#you never know true fear til you read the word call

[wisecura]

Try the Priest

Suguru x f!reader

summary: Your best friend, Suguru Geto, has a warrant on his head. You hadn't heard from him since then, and you thought your friendship was as good as dead. So why is he on your front porch?

Warning: angst, spoilers, imposing Suguru

AN: So, I wanted to try something new. It’s not heavily proofread or flowy so please lemme know what you think. Not sure if I’ll continue with a part 2 yet

Someone you’d considered your friend.

Went to classes with. Assisted in missions with. Fought alongside—taking down a variety of curses. Patching each other up after particularly grueling missions. Sharing many late night hang out. Staying up late reading shitty quotes from your favorite terrible books. Laughing til your sides ached and tears pooled your eyes. Braiding his hair. Telling him secrets you’d never shared—not even with Satoru.

And it came with the territory.

Doing your best to pull him up from his down in the dumps energy. Noticing him sinking deeper into his mangled thoughts. Hugging him and telling him you were there for him if he ever needed. Begging him to just talk to you, and feeling utterly worthless when you couldn’t genuinely cheer him up. When it seemed he couldn’t confide in you. When it seemed he didn’t think of you the way you’d thought of him. Putting those feelings aside, because you couldn’t stand to see him so unhappy. Bringing him food when it seemed he just couldn’t remember to eat—long-since losing the urge. His mind lingering on the taste of each consumed curse. In his moments of hysteria, when he was curled up on your mattress—so lost and broken that you hardly recognized the man you once knew—he’d would finally confess those thoughts swirling in his mind.

Suguru Geto was someone you considered your best friend.

But you no longer recognized the man on the camera before you. The pale walls closing in on you. Photos strewn on corkboard. The man, you’d heard, slaughtered a village of people. assuming the leader role in an infamous cult. The same cult who incentivized Riko Armani’s death only months prior. You weren’t the only one absorbing this information, but it felt so personal. His betrayal. His defection. His indifference to you and the others.

But, more than anything, you’d felt so very guilty. The man you called your best friend—your closest friend, hadn’t relied on you in his darkest moments. Not really. You blamed yourself for this. For the deaths of hundreds. The look of pure agony on your second best friends face when he’d heard the news. Your lack of intervention when you’d seen him spiraling off the rocker. When he’d utter the word ‘filthy monkeys’ under his breath, like a broke record sputtering out. You been the only one around him during those times. When he’d lost all that weight, developing those dark circles on his normally handsome face. You had seen the signs, where even Satoru might not have. But you hadn’t thought he’d form an outlet like this. He’d lash out like this. You couldn't have known. They were both grieving in their own ways, after all.

‘—SUGURU GETO FLED. IN ACCORDANCE TO ARTICLE 9 OF THE JUJUTSU REGULATIONS, HE IS NOW CONSIDERED A CURSE USER AND SUBJECT-TO EXECUTION.’

You instinctively tune out the notice. Numbness seeping into your very fiber. The cold, frigid air of the underground cellar surrounding you. You’d never thought there’d be a day, not even in the deep recesses of your mind, that the righteous sweetheart, Suguru Geto, would be subject to an execution order. Let alone become the cause of hundred of innocent deaths, and the fear behind many. You desperately wanted to talk to him. Desperately wanted to see him again. Ask him if it was true. If it wasn’t a ploy to jerk the chains of the special grade sorcerers. But you were also hit with the small, yet so present, urge to ignore it. To pretend you hadn’t heard it and assume nothing was amiss. That this wasn’t actually happening. And that Suguru was lounging at your apartment, probably hogging the space of your couch. Taking over your bed space just to get on your nerves. Scavenging the snacks you secretly kept for him in your fridge. Or scrolling mindlessly through his phone at your kitchen table, teasingly asking you what took you so long to get back.

But that isn’t where you were. And that wasn’t what was going to happen. And Suguru Geto was a notorious murderer at large. He was as good as dead, along with those he now associates with.

In the months following, you…survived. You’d often have Satoru or Shoko over, they surprisingly took it better than you had. Satoru especially pain closer attention to your actions. Likely in response to missing all of the signs with Suguru. Or maybe because he knew just how close you two had been. You’d often zone out for days. Satoru would shovel spoonfuls of strawberry cake into your mouth, insisting that at least it was something. And at least you got your calories. You found yourself mistaking their presence, on more than one occasion, for Suguru’s. Which would lead to another breakdown that’d require fussing over. But you’ll give yourself credit here. You’d finally,after several long grueling months, set into your previous rhythm. You didn’t require as much maintenance—feeding and cleaning yourself. And you needed much less reassurance—no he wasn’t dead, yet.

Then you saw him. The shadow of a man that had been impersonating Suguru, was now restored to his full former glory. You’d almost thought you’d saw a ghost, opening the late night knocks like that. Standing right next to your pot of camellias, holding a few letters seemingly from your mailbox. A small grin crossing his face, as those eyes lit up oh-so-slightly at your appearance at the door.

Feeling far to nostalgic for comfort.

He looked good. Healthier. Stronger. You wanted to feel scared. Wanted your body to match your mind, to flee from this terror of a man that’s been causing you so much grief lately. But your body just didn’t respond to him that way. Refused to.

You felt a sigh of relief leave your lips, unwittingly, as you stared up into those purple eyes. You thought you’d never see those again. You thought the next time would be when he’d be lying on a steel table, draped in white linens. No—not again. Never alive.

“Suguru” you say to yourself, words nearly a whisper, with disbelief coating each syllable. He nods at you, his lips never dropping that eye capturing smile. “In the flesh.”

You stare at him for a moment, not sure how to react. Why was he here?

“What…what are you doing here?” Your voice strained, and though you didn’t want to admit it, you could feel the back of your throat well up slightly. You knew if you were t careful, you’d revert to the you from months before. You seemed to catch him off guard with your word, as he looked away, having the gal to come off shy.

“Can I come in?” After a second, you nod, peaking your head around the doorframe—your apartments walkway, not seeing a soul in sight. He stood firm as you come within touching distance of him, cautiously peering the corners, before taking a few steps aside to let him in.

As he steps through your front door, you’re left feeling…small. Unbearably so. He was always tall, but you’d never seen him so imposing. The Buddhist priest attire, though not entirely surprising, was so new. So different. And all the same, it made him much more intimidating. You continue stepping back a few paces as he makes his way inside, before he closes the door himself. He carries himself to your living room, your floor plan memorized. He’d been there—practically lived there—enough times in the years you’d known him.

This wasn’t a man you knew.

“Geto, you shouldn’t be here.” He gave small acknowledgement to the distinct line you drew in your words. You speech painfully formal, your tone a pressed politeness. The only hint of irritation showing in his shoulders and the way his smile tightened. Your name—your first name, fell from his lips in absolute familiarity. “Its been a while.”

You stare at him dumbfounded for a second, as he makes his way to your couch, settling in. As if you’d invited him in for an afternoon cup of tea. His energy took up the whole room, looking so out of place. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what he was doing.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet, here I am.”

“Why—why are you here, Geto.”

His eye finally trail back to you at the sound of your voice spitting his last name out, so coldly. He’d been taking in the space, searching for changes in his surroundings. Searching for changes in you.

“I can’t just visit an old friend?” Your arms tighten around yourself in a self soothing gesture. Nails biting into your skin. You pull your gaze from him, not able to maintain the somewhat defiant stare.

“You can’t just show up unannounced. If they find you here—“

“Still worrying about me?”

“It’s dangerous for you to be here. Not for you. Not for me. You should g—“

“I missed you.”

The words stalled your thought process. The words ringing in the air, not settling properly. He wasn’t the Suguru you remember. He was entirely different. But those words still carried that familiar softness, the one he’d always reserved for you or Satoru. The ones that never failed to melt your heart, and make you cave.

“You…missed me?” The silence strung through the air. Buzzing. His grin grew at the hesitation through your voice. The confusion. He leaned back into the couch, taking a lax stance that didn’t fit the unwelcome atmosphere. Far too confident in your opinion.

“Of course I missed you. Did you think I wouldn’t?” As if he wasn’t a mass murderer. As if he hadn’t left you and Satoru.

“I…” you stalled again. Just what were you supposed to say to that? To him? After all this time.

“Why are you really here, Geto.”

“Suguru.” You stare at him, in disbelief, eyes narrowing. “It’s Suguru. Don’t act like you don’t know me anymore.” He’s saying this as if it were the most important thing in the world. Not the fact that he was a wanted man.

“I don’t know you. And I don’t know why you’re here. Leave before I-“

“Before you what? Kill me?” The words were a sharp taunt. He knew you wouldn’t. Knew you couldn’t. Your chest tightened at the thought, his words a blade pressed against your neck. You muttered out, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

And, ignoring you, he persists. “You won’t though. Will you?” The challenge there. “That’s not who you are.”

“You don’t decide who I am.” You nearly hiss, “you of all people don’t get to walk in here, acting like nothing has changed. Like everything’s okay—like we’re okay.” His eyes darkened at your words, and his smile faded.

“I never said nothing has changed. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk. After everything we’ve been through-“

“Everything we've been through?” His words felt so thoughtless at the time, not entirely realizing the provoking nature. You were practically shouting at this point. “You mean everything you walked away from? Everything you destroyed?”

He didn’t even flinch. His voice calm and firm, “I didn’t come back to argue. I came back to see you.”

“Why?” The word burst from your mouth, raw and sharpened with each emotion you’d felt since he’d left. The thoughts and feeling piling up by the second. His words inciting another to add to the pot. “Why me? After everything—after everyone—why did you come here?”

His eyes remained fixed on you for a moment. Your shouting hadn’t fazed him in the slightest. He’d had to have expected it. You’re almost panting, each nerve ending abuzz. Boarding on another mental breakdown.

When he finally did speak, his voice was lower. Almost hesitant. “Because you’re the only one I can’t leave behind.” You search his face, desperately searching for a hint of deception. Searching for a lie. But this man was never one for lying, at least he hadn’t been.

Your voice comes out a whisper, shaky and somewhat wound up, “That’s not fair. You don’t get to say that. Not after what you’ve done.” You could feel the build up behind your eyes. Red, hot, and unwitting. You held back as much as you could, showing him no weakness. But you’d already failed in that aspect. Much like how you failed in the ending of your friendship with him.

“I know it isn’t fair.” His voice about as soft and quiet as yours now. “But it’s the truth. I couldn’t do it. I tried.”

The room was much too suffocating. Your eyes much to hot. His confession hitting like a sucker punch to the jaw. The meaning behind his words, shallowly beneath the surface tension. But you wouldn’t be reaching for it. You felt so utterly worn—which is such a shame since you’d finally been getting back to a somewhat normal pace.

Here comes this man, crashing back in and challenging your every moral—your very being once again. You mustered up the courage—mustered up the strength to set him straight. To set yourself straight.

“You should go.” Barely audible. Yet the silence of the room reverberated each word, clearly. His eyes tried to catch your gaze, as you made it you mission to get him out of there as quickly as possible. Save that sanity.

“Do you really want me to?”

“Yes.” You respond immediately, but it sounded so hallow. Automated, at best. Even to you.

“Then tell me to leave. Tell me to get out of your life. Now. Tell me you don’t miss me. That you don’t want me here.”

Your throat tightened up, a lump forming that was impossible to swallow. Each line he gave, more abrasive than the last. You open your mouth ready to deal that final blow—reaffirm those words, but closed it again. He watched you closely, his expression unreadable. For the first time, you’re coming to terms with just how much you missed him. Just how deeply you cared for him. Your best friend. Your closest confidant. Your high school crush. Your everything. There was so much left unspoken between you two. Were you ready to throw it away? Would you lose your standing in the sorcerer world and be exiled too? Would you be okay with that?

“I thought so.” He said, a hint of satisfaction staining his tone. You try to ignore the tears threatening to spill over. The thoughts racing in your head. You physically pull away, your back finally to him. You can’t stand to see his face, let alone handle this situation right now.

You loved Suguru Geto. And it seemed he felt something for you.

Your back stayed to him. For a moment that stretched far too long, neither of you spoke a word. His last words were left floating in you’re head. Had it really been as hard for him to leave as it had been for you? You found the love for him deep below the anger and betrayal. But that didn’t mean you could act on it. It didn’t mean things weren’t different now.

Pulling you from your thoughts, you felt warmth at your back, before you had even felt his energy. Your breath hitched as his arms enveloped you. He was so close. Too close. Yet you couldn’t pull yourself away from the comforting gesture. You tilted you head back, hoping to catch the expression on his face, only to find those dark eyes already watching you. He was taller now. Much taller than before.

“Suguru, what are you doing?” Your voice trembling, much weaker than you wanted it to be. He didn't answer immediately, opting to watch you longer. His grip tightened around you, almost testing to see if you’d push him away. His head dipped to the shell of your ear, “Just…reminding myself.” Before settling into the crook of your shoulder. The hesitation was clear in his voice, making him sound much more…docile than a man that’d slaughtered an entire village or taken over a destructive religious cult. You almost felt yourself stiffen at the overly familiar contact.

His warm, earthy scent filled your lungs, encoating you in its sentimentality. You’d missed this too. You’d missed him. Your body settled for you, before you could pull from him. Before you could think of why you should be cautious around him. And the thought flowed from you lips before you could even process the desire to carry on this conversation with him. “Of what?”

“…That you’re real.” Your heart clenched painfully at his confession. You’d been wondering the same thing the second you saw him in your doorway.

This didn’t feel real. Maybe another nightmare featuring yours truly, maybe you could expect a ringing gunshot through the room. An astounding thud. Only to find him collapsed on the floor behind you, his blood soaking your pajamas.

His head dug deeper into the crook of your neck, almost nuzzling—as if he’d seen your thoughts. But he wasn’t aware just how much he’d put you through.

“Suguru…” you tried to sound firm, angry even—

“I know.”

You let out a sigh. Were you even angry anymore? Was this sadness flooding your chest? Sympathy? Love? Desperation?

“I know I don’t deserve this. But for a moment.” His voice even and constant, before breaking. “Please, for a moment let’s stay like this.”

come home

[ritavonbees]

the empath in fantasy and science fiction receives accurate information about the emotions of people around them, just as the telepath accesses true, unmediated information about others' thoughts. The fantasy of pure understanding has strong appeal for those of us who have struggled with communication, miscommunication and its consequences. (I wonder how much crossover there is with the group of people who find misunderstanding-based comedies of errors too cringe.) you can still put misunderstanding in empath/telepath stories, of course, because this information is fractal - it isn't fully knowable because there's no hard line between feeling, thought, memory, bodily sensation, relationships, context. but in real life you have to rely on secondary sources about that data, which adds infinitely more complexity. you can see how it would be nice to just know something instead of trying to hold, like, a Bayesian probability graph in your head to represent someone else's opinion and expected behaviour.

the fear hand in hand with the fantasy, though - that's a different order of thing, isn't it? the empath/telepath overwhelmed by the interiority of others, who needs to put the work in to raise mental walls, who isn't sure where they end and others begin, that's much closer to the bone.

because you don't need magically accurate information to be overwhelmed, to muddy your identification, to exhaust yourself constantly interpreting - you can do that already. if your brain is constantly generating guesses about what other people are thinking or feeling, it can burn glucose til the cows come home processing its own guesses and having feelings about them.

a long time ago my teacher told me poetry isn't a visual medium but that's not what the poets say. when I've got the cognitive fatigue real bad I flinch away from signs. reading burns energy like breathing. I've got no filter between eyes and mind, I'm interpreting signals before I've had a chance to decide if I want to. by contrast, I sometimes need to hear a sentence two or three times to bring meaning out of sounds. that's energy too, of course - sometimes more energy, because I've got to rotate the thing in short term memory until it clicks, or ask you to repeat yourself and then explain that no, not louder, just again. but sometimes I choose to let it slide, and I've never managed to look at something without trying to read it.

when I'm hyperfocused, I think my brain hits pause on those processes - not seeing, not hearing, although the light and sound are coming in just fine. they just aren't leaving marks. that's how I can hide from the world in a game or a story. but I can't just flip the switch inside my head because I'm tired and not today Satan the whole alphabet while I'm walking through the city - if I don't want to pour myself into the written word indiscriminately I've got to take my phone out or my glasses off and risk walking into things.

interpreting social signals is a kind of reading too, and a much more difficult one for me, more energy intensive. can't switch that one off either, although it is much easier to distract me from it when there's something else to think about. can neurodivergent people without ADHD regulate their attention more effectively? choose not to interpret something to conserve energy?

the funny thing about all those people calling themselves "empaths" in real life - that was a thing for a while, wasn't it? the funny thing was them insisting their interpretations of other people's feelings were true and real just like in the stories. I imagine some people do have a higher accuracy rate than others in certain contexts and communities, but we are all guessing. there's a reason the psychologists talk about "mind-reading" as a cognitive trap. the call is coming from inside the house.

and yet it's not a weird thing to want. this is how we're wired. other people's thoughts and feelings have a material effect on our lives. Maybe we can't stop guessing, but we can choose what we do about our guesses, can't we?

[boybasher]

An-o-rexic Feelings 💋 (my eat-ing-dis-order and trauma poem reading and thrift store style look book)

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my poem:

Anorxxic palm trees

Just like me

Black streets and smokey eyes

No one’s out at this time

Midnight is our sunrise

I’ll take your breath

If you ignite me

Light me up, til I burn alive

Fire in my hands

Warmth in my eyes

I’m not so dead inside

I play empty

To

Forget my regret

Let us remember ourselves tonight

Never been the Barbie doll

Was never skinny enough

And god I’ve tried

Skip my meals

And throwing them up

All the boys I shared

All the men I kissed

Counting my sins

I lose count after 3,000

Does God Think I’m A Slvt?

What’s the point of dreaming

When we can make them come true

I’ll be your secret wish

Pull me in and I’ll show you

All what I can do

I started early, and not by choice

Morphed me into something dirty

But I’m Somebody’s Dream

So what do you say

Wanna take a bite out of this Rotten Cherry

I’m loose with my body

I’ve been around

Everyone’s gotten a taste

I’m not worn out, just lived in

Stuck in my skin

Let me out

With a few inches and a shout

The ultimate sin

Love Before Marriage

Mommy’s Mistake

So I guess you can be my daddy

If you get cold

I’ll lend you my coat

Know you’ll love my perfume

I only spray half the bottle

Cat Calls from across the street

Burnt foil and broken glass on the floor

Welcome Home

Fuck toxic positivity and comatosed living

Taking selfies in the sunlight

God doesn’t have a bed time

So why should I?

I gotta brain

But forget to use it

Burden to everybody

How the hell do I get by

Ducking my head

As I chase the pavement

The only type of guys that want me

Kiss me with their eyes closed

And leave just as fast as they come

They come and they come

But never stay

What do i expect

I don’t even know how to drive

Without causing a traffic jam

Such a shame for the good guys who want a housewife pet

I don’t know how to clean, unless I’m angry and OCD

I wake up with glitter all over my face

Lipstick on my tooth brush

I keep swiping left and right

Scrolling the boredom away

Maybe this one can change my life

Calling a dead number

A disconnected pay phone

God only answers if you plead

That’s what I was taught

Live in fear

Bask in angst

Never use his name in vain

But god are you really always listening?

I wait for your heads up

A nudge on the shoulder

A “this songs playing just for me”

I’m sorry for wasting my youth

But how does one measure growth if not in size

I promise I’m not a waste of a life

Not dead beat like my dad

Forgive me as I light this gentle flower

For some false power

“Forgive me”

I say in my mind

To get me to sleep

Living as River Phoenix

In that gay movie

Making a quick buck with my little tricks

The lead role in nobody’s movie

Tell me the camera loves me

Give me a reason to wear my pretty

I’ll stay open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week

If you undress me with words like poetry

But I’m not studied

But I’ll let you study me

I don’t wanna change but I’ve changed

Still as young as yesterday

Still as naïve as tomorrow

You try to see the good in everything

I just see the truth

I’m not playing ball

Acting like god chose me

Or did I trap myself?

In a body

Once again

Another lifetime of wasted potential

Can’t waste my youth this time

Don’t wanna die old

But it’s written in the stars for me to live til I’m like 80

Just like my granddaddies

A generational curse

A karmic gift

To age with beauty

Or change your name and start from scratch

I’ll be your dark baby

But c’mon I’m way too pretty to be treated like a piece of f-cking meat

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poem: An-o-rexic Feelings by dark baby, (2023).

[iwasntstable]

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT [projects] ﹂ [my-work] | in-progress | favourites 　﹂ all | series | [one-shot] | blurb | head-cannons | ask 　　﹂ fear-of-failure | nightmare |never-just-friends 　　　 stay-til-morning | new-neighbour | see-more...

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🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/FEAROFFAILURE

◾title; fear of failure. ◾rating; sfw. ◾type; one shot. ◾word count; 2.7k. ◾tags; #angst #emotional-hurt/comfort #fluff #poor-mental-health

summary: You don’t know why, but Noah has been withdrawing into himself again, and you’re worried this steady decline will end in disaster. You resolve to pull him out again, knowing he can’t continue like this much longer.

[READ] | [AO3]

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/NIGHTMARE

◾title; nightmare. ◾rating; sfw. ◾type; one shot. ◾word count; 3k. ◾tags; #emotional-hurt/comfort #fluff

summary: You experiences an intense and terrifying nightmare, luckily Noah is there to bring you round and make sure you're okay.

[READ] | [AO3]

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/NEVERJUSTFRIENDS

◾title; never just friends ◾rating; nsfw. ◾type; one shot. ◾word count; 5.6k. ◾tags; #smut #fluff #descriptive-smut #multiple-orgasms #aftercare

summary: Your best friend had a bad day, you know how to help fix that. But are these hook-ups too much for your heart to bear when you desperately want more?

[READ] | [AO3]

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/STAYTILMORNING

◾title; stay 'til morning ◾rating; sfw. ◾type; one shot. ◾word count; 3.8k. ◾tags; #best-friend!noah #fluff #emotional-hurt/comfort #idiots-being-stupid

summary: Noah never stays until morning, lest the guilt from lying about the depth of his feelings for you destroys him. But the lies both of you tell yourselves are beginning to crumble under the weight of your yearning for more of each other. What will happen when, for the first time, Noah stays past the sunrise?

[READ] | [AO3]

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ASK/NEWNEIGHBOUR

◾title; new neighbour ◾rating; sfw. ◾type; ask from anon - one shot. ◾word count; 3.1k. ◾tags; #fluff

summary: Noah as your neighbour in an apartment building.

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🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/IFIMTHERE

◾title; if i'm there ◾rating; sfw. ◾type; one shot. ◾word count; 3.8k. ◾tags; #angst #emotional-hurt/comfort #poor-mental-health #mentions-of-disordered-eating #discussions-of-food #self-destructive-behaviour #fluff

summary:  When things start getting bad, you withdraw. ignoring calls and texts, and descending into bad habits as you self-isolate. But Noah knows what you're like and he loves you too much to let you suffer alone.

[READ] | [AO3]

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/HAPPYBIRTHDAY

◾title; happy birthday ◾rating; sfw. ◾type; one shot. ◾word count; 2.5k. ◾tags; #fluff #fluff #fluff

summary:  Sometimes lying is okay when it's planning a birthday surprise for the birthday-hating man you love.

[READ] | [AO3]

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/ISITTRUE

◾title; is it true? ◾rating; sfw. ◾type; one shot. ◾word count; 3.1k. ◾tags; #fluff #a-smidge-of-angst #slight-miscommunication

summary:  Always stubborn, Noah refuses to take a break when he's sick, but everyone's convinced you can persuade him.

[READ] | [AO3]

+[MSG : keep up to date with my >> in progress << list.]

[dontyoufinditstrange]

Rookery Lyrics That Alter My Brain Chemistry

The Birth of Worlds:

"what did i do to make you feel some hope?" "we tried to stay close but then we lost it all" "we both used to think we won't end up completely unknown" "we are alone and always will be" "there isn't such a thing as regret"

Watershed:

"i'll light it all up" "it's a small world built for you" "applause the illunsionist" "i thought alot about what we came here for" "better not set your lungs on fire" "i'll build a wall a thousand feet high around my bed to keep the bloom out of my head" "where do we go after all?" "what do you hope for most of all?"

Heat Up:

"here's to our feelings and our yearning" "why do we breathe in? i'll never learn it" "for lovers in the night time, they move, they move, like fireflies. i wanna move too, i wanna move with you" "here's to the living, it's always worth it" "you make my soul heat up" "say do you miss me?" "i want the truth otherwise i'm gonna panic" "you got the key to shape the law of statics" "i'm often scared when in the rookery"

Very Soon You'll See:

"let's smile emotionlessly" "i'll beat the truth out of me" "flames in every word i read" "i'm the king of convenience" "i'm still gonna be out of hand" "i could be alone with me" "let me know why the hell we're here together" "the moon circles around the sun" "it's finally happening everything i've ever dreamed of" "i want your love"

Misinterpretations:

"what a time to be fine and to try to feel miserable" "misinterpretations in every breath i take" "another day on earth to try to make sense of other lives" "when i look back i think i'll say it was worth a try" "how long can i fake it?" "how long til they hate me?" "more of what i cannot grasp" "tell me why should i believe in what my eyes can't see" "throwin up thoughts i thought were mine"

Silence:

"silly words only make it worse" "i will be with you" "i wanna break the silence but it is so beautiful"

What I Know Is All Quicksand:

"they put me in a cage to see what happens when you put one in a cell without an escape plan" "if i lose my mind before the first attempt, oh, i'll never be free again" "i have all these dark dreams they come down like concrete" "i'll name it to tame it" "i barely understand" "but all i thought i knew has been turned upside down" "i don't have a clue what it means to drown" "and what i mean to you i'll never figure out" "all the noise in here got way too loud" "i don't need reasons to be alone"

Wild Stare:

"we're steady apart" "time is a gift, praying for the fog to lift" "at times i swim til i shiver" "it is you, the skies are open" "full joy for my trussed soul"

Head By Head:

" i don't know what the hell is going on" "swimming deep beneath the foam" "they watch my spirit bow down" "they can't freeze the time" "they cannot steal our fire" "call me up, i'll calm you down, you pull me in, i'll pull you out cause we don't have to do it all alone" "the sadness drink you took too much of it" "and when you fall give me a call" "some like digging holes, we'll just fly above" "my mind used to hide but those times are over now"

All We Are:

"the fear we used to drown" "all we are is true i can read it in your eyes as we're catching fire" "would you take my hand before everything will come to an end?"

Into Your Arms:

"there is not a single face we have to hide" "what we are feels so easy" "i'm falling into you, it ain't nothing new, the mirror of our youth" "do you sleep or do you pray?" "i got lost in yesterday" "i wanna fall into your arms where i could hide til kingdom come" "in five years keep it real the chance that we both will be lying here is small as a mosquito" "those worlds i've built went down they finally turned to dust. i'll remember and mark my words that i painted in the dust" "you want me to feel okay, i feel bad because i ain't" "i followed you down the path to the sinkholes of our past" "maybe it will be enough"

[intpconvos]

INTP *trying* to book a resort accommodation

INTP: What are your rates?

Resort: *lists out rates and other info* Let us know if you'd like us to explain further, please leave us your number and we'll reach out through call

INTP: *heartbeat quickens*

INTP: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[gav-san]

THE QUEEN OF THE KING 14/15

Previous/Next

It's warmer here, near the desert. 

You aren’t sure when exactly you left Hyrule, never having reason to leave the confines of the country, but you know that you are not there. The small villages you sneak around contain no flags or ensigns, and the people talk in ways and with words that aren’t familiar. You’re not taking any main road, paths of dirt are far more common than stone.

You grimly wonder if an even more primitive manner of living awaits you if you make it to the mysterious Gerudo City. What would living in the desert entail? Hiding under boulders in those sealskin tents, everyday sand creeping in your clothes, having to watch for terrible things who want to make a home in your shoes? That your buttox is in a consistent state of pain?

You had even given in to wearing a veil, like a true Gerudan woman, but only because it was the best way to save your face from burning under the increasing heat.

The stories the Gerudo women have told you with smirks no longer are so strange or jesting. What if they were the truth? Would you have to so soon come to terms with your own ignorance and pride?

“My moon, look aloft. The spires of my forefathers.” He says, pointing to the distant mountain peaks that had grown over the ride. You do your best to be unimpressed, not wanting him to know this was your first time seeing such mammoth rocks. The ones in Hyrule now looked like gentle hills!

“Are they so tall to keep thieving Gerudo in?” You say sharply, giving your best to appear as haughty as you can. It’s the worst insult you know, sharpened to hurt him as best you can.

There was a lot of time to ponder these things, riding aloft the mighty black horse of the Gerudo King. Ganondorf, as he wanted you to call him, did his best to capture your attention. He seemed to be able to read your mind, and unfortunately, the fears deep inside. 

The worst part isn't all in vain. He is successful, in part because you are bored but mostly because he is an excellent conversationalist.

“Or to keep rogue princesses in.” He replies lightly, not falling for your bait.

How you hated how charmingly intelligent he was. There would never be a day when you wouldn’t be entertained!

Witty, clever, and educated to an absurd extent he is exactly the sort of knife you like to sharpen yourself against. But unlike most with those qualities, he doesn’t cut when he finds himself.

You pause, jaw left open.

You realize that despite everything, you are having fun. Real, genuine enjoyment just speaking to him. You aren’t bored or tired or even offended. He has navigated you better than you can understand!

And more so, you weren’t the only one.

Occasionally when you do come across a traveler it becomes apparent that you aren’t the only one who finds him delightful. Strangers do stop and stare at your spectacle, a male Gerudo adorned in gold, pulling a giant black demon horse with an angry, sunburnt fairy in matching silks.

Not even you can deny the absurdity of your situation. 

For those that do recognize him, it’s even worse. You think you might be saved when you first see the group of men, riding their horses. They appear to be a mix of both Lanyruan merchants, with their carts, and as soon as they see you they start catcalling. 

Not at you, but the Gerudo King.

“Desert-man!” They say, comfortably approaching, “How good to see you, Gerudo King!” Another called, “Where are your fair retainers?” 

Your eyes stay wide as they pay you little attention, entirely fixed on the King. The foremost gives a deep bow as you approach. 

“Beedle, fine to see you this day.” The Gerudo King says, placing his large palm on his chest and nodding. 

“King Ganondorf! I’m surprised to see you alone on this back road! Are you here to trade?” He says, black eyes bright. Ganondorf smiles, moving to the side and holding a hand out to the merchant who enthusiastically shakes it.

You blink, flabbergasted at the strange friendship 

“Alas, I am not,” He tilts his head, but doesn’t quite move out of the way to fully reveal you on his horse. You glance down to the ground, wondering if it’s possible to dismount the horse and steal one of theirs. 

The man’s eyes widen, so big they look like tea plates, round and white. 

He bows again, arms to his sides.

“My apologies. I hadn’t realized you had gotten married, King Ganondorf.” He says, and you gasp. “I shall gift my finest specimens.” He has turned, opening up a large box and you almost gag. Inside are a variety of thick bugs, pinned to the back like some macabre show.

You are about to chastise him, but your ‘husband’ intercedes, pulling Beetle and his disguising bug box aside.

“Ah my friend, your fine gift honors us both, but we are traveling light,” Beetle nodded, not being the slightest bit offended. “Next time you are at the Gerudo Market I shall accept your trade and give you my best dyes in return. But my bride and I must be on our way.”

The man nods, placing his hands together, thrilled. His companions look awestruck and jealous.

You aren’t sure what warrants this level of awe, but it’s clear that these are Gerudo Allies, though you think they should be yours.

So you keep your mouth shut.

After you had left in different directions you couldn’t help but satisfy your curiosity.

“I didn’t think Gerudo Town let in any males.” You said, thinking back to how you promised to seduce one, and his resounding rebuttal.

“You are right,” Ganondorf replies, moving to stand by your side. Even with you riding on his large horse, his height is impressive. He holds his hands aloft, and you let him take your waist so you can dismount. Standing on the ground your legs feel shaky, but you are glad for the rest. “But at the first outpost, before entering the desert we hold a large marketplace every two weeks during summer. That way traders can come to us without having to risk the desert until it is cool enough for the Oasis Marketplace to be opened. There are more adventurous travelers but few.”

“Sounds complicated.” You say, watching him unpack. You accept a woven blanket, finding two bare trees that it can be strung between, making quick work to set up your hammock in a victory for all independent women. 

You aren’t as ready to collapse as days before, but the thud you make when both you and the hammock hit the ground gives him reason to chuckle. You don’t even bother getting up, and the King easily strings you and the hammock more tightly.

Once he’s done you lazily wave a hand and he goes and fetches your watch and some of the jerky he’s saved. You take both gladly, scarfing them down much to his amusement. He lifts his hand as if to caress your hair, only to pull it back before he touches you. It makes you feel bereft for some reason you shove deep down.

“How are you, my moon?” He says softly, eyes Milton gold as he looks to your feet, and shortly, your rear end. It’s clear he knows that you’ve been biting back your pain.

Your groan is enough confirmation, and he goes to pull out the blister gel.

—X—

You don’t remember the name of the first ‘shrine’ you come across, and you’re not even sure you know what exactly a ‘shrine’ is. You’ve of course heard of the Spirit Temple, along with the ‘Temple of Time’ and other mysterious old ruins. They dotted Hyrule as well, but you hadn’t had much interest in them, nor had even looked at one up close before.

So when you find yourselves approaching something like a gray toe with a long nail sticking up out of the ground, it is a bit underwhelming. 

You make a noise in the back of your throat as Ganondorf pulls the black horse, and he glances back with a highly amused look. It strikes you that things have become very comfortable between you both, far too quickly. 

You had been trying to be as cool as possible after waking in his arms again, knowing that it had indeed been you who had crawled into his warm embrace. Again. It turns out desert nights were not warm, but freezing cold.

It makes your cheeks warm, almost sting, to know how wanton you have been. You want to escape, you tell yourself over and over. You have to! This man has kidnapped you, a great princess! 

But under the smooth veneer that you desperately cling to, there is something in you that ignited when you first saw the Gerudo King. Something bubbling under the surface that brooked no pretty lies you can fool yourself with.

It scares you, that thing.

So you sniff loudly, twisting your head away, and he gives an audible laugh. Shifting your brows, and mouth purse you hold back the smile his laughter brings. But in a moment you don’t need to hold it back, because it’s completely gone.

Because you can see the path you’re going to have to take to get to the blasted thing, pardon your language. 

Because the path to the shrine finished at the end of the most unstable-looking rock you’ve ever seen, filled with curves and turns that would make an experienced climber cry.

“Never fear, my moon. I promise that you shan’t be disappointed inside.” He replies to your disdain, even misguided as he is as he leads down the winding tunnel.

“Are you not tired?” You ask as he navigates the path, not a trail of sweat coming off of him as he bounds down, in an extremely good mood. 

“How can I not possibly be?” He says, only glancing back a moment. “I am with you.” It’s enough to make those butterflies in your stomach begin flying with attention. Oh yes, your butterflies love his attention. He gives a low chuckle.

You clear your throat knowing it’s not just the fictional butterflies that enjoy his throaty voice.

Instead, you focus on things you know will keep you bothered. The rocky path, the way your rear hurts in the saddle, the uncomfortable pink where the sun hits your skin, veil notwithstanding. You want to wail the loss of your carefully manicured visage.

You look to the cliff side realizing it isn't a perfectly smooth wall. There are many pathways, carved into the deep rivets and winding deep into the mountain. A heavy sense of something tangible rests on you.

It isn’t until you reach the bottom that you can name it.

It takes a surprisingly short time for you both to reach the bottom, and in the shade, you hold your arms until Ganondorf can fish out your bear covering that you reluctantly pull on.

You can’t help but be glad for the cool air inside the mouth of the shrine, though it makes your sweat feel uncomfortably cool. It’s here you can see the deep blue glow intertwined with the shrine’s stone.

“It feels… sacred here.” You say to Ganondorf as he softly helps you down until you balance steadily on your feet. 

He nods, looking pleased.

“Yes. We have long believed that the old sheik who served the great goddesses built these shrines so that those who entered would be given a test that they must pass to gain enlightenment.”

You blanch, and he chuckles.

“Have no fear, my moon. I have already entered all the shrines here in Gerudo as all things do. For the Kings and Queens of the Desert, it is a right of passage. Now they are only used for ceremonial washing and marriage cleansings for the couples.”

You blink.

“Marriage cleansings? We’re not just going to… wash in separate areas?” 

He grins wolfishly, leading you to the mouth of the shrine, rather quick for his laid-back nature.

“They say that the fated couple who binds themselves together in the waters of the sacred shrines, then present themselves at the Spirit Temple will gain the power to wipe away the calamity of the world.” You press your lips together, your nerves starting to build as he presses a hand against the stone, almost wrapping you into his embrace doing so.

It lights up bright orange, startling you into jumping back into him. You latch onto him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He softly returns the embrace, looking both concerned and thrilled.

A panel in front of you slides away, revealing a black hole where it seems like you’re just supposed to trot in.

You turn up to him, hands digging into his arms.

“If you are going to sacrifice me, I am taking this moment to object.” You hiss. He thinks you’re joking again, because he laughs, gently pushing you inside.

The entrance closes behind you when you are both inside but it isn’t the pitch black that you expected. The soft orange glow is inside as well, leading down a deep path into the rock. Slowly Ganondorf coaxes you down it until you reach the bottom. 

You enter the overlarge room, eyes wide. 

The room is lit in a soft blue glow, from strange, cut rocks from the ceiling. Crystals are at every corner, aloft tall spires exiting the perfectly smooth pool that fills most of the room.  

You don’t need to be prompted to go forward and stick a toe in.

You yip at the cold.

“What in the!”

“Water, especially cold water, is precious in the desert.” The King says, wasting no time in taking off the long strip of silk that crosses his chest.

“Wha- What are you doing?!?” You cry out, and he raises a brow, stepping in as if the water had been heating on the stove to a pleasant temperature.

“The water can only accept those with a willing heart and mind,” Ganondorf says, his thighs already engulfed. You watch as the thin, silky fabric goes dark and saturates the deeper he goes, something dangerous and terrible inside prompting you to stare unabashedly. You shouldn’t look but there is no stopping, watching as his abs flex as the cool water hits them, the way goosebumps pimple his flesh.

“In order to survive the desert without the special skin and constitution of the Gerudo, this holy water must be visited.” He pauses for a moment. “No sunburn.”

You raise an arm, chuckling, eyes narrowed.

There are parts of him revealed you cannot speak of, but you don’t turn away. 

Instead, your feet move.

You’re in the water before you realize it, and even then you’re sure you wouldn’t break from your trance but it’s the coldest water you’ve ever felt. You automatically try and calculate how long until you lose feeling and are in threat of hypothermia- but your mind stops cold.

Ganondorf has his hand out to you. 

And you can feel his heat, almost boiling in this pool of ice.

He’s only standing a few feet away but the ground looks like it drops off, enough for the water to be at his clavicle. His hair has been let loose, falling into the water and surrounding him like a circle of flames. Droplets bead down his jaw, winking in the mysterious light of the crystal walls.

“Come my queen.” He commands, “Think no more of those people who don’t appreciate and can’t love you I see. I wish to worship you.”

Who are you to resist such passion?

.

.

.

You’re not sure that the ceremony you just went through is legally binding, but for the first time in your life, you feel bound. Not captured, violated, and dirty, a prisoner to some system you can’t overcome. But you feel safe, like a chick under its mother’s fluffy feathers. 

It seems that you spend hours in the embrace of the Gerudo King, the water lapping at the edges of your searing skin. You almost believe that you have been reborn anew. 

“The moon is brighter here, I think.” You mutter under the stars. “Hyrule is always cloudy. I do love the rain but at the expense of the stars?”

You had finally exited the shrine, choosing to camp next to it. And tonight, you didn’t bother waiting for a reason to lay on him. It was so much warmer to snuggle up together.

“It does rain in the desert, for around a month every year.” Ganondorf murmurs sleepily, “It just pours and pours. It’s quite the problem because it washes away the sand.”

You turn, tapping a finger on his chest.

“When I first became a princess of Hyrule Castle I wanted to help the people from the country that I loved, just like my own parents. I didn’t just want to parade around, so I decided to study with the most eminent tutors who would accept a girl. My uncle thought it was fine. I remember reading in a report something about how the deep slopes of the caldera, next to the village of the Gorgon had an unusual amount of rain one year. One of our most learned men found that if he placed sandbags measured with a specific mix of both rocks, dirt, and sand, that it absorbed the excess water.”

You pause, a bit sharply. It causes Ganondorf to look at you.

“I apologize. I hardly think such a topic is suitable for the moment.” You say, voice getting soft. It causes Ganondorf to shift, twisting so you rest on his chest. It makes you shy to try and look into his eyes, but he brings your chin back, holding your gaze.

“I love hearing you talk.” He says with no guile. “The world would be a much worse place without your voice in it.”

Tears fill your eyes.

You give a sad smile.

“The world is no place for such things anymore.” You say. 

“You told you that? Who dared say anything to hurt you?” You blink, surprised at the venom in his eyes. Not for you, but for whoever hurt you. “Give me the name, and whoever hurt you shall be dealt with.”

“I think I have left those things behind me.” You struggle to form the right words, turning to sit up and sliding off him. “They no longer matter.”

Ganondorf isn’t dissuaded, sitting up to follow you.

“Everything about you matters to me.” He replies like it’s only natural. “Tell me everything.” Your throat catches, and you struggle to breathe. 

If he had pushed you any further, had tried holding you like you were a baby, you would have shut your mouth and may never have spoken again. 

But he just listens. 

And so you tell him, everything that has ever happened to you. 

-X-

He isn’t sure when he goes to sleep. He had thought himself alert enough to wait one more night until he reached the outpost. He shouldn’t have waited, should have let you kiss him later. The was so much danger that he didn’t want to inflict on his beloved. 

He should’ve waited.

But how could he have?

Not when you told him of your entire life. Not when you have revealed how alone you had felt since the death of your parents. How you had been assaulted by the Archduke, and how you had contrived since that day to overcome every enemy you had ever met.

How you had received a dream about delaying your marriage but only after being almost forced into a tenuous marriage with several men. 

“And your dream.” He said, remembering you looking at him so vulnerable when he asked such a question. Your hair was still wet, clinging around your fair face, and you brushed it out of your lashes, blinking as you did so. 

“A meaningful existence.” You close your eyes, letting your arms reach the cool air around you. “For freedom to be myself.”

You lay asleep, your glorious hair spread like a halo of light, still curled from the water. And looking at you so free and unbound by the thick Hyrulian dresses and crowns made his spirit soar, putting his heart at rest.

So just like that, he fell asleep. 

And he only woke up at the attack of the Yiga Clan.

[aftgficrec]

what are your (new or old) fake dating andreil favs?

Love some fake dating!  Here’s a nice long list of previously recommended fics from which we’ve pulled some favourites, plus some new fics getting their first mention here.  Have a great time reading! - S

Also see …

long cute fake dating here

fake dating (K)andreil here

‘In My Defense, I Have None’ here (completed) (feat. fake dating Jean & Neil, leading to Andreil)

‘Let the bells ring on a fool’s holiday’, ‘I Found Love Where It Wasn’t Supposed to Be’ and ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Felon’ here

‘You've Begun to Feel Like Home’ here

‘Fake It ’Til You Make It’ here

‘Married to the Game’ here

‘At The Prince's Behest’ here

‘Bittersweet & Sugar Free’ here

‘Friday Night Big Screen’ here

‘Wanted: Random Guy’ here

‘For Better or For Worse’ here

‘Heaven We're Already Here’ here

‘Chemistry Experiments’ here

‘The Bodyguard’ here

‘Like A River’ here

‘I'll Follow You (into the light)’ here

‘If it puts food on the table then so be it.’ here

‘stone heart (broken open)’ here

New recs:

A Thousand For a Kiss & Fifty Cents For Your Soul by NikNak22 [Rated M, 11619 words, incomplete, last updated July 2022]

Neil Josten and Andrew Minyard, two movie stars in their own right, have never had the pleasure of working together - and neither is sure if this is a good or a bad thing. But when Kevin Day comes calling, providing a unique opportunity, they both jump at it. Cautiously, they begin filming together for the first time on set, both slow to trust and quick to deny the spark burning between them.

But as time goes on, neither can continue pretending that what they feel is an act. That they're merely playing a part. Not when they've both been given a glimpse of what can happen when you overcome the fear of being known and finally let someone else in.

tw: panic attacks, tw: homophobia

racing hearts by josten_minyard [Rated T, 3486 words, complete, Aftg Summer Exchange 2022]

Andrew asks Neil to go on a date - only, it's a fake date, to enter a running competition (couples only) for a chance to win the golden prize of a month of free ice cream. Still, Neil will take what he can get.

Now, if only he could get his stupid feelings under control.

Fire and Ice by alexis_needs_sleep [Not Rated, 26400 words, complete, 2022]

Andrew was Neil’s best friend in the whole world. When his usual friend-date canceled on him, he knew Andrew would be the perfect person to keep him company at his track team's banquet. What started as one friend-date spiraled into several dates and an entire fake relationship, which Neil was 100% sure was the most convincing fake relationship that ever existed. All he had to do was not tell Andrew that he was actually in love with him the whole time. Easy enough, right?

Just for Show by butitknewme [Rated T, 1294 words, incomplete, last updated June 2022]

alison turned abruptly towards andrew from her perch on a stool, and asked suddenly: “is it true you’re dating neil?”

neil was, in that moment, infinitely grateful for andrew’s persistent poker face and their friends’ collective inability to see past it. to neil, he saw the slow blink, the register of surprise, the flick of his eyes toward neil’s. to alison, all she saw was unshakeable apathy.

“yes.”

though the answer shouldn’t have come as a surprise (neil knows how much andrew loves to create chaos, and how unwilling he would be to throw neil under the bus), the easy response still sent a jolt down neil’s spine. it must be because it's the first time he’s heard andrew lie.

masking his own surprise, he turned to nicky and alison, hands spread before him. “see? i can’t believe you guys thought i was lying.”

----

or the one in which neil josten fake dates his best friend andrew minyard... and it goes about as well as you would expect.

Old(ish) faves:

Read between the lines series by butallmystars [Rate E/T, 39169 words, complete, 2022]

Part 1:  Read between the lines (E, 32722 words)

In which Neil has a work conference across the globe and Andrew is not above lying to corporate for a week in Italy with his best friend.

Part 2: I wasn't pretending (T, 6447 words)

Read between the lines chapter five from Neil’s point of view. Radio silence, the gala & drunk texting.

A Book for Christmas by CurvedYellowFruit [Rated T, 13736 words, complete, 2021]

Andrew joins an online book club to stave off boredom. None of the other book club members have any opinions worth engaging with, but one person is particularly infuriating. Andrew decides he hates Smart_Alec10 - right up until he suddenly doesn’t. Cue adoptive-parent Nicky pestering Andrew about Christmas dinner, and you have a recipe for fake dating and a trope-filled Christmas.

dating & other disasters by lolainslackss, moonix [Rated T, 51086 words, complete, 2019, locked]

Andrew thought it couldn't get any worse than having to watch Neil go on disastrous date after disastrous date with other people. Until Neil had the bright idea that they should fake date to mess with their friends.

tw: alcohol

Nine Weddings and No Funerals by gluupor [Rated T, 28578 words, complete, 2019]

Neil's just been unceremoniously dumped by his longtime boyfriend before a busy wedding season where it seems like everyone he knows is tying the knot. Desperate not to look like a pathetic loser in front of his ex, he goes along with a plan to bring along a fake boyfriend to the weddings. Since neither Neil nor his date Andrew are interested in pursuing a relationship, there's no chance that anyone's feelings will be hurt.

tw: acephobia

The Bokeh Effect by fuzzballsheltiepants [Rated T, 13239 words, complete, 2019]

Neil is struggling as a freelance photographer when the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself. Unfortunately, a casual lie told during his initial interview leaves him scrambling to find a "partner" ASAP. His best option? His ex-best friend/ex-roommate, who ghosted him the day after graduation.

Neil is in some serious trouble.

[bowie-leblanc]

Bowie + some of their favorite songs 

1. Alien Superstar by Beyoncé

Unique That's what you are Lingerie reflecting off the mirror on the bar Category, sexy bitch I'm the bar Alien superstar

2. Binz by Solange

I just wanna wake up to the suns and Saint Laurent Hundred thousand dollars on the fronts and the blunts I just wanna wake up on ya thigh, on a yacht Or in the Rolls that's rented, windows tinted

3. We Might Even Be Falling In Love (Interlude) by Victoria Monét

Go head act a fool in it Freestyle with me 'til you find your groove in it U-haul 'cause I might let you move in it 'Cause I ain't had nobody hit it like you hit it

4. Pressing Me by Rico Nasty

Your boyfriend, be pressing me Your ex n–, be pressing me Even your friends Come and get your man sis

5. Good Days by SZA

Gotta get right, tryna free my mind before the end of the world I don't miss no ex, I don't miss no text I just choose not to respond I don't regret, just pretend shit never happened Half of us layin' waste to our youth, is in the present

6. I Would Die 4 U by Prince

I'm not a woman I'm not a man I am something that you'll never understand

7. A Sunday Kind of Love by Etta James

I want a Sunday kind of love A love to last past Saturday night And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight And I want a Sunday kind of love

8. Love Galore (Alt Version) by SZA

I been looking good, I been feeling nice Working on my aura, cleaning up Working overtime, you been getting boring so

9. Nectar by Raveena 

Stretch marks on my thighs Skin shades of earth Knots in my hair, it's real Don’t fear it Come and stay a while You’ve been missing my Sunflowers, sun showers, I know

10. Speechless by Beyoncé

Goin' out my head I think I'm losin' all my mind  Drive me crazy burning candles, makin' love all night Feels so strange, it feels so crazy to be in your world In your arms lost for words, you got me 

11. mary magdalene by FKA twigs 

I fear before the fire True as Mary Magdalene Creature of desire Come just a little bit closer to me Step just a little bit closer to me I can lift you higher I do it like Mary Magdalene I want you to say it Come just a little bit closer 'til we collide

12. Song of The Sirens by Lee Davis 

instrumental 

13. Orange Moon by Erykah Badu

I'm an orange moon I'm brighter than before Brighter than ever before I'm an orange moon and I shine so bright 'Cause I reflect the light of my sun

14. Love Hangover by Dianna Ross

I think about it all the time Never let it out of my mind 'Cause I love you I've got the sweetest hangover I don't wanna get over

15. Creole Love Call by Duke Ellington 

instrumental 

16. Lady Grinning Soul by David Bowie

She'll come, she'll go She'll lay belief on you Skin sweet with musky odor The lady from another grinning soul

17. Gemini by Princess Nokia 

I'm the horoscope hoe I'm the planet and moon I'm the rising ascendant 5th degree to the Moon I'm the witch of your dreams I'm the voice in your head Your husband sent me a DM And I just left him on read

[eartht137]

FOR THE BETTER

Hello and greetings to anyone that gets to read this. It is my first story. I wanted to try and see how this was received before continuing so please feel free to let me know how you like it. Please be easy on me it is my first one I am new to this, but I hope you like it. Its a bit slow right now but I swear the chapters will get going as we go along on this ride together. Okay *curvies* love ya! Enjoy!

Dark Clark Kent x (Black)!Plus Size Reader

SUMMARY: (I suck at them but here goes) After working miserable unfulfilling jobs, you decide to go back to school to pursue your dream in writing. You get the very handsome, very smart Mr. Kent as your English/Literature Professor. You've always stayed to yourself preferring to have your alone time and focus on your writing. Mr. Kent comes in to shake that way of thinking up and its all with your best interest at heart (well his best interest at heart){Cheesy, am I right?}

"For the weekend's assignment. Something very simple, almost high school level. Don't complicate it." Mr. Kent said dragging his feet to tell you all what the stupid assignment was.

"Get to the point." You thought out loud as you rested your head in your hand. He glared at you for moment before continuing. You felt your face flush, because-'no way he heard me' you thought.

"I want you all to write me a paper on...one thing you like about yourself and why." He rushed out. "I want you all to be as genuine as possible, if you're going to be journalists you have to capture your audience. If you can sell yourself, then you can sell a story. If you're a snooze fest......I honestly don't know what to tell you" He chuckled

Everyone groaned because why???

"Due next Monday on the dot. NO EXCEPTIONS!" He belted. "If you don't have your paper on Monday, you will stand up and give a 5 minute speech on said topic."

'What kind of teenage topic is this?' You thought.

"Don't give me lip guys, you signed up for this. I didn't make you do anything." He said pointing at all of you. "No complaining. Monday! Class dismissed." He announced causing everyone to scatter. You were just about out the door when he stopped you.

"Y/n, can you stay back for bit?"

"Yeah sure." You immediately got nervous. You weren't used to being singled out, you always managed to stay below the radar. You'd figured out ways to stay out of sight out of mind after always being criticized by your family, so getting asked to stay back wasn't a normal thing. You braced yourself for the "you can do better speech" and hoped it wouldn't take too long. You watched as the room emptied and he gathered his stuff.

"Come on, lets step into my office." He said leading the way with his hands full. "Have a seat." he said motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you sat feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Literally everyone would've given anything to be where you were. Mr. Kent was almost mythical. You didn't know a day where you didn't think 'DAMN that man know he fine!' And you knew he knew it.

"Bet you think I'm gonna talk about your grades." he chuckled. "While I do require your improvement,"

'Require?' you thought hoping your face didn't covey your attitude.

"I wanted to talk about something else."

"O-kay?"

"I've notice, you're very um...to yourself, is everything-"

'Oh there it is.'

"Mr. Kent, please don't analyze me. I am a whole different breed of human. I don't do people."

"I'm sorry?" he asked tilting his head.

"I just value my alone time. You can't have that with people."

"You can still have space with other people in your life." he said shaking his head at you.

"I didn't say space, I said alone time, and that's not the same. That's still with people. Like, no." you said crossing you arms.

He stared at your for a second, the he began to laugh, and rub his eyes. "You really are something."

"Mm-hmm its true."

"I'm just saying its healthy to get out and socialize every once and awhile, not all the time, I mean-don't you get lonely sometimes?

"No, not really. I mean don't give me wrong I'm human. I get the urge to hang out, then I do, then I remember why I didn't want to do it in the first place." you said realizing you were almost ranting. He eyed you as if he didn't believe you.

"I tell you what, I know you say you're fine, but for my sanity, can we be friends? You know just someone to check on you, make sure you're okay? If-if you hate it by the end of the week then I'll let it go."

"Mr. Kent, no offense, but why do you care? I mean, you have your own life, I'm sure you got a nice family you should be there for, so like....I'm gonna need a it all to make sense."

"Its mean, don't get me wrong I enjoy solitude too, and its not because I don't like people," he chuckled, "but I know what its like to sometimes need someone I could just talk to when I really needed it most and not having it. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Its funny because it would always lead me home."

"Well that's the difference between you and me, there is no going back." you sighed. You contemplated it 'It couldn't hurt could it?' "Okay."

"Okay?"

"We can be friends." you resigned.

"Great!" he said clapping his hands together.

"Only til the end of the week." You said standing stretching. "So we good? Can I go?"

"Actually, what are you doing tonight? I mean, my ma is cooking dinner and-"

"Okay anything food related, I'm down." You cut him off.

"Good, well I'll pick you up at 6?"

"Yeah sure." You said trying to get away.

"Uh, Y/n?"

"Yes?" You asked sweetly.

"I'm going to need your address." He said knowing you knew he needed it.

You gave you your information and booked it out of there. You immediately went home and took a nap. The whole ordeal was a bit draining for you.

It was your phones constant vibrating that woke you out of a deep sleep. You let it ring a few more times before picking it up.

"What?" You groaned into the phone.

"Y/n are ready? I'm like 15 minutes away." Mr. Kent asked.

"Ready for what?"

"Food?"

"Food? Food! Oh shit!" You said jumping up remembering dinner plans. "I'll be ready when you get here." You said quickly hanging up and rushing to get ready. By the time you felt you looked decent enough, he called and told he was there. When you walked out to meet him, you saw his girlfriend was with him and you put on a small smile. 'Of course he has a girlfriend, why wouldn't he. Still a bummer though, oh well.' you thought to yourself as you walked toward them.

"Y/n this is Lois, Lois this is Y/n. Lois is one of the top editors at the Daily Planet." He bragged, and you immediately got nervous. You'd read her work and you'd give to be as good, even better at writing.

"It really is nice to meet you, Clark speaks very highly of you and your writing." she said smiling.

"Really? I mean writing is my passion, I'm aspiring to get at least in the door. I'm not an editor or professor, but I think I'm okay." You said realizing you were babbling on because of your anxiety.

"Be confident in your work. It shows when you really mean what you're writing about. It also shows when you're doubting yourself." She said smiling at you. You immediately liked her and hoped to get to know her for advice sometime. You all got in and they fell into easy chatter along the way. Every now and again they'd touch on a topic you'd find interesting or be excited about, and you'd really get into it, smiling and being expressive. You'd catch Clark staring at you, a bit shocked at how much you had to say after months of being so quiet, and you'd retreat like a turtle back into your shell. You tried to not enjoy being around them, but every now and again, you liked talking to people on your level. Every now and again, you'd get lost in the breeze of the night air. You'd look out and get lost looking at the stars and the moon out of the open window of the moving car. You get so lost you forgot the other two people in the car and you'd miss the glances Clark took at you through the rearview mirror. When you all arrived at his moms farm you practically gawked at all the land around. You driven by open field and corn fields, you'd never actually gotten to see it up close.

As you all got out, his mom stepped out and waved at you.

"Well, looks like we got extra family tonight." she said smiling. You immediately felt a bit awkward. "Oh dear don't be shy, any friend of Clark is family." She said pulling you into a big hug.

"Thank you for having me Mrs. Kent." You said smiling.

"No go on now you just call me Martha." she said smiling and leading you inside. "You two come along, you know the routine." She said waving Lois and Clark inside. Dinner was great, you even found yourself laughing out loud. It exhilarated you and scared you to have such a good time around other people. You almost, ALMOST, didn't want the night to end, but you missed your bed. As if reading your mind, Clark announced it was time to leave.

"Looks like someone is ready for bed." He chuckled.

"Yep, I miss my solitude." You said stretching. Clark shook his head at you.

"What?" You asked innocently.

You said your final farewells and got in the car heading home. The ride home was peaceful, there was a calm silence between you three and you smiled watching the love exchanges between the two. You could see how much he loved her and you could understand why, Lois was beautiful woman. Your mind jumped from reasons you weren't in a relationship, to the assignment Clark had given you for the weekend. One thing you like about yourself? That topic was always hard for you and you couldn't even begin to find the words to start. Over the years you'd tried hard to accept yourself, love yourself, and be who you were unapologetically, but the moment you got to the threshold of truly giving yourself a chance, all of the criticism, judgment, and years of being invalidated filled you with fear and dread and you'd go back to your shell and do what you did best. Stay in your own bubble. Tears stung your eyes as you tried to stomp down the voices of doubt and resentment, 'It's okay, I'm good, I do what I have to and I'm happy with it. I'm at peace.' you thought to yourself over and over.

"You okay?" Clarks deep voice full of concerned pulled you from your thoughts and you shook you head to bring yourself back to reality.

"Yeah, just trying to stay awake." you said avoiding his gaze. The ride continued in silence and you couldn't help but drift off. One moment you were letting the ride soothe you to sleep and the next you heard a voice cooing you to sleep.

"Shh shh shh it's okay" Clark whispered. You couldn't help but cover your eyes. You were in Clark's arms as he carried you to the apartment.

"Woah," you said trying to get out of his arms. He gently placed you on your feet like a flower.

"Hey, its okay, calm down." He said gently rubbing your arms.

"S-sorry, I've just never-"

"Had anyone carry you before." He said finishing your sentence. You shifted feeling a bit awkward.

"Well, thanks for dinner. Thanks Lois!" You waved at her before going to your door. "Goodnight." you said one last time as you got inside. During the weekend you were extremely restless and was finding it hard to concentrate long enough to work on your assignment. Even when you sat waiting for words to form in your mind you eventually got busy doing something different. The night before class, you had an idea pop in your head, and you decided to go for it. You just hoped it would all make sense, it was the only think your mind focused on.

[saphirered]

Ah I just read like 5 of your head cannons they're amazing! Could you write about the M9 reacting to a fighter s/o using magic for the fist time, and the s/o explaining that they haven't used it cause it scares them?

Thank you so much ☺️! It turned out a bit longer than I intended but more content is good right? I tried to get some variety in the types of magic users to kudos to anyone who figures out the (sub)classes. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy this one 😘

Caleb:

Caleb, observant as he is caught on the fact you had more knowledge of the arcane than you let people believe. You knew things someone not schooled in some kind of magic wouldn’t have the faintest clue about. It may have left him a bit suspicious of you in the beginning but over time he saw no malicious intent or a connection to the people he’d rather distance himself from.

The first time Caleb noticed you cast a spell, you spoke the familiar words combined with the motions to deflect a hit from an enemy mid battle that otherwise might have been the death of you. You thought no one had noticed but Caleb had, and he recognised the shield spell you used. He saw you flinch the moment you cast it and fear in your eyes as if you were waiting for an aftermath. It never came but you were on edge for the next few hours.

Approaching you after noticing you were still on edge, nervously fidgeting with a coin in your hand to get rid of the more obvious jitters, you denied all claims. If Caleb is good at anything it’s providing a verbal slap in the face through reality check and calling out your bullshit. He wouldn’t press for answers because your past is your past and he had no right to demand it if you were not willingly offering it.

It took you some time but you came clean. You told him how your relationship with practical magics is destructive and hurts people. Because of that you vowed to distance yourself from magic altogether but sometimes you slip and hope no one notices and no ill effects follow you casting any spell. Caleb understands, better than anyone perhaps. He admires your restraint and capability of stepping away from the thing that causes you so much pain; something he never could.

If you’re able to and with your consent Caleb would help you work through your fears, only for your own wellbeing because one thing is undeniable; your magic is part of you and if you never learn to live with it, that it is part of you, you might never be able to accept it. What happens when you’re unable to fear the magic? Will you instead turn to fear yourself like he had himself for so long? No, if he can spare you a fate like that he’d do anything.

Beau:

You never hid the fact you were schooled in the arcane. It just never clicked you are actually a very capable spellcaster especially donned in battle worn armour and your tastes for sharp edged pointy things, and a ‘will cut a bitch’ attitude whenever someone comes for you or those close to you.

Perhaps a little ashamed to admit the first time Beau actually saw you cast a spell it was a simple mage hand cantrip. You couldn’t reach a book on a high shelf at the Archive and you thought it disrespectful to physically climb the bookcases to get it. Beau may or may not have been watching you, more like admiring your muscle. Nothing better than a strong, gorgeous ripped bookworm. Mouth agape you caught Beau staring. You had to snap her out of it. Beau had a million questions, maybe half of them flirty. You answered her questions best you could, even the flirty ones but when it got to where you learned magic you sort of just shut down so she dropped the subject. Beau knows how to read the room no matter how much she might want to press for answers. She’ll refrain. For now.

This doesn’t mean Beau drops the subject entirely for all future reference though. She’d leave hooks for you in case you’d be in a more talkative mood and grow frustrated when you ignored or brushed off the so-many-eth attempt to get you to spill some beans. One day she sat you down, giving you one more chance to tell her what’s going on. If you wanted to tell her, you could. If not, she’d never ask again or try to get you to talk about it.

That’s when you broke down, explaining all the terrible memories of your ‘studies’. You were the only child in a long line of powerful mages to barely be able to cast a cantrip growing up. You were a disappointment and disgrace to your family. Rigorous hours practicing and studying from dawn til dusk without breaks. Not being allowed to go outside and play with friends until you got this one thing right. Nevermind the fact that your family let it be known you were a disappointment.

You’d been working hard already to break the circle but couldn’t prevent the bad memories haunting you every time you felt like you had to cast a spell. No matter how far you ran, whenever you reached for the components, spoke the words or performed the somatics, you were hit with a sense of incompetence. Beau’s not unfamiliar to the need of living up to the expectations of family. She’d be there for you if you wanted to take up magic on your own terms or distance yourself from magic entirely.

Fjord:

Didn’t have a single clue you were magically inclined. But to be fair you never gave anyone a reason to believe you were. You were born with magic and you had seen what developing those abilities had done to others like you. You like yourself the way you are and would very much prefer not to fall into the servitude of some evil entity in the hunger for more power.

You’d seen Fjord spiral into the clutches of his patron and saw him struggle to get away from the leviathan. Ritualistically you tapped into the power bestowed upon you to search for a way to break the pact between warlock and patron. Of course it was doable and your powers could show you the way but you needed to get stronger first…

Fjord grew worried. You’d begun talking to yourself, spending nights awake and an odd sense of paranoia had grasped you. A storm hit once and you had nowhere to shelter. The little voice in your head came back. You could stop that storm. All it would take is a little tiny taste. When you agreed you had no control over yourself. Hand held up to the sky, eyes white and skin ashen, a bright light emitted and the clouds disappeared. Needless to say this did not go unnoticed by anyone.

Obligatory endless questions. Obligatory none answered. You retreated within your shell choosing to ignore your surroundings and feeling the nagging in the back of your head. Fjord heard you speaking to yourself at night. Asking the skies if it was worth it. Worth what? You heard him and just because the voice in the back of your head told you not to, you told Fjord everything; how you had been trying to find a way to keep Uk’otoa at bay, how to break his connection with his patron and give him freedom and what would happen to you if you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching for more after completing that goal.

Fjord refuses to let you sacrifice yourself for his freedom. He’d rather have you fighting the evils of the world at his side than end up fighting you in an attempt to save yourself from what you might become. The two of you would work together to repress the inkling for more power and keep your powers at bay and under control. While you might want to see it differently, for the good of everything you’d stay far away from any magical forces seeking to awaken the power you were born with.

Veth:

Veth made it clear she would not understand why anyone would pass on the opportunity to learn or develop magical abilities should they be available to them. She literally spoke those words and you just nodded along changing the subject. You’d rather not lie but is this lie by omission?

It was an emergency. A fight had gone south and you were losing quickly. Clerics on their last legs, a wizard down being dragged away by the monk and Veth running in arrows blazing and screaming to protect her friends. You had to get out and none of you were quick enough at this point to all get out. So you did what you had to do. A quick expeditious retreat resulted in conveniently released magic missiles at your enemies, grabbing the halfling who got out some last shots you misty stepped your way to safety. You shouted to the others you were safe immediately knowing to keep your mouth shut for the next minute. Bless the gods the surges weren’t that bad this time.

Safely returned Veth commented on what you did. Did you take those scrolls? Did you buy that misty step enchanted item after all? Those were the only logical explanations right? Yes but they weren’t true. So you told Veth the truth. No scrolls or enchanted items were involved. Why didn’t you tell anyone you could do that?! It would have been so helpful in the past! Look how many buttons you could have helped her get!

You calmly explained her you could cast spells and were actually quite good at it one point your magic is dangerous, and the surges uncontrollable the state you’re at. While this time the reward by far exceeded the risks in this situation, you’d rather prevent killing those around you in a blaze of glory if you can. Wild magic surges are no joke and you’re so afraid of hurting the people you care about you’d rather step away from magic completely than live with the knowledge you could be the end of your friends and family.

Veth still has a hard time understanding your reasoning being prone to risky behaviour herself but accepts your views and respects your decisions. While you may not practice magic you still know it and after some persuasion, the woman gets you to teach her a thing or two. Of course all used for the good of mankind of course…. She just failed to specify who’s.

Jester:

You’re a special one. The Traveler told her so after all! He just didn’t tell her in what way specifically but you are special! That Traveler of hers may know a bit more than you’re comfortable with so you’ve been wary of the green cloak should he see the need to reveal your secrets. Luckily he cares about Jester and revealing your secrets would hurt you and you being hurt makes Jester upset so you can take comfort in the Traveler’s attachment to the tiefling.

Pixies came to haunt you in the night. They were meant to send you a message. Someone wanted you to stop running and accept your fate. Pissed off as you were you fought them off but when some tried to get away and your bow out of reach you were forced to release the bursts of bright green energy. Regret hit followed by fear. What if your patron could find you now? What if they came to get you or tried to hurt your friends to get you to cooperate? You will never be a puppet again and if a cantrip screwed this up for you….

“Oh. My. Gosh. Why did you never tell me you could do magic?” Jester exclaimed waking up Fjord just to tell him your eldritch blasts looked so much cooler than his. Guess the cat’s out of the bag… You had to prevent Jester from waking up the others to tell them you’d just gotten even cooler than you already were.

Successfully sending the others back to sleep you took Jester aside. Your hands still shaking, you asked her to talk to her god and ask him if he knew someone might be looking for you and getting close. The Traveler obliged but he wanted to hear the story behind your predicament. You told Jester everything ignoring the green hooded figure. How a being from another realm tricked you into an agreement. From then on you became a warlock.

You didn’t like being a warlock and you being stuck in such a binding deal lead to a very abusive relation between you and your patron so you did everything in your power to get away from them. Luckily crossing the planes is a lot more difficult and limits their capabilities quite a bit. Jester promised she’d protect you and of course the Traveler can be your new god so he’ll protect you too. Both you and the Traveler might not have been in full agreement with this statement. Jester understands you wanting to be far away and never see your patron again. She’s seen her mom get rid of the people getting a little too close for comfort or too attached and possessive so she knows how to deal with them.

Caduceus:

From the beginning you knew you couldn’t hide anything from Caduceus no matter how hard you tried. This lead you to just never specify anything. If he picked up on thing and asked about them then you’d answer, if not, you weren’t just going to say anything. Not even to explain yourself. Let him draw his own conclusions.

You may once have been a devout follower of your god, the one who bestowed upon you the powers you’d need to uphold their tenets but you veered from that path. Not everything is as black and white as some people claim it to be. You learned the hard way afraid of repeating your mistakes you’d only revert to your old habits in the most dire situations.

Caduceus had gone down. Jester was too far away and you were the only one able to get to him in time but you were out of healing potions. A quick lay on hands later and Caduceus was back on his feet albeit a bit confused about how you had managed to get him back to the land of the living. Talk later, he told you after seeing you mortified of what you had just done through the relief of seeing Caduceus alive.

Talk later you did. You couldn’t run away from your problems. Caduceus wouldn’t let you. You told him how you had done terrible things, hurt people because your god willed it so. You thought you were doing the right thing until you were faced with the truth and consequences. That’s when you stepped away from your life as a paladin; a vessel for your god.

You kept the sword but refused to use the magic; proof of your ability to hurt people who were worthy of redemption. Over many months Caduceus would help you see that your magic is nothing to be afraid of as long as you wield it with a good conscious and to protect instead of seek vengeance. There’s a fine line between being righteous and being just. The Wildmother taught him as much. Maybe she could through him, show you the same?

Yasha:

Whenever someone played a happy tune or began singing you’d retreat and block out your surroundings or find anything you could to distract you from the sound. Yasha just thought music’s not for everyone and maybe these songs and melodies just were’t your style. However when you asked her to please stop humming a tune while you had watch together she became a bit suspicious.

Spending some downtime at a tavern, deep in your cups Yasha was being bothered by a rather persistent asshole. On the verge of a fight breaking out you stepped in front of the barbarian and in a singsong voice told the asshole to kindly piss off and find company elsewhere with someone actually interested. The act alone made your stomach churn so you ran off.

You didn’t like controlling people. It didn’t even take a rhyme or proper verse. All it took was some booze and a melody in your head. This couldn’t happen again. Yasha had come after you to check on you and when you told her to stop, she stopped, frozen in place unable to move. You immediately dropped the accidental spell you cast putting distance between you and Yasha.

Yasha assured her it was fine and with your permission approached. A hug from the gentle goth was all it took for you to turn into a sobbing mess. When the sobs calmed down you told Yasha how you were cursed with your voice. Song and rhymes, tunes and melodies constantly plagued you afraid you’d go along with them and people got hurt because you couldn’t control your voice.

For the longest time you were uncomfortable using your voice but with your permission Yasha would help you practice. She can take a hit if you lose control badly but this fear is no good for you. She’ll play sweet serenades, some prettier than others as she too needs practice, the both of you can practice together learning and relearning the things you grew to love together.

Mollymauk:

Mollymauk doesn’t care about your shit. Everyone hides something and as long as those secrets aren’t a danger to those around you it’s all fine. Though he can’t deny being a bit curious when you snuck off to burn a suspicious stack of paper…. lighting the flame without tinder, flint and steel, or anything.

The next few weeks involved Molly trying to get you to use magic again, asking you to do small tasks much easier to complete with magic than they would be manually. You didn’t budge. Somehow he couldn’t get you to do anything. You’d complete the task the hard way each and every time. He began to wonder if he might have imagined the whole thing.

He spent the whole night tossing and turning until he decided to give up on sleep and just face you with the question to be done with it. You were gone, the light of a fire a bit away from the rest of the group. He found you watching the flames, tears in your eyes and devoid of all emotion. He’d seen Caleb in a similar state before. That’s when it hit him. This was pain, fear and trauma and you’re disassociating to get through this.

Sitting down next to you he’d place a hand on your shoulder, when you don’t stop him he’d wrap it around your shoulder letting you know he’s here for you when you need him. His views don’t change. Everyone is entitled to their secrets and keeping their lives to themselves. If you want to talk, he’s here but he’d accept your silence too despite his curiosity. Luckily for his curiosity, you told him everything. The torments of the past and the family you lost, the pain you’ve caused countless others and how you’re trying to pay your penance and make right your wrongs.

You’re glad to have Molly at your side be that to cheer you up or listen to you. He’s there whenever you need him and will take no for an answer when you don’t want to talk about something. He won’t ask for further details but will do anything to show you you’re on the right path and leaving a place better than you found it when you can’t see it.

[earlgreytea68]

This post got me thinking about Pete and religion.

Fall Out Boy lyrics are full of Christian religious imagery. You kind of get the impression that Pete was raised in a household where he was just casually surrounded by all of this STUFF, that he absorbed and turned over in his lyrics. I mean, “Knock once for the Father, twice for the Son, three times for the Holy Ghost”... (West Coast Smoker).

He’s preoccupied by Heaven as an exclusive party. The idea shows up again and again. The Black Cards (I *love* the Black Cards stuff, I need to devote a whole thing to Black Cards at some point) have an entire song called “A Club Called Heaven.” On “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Fame,” “Heaven’s got a gate full of metal detectors.” On “Thriller,” he shows up with his plus one to the afterlife.

But Pete’s not entirely sure he’s getting into that party. In fact, usually Pete puts himself in Hell: He might be dancing in a club called Heaven, but he knows the doorman in Hell personally. The road to his house is paved with good intentions in Hum Hallelujah (which is, of course, traditionally what the road to Hell is paved with); “we’re just Hell’s neighbors” in America’s Suitehearts (if we’re not in Hell, we’re right next door, and that could be Heaven but I don’t think so). To get on St. Peter’s list, you need to lower your standards, says Rat-a-Tat. This is what Pete Wentz lyrics do, a simple sentence like that is LOADED with meaning. Because after all, his name is Peter, and it could be Peter Wentz’s list he’s referring to there, and it could also be the list to get into Heaven, and it could be that getting on Peter Wentz’s list doesn’t actually take that much (lower your standards, I’m never getting any better than this) and it could be that it’s St. Peter at the gates of Heaven who needs to lower *his* standards (again: I’m never getting any better than this).

(My absolute favorite Heaven/Hell lyric, though, is when Pete throws in Purgatory, that place in Catholicism where you go to do penance for your sins before you’re let into Heaven: On w.a.m.s. Pete writes, “My head’s in Heaven, my soles are in Hell, let’s meet in the Purgatory of my hips.” The glorious beauty of the sex innuendo being the *purgatory*: what you have to get yourself through to get to actual Heaven. ugh, Pete Wentz kills me sometimes with the way he uses words.)

He left his conscience pressed between the pages of the Bible in the drawer, but what did it ever do for him? So asks XO, and the gorgeously ambiguous phrasing of those lines KILLS ME. What’s the antecedent to the “it”? His conscience, sure, that’s what he’s thrown carelessly in the drawer. WITH THE BIBLE. Which could also be the “it”: What did that whole faith thing ever get me anyway?

But he wants it *so badly.* My second favorite lyric from Hum Hallelujah (a song that is nothing but excellent lyrics is “I love you in the same way there’s a chapel in a hospital.” There is SO MUCH packed into that line. SO, SO MUCH. And one of the things in there is the ambiguous irresistibility of faith: Sure, maybe the chapel is a last-ditch effort when nothing else works, or maybe that chapel is the ONLY thing that works and the only thing that matters in the whole place. I love you like that, like I don’t know if you’re all I’ve got left or you’re the only thing that matters, and I don’t know which it is but wow, either way, it would be great if you gave me a sign. Ugh that liiiiiine. “Have you ever wanted to disappear and join a monastery?” asks 20 Dollar Nose Bleed.

“I will never believe in anything again,” says (Coffee’s for Closers), but who really believes that? The temptation of belief creeps up in between the proclamation (”kick drum beating in my chest again,” “preach electric to a microphone stand”), undercutting it in the same way that its over-repetition in the song starts to ring hollow (Pete doth protest too much). The comfort that religious people get from their faith in God, Pete wants that. But he can’t get there. He’s always hedging his bets (“in case God doesn’t show” --Thnks fr th Mmrs). He’s always doubtful of God’s good intentions if He is there (”when the world ends, will God go down with it?” --What a Catch, Donnie).

So he tries to find substitutes for this faith he doesn’t have. “My words are my faith,” says Hum Hallelujah, but then, immediately afterward, “To hell with our good name,” so that’s how much actual trust he thinks you should place in that. “We’re a bull and your ears are a china shop.” Look at what a mess my words can make in there if you let them in; that’s what faith does to you, buddy. His gospel is the gospel of giving up (Arms Race). “Follow the disorganized religion of my head,” says West Coast Smoker. “I can work a miracle,” boasts Uma Thurman. “I’m the holy water you have been without,” says Fourth of July.

But he’s not really what he wants to believe in. “We’re saints just swimming in our sins,” Twin Skeleton’s reminds everyone. “If we pray to the Lord,” goes the outro on w.a.m.s., “does he sing on a stage?” Maybe rock and roll is what he should be believing in? “I’m the last damn kid still kicking who still believes,” claims Save Rock and Roll. “I will defend the faith, going down swinging.”

All of which brings us to MANIA. Religion, faith, belief is ALL OVER MANIA. In fact, the entire album is constructed as a journey toward finding the thing you believe in, the thing you have faith in, and finally settling in to cling tight to it. The first song on the album, Stay Frosty, Royal Milk Tea, is struggling with loss of things to believe in: “All my childhood heroes have fallen off or died.” (Champion later has the same theme: “I’m young enough to still believe, but young enough not to know what to believe in.” The most explicit Pete has ever been about his journey toward faith.) But then, in the second song, Last of the Real Ones, the lyrics have found someone to revolve around, someone to be with forever: “the ultra-kind of love,” that ultimate faith. But it’s not quite there yet. There’s doubt in there. “Tell me I’m the only one even if it’s not true.” “There’s been a million before me.” The bridge is expert Fall-Out-Boy song ambiguity. “I’m done with having dreams, the thing that I believe / you drain the fear from me.” Is that “I believe that you drain the fear from me”? Or is that “I’m done with the thing that I believe”? The song’s phrasing lets it be both at once, both a proclamation of faith and a proclamation of doubt, all at the same time.

But things get better. We eventually get to “Church.” An entire song where the religious imagery is pitched toward love (or blowjobs, like, same thing, maybe, for Pete Wentz). “If YOU were church, I’d get on my knees, confess my love, I’d know where to be, my sanctuary, you’re holy to me,” is the refrain of the whole song. It can’t get any clearer than that. Pete Wentz has found what he wants to believe in, and it’s the YOU (whoever that might be ahem just saying that in “Sunshine Riptide,” the she says “I love you ‘til I don’t,” while the You is the “truest feeling yet”). The other enduring theme in MANIA is fakeness and pretend: fake tears, fake friends, people you’re pretending with and around. That theme shows up in Church, too: “I’ve got a few more fake friends and it’s getting hard to know what’s real.” But in Church the proclamation of faith is in the chorus, which means that no matter how anxious Pete gets himself in the lyrics, he resolves back to the central belief: I’ve got you, I know where I should be. YOU’RE what’s real, right here, forget everyone else. 

AND THEN we get Heaven’s Gate. Which revisits Pete’s favorite idea that Heaven is a party he’s going to have to try to crash. But here the song is all about how he’s no longer aimlessly looking for something to believe in; he’s found it: “I’m a missile that’s guided to you.” Maybe he’s gotten it wrong, that he’s chosen the You as his thing to believe in, that the only thing he wants is Your love, but if he’s gotten it wrong, he’s got faith the You is going to get it right and give him the boost he needs into Heaven. “Honey, please come through” and take me along with Your awesomeness, because I’ve decided it’s You I’m going to follow, Your dreams I’m going to make come true, and I’m not going to try to detox from You anymore, I’m just going to go all-in on this whole thing, and in the end, if I don’t make it on the list, will You slip me a wristband?

The album closes out with Young and Menace, with “I’ve lived so much life I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice,” which is such a beautiful bookend to “I read about the afterlife but I never really lived” in Saturday, like, ugh, that always kills me, look how far Pete Wentz has come, and then finally into Bishop’s Knife Trick: “I’m yours, ‘til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away.”

Let’s go back to the places that we never should have left.

Idk, maybe you could read this as: Pete Wentz finally found something to believe in, and it ended up being the person who hasn’t left his side in 20 years, the person he’s never had to pretend with, the person who’s been there through all the fake friends, the person who’s golden and amazing and DEFINITELY going to get it right when Pete doesn’t. I mean, maybe you could read it this way.

[galactic-magick]

As Long As I’m With You: Agnes/Agatha Harkness x Reader

Request: Hi, can you please do where Agnes (a villain) saves fem reader's life because she has feelings for her? In the end they end up together // also took some ideas from this request

Summary: You’re accused of witchcraft in your village, and a mysterious beautiful witch comes to your aid.

Words: 2200+

Warnings: fem reader, Agatha is low key evil so she hurts some people, a swear word, reader has an angsty past

Author’s Notes: This can be read as either a standalone fic or as a prequel to my other fic “Spell Practice.” I took quite a lot of creative liberty with this, hopefully that’s alright. Also disclaimer I am in no way a history expert so even though this is set in like the 1500s-1600s it’s probably very inaccurate, but it’s fanfic so anything goes right?

Taglist: @nyx-aira​ @midnight-lestrange​ @thestrangeundoing​ @thegayances @sleep-deprived-athlete @dr-robotnik-said-hella​ @fallingfor-fics @p-nymph​ @thelanawinterrs @sunproud​ (if your tag didn’t work it might be bc your blog isn’t searchable so make sure that’s on so you’re notified of future fics!)

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You had no idea how much your life would change when you left your house that day.

It started out with a simple run to the market and the garden to get what you needed for supper that night, a job that almost always falls to you. You don’t necessarily mind getting away from your family and talking to some people in town, but it’s clear that your family doesn’t want you in the house as much as possible either.

It’s gotten to the point where they’re just looking for a reason to get rid of you. You’re a disappointment, after all. You refuse to marry in order to help your family’s status, even though you’ve gotten a couple offers. You counter your parent’s rules and ideas every chance you get, no matter how much they tell you you’re crazy. They belittle you constantly, saying your dreams are worth nothing and you’ll have to be dependent on them forever if you never submit to the role in society you’re supposed to.

Obviously bullying you out of their lives wasn’t working, so they’ve moved on to spreading rumors about you and setting you up for crimes. None have worked yet, of course, but every day you fear they’ll get too close.

Until you get burned at the stake, though, they’ve given you basically every responsibility of the house. You do all the shopping, cooking, and farming, as well as taking care of your younger siblings. You wonder what they’d do without you, despite how much they seem to want you gone.

As you’re buying a few crops and eggs from your neighbors, you swear you see something move. You turn around and see a little boy floating in the air, screaming.

You drop everything in your arms and reach up to him, trying to grab him and help him down, but he keeps flailing, and his screams start to feel directed at you.

“Hey! It’s okay! Let me help you!” you hold your hand up, speaking as calmly as you can. “I’m not going to hurt you,”

“WITCH!” a man yells as he sees you. “SHE’S A WITCH!”

Everyone around turns and watches you.

“No! No! I’m not the one doing this! I’m trying to help!”

“Let him down and maybe we’ll wait to kill you til tomorrow!” someone else demands.

A couple people march towards you to grab you, and all you can think to do is start running.

You race out of the center of town into the trees, and about five men chase after you. You keep going until it feels like your legs are going to give out and you can barely breathe, but they keep coming.

“Please! Please stop! It wasn’t me I swear!” you cry. “I don’t know what was happening!”

“Shut up, girl,” one grunts. “Your father always said there was something wrong with you, makes sense that you’re a witch!”

“What’s so wrong about witches?” a female voice calls.

You and the men spin around, trying to figure out where it came from.

Before you can blink there’s purple smoke surrounding you, and the men are thrown against the trees. They’re knocked unconscious instantly, but you remain standing and untouched.

“Who are you?” you ask, your voice quivering.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” the smoke starts to fade and you can make out her silhouette, then eventually her face. “I’m here to help you,”

She’s beautiful. You’ve never seen someone that immediately feels so friendly, so different in all the best ways.

“It’s alright to stare, I know I’m quite a sight,” she laughs. “I’m Agatha,”

“I’m Y/N,”

“Ah, yes, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard of you,” she smiles. “Everyone in the village can barely stand you,”

“Thanks…?” you’re not sure how to respond, especially after all that just happened. “Wait, if you live in my village, why have I never seen you? And how come you’ve never gotten caught using magic?”

“Memory spells, of course,” she shrugs. “Now, let’s get you somewhere safe, alright?”

You nod, and she wraps an arm around you. She takes you deep into the forest until you reach a small house, the glimmer of the fire peering through the windows.

You settle down on a chair while she makes some tea and food. She offers you a blanket and hands you the cup and plate, sitting down across from you.

“So how long have you been practicing magic?” she asks.

“Oh…I…well actually I don’t know how to use any magic,”

“Really? Why were the witch hunters after you then?”

“I was set up, I think,” you say. “There was a little boy floating in the air, and since I was near him they thought it was me. But I wasn’t doing anything,”

“Well,” Agatha sips her tea. “Sometimes magic can manifest itself subconsciously. Maybe you were doing it but didn’t realize it. It’s quite common,”

“But…how would I have magical powers? I’ve never learned it from anywhere,”

“Some people are just born with the gift,” she grins.

You exhale, thinking over what she said. Could it be true? You’ve been a witch all your life without even knowing it?

 -

 That night, Agatha conjures another bed for you to sleep in. But even though she made it as comfortable as she possibly could, you can’t get a wink of sleep.

You lift off the blanket and wrap it tightly around you, getting up slowly and quietly. You walk outside and sit against a tree, looking up at the stars.

You’re sure your family has heard the news by now. Their disappointment of a daughter is finally gone, accused of witchcraft. It seems that the foreseeable future will be spent with Agatha, the only safe person you have.

You wonder just how much she already knows about you. She mentioned she’s heard people gossiping about you all the time in town, yet she still saved you after hearing all those negative things.

Why is that?

“Can’t sleep?”

You jump at her voice, and she chuckles a bit at your reaction.

“Sorry,” you sigh. “I just have a lot to think about from today, I guess,”

“No worries,” she sits down beside you. “So do I,”

“Agatha,” you say. “Why did you save me?”

“Us witches have to stick together. I saw you were in trouble, so I saved you,”

“But you knew, didn’t you? You’ve known I was a witch long before this, didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions,” she agrees. “Whenever I heard people talk about you, I figured you weren’t like everyone else. But I didn’t know for sure until today,”

“I wish you had taken me before,” you huff, a few tears falling down your cheeks. “It’s been so bad, Agatha, feeling worthless just because you’re different, everyone hates you…”

She pulls you into her shoulder, letting you cry into it, “I know, dear, I know,”

 -

 It takes you a while to come to terms with your potential powers, but as soon as you’re ready Agatha begins to teach you how to use them. You spend your days studying her spell books and practicing simple spells, most of which you fail at.

She encourages you as much as possible, explaining to you that magic is not something you can learn overnight, sometimes not even over years. She tells you that she’s actually thousands of years old (a surprise to you due to her stunning looks) and she’s been practicing for much of that time, and there’s still some spells she hasn’t mastered.

Your impatience still gets the better of you most days, though. You can’t imagine waiting several centuries to get something to work, if you get it to work at all.

One day you’re sitting at the table, trying out a simple transfiguration spell. You wave your hand repeatedly at a potato, hoping to turn it into an apple. It doesn’t even wobble, not even a single spark, but you’ve been sitting here for hours and don’t want to give up just yet.

You nearly fall asleep from exhaustion when all of a sudden it happens. It works.

There’s an apple in front of you. Not a potato, an apple.

“Holy shit!” you scream. “Agatha! I did it!”

You run over to her and point at your small accomplishment.

“Look at you go, darling!” she smiles, hugging you. “At this rate you’ll be changing rocks into cats before you’re 200!”

You laugh, “Oh come on, this is literally just one of the beginner spells,”

“So what? That’s where everybody starts,”

You break out in giddy excitement again, jumping up and down a bit and looking back and forth just to make sure your creation is still there.

Without thinking, you kiss Agatha quickly on the lips.

She stares at you, mouth open.

Before you can apologize, she grabs your face and kisses you hard. She’s everything you’d imagined and more, soft and warm but with a spark you can’t ignore.

When you finally break apart, her hands linger, brushing across your features and in your hair, “I’ve been waiting to do that,”

 -

 Things change after that, but in only the best ways.

Agatha isn’t just your mentor anymore, the only friend who came to your aid.

She’s your everything now, a soulmate, your home.

You tell her all about your life, and she tells you all about hers. As she has significantly more stories to tell, you’ll fall asleep many nights to her whispering all the legends she lived through that no one else knows are true.

She makes you laugh every day, and makes sure you always know how much she cares about you. There’s only so much you can do in your hidden home in the woods, but with magic the possibilities are endless and she’s never short of romantic ideas.

Tonight you find yourself lying your head in her lap while she plays with your hair, close to the fire so you can watch the little shows she creates with the flames.

“What about love?” you ask.

“What about it?”

“Out of all the stories you’ve told me, you’ve never mentioned being in love before,”

“Well,” she sighs. “That’s because I haven’t been,”

“Why not?”

“It’s just never appealed to me,” she says. “Until I met you,”

“Oh,” you grin, looking up at her.

She leans down to kiss you, but you’re broken apart by a loud noise outside.

You shoot up, looking at Agatha in pure panic. Your heart races as the noise gets louder and louder, eventually leading to shouting and knocks at the door.

“WE FOUND YOU!” a booming voice yells.

“Aggie?” you whisper. Everything crumbles around you. Your perfect, happy life, now about to be stolen from you. You have no idea how they found you, if you are about to be dead, if you’ll be able to defend yourself at all.

She kisses you and stands up, “Stay here. I’ll take care of it,”

With a fling of her fingers the door flies open, and the torches the townspeople are holding are burnt out. She smirks, purple smoke covering the area as she goes through them one by one, some just throwing to the side and others suffering a painful death.

She turns their own weapons against them, their own people against them, and makes them regret everything they’ve ever done.

When she returns to you, you’re still in so much shock and panic you couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing.

“Did you…kill all of them?”

“They got what they deserved for threatening us,” she says nonchalantly. “But we’re not safe here anymore. It’s time to find somewhere new,”

“Okay,” you nod as she pulls you against her. “As long as I’m with you,”

“I’ll always protect you, even when you learn enough to protect yourself,” she kisses your forehead. “Always and forever,”

 APPROXIMATELY FOUR CENTURIES LATER

 “I’m back, darling!” Agatha calls, shutting the door behind her.

“How’d it go?” you run to her, grabbing her hands.

“Splendid, that poor Wanda already loves her new neighbor!”

“Wow,” you giggle. “You know I must say, this whole living in a sitcom thing isn’t that bad, you look gorgeous in that 50s dress,”

“Oh darling, somehow after all this time you still flatter me,” she pretends to fan herself. “I have to go back over real quick, alright? Gotta give her this spicy magazine,” she holds her hand up in the air and magically forms one in her grasp.

“Ah! Be sure to get some ideas to use on me when you get back,” she laugh.

“Oh I will honey,” she winks, kissing you before going out the door.

You settle on the couch, looking around at your home. Out of all the places you’ve moved to together, this was by far the weirdest. There’s no color, and everyone besides you and Agatha and Wanda are under some kind of mind control.

You never imagined that day all those years ago would bring you here, spending your life with a beautiful witch and being her partner in all things, even sinister ones. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, and you know this strange town will only bring you more opportunities to practice your magic and help Agatha with her plans.

[abbabycchio]

Flowers based on how they feel about you/ think of you. P2

This time with La Squadra! Thank you for the attention I got on the Bucci gang! I love being able to talk about flowers and my favorite characters💕💕 sorry for the long wait!

Risotto Nero: Since you met him he’d fallen in love with you, you were amazing and perfect, and in his most vulnerable moments he’d tell you. Unfortunately being the Capo and the strongest of the traitorous team La Squadra ment it was too high a risk to pursue a relationship with you. So for your safety he had to reject you. 

Magenta Zinnia: Lasting Affection

Striped Carnation: No, Refusal, Sorry I Can't Be With You, Wish I Could Be With You

He’ll send you these flowers along with a note apologizing for any pain it brings you. He sees it as his final interaction with you, but still lets you know how much you mean to him. 

My carissimo. I couldn’t stop the tears that fell onto my legs as I sat and rekindled my feelings for you. The comfort of your voice, you telling me “you’re gonna be alright” always mends my broken heart. There’s something about your voice that gives me the comfort I need. I’ve learned so many things from you. I’ve never been with someone who makes me laugh as much as you. You taught me what a real relationship was by having pillow talks with me before we went to bed. I wish life had a more simpler game plan. I love you so much. Til the day I die I’ll remember you forever.

-Risotto Nero. 

Prosciutto: He sees you as so much more than you could ever see yourself as. That being said he knows how cruel the world can be and makes it his mission in life to protect and love you for the rest of his life. He’s also the only one in the group that goes all out when it comes to buying gifts. 

Red Amaryllis: find incredibly beautiful, value beyond their beauty

Yellow Snapdragon: Gracious. Fascinating. Protection from evil

Dahlia: the lasting bond and commitment between two people

Very silently shoves these flowers towards you and walks away. It’s only until you gain control over your beating heart that you notice an elegant ribbon wrapped around the bouquet with a note attached.

The time is now to believe my promises and trust me to shelter you from the storms that will come in this life. I am truly the knight in shining armor your heart longs for and I am the one who has already given his life for you. I know your hidden fears, but you must learn to look to me when life is hard. I am the rock on which you can stand when all around you seems to be sinking. So stand on my word and hide it in your heart and you will never sink in hopelessness again.

-Prosciutto.

Pesci: he’s like a big puppy, he easily fell in love with you and in the most innocent way. Just seeing you smile brightens up his day and makes him excited to spend any days to come with you. 

Yellow Tulip: cheerfulness and sunshine

Coral Honeysuckle: I love you 

He replaces these flowers anytime he sees that the ones he already gave you are dying so the bright colors are always illuminating your days. 

I’m writing this to tell you that I love you. You’re my first thought when I wake up, and my last when I got to sleep. I need your love more and more each day, like an addiction of some sort.

-Pesci.

Ghiaccio: He sees you as the calm to his storm, he is so thankful for you, and although he doesn’t say it much you know that. Everyday he does his best to learn more about you and create a bond deeper than flesh. 

Purple hydrangeas: EMOTION, UNDERSTANDING, a desire to deeply understand someone

Black Bryony: Be my support

He doesn’t actually give these to you an a bouquet, he likes to place them in your hair, of behind your ears. Sometimes he even makes little flower crowns with the Black Bryony vines and places the Hydrangea flowers around it.

My love, just a moment ago I thought about you and my heart was filled with gratitude. So before another moment goes by I want to say thank you. Thank you for the late night laughs and the early morning kisses. Thank you for holding my hand throughout this life. Thank you for your love and friendship, and most of all thank you for the pleasure of calling you mine.

-Ghiaccio.

Melone: He thirsts for you so hard! After he met you everyone else was nothing compared to your beauty. He physically can't keep his hands off you. After he saw you he immediately pined for your affection.

Black Orchid: ADMIRATION, INNOCENCE, strength, virility, sexual desires, and success

Lavender Rose: enchantment and love at first sight, blossoming romance.

He sends a very professionally designed bouquet of these flowers, bringing more than one bundle a day to the point where you don’t know what to do with all those flowers.

I want you more and more. I often have erotic memories of you and I hurry to get home. I love to feel myself inside you; I love to feel my virile member slashing your skin, like burning iron teasing your desire. I have visions of you on top of me, riding my hips, making me moan with pleasure with your vigorous and precise movements. I love to feel the dense and warm liquid of your pleasure run down my body. I love to feel that you are mine. vigorous but at the same time, defenseless, relying on my arms and the warmth of my body. I love when you fall asleep in my arms, resting your head on my shoulder for countless minutes, after I irrigated your flesh with my abundant semen. I like the taste of your saliva when you kiss my mouth and I like the warmth of your heat when I kiss you between your thighs... I love your kisses more and more, your cuddles and your strength. And I’m writing to you to tell you I miss you too much.

-Melone.

Formaggio: He is smitten with you. Probably the most obviously loyal out of all of the boys, not that all of them aren’t, but you are 100% sure that you are his entire world. In your relationship he tries his best to be as romantic as possible any time that he can. 

Pink Peony: ROMANCE, PROSPERITY, love at first sight

Lemon Blossom: I promise to be true, Fidelity in love

He’s the kind to see these flowers in shop or on a bush, and just takes it and gives it to you. 

To my forever, I think we make the perfect couple. We understand each other so well. We listen to each other. I cannot wait to spend eternity with you, because there’s no place I’d rather be than with you. You’re stuck with me cara, You better remember that! I love us! 

-Formaggio. 

Illusio: Although he is usually a little raunchy by nature, but he loves you delicately. Which surprised the entire gang. His personality switch between seeing you and working is drastic. It’s more of an innocent, refined love. Fancy dinners, passionate nights. He puts his entire ego into making the best dates for you two. 

Cornflower: Refinement, Delicacy

Daisy: innocence, loyal love, and purity.

You would be standing or sitting somewhere in base and suddenly a hand would come out of the mirror near you and drop a bouquet of flowers in your hand.

My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you. I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again, my Life seems to stop there. I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving. I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you.

-Illuso.

Sorbet & Gelato: Sorbet and Gelato were so grateful when you came into their lives, they were already in love with each other but finding you made their already love filled lives more special. When you got the news from Risotto you were heart broken, one day you were happily in love with the two most special men in your life, and the next you were mourning the loss of both of them. 

FORGET-ME-NOT: True Love, Memories

Delphinium: a first love, strong bonds of love.

You had gotten a bundle of flowers at your door step with two notes attached, one was from Risotto telling you that Sorbet and Gelato had sent you a note, along with a few wishes in their Will. The other was the note Sorbet and Gelato had written, only to be read by you after their death.

This is not a goodbye my darling, this is a thank you. Thank you for coming into our lives and giving us joy, thank you for loving us and receiving our love in return. Thank you for the memories we made together. But most of all, thank you for showing us that there will come a time when we will be together again.

-Sorbet&Gelato.

[imagineyourworld]

Hey there! Could I request g. with Luke Skywalker with an inquisitor reader? Congrats on reaching 100, can't wait to read more of your work!

Hi,

Thank you so much <3

That's a really interesting request, I hope I can do it justice.

Love, Charlie

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Luke Skywalker x Genderneutral!Inquisitor!Reader

g. "Sorry doesn't fix everything."

Warnings: Slight age difference (just a couple of years, not specified), kinda self-harm, but not really

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You didn't consider yourself anyone special. You were one of many, one of many children orphaned during the end of the Clone Wars or the beginning of the Empire, one of many cadets in the Imperial Academy, one of many singled out on your fifteenth birthday for 'special training'. It wasn't until you turned eighteen and were sent on your first mission, the only one of your squad to ever receive a mission at all, that you realized that maybe there was something special about you, though you only managed to put it in words once none other than Grand Moff Tarkin, the Grand Moff Tarkin, pinned a medal on your chest and congratulated you to your promotion. That's when you realized that you were special, you were one of only a handful of Inquisitors, chosen and trained to rid the galaxy of the few remaining Jedi or those who still had faith in the doomed order, those whose abilities were too dangerous to let them live. You were good at what you did, if not one of the best, and had countless medals to prove it. Maybe that's why your next mission came from very high up, from Darth Vader himself. The day you met the second most powerful man in the galaxy would change your life forever, though whether for better or for worse you would never be able to tell.

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Vader had sent you to what had to be the worst planet you have visited so far. Tatooine was nothing but a pile of sand, two burning suns and more criminals and low lives than you cared to count. Though for someone high up in the empire, who received a generous salary, it wasn't too bad. Rent and food were cheaper than other places, so you allowed yourself the rare luxury of renting a small suite in one of the better hotels the planet had to offer. The mission itself was simple, all you had to do was listen to locals and maybe ask a few inconspicuous questions to find out whether there were any Jedi sympathizers left in this corner of the galaxy. That's how you met him, and how your life changed once more. Luke Skywalker quite literally ran into you the first time you visited a place called Tosche station. He was just leaving as you were entering, and since he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and you had no space to move to the side the two of you collided. Luke managed to stay on his feet, but you began to stumble and fall, only to suddenly find yourself in his arms. Wow, that kid has fast reflexes, was the first thing you thought, but once you got a closer look at him you realized that he was no kid, at the most he was a couple of years younger than you, though his out of style clothes and long hair made him appear younger than is actual age. "I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Are you alright?", he asked, his arms still around you and concern in his eyes. You didn't know what it was, but there was something about him that made you stare just a moment longer, and heat rise up to your cheeks. "I'm fine. But I might feel better if you bought me a drink", you replied. Your keen eyes noticed the blush that crept up his face at your words. His reaction, and the overall lack of young people, let alone attractive young people, on this planet made it obvious that he wasn’t used to flirting, which brought out a strange sense of accomplishment and possessiveness in you.  “Just wait here, I’ll get us something to drink and I know a shady place to sit down”, he told you before disappearing in the crowd. 

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True to his word Luke reappeared a moment later and lead you to what seemed to be an abandoned farm a short distance away. That’s where the two of you settled and only when the suns began to set did you get back up. You didn’t remember the last time you have had a conversation like this, talking about everything and nothing. In just one short afternoon you learned more about Luke than you knew about most of your fellow cadets back at the academy. He was an orphan, living with his aunt and uncle on their moisture farm and though the two of them were happy with that life, Luke wanted more, he wanted to see the galaxy, a sentiment you could understand more than he knew. Luke was all of the things the people in your life weren’t; open and honest, sweet and funny, warm as the two suns above and quite good looking on top of it. In retrospect you should have known that it wouldn’t take Luke long to find a place in your heart, and your frequent meetings that followed after your first day together certainly didn’t help.  Luke was your first kiss, only a week after you first met him in the Tatooine desert with gleaming stars and a bright moon above.  He was the first one you told about your past, at least a few basics. You told him that you were an orphan, that your parents had been killed during the last few days of the Clone Wars and that you have been on your own since you were a baby. You told him about the loneliness and fears you usually kept bottled up and your unrealistic dreams for the future.  Luke was the first you slept with, back in your hotel suite, after you had treated him to a dinner nicer than any he has had back on the farm. It wasn’t like what your peers had told you sex was like, it was sweet and passionate and lovely.  And even though you tried your best not to, Luke was the first person you ever fell in love with, the first you cared about, other than the memory of parents you didn’t even remember if you were being honest.  Your relationship with Luke was both the only real thing and the biggest lie in your life. He had told you everything about himself, but you had no choice but to keep lying to him again and again, no matter how much it hurt. Maybe that’s why part of you was glad when, after once again reporting that there was nothing unusual on Tatooine, you were told your mission was over and you should report to the Death Star.  When you told Luke that you’d have to leave the next day he kissed you in his unique sweet way and whispered the three words you have come to cherish against your lips.  “In that case I think I should give this to you now. I had been planning to wait til our one year anniversary next month, but I guess that doesn’t matter now”, he mumbled, speaking more to himself than to you. Before you could ask what he was talking about he pulled a small box out of the messenger back he usually carried with him. Gently he opened the box to reveal the most stunning bracelet you have ever seen.  “It was my mother’s, one of the few things I have of hers. I want you to have it.”  You lifted the bracelet out of  its box, admiring how the stones shone in the soft light of the candles around your suite.  “Luke...”, you said, trying your best not to let your voice break. “I cannot accept this.”  You lowered the bracelet to put it back in the box, but before you could Luke took your hand in his and used his other hand to close your finger on top of it.  “I want you to have it, I really do. To remember me by. Besides, the colour really doesn’t suit me.”  You couldn’t fight the smile that found its way to your lips at his bad joke, neither the tears that appeared in your eyes. It really was time for you to leave this planet, to leave Luke, if you didn’t do it soon you feared you never would.  “Thank you. I won’t take this off, I promise”, you vowed as he gently fastened the bracelet around your wrist and then pressed a soft kiss on your pulse point.  “I love you”, he said with a sad smile.  Only then did it occur to you that he had said it multiple times now, almost every day ever since the first time he had said it almost seven months ago, but never once did you say the words back. Maybe it was fitting that the only time you told him how you felt about him was when saying goodbye.  “I love you too, Luke.” 

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Soon after your return to the Empire, and your first visit to the infamous Death Star, did you realize why you had been called back so suddenly. The war against the rebels was picking up pace and the Empire could use all the help it could get.  The next year was busy, you were no longer sent on solo missions but rather trained with the elite forces, taught to fly and shoot instead of fighting with your lightsaber, and then it suddenly stopped.  After the Battle of Yavin the Empire had to regroup, rethink its strategies, and fight a new opponent.  “We have information about an old Jedi temple, you will leave tomorrow and destroy it”, Grand Moff Tarkin informed you in his usual clipped way.  This caught your attention, and for the first time in a while your interest. Hunting Jedi, making sure no children strong with the force would ever find out about their existence and take care of them if they did was what you were trained for, what you often thought you were born to do. Suddenly it dawned on you that the last time you had actually been assigned a mission like this was before Tatooine, before Luke.  “Why me? I don’t mean to question your decision, but there are many older, more skilled Inquisitors.”  Tarkin simply nodded. “I agree. But Lord Vader asked for you specifically. You’re to leave for Dagobah tomorrow at 0700.” 

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Your short research told you that Dagobah was basically a slimy mudhole, but upon arrival it seemed even worse than in the pictures on the holonet.   “If that temple is inside one of those swamps I’m not even gonna bother, I’ll just set fire to the whole planet”, you mumbled as you climbed out of your TIE fighter, careful not to get your bracelet caught on the ladder. That had happened once during one of your first flying lessons and it had cost you almost a month’s salary to get it repaired, apparently the medal alone was worth more than you made in a year, from the stones you might even be able to buy a small planet.  The second your feet touched the ground you felt something dripping down from the trees onto your arms, which you could only hope was water.  Luckily, after just a few meters, you stumbled upon a path covered with mostly dry branches and pebbles.  “I thought this planet was supposed to be abandoned, but this looks almost like someone made this path on purpose.”  You kept walking along the path, checking your datapad every now and then to make sure you were headed the right way.  After what felt like half an eternity of walking you finally reached a small hut, which your datapad assured you was right next to the temple, though since you couldn’t see anything other than the hut and a million trees you decided to investigate there first, who knew what you may find.  A familiar buzz ran through your entire body, adrenaline and excitement preparing you for what was to come. With a slight smile on your lips you ignited your lightsaber, partially so you’d be ready for what- or whoever would be waiting for you inside, partially because from where you stood in the doorway you could tell that it was incredibly dark and the added benefit of a lightsaber was the soft glow that helped in situations like this.  Inside the hut was larger than it had seemed on the outside, mostly meaning that there was more than just one room. In fact, there was a long hallway with open doors on both sides leading to different rooms. The first couple of rooms you checked, if they could even be called that, were pretty much overtaken by nature and rotting away. There was nothing that spoke of Jedi, or any other intelligent being, having been there in recent years. It wasn’t until you were closing in on the last rooms that you heard a low noise, followed by a gut feeling that told you that what you were looking for would be in that room. Though since you didn’t know what, or who, exactly would be in there you entered the room with your lightsaber stretched out in front of you, hoping the red sword would make any possible threat stand down before they could try anything while you would remain in the shadowy hallway to glance inside.  The plan seemed to work, since you heard a small gasp from inside the room just a moment before you realized who it had come from.  “Luke?”  “(Y/N)?”  Both your voices were astounded, shocked, and mournful. Of all the people in the galaxy, why did it have to be Luke Skywalker you found here of all places?  “What are you doing here?”, you asked as you slowly entered the room.  It was then that you noticed just how different Luke looked, how much he had changed since you last saw him. His hair was a bit shorter, his skin paler and his eyes darker. And he was wearing an orange flight suit, the outfit was completed by the helmet in his hand, with the familiar rebel symbol on the side.  You turned your lightsaber off before fastening it to your belt, just in time because only moments later you felt your legs begin to wobble before they gave out underneath you.  Luke, his reflexes fast as ever, quickly pushed a chair in your direction, so you would fall on that instead of the hard floor.  “Luke... Please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”  You didn’t know what made you plead, hated the hurt and fear in your voice, but how could Luke, your Luke, not only be a rebel but be hiding right were an ancient Jedi temple was supposed to be.  “If you’re asking whether I’m a rebel, the answer is yes”, he said after a moment of silence. “But judging by that red saber that’s not the only thing you’re asking.”  Luke astonished you by sitting down on the small bed you only just noticed, one of the few pieces of furniture in the small room. How could he be so calm?  “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a... what do you call yourselves again? Inquisitors?”  You couldn’t help the inappropriate laugh that escaped your lips.  “Yes, Inquisitors. Also known as the only people stopping the Jedi from destroying the galaxy as we know it.”  Luke simply looked at you, an expression on his face you’ve never seen. He seemed to be beyond angry, though there was no denying the sadness in his eyes.  “Is that what you believe? That the Jedi, the few Jedi you and those like you haven’t slaughtered, are trying to destroy the galaxy?”  Not knowing what made you do it you sat down next to Luke, though you did your best to put some distance between you on the small bed.  “Luke, I know this might be hard to hear, I know some people, rebels and Jedi alike, probably told you more lies than either of us can count, but the Jedi are bad. They once controlled the galaxy, did you know that? And they used that control to gain riches and live comfortably while others suffered. They were selfish and deceiving and cruel and Emperor Palpatine was the only one who could stop them. You know that, don’t you?”, you asked. Of course Luke had to know that, know the truth. You spoke to him in a soft voice, careful not to burst his bubble too sudden, to give him time to adjust and acknowledge what deep down you were sure he had to know.  “Is that what they told you? What they made you believe so you would go around killing innocent children, scared old fugitives and all those trying to live normal lives after a genocide? Wake up, (Y/N)! It’s not the Jedi that are bad, it’s the Empire.”  Luke reached out to take your hand and for reasons unknown to you, you let him.  “The Empire raised you, didn't it?”, he asked.  To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You’ve never really told Luke anything about your past, you weren’t even sure whether you told him that you were an orphan, but certainly not what your childhood had been like.  “How did you know?”  He moved closer to you before he answered, reached for your face to lay a hand on your cheek. The sadness in his eyes was even more obvious now, so much so that it took over his entire face.  “There’s no other explanation. If you had known life outside the Empire, if even just for a moment, you would know just how false everything you just said is.”  You shook your head. Though doubt began to creep in on you, the bigger part of your brain knew that Luke must be trying one of his Jedi tricks on you. But as soon as that thought appeared you neglected it. This was Luke, your Luke. Sweet and kind and caring, he couldn’t hurt a fly, much less you, no matter how much time has passed. So was what he was saying true? At least partially?  “They told you what they want you to believe, never let you make up your own mind. I know you, (Y/N), I know that deep down, somewhere underneath all those lies you’ve been told, you’re a good person, and that person doesn’t have to heart to be an Inquisitor.”  There was an expression on Luke’s face you knew all too well. Hope.  He squeezed your hand before lifting it up to his lips to press a soft kiss on the back of it.  “Luke, I... I’m...”, you started, but with how much your lip was quivering you couldn’t finish your sentence.  “It’s alright”, Luke said before pressing another kiss to your hand. “You don’t need to say it, you don’t need to apologize. You know, sorry doesn’t fix everything, but it’s a good start. And if you let me, I can help you. You could start a new life as part of the rebellion, I’m sure they’d be glad to have someone of your expertise.”  As Luke kept talking your head began to spiral. Finally you came to a conclusion, and though you knew it was the right thing, you almost didn’t go through with it, knowing you wouldn’t be able to look Luke in the eyes afterwards.  Slowly you began to loosen your hand from Luke’s grasp and removed his other hand from your cheek.  “I’m not sorry. I’m not gonna say that I am when I’m not. Maybe what I’ve done was wrong, and if that’s the case your rebellion would never accept me, I don’t think I would accept me if what I have done wasn’t for the good of the galaxy, or maybe everything I’ve ever been taught was right and you’re lying to me. Whatever it is, I cannot say that I’m sorry, much less go with you, until I know the truth.”  You took a deep breath and averted your eyes from Luke’s face. You couldn’t bear to look at him right now.  “I know you won’t hurt me, even though you probably should. And I won’t hurt you, even though that’s what I’m here for. I’ll go looking for answers, to see whether I’m the villain you think I am, or the hero I was raised to be.”  As you spoke the last words you got up from the small bed. You could feel Luke’s eyes on you, but knew that if you looked at him, at the face you’ve seen in your dreams ever since you first met, you wouldn’t be able to go through with your plan, instead you’d crumble and fall into his arms, knowing he’d always be there to catch you.  Lucky for you, Luke didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you until you were almost out the door.  “I still love you”, he finally said. “Maybe I shouldn’t, knowing what I now know, but I can’t help it.”  Even though every bone in your body was screaming at you to turn around, even though your heart was aching to catch one last glimpse at him, you continued to walk out the door, out the hut and didn’t stop until you reached your TIE.  And just as you were taking off, after you have ripped parts of your clothes and carefully cut yourself with your lightsaber to make it seem as if Luke had bested you in battle, you finally did turn around and looked for Luke among the trees. And though you didn’t see him, something told you that he was there, watching you. It was that feeling that made you whisper the words you should have said to him whenever you had the chance.  “I love you too. And I’m sorry, for everything.” 

-------

I’m so sorry that this took ages, but I hope it was worth the wait. I really loved this idea and though I don’t think I really did it justice I have tried my best. 

[ghost-in-the-hella]

Could I get "39. holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition", Chasemarsh, Bless this Mess AU?

As you wish :) Same AU as Bless this Mess, but early days. (For those who haven't read Bless this Mess, it's an AU where Victoria and Kate didn't meet until they were adults and therefore Victoria had never bullied Kate) The museum in this ficlet is fictional but based on my own favorite museum, the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art.

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“This… is a museum?” The building before her has nothing of the grandeur that Victoria has come to expect from museums. It is neither cold nor imposing, just a modest one-story building with some whimsical decorative frills around the entrance. Bright colors show through the large windows. There are bronze statues scattered around the grounds, but they’re all of creatures that look like they’d be more at home in a fairytale than at a museum. Children run around the grounds, screaming and frolicking.

“Of course it is, silly!” Kate stands next to the entrance sign and Vanna Whites a hand across the bold letters. “The Leo and Diane Dillon Museum of Children’s Book Art. See? It says ‘museum’ right there.”

Part of Victoria wants to roll her eyes, curl her upper lip, and unleash a comment so scathing Kate will feel flayed to the bone for having the temerity to call this obvious travesty a ‘museum’. Fortunately, this is the part of Victoria that - with the help of her therapist and years of hard emotional labor - she’s gotten better at catching and overcoming before it can claw its vicious way to the surface. She searches for something nice or at least neutral to say instead. She likes Kate. If she didn’t like her, she would be home marathoning something on crunchyroll in her pajamas instead of getting dressed up on a Saturday morning to go out on this date with her. She doesn’t want to scare Kate off by being needlessly rude. “It’s… not quite what I’d pictured when you invited me to go to a museum with you.”

Kate’s smile doesn’t falter as Victoria had feared. Instead, it softens into a grin that does frankly criminal things to the state of Victoria’s heart. “I know what you mean,” she says so fondly that Victoria is both certain and relieved that Kate has taken her comment as a compliment instead of a barely masked insult. “The first time I came here, I couldn’t believe my eyes.” Her eyes - such warm, lovely eyes; Victoria can’t imagine a work of art that holds a candle to those eyes in any museum - sparkle. “It’s been my favorite museum since I first set foot inside. I come here at least once a month.” She sighs rapturously and Victoria’s heart gives an embarrassing squeeze. “We’re so lucky to have such a special place so close by.”

Victoria makes a noncommittal sound, not wanting to quash Kate’s enthusiasm. Kate smiles at her and beckons playfully for Victoria to follow her as she leads the way inside. They’ve only gone on a handful of dates so far, but already Victoria suspects she’d follow Kate just about anywhere.

The museum truly is unlike any that Victoria’s ever been in before. There are so many children, for one thing. The security guards just smile at them benignly, for another. The last time Victoria was in a museum, she watched someone get chewed out by a security guard for having the audacity to take notes with a pen instead of a pencil. Had a parent been foolish enough to bring a small child inside, they would’ve been stalked by security and stared at so ominously they would soon think better of their faux pas, and perhaps reconsider their decision to reproduce altogether.

But here… Here, the children are not only encouraged to run free, they’re allowed to touch things with their grubby little child hands. Encouraged to, even; there are kiosks set up all over the room they’re in with interactive exhibits, as well as cozy reading areas all around full of children’s books, where parents and children can sit together and paw through museum property with their bare and presumably unwashed hands.

“Isn’t this place amazing?” Kate asks, her voice as warm and gooey as melted chocolate. “You can practically press your nose up against the art and not get in trouble for it. I love it. I can really get in there and see how the artists used all their different materials. It’s so inspiring!”

“I’ve never seen a place like it,” Victoria replies neutrally. Honestly, the idea of children near artwork makes her break out in nervous sweats. She tries to imagine how her parents would react to children running loose at the Chase Space. They’d probably have a coronary each. She herself wasn’t allowed to set foot in the gallery until she was solidly in double digits, and even then she’d always been treated like a disaster waiting to happen, a ticking time bomb in Mary Janes.

Kate nods in satisfaction. “It’s really special.” She gestures at the room they’re in. “This gallery always has a show of Leo and Diane Dillon’s works, plus the interactive exhibits. The specific stuff changes periodically. The gallery across the hall has shows of different works by children’s book illustrators.” She smiles bashfully, a delicious pink tinge warming her cheekbones. “It’s one of my biggest dreams to be included in one of those shows.”

Victoria stops short and blinks rapidly, trying to process. “Here?” she asks, dumbfounded. Here, where children run amok? Where your artwork will never be hung alongside that of a truly great artist?? She remembers Kate mentioning minoring in illustration in undergrad, but somehow that had never really clicked in Victoria’s brain as something important. It’s not like she’d studied photography or even painting, something Victoria would be able to sustain a deep conversation about.

“Of course here!” Kate giggles. “I illustrate children’s books. Well,” she avers with a shy shrug, “a little bit, anyway. It’s only a side hustle right now, but someday I’d like it to be a bigger part of my career.” She looks around the room and sighs dreamily. “It would be such an honor to show here.”

“Here,” Victoria repeats, her brain still struggling to compute. She’s fully being rude now; she can hear it in her voice, a shift from merely confused to straight up condescending.

But Kate just giggles again and rolls her eyes, not looking remotely fazed by Victoria's attitude. “Not every artist needs to show at the Guggenheim, Tori. Some artists dream of being showcased in the Whitney Biennial, and some dream of showing in, well, the Leo and Diane Dillon Museum of Children’s Book Art.”

The nickname throws Victoria even more than Kate’s good natured response to her blatant rudeness does. It distracts her so much she almost doesn’t notice when Kate’s fingers suddenly thread into her own. “Come on,” Kate goes on, “I’m really excited about this month’s exhibit. Have you ever heard of Mary Blair?”

There’s a firm but gentle tug at Victoria’s hand leading her toward the doors separating exhibition rooms and Victoria’s awareness sparks to life. Kate’s holding her hand. Her heart dances a little two-step as she fumbles for words. “N-no, I haven’t.” Heat flushes her cheeks and she clears her throat self-consciously. “My art history degree didn’t cover children’s book art.”

Kate nods thoughtfully as she pushes the doors open and returns the security guard’s smile and wave. “She was actually more involved with animation and concept art, especially for Disney. Murals, too. But it’s true; art history classes tend to leave illustration out as a whole. It’s such a shame, really. There’s some fascinating history there.”

Victoria’s never given a shit about illustration - for children’s books or otherwise - before, but she’s pretty sure Kate could deliver a four hour lecture on the subject and she’d have Victoria’s undivided attention for every minute. “Photography gets the shaft, too, especially in survey courses,” she says. “Anything other than art history courses specifically oriented toward photography, really. It’s like if you’re not a white cishet male painter, you don’t matter.” She shakes her head in aggravation. “As though the advent of photography didn’t change the entire course of art history, and painting in particular. Such bullshit.”

Kate gives Victoria’s hand a little squeeze, and Victoria is floored once more by the realization that Kate is holding her hand. Still. She’s not even leading Victoria anywhere anymore; they’re just standing there, holding hands. It’s astonishing. “We should write a book,” Kate suggests. “Shed some light on the more underappreciated aspects of art history.” Her tone is light and teasing but Victoria finds herself considering it seriously.

“I could probably sell that pitch,” Victoria muses. “I have some contacts in publishing. You could cover illustration, I could cover photography, we could tap my friend Taylor to cover--” She’s snapped out of her brainstorming by the sensation of Kate’s thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles. “Uh, but we can work out those details later. If you want to. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me about…” She gestures with her free hand. “...whatever’s going on here?”

Kate grins and gives her a warm nod, not letting go of her hand as she leads her to the nearest artwork. “Don’t be scared to get up good and close,” Kate instructs her, tugging her closer. “We’re not at the Met, don’t forget.”

Victoria scoffs. “As if I could forget that.” She lets Kate pull her closer til she’s scant inches from the art and her shoulder is pressed firmly against Kate’s. “Close to the art… or to you?” she asks softly. She doesn’t know how to look at art this closely; it all blurs to abstraction as she waits for an answer.

“Both,” Kate replies seconds before a tender kiss presses bold and warm against Victoria’s cheek.