched on his shoulder to strike just when he thought he’d created something impenetrable. The tragedy of Iphigenia in Aulis is Agamemnon’s realization that he has locked himself into this, that he has no other choice (see: this post about the Odysseus impact, there is in fact a point when it’s inevitable, although he still made the first move which makes it even WORSE he created this, etc) and all he can do at this point is watch as the life he so carefully built for himself and his family collapses around him, just like he must have always dreaded it would. (Also in the Iliad It’s Agamemnon who says “We must toil, in accord with the weight of sorrow Zeus loaded us with at birth” and that reminds me of this aspect of him too: Good Things Never Last, Bad Things Never Die, etc.)

It’s made clear that the story of Atreus and Thyestes is widespread, familiar; Teucer in Sophocles’ Ajax and Neoptolemus in Seneca’s Trojan Women both call out Agamemnon for trying to reference his lineage as a source of authority because it is a HORRIFIC lineage. “I know about the famous family of Atreus and Thyestes”, Neoptolemus says. And THEREIN LIES A CONFLICT: Agamemnon’s sense of self comes from his authority, his kingship, his position of power and his social status as a member of the nobility, of the class of royalty BUT. It’s all undercut by the fact that this power, authority, indeed his very identity is based in cruelty, violence, and crime; Agamemnon is descended from the most ignoble nobility, which he knows all too well.

It’s Interesting that Agamemnon’s relationship with his identity, status, family, power is brought up in Ajax, of all plays, primarily concerned with the destruction of Ajax’s identity- reminding Agamemnon of the crimes of his house genuinely cuts him down. I see Agamemnon as a man who genuinely fears his past, who dreads the legacy of his father and in his desperation creates a crisis for himself (as happens in tragedy).

We (I) laugh at Agamemnon “forgetting” about the god-crime shit before he pulls rank by referencing his Authority and Status but there’s something in Agamemnon continually being owned by forgetting about the House….  Agamemnon wants to distance himself from the “legacy” he inherited from Atreus, but he can’t without disavowing his power, his authority, his identity. Whether he likes it or not (he does Not), this is fundamental to who he is. I feel like that knowledge too lurks in his mind, rises to the forefront occasionally at his lowest points-

Clytemnestra in Aeschylus’s Agamemnon pretty clearly sees him / his actions as the next link in the god-crime family chain, a continuation of the house -curse, heir to his father’s throne and his crimes, hence her belief that killing him is the only way to end it/ stop the cycle of violence (spoiler she is wrong but there’s another post coming eventually about how they are Very Similar Characters short version the Etruscans Understand).

IN short, I think there’s a lot of complexity in Agamemnon people overlook, or don’t get to see since they don’t read the peripheral plays. Agamemnon seems to me a man in conflict with himself, a Man of Contradictions, who defines himself by his authority and status while fearing the source of it, whose devotion to his family contrasts with the horror of his childhood, and with his own agonizing role in its destruction, a man who willfully ignores or cannot bring himself to fully interact with the legacy of Atreus, who tries to distance himself from the crimes of his house and the cruelty of his father while being reminded of both every time he’s called by the epithet Atreides.