#Can I have this image embedded on my grave

[bexleyfix]

Ending Our Friendship

(Stranger Things AU)

Prom photos are posted at the end of the story!

WARNINGS AND TRIGGERS: 18+ ONLY (ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS) NSFW... Mature sexual content, suggestive situations and discussions, smut, pining, angst, fluff, swearing, smoking, drinking, mentions of drug use.

RELATIONSHIPS: Eddie Munson x Y/n ♡ friends to lovers; Gareth, Jeff, Doug, Dustin, Mike, Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Max, Lucas, and El are side characters.

Copying, translating, or posting my work as your own is expressly forbidden. I do not give my permission. Reports with credit to me are encouraged.

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What can I say about Eddie Munson? Well... he's eccentric, erratic, rambunctious, sarcastic, definitely an attention whore... irritable, obnoxious, unruly... long story short, he's kind of a dick. A menace to society whose name, behavior, interests, and all-around heavy metal image have earned him the reputation of 'Town Freak'. But it's an erroneous label born out of prejudice and arrogance, and one he most certainly doesn't deserve.

I'm not exactly a favorite among my peers either. My thrifty style, music taste, and shy demeanor make me an easy target for the ignorant fucks who dominate the high school hierarchy, and so does my association with The Hellfire Club. And since Eddie's a close friend of mine, I'm empathetic. I don't blame him for his behavior, 'cause I know it's a defense mechanism, a way of taking the torment bestowed upon him by the oppressors of Hawkins and turning it into some whimsical public attraction to hide his internal suffering and keep people on edge.

In any case, Munson's a pest. A huge, irritating, aggravating pest... a giant, perverted, flamboyant...... oh... who the fuck am I kidding? Whatever he is... I want him. I want him like a fat kid wants cake. I want him so goddamn bad that every time I lay eyes on him, hear his melodic, raspy voice, or even catch wind of his name, I feel like I wanna hurl. Fuck butterflies, that sexy son of a bitch makes me feel like I have a full-blown professional wrestling match ensuing in my gut. But could I tell him? Of course not. He doesn't see me as relationship material. I'm just 'one of the guys', permanently embedded in the friend zone, and if he ever found out my true feelings it would have grave repercussions on the whole dynamic of our collective friendships. So, I'm forced to put on a face, pretend that I'm immune to his charm, bottle up my feelings, and let them eat away at my insides.

In the four years I've attended Hawkins High not a day has gone by where Eddie Munson hasn't invaded my every thought, innocent or otherwise. Even when our interactions were non-existent, or nothing more than a hello here and there, I haven't been able to escape that scrumptious motherfucker's temptation no matter how hard I try. Ok... so I don't actually try that hard. Fuck it... I don't try at all... but I pretend to.

Eddie makes it a point to bother anyone he damn well pleases, but I seem to be his favorite prey, and I'll be damned if he doesn't get some sick perverse pleasure from incessantly teasing me. It's normal for he and I to playfully flirt and sexually tease each other. He knows he can get a rise out of me without the added contempt he gets from everyone else, but it's a game to him, just a game, one that I secretly love to play, but recently it's gotten a lot worse, and it was becoming unbearable.

Robin Buckley's the only one who knows my true feelings. She's been my best friend since we met in band freshman year. Being a bit of a loner herself, she and I just clicked. She too can't seem to find the courage to approach her respective love interest (our bandmate, Vickie), but Robin's reasons are more justified. Even still, we both live each day in a loop of self-induced torture. Robin at least gets a weekend reprieve, but not me. Sharing the same friends as Eddie, my torture is continuous, resuming every weekday morning in first-period art class, and today was another typical Friday. At least... that's how it started.

~~~~~

"Alright, guys. Today, I'm gonna meet with you all individually to see how you're doing on your projects for the year-end show. And for those of you who've decided to procrastinate... Mr. Munson, I'm looking at you... I need to ok your idea and make sure you have ample time to complete your work, and that your subject matter is appropriate."

"Aww, come on Mrs. S. You know I always finish my work on time." Eddie flashed the teacher a debonair smile.

"You better... if you finally wanna graduate. But your last project wasn't exactly school-friendly." She smiled back in jest.

I remember that project. The perfect example of Eddie's outlandish shenanigans. He'd drawn a Boris-style rendering of himself all but slaughtering his least favorite jock dipshit. But Mrs. Schwagert's one of the coolest teachers in this school, and unlike most, she's not quick to judge her students, including Eddie. She has a way of connecting with all of us.

Eddie scoffed playfully before spouting off an equally playful retort. "That hurts, Mrs. S. I thought you of all people would understand that I took an avant-garde approach, conceptualizing the fight against tyranny in today's society."

"Well, be that as it may, Mr. Munson, your tactless display of violence toward another student won't be tolerated, so I'd like to meet with you first."

I smiled to myself as Eddie exchanged playful banter with our art teacher, gawking at him like I do most of the day until their meeting was concluded, and like clockwork, he resumed his position right up my ass.

"Hi, there!" He proclaimed in his best baritone imitation of Freddy 'Boom Boom' Washington from 'Welcome Back Kotter'.

I closed my sketch pad and looked up. "Now, the Sweathog part I get, but Washington? I don't see it."

"Ok, how 'bout Barbarino?"

He started shimmying back and forth in proper Barbarino fashion and I burst into laughter.

"Um... the hair, maybe, but you're not exactly a chick magnet. You're more of a mashup between Epstein and Horshack. Quick-witted, but super annoying."

"Fair enough." He plopped into the open seat next to me. "So... does that make you Hotsy Totsy, my little... Bunny?"

Oh yeah... every day Eddie makes it a point to devise a new moniker for me that starts with the next sequential letter of the alphabet. Today we were back to B.

"Not quite. I don't have a kid or moonlight as a stripper." I gave him a cheeky smile.

"You sure about that? You look like you belong on a street corner in that outfit."

I scoffed. "It's not that bad."

I looked down at my clothes. Ok, the v-neck crop top and fish nets, sure, but my skirt covered my waist and it wasn't that short. Suddenly feeling self-conscious I wrapped my sweater around myself, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Whatever you say. I'm certainly not complaining."

He looked me up and down with a Cheshire grin, and I rolled my eyes.

"Don't you have someone else you can pester? I'm busy."

"Doing what? More doodles that you refuse to share with me? What do you draw in there anyway? Is it your secret crush? Ooo! Is it me?"

He could not be more spot on. My sketch pad was filled with doodles of his mouthwatering, metalhead physique, as well as some more risqué renderings that I may or may not imagine him doing to me like... all the time. So of course, I lied.

"You wish, Munson."

"Oh, I do, Bunny. But if it's not me, then who is it? That Ian Astbury guy, or uh... what's his face... that wrestler? The one who looks like a roided up Tom Selek, um..." he snapped his fingers in recognition, "oh, Scott Hall? Wait!... It's Harrington isn't it? I know you two are chummy, and I wouldn't blame you. He's a dreamy hunk of hairy beast, but I'd have no problem being your dirty little sidepiece."

Eddie cocked his head to the side, flashed me a suave smile, and wiggled his eyebrows. He was such a dork, but he was right... about the chummy part anyway. Steve Harrington is my friend, which is a fucking miracle in its own right seeing that before he and Robin started working together, I never got a second glance from the 'King' of Hawkins High, but it turns out he's a gentle soul, and not the egotistical, jock douche we thought he was. But Robin puts it best, our friendship with Steve is platonic with a capital P.

"Hmm, as tempting as that sounds... I think I'll pass."

"Ok, suit yourself. Gareth would kill me if I tried to lay a hand on you anyway. Sisters are off limits."

I wasn't actually Gareth's sister, but I've lived next door to him since we were kids, and our families are super close. I do love that dumbass like a brother, but like most brothers, he's an annoying shit with a big mouth, so he has no idea how I feel about Eddie.

"Speaking of your lovable, surrogate little brother, you comin' to watch us practice tonight?"

"I wouldn't exactly call what you guys do, practice. All you do is fuck around and rip on each other the whole time."

"True, but you keep us in check, so you have to come over."

"Oh, I have to, huh? What if I don't feel like it?"

"Well, then I'll be forced to wait 'til Tuesday to waste my sexual prowess on girls who won't give me the time of day, resulting in me crying myself to sleep, again."

He popped out his bottom lip and gave me puppy dog eyes. Goddammit!

"Uh-huh. And... why do you suppose that is?"

"Well, probably because they don't know how to handle my natural charisma and raw animal magnetism. If they knew what they were missing, they'd be all over me."

"Is that right?" I leaned toward him provocatively, making sure to flaunt my cleavage. "And uh, what exactly are they missing?"

He was visibly frazzled, just how I wanted him. He swallowed hard, trying to make eye contact but unable to peel his gaze from my tits.

"Um... let's just say, that when it comes to the utmost in sexual pleasure... I'm your guy."

"Mmm... that good, are ya?"

"Oh, Bunny. I'm first-rate."

"And you think I... would be able to handle you?"

"Maybe..." He swallowed again. "There's only one way to know for sure."

"Is that so?" I looked him over seductively. "Sounds like that'd be one hell of a time."

"You have no idea."

I nodded slowly and smiled, our faces separated by mere inches.

"I suppose I don't." I stared at his lips, watching him squirm uncomfortably in his chair, and I went in for the kill. "Well, Mr. Fantastic, how could I refuse an offer like that?"

I leaned closer as if going in for a kiss and SMACKED him square in the forehead.

"OW, SHIT! SON OF A..."

I sat back in my chair as he pressed the butt of his hand to his forehead.

"I've gotta hand it to ya, Munson, I didn't think your persistence could be any more annoying, but you proved me wrong."

"Ok, I get it. No sexy time from Bunny. Way to crush my ego."

"I thought you'd be used to it by now. You can keep laying it on as thick as you want. I'm not sleeping with you."

"Y/l/n! I'll meet with you now. Get back to work, Mr. Munson."

"Yes, ma'am!" Eddie gave Mrs. S. a salute.

"Saved by scholastic decree. Catch you on the flip side, Fabio."

I smiled slyly, grabbed my sketchbook, and made my way to Mrs. S's desk as Eddie yelled after me.

"Let me know if you change your mind."

"I won't."

Without turning around I gave him the finger. I caught the faint sound of his chuckle and smiled to myself.

~~~~~

With my Walkman blaring, I navigated my way toward the cafeteria through the crowded hallways of Hawkins High, trying not to get knocked around like a pinball when Robin came running up to me in true motormouth fashion.

"Hey-gotta skip lunch to finish my history assignment-try to find a date for prom-meet up with you later-love you-bye!"

And like that, she disappeared into the sea of students before I could get a word in. This meant I'd have to sit with the Hellfire Club today, so I took a detour and headed to their table.

"What's the haps, nerds? Mind if I sit?"

I got lazy waves from the older boys, but Dustin and Mike immediately perked up and flashed me bashful smiles and enthusiastic waves, which I returned in kind.

"I've got a seat for you right here."

Eddie patted his lap. I smiled seductively, walked toward him, and squatted as if about to sit. The look on his face was priceless, but just before my ass made contact with his lap, I straightened up and crushed his dreams.

"Ooo... fat chance, fucker. Scoot over bro."

I nudged Gareth, plopping down in the seat between him and Eddie.

"Well, played, Bunny."

"Bunny? Are you still playing that stupid letter game?" Gareth asked.

"Unfortunately."

"You know you love it."

I flashed Eddie an unamused smile and started digging into my lunch bag.

"No Buckley today?" Gareth asked receiving a shake of my head as confirmation. "Hey, that girl Becky from band asked me to Prom."

I had a mouth full of food. "Mm, I like her. She's super sweet."

"Prom? You're actually gonna attend that monstrosity?"

"Why wouldn't I? Becky's hot. Just 'cause no one will go with you doesn't mean I have to sit at home with my thumb up my ass."

"Oh, sweet burn."

Mike gave Gareth a high five, and I couldn't hold back a laugh at Eddie's expense.

"Wheeler, it's not wise to upset your Dungeon Master."

Eddie flashed Mike an evil grin and Mike's face fell. He quickly turned his attention back to Gareth.

"El and I are going too. Do you guys wanna ride with us? We're getting a limo."

"Thanks, man, but we're hitching a ride with Buckley, Harrington, and Y/n."

"You're going too?"

Eddie looked at me somewhat perplexed.

"Mm-hm." I continued to eat nonchalantly, watching Eddie laugh in disbelief.

"With who?"

I furrowed my brow. Was that a hint of jealousy in his tone? Nah, couldn't be.

"Myself... and..." I waved my finger in a circle around the table to indicate everyone sitting there.

"You're all going?"

"Yes, killjoy. Nothing is stopping you from coming with us. It's a Masquerade theme this year. It'll be fun."

"Fun?! Bunny, I have no desire to attend the masquerade of forced conformity." He smiled smugly.

"Well, we do. So shut your face."

Still sensing the piercing glare of a pair of deep brown eyes, I lifted my head slowly to see Eddie smiling at me, elbow on the table and chin in hand.

"Yes?" I droned.

"Whatcha listenin' to?"

"Music," I retorted, jerking back when Eddie tried to steal my headphones.

"Why so secretive? Isn't she secretive?" Eddie addressed the younger boys of the group.

"Eddie, she probably just wants to eat her lunch in peace," Dustin answered.

"Pshh, then she's at the wrong table," Mike joked.

I shot them a friendly wink.

"Who's side are you guys on? You gotta crush on her or something? Well, you can both stop kissing her ass 'cause she's too old for you."

"I don't. I have the sweetest girlfriend in the world, and she's a genius."

"She's not very smart if she's dating you."

"Shut up, Jeff." Dustin threw a carrot at Jeff and Eddie chucked a pretzel at Dustin and Mike.

"Jesus, you guys are such dicks. Stop tormenting them. Dusty, is Susie coming?"

"I wish. Her dad'll never let that happen. I'm goin' stag... again."

"Don't worry, I'll save you a dance." He smiled bashfully.

"Jesus, this is torment. I'm surprised you're not going with Harrington." Eddie addressed me before turning to Dustin. "You know she draws erotic pictures of him in her sketchbook, right?"

"What?!" The whole table exclaimed.

"I do not." I shoved the side of Eddie's head.

"Do you really?"

"Of course not, Dusty. Eddie just refuses to let go of his nonconformist pride and have a little fun, so he's taking his frustration out on me. You know Steve and I are JUST FRIENDS!" I emphasized, staring daggers at Eddie before turning back to my food.

"Then show me the sketchbook."

"Fuck off, Munson... hey, what the..." Before I could react Eddie swiped my headphones and put them on. "Give 'em back, asshole!"

"Goddamn! This is some heavy shit. What is this?"

"It's your face meeting my fist if you don't give 'em back."

He held me at arm's length as I tried, and failed, to reclaim my headphones, but I soon gave up, crossing my arms over my chest in a huff.

"Ok, fine! It's 'The Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny'."

"Hahaha! WHAT?"

"It's a demo. The band's called Mr. Bungle. They're from Eureka."

"Well, isn't that fortuitous, 'cause my little Bunny is definitely raging and wrathful today."

He screwed up his face, mocking me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Where did you get this?"

"I'm a tape trader, remember?"

"No. I'd definitely remember you telling me something like that."

"Well, maybe if you weren't so busy running your mouth all the time, you'd actually hear what other people have to say."

"This... this is fuckin' brutal. It's like, black metal meets speed."

Eddie was in his own little world. I threw my hands up in disbelief and shook my head.

"See. Didn't hear a damn thing I just said."

"You gotta make me a copy of this."

"You know, you're awfully demanding today."

He shot me a wink and handed over my headphones. I swiped them out of his hand giving him the evil eye.

"I figured you'd be listening to that goth or glam bullshit. What other cool stuff you got?"

"I've got a lotta cool shit. I got this in my most recent haul along with a demo from Guns 'N' Roses, and one from Faster Pussycat. But they're both glam bullshit," I emphasized sarcastically.

"Glam. Gay L.A. music, you mean."

"Oh, whatever, asshole. Axel Rose has some killer pipes. And Kelly Nickels, the bassist from Faster Pussycat... total YUM! He was actually in the running to be the bassist for W.A.S.P. Bet you didn't know that, did ya? UGHH! I swear, what I would give to be the center of a Blackie Lawless and Kelly Nickels sandwich." I scanned the horrified faces at the table and froze. "Um... sorry... I forgot I'm not sitting with Robin." I took a huge chug of my drink and averted my gaze, dying of embarrassment.

"Isn't Kelly Nickels that guy you said looks like Munson?"

I choked on my beverage, hacking, and coughing, leaving no room for subtlety. Stealing a glance at Eddie I saw his smug grin. I had to think fast.

"Uh, I did not say that, Gareth."

"I'm pretty sure you did."

"Well, you're wrong." I smacked his arm, wanting to crawl into a deep dark hole and die.

"Uh-huh... I knew it. You do wanna fuck me."

"Ugg! Munson, get over yourself." I stood up and collected my shit.

"Aw, come on. Where you goin'?"

"I've lost my appetite." I spat at Eddie. "Catch you later, losers." I turned to Dustin and Mike. "Not you two. You guys will always be my little cuties."

I scrunched my nose, kissed Dustin's head, and mussed Mike's hair, smiling at their giddy expressions, then I waved at Jeff and Doug, stuck my tongue out at Gareth, gave Eddie the finger, and left. I could still hear him laughing as I walked away.

Eddie's eyes followed you as you walked away. "Dude, you're gonna bore a hole in her back if you stare at her any harder."

"Hmph, she totally wants me," Eddie said smugly to no one in particular.

"Munson, just ask her out already and put us all out of our misery."

"That would negate the sister rule, Gareth."

"She's not my sister, so if you wanna give it a shot, be my guest. But you gotta stop comin' at her guns blazing, or she's gonna kick your ass."

"Now that I'd love to see."

"Jeff, if I want your opinion, I'll beat it outta you."

"Whatever, Munson, but Gareth's right. If this is your idea of playing it cool, it's not working. You need to stop being so rash... with all of us. She sees right through it, and it looks like it's starting to get to her."

Eddie thought about it for a moment. Maybe they're right. He loved his little sheep, and picking on you was his favorite pastime, but he was being an inconsiderate ass.

You've consumed Eddie's thoughts since the day Corroded Coffin started practicing at Gareth's house. He knew who you were. Being a year older than Gareth you'd already attended Hawkins High for a year, but you never actually spoke to one another until that fateful day in the fall of '83. You heard the commotion in the garage and decided to stroll over. That's when you two were formally introduced, and you permanently imprinted on his mind and his heart. It was the first day of the rest of his life, but you weren't yet 16, and he'd just turned 18 and he was not gonna open that can of worms. It didn't stop him from playfully pestering you every day. And when you turned 18 a few months back he bumped it up a notch, but lately, he's noticed that you've been on edge and not as receptive to his teasing. Was it losing its luster for you? Were you genuinely annoyed? He couldn't let that happen. You were too important to him, but there was only one way to find out, and he knew exactly where you'd be.

~~~~~

I entered the clearing in the woods and hopped onto the picnic table, hoping to spare myself any more embarrassment or harassment by finishing a cigarette before Eddie showed up.

I wasn't pissed at him, just pissy in general. He's been making it so much harder to mask my feelings and my sexual frustration with blatant denial, and I was starting to lash out, which made me feel incredibly guilty. I could try asking him to stop, but then he'd know something was up, so suffer I will. But it was evident as Eddie came strolling into the clearing that luck was not on my side today.

"Ah, shit... can't I have a moment's peace?"

"You're not escaping my sexy mug that easily, Bunny."

I smiled sarcastically, arms draped lazily over my knees. I watched Eddie park his ass next to me, pull a soft pack of Camels from his vest pocket, shake one out, and trap it between his lips. (Jesus, why when it comes to this man does my mind turn something so innocent into filth?) He flicked his Zippo shut and took a drag. Resting his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands together, he studied my face.

"What, do I have something in my teeth?" I started rubbing them with my finger.

"No."

"Then why are you staring at me?"

"'Cause you're sexy." He smiled slyly, taking another drag.

I exhaled heavily, leaning my forehead on my palms, visibly irritated.

"Ok, ok. I'll stop. I was actually wondering what you're doing for Schwag's class."

I whipped my head around, confusion written all over my face. Was I just transported into a parallel universe? Not only did Eddie stop teasing me on his own accord, but he's making small talk.

"What?"

"What are you doing for Schwagert's class?"

He flashed me a sweet smile, which is so unlike him. It was strange but refreshing, and it was stirring something inside me. I suddenly felt nervous, and uneasy... and kinda horny.

"Hey, you ok? You look like you're having some kinda... internal struggle. I promise I won't laugh if that's what you're worried about. I'm genuinely curious."

I was staring at him like he had three heads.

"Um, no... I um... I'm gonna do a portrait series."

"Self-portraits?"

"No, I hate self-portraits. I was actually considering drawing you if you wanna sit for me... and if you can keep your trap shut for a few hours."

His face fell. "You... you wanna draw me?"

"Yeah. Emphasis on the 'shut trap'." I took a drag from my cigarette as an embarrassing thought occurred to me, followed by more word vomit. "I mean, n-not like nude or anything." His smug ass perked right back up.

"Well, I'm not opposed," he said looking rather assuming.

"Dude, seriously."

He just kept laughing. "Ok, ok... but why me?"

"I don't know. You just have this... look." My eyes finally met his.

"I have a look?"

"Mm-hm."

I looked away sucking on my cigarette. Eddie was seemingly deep in thought and started playing with his rings.

"Um... what kinda look?"

"Not a bad look."

His head snapped up and he smiled mischievously.

"Really?"

I rolled my eyes. "Slow your roll, Munson... but yes. Your look, it's... well, it's distinctive and commanding. Good or bad, you can't deny that you have this... charisma... that makes you impossible to ignore. I wanna capture that." I was expecting some perverted retort, but it never came.

"Well, uh... that's... extremely flattering. I um... I didn't realize you saw me that way."

I couldn't read his expression, but the wrestlers in my stomach were at it again, powerbomb after powerbomb, and I felt the need to cover my tracks.

"I do. I mean, n-not like in that way. I can ignore you if I want to. You don't make it easy... b-but I can..." I rested my elbows on my knees, held my fingertips to my forehead, and sighed. "You just... your look is particular, that's all I'm saying." Shit, this was so embarrassing.

"Uh... o-kay?"

"So... will you do it?" I still couldn't look up.

"Absolutely! Just tell me when and where."

My head shot up. "Wow, um... ok, great... w-we could do it tonight if you want?"

I screwed up my face, immediately wanting to shove my foot in my mouth.

"Bunny, we can do it on this goddamn table, right here right now." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Jesus, I set myself up for that one. You know I didn't mean it like that."

He was giggling like an idiot. "Sorry, I couldn't pass up that opportunity."

Sorry? He never apologizes for his behavior.

"Ok, what the hell is up with you?"

"Whatta you mean?"

"I mean, you're being relatively polite, and making small talk. It's not like you. Did we transport to Bizarro World or something?"

He chuckled. "Just call me Eidde." He smiled bashfully. "I don't know. Maybe I'm trying to turn over a new leaf."

"Ok?" I shot him a sideways glance, but he just sat there, smoking his cigarette, smiling. "Well, we can start tonight at Gareth's." He nodded in agreement. "So what're you gonna do? Did you think of more ingenious ways to flaunt your hatred for Carver?"

He let out a huge belly laugh. "Um, no... Mrs. S. shot down my idea for a sequel. I'm probably gonna do an installation so I can incorporate my music."

"Oh! I like that idea. It's a shame about the sequel though. I was impressed with the original, but I'm biased. Carver's a douche with a capital bag."

We chuckled staring at each other for a moment.

"Yeah, well, it's nice to know someone appreciates my artistic talent."

Eddie placed his hand on my knee and gave it a little squeeze, but instead of shirking it off, I patted it, but he pulled away rather quickly, looking like he didn't know what he should do with his hand.

"So, you're really agreeing to help me?"

"Yep."

"Just like that? No... proposition or outrageous demands in return?"

"Well, since you suggested it..." His smile was wicked.

"Jesus, why the hell do I keep opening my big mouth?"

His grin widened. "Since your big mouth is already open, how 'bout a big sloppy blowjob... or I'll settle for a big wet kiss... or... we can cut right to the chase and finally fuck." He nudged my shoulder.

"Jesus, you're hopeless. Is that all? Do you want my first born too?" (Fuck! I did it again!)

"Well, I can cum inside you when we're fuckin'."

I shoved him so hard, I knocked his giggling ass off the table, but I welcomed the distraction of his laughing fit because the thought of him cumming inside me made my cheeks flush and my thighs clench involuntarily. If spontaneous combustion is truly a thing, consider me Spinal Tap drummer number seven. Luckily the position in which he fell and the time it took him to climb back onto the table was enough for me to collect myself.

"You're a fucking pervert."

"I know, I can't help it."

"Well, try." He nodded. "Why don't you agree to come to prom with all of us instead?"

"Um... that doesn't exactly benefit me. So, no... it has to be option 1, 2, or 3."

"Ok, then I guess I'll pick option 4, none of the above."

"Then you can't draw me."

His expression was serious. I didn't know how to react until he snickered and cracked a smile before erupting into full-on laughter. I smacked him upside the head and he yelped.

"You're such a dick, Munson."

He was still rolling, trying to catch his breath. "Ha! Uh ha, hmm... ok, fine, you can still draw me, but prom? That's really not my thing."

"You're missin' out."

"On what? Shitty music and jock scrutiny? No thanks. But I do wanna ask you something."

We locked eyes. His expression was foreign. He's never looked at me like this before. It was like... adoration mixed with worry. Was he nervous? He looked nervous. Or was I nervous?

"Does um... does my behavior bother you?"

I looked at him quizzically. Why would he care what I thought?

"Um... no. I mean, you definitely know how to push my buttons... and sometimes I just wanna strangle you... but you're one of my best friends. I understand your humor. But you do need to lay off the boys."

He looked only partially relieved. "Fair enough. I just... well, you're a cool girl... and I really enjoy our banter, but you seem a little on edge lately, so I just wanted to make sure. I've never had a female friend as accepting as you, so I don't wanna push you away."

I stared at him in shock, like maybe his three heads would sprout horns. He seemed genuinely worried about upsetting me.

"Ok, is this like, a reverse invasion of the body snatchers or something? Who are you?"

We both laughed. His smile was huge, and so fucking gorgeous. Then I saw it. The subtle movement of his eyes falling to my lips. Did I just see that, or did I imagine it? I felt lightheaded and my heart was pounding as he slid closer, smiling as he scanned my face. (Headlock, shoot off, drop down, leapfrog, hip toss, cover, and 1... 2... 3... wrestler pinned... insert pyro explosion here)

I think I stopped breathing, and then... (Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrringggggggg) Our heads swiveled toward the school. Ugg! That fucking bell. We turned our attention back to each other. Eddie let out a heavy breath, suddenly bashful, and awkwardly backed away, and I finally took a breath.

"Um... we... we should probably..."

"Yeah, um... I'll... I'll walk you back."

~~~~~

We walked through the hall in silence, still smiling, occasionally stealing glances at each other. I had no idea how to process what just happened. What did just happen? Was it even anything? I looked at Eddie. His smile was so bashful, almost innocent. It was so fucking CUTE I wanted to hug him, squeeze him, and call him George.

That's it... we were definitely in Bizarro World.

~~~~~

Sitting on the couch in Gareth's garage, my pencil flowed over the pages of my sketchbook with ease. Eddie was my fucking muse. It's amazing what I can accomplish when I'm drawing a willing participant. But when 'practice' was over, I had the misfortune of being a part of the most fucked up conversation in the history of conversations.

"Is that the latest Hustler? Ooo, toss that over here." Eddie wasted no time flipping through the pages.

"Jesus, you guys have a one-track mind."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black. I know for a fact you like to read those cheesy smut books."

I threw an empty beer can at Gareth. "Way to sell me out, asshole."

"Smut books, huh? A bit of a dirty bird aren't ya, Bunny?"

"This coming from the man who has a pile of nudie mags under his bed. And don't give me that 'I read the articles' excuse."

"I do read the articles."

"I'm not talking about letters to Penthouse." I smiled cheekily.

"She's got you there, Munson," Gareth said.

"Ok, my deviance is a surprise to no one, but this little dirty bird seems to be hiding more than just doodles. So, Bunny... what're your other guilty pleasures?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

I flashed him an irritated look. "Eddie, if you think I'm gonna tell you that you're outta your goddamn mind."

"Awww... come on. Don't be a prude."

Gareth, Jeff, and Doug turned their attention to Eddie, probably expecting me to kick his ass. I turned to look at him and sighed. He wasn't gonna let this go, so I figured I'd have a little fun with him.

"Alright... you really wanna know?"

Sitting on the edge of the couch, nodding like an idiot, a stupid grin spread across his face, Eddie anxiously awaited my reply.

"I wanna know."

"Me too."

Jeff and Doug, my peanut gallery.

"I'm not sure I do."

"SHHH! Shut up, Gareth. No one cares what you think."

Eddie was too preoccupied to notice Gareth giving him the finger.

"Ok... fine. If you really wanna know, I'll tell you."

Eddie took a sip of his beer. I could see the excitement in his eyes, so I exhaled heavily.

"Yes, I like smut novels. I draw a lot of erotic pictures, and I too read Letters to Penthouse. I also enjoy watching porn."

All four of them were frozen in place, Eddie in mid-swig and the other three with their jaws on the floor. Eddie swallowed hard before speaking.

"Like, what kinda porn?" He asked sheepishly.

All four boys were waiting impatiently with bated breath.

"Ok, um... well, the softcore, romantic stuff is my favorite, but I do enjoy a bit of hardcore." I gauged Eddie's reaction. He was mesmerized, eyes glued to my face as he took another sip of his beer. "I occasionally enjoy some girl-on-girl. Threesomes are so hot. Two girls and one guy, one girl and two guys, it doesn't matter. Like I said, I'm down for a Blackie/Kelly sandwich. Oh, and voyeurism. I love the thought of watching people fuck while I touch myself... really gets me goin'."

Eddie spit out a mouthful of beer and the others were all in a daze, mouths agape, processing everything I just said, but it was Eddie who broke the silence.

"And... how exactly did you pick up these little... hobbies?"

"Dude, I'm a shy, introvert, outcast... we're as freaky as they come."

"It's always the quiet ones," Doug said in disbelief.

"Mm-hm. Well... now that the cat's outta the bag, I have a date with my VCR and a naughty VHS. Later, losers."

(Suck it, Munson!) I gave a triumphant smile, winked at Eddie, turned on my heels, and headed to my garage making sure to shake my hips as I left.

Eddie sat staring at the ground. "I don't know about you guys, but I need a cold shower after that one."

"Me, too."

"Me three."

Eddie looked at his friends, who were all still in shock. "Do... do you think she's serious?"

He jumped off the couch and bolted after you.

"Hey, Munson, wait... MUNSON!" Gareth sprinted after Eddie and grabbed his arm before he could make it to your house. "Dude! Seriously? She was just fucking with you."

Eddie bowed his head in defeat and followed Gareth back to his garage. He sat down and resumed staring at the ground adjusting his crotch uncomfortably as Jeff and Doug grabbed their gear.

"You guys outta here?" Gareth asked.

"Yep. We'll see you tomorrow."

They waved goodbye and made their way to Jeff's car. Gareth turned his attention to Eddie, noticing his frustration.

"Munson, just fuckin' tell her."

Eddie threw his head back against the couch and rubbed his hands over his face, groaning.

"Come on, Gareth. You know I can't."

"Why?"

"'Cause we've got a good thing going. If I confess my love and she doesn't feel the same I'll lose her forever, or at the very least things'll just be incredibly awkward. But I can't stop fucking thinking about her." Eddie looked toward your house. "You know her better than I do. What should I do?"

"Ok, here's what I do know. If she's willing to take your shit... there's gotta be somethin' else there. No one's crazy enough to tolerate your dumb ass unless they want to, but if she does have feelings for you, she'll never make the first move, so I think you should approach her. I also know that she was lying at lunch. She can deny it all she wants but she really does think you look like that Kelly Nickels guy. That's gotta count for something."

Eddie smiled to himself. "Maybe."

"Well, either you tell her, or I will, 'cause all this pining shit... it's really fucking irritating. And swallow your pride, man. Ask her to prom. You know you'll have fun with her. Go ask her now. She's probably sitting in her garage."

Eddie let out a huge sigh. "Alright, man, but the whole feelings thing... let me test the water... if she seems receptive then I'll spill my guts."

"Good luck, dude."

Eddie gave Gareth a bro handshake, grabbed a couple of beers, and shuffled toward your garage. When he got close enough he heard you talking, probably on the phone. He knew he shouldn't listen but the devil on his shoulder convinced him otherwise, so he leaned against the corner of your garage just out of sight.

~~~~~

"Oh, come on, Robin. He was asking for it."

"Yes but when you do that it only riles him up more."

"Him? What about me? The flirting and teasing have only gotten worse. I can't fucking take it anymore."

"Exactly. You know how he is. If you keep egging him on you're only making things worse for you. Just tell him how you feel."

"Robin... you know I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because... he's my friend."

"And?"

"And... if he rejects me... things'll be super awkward. And if he still wants to be my friend I'll be forced to suppress my feelings just to maintain some sort of normalcy around him, and I'll be no better off."

"Did you at least ask him to the dance?"

"Not exactly. I suggested he come with all of us, but you know how he is. He's too proud to 'give in to the masquerade of forced conformity'." I said in my best Eddie voice.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. Just keep dropping hints. Maybe he'll get the message."

"I hope so. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. I want to be with him so fucking bad, but I don't wanna lose him."

"I understand, trust me I do."

"I know. Well, I'm gonna go watch my movie, take my mind off shit. Tell Steve I said hi."

"Hey, Dingus! Y/n says hi! He's waving at you."

"Nice."

"Well, we love you girly."

"Love you guys too."

I hung up the phone and stared at my open sketch pad, utterly lost in Eddie's image.

Eddie's eyes were wide with shock. He could only hear your side of the conversation, but he had no doubt who you were talking about. Jesus H. Christ! You have feelings... for him. You pretend you don't but you do! This... this changes everything! So why was this dread still lingering in his chest? Nerves maybe? He had to say something, but he didn't want to come on too strong. Act casual... yeah. That's what he'll do... just... act casual. After silently syking himself up he took a few deep breaths and decided to make his move.

"BOO!"

"JESUS CHRIST!" I jumped out of my skin, nearly falling off of my stool. "You think you're funny, asshole?"

Eddie was doubled over with laughter as I sat there clutching my chest.

"Hahahahaha! Ohhhh, no... I think I'm adorable."

"Ugg! I hate you so much, Munson."

"Awww, come on now. You know that's not true. May I come in?"

I released a heavy sigh. "Sure... whatever."

"Here, a peace offering."

He handed me a beer.

"Thanks."

We sat in silence for a moment as he checked out all the drawings hanging above my desk.

"Jesus, you're amazing. I love your style. The way you see the world, it's just... incredible."

"Thanks." I smiled bashfully.

He motioned to my open sketch pad.

"May I?"

"Sure." Ahhhhhhh! His smile makes my fucking insides liquefy.

"Oh, Bunny... these are fantastic! I've never looked so good." He flashed a cheeky smile and flipped to the front of the book.

"Nice try. You won't find anything. This sketchbook is strictly for school projects."

He let out a breathy laugh. "You caught me. I wish you'd show me your personal drawings. You're so passionate about your work. Like I am with my music."

"Maybe someday, Munson." I flashed him a sweet smile.

"Um, you mind if I turn on some tunes?"

"No, go ahead."

He started fiddling with the record player.

"Looks like your old man was listening to Clapton. I'll just leave that on."

"Works for me."

He positioned the record player needle and shuffled back to his chair.

"So... what's on your agenda for this evening... besides hardcore porn... and me?"

He smiled wickedly, pulled his smokes from his vest pocket, and went through his routine.

"Not fucking you, Munson."

I loved hearing him laugh, or talk... or move... or fucking breathe. Whatever the hell he was doing... I loved it.

"So, do you actually watch all that stuff, or were you just fuckin' with me?"

"Uh..." I eyeballed him hesitantly, but his expression was calm, and not flirtatious, so I gave him this one. "Yeah... I do."

He raised his brow and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Well... that's um... that's hot. I was just gonna head home, get high, and play guitar, but now... I think I'm gonna have to rub one out. Care to turn it into phone sex? Preferably while you're still watching porn?"

(JESUS CHRIST! I know what I'm drawing tonight) I rolled my eyes. "Dude! What is with you? You've been so lewd lately. Like, more than usual." He smiled cheekily and stared at me. "No! No phone sex, no fucking, just... no!"

His whole body shook with laughter. "Ok, then I guess I'm goin' solo. So, if you're not gonna watch porn, what are you gonna do?"

I shook my head. "I'm gonna watch 'Help'."

"Can't say I've seen it."

"Really? It's a super corny Beatles movie."

"Oh, I know what it is, I just haven't seen it. Is it good?"

"I love it. It's one of my favorites. I watch it with my mom all the time."

"Speaking of the lovely Mrs. Y/l/n, where are your folks?"

"They're visiting my grandma this weekend."

"Well, that's a shame. I'll just have to schmooze your mom next time. So... was tonight's session enough to do your project, or do you need me to sit for you again?"

(Ok, what the fuck?) "Alright dude, what's going on? You're doing it again."

"What?"

"Oh, come on. For the past few months, you've been... I don't know... a lot more perverted, but today you're trying to incorporate small talk and some semblance of courtesy. So what's going on?"

"I don't know. Maybe I want you to see a different side of me, so I'm talking about things that aren't strictly sex oriented."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Well... maybe I like you."

"HA! Hyeah, right. If you don't wanna tell me the real reason, just say so. You don't need to make shit up."

"Who says I'm making shit up?"

I tried to play it cool, not letting on that the instant those words left his lips Hulk Hogan leg dropped King Kong Bundy.

"Uh... I am."

"Why? Is it so hard to believe that I could see you as more than just a friend?"

I scoffed. "Yeah, a fuck buddy, maybe."

Jesus, it felt like an Alien was about to punch through my chest. I reached for my smokes and lit up trying to thwart my anxiety.

Eddie nodded solemnly, but when 'Wonderful Tonight' started to play, he set down his beer and held out his hand.

"Wanna dance?"

I must've looked like a deer in headlights.

"What?"

"Come on... dance with me."

I snuffed out my cigarette looking at him hesitantly. He grabbed my hands and pulled me up, threw my arms around his neck, wrapped his around my waist, and pulled me close. He started swaying us back and forth, his head nestled next to mine, but when the chorus hit I got ballsy. Knowing this wasn't bound to last, I decided to live in the moment. I leaned my head on his shoulder, squeezed my arms tighter, closed my eyes, and started playing with his hair, but to my shock and delight, he tightened his grip around my waist and leaned his head against mine, grazing my back with his fingertips. We embraced silently for several minutes, and all I could think was that I could die happy at this very moment... and then he had to go and fucking ruin it.

"Go to prom with me?"

His voice was so faint I wasn't sure I heard him correctly. I lifted my head, our eyes lingering on each other's faces, and I scowled, about to lose my shit.

"What? Ok, now I know you're joking."

"I'm not joking."

"Eddie, stop it. This isn't funny."

I broke away and went to shut off the record player, ready to scream. We just held each other so fucking tight, and there was something about the way he touched me. Probably just wishful thinking, but it seemed like we had a moment.

"Al-alright fine. Don't believe me."

"Why should I when you've been shitting on the idea all day?"

He was silent. I slumped my shoulders, released a sigh, and faced him. "Ok, fine, don't answer me. I'm gonna go watch my movie."

Eddie was chewing on his thumbnail, his other hand in his pocket, and he was staring at the ground nodding. He actually looked disappointed, and I had to admit, I felt kinda guilty. I didn't want him to leave, but this charade had to stop.

"Hey, um... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. You don't have to go. I just... I want the nonsense to stop, ok? If you want you can watch 'Help' with me."

His head shot up so fast I thought he'd have whiplash.

"Um, yeah, ok. Your parents won't mind?"

"No, they know you. It's not like we're fuckin' or anything."

"Well..."

"DON'T... say it."

Signature Munson, never missing a beat. Jesus, my emotions were bouncing back and forth like a game of Pong.

~~~~~

We were on the couch in my basement, which also doubled as my bedroom. It was a pretty sweet setup if I say so myself.

"You're right. This is a really weird movie. Not as trippy as 'Tommy', but still pretty bad."

He pulled his arms up to shield himself from my slap but was unsuccessful.

"Oh, shut up. It's awesome and you know it. And so is 'Tommy'."

"No, you're right. I do like 'Tommy'. Ann Margaret's hot." His smile was so goofy.

"So is Roger Daltrey," I smirked. "Ooo, I love this part. Paul using the girl as a guitar."

"Ooo, that looks like fun. Come 'ere."

"What?" He reached for my arm and pulled me across the couch. "What... what're you...? Hey! Hahaha!"

"Come on, sit on my lap. Put your hand on your hip, hold the other arm out... there we go. Now... I play."

I was dying of laughter as Eddie played my arms like a guitar and started singing along to 'Another Girl'.

🎶For I have got, another girl

Another girl who will love me till the end

Through thick and thin, she will always be my friend

I don't wanna say that I've been unhappy with you

But as from today, well, I've seen somebody that's new

I ain't no fool and I don't take what I don't want

For I have got, another girl🎶

Eddie stopped playing, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled my giggling ass against his chest, continuing to rock me in time with the music, only this time, when the song ended, I stayed put.

"I thought you didn't like The Beatles."

"I never said that. I just said I never saw this movie, but my mom used to listen to them too."

I smiled, taking the opportunity to rest my head back against his shoulder and wrap my arms around his. I felt his hair tickle my neck, so I looked up and found him smiling at me. Our faces were so fucking close. I smiled back and he leaned down and kissed my cheek.

"W-what was that for?"

"Just felt like it. I'm having a good time."

"M-me too."

There was that look again. The same one from this afternoon at the picnic table. That look of adoration, but this time with a little something extra. And there was no bell. Nothing to break the trance. I couldn't look away as he scanned my face and brushed some stray hair behind my ear, his hand now resting on my cheek. A flash of eyes to lips, and then...

NOTHING!

He returned his arm to my waist and turned back to the TV.

(Mother... Shhhh... Jesu... what the... oh... SON OF A BITCH!!!) I couldn't even think a coherent sentence, so I turned my attention back to the movie. I must've been squirming too much because Eddie pulled my legs across his lap, which was a way more comfortable position, and I allowed myself to cuddle into his chest. I was so tired I should've passed out, but I couldn't shut off my brain.

"I love this song so much."

I started singing along with John Lennon to 'You've Got to Hide Your Love Away'. Eddie joined in, and we smiled at each other as we sang, and again he rocked me to the music.

🎶How can I even try?

I can never win

Hearing them, seeing them

In the state I'm in

How could she say to me

"Love will find a way"?

Gather 'round, all you clowns

Let me hear you say

Hey, you've got to hide your love away

Hey, you've got to hide your love away🎶

We couldn't peel our eyes off each other.

"You're voice is beautiful."

"Thanks," I whispered.

We stared a few moments longer before my nerves got the better of me, and I returned my head to his chest.

"You know, this whole album is like... a metaphor for our entire relationship."

What? Did he really mean that? Most of the songs were about want, need, and... love. I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't. I just buried myself deeper into his chest in reply, and again his arms tightened around me.

By the time the movie was over I could no longer keep my eyes open. The warmth of his body and his musky scent were so comforting.

"Hey, Bunny... you sleepy? You want me to leave?"

Without opening my eyes I shook my head, clutched onto his shirt, and whispered, "No... please don't go."

I have no idea where my newfound boldness was coming from, but Eddie didn't protest. Instead, he enveloped me in his arms and rested his cheek on my head.

"I won't, Bunny."

I smiled to myself as Eddie shifted us so we were lying down facing each other, my head still buried in his chest and his arms still wrapped tightly around me. I managed to open my eyes and look up. He was smiling, watching me, and like a moth to a flame, my hand found his face, my fingertips lightly grazing his features as my eyes followed their trek... his pale cheek, covered by little grains of stubble... his plush, pink lips, which parted slightly at my touch. He closed his eyes and leaned into it until my fingertips trailed to his cute, button nose, his forehead, and back through his hair, where I buried them behind his neck giving him a little scratch.

"Mmm, that's... that's nice."

He released a faint moan and slowly opened his eyes. They were glossy, wanton, and... unsure. His lips formed a sincere smile, and he started repeating my previous motions. His fingers explored my face, eyes following suit.

"Go to prom with me, Bunny."

His voice was so low, commanding even.

"Eddie, why?"

"Because I wanna spend time with you."

"You already spend time with me."

"I know, but... I just wanna go with you. Please say yes."

I sensed nothing but sincerity in his gorgeous eyes, and his voice, so I willed myself to whisper, "Ok... I'll go with you."

"Yeah?" His smile was enormous.

"Yeah."

He cuddled closer and kissed my head. (Flying elbow drop, off the top rope, straight to the gut) When I looked at him we were nose to nose. He nuzzled mine, lips parted. It was almost like a silent plea, begging me to close the gap, to finally let him taste my lips for the very first time, but I was frozen. His lips ghosted mine. I was practically cross-eyed staring at them, but he wouldn't take the plunge. I felt like I was trying to will him with a Jedi mind trick to just do it already, but the force is not strong with me, and he just lingered... the fucking tease.

"Have sex with me," he whispered, smiling playfully.

"What? No." I poked him in the gut, and he giggled.

"Come on. I know you want it as much as I do... and I think it's time we do something about it."

My brow furrowed, eyes darting back and forth in disbelief across Eddie's face. Who does this mother fucker think he is? I mean, I do in fact wanna fuck him, but that's not the point. It's the principle of the thing. I pushed his chest hard and got off the couch ready to lay into him.

"Hey, what---?"

"That's all I am to you, huh? Some... perverted game or prized sexual conquest? Do you have any respect?"

"What? N-no, that's..." he stood up and gripped my arms, "it's not like that at all."

"Then why do you keep pushing this?! I can't..."

I started to cry, unable to finish my sentence. I wanted to smack him, kick him outta my house, just... anything to make the pain stop, but I was so exhausted from this charade and all the mind games that I didn't have the strength to fight him anymore, so when he pulled me into a tight hug and kissed the top of my head I didn't fight him. I just let him hold me as I balled into his shirt.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I'm just... not very good at this, so I'm going about it the only way I know how, and... well, I'm failing miserably, and um... Jesus, I don't know how the hell to do this."

"Do what?" I mumbled.

He pulled me back so he could look at my face, and caress my cheek. His expression immediately softened, but he looked uncertain and extremely nervous.

"Um, hhhhh... something I should've done a long time ago. I wasn't lying earlier. I like you... a lot... but it's more than that... I'm uh..."

"Eddie... what're you doing?"

There was a brief silence. And then... it happened...

"I'm ending our friendship."

And just like that, he closed the gap and encased my lips with his. The sweet pressure of it, the subtle transition of tongue against tongue, the soft, gentle strokes of his thumbs against my face. It was perfect. I couldn't speak, but I needed reassurance. I slowly broke the kiss.

"Hyou... you're serious... aren't you? You're not just saying all this so I'll sleep with you?"

Now he looked like he wanted to cry.

"Y/n, no... you know me better than that. I'm just... a big oaf, but I would never take advantage of you. I just... I wanna be with you. And yes, I... I really wanna fuck you... but not as a buddy. I want you to be my girl. We don't have to do a damn thing. I'd be elated to just hold you for five minutes, but I need you to know this. I--I'm in love with you."

(DDT into a flying body press, followed by a sit-down drop to the gut) I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the onset of tears. Oh my God... oh my God, oh my God, oh my God... oh my FUCKING God! I opened my eyes slowly. We were nose to nose. He flicked his tongue lightly against my lips, and the bastard fucking smiled.

"Munson... hyou-- you're fucking evil." The words came out with my breath.

"I know..."

He cupped his hand under my knee, wrapping my thigh around his hip, and with an arm around my back, he pulled me flush against him. HOOOLY FUCKING SHIT! I could feel how hard he was as he ground his bulge against my aching cunt. My fucking eyes rolled into the back of my head and my breathing hitched. Jesus, Fuck! He was playing so dirty. I wanted to curse him out, spew every obscenity known to man and then some. When I opened my eyes, he was smiling devilishly.

"But you still wanna fuck me... don't you?"

I nodded involuntarily, as if I no longer had control of my body, and Eddie's tongue shot into my mouth. His kiss was hurried, and vivacious, our faces smashed so close together it hurt... but I didn't care. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and without parting he hiked me up by my thighs and carried me to my bed.

He fell onto the mattress with me on top of him, shifting his body under my weight, continuing to breathe new life into me. His hands found my ass, greedily squeezing before gliding gently up my sides, lifting my shirt. The touch of his hands on my bare skin sent shockwaves up my spine. I broke away just long enough to grab the bunched fabric and rip it over my head throwing it to the floor. Like he couldn't function without them, he found my lips again.

"Mmm, mhh, hhhh... Bunny, I know I joke, but I'm not fuckin' around. Are you sure you want this?" He smoothed back my hair and searched my eyes.

I smiled brightly, tears flowing freely. "Eddie, I want this. I want you."

"Yeah?" He asked, just to be sure.

When I nodded he crashed his lips to mine, drinking them in, savoring them as I've wanted him to for so fucking long.

He rolled me onto my back, trailing hot, wet kisses down my neck, licking softly between my breasts. The heat of his breath was like fire on my skin, and it burned so good. He gently tugged at the front of my bra freeing my perky tits, stopping to admire me.

"Jesus H. Christ... you're so beautiful."

When he finally took a hard peak into his mouth, my back arched, my brow creased, my teeth clenched, and I sucked in a breath of praise, shaking from the stimulation.

"Mmm... Jesus, you're nipples are sensitive. Have they always been like that?"

"N-no... hoh--only when I'm... really turned on. And I-- I've been waiting... so long... for you to touch me like this."

I gasped as he gently flicked my nipple with the tip of his tongue, trailing it up my neck. He placed a chaste kiss on my lips, cupped my cheek, and kissed my forehead tenderly before leaning his on mine.

"My sweet, beautiful Bunny. I've been dreaming of touching you like this for ages, and I wanna take my time with you... to make our first time together last, but I don't think either one of us is gonna make it." He let out a breathy laugh. "Just seeing you, hearing you... knowing how you make me feel, and... knowing how you feel about me..."

He was shaking with urgency, lip quivering, running his hands through my hair, brushing my face with his fingertips... he was manic... and it was beautiful.

"Eddie... I know... there'll be time for all that. I just wanna be with you now."

He exhaled, eyes still shut tight, and he nodded before claiming my lips in a passionate kiss.

"Mhhhh... you're sure about this? About me?"

I gave him a sweet pout, cupped his face, and pulled his forehead to mine.

"Eddie... I want everything with you... and only you."

His whimper was resounding, muffled by my own as we kissed feverishly.

"Mmhhh, Y/n... are you safe? Can-can I take you raw?"

His expression was sweet. He was watching, waiting, yearning as he searched my face.

"Eddie, yes... I love you."

The instant the words left my lips he ravished mine. I ripped off his shirt and tossed it away, quickly locking lips again as he rushed to undo his belt. Without parting we both fumbled with his jeans only bothering to push them just past his hips, and in seconds he was pushing himself inside me. I sucked in a sharp breath, and he was shaking, mouth agape, eyes shut tight as he buried himself to the hilt.

"Ohhhhhsweet... Jeeesus!" He stilled, little broken moans reverberating throughout his chest as we got used to each other.

"Eddie, it's ok... I'm-I'm ok, uuh! Hyou--you can move."

He exhaled heavily and slowly started thrusting, adjusting to the tight space.

"GodDAMN! Hyou, mgghh... you feel better than anything I could've imagined. So soft, so warm... so fucking tight! Jesus, you're perfect."

He leaned his forehead to the crook of my neck as he picked up his pace. I was moaning like a harlot, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. It was pure fucking bliss. I wrapped my legs around his hips, holding him so close.

"I... I couldn't take it anymore." He breathed out. "I--I've been in love with you... since the day we met. Needed this... needed you... so fucking bad. Haww, uhhhh, FUCK!"

My heart skipped a beat. His thrusts were steady, almost prolonged, like he didn't want to consider the notion of this moment ending.

"Eddie, mhhh... I-- I've been dying to hear you say those words."

He lifted his head to look at me, and he was beaming, smoothing my hair back.

"Mhh, my angel. You... you doin' ok? You feel good? Uhhhh."

UGGGG! He was so fucking sweet.

"Eddie..." I ground my hips into him, coaxing from him a delicious guttural moan. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, but I grabbed his face and forced him to look at me. "I'm loving this. We're finally together. Please... don't stop until you make me yours."

He stared at me as if he wasn't sure I was telling the truth. I placed a small kiss of reassurance on his lips, and they turned up into a huge smile. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was about to cry. He immediately claimed my lips, wrapped his arms around my back, and started to move faster. His movements, his touch, his eyes... they said so much, and nothing at all. He made me feel so goddamn good I began to come undone.

"Eddie... I'm-I'm close."

"Uhhh, that's my girl." He immediately rolled us over so he was on his back. "Fuck me, Bunny. Make yourself feel good, ungghh, mhhh yeah, just like that. Hoh, oh fuck! Cum... cum for me, Bunny."

I pressed my hands, to his chest, spread my thighs wide, and fucked him hard until all I could do was throw my head back and scream his name.

"Eddie, oh, ohfuck, FUCK! EDDIE!!!"

I came hard on his thick cock. His body tensed, and I knew he was done for, but I continued to grind and swirl my hips.

"Eddie, I wanna hear you, feel you. Cum inside me, baby. Please... cum for me."

I have never heard a more beautiful sound in my life. He pulled me down, rolled us over, laced our fingers together, and held them above my head, as he ground his hips into mine.

"Mm-Y/n, I'm-I'm gonna fill you up... make you mine. Uhhhhh, fuck... FUCK!"

He gave one more powerful thrust, and his body shuddered. Making the most lewd, yet seductive sound I ever had the pleasure of witnessing, he pumped me full of his seed. Once he was finished he collapsed onto his side, his chest heaving, covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Uhhh... mhhh, h-holy shit..."

He smiled, met my blitzed-out gaze, and started laughing. I placed my hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. When he opened them he let out a content sigh. He reached for me, wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled me into the spoon position. Looking down at me, he tilted my chin with his finger so he could see my face. He smiled brightly as an equally giddy smile crossed my lips, and he kissed me, squeezing me tight. I couldn't describe the happiness I felt.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, Bunny?"

"How did you know?"

He chuckled. "I heard you talking to Robin earlier."

"You were eves dropping?"

"Guilty as charged. I knew it was wrong, but I'm glad I did it."

"Hmm, me too. Do you really wanna go to prom?"

"Not particularly. But I'm not about to let you guys have all the fun without me, so I'm willing to damage my hard-earned rep for you. I just wanna be with you, Bunny."

He placed sweet, wet kisses on my bare shoulder.

"Well, you're one hell of a dancer. Surprised the shit outta me." Mhh, those fucking giggles.

"I know a thing or two." He took his arm from around my waist, laced our fingers together, and held them close to my chest. "I also knew I'd get you to fuck me."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Eddie Munson... you're such an ass... but don't ever change." I turned my head to look at his smiling face, and he kissed me passionately. "Mmm, so... why didn't you tell me you liked me? I was on the verge of imploding."

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I asked you first."

"Hmm, m-hm, hmm! Well, I wanted to. Gareth was my number one cheerleader... but I was too chicken shit. I couldn't stand the thought of losing you if you didn't feel the same way. But when I heard you talking to Robin... it was like... a weight lifted from my shoulders. I love you, Y/n... so fucking much. I fell in love with you the moment we were introduced... but you were so young. So when you turned 18, I just..."

"You started laying it on thick. Jesus, I can't believe I didn't put two and two together."

"Yeah, well... it seemed to have the opposite effect I was going for. Apparently I came off a lot more irritating than charming, so Gareth and Jeff told me to dial it back, and that's when the small talk started."

"I can't believe I was so blind."

"You and me both, Bunny, but now it's your turn, so fess up."

"Hmm, then let me up. I need to show you something."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, just for a moment. I promise."

Eddie kissed my knuckles and reluctantly let me up. I retrieved a stack of sketchbooks and made my way back to the bed. I plopped down and placed the books in front of him.

"Go ahead."

He rolled onto his side, and I watched as he opened them and scanned the pages in disbelief.

"Are-are these for the project?"

"No. Look at the dates."

He checked them all, page after page, book after book.

"You... you've been drawing me since freshman year?"

"Yeah. That's why I never let you see anything. I know that's kinda creepy, but I just..."

"Uh... this one's far from creepy. We are definitely doing this later."

He pointed to one of my more risqué drawings, smiling mischievously, and I blushed.

"Anyway..." I exaggerated, "I couldn't keep my eyes off you. I've been crazy about you since my first day of school. And when we finally started hanging out, and you began teasing me all the time, I fell for you... hard, but by that point I was deep in the friend zone, and it seemed like you only thought of me as one of the guys. I didn't wanna jeopardize our friendship either, so... I hid my feelings. I thought if you knew the truth... that our banter, the flirting... everything... would all end, so I played along. But when the teasing got worse it became excruciating, so I started lashing out. But I love you, Eddie... with all my heart, and after what we just shared... I've fallen even harder."

I was balling like a baby, and when Eddie trapped me in his arms I melted into him.

"Hey, don't cry, Bunny."

I chuckled through sobs. "They're happy tears, Eddie. Just years of pent-up emotion and sexual frustration finally being expelled. And I really dig the name Bunny. You can call me that one all the time."

"Done. My sweet... soft... beautiful... raging... wrathful Bunny." He kissed my lips between every word. "Mmm, mhh. Can I spend the night?"

"What? Oh, fuck no! Get your shit and go. I got what I wanted." I smiled playfully.

"Hey now, there's only room in this relationship for one asshole."

"I beg to differ."

He wiggled out of his jeans, pulled me down with him and we held each other close. It took mere minutes for us to succumb to the exhaustion. It was the best night's sleep I've had in a long time.

~~~~~

Prom night had finally come. My house was abuzz as all the girls gathered here to get ready while our parents socialized. I was a ball of nerves waiting to see what Eddie had in store for me.

"Alright, look up and hold still... now close your eyes." Nancy lifted my chin and proceeded to apply my eye eyeliner.

"Thanks for doing this, Nancy. Robin and I aren't really make-up girls."

"Don't mention it. You're much less fidgety than Robin."

Nancy was such a sweet girl. Another perk of being friends with Mike and Steve.

"There we go. Hand me your lipstick."

I did as she asked, and she proceeded to apply.

"So... how are you and Munson dealing at school? Blot."

I opened my mouth and clamped my lips down on the piece of toilet paper Nancy was holding.

"Well, we had our fair share of jock harassment on Monday, but I nipped that one in the bud."

"Yeah, Jonathan and I dealt with that crap too. Just let it roll off your shoulder. People eventually get bored. And how about prom? I never thought I'd see the day when Munson would attend."

"Yeah, he feels like he's going against everything he stands for, but if you ask me, I think he's secretly enjoying himself. He won't tell me a damn thing about his outfit, just that I needed to wear black and red. Steve took him shopping, but Eddie swore him to secrecy. All Steve would say is that once he showed Eddie that he could look good and keep his metalhead flair he was very receptive. Steve was proud of him."

Nancy flashed a sweet smile.

"Nancy! Y/n! Get your asses up here! The boys will be here any minute!"

"Keep your panties on Robin, we're comin'!" I took a deep breath as Nancy put the finishing touches on my make-up.

"Ok, all done."

I took one last look at myself in the mirror. My hair was huge, but it fit the theme, and my make-up looked amazing.

"Nancy, you're a miracle worker. I appreciate it!"

"No problem. I love these colors on you. Too dark for my taste, but they suit you."

We smiled at each other, put on our masks, wrapped an arm around each other, and squeezed each other's shoulders.

"Well... you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Nancy took my hand and we headed upstairs.

~~~~~

"AHHHHH!!! You... look... amazing. Eddie's gonna flip his shit."

"Thanks, Robin."

"Alright girls, get together. I want some pictures. Make sure you have your masks."

"Mom, wait. Where's Max and El."

"We're right here!" Max yelled, dragging El behind her.

We all gathered in my living room in front of the fireplace, pushing and shoving, trying to get situated.

"Alright, girls. Everyone look this way. One... two... three!"

"Cheeeeeeese!" We all chimed in unison.

We appeased our parents with several photos and that's when we heard the horns.

"Ooo! They're here. Come on let's go!"

Robin grabbed my hand and yanked me toward the front door. Standing in the driveway we watched as two limos pulled up the street. Girls and mothers alike joined the reprise or 'ooo's' and 'ahh's' and 'wows' as the boys piled out of the limos dressed to the nine. They were all so handsome.

"I don't see Eddie."

As soon as the words left my lips it was like the parting of the Red Sea. All the boys moved to the side to reveal Eddie in a devil mask wearing all black save for the red paisley vest and the trim that lined his leather waistcoat. It was gothic steampunk meets metalhead pirate. When he removed his mask he was smiling.

"Someone catch me, I think I'm gonna faint."

Robin grabbed my arm. It was like time stopped, save for Eddie and me. I stood there with my jaw on the ground, eyeballing him up and down as the boys made their way toward us. It was like watching a slow-motion male model montage. When Eddie was finally in front of me he pulled a single long-stemmed rose from behind his back and presented it to me.

"My lady."

I took it hesitantly, unable to speak. I just gawked trying to find my voice.

"You um... ha! Good God you look... so goddamn fuckable," I managed to whisper.

He chuckled. "Hmm, later. I see you followed my instructions. You look absolutely gorgeous. And the bunny mask? Excellent touch."

"I like yours too. Is that your way of protesting your participation in the forced social conformity?"

He chuckled and nodded. "I thought you'd appreciate that."

He claimed my lips with so much passion I forgot we were surrounded by a giant group of people, including my parents.

"Alright, alright. Break it up you two."

We broke apart in protest. Eddie looked at the ground sheepishly, and I pawed at my face, making sure my make-up wasn't a mess.

"Um, sorry Dad."

"Yeah, I'm sorry Mr. Y/l/n. She's just..." Eddie turned to look at me, "so beautiful."

"Mm-hm, she's also my little girl, so mind your manners." My dad held out his hand to Eddie, which he shook happily and with much relief. "You clean up nice, Eddie."

"Thanks, Mr. Y/l/n." They smiled before my dad clapped Eddie's shoulder in approval.

"Oh, get outta the way. Let me take a look at you, Eddie." My mom cupped his cheeks and gave him a once-over. "You look so handsome."

She trapped him in a hug, kissed him on the cheek, pulled back, and smiled.

"Thank you, Mrs. Y/l/n."

He kissed my mom's hand, making her blush, and then she ran to her next victim.

"Gareth Emerson, get your butt over here! Ooo, and who is this pretty lady?"

My mom's voice trailed off and Eddie and I laughed, focusing on each other. After several minutes of socializing and more pictures, I reminded my parents that we were all spending the night at Steve's, and then we finally made our way inside the limos and headed to Hawkins Hall.

~~~~~

The prying eyes were everywhere, but to our surprise, they were out of delight and not hatred.

"Bunny, is it just me, or have the jocks backed off lately?"

"Yeah, I may've had something to do with that."

"Oh? How's that?"

"Well, Monday was the last straw, so I told Carver that if he doesn't shut his dick licker and leave us and the other outcasts alone, the whole school would find out what he and his goons do in the locker room when they think no one's looking."

"Hahaha! What?! Are you serious?"

"Mm-hm."

"And how, pray tell, did you come across that juicy bit of gossip?"

"Well, it pays to have an ex-jock as a friend."

"Wha... Harrington told you this?!"

"That I did, my good man." Steve appeared out of nowhere and clapped Eddie on the shoulder. "Y/n came to the video store a few months back practically in tears, and I was pissed. I can't stand those assholes either, so... I figured that information might come in handy."

"Harrington, I could kiss you."

"Please don't."

They both smiled, and with a chuckle, Eddie patted Steve on the back.

"Thanks for the help, man. You're alright."

Steve gave Eddie's shoulder another pat and proceeded to escort Robin into the building. ~~~~~

I'm surprised none of us passed out from exhaustion. We sat only to eat. The rest of the time we were on the dance floor regaling each other with our moves.

Lucas was a break dancing and moonwalk prodigy. Dustin is a master at the worm. Max and El can replicate any Madonna move known to man. It was a fucking riot. We were cracking each other up with the more ridiculous dances, like me catching Eddie with the fishing pole, Steve and Robin doing the sprinkler, Steve, Eddie, Jonathan, Robin, me, and Nancy doing the library dance from 'The Breakfast Club', all the younger boys doing the Robot, and the lot of us doing the running man. Eddie even had a chance to flaunt his usual shenanigans, which meant dancing on top of a table. That was until Mrs. S. came over and made him get down. And me being a closet disco nerd was forced by Robin to do John Travolta's dance from Saturday Night Fever. I was so fucking nervous, but the cheers, and accompaniment of several other students who also knew the dance, including Robin and Chrissy Cunningham, helped my fear to dissipate. And of course, the majority of the student body performed Michael Jackson's Thriller. At the end of the night, to no one's surprise, Jason and Chrissy were crowned prom king and queen.

It was almost surreal. For the first time in... well, ever... there was no anger or animosity. Everyone in the building was getting along, and when it came time to leave, Chrissy made sure to find me and tell me how much fun she had dancing with me. She gave me a sincere smile and a big hug, but the strangest thing of all was when Jason confronted Eddie, but instead of disdain he offered a handshake thanking him for the entertainment. Eddie accepted his hand and congratulated him on winning prom king, and they actually smiled at each other. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I wouldn't have believed it.

When it came time for the after-party at Steve's house, Eddie and I took the opportunity to slip away and head back to his trailer so we could be alone.

~~~~~

We devoured each other like animals as we made our way through his trailer to his room. Feverish, sloppy kisses, lips and chins and necks, back to lips, until he pulled away, revealing a malevolent smile.

"As gorgeous as you are in this dress... I've been waiting all night to get you out of it. Off... now."

I did as he commanded, slowly peeled off my dress, and let it fall to the floor. My black lace bra and panties, stalkings, and garter belt were all that remained.

"Jesus Christ, you're stunning, Bunny."

Eddie stared at me with a carnal desire, drinking in the sight of my body, removing his clothing until he was shirtless. He advanced toward me slowly and started running his hands gently up my sides, and around my shoulders so he could unclasp my bra. I stood completely still as he dropped the flimsy article to the floor. He backed away slowly, his eyes glued to my tits. When he met my gaze I made a show of removing my panties, but when I tried to remove my stalkings he grabbed my hands.

"No... leave 'em on. The garter belt too. You're perfect just like this."

Eddie was breathing heavily, blackness consuming his eyes. He leaned forward to trap my nipple between his lips, sucking, licking, teasing each one in turn as I cradled his head, my needy whines and mewells filling the room.

"Mrrmm, Eddie... hyou-you're gonna make me cum."

"Mhhhh..." He released my nipple with a pop and straightened up. "Not yet, Bunny. I wanna taste you first." He gently cupped my tits and licked at my lips until I took his tongue into my mouth. "Hmmm... can I taste you?" He whispered his words, his hot breath sweeping across my face.

"Hhhhyes."

Before I knew it I was on my back, and Eddie was licking a slow, soft trail down my stomach. He latched his lips to the tender flesh of my waistline and sucked a deep purple mark into my skin.

"Mmm... you're mine now, Bunny. I can finally take my time with you."

All I could do was moan at his words. He kissed his mark, knelt on the floor in front of me, and pulled me to the edge of his bed. I could feel his hands, the cool metal of his rings, smoothing gently over my inner thighs, spreading them. I caught the sound of an inhale and felt his warm breath against my wet heat when he exhaled.

"Oh, Bunny, your scent... I need it all over me. On my fingers... my face... hmmm, my tongue. Look at me." I lifted my head long enough for his eyes to silently ask for permission. I gave him a shy nod, but instead of diving in like I figured he would, he lingered, took a quick taste with a flick of his tongue, and savored.

"Mgghh, Christ, that's so sweet."

The instant I felt his fingers slip into my folds I shrieked. His touch was gentle, massaging my thigh with one hand as his fingers barely grazed my inner lips and my clit. It was at that moment I knew that he was hell-bent on torturing me, teasing me, prolonging my pleasure until I was ready to burst. He wasn't going to give me what I so desperately wanted, not until I was begging for it, for him... and I would. I would do anything this man asked of me if it pleased him. When I felt the tip of his finger trace light circles over my clit I wanted to cry. I had a moment's reprieve when he stopped to lick his fingers clean.

"Mmmm, hhhhhh, Bunny, you taste like heaven... but if you don't stop squirming I'm gonna have to pin you down."

"Eddie... wh-why are you being so cruel?"

"Oh, Bunny... I've only just begun."

He blew a light stream of air on my clit until I whined, then he licked me gently from my dripping hole to my hard bud. I was thrashing around, trying to quell the sensation, only to have my thighs pinned to the mattress, by his strong, unyielding grip. Using the tip of his tongue he lightly teased the sensitive skin of my lips, and toyed with my swollen clit until I was sobbing from the pleasure. I tried to touch my sensitive nipples, to rush my release, but he reached up, locked his hands around my wrists, and held them at my sides so he could use his forearms to pin my thighs, then he flattened his tongue and licked from my ass to my clit. I screamed in frustration.

"Eddie, for fuck sake, please! Please let me cum."

He ignored my plea, continuing to fuck me with his tongue until he was ravenous. His pace not letting up as he devoured my pussy like he was starving.

"Holy fucking shit, Munson! Stop... please, just, just fucking stop!"

He halted immediately, breathing heavily. When he took a hand from my wrist to wipe his face, I made my move, twisting violently until I was free of his agonizing hold. I got to my knees, grabbed him by his belt, and pulled him roughly onto the bed, pushing him onto his back. I crawled up his body, straddled his head, and sank my cunt onto his waiting mouth. He dug his fingers into my thighs, the pain shooting through me, but I didn't care. I could finally get what I wanted.

"Mhhhh, Eddie... Yes, YES!" He moaned at my praise, sending chills up my spine. Fuck! The things this man can do with his mouth. I tangled my fingers tightly into his hair and fucked his face. "Munson... hoh... shit, SHIT!!! Hyou... you're gonna tell me... every dirty detail... about how you learned to do this... so fucking well! Fuck, I wanna cum for you!"

He moaned into my pussy. I could hardly control my breathing as small high-pitched whimpers escaped my lips. I was so close to the edge.

"Mhhhhhh..."

The vibrations of his moans, his caressing lips, and the flick of his tongue against my clit were making me buck even harder as his painful grip on my thighs held me steady. I've never felt pleasure like this. He was too good, I could feel a sensation so incredibly earth-shattering building inside me. He must've felt it too 'cause he reached up to tease my nipples, as he feasted, lapped, licked, and sucked at my dripping pussy. My whimpers were loud, shameless, and FUCK were they warranted. I was plunged into a realm of pleasure and bliss, and Eddie was the cause. I let go of his hair, cupped his hands over my tits, and ground my pussy against his face as I experienced the most intense orgasm in the history of sex.

"OhhhhhhFUCK!!! Oh... GOD!... Eddie, EDDIE... Holy SHIT!!!"

"Mmmm, that's it, Bunny. Mhhhhhh."

I continued screaming his name as he greedily sucked and lapped at the sticky mess that poured from my pussy.

"Mmmmm! Fuck! You're taste... it's so goddamn satisfying! Hhhmm!"

He lapped once more at my overstimulated clit. I tried to steady my breathing as I climbed off of him, collapsing onto my back. Breathing heavily he turned his head to look at me, rolled onto his side, and propped himself on his elbow so he could stare at me. His eyes trailed up and down my body, so I decided to tease him. He was in the perfect position to watch. I put my knees up and spread them wide, dipping a finger into my still-dripping folds. I coated it with my slick juices and ran a trail of cum up the middle of my body before raising my finger to his lips. He let out an adorable whimper before sucking it clean.

"Mmmmm... Jesus Christ... you're fucking intoxicating."

He shifted his body, hovering above me so he could trace the trail of cum with his tongue, then he pressed his weight against me, kissing me deeply, passionately before he got to his knees to unbuckled his belt. He undid his pants and pushed them off. Once they were on the floor with the rest of our discarded clothing, he leaned over me, the head of his throbbing cock pushing against my heat. He took my hard peaks into his mouth once more gently teasing my sensitive nipples with the tip of his tongue. The soft tickles were too much to bear, and I almost came, only to be denied. He sat back on his heels, his knees spread wide so his massive erection was standing at attention between my legs, but before he could pull me toward him I quickly got on all fours facing him and wrapped my lips around his swollen head.

"Ohhhhhhhhh..." he breathed out.

He started convulsing as I used my tongue to toy with his slit. I sucked his head into my mouth and slowly swallowed him whole until my nose was touching his coarse, dark pubes. He brushed his fingers through my hair, holding it back so he could watch as I took him in and out of my mouth.

"Oh, Bunny... uhhhhyeah... suck me, beautiful... just like that... ohhhhhh."

Still sitting on his heels he leaned back, braced himself on his hands, and spread his knees wider. I pulled all the way off of him before sucking him into the back of my throat.

"OH!! God...DAMMIT!!!"

I swallowed hard around him, releasing him to catch my breath, and sank again, slurping and gagging as he used one hand to hold my head, and I loved every second of it. When he let me surface for air his chest was heaving. I grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed as I vigorously sucked his tip. He sucked in a hiss, his breath catching in his throat, chest heaving as I started to work him faster. His vocals just made me more feral.

"Oh...SWEET JESUS!!! You're... you're fucking phenomenal... Uhhnnggg..."

My strokes and his breathing became more erratic.

"Oh, oh, fuck! That's my good girl, my good Bunny, mhhhhh... keep-keep going. Take me deep. OhhhhhhFuck! YES!"

With his fingers clenched in my hair and his cock lodged deep in my throat, I sucked his soul through his dick. His body was shuddering, jolt after jolt of sexual electricity, until he pulled my head up.

"Jesus Christ! That-that's so fucking good, hhmhh... but I don't wanna cum yet..... HOH! GODDAMN!"

His whole body tensed as I licked him from balls to tip, sucking his sensitive head one last time. When he opened his eyes he caught my smug smile, threw his head back, and started laughing.

"That was payback, you teasing fuck."

His laugh morphed into a heady moan as I trailed my tongue through his pubes, over the wiry muscles of his stomach until I was on my knees, teasing his hard nipple with my tongue. He caressed my head tenderly as I suckled before he forced it up and shoved his tongue down my throat.

"MmmHmmm... hhhhhhh. O-ok, I get it. I've met my match. Now lie back baby girl."

With his knees under my thighs and my hot wet cunt begging to be filled, we made eye contact.

"Oh, Bunny... you're so gorgeous it hurts. Are you ready for me?"

"Munson, if you don't put your dick inside me, like yesterday, I'm never speaking to you again... now fuck me!"

I threw my head back and whimpered as Eddie grasped my thighs and plunged his cock deep inside me.

"Oh, FUCK! Munson! PLEASE!"

I stared at him through half-lidded eyes, mouth agape as I rubbed my tits. With every powerful thrust I became more and more excited... and so very close to another intense orgasm. He used a thumb to tease my sensitive clit. I arched my back, my tits moving up and down with every heavy breath. He dug his fingers into my thigh, still teasing my clit as he continued to pound into me, willing me to scream his name.

"Oh... FUCK! EDDIE!!! Oh my God. I'm gonna cum!!!"

"That's it Bunny... take my cock. Wanna, MRRGGG! Wanna watch your sweet pussy gush from what I do to you. I want it all over me."

"Oh, that fucking mouth, Munson!"

"You mean this mouth?"

He wrapped his arms around the small of my back, leaning down to lick and kiss my navel, then he lifted me upright so he could claim my tits again, licking and sucking as he held me close, his course hair rubbing against my clit as he fucked up into me. My walls started to clench around him, so he laid me down and ran his hand from my tits back to my clit.

"Scream for me, Bunny... scream my fucking name!"

He commanded me, letting his head fall back as he fucked me and continued to rub circles around my clit with his thumb.

"Oh... holy shit, Eddie! EDDIE! Oh my GOD!"

Screaming, I clenched the sheets and a burst of liquid sprayed all over his abdomen.

"YES! OHHHHHHFUCK!!! I'm-I'm gonna bust. C-can I come inside you?"

"Yes! Do it!"

He slammed into me one last time and his whole body tensed.

"Ohhhhh, Fuck!!! God.... DAMMIT!!! HOHHHH, ohhh my gorgeous girl."

His fingers dug into my waist until he rode out his release and collapsed on top of me. I threw my limbs around him as he poured all of his emotion into our kiss. I was on the verge of tears.

"Munson... I love you. I love you so much." We hugged each other so tight. "Hyou... you can do that to me forever if you like."

He looked up, still breathing hard, and smiled. Staring into my eyes with all the love in the world, he brushed some hair from my face, placed one more passionate kiss on my smiling lips, rolled us onto our sides, and pulled me tightly to his chest.

"Hmm, my beautiful, raging... wrathful, Bunny. I love you more than life itself. Ending our friendship was the best decision we ever made."

•••••❤️❤️•••••

Thank you for reading! Be excellent to each other, and get your Munson on!

🤘

Freddy 'Boom Boom' Washington from 'Welcome Back Kotter'... Hi there!

Vinnie Barbarino from 'Welcome Back Kotter'

The Beatles 'Another Girl' video from the movie 'Help'

Your prom dress and mask.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fandom #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #angst #eddie munson fluff #hawkins high #stranger things au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #friends to lovers #mutual pining #Eddie Munson prom #18+ mdni #mdni #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #Doug stranger things #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #steve harrington #robin buckley #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #nancy wheeler

[lexezombie]

Heres the other 2 species I mentioned in my last Trolls post <3

based on MLP + Polly Pockets specifically

I only have 3 ocs for each that will pop up in future arts, but heres some interesting fun facts:

Unicorns alt names are 'Pretticorns', 'Tiny Horses' or 'Mini-Ponies'

Polly Pockets are Sprites or Pocket-Sprites

Pocket-Sprites:

Are barely an inch taller than the trolls (not counting the trolls hair)

Can use magic to summon little fae wings

Can perform magic tricks like summoning things out of thin air; Can basically grant (small) wishes

All of them have 'wands' (sometimes literal, sometimes just the star charm)

The wands boost their power, but they can still do magic without them (they're a special, significant item)

EVERYONE is named Polly; They refer to each other by last name

The sprite in the image is Fields (the other two I have are Crosby & Graves)

Pretticorns:

Literally like a foot tall, they're not that big

All of them have glitter on their legs towards their hooves

Can levitate things with their horns and teleport small distances

Crystals are special to them and all can detect gemstones

The gemstone on their flank gives them their power (embedded in their skin on one side, think SU rules; it sticks out, not flat)

Horns, hoof-glitter + gemstone are all the same colour

Trolls and other tiny creatures can steer a unicorn by their ears when riding them

Pretty friendly most of the time

The one pictured is Topaz (her other two friends are Shimmer & Ivy; the troll is unnamed and is just for size example)

#lexart #trolls #trolls species #trolls oc #dreamworks trolls #dreamworks #pony #mlp #polly pocket #original characters #concept #designs #Trolls 2 #trolls world tour #trolls 3 #trolls band together #Guy Diamond #Guy Diamond Trolls #Topaz (oc) #unicorns #unicorn #Fae #Sprites #pocket-sprites #pretticorns #tiny horses

[hotwings0203]

Bully!Dabi pt. 3

Tags: @shikamaruscumrag @pinkiy13l @an-ambivalent @luno614 @sukunasleftkneecap

Tw:dubcon, noncon, bullying, manipulation, Russian roulette

“Doll? Come on out and I won’t hurt you too bad.”

You wait with bated breath as he walks right past your hiding place behind some crates, blue fire licking up the sides of his body and held in the palms of his scarred hands.

He’s mad, you know he is. He’s teasing you, of course he is, why else wouldn’t he just turn on the lights and pounce?

No, this is another punishment of sorts. A punishment for escaping your previous punishment from being locked in your room.

Another lash of burning cobalt strikes against a wall about 10 feet away from you, and you curse yourself internally. If only you had just stayed in bed a couple days more, if only you hadn’t snuck out when he left, if only, if only…

“Baaaabbyyyyy”

It sounds so wrong and uncharacteristic coming out from his gravely voice.

You huddle your limbs even closer to yourself, paying no mind to the cramping in your knees from being squished for so long.

It’s been about 25 minutes or so from what you can remember. It’s hard to remember anything that happened this bland morning anyways when the climax of your life was seemingly taking place here, after you entered the wrong room.

You had honestly just wanted a peek outside of Dabi’s room and maybe a drink of water, nothing more.

Or so you tell yourself.

But can you really be blamed? Who else wouldn’t have run out the moment they got a chance after spending almost two weeks in the same shitty room, being used as fuckmeat and only given bread scraps and salty cum as meals.

It didn’t matter how close he held you at night, how his strokes seemed to brush up against all the right places, how he tried catching your eye every time he wanted to talk about anything (which you would never really indulge in, only giving him a soft grunt or a nod). He was a monster, a demon in disguise that was keeping you against your will in his clutches.

A loud crash closer than before hits your ears, and you stifle an impending whimper. You can tell he’s roamed closer than before, finding nothing from his earlier place in the front of the storage room.

“I’m getting pretty fucking tired of repeating myself doll. You must be even more of a masochist than I thought since it’s like you want me to fuck you up even worse than I did before.”

His words are quiet but they do enough to cause a loud beating in your already-pacing heart, so loud in fact that you fear he can hear it racing a mile a minute.

You wonder if anyone is nearby, if they even remember you’ve been missing for a while now.

“Y/N”

“Come out, pretty girl. You know I miss you”

But you don’t miss him.

What you do miss, however, is not being chased into an empty storage room and hounded like a fucking dog. You miss joking with Twice, painting your nails with Toga, making Shigaraki chuckle.

All of a sudden, the crate next to you is covered with hellfire. The flames that are thrust from Dabi’s hands are so wild that they seat through your shirt and prick your skin.

You scream and scrabble backwards, the light of his fire illuminating his face leering up above you in the dark like a ghoul from a children’s book.

You clap your hands over your mouth, ignoring your bubbling skin as fear overrides premonition, but the damage has already been done.

It’s eerily quiet for a minute. Then, he whispers,

“Found you”

Even in the pitch black room you can practically see him lunging towards you, and you scuttle backwards on your hands and feet in terror. His hands miss your bare feet by a few inches, and he snarls before making another swipe.

“Fucking bitch, this is the thanks I get for taking care of you, bathing you, feeding and fucking you?”

You yelp as he lights up the floor on both sides of your trembling body, and you see his figure once more as the blue fire shows the sick grin twisted up on his face.

“Leave me alone,” you sob, clambering up on your feet and running backwards as he advances on you. The smoke from his quirk is filling the room, and you erupt in hoarse coughs as it’s filtered through your aching lungs.

Everything about him is toxic.

“Nah. That’s not how this works sweetheart. You see, I take care of you, and in return, you do whatever the fuck I say when I say it.”

He raises his palms to you and you flinch, covering your head and colliding with the wall behind you. You’re too scared and tired to evade him again as you feel his body cover you and brush against yours as you shake in place, your arms still above your face.

He cooes at you. “There there, my stupid little bitch. You were scared daddy was gonna hurt you, right?”

His stitched palm caresses your bitten bottom lip and trails up to your tear-stained cheek.

After a moment of you saying nothing, he slaps the side of your face, hard, and you gasp in pain. Now it wasn’t just your stomach that felt on fire.

“I asked you a question, you brain dead whore. Are you scared daddy’s gonna burn you? ‘You scared he’s gonna beat you black you blue? ‘Scared he’s gonna cut a gaping hole in your burnt tummy and fuck the gash?” He leans in and lets his raspy words settle over your ears as he tenderly brushes your hair away from it. He softly kisses the shell of you ear, and when you sob quietly he wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you close, paying no heed to how you uncomfortably squirm when your raw torso burns from the contact.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try not to inhale too much, lest the smoke embedded all over his body gets too close for comfort in your system.

“Y-yes daddy. Please don’t hurt me, I was…a bad girl.” You cringe when the words are wobbled out, but you know it’s what he wants.

To humiliate you, to hurt you. Who was he kidding when he said he loved you?

Dabi, however, feels butterflies in his own stomach.

See, this is what you need. To answer to Daddy, to submit to him so that he can take care of you. That’s why you stayed so long in his room, right? It’s cause you knew it would make him happy if you listened to him. You let him make love to you, and treat you like his little girl because deep down, you know this is where you belong.

So why are you fighting him? You never raised a complaint for a week and a half, you only stayed quiet and kept your eyes shut when he asked if you were okay. That means you liked it, right? No real opposition, after all.

Except for now.

Dani is honestly disappointed in you right now, you were doing so well…so why’d you have to go and ruin it?

He might’ve softened from the way your body shakes and your sobs are muffled by his smoke-scorched jacket as you press against him for comfort, but the image of you turning around and running away when you saw him earlier hurts him too much.

It angers him.

Why the fuck were you so scared? Hasnt he shown you enough that he loved you? What, does he need to fucking spell it out for you?

Why were your eyes filled with such terror when he caught you? Did you turn away from him and run because you thought he was going to make you look like him, all burnt up and hideous?

Honestly, he would never, but if you’re so hellbent on making him the bad guy, then fine, he’ll play the bad guy.

Anything for his precious little girl.

And so he tightens his arms around you and chuckles cruelly when you whine at the lack of air.

“Well, you were right. I am pretty pissed, I mean I told you to come out and you didn’t listen right?”

“S-sorry,” you weakly choke out.

He laughs even more crazed now, crushing your ribs so tight he could actually hear your breath wheezing out of you, could feel your weak little punches against his back.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. No no, I want you to beg for your fucking life now.”

Your eyes widen as his arms begin to warm up and become unbearably hot.

“Dabi, no, no please!”

You writhe in pain as he cackles above you, savoring the choked breaths that emit from your wetted lips.

As soon as you begin to see spots, he releases you, and flings you against the corner of the room.

You go flying and bang your head against the concrete wall, his voice muted and swimming around in your ears as you fight for consciousness.

He saunters towards you in all his flaming glory, hands in his pockets as if he were walking out for some fresh air. He crouches in front of you and lifts your head with the pads of his fingers.

“Awww, my poor little girl. That had to have hurt, huh? You’re bleeding,” he cooes and blows a strand of hair away from your eyes.

He’s not lying, you can feel hot blood trickle down the side of your head as your vision sways.

“Stop this,” you pant. “I get it, I’m sorry- you were right and I was wrong, I shouldn’t have ran. I’ll listen to you from now on-“

“-But you said that last time, didn’t you?” He cocks his head and with the light of his turquoise fire against the shadows of the room, he looks like a being from hell itself.

“Remember? When you sucked me off like the dirty whore you are? Remember that you stupid cunt?” His grin becomes more reminiscent of a wolf baring its fangs, and you’re rendered silent in complete terror.

He takes your silence as an encouraging factor to continue his fun.

“You ever played Russian Roulette, Y/N?”

You have enough sense to quickly shake your head, a sinking feeling in your stomach forming at his implication.

“Me neither. But I kinda wanna try it right now. So, back against the wall. Stand up straight and spread your legs.”

You look at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious Dabi.”

He raises an eyebrow and a fire grows in the palm of his hand. “Wanna find out? Oh wait, you already are- now do what I said otherwise you’ll have one less leg.”

You don’t need more motivation to act on his orders.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly spread your legs and place your palms flat against the wall.

“Spread ‘em more. That shouldn’t be anything new to you.”

You wince at his dig but continue to widen the stance between your legs.

He smiles at your compliance.

“Good. This should be fairly easy, I mean the room is already dark enough to count as having a blindfold. Whatever you do, just don’t move.”

You wouldn’t know it, but he’s sincerely saying it for your sake. He’s glad for the safety of the dark, because he doesn’t want you to see the way he hastily wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as he prepares himself for his next move.

The room goes dark, his fire has been put out.

You inhale softly, blood pounding in your heart as your hands shake in anticipation.

Then all of a sudden, a fireball comes barreling right towards you, in between your parted legs.

You shriek and jerk, but luckily you’re saved from being singed.

“I told you not to move, babe.” He clicks his tongue and rubs his erection absentmindedly.

A second, then third bolt of fire comes at the side of your head, singing your hair and then dangerously close to your already burnt stomach.

At each one you sob and do your best not to move, not to take in Dabi’s utterly emotionless face as you wail for mercy.

The last one comes so powerful that as it strikes the wall next to you, flecks of ash sting your cheeks and lips.

Your knees are jelly, your mouth is aching from begging for your life as he wanted.

But you know he’s done when he lets out a loud yawn and groan as he stretches his arm and flexes his fingers.

“A-are we done?” You sniffle.

He says nothing at first. You just hear him ask a couple steps towards you, his boots echoing in the room. You assume he stops in front of you because you can feel his body in front of your kneeling figure.

His hand descends and feels around until he reaches the top of your head. Stroking softly, he twirls locks through his fingers and gently shushes you until your hiccups subside, and you lean your forehead against his thigh.

“‘You happy it’s done? You did so well for me, sweetheart.”

“Yes Dabi. Thank you,” you utter softly, knowing it’s what he wants to hear.

“Yeah? How thankful are you?”

You still at that.

He starts to unbuckle his belt.

You pull your head back, and he pulls his pants down.

“Dabi-“

“Shhh, don’t ruin this. Just keep your mouth shut and let your body do the talking. Show me how grateful you are that I spared your fucking life.”

The gentle way he handled you clashed with his harsh words, and you have a moment of whiplash.

He kneels down in front of you and lets his hands wander in the dark until he meets your torso.

You hiss at the sensitive flesh, but he doesn’t stop. He just moves his hand under your shirt and higher, pushing your bra up until your tits spill from the bottom of it.

He bites his lip as you whimper from his touch, his thumbs swirling around your nipples and prodding the squishy flesh.

Dabi gets more eager when you throw your head back at one particularly rough squeeze and shuffles even closer, his pants and underwear at his knees, member bouncing out in the open air.

“Take your panties off,” he rasps, furiously stroking his cock.

You surrender and slowly pull your sweats off, and then your panties as you hear him lightly panting in eagerness.

The second he hears them drop to the floor he lunges for your feet and yanks your forward, catching you in his lap as you yelp.

It’s pitch black, but he can feel you clear as day.

The tickle of your hair hanging in his face, your sweet smell clouding his rationale, the melodious sounds of fear and pleasure mixed with pain make his prick stand painfully at attention, weeping at the slit for your pussy.

He doesn’t even bother taking your shirt off in impatience, he simply barks at you to hold the hem up so he can feel your breasts bouncing against his face when he motorboats them.

You, however, shakily hold his hand at your waist when he pulls you forward until your bare hole presses against his length, coating it with light juices.

“Oh fuck, doll, your pussy’s practically begging me to fuck it. ‘You like having your life in danger? No wonder you keep fucking up,” he groans as he moved beneath you, letting his hips rock back and forth to gain friction from under you.

“Wait, go slowly-“

“No the fuck I won’t,” he interrupts. You have enough sense to bite back any retorts from the subtle growl in his words.

He lifts you up from underneath your ass, and you raise your hips in compliance as he grabs his dick, circling it around your swollen nub and then pressing it against your entrance.

You breath shakily and run your hands through his hair, not so much in a loving gesture but tightly in futile hopes to deter him in any possible way.

He takes it either way as you wanting him equally, and without further ado he slams your hips down on his whole length.

You howl in pain as he begins bouncing you, pressing down on your shoulders and forcing your poor cunt to envelope him fully at each stroke.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of your ass clapping on his dick, the mixed fluids from both of your bodies and the harmonies of his low grunts and your high pitched whines.

You can feel his dick twitch violently inside of you as he nears his climax. He flips you over on your back and starts pounding into you, laughing cruelly in your face as you cry out from the intensity of his strokes.

“D-Dabi! Pull out, I’m not on birth control!”

“Good.”

You open your eyes to stare at him in horror, barely making out the marred features of his face.

“I’m gonna fill you up with my babies. You’re gonna be plugged with my cum from now on, ‘s the only way you’ll stop running.”

“Get the fuck off me, this isn’t funny-!”

He grabs your rising fists and pins them back against the floor, crushing your wrists in the process.

“Who said I’m laughing?” And he isn’t laughing anymore, no, on the contrary he looks the most serious that he’s ever been, and that terrifies you the most.

The upper half of his body is suspended in midair above you as his pelvis smashes against your clit in a steady rhythm.

“‘Bet you’d like that, bet you’d like having all your holes stuffed with my kids. They’re gonna grow up and know how slutty their mommy was, they’re gonna watch and learn how Daddy earned his name. You think they’ll cry when they hear you scream for me?”

You want to rip out your ears from the filth pouring from his mouth, but unfortunately your hands are trapped under his grasp.

All you can do is chant “no, no, no,” under your breath as he’s pushed over the edge.

“Or maybe I’ll tie your legs against the barstools outside and let every man out there have his way with you. You missed them, right? I’m sure they missed you too, I’m sure they missed the way you’d fuck them the second they made you laugh,” bitterness seeps into his voice as ropes of cum shoot out.

He moans loudly in your ear and collapses against your body, sweat intermingling in the cervices of your entangled limbs.

It takes around three minutes for you both to catch your breaths, and for him to shakily raise himself on his elbows to peer down into your ruddy face.

“Clean yourself up. You’re going back to my room. And this time, if you try to run we’ll repeat this entire process again, but I’ll actually let everyone have their way with you. It’ll be like an orgy version of Russian Roulette, well all place bets on whose kid it is.”

You don’t miss the rest of the League, anymore

#tw:noncon #tw:misogyny #tw: bullying #Dabi smut #mha dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere Dabi #Dabi mha #dabi oneshot #dabi imagine #bnha dabi #bnha yandere #bnha smut

[eliemo]

Little Talks

Summary: As Logan starts spending more time with the Duke in an effort to keep him under control, Remus has to come to terms with the fact that the way he treated Logan may have caused lasting damage after all.

TWs: RSD, violent thoughts, strong language, blood mention (it's Remus, what did you expect)

Pairings: Developing friendship. Can be seen as platonic or romantic Intrulogical

Notes: Thank you to @cheshirevalentine for helping me create and edit this. They're amazing and I love them dearly. Their AO3 is here!

Having Logan in his room was… weird.

Remus had known it was going to be happening. Logan had made the offer to stop by Remus’s room and let the Duke bounce his ideas off of someone. He’d let Remus ramble, listen to the flood of intrusive thoughts and gory, outrageous ideas, all so that Thomas wouldn’t have to.

Remus had cheerfully referred to Logic as his “test subject” the first time he’d come in, laughing outright at the way Logan’s face had screwed up in indignation.

He didn’t really plan on actually doing anything to Logan, despite the incredibly dangerous position the light side had put himself into. He mostly just talked, reciting each and every thought that came to his head in detail, watching to see if he could get an entertaining reaction out of the ever-stoic Logan Sanders.

It didn’t really work. Logan was stupidly boring with his stuffy clothes and perfect schedule and condescending eyebrow raises. He didn’t say much the first few times he stopped by, their “talks” only lasting ten-to-fifteen minutes at most, but after a week he seemed to warm up to the idea of talking to Remus a little.

He’d ask questions- ask where Remus had gotten an idea, or ask him to expand on a particularly disturbing thought- and while Remus didn’t always have an answer, it was nice to not be completely shoved aside and ignored for once. Besides, Remus always thought of the best answers to those sorts of things on the spot. He liked the challenge of having to think on his feet.

It was still weird, though. But Logan kept showing up, day after day, and Remus could almost pretend he wasn’t the only one enjoying their talks.

He knew that Logan didn’t want to be here, of course. Their meetings were on his calendar, so it was obviously an obligation. He was doing it so Thomas could get some sleep, and Remus could be a little less of a burden. Of course.

Remus had only only expected it to last a few days, if he was honest. A week at most. He knew he was a lot to deal with, especially alone, and he knew it would only be a matter of time until Logan decided it was all too much and forgot all about their little “arrangement”.

But Logan came back the next week, and the week after that, and soon fifteen minutes turned into twenty, then thirty, and some days he even stayed almost a whole hour.

Remus found he actually felt a little less agitated after Logan left, his head just a tiny bit more quiet. Tormenting Thomas was the closest thing he’d ever had to talking things out, and it was a little discouraging when the reactions were either horrified screams, insults, or pretending he didn’t exist.

Logan actually listened. He listened and engaged.

Remus loved Janus. And Deceit did what he could, but he didn’t have the same tolerance as Logan did for some of the gross things Remus came up with.

Maybe Logic would be open to dissecting something with him sometime…?

-

He should have known it wouldn’t last. Nobody stuck around Remus very long. He always did something to fuck it up.

He really should have known the way he’d treated Logan when he’d first made his appearance would be a problem. Logic separated himself from the Imagination, the side grounded deeply in reality, but a lack of lasting damage didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

Remus had still hurt Logan to prove a point. And then had promptly moved on and forgotten about it until the next time it was brought up. Sometimes object permanence- or lack thereof- was a pain in the ass.

Remus had been ranting as usual, pacing around his room while Logan watched from the chair. He honestly couldn’t even remember what he was talking about, his mouth moving without much thought as it tended to do.

Whatever it was, he’d gotten worked up and excited, pacing the room, waving and flapping his arms as he talked, smile bright and mischievous and he whirled back to face Logan and-

And Logan flinched back, squeezing his eyes shut as his hands clutched the arm of his chair, shoulders hunched protectively.

It only lasted a second, Logan quickly pulling himself together and compulsively smoothing his tie once again. He seemed to do that when he was trying to pretend he was collected, Remus had noticed. His shoulders uncurled as he leaned forward again, but he wouldn’t quite look Remus in the eyes.

“Continue,” Logan said, when he realized Remus had stopped talking. “You were rambling about...something objectively disgusting.”

“I’m not stupid, you know.” Remus said, crossing his arms and ignoring the stupid, pointless hurt that blossomed in his chest when Logan couldn’t even recall what Remus had been saying. “I saw that.”

Logan blinked, staring at the Duke blankly. “Saw what?”

“You flinched.”

Logan scoffed, adjusting his glasses to avoid meeting Remus’s eyes. Again. “I did no such thing.”

“No, you did. I saw it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said, jumping right back into that emotionless facade he was so obsessed with. “Are you going to continue?”

Remus couldn’t even remember what he’d been talking about, his head flooded with images of Logan flinching away, eyes wide in terror, scrambling to get away.

Logan with a throwing star embedded in his forehead, with his mouth full of blood, crimson dripping down his forehead and chin, seeping into his pristine clothes and staining his tie. The thoughts seemed to dip into that spiral they always went down, swirling down the metaphorical drain pipe into his metaphorical pit-of-sewage excuse for a brain.

“No,” Remus said, shaking the thoughts away for the moment. Like stirring the cesspool a little so all the muck settled to the bottom. Metaphorically. “I’m good.”

Logan sighed, and Remus stepped away as the logical side stood up from his chair. “Then we’re done for the day.”

“Bye then.”

If there was one thing Remus was good at, it was pretending not to be bothered by the little things, by the way everyone perceived him. He was a terror and a burden, and he enjoyed it. It was funny! He didn’t care if he was liked, intrusive thoughts were never liked.

Remus flopped down on his bed, watching Logan’s back as he left. He was moving quickly, almost panicked, slipping out the door and closing it shut behind him.

Remus didn’t care if the stupid light sides liked him. He never had. But Logan… Logan was scared. Of him.

Scaring people was never the goal. Making Logan flinch like Remus was going to hurt him was never the goal.

Logan would deny it to his grave, of course. He was stupidly stubborn like that, somehow more stubborn than even Remus at times.

He’d insist that Logic had never felt a revolting feeling like fear in his life. He had no feelings on the matter, and Remus couldn’t frighten him because Logan had no feelings at all. Not enjoyment, not dislike, and not fear. Remus was another obligation on his schedule. Something to attend to. Nothing more.

And while Remus knew all of that was true… he also knew Logan was full of shit. He had feelings. His feelings might even be stronger than Patton’s or Roman’s. (Though it was doubtful. Weepy bitches they were- far too emotional for Remus’s tastes.)

And he was afraid of Remus. He’d made that perfectly clear today.

He… didn’t know how to fix that. His job wasn’t to fix problems. He made the problems. It’s better to start now than to never start at all, he supposed.

Well, obviously he had to start by finding a new coping mechanism. Logan was helpful, and possibly the healthiest outlet Remus had ever had, but he wouldn’t force someone who was terrified of him to come sit in his room and listen to him talk about guts and gore for an hour. He would have to find something to do in place of their talks.

A part of him doubted Logan would even come back again. Remus had caught him flinching, and with Remus’s reputation he wouldn’t be surprised if Logan assumed he would use the fear to his advantage.

And yeah, maybe under different circumstances he would have. Scaring people was fun but… not like this.

But that was fine, he could readjust to being alone. He’d done it before. He could lock himself in the Imagination, annoy Janus until he finally snapped and drove him away, maybe even pay Thomas another visit if he really got desperate.

He wasn’t disappointed. He’d gone his whole life without Logan’s company, he had no reason to miss it. It wasn’t fair to miss something he had barely begun to get used to. Logan was annoying and boring and stuck up, and Remus didn’t know why he enjoyed his company in the first place.

Not that he enjoyed it. He didn’t. He didn’t care.

He spent all night feeding himself those repeating lies, preparing to entertain himself all on his own tomorrow, so he was almost more annoyed than surprised when Logan walked right into his room the next day, same time as always.

Remus sat up in bed, watching in disbelief as Logan made his way to the chair and set his notebook on the table, settling in like nothing had changed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Logan looked up at him, hands folded neatly in his lap. “I said I would make an effort to see you everyday. I put it in my schedule. If I’m not going to be able to make it, I will inform you the day before.”

“Oh,” Remus said, not bothering to move from the bed. “Well, that’s boring and predictable.”

“I prefer to have a schedule rather than do things on a whim. And I’m here now.”

“Yes,” Remus said, shifting to stare blankly at the wall beside Logan’s head. He bet he could spit that far if he really tried. “You are.”

There was a beat of silence that didn’t often exist in Remus’s room. Usually he would start talking right away about whatever late night thoughts he’d been plagued with, chatting on excitedly until Logan cut in to add something dumb and nerdy.

Remus didn’t plan on breaking the silence this time, choosing to sit and quietly dwell on his thoughts on his own, smirking at the utterly baffled look on Logan’s face.

Logan cleared his throat, frowning slightly. “What’s on your mind?”

“Lot’s of things!”

“Are you going to talk about them?” Logan asked. “That is why I’m here.”

“Nah.” He hated this, hated the way Logan was pretending to care, like he didn’t want to get up right now and run as far away from Remus as possible. Just like everyone else. “Intrusive thoughts aren’t always words, Nerdy Wolverine.”

He saw Logan shift uncomfortably, eyes darting briefly to the door, and Remus realized that might not have been the best way to phrase things.

“Ah,” Logan said, sitting back like he wasn’t terrified. “You can always show me instead. That is what I’m here for.”

“I’m good,” Remus said, doing his best to sound uncaring. “It’s gross.”

“Yes, I’m aware it probably is.” Another beat of silence and Logan sighed, standing from his chair. “Remus. The point of me being here is to keep Thomas’s intrusive thoughts under control. We’ve discussed this.”

And Remus knew Logan didn’t actually enjoy Remus’s company, he’d known that from the beginning, but it still hurt to hear. It hurt something fierce, a deep, sharp slash in his chest that he would swear he could feel, that he was just something to “keep under control”.

He pushed the feeling down, flashing Logan a toothy grin that he knew looked ridiculously fake. “Okay.”

Logan sighed again, pushing up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Remus wondered if he could frustrate Logic into storming out. “I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You do,” Logan argued, like he had any idea. “Surely talking to someone is better than being alone with your thoughts,”

Remus scowled, shoving himself off the bed and stalking past Logan, moving towards one of the various piles of rubble and bones scattered around his room. He bet Logan hated how cluttered it was in here.

“At least my thoughts don’t pretend to care about me.”

Remus kicked idly at something that looked a bit like a spine, staring blankly at the floor as he let his words settle.

“What?” Logan sounded genuinely confused for the first time. “What does that mean?”

“Hm?” Remus glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “What did I say?”

Logan stepped forward, shoes clicking against the floor, echoing against the now silent room. “I do not understand why you’re suddenly being difficult.”

“Suddenly?”

“Yes, suddenly,” Logan said, and Remus turned away again with an eye roll. “We had an arrangement.”

“Did we?”

“Yes.” Logan touched his arm, and Remus yanked away so fast he thought he might have pulled something. “This is beneficial for everyone.”

“Right,” Remus scoffed. “For everyone.”

Logan actually had the audacity to look taken aback, brow drawing in further confusion. “Yes? You have an outlet, and Thomas gets a break.”

“I don’t need it. I can bash skulls in the Imagination.”

“Which is significantly more unhealthy.”

Remus shrugged, kicking another bone until it slammed into the wall. “It’s easy and fun.”

“We were doing fine,” Logan said, trying to move around him so Remus would meet his gaze. “I thought coming in to talk to you was helping.”

“You don’t care,” Remus snapped. “And you don’t want to listen.”

“I want to,” Logan said. “That is why I’m here.”

“Right.”

“I am incredibly busy, Remus,” Logan said, and Remus felt like he was being lectured. “I would not be here if I didn’t want to be.”

“Then get gone!” Remus spun around gesturing to the door. “Just fucking leave already!”

“I think I’d prefer to stay.”

“You said you’re busy,” Remus snarled. “If you’re so busy you don’t need to carve out time for me.”

“I chose to.”

“Thomas can live with intrusive thoughts,” Remus said. “He’ll be fine. Patton and Virgil will ease up eventually. You should be focused on them.”

“I have been.” Logan was still staring at him, and at this point Remus was considering storming out of his own room. “I have time for you.”

“I thought you were busy,” Remus argued, back to being difficult on purpose. “Which is it? Are you busy or do you have time?”

Logan sighed, and now Remus felt like a child throwing a tantrum. “I’ve made time. I’m making time for you.”

“Right.”

“I don’t understand what changed,” Logan said. “I thought you were getting some enjoyment out of our talks.”

“Yeah, I was,” Remus admitted because despite everything, that was the truth. “But you aren’t.”

It took a moment for Logan to respond, no less confused than before. “I am perfectly content.”

“Yeah?” Remus finally turned around to face him, looking the logical side right in the eyes. “Then why did you flinch?”

Logan blinked, shoulders tense, a mix of panic and understanding flickering in his eyes. “I...did not flinch.”

“Yes, you did. Don’t lie.”

It was Logan’s turn to scoff, like Remus was being ridiculous and dramatic. And he often was, but he was serious this time. “I don’t see how one involuntary movement has become such a big deal.”

Remus didn’t look away, even as Logan’s eyes began to wander. “You’re afraid of me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Logan said. “I do not feel fear.”

“Yes you do.” Remus stepped closer, taking in the way Logan’s jaw clenched. “You have feelings.”

“No I don’t.”

“You do.”

“You’re figuratively jumping to conclusions,” Logan said, quickly changing the subject. “I am perfectly content spending time with you.”

“I’m not jumping to anything,” Remus said. “You’re scared.”

Logan rolled his eyes, hands lifting to brush over his tie before crossing his arms across his chest. Compulsory comfort action.

“You think you saw me flinch once and now you believe that I’m afraid of you, when there is no logical reason to be. You cannot cause any lasting damage to me, so I—”

Remus lifted a hand without warning, fast and sudden like he was going to strike Logan, keeping it frozen in the air as he took in the reaction before him.

Logan flinched back as soon as Remus moved, his own hands moving to protect his face, eyes glued to Remus’s raised arm, widening in genuine fear and shock.

Remus sighed, slowly lowering his hand as he watched Logan struggle to compose himself. “You’re afraid of me.”

“No,” Logan still had the audacity to argue. “I am not.”

“You flinched.”

Logan fixed his tie again. Remus knew it was some kind of nervous tic. “You startled me.”

“I lifted my hand.”

“Yes,” Logan agreed. “Unexpectedly.”

Remus sighed and stepped back out of Logan’s space, too tired to keep arguing.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He winced at his own words, images flashing in his mind of Logan stumbling backwards with wide eyes, of Logan covered in blood, of Patton screaming. “Not again, anyway.”

“Well,” Logan said, carefully clearing his throat. “You can understand that I wasn’t exactly…sure. That does not mean I dislike you. Or that I’m frightened of you.”

Remus found himself looking at his shoes, trying and failing to get images of Logan hurt, Logan dying, out of his stupid cesspool sewage pipe head.

He wondered if this was what guilt felt like. If it was, maybe he should start being nicer to Patton. This sucked dick and balls.

“I won’t.”

“And I appreciate that,” Logan said. “But you could not cause any lasting damage to me anyway.”

“So? It still, like… hurt you. I’m not gonna do it again.”

“Well then, I have no reason to be afraid.” Logan straightened, smiling at Remus like that had just solved everything. “Which I wasn’t in the first place.”

Remus’s eyes narrowed. “You flinched.”

“Yes I did,” Logan admitted. “I apologize for that. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

Remus didn’t move, staring at Logan in disbelief, at a loss for words for the first time in his life. He hoped the exhaustion on his face resembled a glare at least a little bit.

“I don’t… understand,” Logan said, and Remus couldn't even stay mad at him. “Was an apology not what you wanted?”

“No, Logan. I don’t want anything.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, brow furrowed, and Remus could practically see the gears turning as he looked Remus over. “You’re still upset.”

“Why’re you still here?” Remus finally demanded, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “If you’re afraid of me why don’t you just leave?”

Logan blinked, seemingly unfazed. “Because I enjoy talking to you.”

Logic may as well have just punched him right in the chest, the air leaving his lungs in a rush as he took a step back, choking out a shocked laugh. “That can’t be it.”

Logan frowned. “Why not?”

“Nobody enjoys talking to me.”

“Well,” Logan said slowly, and it was like Remus could see some of his walls coming down. “If it helps, no one particularly enjoys talking to me, either.”

Remus wasn’t entirely convinced that was true, but he figured he wasn’t the right one to give Logan a talk on self esteem.

“I like talking to you,” he said instead. “I just think you’re kinda stuffy.”

“I enjoy talking to you as well,” Logan said, and it really did sound like he meant it. “I would just prefer if your more violent thoughts were not physically manifested.”

“Oh.” Remus swallowed, absolutely refusing to show Logic how much this meant to him. He wasn’t going to cry. “Yeah, I can...do that. Sure.”

“Then I’m glad we could come to an understanding,” Logan said, right back to the stiff, professional persona Remus was learning to see right through. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Remus nodded, and realized he was actually starting to believe him this time. “Yeah. Ok. That’s good.”

Logan stepped back out of Remus’s space and Remus quickly did the same, the two of them standing on opposite sides of the Duke’s now painfully silent bedroom.

“I can leave,” Logan said after a moment. “If you’d still like me to.”

Remus hesitated, fighting to keep acting like he didn’t care. “Do you want to leave?”

“Not particularly,” Logan said, and Remus hadn’t expected to feel so relieved. “But it’s your room. I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not.” Remus moved back to his bed, dropping himself unceremoniously onto his back. “Don’t leave if you don’t want to. I don’t care.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

Logan pulled up his usual chair, leaning back comfortably as he picked his notebook back up and began flipping idly through it. He looked content and relaxed when Remus risked a glance in his direction, and he smiled to himself.

“You can talk if you like,” Logan said, glancing up from the pages. “I’m listening.”

Remus did eventually start talking, dumping his latest ideas on Logan like he usually did, diving into last night’s fantasy of setting an office building on fire in the middle of the week.

Logan had added on, and Remus had listened intently as he’d recited statistics and calculations, the likelihood of survival, and the two of them eventually decided it would be a waste of time, the fire likely to be put out before even causing any real damage to the building.

That was a talent Logan had. He could get Remus to let go of a thought that typically wouldn’t have left him alone for weeks.

It wasn’t until Logan had stood up to leave for dinner, promising he’d be back at the same time tomorrow, that Remus realized Logan had stayed twice as long as he usually did.

Huh.

Weird.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #platonic intrulogical #intrulogical #hurt/comfort #ts remus #ts logan #blood mention tw #violence mention tw #fanfiction #writing

[redwinterroses]

hey so here's an idea for a "two best friends but one turned evil and asked the other to kill him before he went too far gone" trope (you know exactly what i'm referring to)

the first character, looking into his friends eyes, stabs him in the heart. then they both fall down and the first character is left on his knees, head down, holding onto the sword embedded into his friend's chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

he doesn't touch the sword again and instead ties a ribbon around it in memory of the one he lost

you're welcome :)

- anon fierri

Not that this has been on my brain all day or anything, but... well. Okay. It has been. And then @/3lsmp posted that stuff about a zombie AU and-- well. This happened.

Yay for my first shulker box fic! (1,728 words, with mirrored/connected first and last lines)

Zombie stories don't have happy endings so... neither does this. Be warned.

.

.

.

Jimmy’s waiting when Scott gets back home.

He stands in front of the door to the house they’ve been living out of, with none of his gear or weapons on him. He’s leaning against the old oak that grows next to the sidewalk, one foot perched on a root that ripples out of the ground and cracks through the old concrete. The sun is setting behind him, but the twilight shadows don’t quite hide the bloody stain that spreads from his right shoulder.

Scott’s feet come to a stop of their own accord, and he very specifically does not move his hand to the hilt of his sword. He shifts his satchel— filled with goodies he managed to find today; he discovered an entire village that hadn’t been raided yet— on his arm, its weight heavy after an afternoon of walking. He hates the wary tone in his words when he calls out:

“Jimmy?”

Jimmy, looking up to see him, gives a shrug. “Told ya this would happen,” he says, and there’s a quirk to his smile that could break other hearts.

((hard to break what’s already shattering.))

Scott swallows. “Show me.”

Jimmy pulls the collar of his shirt to the side, and Scott winces at the bloody mess that is his mangled shoulder.

“Skizz got me,” Jimmy says. “It was stupid— I should’a been faster, but… I mean, it was Skizz, ya know? He still kinda looked like himself, and I thought… I dunno what I thought. But by the time I realized he was already gone, he’d got my shoulder in his teeth and…”

((the earth is crumbling away beneath him. this is a nightmare. time to wake up now.))

((please wake up now.))

“Hey, don’t worry.” Jimmy covers the wound back up. “It doesn’t hurt or anything.”

“It doesn’t— No, Jimmy that’s not the way to make me feel better.” Scott takes another step forward, his arms aching to reach out and his gut telling him to get away get away get away— He can feel his throat closing, swallowing emotions he refuses to feel.

“Look— ” Jimmy takes a step forward and Scott backpedals, half-unsheathing the blade at his hip. He hates himself for it instantly, but the instinct—

The instinct is what keeps him alive.

Jimmy just puts his hands up placatingly. “Hey, hey— I’m not that far gone yet.”

“You’re fine.” Scott tries to sound scornful, and nearly succeeds. “We’ll get you patched up and you’ll be good as new in a few days. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

With a laugh, Jimmy shakes his head. “Nice daydream,” he says. “That would be cool.”

They stand there, in a silence that shouldn’t have been awkward, for a long moment. Then, at the same time:

“Scott, you know— ”

“So I picked up a— ”

Pause.

“You go first,” Jimmy says.

((Jimmy always puts others first.))

Scott grits his teeth and forces his voice to be light and cheerful. Nothing is wrong. They’re fine. “I found canned soup!” he says. “Five cans— one’s a little rusty, but I’m sure it’s fine.”

“That’s… um. That’s good.”

Scott steps around Jimmy—

((not too close. don't get too close— no. damn you, coward, get as close as you want, there’s nothing wrong— ))

— and moves toward the house. “So…” he says, “I’ll just… start up the fire? Get dinner going? I think we’ve still got some— ”

“Scott.”

Jimmy’s voice stops him, and Scott winces. He drops his head, unable to look Jimmy in the eye.

“Don’t make me do this,” he says. His voice struggles, and his free hand goes to his throat, as if he can pull the plea from his chest. “You… you can’t make me do this. You can’t.”

((i can’t, i can’t, i can’t— ))

“You gotta.”

((too close!!))

Scott’s head snaps up, and one hand flails behind him, catching against the siding of the house. Jimmy is right there—

((danger! danger!))

But other than the tell-tale red gleam in his eye and the bloody stain on the shoulder of his shirt, Jimmy looks the same. Same golden hair, same dimple as he quirks half a sad smile, same gentle hands spread wide. Unarmed, though that won’t matter soon. He stands close enough that Scott could reach out and touch him— punch him, maybe, for being such an idiot… or wrap him in an embrace that will never let go.

“Skizz got me an hour ago,” Jimmy says, and his voice is as low as a secret. “I’ve got… what. Maybe twenty minutes? Another hour if we’re insanely lucky?”

“You’re fine,” Scott says again. But this time it comes out as a plea and not a statement.

“I’m not.” Jimmy shakes his head. His eyes shift to the side. “I… to be honest, I’m already feeling it.”

“Feeling— feeling what?” Why was he asking. What a stupid question.

And yet… yet he had to know.

Jimmy drops his hands to his sides, and they clench and unclench. Scott watches, mesmerized, his heartbeat fluttering in time with Jimmy’s hands curling into white-knuckled fists and uncurling into trembling claws.

“I can’t— I can’t describe it. It’s like I’m on fire. Only I’m drowning at the same time. Or something. And I— ” he takes a deep breath, and meets Scott’s gaze. A low growl comes into his voice, and the hands squeeze tight into hard twists of bone. “I look at you, and all I can see is how easy you’d be to kill right now.”

Scott’s sword is drawn before his denial can catch up.

((instinct keeps you alive))

Jimmy looks down at the shining blade, and finally his façade of cheerful nonchalance wavers. There’s a crack in his voice as he says, “There we go. That’s… that’s the way it’s gotta be.”

((i can’t, i can’t, i can’t— ))

And then, as if he can hear Scott’s internal scream: “I don’t— I don’t want to become like one of them. I don’t want… you to see me like that.”

Like one of them. Scott’s memories skip over images of white-eyed creatures, people he used to know, monsters with mindless hunger driving them to rip, to shred, to devour—

Jimmy wakes up crying some nights. He tries to be quiet, Scott knows, but in the single room they’ve barricaded against the darkness, every sound is magnified— and Scott's always been a light sleeper. He knows Jimmy dreams of them, dreams of blood and gore and of being left alone— or worse, of being the one to do the shredding.

He knows because he’s dreamed it too.

“I won’t let that happen,” he says, his voice firm. But there’s a tremble in the sword between them.

“You didn’t let it happen. It just… it just did, dude. That’s life.” Jimmy takes a deep breath, and with a far too gentle hand, takes hold of the sword blade and guides it to rest over his heart. “Anyway, you promised.”

.

.

.

“Right so, if I get bit, you have to take me out before I can hurt anyone.”

“Ew. What a horribly morbid things to say.”

“I’m serious! I couldn’t deal with it if I turned into one of those things and came after you or any of the others— ”

“It’s not gonna happen, so don’t be stupid about it.”

“Come on— just say it. Promise me that if I start to turn, you’ll… ya know. Kill me.”

“Jimmy— ”

“Promise me, Scott.”

“…Fine. But only if you promise the same.”

((it won’t happen. it'll be fine. they’ll be fine.))

“Of course, dude. I promise.”

.

.

.

“You promised.”

Scott’s face is wet with hot tears that he can’t feel himself crying, and he wants to drop the sword— wants to fling it away from both of them and let fate do its worst. Who cares if he dies too?

((jimmy cares. If you let him destroy you, it’ll destroy him first.))

“Damn you,” Scott whispers.

Jimmy smiles.

The sword enters his body too easily.

It slides between the ribs, the only sound the soft catch in Jimmy’s throat as the blade bites into his heart.

For a frozen instant, they both stand there, outside the house they’d claimed— the home they’d defended. Jimmy looks down at the weapon in his chest, one hand reaching toward Scott—

And he falls

((he falls and falls and falls and Scott is falling too and the sword clatters to the ground and he’s clutching at Jimmy’s face and bundling the body to himself and pawing the hair away from his eyes and Jimmy’s hand is on his and— ))

There are no final words. No poignant goodbyes, no tearful proclamations or whispered last regrets.

There is only an ending.

There is only Scott, silent and dry-eyed, kneeling on the ground under the oak with Jimmy’s lifeless hand clasped to his chest.

.

.

.

He doesn’t move, even as night falls around him—

((them))

— and the cicadas start their mournful chorus. Doesn’t stir until something rattles down the street and he dimly realizes that Jimmy would murder him if after all this, Scott went and got himself shredded by a zombie anyway.

Jimmy’s body is heavier than he expected, and yet somehow lighter than it ought to be. As if it’s missing everything that made it Jimmy. He drags it—

((him))

— inside the house and wonders what exactly he’s supposed to do now. Dig a grave, he supposes, but— where? In the yard? It seems so… anticlimactic.

((death is anticlimactic. life is the climax. death is… an afterthought.))

He leaves the sword where it fell. He can’t… he can’t bear to touch it now. Scott doesn’t believe in curses—

((yes you do yes you do you’re cursed this place is cursed and that sword is cursed and the ground where it lays is cursed and— ))

— and yet he can’t bring himself to fetch it. Someone else can find it.

He’ll dig the grave tomorrow.

Tonight… tonight he sits. Keeps watch. Hopes beyond hope that Jimmy will stir— knowing that if he does, it won’t be for any good reason. Knowing that if he does, he won’t be able to kill him a second time.

Tomorrow he’ll leave. Find a new place— far away. Sometime, maybe sooner, maybe later… he’ll find the end of his road too.

He hopes Jimmy will be waiting there, when he finally gets back home.

#i played with the prompt a little bit near the end #but... yeah. that's a thing i wrote today. #redwinterwrites #redwinteranswers #3L zombie au #why are we so mean to scott and jimmy in these fics honestly #someone write some good skizz angst or etho or somebody #they get left out lol

[insanityclause]

SPOILER ALERT: This article contains details of the first five episodes of Disney+’s Loki, & maybe the finale. Maybe.

EXCLUSIVE: “I have learned, at this point, having said goodbye to the character more than twice, two and a half times maybe, to make no assumptions,” says Loki’s Tom Hiddleston as the hours tick away to the finale of the Disney+ series drops early on Wednesday morning. “We’ll see where the ride goes now,” the Marvel alum adds.

As always with almost any project from the Kevin Feige run studio, that ride could continue, at least in some form or another. Certainly, the June 9 ‘Glorious Purpose’ premiere of the Michael Waldron penned and Kate Herron directed Loki proved to be the Disney+ and the MCU’s biggest small screen success so far. Also with any Marvel project, past Emmy winner Hiddleston was elusive on what could be coming next, be it in the Loki finale, another season or another appearance in the movies as the MCU shifts into its next phrase.

One thing is clear, after a decade playing the God of Mischief, Hiddleston still has a lot of Loki on the brain, in the best way.Leading towards the finale, I chatted with a UK-based Hiddleston about returning to play Loki and the search for who or what controls the seemingly all knowing, all powerful Time Variance Authority. The Night Manager star also spoke about filming during the coronavirus pandemic, working with Owen Wilson, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Wunmi Mosaku, Richard E. Grant, and Sophia Di Martino, who portrays variant and soulmate Sylvie, and his upcoming AppleTV+ series The Essex Serpent with Claire Danes.

DEADLINE: There’s a great line in this season’s penultimate episode where your Loki and Sylvie are stunned at watch Richard E. Grant’s Classic Loki recreate Asgard to distract Alioth and you say “I think we’re stronger than we realize.” There seems to be a great resonance in the line that there’s a whole lot of Loki coming in the finale and probably more …

HIDDLESTON: I suppose it resonates with the theme that we all wanted to highlight about purpose and about meaning. Loki’s someone who’s probably been deluded by the idea that he’s burdened with glorious purpose, and that perhaps that purpose has been revealed to be fraudulent or meaningless, and maybe his self-image or the role that he has condemned himself to play is redundant.

His experiences through this story have shown him that there are actually more opportunities available to him, and you know, it speaks to this idea, like, can we change? Can we evolve, and in that evolution, is there room to grow? You know, so, I think the stronger than we realize I think is Loki finally understanding that, really, by caring for other people, that maybe there’s power in that, and I found that very touching, and the whole thing is an extraordinary dream.

DEADLINE: Speaking of an extraordinary dream, you have been playing Loki for a decade now, since the first Thor movie, We know you are going to do some voice work in the animated What If…? series, but how has it been having this series directly centering on him, in all his variants, so to speak?

HIDDLESTON: You know Dominic, I have enjoyed it so much, because I felt it was a gift and a privilege to be invited to come and sit at the table and think about what the show might be. Also, I suppose so many of the things that I’ve discovered about Loki as a character in the comics and a character in the Norse myths, in the canon, aspects that I’ve always thought were interesting, and understandably, there hasn’t been time or space in the movies to explore them.

DEADLINE: In terms of who he is?

HIDDLESTON: Those aspects of him have been externalized and embedded into this new story about identity itself and about integrating the disparate fragment of the many selves that he is or perhaps the many selves that we are. You know, we contain multitudes. Loki certainly contains multitudes. We have met many of those multitudes, including Alligator Loki (laughs).

DEADLINE: Sounds like you’re not done with those multitudes yet. From your POV, from conversations with Kevin (Feige) is there more that you see for the character as the MCU heads into its next stages?

HIDDLESTON: Well, I certainly don’t have Kevin’s brain or encyclopedic knowledge or capacity for invention. I’ve been on the ride for a while, and it’s been the most extraordinary journey, and to have lived through different iterations, different phases of the MCU, and I’m so grateful that I’m still here, and it’s been amazing to watch. I feel that the MCU is even more expansive, is even braver, more inclusive than it’s ever been.

DEADLINE: How so?

HIDDLESTON: I think the stories are getting really exciting. Not that they weren’t before, but I think they understand that the investment of the audience is very deep, and they don’t take it for granted for a second. So, yeah, I suppose the perspective I have on how Loki might affect the ongoing course of the MCU is this idea of the multiverse. People have already understood it when Miss Minutes is introducing Loki to the TVA. She talks about the multiverse and the war and that the sacred timeline, which is reality as we know it.

DEADLINE: It opens up the aperture certainly for new stories from all opportunities, doesn’t it?

HIDDLESTON: It raises questions of, well, maybe there are other parallel or alternate universes. Maybe there are other realities, and the possibilities there are endless. I feel that at the end of episode five, Loki and Sylvie are close to discovering the answers to the questions that they have of who is behind the TVA and that, somehow, this will provoke even more curiosity about…

DEADLINE: …Because in the Marvel Universe, answering one set of questions always leads to another set of questions, in many ways.

HIDDLESTON: Right. Yeah. Yeah, and I know that there are lots of, you know, interesting titles of movies that’ve been announced, which kind of hint at where it might be going.

DEADLINE: One of those that hasn’t been officially announced, but is rumored is a Season 2 for Loki, in gear under the temporary title of Architect on call sheets and the like …

HIDDLESTON: Well, yes, maybe, as I say, all the kind of multiple alternate realities are …it’s taken me 10 years to get a handle on this sort of mono timeline. The idea that this might be a multiverse is actually beyond my knowledge of physics.

DEADLINE: Well, I doubt that, but let me ask, and no spoilers for the finale or further, but if Kevin, Marvel, Disney asked you to do more Loki, are you game?

HIDDLESTON: (laughs) I have learned, at this point, having said goodbye to the character more than twice, two and a half times maybe, to make no assumptions. So, I’m also aware that I’m only playing him because of the audience, really. So, it’s not up to me. But I do love playing him, and every time, I seem to find new, interesting things about him. So, yeah, I’m a temporary passenger on Loki’s journey, but we’ll see. We’ll see where the ride goes now.

DEADLINE: On the ride, as the finale looms, there’s a ton of fan speculation out there and so much that people have hooked on to from the show. So, as the man at the center of it, what was your favorite part of Loki the series?

HIDDLESTON: That there was meaning in the making of it.That we crossed the finish line in the middle of a global pandemic and could create something, and more than ever, I felt really grateful for being able to do this job. I think in this there are some of those questions that we were all asking ourselves in the last 18 months in the show, you know, what do our lives mean?📷I love taking Loki in new directions. I love the contributions of my fellow actors, of Owen Wilson and Sophia Di Martino and Richard E. Grant and Gugu Mbatha-Raw, and Wunmi Masaku, they all brought so much to the table, and I’ll always remember that. You know, I’ll always remember just being in Atlanta with all of them and making our bonkers show. Yeah.

DEADLINE: Making your bonkers show in Atlanta as the world, as America was still in the heat of the pandemic. What was that like, because you were in production and then everything stopped and then you came back, right?

HIDDLESTON: I mean, people have used this word a lot, but it really was unprecedented. I think we did six weeks of filming before the hiatus, and then the production was suspended for four or five months, and we came back. At first, it was unfamiliar because we had to make adjustments, but the thing I remember most of all, quite honestly, is the diligence and resilience and spirit of our cast and crew.

DEADLINE: Really?

HIDDLESTON: Yes, and it remains extremely special for me, this project, for that reason.For me, it just demonstrated the character of these amazing people. It took a huge amount of planning and care and looking after each other. By that, I mean, being in the bubble. So, for many of us, the only other human beings we saw, really, were each other. So, we came to work, and we became a team, and the circumstances fostered this extraordinary team spirit, and so the memory of making it is really my incredible and deep respect and affection for my fellow filmmakers. People like Trish Stanard, our line producer. Richard Graves, our first AD. Kristina Peterson, our second AD. Autumn Durald, DP. Kevin Wright, our supervising producer, and so many others making sure everyone could stay safe and look after each other.It’s really…I find it…it’s very moving, and it’s remarkable, and I just want to salute them all because I couldn’t have done any of it without them.

DEADLINE: In that vein, you have just come off filming The Essex Serpent with Claire Danes for AppleTV+. Very different from Loki, and yet also a tale of what is real and who we are. Is that what attracted you to it on some level?

HIDDLESTON: I read it and immediately connected to it. Read the screenplay, the adaptation. It’s based on a novel by Sarah Perry, which was published in 2016 and is set at the end of the 19th century. It’s an extraordinary story about uncertainty and about our deepest fears and how sometimes our fears can distort our imaginings and how our minds can lie to us. About how we have to guard against that, and Perry sets it in this extraordinary time with a beautiful leading character of Cora Seaborne, played by Claire. Anna Symon adopted it.

There’s this community on the east coast of England who believe that an ancient beast has been awakened by an earthquake and that it’s dislodged all these fossils. But perhaps, it has also dislodged this ancient underwater monster, which has been used to explain certain unusual phenomena. This was in the era when Darwin had just been published a few decades before and people are starting to think, this Charles Darwin, he’s onto something. Still, fear spreads very quickly, and it’s a very fascinating time where science and faith are in conflict.

DEADLINE: When you describe it like that it sounds very Loki indeed.

HIDDLESTON: Maybe the themes are very Loki. Maybe that’s where they join up, but I’m playing a 19th century vicar who is trying to contain his community. You feel very destabilized by all these rumors. So, yeah, to go from Loki to a vicar was definitely new, a new territory.

DEADLINE: Literally and figuratively?

HIDDLESTON: Well, it’s my first significant time in Essex, where we filmed, which I feel embarrassed about. I’ve been to Essex before, but I’ve never been to the very, very eastern, most eastern coast of Essex. It’s the Blackwater Estuary, which then feeds into the River Thames, and it’s a very ancient part of England. It’s so marshy, it’s where in Great Expectations, that’s where Pip meets Magwitch for the first time. It’s all foggy and muddy and marshy and quite atmospheric and a perfect place to set a story about of uncertainty and fear and gothic romance. Clio Barnard directed it, and working with her has been amazing.

DEADLINE: You know, it occurs to me that of all the main Marvel characters, Loki has been such a constant, yet so ethereal in so many ways too. Is it jarring for you to jump back into the role with all the uncertainty it brings?

HIDDLESTON: You know, I’ve always seen it as sort of an extraordinary and surprising constant in my life for a decade. But, I don’t take it for granted because I don’t often…you know, it may end. It has actually ended, and those endings have been conclusive. I really thought a couple of years ago, after I made Avengers: Infinity War, you know, we all know what happens in that scene, and I thought, that’s it.I thought it’s over, and I was really proud to have been part of it. I was grateful for my time, but I thought that, my work would go off in a different direction. So, the idea that I got to come back and have another go was a complete delight, it truly was.

#Tom Hiddleston #Interview #Loki #The Essex Serpent

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #10-12

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 900+

Summary:  I remember during the first few nights after I came home from the Green the way you fussed over the foam-patched stab wound on my stomach, worrying yourself to near-tears about the wet rattling sound in my lungs with every heaving breath. You developed the endearing habit of sleeping with your head on my chest, counting my heartbeats in favor of counting sheep.

Warnings: angsty fluff, language, grief/dealing with loss of a sibling, mild reference of past injury, Part 11 could be read as suicidal ideation so please skip/be warned of that segment due to possible triggers, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: Maybe one day I’ll be capable of writing Ezra who isn’t a brooding, gloomy, hopeless romantic but nope, I’m going to keep torturing his poor soul just a bit longer 😁 Thank you so so much everyone who has given me support on this series. Seriously, you are all incredible and give me the courage to keep writing 💕

Previous Entries #7-9

Cross-posted on AO3

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

You found a potential job for us digging up lukkul crystals out of the Mare Anguis’ sandy basin, eyes gleaming so resplendently with excitement it burned me to look at you. Or maybe it was the sudden image of my brother’s face in my mind, hope written in every line, telling me This is my chance, Ezra. I’ll make you so proud of me, I promise that reduced what little air in my lungs to ash.

We all have the heavy burden of ghosts clinging to us, embedded in our bone marrow and concealed within the depths of our darkest memories. People we never talk about for reasons we don’t examine too closely out of fear of what those excuses might reveal about our own selves. But life is abundantly full of unavoidable tripwires—names and dates, faces and places, so many little things—triggering us into a moment of traumatic reflection without caring if we are ready to remember or not.

It’s not your fault, little love of mine, for my undesired trip down memory lane. For all that I am an open book to you, you have been too kind to flip through the pages of my brother’s chapter. You did not know of the Mare Anguis’ duality as both my brother’s murderer and his grave. You haven’t read his typed name amongst the dozens listed on a condolence pamphlet found stapled to a bulletin board at the Pug before the crossing of our paths. The document, stashed away within the pages of my brother’s favorite book, is crinkled and held together by tape from years spent grasped by my trembling hands. But the bold title centered at the top has yet to lose its haunting intensity. 

Gone But Never Forgotten. 

Fewer words have ever been so brutally honest. 

An explosion related to the mishandling of fazer solution is what I’ve been told resulted in the deaths of the entire crawling party. Funny how a handful of years later an identical incident would be essential in my escape from the Green. And by funny I mean it’s pretty fucking ironic.

Beyond the certainty of my brother’s deceased status, I don’t know any specifics. And I’m disinclined to educate myself on the matter either. There are some truths better off remaining unknown. At least this way I can believe his passing was quick. Painless. And I can hope he knew I’ve never once been anything less than proud of him with all the stardust and atoms I’m made of.

Components of our drop pod’s engine lay dismantled and scattered upon your favorite blanket, within easy reach as you attempt to discern the source of the clanking noise responsible for disrupting our slumber. Overhead the sky is a canvas of periwinkle while the sun remains soft and drowsy, reluctant to rise above the horizon line. 

However, Somni’s picturesque atmosphere and the smear of grease across your forehead aren’t enough to anchor my soul in the present moment. More and more I’ve been experiencing it drift away, existing somewhere outside of my tired body and beyond my mind’s boundaries of comprehension. A part of me longs to follow it into that numbing, vacant realm, if only to escape reality just a few precious seconds longer. A larger part of me is horrified to even briefly consider the cruel notion of leaving you behind to face the nightmares of life alone.

Staying is the obvious choice, but if I were to find a way to bring you with me…Well, let’s just say it’s mighty tempting to challenge the impossible.

Yesterday morning I came back to myself with your body wrapped around mine, our foreheads pressed together as if you were trying to connect your subconscious with mine through the bruising point of contact. Imagine if you’d succeeded, if together we drifted away beyond the stars, if some poor kip stumbled upon our abandoned bodies, if our names went down in history right beside Romeo and Juliet. A million hypothetical ifs without an ounce of significance combined, but one is a thorn I can’t so easily shake free of wondering: if we were buried together, locked in an eternal embrace.

It’s a morbid subject to dwindle on, I’ll admit, but in all sincerity if I were offered the chance of holding you in my arms until the galaxy’s inevitable swansong?

Selfishly and greedily, I’d beg for it.

I remember during the first few nights after I came home from the Green the way you fussed over the foam-patched stab wound on my stomach, worrying yourself to near-tears about the wet rattling sound in my lungs with every heaving breath. You developed the endearing habit of sleeping with your head on my chest, counting my heartbeats in favor of counting sheep. 

All that’s left of the wound is a residual scar, pinkish and raised, but still you have not yet reunited your head with your pillow. I tried moving you once in a spur of the moment experiment. You woke up just long enough to yawn and press closer again, lining up your body along every curve of my own with your eardrum centered over my heart. And off into dreamland you ventured once more, drooling unashamedly. 

I don’t think my heart continues beating for my own sake anymore. It’s become the composer of your own personal lullaby, a song on loop with only one lyric. 

I love you. 

I love you.

I love you...

Notes:

Mare Anguis = The Serpent Sea. A lunar mare/sea located on the near side of the moon. The mares on the moon were formed by volcanic eruptions, but early astronomers thought they were once seas, hence the naming. Within this fic, I like the idea of them being dried up oceans with desert-like basins that have now become prospecting sites.

Fazer solution is seen within Prospect whenever they are dealing with aurelac. Damon tells Cee if it comes in contact with meat it will cause an explosion and later on she uses this info to help blow up the merc camp.

Crawling party is a term used by Ezra in Prospect when he tells Damon he initially had a whole crawling party with him when he arrived on the Green. 

Somni is based on Palus Somni (Marsh of Sleep) -- an area on the moon with somewhat uneven terrain and a unique light brownish coloring. To me the name Marsh of Sleep seemed like a peaceful, dreamy place and I thought it’d be somewhere Ezra would be more in touch with his inner conscious than usual.

I personally struggle with dissociation where I tend to drift away from reality as a way to cope with stress/anxiety. I intended Ezra to adopt a similar coping method, but I realized there are multiple ways someone might read this and one possible view is suicide ideation. Hence the trigger warning.

I had in mind for Part 11 the embracing couple found in the ruins of Pompeii. Forever holding onto each other throughout time.

Kip is a term used often in Prospect. I took it to mean prospectors/harvesters who were rookies or didn’t really know what they were doing. 

The wound in Part 12 is a reference to when Inumon stabbed Ezra at the end of Prospect. Cee uses a patch gun on the wound which uses a medicinal foam to create a bandage on the wound. 

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma @supernaturalgirl20

Ezra Taglist: @quica-quica-quica @iamskyereads

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#Ezra #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra's journal entries #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Prospect #prospect fanfiction #my fic #my writing

[gotnofucks]

Parts of Whole

(No images are mine, but I did edit them. If anyone knows the owners, do let me know so I can credit them)

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes, Sam x Steve (platonic)

Summary: Steve would see his OTP’s ship sail, even from across the grave.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of death (nothing graphic and not very sad), language, angst + fluff

A/N: I saw the trailer for tfatws and I just had to write this. This is also my entry for the amazingly talented @sagechanoafterdark and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork challenge (pic prompts above). Thank you for hosting this and being wonderful. The beautiful dividers are made by @firefly-graphics . Huge thanks to @the-inquisitive-hobbit for beta reading and giving me her very valuable insight.

 It never felt right in his hands. It was his to wield, his to claim, and yet it never felt more foreign. The concentric red and white circles with the star embedded in the blue center glared back at him from the mirror. It had been months, but Sam had never taken this shield with him to any mission. He couldn’t.

It felt starkly cold in his hands, lifeless and materialistic. It was Steve’s symbol of strength and hope. It used to hang on his back, warmed by his body heat. Now, it seemed like the shield only existed to remind him of Steve’s absence. This shield was made for Steve. It belonged to him, it always would. How could he ever stand where he stood? How could Sam ever be the captain that Steve was, take this shield that held more power than a crown on a head?

He put it down again, covering it with a cloth before shutting the door on it, leaning heavily against it. He missed him, he missed him like a throbbing wound that refused to heal. If only he could see the sun shining on those golden locks again, have those baby blue eyes smile at him again. What wouldn’t he give for that.

He didn’t notice he wasn’t alone until a heavy hand was on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Sam didn’t open his eyes, just let the weight of it anchor him, let it bring him back from the chaos that was his mind. The cold metal hand felt like a relief against the overwhelming burden of grief that penetrated his being whenever he touched the circular shield.

“I miss him too.” Bucky said, and Sam opened his eyes. Bucky’s eyes were blue too, slightly grey where Steve’s were green. He could see himself reflected in them and he straightened, looking away, hiding his weakness.

This mantle of Steve Rogers that he was supposed to assume, this legacy he was supposed to take forward felt like cheating. His friend, his mentor, his brother was no more. How could people just expect him to move on? But they did. It didn’t matter he was emotionally compromised, it didn’t matter he wanted to drown, like Steve nearly had at the Potomac all those years ago. The world didn’t wait to create one disaster after another. They needed Captain America then, and they needed him now. Like Fury said, trouble always sticks around.

Sam cleared his throat, making sure he was collected before looking at Bucky again.

“Everything loaded in the Quinjet?” He asked and Bucky nodded. They’ll be leaving for another mission soon, and Sam was glad he’ll have the sounds of battle to drown the war in his heart.

“Sam.” Bucky said once Sam started leaving. “Take it.”

Sam looked at Bucky over his shoulder, his gaze equal parts pain and accusation. Of everyone, Bucky shouldn’t be the one telling him this.

“I’ll meet you in the jet.” He said firmly and quickly marched to his room, shutting the door behind him. He hated coming back to the compound, the lingering memories of their fallen warriors whispering in his ears every time he was here. He preferred his little house in the woods where it was only Bucky and nature with him.

He took out his tactical gear, laying it on the bed and getting out his wings when he heard it.

“You are punishing yourself Sam.” Came his voice.

It was this moment where Sam broke, sliding down the wall and letting a few tears escape. He was gone but he never left him.

“How could you have been so selfish Steve. Why?” He asked, looking up to glare at Steve. Even dead he looked so handsome, so put together with his hands on his hips. He didn’t look like the old man they had buried a month after the battle. No. He was their Steve, their young, beautiful Steve who left them behind.

Sam didn’t know why he saw him. He didn’t know if this was a ghost or a creation of his mind. To him, it was Steve. It was Steve and it was a beautiful suffering to see him again every time he reappeared.

“I am sorry.” Steve said and knelt before Sam, looking apologetic. Sam didn’t try touching him. Not when the first hundred times his hand just went through him.

“You are? What for?” Sam asked. “For leaving behind your shield and title, for leaving me behind, or for abandoning a best friend you promised to walk till the end of the line with? What are you really sorry for Captain?”

Steve didn’t answer, he never did. He let Sam take out his hurt and anger, and Sam cried. In the privacy of his walls, he cried. He was so tired of pretending to be strong, to be happy. He hid behind his jokes and smiles, fooled the world which was so ready to move on while Sam was buried somewhere with Steve in the cemetery, half dead, half alive.

“I am sorry Sam, for everything.” Steve insisted. “But you need to stop punishing yourself for mistakes you never made. You can’t live this way.”

Sam snorted a laugh for even in death Steve was a humanitarian bastard. He didn’t come back to haunt his enemies; oh no the centenarian came back to help his friends. Why didn’t people see that he could never be Steve? That Sam Wilson can never, won’t ever be the Captain that Steven Rogers was.

“I hate you so much Steve, I really do.” Sam whispered, wiping his nose and getting up. Steve watched him getting changed, no barriers of shame between them from that side of the grave.

“You always said that. I have never heard a ‘I love you’ more pronounced than I do in your hate.” Steve commented with a soft smile, it widened when Sam gave him a half-hearted glare. It was amazing how they could go from having a painful conversation to joking, but that was how it worked with Steve. He knew Sam, he knew everything that made him laugh and made him smile.

“What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have a tea party with Gandhi or some other do-gooder like you in the afterlife?” Sam grumbled, tightening the belt in his suit and attaching his wings to it. Steve chuckled, sitting on the chair and watching Sam with a relaxed smile.

“They are too uptight for me. Mother Teresa tried to adopt me the other day” Steve said, and Sam laughed. His wings were the colours of American Flag, a new change. He grabbed his weapons and fixed Steve with a look, hating and loving him for being so him.

“I’ll see you after the mission?” He asked tentatively. He would never admit it, but he feared one day Steve would disappear again. It was crazy, it was not normal to see dead people, but Sam would rather have a shadow of Steve than just a memory.

“I’ll be here as long as you need me Sam. Always.” Steve said, a sad smile on his face when he saw Sam leaving without the shield.

Sharon greeted him in the jet, talking to Bucky and the other agents over the blueprint spread before them. Sam nodded his hello, snatching the half empty pack of Cheetos from Bucky’s hand and munching on it.

“So now you want to steal the show and my food. You’re such a dick Wilson.” Bucky said, poking Sam in his shoulder and Sam poked his tongue out at him, a gap-toothed smile on his face. Their previous somber interaction would not be mentioned, filed again like so many inside the neglected corner of their minds.

“Bitch, I paid for grocery this month. This is technically mine.” Sam replied, making Bucky scowl. Sam knew there was a 70-30 chance he’ll find his bed crawling with centipedes when they got back home.

“Charming, boys.” Sharon remarked rolling her eye. “What are you guys doing for Christmas? Must be nice to have a holiday.”

Bucky shrugged, sharing a look with Sam. It was their first Christmas without Steve, a 6 feet 2-inch void always between them.

“Nothing special. Stay home, watch movies, eat a lot.” Bucky said. A lot remained unsaid, but they rarely needed words to communicate anymore. Sam bumped his shoulder in his, offering him some Cheetos to munch while he silently grieved.

“Well, I’ll leave my address here for you to deliver your presents to me.” Sharon joked and Sam laughed softly, mentally making a note to get her something.

“Alright then, and I’ll just casually remark that my phone and laptop are both in serious need for an upgrade. Just saying.” Sam said. “Hey Buck, what are you going to gift me?”

Bucky crumpled the empty chips packet before sending Sam an amused glare, flipping him off.

“A ball gag, so that I can hear something other than your stupid voice.” He snarked.

“Damn dude, at least ask me out for dinner before getting kinky.” Sam winked and Bucky swelled with indignation, pointing an accusing metal finger at Sam.

“I cook dinner 3 times a week you bastard, and I don’t even burn it!” He protested making Sam laugh louder than ever. He loved making Bucky mad, teasing him into an incensed rage that usually ended in a pillow fight or sometimes with Sam’s head in a headlock.

They straightened as they saw the incredulous looks on the new agents’ faces, baby agents as Bucky liked to call them. It was times like these, when both the battle-hardened veterans missed their lost teammates, the inside jokes that were shot around with as much precision as bullets and arrows on the battlefield.

They got to work again, discussing the mission and its details with the other agents. Sam would run point on scaling the territory and fly down to the enemy base with two agents while Bucky would guide him from up here and take out potential threats. They just needed to secure a technological innovation and it didn’t seem too like much work. As Sam poured over the briefing, his eyes subconsciously went over to Bucky who was fiddling with the equipment, making sure everything was in working condition.

If someone had told him a few years ago that Bucky would become his anchor, his solace in his darkest hours, Sam would have punched them in the face. But as it happened, they came to lean on each other, the only unchanged part of their older lives, the only person who made each feel that were still real, still alive. They were still annoyed by each other, but the arguments were more of a routine than an actual expression of resentment.

He didn’t realize he was staring until someone deliberately coughed behind him.

“He is so pretty, isn’t he?” Steve asked, though it was a rhetorical question. Bucky Barnes was a beauty, from his blue grey eyes to the new golden streaks running through his new arm. Sam tried not to notice the way Bucky’s armor clung to his muscles, his face looking almost boyish as he forgot the world and focused on his task.

“I thought you said I’ll see you after the mission.” Sam muttered, taking care that no one noticed him talking to air. He hurriedly looked away from Bucky when their eyes met, a heat rising in his cheeks that made Steve chuckle.

“I said I’ll be there when you need me. And it seems like you do.” Steve commented. He took the seat next to Sam, so near that Sam swore he could feel the heat emanating from his body.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Sam snapped, the smug look on Steve’s face making him wish he could touch him if only to be able to punch him. Stupid blonde best friends with perfect teeth and beautiful smiles and an ass that looked just as round after being dead.

“Oh, I think you do.” Steve said, shifting his gaze to Bucky. “I liked his hair longer but the shorter is going well with the new arm. Don’t you think?”

Despite himself Sam found himself nodding, admiring Bucky as he’d done a thousand times before. He liked his longer hair too, but without them falling in his face, he could see him better. And the arm. The new arm that gave Sam tingles in the most delicious ways, it had him flustered for three whole weeks after Bucky first showed up with it on him.

He didn’t know when it started, but Bucky had somehow become the most beautiful person to Sam. From the way he would make him the perfect mug of coffee to their little kitchen garden they started to keep themselves busy, he loved everything about him. Those moments where he would sense the turmoil inside Sam and silently slip his hands in Sam’s to assure him that he was there, these little moments endeared him even more.

Sam had lost count of how many times Bucky and he had woken up on the couch, sharing a blanket, both silently afraid to sleep alone. He had forgotten how many times he had spent kneeling at Bucky’s bedside, coaxing him out from a nightmare. Every moment spent in each other’s company, laughing, joking, mourning together, it brought them together in a way Sam had never imagined before.

“Tell him” Steve said, a wistful look on his face as he looked at his best friend. “He feels the same. I know.”

Sam shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Bucky with reluctance. He’d already lost so much, he wouldn’t lose Bucky too. Not because he has a minor, very minor teensy tiny crush on him.

“Man, shut the hell up.” He snapped.

“Who’re you talking to?” Bucky called out from across the jet and Sam’s head snapped up, mouth parting a little before he mumbled out a ‘no one’ and focused on the papers in his hand. Sometimes he felt guilty for keeping Steve a secret, for keeping Bucky away from his best friend. He knew Bucky cried into his pillow at nights, he knew because he’d held him then, tried his best to fill the cracks that appeared in the walls of Bucky’s heart as well as his own.

But then, Steve chose to come to him. Chose to talk to Sam. And he was afraid that telling anyone would disturb this magic, whatever this was. That he would once again have to bury Steve. So, he kept quiet. He buried this secret in the deep recesses of his mind, the initial worry of insanity long forgotten in favor of seeing his friend again.

“Do you even have a plan?” Bucky questioned, watching him prepare for the jump. Sam had a job for every agent accompanying him, but the idiot had not outlined anything for himself.

“I do.” Sam said, and when Bucky looked unconvinced, he lightly punched his shoulder. “You’re my plan, my backup. I scream, jump down and get my ass back up.”

Saying this, Sam jumped, the exasperated look on Bucky’s face imprinted behind his eyelids as his wings flared out and he floated.

Everything that could have gone wrong on this mission did, and Bucky was hysterical even before Sam’s call for backup came. He was going to kick Nick Fury’s ass, but before that he was going to bring his friend back in one-piece and chew him out for giving him a heart attack.

Sam’s wings took most of the weight of the fall, so he came back with a sprained ankle and bruises. Bucky was getting increasingly irritated when they came back home, their little secluded spot in the woods welcoming them with the smell of pine and wild grass.

“It’s not my fault Fury gave us shitty intel.” Sam groaned, “You can stop being salty now.”

Bucky remained quiet, the silent treatment going for almost the third day in row and Sam was at his wits end. It was stupid and ridiculous because Bucky almost always pulled the stupidest moves in the field, like stopping a bomb with his hand or listening to the villain’s evil monologue.

Steve was grinning as he leaned against the edge of the table, and with every suggestive wink he gave Sam, the new Captain America resisted the urge to throw a vase at him.

“He cares so much that he’s speechless.” Steve commented and Sam flipped him off. Dickhead has been giving running commentary of the thick tension in the air since they came back, and Sam was on the verge of calling for an exorcism.

“Why do you do that?” Bucky asked suddenly and Sam was so glad to hear him talk again it took him a while to understand the question.

“What?”

“This thing, looking somewhere and talking to yourself, or – I don’t know, you keep being weird.”

“You’re the one with the cyborg brain and arm and I’m weird” Sam tried deflecting. Bucky frowned, coming closer to sit near Sam, leaving abandoned Christmas decorations scattered around them. Clint had delivered it for them but neither had the heart to put them up.

“Sam.” Bucky deadpanned, and Sam sighed, resting his head back and avoiding eye contact. He looked at Steve who was still smiling, his beautiful face like a slap on the face and caress on the head at the same time.

It was more difficult than one would assume to explain. Why did Sam see Steve, and why did only Sam see Steve? Was it a hallucination, or his spirit? Would Steve go away if Sam confided in Bucky? Would Bucky be mad he didn’t tell him? There were so many questions, so many doubts, and yet as Sam looked into Bucky’s eyes, shining like sapphires, he couldn’t keep it to himself.

“Its…Its Steve.” He said, looking down and playing with the soft lint on his blanket. He didn’t hear Bucky say anything but moments later a metal hand gripped his, stopping its nervous movements.

“Steve?”

Sam gulped, the coolness of Bucky’s hand in his warming his heart, swelling it with hope and an emotion Sam was too afraid to acknowledge.

“Steve, he – he talks to me.” Sam confessed and tentatively looked at Bucky whose eyes were brimming with emotion. He expected him to call him crazy, or to get mad, but what he did not expect was Bucky to shift closer and take Sam’s other hand in his too.

“He talks to me as well.” Bucky said. Sam was breathless, both by the slight smell of cinnamon that came from Bucky and the way Bucky came even closer, close enough that he could count the flecks in his eyes.

“He does?” Sam asked and Bucky nodded.

“I don’t know how he does it with you, but whenever I need him, miss him, I feel him speak to me from here.” With this Bucky placed one of Sam’s hand on his chest, the beating heart under thumping strongly. Unconsciously, Sam’s hand caressed Bucky’s chest, mapped its muscles and the jagged scars that bulged under his left shoulder.

“I see him.” Sam admitted, unable to look away from Bucky. “I can see him”

Tears blurred his vision until they dropped on his cheeks, sliding down, and forging a river down, leaving a trail of hurt, betrayal, and loss in their wake. Bucky’s hand came up to wipe them away, staying on Sam’s cheek, playing with the soft hair on his chin.

“I see him too. In you.” Bucky said and they didn’t know who moved first, but their foreheads were touching and then their lips met in a chaste, hesitant kiss. Sam melted into his touch, molding himself to fall into Bucky’s larger frame, his arms circling his waist and pulling him closer. They kissed as if they had walked a hundred miles just to kiss each other, as if they had saved every last breath just to live this moment.

“I – I, Buck –” Sam began but Bucky shushed him, pulling him into another soul-searching kiss before pulling away.

“I know.” He murmured.

As Sam relaxed in Bucky’s warm embrace, lost himself in the blues of Bucky’s eyes, he noticed Steve from the corner of his eyes. There was sadness on his face, the pain of a goodbye in the creases around his eyes. But when he smiled, he smiled with genuine love and happiness. The two parts of his soul he’d left behind seemed to have found themselves, and with them Steve felt himself complete.

“Till the end of the line pals.” He whispered.

Sam never saw Steve again.

Their Christmas was not very festive in terms of decoration. There was still too much pain, too much suffering in their hearts. Steve and Nat’s pictures beamed at them from the walls, and Sam sent Pepper the confirmation that they’ll come over for New Years.

It was a beautiful thing about human nature, about how one rises from the ashes to become stronger. Sam and Bucky lost someone, but they found each other. In the shared grieve of their hearts, they discovered the love long buried in there, eagerly waiting to be spread and shared.

They stayed warm under the blanket, wearing oversized sweaters that they wouldn’t be caught dead wearing outside. The sweaters may or may not have been Steve's; the soldiers mutually decided to hold Steve close in this way. Sam’s heart was tripled in size, as his head rested in the crook of Bucky’s neck, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon melting together to make a little world of their own. Sam wondered if he would mind growing out his hair again.

“So, what did you get me?” Sam asked, knowing he wouldn’t mind if Bucky did get him that ball gag. Part of him almost hoping for it.

“How rude Wilson, here I’ve given you all of myself and you still thirst for more.” Bucky mocked and Sam tackled him into a hug, peppering kisses all over his face.

“Bitch, you’re lucky I lo-” Sam cut himself off, suddenly shy. The smirk on Bucky’s face melted into a smile, a hungry look in his eyes.

“Say it” Bucky ordered. And Sam did. The Captain obeyed his Sergeant without hesitation.

“I love you. I love you so freaking much! I got us the cheesiest gifts.” Sam said in excitement. He pulled away long enough to grab his gift from under the bed, giving it to Bucky to open. He watched with his bottom lip between his teeth as Bucky opened the box to pull out two chains, each dangling with a rectangular pendant.

Dog tags.

Their dog tags. Bucky raised his eyes to Sam’s, fisting his hand in Sam’s t-shirt to pull him closer into a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth and moans, hips grinding as passion merged with love and emotion.

“I love you!” Bucky growled and kissed Sam again. “And I got you chocolates that look like dicks. I didn’t know this would happen between us when I bought them, and I was going to give you a hint with them.”

Sam’s laughter echoed around their small house, the dopey smile on his face remaining intact as they ate candy and burnt sparklers into the night. In the colourful light that played on their faces, they held hands together, filling the void that was there with the warmth of each other.

“We can use the shield as a sleigh until you’re comfortable using it as a weapon.” Bucky mused and Sam smiled into his neck, thinking of a certain blond asshole who may have gone away, but will never be lost.

Permanent Taglist: @what-is-your-wish @shooting-star-love @stanmysoul @sweeterthanthis @scentedsongrebel @muralskins @rayofdawnworld @donutloverxo @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @angrythingstarlight @rockyrogers @slothspaghettiwrites @nerdygirl8203 

CE & Steve : @littlegasps @bluemusickid @harrysthiccthighss @abeyyaaar @slytherinandoutasgard @empath-bunny 

SebStan & Bucky : @sebastiansthot @its-izzys @harrysthiccthighss @empath-bunny

For this fic : @barnesandco​

#ssholidaychallenge #sambucky #sam x bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes #sam x steve #tfatws #fluff

[twh-news]

‘Loki’s Tom Hiddleston Teases Marvel Series Finale, What It All Means & Is There More Of The God Of Mischief To Come?

By Dominic Patten | Deadline

SPOILER ALERT: This article contains details of the first five episodes of Disney+’s Loki, & maybe the finale. Maybe.

EXCLUSIVE: “I have learned, at this point, having said goodbye to the character more than twice, two and a half times maybe, to make no assumptions,” says Loki’s Tom Hiddleston as the hours tick away to the finale of the Disney+ series drops early on Wednesday morning. “We’ll see where the ride goes now,” the Marvel alum adds. As always with almost any project from the Kevin Feige run studio, that ride could continue, at least in some form or another. Certainly, the June 9 ‘Glorious Purpose’ premiere of the Michael Waldron penned and Kate Herron directed Loki proved to be the Disney+ and the MCU’s biggest small screen success so far. Also with any Marvel project, past Emmy winner Hiddleston was elusive on what could be coming next, be it in the Loki finale, another season or another appearance in the movies as the MCU shifts into its next phrase.

One thing is clear, after a decade playing the God of Mischief, Hiddleston still has a lot of Loki on the brain, in the best way.

Leading towards the finale, I chatted with a UK-based Hiddleston about returning to play Loki and the search for who or what controls the seemingly all knowing, all powerful Time Variance Authority. The Night Manager star also spoke about filming during the coronavirus pandemic, working with Owen Wilson, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Wunmi Mosaku, Richard E. Grant, and Sophia Di Martino, who portrays variant and soulmate Sylvie, and his upcoming AppleTV+ series The Essex Serpent with Claire Danes.

DEADLINE: There’s a great line in this season’s penultimate episode where your Loki and Sylvie are stunned at watch Richard E. Grant’s Classic Loki recreate Asgard to distract Alioth and you say “I think we’re stronger than we realize.” There seems to be a great resonance in the line that there’s a whole lot of Loki coming in the finale and probably more …

HIDDLESTON: I suppose it resonates with the theme that we all wanted to highlight about purpose and about meaning. Loki’s someone who’s probably been deluded by the idea that he’s burdened with glorious purpose, and that perhaps that purpose has been revealed to be fraudulent or meaningless, and maybe his self-image or the role that he has condemned himself to play is redundant.

His experiences through this story have shown him that there are actually more opportunities available to him, and you know, it speaks to this idea, like, can we change? Can we evolve, and in that evolution, is there room to grow? You know, so, I think the stronger than we realize I think is Loki finally understanding that, really, by caring for other people, that maybe there’s power in that, and I found that very touching, and the whole thing is an extraordinary dream.

DEADLINE: Speaking of an extraordinary dream, you have been playing Loki for a decade now, since the first Thor movie, We know you are going to do some voice work in the animated What If…? series, but how has it been having this series directly centering on him, in all his variants, so to speak?

HIDDLESTON: You know Dominic, I have enjoyed it so much, because I felt it was a gift and a privilege to be invited to come and sit at the table and think about what the show might be. Also, I suppose so many of the things that I’ve discovered about Loki as a character in the comics and a character in the Norse myths, in the canon, aspects that I’ve always thought were interesting, and understandably, there hasn’t been time or space in the movies to explore them.

DEADLINE: In terms of who he is?

HIDDLESTON: Those aspects of him have been externalized and embedded into this new story about identity itself and about integrating the disparate fragment of the many selves that he is or perhaps the many selves that we are. You know, we contain multitudes. Loki certainly contains multitudes. We have met many of those multitudes, including Alligator Loki (laughs).

DEADLINE: Sounds like you’re not done with those multitudes yet. From your POV, from conversations with Kevin (Feige) is there more that you see for the character as the MCU heads into its next stages?

HIDDLESTON: Well, I certainly don’t have Kevin’s brain or encyclopedic knowledge or capacity for invention. I’ve been on the ride for a while, and it’s been the most extraordinary journey, and to have lived through different iterations, different phases of the MCU, and I’m so grateful that I’m still here, and it’s been amazing to watch. I feel that the MCU is even more expansive, is even braver, more inclusive than it’s ever been.

DEADLINE: How so?

HIDDLESTON: I think the stories are getting really exciting. Not that they weren’t before, but I think they understand that the investment of the audience is very deep, and they don’t take it for granted for a second. So, yeah, I suppose the perspective I have on how Loki might affect the ongoing course of the MCU is this idea of the multiverse. People have already understood it when Miss Minutes is introducing Loki to the TVA. She talks about the multiverse and the war and that the sacred timeline, which is reality as we know it.

DEADLINE: It opens up the aperture certainly for new stories from all opportunities, doesn’t it?

HIDDLESTON: It raises questions of, well, maybe there are other parallel or alternate universes. Maybe there are other realities, and the possibilities there are endless. I feel that at the end of episode five, Loki and Sylvie are close to discovering the answers to the questions that they have of who is behind the TVA and that, somehow, this will provoke even more curiosity about…

DEADLINE: …Because in the Marvel Universe, answering one set of questions always leads to another set of questions, in many ways.

HIDDLESTON: Right. Yeah. Yeah, and I know that there are lots of, you know, interesting titles of movies that’ve been announced, which kind of hint at where it might be going.

DEADLINE: One of those that hasn’t been officially announced, but is rumored is a Season 2 for Loki, in gear under the temporary title of Architect on call sheets and the like …

HIDDLESTON: Well, yes, maybe, as I say, all the kind of multiple alternate realities are …it’s taken me 10 years to get a handle on this sort of mono timeline. The idea that this might be a multiverse is actually beyond my knowledge of physics

DEADLINE: Well, I doubt that, but let me ask, and no spoilers for the finale or further, but if Kevin, Marvel, Disney asked you to do more Loki, are you game?

HIDDLESTON: (laughs) I have learned, at this point, having said goodbye to the character more than twice, two and a half times maybe, to make no assumptions. So, I’m also aware that I’m only playing him because of the audience, really. So, it’s not up to me. But I do love playing him, and every time, I seem to find new, interesting things about him. So, yeah, I’m a temporary passenger on Loki’s journey, but we’ll see. We’ll see where the ride goes now.

DEADLINE: On the ride, as the finale looms, there’s a ton of fan speculation out there and so much that people have hooked on to from the show. So, as the man at the center of it, what was your favorite part of Loki the series?

HIDDLESTON: That there was meaning in the making of it.

That we crossed the finish line in the middle of a global pandemic and could create something, and more than ever, I felt really grateful for being able to do this job. I think in this there are some of those questions that we were all asking ourselves in the last 18 months in the show, you know, what do our lives mean?

I love taking Loki in new directions. I love the contributions of my fellow actors, of Owen Wilson and Sophia Di Martino and Richard E. Grant and Gugu Mbatha-Raw, and Wunmi Masaku, they all brought so much to the table, and I’ll always remember that. You know, I’ll always remember just being in Atlanta with all of them and making our bonkers show. Yeah.

DEADLINE: Making your bonkers show in Atlanta as the world, as America was still in the heat of the pandemic. What was that like, because you were in production and then everything stopped and then you came back, right?

HIDDLESTON: I mean, people have used this word a lot, but it really was unprecedented. I think we did six weeks of filming before the hiatus, and then the production was suspended for four or five months, and we came back. At first, it was unfamiliar because we had to make adjustments, but the thing I remember most of all, quite honestly, is the diligence and resilience and spirit of our cast and crew.

DEADLINE: Really?

HIDDLESTON: Yes, and it remains extremely special for me, this project, for that reason.

For me, it just demonstrated the character of these amazing people. It took a huge amount of planning and care and looking after each other. By that, I mean, being in the bubble. So, for many of us, the only other human beings we saw, really, were each other. So, we came to work, and we became a team, and the circumstances fostered this extraordinary team spirit, and so the memory of making it is really my incredible and deep respect and affection for my fellow filmmakers. People like Trish Stanard, our line producer. Richard Graves, our first AD. Kristina Peterson, our second AD. Autumn Durald, DP. Kevin Wright, our supervising producer, and so many others making sure everyone could stay safe and look after each other.

It’s really…I find it…it’s very moving, and it’s remarkable, and I just want to salute them all because I couldn’t have done any of it without them.

DEADLINE: In that vein, you have just come off filming The Essex Serpent with Claire Danes for AppleTV+. Very different from Loki, and yet also a tale of what is real and who we are. Is that what attracted you to it on some level?

HIDDLESTON: I read it and immediately connected to it. Read the screenplay, the adaptation. It’s based on a novel by Sarah Perry, which was published in 2016 and is set at the end of the 19th century. It’s an extraordinary story about uncertainty and about our deepest fears and how sometimes our fears can distort our imaginings and how our minds can lie to us. About how we have to guard against that, and Perry sets it in this extraordinary time with a beautiful leading character of Cora Seaborne, played by Claire. Anna Symon adopted it.

There’s this community on the east coast of England who believe that an ancient beast has been awakened by an earthquake and that it’s dislodged all these fossils. But perhaps, it has also dislodged this ancient underwater monster, which has been used to explain certain unusual phenomena. This was in the era when Darwin had just been published a few decades before and people are starting to think, this Charles Darwin, he’s onto something. Still, fear spreads very quickly, and it’s a very fascinating time where science and faith are in conflict.

DEADLINE: When you describe it like that it sounds very Loki indeed.

HIDDLESTON: Maybe the themes are very Loki. Maybe that’s where they join up, but I’m playing a 19th century vicar who is trying to contain his community. You feel very destabilized by all these rumors. So, yeah, to go from Loki to a vicar was definitely new, a new territory.

DEADLINE: Literally and figuratively?

HIDDLESTON: Well, it’s my first significant time in Essex, where we filmed, which I feel embarrassed about. I’ve been to Essex before, but I’ve never been to the very, very eastern, most eastern coast of Essex. It’s the Blackwater Estuary, which then feeds into the River Thames, and it’s a very ancient part of England. It’s so marshy, it’s where in Great Expectations, that’s where Pip meets Magwitch for the first time. It’s all foggy and muddy and marshy and quite atmospheric and a perfect place to set a story about of uncertainty and fear and gothic romance. Clio Barnard directed it, and working with her has been amazing.

DEADLINE: You know, it occurs to me that of all the main Marvel characters, Loki has been such a constant, yet so ethereal in so many ways too. Is it jarring for you to jump back into the role with all the uncertainty it brings?

HIDDLESTON: You know, I’ve always seen it as sort of an extraordinary and surprising constant in my life for a decade. But, I don’t take it for granted because I don’t often…you know, it may end. It has actually ended, and those endings have been conclusive. I really thought a couple of years ago, after I made Avengers: Infinity War, you know, we all know what happens in that scene, and I thought, that’s it.

I thought it’s over, and I was really proud to have been part of it. I was grateful for my time, but I thought that, my work would go off in a different direction. So, the idea that I got to come back and have another go was a complete delight, it truly was.

#loki #loki series #tom hiddleston #interview #article #deadline #loki spoilers #spoilers #loki series spoilers

[bopinion]

Album of the month / 2021 / 08 August

I love listening to music - gladly, all the time, everywhere. That's why I would like to share which music (or which album, after all I'm still from the vinyl generation ;-) I enjoy, accompanies me, slides up my playlists again and again...

The Beatles & George Martin

LOVE

Rock-Remix / 2006 / Parlophone, Apple, EMI (Universal Music Group)

When you hear the term "remix," it's usually a DJ putting a danceable techno beat under a pop or rock song. And often enough, this leaves the original performer or composer turning in his grave to the same frantic beat. But there are also exceptions. And one of them this time is my album of the month.

34 years ago in Québec I visited a kind of circus performance that was new to me. There were no animals, but excellent artistry. The whole thing was embedded in an almost psychedelic production of sounds and music and light effects and projections. Although individual acts, the whole was dramaturgically staged like an opera or a musical in one piece. The name of the circus was "Cirque du Soleil". A concept that in the following years and decades went from French Canada around the world and celebrated legendary successes everywhere - including artists in residence in Las Vegas. The visionary founder Guy Laliberté also became known worldwide as an impresario and, incidentally, a billionaire.

There are bands I really regret never having seen live. For example, The Queen with Freddie Mercury, although at least I met the latter once in a club in Munich - well, we were in the same room for a few hours. But there is also the opposite, for example The Beatles. As much as I appreciate these musical titans, a concert seems rather witless to me: film footage shows four musicians on stage, initially even dressed alike, operating their instruments without notable movements or show effects and trying to permanently drown out screaming young ladies. But maybe I only comfort myself with this assessment, because I was and am simply too young to be able to experience John, Paul, George and Ringo in their active time on stage. Anyway.

Guy Laliberté and George Harrison were friends. And at some point - I imagine the two of them over a cup of yogi tea after meditative yoga, one handing the other the joint "You, I have an idea..." - the idea was born to bring together the two cultural phenomena Cirque du Soleil and The Beatles. As a composition for all senses, new and timeless, ecstatic and colorful. After all, it was Harrison who was always eager to experiment. He converted to Hinduism in the 60s, gained experience with psychedelics and transcendental meditation and introduced oriental instruments, first and foremost the sitar, into Western music and is thus considered one of the most important pioneers of world music. A development that goes hand in hand with my personal taste: the longer their hair got, the more I liked their music.

It was only after Harrison's death that Laliberté was able to close the deal with the rights holders of the music (Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, Yoko Ono and Olivia Harrison), which can thus probably be considered a kind of Harrison's legacy. For the show was not to simply put together a soundtrack of the old familiar hits, nor were the compositions to be reinterpreted by other musicians. No, the original multi-track recordings were to be used to create new adaptations of the original songs. And who would be better qualified for this than George Martin, who had already produced groundbreaking albums with the Beatles themselves. In the process, he advanced from mere producer to arranger and idea generator, who also revolutionized recording technology by using overdubbing, for example. It's hardly surprising that he is often referred to as the "fifth Beatle".

In general, Sir George Henry Martin, Commander of the Order of the British Empire, is a man of musical superlatives. He is recorded as the producer of 4,836 titles, but one assumes considerably more. And that includes not only The Beatles, but also a wide variety of works for Emerson, Lake and Palmer, Gerry & the Pacemakers, Manfred Mann, Little River Band, Ultravox and many more. His 30th number one hit was "Candle in the Wind" by Elton John. Martin founded the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts with McCartney, was one of a handful of producers inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and received the BRIT Award for "Best British Producer of the Past 25 Years" in 1977, among countless other honors.

So George Martin went into the studio with his son Giles Martin, who had produced INXS and Kate Bush, among others, following in his father's footsteps. And not just any studio - of course it had to be Abbey Road Studios (again). With the original recordings, the team not only created new variations of the original pieces, as they could have been created alternatively with the Beatles themselves. For example, they enriched the acoustic version of "While my Guitar gently weeps" with an orchestral accompaniment and combined the rhythm of "Tomorrow never knows" with the vocals of "Within You without You". Thus, a soundtrack project for a circus stage show ultimately became a new album by the Beatles. No wonder that Sir Paul himself described "Love" like this: "This album puts The Beatles back together again. It's kind of magical." And Ringo added "George and Giles did such a great job combining these tracks. It's really powerful for me and I even heard things I'd forgotten we'd recorded."

The documentary "All together now - A Documentary Film" by Adrian Wills (director) and Heidi Haines (screenplay), which won a Grammy in the category "Best long form Music Video", also fits the project's ambition. It tells the entire story of LOVE's creation, from the first meetings of the creative team around Martin and Laliberté to interviews with, among others, McCartney, Starr, Yoko Ono, John Lennon's widow, and Neil Aspinall, the Beatles' longtime road manager and event technician, to the first rehearsals of the stage show in Montréal.

LOVE is more than a medley of hits by the mushroom heads, but rather a kind of rock opera that is a first-class listening experience even without the accompanying show. Says George Martin: "The Beatles always looked for other ways of expressing themselves and this is another step forward for them." And father and son succeeded with remarkable creativity. The new version of "Because" is still directly harmless, since it uses the birdsong of "Across the Universe" as well as the final chord of "A Day in the Life" played backwards. "Glass Onion," on the other hand, became a grandiose collage with elements of the songs "Things We Said Today," "Hello, Goodbye" (background vocals), "I Am the Walrus" (background vocals), "Penny Lane" (flute), "A Day in the Life" (orchestra), "Magical Mystery Tour" (effects) and "Only a Northern Song" (effects). State-of-the-art technology in digitization, mixing and mastering also ensure the finest sound quality.

Speaking of sound quality: a show that relies so heavily on music must of course also rely on a perfect acoustic performance. Created by French designer Jean Rabasse, the LOVE theater at The Mirage / Las Vegas houses 2,013 seats set around a central stage. Each seat is fitted with three speakers, which sums up to a spectacular sound system with 6,351 speakers designed by Jonathan Deans. The stage includes 11 lifts, 4 traps, and 13 automated tracks and trolleys. The theater features 32 digital projectors creating very large high definition digital 100' wide panoramic images, even on four translucent screens that can be unfurled to divide the auditorium. That's what I call "being in the middle of the action".

Reportedly, the theater cost more than $100 million - which doesn't even include the development of the show. And unfortunately, it also means LOVE can never go on tour. So I won't be able to avoid traveling to Las Vegas one day for that reason alone. Which I trust will be on the event calendar for a few more years to recoup its costs. And so the circle closes: Decades later, I would once again enjoy Cirque du Soleil in North America - and thus also experience The Beatles live in a somewhat different way.

Here's a trailer for the Las Vegas Show LOVE from the Cirque du Soleil:

https://youtu.be/hIJZAfyRlD4

#music #album #album review #my music #the beatles #love #george harrison #paul mccartney #ringo starr #george martin #giles martin #abbey road studios #cirque du soleil #Guy Laliberté #las vegas #quebec #remix #the mirage #show #stage design #documentary #Youtube

[fishmongeringstudies]

twenty one: i keep waking up in rooms i don't recognize and then realizing that i am still dreaming. my therapist says this is a symptom of a dislocated knee. i have not gone running since march. everyone that i know is lying to me

when i was a kid my parents used to take us to the same restaurant for brunch every sunday. it was on the first floor of a shopping mall which had big panes of glass stitched together for a ceiling and consequently let in far more natural light than your average building, but the restaurant itself was dark. moody. the walls were black and so was all the upholstery. the coffee mugs the waitresses served you coffee in were so dark you couldn't tell how full they were unless you looked extra hard at them, which i rarely did. in most memories of this place i'm seven or eight and i only drink two things: lemon tea and milk. so i'm sitting there with my frosted plastic cup of lemon tea, methodically stirring in my syrup with a skinny metal spoon because they make their lemon tea from scratch here which means no sugar and lots of tea, and my parents are drinking from their big adult mugs, and my sister's picking apart the roasted tomato on my dad's plate, and life, well. life is simple. good.

i can't remember when we stopped going there but i know that by the time i was nine and traipsing around in the hallways of the chinese primary school my parents had transferred me to, it had closed down and been replaced with some other restaurant whose name and shape i can't recall. well before i turned sixteen that entire wing of the first floor was demolished and replaced with the monstrosity that is singapore's flagship muji store. the muji's still there today. it's got a retail area and a few showrooms showcasing lifestyle choices for the upper-middle class citizen and a cafe with a dining area marked out by eclectic hanging decor that looks like a hundred little wastepaper baskets made from twine tied together to form a spotty mural of sorts. i'm fond of the cafe. their desserts are on the expensive side but they're thoughtfully made and look pretty in pictures, prettier in person.

your childhood years are one of those things that gets shinier the further away you stand from it, like how a bad experience becomes bittersweet by necessity if you give it long enough or you'll be stuck carrying that baggage with you forever. looking back, for example, on spring, i am inclined to see the educational takeaways instead of the moments in which my brain shut off and was replaced with a vat of screaming kittens. in this way we propel ourselves forward with the wisdom of the past, scrounged together from moments of pain and deep embarrassment. in this way we find ways to stay alive.

this summer i have wound up in upperclassmen housing by some unfortunate trick of fate. my apartment suite has five bedrooms but only four of them are occupied; i live in the room at the end of the hallway. my flatmates live in the next three. it has been five days since i moved in and i am convinced all of them think that they are living with a cryptid constructed in the scp containment breach format and unsure how to let them know that they are correct without making it personal. last night i woke up after a brief period of dreaming to use the bathroom; while washing my hands in the sink one of my flatmates walked past in the hallway behind me. 'hey, it's you,' she said. 'i feel like i haven't seen you forever. i mean. i've seen you, but i haven't seen seen you, you feel me?' asleep on my feet and ready to crash facefirst into bed, i nodded. 'yes.' she stood there for a few seconds as if expecting me to say more, but i had a vending machine for a brain at the moment and couldn't find it in me to press any more buttons. i certainly could've tried. but i was tired.

when i got on campus in february i resolved to sign up for therapy sessions with the school's mental health services since i was paying an ungodly amount for 'health insurance' (not a thing in singapore, really; not necessary in most places except america, really) anyway and i might as well make use of some small part of the astronomical sum that had been deposited in the pockets of some old white people i would likely never meet in my life. i got as far as filling out the form embedded in the school website and opening the automated email i received a few days later asking me to list my free times each week. i forgot about the rest. we are therefore entering the summer of my twentieth year without a goddamn clue what the inside of my head looks like apart from the fact that it must be pretty cool in there. it has to be cool. if it isn't cool what's the point of holding onto any of it anyway? we live for the spice of life. like garlic powder. cumin. oyster sauce.

this morning i went to target to look for sugar. the dining hall here doesn't do any of its vegetables justice but their desserts are to die for, and i've found myself suffering from a mild withdrawal since i started scrambling eggs and boiling about five hundred grams of cauliflower a day for the sheer therapeutic effect of it and because i don't really know any better. the target near campus is located in a shopping mall and surrounded by miles of parking space on both ends. while walking back across that stretch of empty parking space, i came across a smear of orange on the pavement. it was an orange. or it had been. the rind had been ground into the gravely surface of the road by a repetitive smoothing action so that it looked less like a bit of roadkill and more like it had been there all along. i can't stop thinking about that orange. who the fuck drops an orange in the middle of a road? why didn't they pick it up?

i have been cursed with an idea. it came to me last night before i fell asleep and it has been sitting on my shoulder since then like the devil in the popular angel-and-devil writing device which all nine year olds are taught by their teachers in chinese class, whispering to me about how great things will be if i can teach myself the fundamentals of sound design in three days. unfortunately it is when one decides to start a war that they are forced to confront their contacts list and the vast, untraceable geography of its contents. i cannot tell you if anything will result from this. but i hope that it will.

back when i still talked to her i mentioned the idea of doing puzzles to soothe the mind once and she took to it with so much genuine enthusiasm (she was always enthusiastic. too enthusiastic. enthusiasm was the problem, and the lack of willingness to curtail it the thing that eventually nailed the coffin shut) that i went to target the next weekend and bought a set of four puzzles depicting various scenes from old disney films. over the last two weeks i have done each puzzle three times, save for the last one, in which mickey and minnie mouse waltz down a red carpet and the people on the sidelines cheer for them with champagne moustaches and glittering beads for eyes. i cannot decide if this is meaningful. i cannot see the point of summer. but i am trying.

i don't remember the name of that sunday brunch restaurant. i don't remember the names of a lot of places our parents brought us when we were children, but my sister has been on a nostalgia trip since april and sends me screenshots of old pc games we used to play together from time to time. ernie's adventures in space. timmy's sea adventures. barbie island princess. i open each image and feel something inside of me physically ache in response. it appears that despite my best efforts, i will never be seven years old again.

i'm not a huge fan of lemon tea anymore. i prefer water. how it cleanses the palate like a vacuum cleaner sucking up all the dust and grime in a musty room. it's hard to distinguish between the inside and the outside of a thing when both are the color of a blood-red sunset but we try our best, you know? we draw lines on the sidewalk with chalk and we say 'here is my side of the universe and here is yours'. we act diplomatic when inside we are drunk and slurring our words all over the bartender's white vest. and then, because there is nothing else to do on this planet, we keep on living.

06.10.21

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

A Sister Like You

Inspired by this post in which Elsa her 8yo self and Anna is her 18yo Frozen 1 age at the same time, AND @themountainsays ‘s tags about how it could make an interesting bastard!Anna au.

Special shout out to @like-redhead-probably and @daughterofhel for your encouragement! And pssst @jabs-wocks this one is much cuter and fluffier, I promise <3

Edit: Ao3 and FF.net

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

The king and queen had a terribly kept secret: their firstborn was a bastard.

It was a terribly kept secret because, well, everyone loved her.

Anna of Arendelle was too much like sunshine on a cloudy day for people to hate her. The cooks loved her because she wasn’t a picky eater like her father, and the maids loved her because she always helped mend the sheets she ripped during her playtime. The gardeners and stablemen loved Anna because she talked to the ducklings and horses and goats, and even the flowers weren’t ignored. The people loved her because she was a bright child who walked among the crowds in the market and bought pastries from the local baker with a smile full of missing baby teeth. Anna danced with the town’s children during the festivals and chased after ships until the end of the dock as they set sail.

And perhaps most importantly, her parents loved her - one of blood and one of adoptive heart. They promised to care for the little red-headed baby as their own, regardless of what people said. 

Truly, Anna was a light in the dark, even as a toddler, a fire in the midst of winter during her childhood years, and that warmth only soared to bonfire heat with the birth of the first true princess, her little sister, Elsa.

Anna’s love for Elsa was similarly earned in the way it was passed to her: instantly, freely, and without hesitation.

Elsa was born in the midst of a terrible winter storm that ended as soon as Anna was let into the birthing room. The king was right behind her, kissing his wife’s head sweetly as they peered down at their second daughter. The question was asked if Anna wanted to hold her little sister and Anna nodded furiously, already getting a leg up on the bed. They laid Elsa in her arms and Anna's eyes filled with wonder at the tiny bundle. She sat completely frozen, not wanting to move or change her position lest she disturb Elsa. The babe fussed and grabbed Anna’s small finger in an even smaller fist. Everyone in the room fawned over the action.

“She’ll be queen, right?” The king and queen exchanged a glance, hesitant. Anna had not seemed put out by the fact that she would never officially rule, but she was only ten, and they weren’t sure if that would always be the case.

The king cleared his throat. “Yes, darling. She will.”

Anna looked back down at her baby sister. Looked at her like she was her whole world. Elsa hiccupped a little and Anna smiled her blinding smile.

“I can’t wait,” she said, wiggling her trapped finger back and forth so Elsa turned towards the motion. “She’s gonna be great! And I’m gonna help her!”

The mood shifted instantly and everyone relaxed, rejoicing. Elsa’s forehead wrinkled at all the noise and she began to wail until Anna soothed her, shushing all the adults with a serious tone. They did, but not without some laughter.

And then Elsa sneezed.

Frost dusted Anna’s twin braids and bangs. She blinked. Everyone stared in complete shock. A small snowflake fell delicately from nowhere to land on the tip of Anna’s nose. In her arms, Elsa made little noises of satisfaction and nestled herself further into Anna’s hands before falling asleep.

“I take it back,” Anna whispered excitedly while the room found their tongues. “She’s going to be the best!”

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

In the middle of the night, Anna crept through the darkened hallways of Arendelle castle, easing the door of her parents’ room open. She lifted, with some effort, the door from the bottom with her toe so it wouldn’t squeak and give her away. She closed it just the same, sidling over to the crib along the far wall. Voices came from the opposite side of the room, in the connected bathroom.

They were arguing. Again.

She couldn’t remember them arguing when she was little, but Anna wasn’t sure that was because they hadn’t, or because they’d not had a reason to.

Because now they were always arguing about Elsa.

Anna dragged the stepstool up to the side of the crib. Elsa was deeply asleep, mumbling vague syllables as Anna rocked her bed gently with her knee. Half a year had passed and Elsa kept getting bigger everyday. Her hair was growing out, her cheeks were soft and pudgy (“Just like yours!” The staff would often remind Anna), and she had started to laugh and laugh and laugh at all of Anna’s antics. Anna was utterly enchanted by her, her little sister was genuine magic.

And of course, Elsa was literally magic, too.

Raised voices rebounded around the walls as the king and queen found new ground to battle over. Anna saw Elsa’s lower lip wobble and put her hand down into the crib so Elsa could hold it. With her other hand she touched the bandages around her head.

“It’s okay,” Anna murmured, “I know it was an accident.”

They’d been playing Peek-a-Boo.

Anna had surprised Elsa for the hundredth time with a joyful, “Here I am!”, only this time Elsa had placed her hand on Anna’s temple as she giggled and there was a flash of white. The next thing Anna knew she was on horseback, jostled back and forth in the king’s lap. They rode hard, to a clearing she didn’t recognize. Creatures rolled out of the mist and popped open, revealing themselves to be trolls. Anna would have been excited under normal circumstances, but the looks on the king and queen’s faces, and the fact that Elsa was crying her tiny lungs out, had her clamping down on any questions.

The adults talked, human and troll alike, but Anna was having a hard time paying attention. Elsa was so far away, upset, and she couldn’t reach her. Her body felt stiff and cold, especially her head. She couldn’t stop shivering. One of the trolls saw her reach out from the king’s arms and told everyone that Anna was awake.

The old troll informed her gravely that her life was in danger, that Elsa’s power would only continue to grow. He showed her images with his magic: a figure in blue turning water to ice, then being pounced upon by figures in red. They were beautiful, and frightening, making Anna’s heart pound sluggishly in her chest. The queen and king said the troll could do whatever he needed to save Anna’s life and protect Elsa from such a fate. The troll approached Anna, with more magic shining in his rocky palm, and said that everything would be fine, that it was just her head and not her heart. He chuckled humorously.

“Much better to lose a few memories than your life.”

Anna refused.

The adults sputtered.

“Will I remember Elsa?”

“Yes, of course but-”

“Will I remember her magic?”

“The magic is what did the damage, and to remove it I would remove-”

“Then no.”

And she wouldn’t hear it any other way, even as her body grew colder and the vision on her right fractured and split. A frozen headache pulsed at her temple, spreading rapidly across her skull. Still, Anna sought out the sound of Elsa’s voice, even though others were getting in the way. She couldn’t tell who was who. Some of them wanted the troll to do it anyway, that Anna was just a child, only ten, and didn’t know better. Some wanted Anna’s wishes to be respected, that perhaps there was another way. Even more worried about the future, the kingdom, what it might mean to have a queen with powers… or a bastard without memories of them.

What were the consequences of hiding Elsa’s powers from the public? What were the repercussions of making the same mistake over and over, if Anna was literally unable to remember the danger?

So many questions, so many voices.

All of them wanted her to live.

Anna took air into small lungs embedded with ice shards, speaking softly but clearly even as fatigue stole over her.

“Elsa’s powers are a part of her. Forgetting them means I’m forgetting part of Elsa. I don’t want that. How can I help her if I don’t know her?”

--

When Anna next awoke she was in her room back at the castle, wrapped solidly in blankets. Summer sunlight filtered through the curtains, bright and cheerful. She thought perhaps it had all been a dream, and she’d been allowed a rare day to sleep in.

In fact here was Gerda, thankfully with breakfast, walking through the door. Anna sat up to make space and shot her a cheerful, “Good morning!”

Gerda dropped everything she was carrying in one huge clatter and rushed to Anna’s side, burying her in a deep hug.

“Oh, my little Princess!” She always called Anna that, even though she wasn’t really. “We thought we were going to lose you!”

Anna went to protest but spied her reflection in the mirror over Gerda’s shoulder. Her hair was it’s usual post-slumber mess, but this time instead of it being held away from her face by sheer luck, it was by bandages.

Gerda set about getting her dressed and fed and ready for the day. She did Anna’s hair last of all, delicately peeling away the strips of cloth. It hurt a little, but not too bad. Anna wasn’t sure what she expected to see as the source of the pain, but that wasn’t it.

“Did I get some of the powdered sugar in my hair?” She asked.

Gerda looked sad, gazing at Anna through her reflection. “No my dear, that’s…” She paused, deliberating. Anna touched the white streak at her temple, following it back where it disappeared behind her ear.

“I don’t know all the details,” Gerda finally continued, “but I’m told you were very brave.”

Anna watched Gerda comb the white streak into her braid and remembered.

And to her everlasting relief… she remembered everything.

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

Anna and Elsa grew up, little by little, leap by leap. Space was cleared out in Anna’s room for Elsa’s bed and things, but by that time they were already inseparable. From the moment Elsa could walk she followed Anna everywhere. Laughter was common, and anyone in the castle who caught an earful of it drifting and caterwauling through the halls always gave a smile. Unless it was followed by the sound of something breaking, then it was usually a kickstart to a sprint.

As Anna edged into her teenage years things got… a little silly. Now at ages fifteen and five, the girls could get into all kinds of mischief. Nothing terrible of course, mostly playing knights in the hallways with the armor and freezing their tutor’s inkwell after a particularly difficult day of study. But then of course, there was the time Elsa made sleeping versions of them to fool people into thinking they were tucked away for the night, only to get caught sneaking into the fjord waters for a late night swim. Or the time Anna pretended Elsa was sick and was only taking requests through the door - requests that included chocolate cake, chocolate chip cookies, hot chocolate (in summer), chocolate mousse…

The future that the king and queen feared never came to pass; Elsa’s powers indeed grew as she did, but they were tempered with the practice that came along with frequent use, namely entertaining herself and her older sister. Anna never got tired of watching Elsa, “Do the magic,” and Elsa never got tired showing her.

Anna’s sunny disposition never wavered even when others thought it might, when, despite their closeness, familial bonds, and education, Anna’s status as an out of wedlock child started to become more frequently pronounced. If anything, Elsa took more offense to her sister being addressed as, “Lady Anna,” while she got “Princess Elsa”, than Anna ever did.

“But you are a princess!” Elsa protested one night. They were both in their respective beds, across from each other, flat on their backs as they watched the hues of the Northern Lights waver over their ceiling.

“I’m technically half adopted,” Anna clarified.

“What does that mean?”

“It means one of our parents isn’t my flesh and blood parent, even though I call them Mama and Papa just like you do.”

“That’s so weird,” and Anna could hear Elsa’s frown from her side of the room. “Which one?”

Anna shrugged. “I dunno. It’s not like I haven’t wondered, but it just, never seemed to matter enough to ask.”

“I could ask.”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t have to.”

“But I wanna know!”

Anna sighed. She watched the lights dance a moment before saying, “I don’t.”

“Oh…” Elsa went quiet. “Can I ask why?”

“Sure you can.”

A few seconds passed before Elsa huffed irritably and Anna grinned in the dark. “Why don't you want to know?”

“I want to be mysterious,” Anna teased.

“Anna!”

“What? If you get to be queen, then I want to be the spooky, strange older sibling!”

She expected a laugh but was met with silence.

“...Did you wanna be queen?”

Anna opened her mouth to reply how she always did, but stopped. This was her sister, not some dignitary in a hushed tone or some drink toting duchess at a dinner party. She deserved a real answer.

“No,” Anna said finally, “not really anyway. Even when I was little I didn’t dream of holding Papa’s scepter or wearing Mama’s crown. I felt like that was their thing, and you had your thing! And I was… am, happy just being me.”

“Is that because you really never thought about it, or because someone told you it would never be yours?”

Anna’s brows knit together and she sat up quickly. “Hey,” she smirked, “who said you could be a five-year-old philosopher?”

“Sorry!” Elsa sat up too, her arms hugging her bed sheet covered legs. “I just think you’d be really good at it!”

“Good at it?” Elsa nodded, the Lights roaming through her hair. “What makes you say that?”

“Well…,” Elsa began rolling her hands in a circular motion. A small ball of twinkling snow appeared between her hands, rotating gently. She did this whenever she was thinking. “You’re smart and patient and kind. You’re always explaining things to me, and telling me stories. You help me when I’m mad at my homework or miss a stitch while sewing. You’re always thinking of new games to play, you read me books and take me out into the town for a day of fun! And you always save some of your peas from dinner for the ducks in the pond. You claim it’s because you hate vegetables but really it’s because you know it’s their favorite snack.

“But as much as you teach,” Elsa continued, the snowball spinning and sparking, “you also listen. You know everybody in the whole castle’s birthday. A sailor told you that he always missed the baker’s lun epleterte when he was out at sea, and now the baker always has extra when he sees that ship come home. Kai mentioned once that his favorite flowers hadn’t bloomed yet in the garden so you staked out the hedge for weeks. The moment they bloomed you ran to go find him, a few flowers already in your hands. You’re very-,” Elsa paused, her hands stopping too. Her lips twitched in annoyance. “I don’t know the word. But you know people and you care about them, and I think that would make you a great queen.”

The little snowball shrunk and disappeared, returning the room to the flickering patterns of pinks, blues, and greens of the Lights. Anna propped her head and elbow up on her thigh. “Hmm, I suppose you’re right. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not really interested, and even if I were, I still couldn’t.”

Elsa waved her hand dismissively. “When I’m queen I’ll just make you queen too.”

Anna scoffed, though not without humor. “That’s not how it works.”

“Says who? I’ll be queen! Who’s gonna say no?” Elsa barreled on, not waiting for Anna’s response. “It’ll be perfect: I’ll be Queen, you’ll be Royal-Big-Sister-Queen, and then you and I can both do whatever we want! We’ll be perfect together!”

“‘Royal-Big-Sister-Queen’? That’s not a thing.”

“It will be,” Elsa replied confidently. Anna exhaled heavily, a smile on her lips. Elsa noticed her lack of enthusiasm. “Okay, I’ll work on a better title but…, I just don’t want people thinking that you’re not part of my family.”

Anna’s eyes softened. “C’mere you.”

Elsa kicked off her covers, grabbed the stuffed penguin Anna had made for her fourth birthday, and ran on bare feet to Anna’s bedside. She lifted her arms and Anna picked her up, nestling her close. “It will never matter what other people say about me, because I know that the family that chose me, and that I choose right back everyday, loves me very much, and just wants me to be happy.”

Anna ran her pinkie softly down the bridge of Elsa’s nose. Her little sister blinked drowsily when Anna did it again. “What do you think about that?” She asked quietly.

“I think… you’re my best friend-older sister,” Elsa said softly as sleep dragged at her, “who tries to put her cold feet on my back when we sleep together, always forgetting that I can’t feel the cold.”

Anna chuckled low in her chest. “And I think you are my sweet-but-silly little sister,” she replied, tweaking Elsa’s nose which made her giggle, “who is always stealing the blankets despite claiming she’s never cold, leaving me to freeze to death.”

Elsa cuddled closer to Anna, yawning fiercely. “I promise I’ll share them tonight. Pre-Queen’s honor.”

Anna put a hand to her chest. “That’s a big promise, your Almost-Majesty. How do you know you’ll keep it?”

Elsa already had her eyes closed and her head on Anna’s pillow. “Because I love you.”

Anna smiled warmly. She scooched lower and drew the covers up over her shoulder, planting a kiss on Elsa’s forehead as she got settled.

“I love you too. And I still will, even when I wake up tomorrow and all the covers are on your side of the bed.”

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

Elsa never did come up with a better title for Anna’s rise to royalty. Not that she didn’t have time; to most people three years is quite the span, but for children and young adults it may well have been the blink of an eye. And it certainly felt like no time at all when Kai knocked on their door, parchment in hand and tears in his eyes, to deliver the news that their parents had died at sea.

Anna was eighteen, and Elsa, heir to the throne, only eight.

The funeral was delayed until proper mourning attire could be fashioned for such young women. The headstones were grand but simple. After the rain and the prayers, Anna and Elsa walked back to their room, silent. Anna worked on autopilot: helping Elsa disrobe, comb out her hair, put her in sleepwear. Until she felt the ghost of a memory, not long past, of her hugging the queen and king around the waist, expressing her wish to see them soon. The last time she’d ever touched them.

She heard Elsa sniffle beneath her hand, and caught sight of their reflection in the mirror. Tears dripped out of red-rimmed eyes as Elsa’s hard fought composure (already so heavy for a child) fell apart at Anna’s momentary lapse in normality. Then they were holding each other close, fingers digging into clothing and faces pressed close together.

They slept in the same bed for months.

But during that time an uncomfortable question arose. One that, out of respect for tradition, should have waited, but realistically speaking, couldn’t.

Who was in charge now?

Obviously no one expected an eight-year-old to be officially running a country, especially since her Coronation Day was over a decade away. And while Elsa had already Ascended to ruling status, legally she wasn’t making the rules, and it couldn’t be advisors forever. Especially not after the period of mourning, which at max placed Elsa at twelve. She would be involved in ongoing diplomatic and national matters of course, as she would have been anyway, though now to a larger degree, but the fact of the matter was that Elsa was a child.

She still had a bedtime.

And it couldn’t be Anna… could it? She had the training, the disposition. Even if she’d never desired it personally, could she be persuaded to step up, even if it was, in the end, invisibly? The advisors knew that generally speaking, the people of Arendelle would not turn their backs on Anna being their ruler in Elsa’s place, but politically, they felt the pressure of putting the correct outward face on their country.

Anna walked past two advisors, picking holes in the same arguments she’d heard for weeks, and closed her ears to it all. If they --the crown, the staff, the castle-- needed her help, she’d do it in a heartbeat, but right now, she was more concerned with the remaining family she had left.

Namely, finding her before her upcoming royal duties.

They were starting slow. A few of the old guardsmen had retired, and today was their replacement’s first day on the job. Elsa, as queen, was supposed to formally greet them and thank them for their service. Fairly straightforward, all things considered, but Anna had seemingly lost track of Elsa after breakfast and between a few meetings of her own, and now was looking for her little sister.

Well, she was pretending to look. Anna knew exactly where to find her sister, but she gathered that, with all the fuss over dress and ceremony, Elsa may want just a few extra seconds to be alone, not being touched by people’s hands or her hair pulled by combs or set in tight braids and buns along her head.

But they couldn’t delay forever. Anna tapped a special rhythm on the door to their room, hearing a muted, “Come in!” from the other side.

As she entered, Anna’s breath caught in her throat.

Elsa was dressed like, well…

She looked just like Mama.

“Gerda says if I keep my steps high, I won’t trip on my cape,” Elsa said, spinning to show off the purple floor length cape. “But I can’t walk normally if I do that, I look like a puffed up frog!”

A little tiara nestled in her snow-blonde hair bounced light around the room as Elsa shifted. A fleck caught in Anna’s eye and she blinked harshly, bringing her back to the moment.

“Good thing you only have to walk a few feet,” Anna agreed, closing the door behind her and striding up to her sister. “You’ll be the best dressed frog in the room.”

Elsa folded her arms and scowled, looking very queenly indeed. “I’m surprised you’re the one saying that, considering what you’re wearing today,” and she gestured up and down at her sister.

It was true, Anna was wearing a dress that was almost entirely green from top to bottom, excluding the bodice which was black. The pleats of her skirt were alternating shades of green, the only spots of color otherwise being the rosemaling against the black silk on her chest and abdomen. Anna looked down then back up, and grinned. “I guess you’re right. You’ll have to teach me how to walk then. Does it look something like this?”

She marched dramatically in place, all high knees and right angled elbows, a look of comic determination on her face. To her delight, and relief, Elsa burst into giggles. She held her two gloved hands up in front of her mouth.

That was the Elsa she knew.

“You’re going to embarrass me, Anna,” Elsa laughed.

“Lucky for me, that’s the older sibling’s job.” Anna put her hands on her hips. “Ready to go?”

Elsa’s smile dropped, looking down at her outfit. “I look like I am.”

Anna crouched down to be level with Elsa. “You certainly do,” she said softly. “You look beautiful. But I asked if you were ready.” Elsa didn’t meet her eye, instead fidgeting with her hands and wringing the soft blue leather of her gloves.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be,” Elsa confessed, downcast.

Anna acknowledged that with a little hum. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for a long time. But I think that’s okay too, it just means you’re still willing to learn. And you know, you’re not alone. You’ve got Kai and Gerda and all the staff, you’ve got the tutors and experts and all the other adults that know what to do. And, you know,” Anna shrugged, “you’ve got me, too. So I’m pretty sure it won’t be a complete disaster.”

Elsa looked up. “Really?”

“Positive,” Anna winked. She pinched her pointer finger and thumb close together. “Just a little one.”

Elsa laughed again and shoved Anna’s hand away. “Okay, okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“After you,” Anna said grandly, opening the door wide for Elsa with a sweeping bow. Elsa shook her head, then squared her shoulders and tilted her chin back, adopting the posture she’d learned over many lessons of how to walk like a queen. Anna sheltered the little spark of pride inside her heart, and the flicker of sadness that came along with it.

They started to make their way down the long hall, Anna a step behind to Elsa’s right, as was expected. As they neared the halfway point, Elsa’s pace slowed, and Anna noticed immediately.

She tapped Elsa on the shoulder and gently took her hand.

Elsa glanced ahead and behind furtively. “I… shouldn’t.”

“I know but, you don’t have to be ‘Queen-queen’ until we turn that corner, so…” Anna ran her thumb across the back of Elsa’s gloved hand, “You can keep holding my hand until then.”

Elsa squeezed back. “And after that? Where will you be?”

Anna beamed.

“Right next to you. And after that? Wherever you need me to be.”

#I've always had some THOUGHTS^TM about Anna being awake during the scene where her memories are changed in F1 #I am nearly 100% certain that if Anna thought losing her memories of Elsa's magic #was the safest option for ELSA then she would agree #but that's a HUGE thing to convince someone #I really believe that if Anna had a choice she'd want to remember - even if maybe the damage took longer to heal #so that's why that part is in there lol #but otherwise this was just me being like 'omg Anna's older and she's gonna be the BEST older sister ever' #cuz she's already sunshine and now she gets to be sunshine for every second of Elsa's life #childhood separation? I don't know her #the sisters allowed to be together to process their greatest joys and deepest griefs? now THAT I can get behind #themountainsays #like-redhead-probably #daughterofhel #bastard!Anna au #A Sister Like You #yes the title is an intentional nod to 'A Sister More Like Me' #because that book is super cute and charming <3 and that was the goal of a few scenes in this one #fairly confident I succeeded: /I/ was certainly smiling and laughing writing it #Little Elsa #Anna #King Agnarr #Queen Iduna #Kai #Gerda #Trolls #F1 canon divergent #my writing #fan fic #story

[vannahfanfics]

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter. New? Start from the beginning!

Skyward

Ao3

Chapter 8: Uravium

“Katsuki! I can see the bottom now!” 

The bottom of the long, dark mine shaft slowly yawned up to meet them, blue-black earth shining with the pink light still swirling around their bodies and emanating from Ochako’s pendant. The humming sound began to dim, and Ochako gasped as gravity regained its control of her body. She began to straighten out in the air, her feet coming down towards the floor. The two of them landed with no more than mere scuffs on the rocky bottom, and Ochako exclaimed in fright when the light from her crystal began to retract into the gem and fade. 

“Don’t worry, Cheeks.” Katsuki smiled while he crouched down, flipping open the flap of his bag to look around in it. He procured a small lantern and a set of matches, swiftly plucking one out to strike it on the coarse side of the box. “Just a little more,” he grunted as the faint light petered out, but just as it did, there was a spark and then a little orange flame bloomed in the blackness. It threw orange light over the lines of his face as he leaned down to light the lamp; the oil greedily caught the fire, igniting the wick and sending a puddle of soft light splaying out around them. “There,” Katsuki smirked in satisfaction, then picked up the lantern and stood up. 

“We’re a long way down,” Ochako observed when she cast her gaze upward. The sky was but a circle of blue far above their heads, partially blocked by the half-decayed scaffolding jutting out into the mine shaft. 

“Yep,” Katsuki said, “we sure won’t be getting out that way—but it also means it’ll be hard as hell for those pirates or that Tomura bastard to follow us.” 

Ochako released a relieved sigh, but still shuddered at the image of Tomura’s cold, piercing eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself, quaking from the entire experience, and Katsuki looked at her. 

“Oh, Cheeks, are you cold?” Before she could refuse, he had plopped down the lantern and was shrugging out of his vest. “It doesn't have sleeves, but—” he said while he stepped behind her so he could drape it over her shoulders, “it should keep you a little warmer.” Ochako was warmer indeed, especially her face, which was shining nearly as pink as her necklace had been. She was thankful for the orange hue of the lantern light, as it hid her blush. She slipped her arms through the sleeves of Katsuki’s vest with a shy mumble of gratitude, while he just nodded and picked up the lantern to shine it around. 

“Well, we can’t stay in these mine shafts forever,” he grunted. “We have to find a way out, and hopefully that’ll put enough distance between us and them that we can finally get you somewhere safe, Cheeks.” He started walking, and Ochako followed; for a while, the only sound in the empty mines were their footsteps. She could tell something was eating at him, though. His jaw was set and his eyes burned in contemplation, but she couldn’t tell whatever in the world he was thinking. Just as he was about to ask, he looked at her and said, “Cheeks, I want you to tell me everything about that necklace of yours.” 

“My necklace?” she blinked and reflexively reached up to clutch it in her hand. 

“Yeah,” he affirmed with a nod. “I don’t really care much about the pirates, but we really need to know why Tomura and the military are after it. It’s clear they want the power of your necklace, but what do they have to gain from it? Clearly, it only activates for you.” 

Ochako looked down, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. She didn’t know why Tomura and the military wanted her pendant, but Katsuki was smart—maybe he could see the reason that she had failed to find. 

“Well… It’s a family heirloom,” she began, looking down at the crystal in her hand. She ran her fingers over his curved sides as she spoke. “My family has lived in the mountains far to the north of here for generations, and so has this necklace been passed down, from mother to daughter. Honestly, I never usually saw it except for during special occasions like weddings. We kept it in a hidden compartment behind the fireplace which was covered by a wood carving of our family crest. We were just a simple farming and livestock family,” she said, looking up wistfully. “We were very happy until my mother and father both caught a very grievous illness a few months ago…” Her eyes flooded with tears then, and she reached up with her free hand to wipe them away with the back of her hand. “I’m just like you… I wasn’t allowed in the house because it was so deadly. I didn’t get to say goodbye.” 

“I’m sorry, Cheeks,” Katsuki murmured, stepping a little closer to her. He allowed her to lean her head on his shoulder as they walked. It was warm, both with his body heat and the soft firelight of the lamp, and that did make her feel a little bit better. They were in this together.

“I moved back into the house after the doctors had removed all the illness from it. I wanted to be close to my parents, so I took out the necklace and started wearing it. I didn’t know that it would turn out to be such an important thing,” she sighed, looking back down at the unassuming pendant. She wondered now what her family really was, what the meaning was behind the family crest etched in gold on the pendant’s surface. “A month after my parents died, Tomura and his men came to the farm. They didn’t tell me anything. They just told me I had to come with them. They had guns… I was so scared.” 

“Bastard, threatening a girl like that,” Katsuki growled under his breath. He slipped his arm around Ochako’s waist in a comforting gesture, sensing how talking about Tomura made her upset. Ochako nodded forlornly, still sweeping tears from her face. 

“We were on our way to a military base, he said,” Ochako continued. “We were taking a dirigible. The pirates attacked, and while I was trying to escape, I fell from the airship… And that’s how I ended up in your mining town.” 

“Hmm,” Katsuki hummed, twitching his nose as he ruminated on the strange, puzzling situation. “Sounds to me like Tomura knows more about your crystal and your family than we do. Izuku Midoriya’s gang is notorious for intercepting military transponders, so he probably learned about it that way, so now we have to deal with both of them.” Sighing, he looked back at Ochako with a small smile. “Ah, don’t look at me like that,” he said as she pouted uncertainly. “We’re gonna get through this, Cheeks. Luck has been on our side so far.” 

She wanted to feel better at his reassurances. She really did. But she just couldn’t help but wonder when their luck would run out. 

“Hello,” Katsuki said suddenly, raising the lantern as he looked ahead. Ochako followed his gaze to see that the mining tunnel had widened out into a large room. Wooden boxes, tables, and dusty equipment littered the cleared space—a base camp of some sort? They walked into the room to a table, where musty old papers still littered the desk. Katsuki picked one up, then gasped. “These are research papers about Uravity!” 

“What?” Sure enough, hypotheses about Uravity were written out in neat script on the paper. Katsuki brought the crinkly, stained paper close to his face, struggling to read the faded text. He set the lantern down inadvertently on the edge of the table. They both gasped as the lantern slipped right off. It crashed to the floor, and though it thankfully didn’t shatter, the fire sputtered out. 

Immediately, the room was bathed in a bright pink glow. 

“What the hell?” Katsuki breathed, turning slowly in a circle to look around. Embedded in the walls and the ceiling were glowing pink stones. Ochako breathed out in wonder, eyes reflecting the beautiful sheen of the pink gems— and then she realized that it seemed awfully familiar. She hastily yanked her necklace back out from underneath her dress and found that it too was glowing in the darkness. 

“Katsuki, look!” 

“What the hell is going on here?” he whispered while he peered down at her necklace. He snatched up the document again and used the soft light from the crystals to resume reading it. After scanning the paragraphs for a minute, he exhaled in awe, “Uravium.”

“What?” 

“These crystals,” he said with a gesture around the room and then pointed to her necklace. “And yours, too. They’re all uravium, and uravium is the gem they mined to make Uravity float in the sky.” 

“What? My crystal is related to Uravity?” she cried in shock. Never in a million years would she have imagined that her crystal was something so important! 

Katsuki looked back down at the old document with a frown. “Yeah. I can’t read most of the rest, but apparently, they discovered this old uravium mine fifty some-odd years ago. But the technology to use uravium has been lost, so the miners turned it over to researchers to see if they could find out more. Apparently, all they were able to really figure out is that the uravium becomes more active when Uravity is floating over the mine.” 

“So that means Uravity is somewhere above us right now!” Ochako realized, and Katsuki nodded. 

“That can’t be a coincidence,” Katsuki huffed and set the paper down on the table. “If your necklace is an uravium crystal, then it could hold the key to finally finding Uravity. Uravity was said to be a major power when it was in its prime. There’s no telling the treasure or weapons still on it. If the military got ahold of it…” 

“That would be disastrous,” Ochako finished gravely. She wrapped her hands around her crystal, smothering the light as if she could hide it from Tomura that way. “But why my family? Why me?”

“I don’t know, Cheeks,” Katsuki sighed and crouched down so he could re-light the fallen lantern. “I don’t think we’ll get the answer to that anytime soon. The only thing that I do know is that we absolutely can’t let a guy like Tomura get his hands on the crystal.” When the lantern flared up, the pink lights were snuffed out, and Ochako unwrapped her hands from her crystal to find it inert once more. Feeling a little nauseous, she tucked it back underneath the collar of her chest. However, she could still feel its weight against her chest, and she could almost imagine it throbbing with that secret power. 

Seeing the worry on her face, Katsuki smiled and reached up to lay his hand on her cheek. She leaned into his touch, appreciating the way his calloused, work-roughened hands felt on her skin. 

“Don’tchu worry about a thing, Cheeks. There ain’t no way in hell I’m gonna let Tomura or those bastard pirates get their hands on ya.” 

“I know.” Ochako smiled. There were a lot of uncertainties in her life right now, but thankfully, she had one thing that was certain—she could count on Katsuki no matter what. That was enough for her to keep pushing forward, no matter how scary things might become. Together, they would discover the secrets of her necklace, of her family, and of Uravity.

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.

#kacchako #bakuraka #bakugo x ochako #ochako x bakugo #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #ochako uraraka #uraraka ochako #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha

[ikenbar]

Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice CH4 PT11

Second to last part until Chapter four comes to a close! I’ll hate to see it go but I’ll be back on my regular schedule after this. Not to mention, Chapter five has got to be one of my favorites. It’s one I actually go back and read when I have spare time! So get excited!! :D

Warnings: Blood, fainting, setting of a dislocated arm (you more hear about it then witness it), cleaning wounds, we got fluff, we got angst (only a tiny bit tho), and we got some of that sweet farm raised and grass fed cliffhangers!! :D

(Chapter Four (Victor and Gavin) Prologue, and part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten can be found here!)

Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D

And an additional note in a previous part of chapter four part three here! (I promise these notes are important)

Chapter four:

Part ten:

“No bodyguards.” I insisted for the uptenth time as Adri and I climbed the stairs to my apartment, “I told you I’m fine. Just a minor scrape.”

“It’s not your scrape that makes me worried.” Victor’s voice had a sense of importance, “It’s how you got it. You were driven off the road, Ikamara! What if you had gotten killed?!”

“It takes a lot more than a few cars and guns to kill me, Victor.”

“Ike-”

“Victor,-” I interrupted, moving the phone to my shoulder to grab my keys from my pocket, “I’m-” I grunted. A sharp pain rushed through my chest. I gripped my side and I handed the phone to Adri. “Talk to victor for me while I grab my keys.” I groaned, trying to keep face. Adri nodded slowly then held the phone up to her ear. 

“Hey Vicky!... It’s a no to ‘Vicky?’ Alright, well, Ike blasted some holes in their tires. They aren’t going anywhere. I promise. And, if they do, you’ll be the first person we call, ok?... alright police first, and then you!” Adri paused a moment as she listened to Victor, “... You want to send a doctor?... Well...” Adri gave me a once over. I threw the keys into my door knob and yanked the phone from Adri’s ear.

“No doctors.” I deadpanned, “I’ve dealt with worse injuries than these. We’ll be fine…” I unlocked my door but didn’t open it right away.  I looked over to Adri, “... Although, one thing is strange to me.” 

“What tipped you off? Was it the fact that you were thrown off the road by a bull headed man, perhaps?” Victor asked with sourness on his tongue.

“No, My-”

“Hold on.” Adri took my phone again but, instead of putting it to her ear, tapped the speaker phone button and held it up between us, “Sorry, V. I was hearing one part of this conversation and it was getting old. Please, Ike.” She gestured for me to continue. 

“... Thanks, Adri.” I cleared my throat, “My evol makes it so I have nearly impenetrable skin. Not even bullets can get through it... if that’s the case-”

“Then what cut your arm?” Victor and Adri had caught on quickly as they asked the same question at the same time. I looked down at my arm. 

“I don’t know. The last time I remember being cut this bad was when I was younger and my evol was still developing.”

“Didn’t you get a cut on your date?” Victor asked, “Do you know what could have caused it?”

“No. I-” I paused, “... that waiter’s cufflink. It was what tore at my shirt so it must have been what cut me too.” 

“Do you remember what kind of cufflink it was?” Victor asked. I looked down and hummed in thought.

“Wait.” Adri said, snapping her fingers, “Some construction work requires them to drill or grind into hard and heavy materials so that the building can be sturdy under certain conditions such as earthquakes or thunderstorms.”

“Interesting fact.” I rolled my eyes, “What does that have to do with-”

“Some of the equipment they use had diamonds embedded in them.”

Something clicked in my head.

“The waiter’s cufflink,” I said slowly, “It must have had a diamond in it as well…”

“Exactly.” Adri nodded.

“Ike,” Victor said, gravely, “Did Montu see your injury?” I felt my blood run cold.

“I… I don’t know.” I gasped, thinking hard about the events that had just transpired, “We were talking for some time but... I don’t think he knew I was hurt… but I was covered in blood.”

“Maybe he thought it was mine.” Adri said quickly and reassuringly, “You were bleeding on me when we were hiding in the ceiling.”

“Let’s hope that’s true.” Victor seemed to have said that more to himself then to me, “... Are you two sure you’re alright being alone right now? If not I can send someone over to-”

“We’re alright.” I reassured, though a little unsure, “No need to send anyone. If I really do need someone over... I have my neighbor. He’s a cop so he’ll be able to protect us if we need it.”

“... He?” Victor asked in a strange tone.

“... Yeah? Why?”

“Nothing. I’ll let you go then. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Alright.” I said, complicated feelings rising in my chest, “Hey, send me a bill for your tires. It was my fault they were-”

“Stop.” Even over the phone, Victor’s tone was still harsh enough to silence me, “It wasn’t your fault. I’ve got it handled so don’t worry about it.”

I sighed, “... Thank you, Victor.” 

“If you feel as if you can’t go to work tomorrow-”

“I’ll be there.” I said quickly.

“... Ok. Get some sleep.”

“You too.”

“I will. Good night, Ike.”

“Good night, Victor.” 

“Good night, V!” Adri chimed.

“... Good night, Adrienne.” Victor sighed. I hung up the phone and Adri tossed it to me, a teasing smirk rising from her lips.

“For a moment it felt like you two had forgotten about me.” She taunted, wiggling her eyebrows, “Maybe I should have just left you two alone!”

“Shut it.” I rolled my eyes and twisted the doorknob to my apartment. The door creaked open revealing a quiet, empty, and dark room. I knew no one was in there but for some strange reason, I felt as if I was being watched. Images from the warehouse flashed in my mind. A room where there were photos of me sitting on the sofa or making something in the kitchen. Montu knew where I lived and had been watching me. I wasn’t afraid of them. I beat them that night. I got away from them… but now…

I looked down at Adri. I had taken the sleeve of her jacket and propped her arm up so it wasn’t hanging so loosely by her side. I grit my teeth as I brushed my side again with my hand. This time, it wasn’t just me in my apartment. It would be my sister too. A bloodied and bruised sister whom I couldn’t rightly take care of alone in my situation… 

I was going to need some help.

With a sigh, I locked eyes with Adri. “We were in a car accident.” I enunciated each word I said with precision, "Got it?"

"Uh, sure?" Adri replied, looking very confused.

I nodded and closed my door as I turned to the apartment across from mine. After a long moment of hesitation, I walked over and knocked on the door. There was a moment of silence then movement came from the other end. Instant regret flooded my body.  I frantically looked down at my bullet ridden clothes and bleeding arm. I quickly pulled off my jacket but my blazer was just as destroyed. I groaned as the door opened to reveal a casually dressed Gavin in the doorway. 

"H-Hey birdcop." I stammered, sounding even more guilty than I looked. At first Gavin looked at me confused, but his face dropped and his eyes dilated. 

“What happened to you?!” Gavin’s voice, though stern, shook slightly as he immediately grabbed for my blood soaked sleeve and inspected it. 

“Car accident.” My jaw felt tight as I spouted out my excuse. Gavin looked up at me.

“This was from a car accident?” Gavin’s voice made it clear he was unconvinced.

I nodded and kept the ball rolling, "I hit a snag in the road and fell head long into a construction site and onto some tools. I scraped up my arm pretty bad… and may have broken a couple of ribs.”

“We need to get you to the hospital.” Gavin reached inside his apartment to grab something.

“No!” I quickly grabbed his arm, wincing as my side sparked in pain, “If I’m in need of any kind of sewing, they won’t be able to poke the needle through my skin and find out I am an evolver. I have the stuff we need in my bathroom. Can… you help us patch up?" 

“Us?” Gavin looked up. His eyes locked on to something. I turned and saw a red faced Adri staring blankly at Gavin, clearly at a loss for words.

“My sister was on the bike with me.” I said, guilt and regret riding on my tongue, “I protected her pretty well but she still has some injuries. Mainly her shoulder being dislocated.”

“Why didn’t you take her to a hospital?” Gavin asked, gesturing with irritation.

“They would insist on working on me if I took her.” I said, folding my arms and looking back at Gavin, “Besides, I figured I could handle it.” Gavin glared down at me. I arched my eyebrow. “If you don’t want to help I’m sure I could-”

“No.” Gavin quickly interrupted me as he walked out of his apartment, “I’ll help.” 

“Good.” I nodded and walked back to my apartment, “Thanks, Birdcop.” Gavin grunted from behind me. I rolled my eyes but a warm feeling still tickled my heart as I reached for the door to my apartment again.

“Are you alright?” Gavin’s soft words made me turn around. He was looking worriedly at Adri, who was looking down at the ground, avoiding all eye contact.

“Y-yep!” She stammered, face somehow getting even redder than before.

“Are you sure?” Gavin reached out to her, “Your face is really red. Are you cold?” The moment Gavin’s hand touched her elbow, a small yelp came from Adri’s mouth. She quickly covered it with her free hand and ran next to me.

“Open the damn door.” She whispered, pulling on my sleeve.

“I don’t know.” I cooed, arching my eyebrow as I smirked, “I kinda wanna see where this goes.” Adri cursed and forced my hand away from the doorknob. She threw the door open and ran inside, despite how dark the room still was. I bit back the comments riding on my tongue as I switched on the lights. Suddenly the apartment had become as inviting as it usually was. I sighed lightly with relief as Gavin walked in behind me. I looked up at him. Worry and confusion played on his eyes as he looked at Adri. I patted his arm lightly. "Don’t worry.” I whispered, causing him to look down at me, “She’s always like this.” 

“Really?” Gavin’s expression softened slightly. I nodded.

“Now, make yourself at home." I said in my normal tone as I walked into the apartment and towards the bathroom, "I’ll be right out with what we need.” I walked past Adri, who had fallen onto the couch, slumped over, and covered her face with her jacket. I smirked and continued walking, deciding against making fun of her. At that point, she would kill me faster then Montu would. 

Just as I got to the bathroom door, I paused to look back at the room. Gavin had made his way to the couch, sitting next to Adri delicately. He spoke to her in a tone soft enough that I couldn’t hear them. I had some idea though when Adri’s nervous expression turned into one of horror. Gavin was likely telling her how he was going to set her arm. Something he shouldn’t have to do because the whole ordeal was my fault. But there was no way I could with my ribs being the way they were. 

I tapped at the door, watching them a little longer before finally entering the bathroom. Whether or not it was my fault was not important. No matter what, Adri was still hurt and she needed help, and Gavin was going to help her… 

He was going to help us.

After I was sure I was out of everyone’s eyeline, I collapsed onto the counter in pain. I clutched at my side and gritted my teeth. When had it become so hard to breathe? I panted in short breaths as I opened my mirror. I immediately located the first aid kit.

… on the top shelf. 

Of course it was.

I cursed and tapped my finger on the counter. Would it even be worth the pain? I could just run the scratch over some water and be fine! I’ll use an old t-shirt or something to stop the blood! We’d be-

I heard a painful cry come from outside of the bathroom. I cringed as guilt rushed through my stomach. After another moment of thought, I took a deep breath and reached for the first aid kit. Pain erupted and pushed throughout my chest. Gritting my teeth to the point of breaking, I quickly grabbed the first aid kit and collapsed once more unto the counter. But, because I had used all of my energy to grab the kit, I slipped onto the floor instead. I hit the floor hard as I fell to my knees. Nausea rushed through my throat as black dots flooded my vision, threatening a blackout. I clutched my head and moaned, fighting to stay conscious as the familiar feeling of exhaustion hit me like a truck. 

Hurried footsteps approached the bathroom. I tried fixing myself to look less pathetic but the quick motion ended up making me feel even worse. A figure appeared next to me, kneeling down and surveying me closely. “Hey,” Gavin’s worried voice echoed slightly in my ears, “Are you alright?”

“Peachy.” I gasped, looking over at him. Gavin’s form seemed to be shifting slightly, making it hard for me to focus on him. I closed my eyes and rubbed them as I shoved the first aid kit into his stomach. “Here.” I groaned, “take that to Adri. She’ll…” My balance faltered. The hand on my back quickly moved to my arm, pulling me into Gavin’s chest.

“Hey,” Gavin quickly patted my cheek, “Stay with me, Ike.” I shook my head and weakly brushed away his hand.

“I’m fine.” I lied, “Just give the kit to A-” Before I could finish, I felt the first aid kit slide back onto my lap. I opened my eyes in time to see Gavin slip his arm under my knees. “W-wait-” I began, but it was too late. Gavin carefully pulled me close to him and lifted me up, making sure to take it slow so as to not make my condition worse. I fell further into his chest and gripped at his shirt, closing my eyes again as another wave of nausea crashed into my throat.

“You still here, Ike?” Gavin asked softly, rubbing his thumb over my arm.

“A warning would have been nice.” I groaned, letting my head fall onto his shoulder. Gavin held me tighter as he moved out of the room. A small gasp came from somewhere in the room. 

“Is she ok?!” Adri, through the exhaustion in her voice, sounded incredibly worried as Gavin led me further into the room.

“She’s fine.” Gavin said, his voice vibrating through his chest, “She’s just pushed herself a little farther than necessary.” I weakly flicked at Gavin’s chin. Gavin chuckled, the air from his nose teasing my bangs and cooling the cold sweat on my forehead. 

I opened my eyes as Gavin gently placed me down next to Adri on the couch. He lay my head on one of the throw pillows on the couch and raised my knees up as he tucked a pillow underneath them, keeping them from falling. Gavin took the first aid kit and placed it on the coffee table behind him. Once he was sure I was taken care of, Gavin knelt down next to me.

“Ike-” He began. I raised a hand.

“Ice packs are in the top door of the fridge.” I took my raised hand and pointed it to the kitchen, “Grab one for Adri. While you’re there you can grab me a juice box from the fridge so I don’t pass out.” Gavin nodded and quickly stood from my side. I looked over to Adri. She was watching Gavin, gripping her shoulder tightly. Though she was putting on a tough face, I could tell she was in pain. “Hey, kiddo.” I kicked her lightly, pulling her attention to me, “How are you doing?” Adri looked at me strangely for a moment, then she sighed.

“You know,” Adri elbowed me playfully, “If someone wasn’t already trying to, I would kill you right now.” She smirked. Although it was weak and obviously full of pain, I was glad to see her smile again. I smiled too, winking playfully to her.

Gavin walked back over to us, two ice packs and a grape juice box in hand. He handed me the box. I carefully moved to sit up as I reached for it. Gavin’s hand twitched. I gave him a a reassuring look as I took the box. He hesitated a moment, watching me take a few sips of the juice before moving to sit next to Adri. “Sorry.” He said, handing her an ice pack, “I wish there was a better way to get it back in.”

“It’s fine.” Adri sighed, taking the pack from him and placing it on her shoulder, “I feel like we have grown closer to each other this way.” Gavin chuckled lightly, causing a warm blush to push through Adri’s cheeks. She cleared her throat and stood up carefully from the couch. Both Gavin and I reacted, moving to help her. “I’m fine!” She said, hurriedly waving away our hands as she held her arm up, “I’m just gonna take a quick shower. Ike, you don’t mind if I borrow some clothes do you?”

“Do you think a shower is a good idea?” Gavin asked seriously, “I just set your arm.”

“Well, I’m covered in dirt and blood, so I’m gonna say yes.” She walked across the room and to my bedroom.

“Maybe a bath would be better.” I said as Adri opened my closet, “There’s less of a chance that you could accidentally hurt your arm. And you can keep that ice pack on you.” Adri paused at the door, thinking over my offer, “... I have bath salts under the sink.”

“Sold!” Adri chimed, smiling excitedly as she reached into the closet. She pulled out one of my flannels and a pair of yoga pants then shut the door. She turned to us. “Make sure she hurts like I did, Officer.” Adri said, skipping into the bathroom, “I wanna hear her scream!” I shook my head and glared at her. Adri spit out her tongue and closed the door behind her, leaving Gavin and I alone together on the couch.

Gavin cleared his throat as sat closer to me. “How’s your side?” He asked, handing me the second ice pack in his hand.

“Could be worse.” I grunted, taking the pack and swinging my legs off of the couch, finally feeling strong enough to completely sit up. Gavin reached out but I shooed his hand away. Instead I looked him seriously in the eye. “Thank you for doing that.” I said, tone matching my stare, “I know it must have been hard setting her arm on your own.”

“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t that far out of place.” Gavin replied just as seriously as he looked me over, “Besides, it was nothing compared to how it was seeing you on the floor back there.” My heart froze. Gavin reached out and touched the back of his hand to my forehead, “I heard a thud so I rushed to check on you. You were as pale as a ghost. I was scared I didn’t get there in time.” Gavin’s hand fell onto my cheek. I quickly turned my head away from him. I didn’t want him to feel how warm my cheeks were getting.

“Y-yeah. Sorry about that.” I said, swirling the juicebox in my hand absentmindedly, “You said it yourself. I just... pushed myself a little farther than necessary.” There was a soft pause. Then Gavin sighed and reached to inspect my arm once more. The moment his calloused fingers grazed my wound, shots of electricity strung up my body. After he inspected it closer, Gavin let go of my hand. His expression changed to one of determination and he reached over to grab the first aid kit. Since the kit was so far from him, Gavin had to lean over me, rubbing his chest on my arm and pushing his leg against mine. I could feel the heat emanating from his clothes as he leaned even closer to me. I felt the burn in my cheeks rise. I quickly turned from him and covered my face, coughing awkwardly to break the air.

After what had seemed like forever, Gavin finally pulled away from me, first aid kit in hand and obliviousness dripping from his aura. He moved a little further away from me and placed the kit on his lap. 

"Take your clothes off." Gavin said nonchalantly as he opened it’s lid.

My eyelids flew open. "Excuse me?" I arched my eyebrows and looked at Gavin with a smirk, "I'm flattered, Birdcop, but buy me dinner first." 

"I mean take off your jacket and shirt.” Gavin rolled his eyes, as he pulled some alcohol and cotton out of the kit, “How do you expect me to clean your wound with your clothes on?”

“Carefully.”

“Ike, just the jacket and the shirt. Stop making this harder than it has to be.” 

I rolled my eyes and moved to remove my jacket. The pain in my chest reappeared.  I hitched my breath and grabbed my side, grimacing through the pain. 

There was a moment of awkward silence. 

We both knew what had to be done.

"Can I-" Gavin started. I held up a finger to quiet him. After a moment I sighed and used that finger to point at him.

"No one tells Minor." I muttered, glaring at the image of Minor's face that popped into my mind, "Agreed?"

"Agreed." Gavin answered resoundly, a tone of dread leaking from his tongue. I nodded then moved closer to him. Gavin also slid closer and grabbed my blazer by the collar, slowly and carefully pulling it down and off my shoulders. Fragments of debris rained onto the couch as folds of fabric came undone. "Glass?" Gavin asked. 

"... I crashed through a window." I said, hesitantly.

"Where did you crash?" Gavin's voice almost had a hint of laughter.

"Just off of Aspen and Brooks." I answered honestly, "There's a new apartment being built there."

"Really?" Gavin sounded skeptical as he moved the jacket steadily past my scrape, "I just received word from a cop buddy of mine that there was gunfire coming from there."

"Really?" I asked, thinking fast.

"Yeah, multiple shots."

"My tire blew and I fell into some tools. I wonder if someone thought it was gunshots and miss called."

"Maybe." Gavin finally pulled my jacket off of me, "I was told it was a false alarm." Mixed feelings welled in my chest as Gavin came closer to me. How did Montu get out of there in time? If the police was called for gunshots, there was no way they would get those cars out of there in ti-

Gavin's hands pulled at the buttons of my shirt. Flustered, I quickly pushed him back. "Uh, I-I can do the buttons." I stammered, unbuttoning my shirt quickly and shakily. Gavin backed away quickly, holding his hand up to his mouth and nodding.

"R-right." He muttered, "Sorry." I looked up at him. His ears blossomed into a bright red as he searched frantically around the room for something to look at. I smiled slightly, both from how adorable he was acting and also from the quick distraction from the subject.

I finished undoing my shirt and Gavin helped pull it off of me. I thanked my lucky stars that I wore a tank top that day as Gavin took a better look at the damage done to my arm. He pursed his lips but didn’t say much more. Instead, he moved back to the alcohol and cotton from before and set the box back on the coffee table. Gavin took the cotton ball, coated it in alcohol, then carefully cleaned the wound. I winced as it stung my arm. Deciding to focus on something else, I kept my eyes on Gavin. He was extremely focused on the task at hand. His hands brushed over my skin with a sort of movement that proved that this wasn't his first time dealing with this type of wound. 

My thoughts seemed to drift as I looked into his eyes. They were full of determination but there was also a soft note of worry. He seemed to be detracting himself from the worry by cleaning my arm but he couldn't quite hide the fact that it was still there, bugging him obsessively.

That tone vanished as Gavin locked eyes with something on my arm. He stopped cleaning as his worry and determination were replaced with shock. Then anger. "So," Gavin said, clicking his tongue slightly, "Where did you land exactly?"

"I… already told you." My defences rose slightly to his change of attitude, "I crashed my bike into some construction tools."

"Oh really?" Gavin's grip around my arm tightened, as if prepared to stop me from running. He grabbed a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit then used them to pluck something out from the middle of my arm. I winced and looked at what he had grabbed. My blood pooled to my feet.

"I don't remember bullets being used in building construction." Gavin waved Dylan's flattened bullet in front of my face.

"...oh yeah." I shakily said, repositioning myself on the couch, "I also ran into Montu while I was there."

The bullet fell from the tweezers.

“You what?!” Gavin's tone changed dramatically as his grip tightened even further, "When were you going to tell me about this?!" Gavin spoke sharply. 

“After Adri had left.” I groaned and pawed at Gavin’s hand, trying to get him to let it go. He did so by throwing it aside and standing up.

"Why do I not believe you?!" Gavin growled, pulling out his phone and tapping it fervently.

"...what are you doing?" I asked, fear rising in my gut.

"I'm calling it in!" Gavin put the phone to his ear, "This is agent-"

"No!" I jumped at Gavin and took his phone. Pain erupted from my side but I merely grunted through it as I hung up the call and tossed the phone aside. Unable to take it anymore, I hissed and fell to my knees, catching myself on my coffee table before I completely hit the ground.

"What are you doing?!" Gavin barked, bending down to help me up, "I was jus-" I covered Gavin's mouth.

"Montu's room from the warehouse had pictures from my apartment." I spoke in a harsh whisper, "I have no idea if he is listening right now or not. Saying your emergency code right now may not be the best option.” Gavin stared at me intently for a moment. I stared back meaningfully.

Ultimately, after a long moment of silence, Gavin pulled my hand from his face and looked at me with a softened expression as he clutched it tightly. I eased my shoulders slightly, looking in his eyes for any sign of contentment. Gavin noticed this and sighed. Before I could say anything, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He softly said, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand.

“I’m pretty sure I’d be the death of me.” I said, leaning against his forehead. Gavin chuckled. Something pulled at my chest. His laugh, which was once a sound of reassurance, now sounded strained, as if he was holding something back. 

Without delaying any longer, Gavin helped me to my feet again and onto the couch. He brought the first aid kit to his lap as he grabbed my arm again. “...Gavin.” I started, “I-”

“Ike.” Gavin interrupted, cleaning my arm once more from newly formed blood, “No more excuses. Talk to me honestly. What happened?” I froze. He sounded exhausted. Likely from me hiding so much from him and my constant lies. But if I told him anything, I would be taken off of the case! And I couldn’t afford to lose the progress I was making. Not to mention, the progress I had made with him! If I told Gavin now, he would hate me and we would just go back to the way things were before. I would never forgive myself if that were to happen. I needed to keep this a secret for as long as possible. For him… for us.

I sighed, “I had just gotten back off from work…”

>>>

I traced my finger down the bandage around my arm. Gavin and I had been sitting in silence for what seemed like forever, brewing over what just been said. 

“... That’s it?” Gavin said, looking at his hands as he slumped over the couch.

“Yup.” I sighed.

“You blew holes in their tires then left.”

“Right.”

“And you are certain they said that they were going to visit another evolver tonight as well?”

I closed my eyes, “Yeah. Very certain.”

“Alright then.” Gavin stood up, “This is a good lead. And it looks like you were right about Dylan. I’m going to need his information for when we take him in for questioning.”

“Right.” I said, but my thoughts didn’t agree. If Montu meant what he said, there was no way he was going to let Dylan go after losing me again. Whether that meant through death or something else, I didn’t know. All I did know is that there was no chance we were hearing from Dylan anytime soon. 

“And Dylan said he did that on his own? No one made him go after you?” Gavin asked.

“Yes.” My voice shook slightly as I stood up as well. Gavin held out a helping hand but I brushed him off casually as I made my way to my bedroom, “Dylan told me outright that he had a vendetta against me. And that he was the one that threw the bomb.” I reached my closet and sighed, “Now, can we be done? I’ve had a long day.” I opened the closet doors and reached for a fresh set of clothes.

“One last thing.” Gavin walked up behind me. Before I could figure out what was happening, he had pinned me between himself and the closet, shutting out any way of escape. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me, locking my eyes in his. There was a flurry of emotions in his honey-like glow. Each emotion moved so fast, I couldn’t keep up with any of them. 

I moved to look away but Gavin grabbed my chin, pulling my face back onto him. “I need you to promise me that there is nothing else you are keeping from me.” Gavin spoke in a tone I had never heard him use. It was full of earnestness and determination… and worry, “And I need you to promise me you don’t have any life threatening secret that you are keeping from me. Promise me you have and will always tell me everything that pertains to this. That pertains to your safety.” I hesitated. Gavin’s grip tightened, “Please, Ike. 

“Promise me.” 

I couldn’t move. Nor could I promise him something so important. But, I knew what would happen if I didn’t...

“... I… I promise.” I said, already beating myself up for doing something so stupid. Gavin’s stare was intense as he read my face, looking for some sort of lie. Before he could find it, I pushed his hand away and reached behind me, pulling a sweater off from a hanger. “Like I can keep anything from you anyway.” I scoffed, pushing him aside as I searched for clothes, “You’ve pulled everything I’ve tried to hide from you out of me anyway. Might as well just come clean, right?”

“I hope you mean that.” Gavin practically whispered as he backed away from me. I hummed but decided not to say anything more, too afraid to let anything slip.

After I had found an outfit, I turned and looked at Gavin. He had his arms folded and was staring at the ground, lost in thought. Sensing my eyes, Gavin looked up at me. I twirled my finger in the air. Gavin blushed and quickly nodded, turning on his heel to face away from me. From this angle, I could see just how red his ears had gotten. I smirked and carefully removed my tank top, avoiding using too much effort. The last thing I needed was to be in so much pain that Gavin needed to help me undress as well.

Gavin cleared his throat, "I think it goes without saying that I'm spending the night here." 

"Oh does it?" I hummed, only half paying attention as I got dressed.

"Yes. For your and your sister's protection."

"Thank you for the offer but I think I can handle it from here."

"But you're injured." Gavin slightly turned his head, "How can you expect to protect anyone in your condition?"

"Carefully." I pushed Gavin's head back around. 

“You should copyright that phase.” Gavin grumbled. After a pause, he sighed, "Ike, I just want to make sure you’re safe. Just one night. That’s all I ask.”

I thought for a moment. I wouldn’t be able to talk to Adri about anything while he was here. Not to mention, Gavin wouldn’t have any place to sleep as Adri would be taking the couch… but he was right. If something were to happen while Adri was here, I wouldn’t be able to protect her. After all, Montu looked pretty peeved last I saw him. It would be nice to have a cop stay the night…

“Fine.” I said, buttoning the last button on my new shirt as I walked into Gavin’s view once more, “But you need to promise not to bombard Adri with any questions. The whole thing was pretty traumatic for her.”

A bang came from the bathroom door. “Alright!” Adri came walking out of the bathroom with a large flannel and loose yoga pants, “Who’s ready to get this party started?!”

Gavin folded his arms and turned back to me, “Oh yeah. She looks like she is positively shaking from trauma.”

 (Next)

#hehehehehheh the old fixing the injuries fluff #come on #yall knew it was coming #and yall knew it would be with birdcop #i bet even birdcop knew it too #mr love #mlqc #mr love gavin #mlqc gavin fluff #mlqc gavin #mlqc gavin angst #mlqc angst #mlqc fluff #mlqc fanfiction #mr love fanfiction #mr love ikes choice #ikenbarproductions

[starswornoaths]

Make up day Prompt 4: Clinch

I wish I had eloquent summary words to put here, but I went off and wrote 4k words of socially distanced aether sex with heavy Dark Knight themes and unabashed use of its quest dialogue. Serella/Aymeric. Set post 4.2, long after Aymeric came out to her (which I’m saving for it’s own actual fic rather than a prompt response.) I’m off to hide my face in a pillow now.

word count: 4,108

By the time a surprise call to his personal linkpearl, Aymeric could admit he was in need of a break from the myriad reports yet piled on his desk. Though his hand cramped fiercely, he forced it to work long enough to answer.

“Dear one.” His ears perked when he heard his beloved’s softly sleepy voice sigh through the static.

“Ella.” Aymeric sank into his seat with a smile, already far less tense than he had been. “I had wondered when we could next speak. I pray you have been well.”

“Well enough, if terribly homesick.” Serella replied. “Have you been eating? Getting enough sleep?”

Her questions made his exhaustion more tangible; he had been attempting for the last several bells to stave off sleep and hunger both with an abundance of coffee and stubbornness. Reminded of the hour, his eyes burned with the want to slip shut.

“Inconsistently, though such is the way of it,” Aymeric answered honestly around a yawn.

“Don’t stay awake on my behalf. Please— did you work from home today?” At his assenting hum, she sighed. “Small miracles. I know you well enough to know you’ve been in the study all day. Go upstairs, dear one, and lie down.” 

He spared an agonized glance over at the final stack of reports yet to be sorted through. Much as he was more than ready— more than needing to lie down and rest, the end was close. When tired, faintly trembling fingers couldn’t even properly grip the paper for how blurred his depth perception had become, he knew it was high time and then some to admit defeat.

“I will— though promise you will keep talking?” He asked, and though he felt a might petulant for it, he could not help his need to hear her voice purring so soothingly in his ear. “I have missed you.”

“And I you, dear one. So very, very much.” 

The room began to sway when he stood, inspiring a frown to mar his brow. He had to take a moment to balance his weight appropriately on his feet before leaving the study.

“Truly?” His question caught around a tangle of emotion in his throat, on his surprise at the open longing in her tone.

“Enough that writing a letter wouldn’t do tonight. I needed to hear you.”

Aymeric took the few moments ascending the stairs in quiet contemplation. That they were well established in their relationship and affection mattered little; there were still moments such as this that caught him off guard with just how loved he felt. Loved, and cherished, and wanted, aye, and horribly, unbearably lonely in that moment; as he stepped into their bedroom and let the door close heavily behind him, he eyed the vast, empty bed and felt her absence keenly. Hers, Estinien’s both. Even the act of shedding his clothing and crawling beneath the downy soft duvet did little to make it feel warmer, nor adequately occupied.

“Would that you were here.” He sighed before he realized he had even spoken at all.

“I will be.” Serella promised him. 

In a moon’s time, he recalled somberly, and had to bite back the reminder. It was more like than not that she was counting down the hours as much as the rest of them were. He heard her shift— where was she, and what was she doing, he wondered. 

“But...if you can forgive my impatience, and you’re of like mind, I would feel you tonight.”

Such a sweet offer, open and honest in its yearning ache, welcome in the cold bed as a balm on his chilled skin. It was enough to make his breath hitch in his throat. Despite the exhaustion, despite the weariness and the burning in his eyes, this was kindling on a low roiling flame that he could not douse on his own, embers kicking to life in a roar of blood in his ears.

“Find me in the dark, my dear.” Aymeric all but begged.

A plea, a chant, a prayer murmured in the quiet dark. Laid bare beneath the covers, he offered himself to their church in the dark, unfurled himself to receive her blessing. Communion, where distance that could not be unmade was instead ignored entirely.  

Starved for her, near vibrating with anticipation as he was, he scarcely breathed as he waited, open and pliant and wanting. Wanting this, wanting her, wanting something to ground him and remind him that she was alright. Few though the times they had done this were, he was as familiar with her as his own heartbeat, even before he had tasted her aether. He waited for her to descend upon him, trembling but unafraid.

Aymeric gasped at the first soft brushes of her aether against his hand. He could not see her, he never could when they did this, even once she bridged the distance between them, but he felt the way her aether shaped itself in her image, to lace with his fingers, to hold his hand. With practiced breathing and a conscious effort to empty his mind, he could practically feel her clinch the tethers of her soul to his. He exhaled heavily around a smile, sinking into the dark. Into her.

“Ah, there you are.” Serella said, words wrapped around a sigh of relief.

Fingers unseen lightly traced the angles of his face— he could not count them, and he did not want to. He could feel her; the details mattered little. The trails they blazed on his skin tingled with the want of more, even as the touch itself bordered on almost too much. Already overwhelmed, he pressed his cheek into the pillow that yet had her scent to help him find some part of her here.

“You found me— ah! Rather quickly,” He rasped, chest heaving. 

“Of course I did. I would know you anywhere.” 

Her voice was calm and quiet. It slid over him like crushed velvet over silk sheets. With his eyes closed and her unseen hands drifting through his hair, he could almost swear the static of the linkpearl faded away. For a moment, he let himself believe she was home, here, with him. The hand she had reached out to hold was released in favor of tracing down the lines of his neck, along the path of his collarbone. He shuddered bodily against the fissure of contentment it shot through him.

“Would that I could reach you in kind.” He lamented softly, his mauldin thoughts offering a brief, lucid moment amid the floating feeling he was rapidly sinking into.

“In time. You’re getting better.” Serella reassured him.

Concentration on his own aether had not been a primary focus in his training as a knight, beyond knowing how to use Holy and Clemency. Having to learn to use his aether as an extension of himself rather than a resource to tap into proved difficult, but he was learning— and had ample incentive to master it.

And an apt, patient tutor that he did not deserve.

“Reach out for me,” She instructed in a breathy whisper.

His brow knit in concentration, mapping out the trail of her aether from where it touched him, trying desperately to find her in the dark. A grunt of mild frustration with himself escaped him when he struggled to push his aether outside of himself.

“Breathe deep through your nose─let the air fill your lungs, then let it pass from your lips.” He obeyed, chest rising and falling in heavy pants. Gently, she tutted, “Slower, slower…”

In the span of a few breaths, the bed fell away. There was only her scent in his nose, her aether embedded in his soul, touching, caressing, and his own reaching, reaching, searching— 

“Listen to my voice. Listen to your heartbeat. Listen…”

The more Aymeric focused, the less there was of him left to feel, and less of her to find. She thrummed in the space that was meant to be his chest, weightless and dissolved as he was. With every breath he grew lighter and slipped further into the abyss…

“Ella.” He sighed her name on a pleading exhale, in exaltation, in worship, in need.

As a lock gives in to a key, her name was as a causeway for him to at last find her in the dark. She was as a radiant sun, dark skin aglow in her own light, eyes twinkling like twin stars in his orbit, hair bleeding into the shadows until he couldn’t tell where the darkness ended and she began. It was only as a flash in his mind, gone as fast as a shooting star in the night sky, but he relished in her surprised grin, bright and toothy and all for him.

The small of his back left the bed at the shock of her fully wrapping herself around him, sinking into him, just a little, just enough. He could no longer tell whether it was because he pulled her in, or she had fallen into him. It no longer mattered.

“Oh, there you are.” He whispered in rapturous relief.

Her chuckle was all dark velvet and smoke against the shell of his ear. He shuddered, even as he welcomed the sensation.

“Did I not tell you? Have I not promised?” She pressed, and as she did he had to remind himself that it was not her mouth latching onto his neck. “You could call out to me in nothing more than a whisper, and I would still hear you a world away. I would still answer you from the grave.” That tingling, overwhelming sensation left his neck and brushed almost chastely against his brow. “Did you not know?”

“I did,” Aymeric panted as a single line of fire being drawn from the dip of his throat down, down, down his torso, plucking inspiration along his muscles that jolted his tailbone up from the mattress. “I did, I do, Ella, please—”

“Please what?”

Serella’s words might have been innocent, but those hands that were not there, searing and soft and aching as they were, had begun to trace lines along his chest, his sides, over the ever so faint flare of his hips down to the insides of his quivering thighs. If her words had ignited his blood, the sensation of her rippling across the surface of his very soul engulfed him entirely.

Another touch— the sensation of a hand carefully taking hold of his chin. He wondered if she could sense the way his throat bobbed with a heavy swallow. A press against his lips sent him quivering with the want to reciprocate and the urge to recoil from the overstimulation entirely.

“You need only ask.”

“I miss you.” Aymeric whispered, as though that could even encapsulate everything he felt, everything he wanted to say. Likely, she already knew it all anyroad. “Touch me?”

“You have to tell me where.” She hissed voice tight against her own need.

Likely, she could have felt for it, dipped her fingers deeper than the surface to pluck at his needs and taste them between her teeth, but that was not her way. She needed consent from him, for them both. Adoration, already insurmountable in its depth, swelled all the more in his chest. 

“I love you.” He sighed.

“That doesn’t tell me where I can touch.” A laugh, huffed in soft awe from half a world away, interrupted her. He felt it against his temple when she brushed her aether there in a kiss. “But I love you, too.”

Heat bloomed on his face, and crept outward to pull down to his chest, up to the tips of his ears. If she kept going in that low, purring voice of hers, he was certain that blush would only continue to spread. At the thought of answering, the heat practically doubled, his lucidity crumbling.

Back and forth, back and forth, aether rubbed against his hips, squeezing intermittently, comforting. It felt almost close enough to her hands that his mind could remember how the callouses on her palms felt. Ah, a brief moment of awareness flickered through the pleasurable haze: their connection was deepening. There was a startling amount of comfort to be found in that.

“Can you feel it? Where I want you?” He asked, more than half into the pillow for how deeply he breathed in her scent.

“...Yes.” She whispered as if in great reluctance.

“Then...then am I not telling you?”

His words tapered off at a caress, soft and cool as fresh fallen snow, stroked down his lips, his chin, his neck, and traced circles against his sternum. A shudder rippled through him, down to his toes. Overheated and overwhelmed, the duvet fell away— or he might have kicked it off. He gripped blindly at sheets and pillows, no less warm for how she encompassed him. 

Hesitation radiated from her— he would have known it even were they not tethered thus. With a demure, “please,” moaned into the pillow, surety chased the doubt away.

The pressure returned to his inner thigh, soft as a whisper, tickling the muscle there as he twitched and wriggled, delighted and frustrated all at once— until it slithered up, up, up—

Aymeric gasped wetly at the cool brush of aether slipping into him. Despite the lack of something solid he felt full as it slipped into him, expanded— or were those more fingers? The dark obscured everything but the pleasure that rippled across him. At a stroke against his clit, he squeezed his thighs, face flushing hotly at the wet squelch of him.

“Ohh, you haven’t had time to take care of yourself, have you?” Serella moaned in his ear. 

Any intelligible response he had died in a whine when she began to pump within him— and how peculiar, how he felt near full to bursting despite being so empty— when he made to reach for himself, to try to reconcile the ache between his thighs with how deliciously she had stretched to fill him, she tutted in his ear.

“You know better. Behave for me.” 

His ears burned. His hands shook, even as they returned to clutching at the sheets and her pillow. 

“What,” Aymeric stammered half into the pillow. “Would you have of me?”

“Everything, in time.” Her voice was all hushed husk and promise, and it settled deep in the pit of his chest. “But for now, open up for me.”

Another touch at the inside of his knee, a different hand— were there more than two? He could not tell anymore— coaxing his legs to go lax enough for him to ease. With a deep breath (slower, slower…) he let the muscles within him that had clinched ease. He felt Serella everywhere, whispers of warm aether that left him shivering, brushes of cold that left him panting. It was all he could do to hear her and obey (listen to my voice, listen…) and pray for salvation.

“There we are.” His shield cooed, and he felt little pecks of aether— if he focused, they felt almost wet, like open mouthed kisses— trail from his lips down to his fluttering pulse at his neck. “Such a good boy for me. So, so good.” 

She moved again, in him. Her rhythm was slow, methodical. Testing. He still could not divine with what part of her he was being filled, but reconciled that it no longer mattered: it was her, and that was enough. A lack of those familiarly lewd, wet noises that accompanied the slide of something inside him would have been jarring, were he not so sunk into the abyss as he was. 

“Need you here.” He whispered, and fought the urge to curl himself bodily around the pillow. 

“I am here. Find me in the dark, dear one.”

Even through the mounting pressure, even through the winding coil in his belly that warned him of his impending demise, he pushed out again, searching, needing. The pleasure was excruciating, exquisite. It was too much, it was not enough—

The tangle of hair in his fingers, luxurious and soft as a dream. Scars he had mapped out a thousand thousand times over in the dark of night, smoothed over with the passage of time. He felt them beneath his palms, relished in the delighted gasp it drew from her. It distracted him— his discovery and the pleasure she was dedicated to wringing out of him both— and he could not quite— he struggled to map where his hands should go— 

“Dearest.” He panted, hips stuttering against her touch, steadily growing surer, faster, greedier. His already closed eyes squeezed, his focus fraying as the pleasure mounted.

“I’m here, even when you can’t find me. It’s alright.” She was babbling— ah, she was close, riding his high through their shared connection. “I have you, let go, I have you—”

He did as he was told. He was hers to command. He was hers, always. 

His trust was returned a hundred fold, and along with more of those softer, gentle caresses through his hair, presses to his temple, his mouth, in heated kisses that he could not chase, that sliding piston of aether— more defined, the more he felt, with tendrils that tapered off like fingers that hooked, stroked, flexed inside of him— working him so hard he could no longer keep still. 

Head thrown back into her pillow, Aymeric helplessly cried out, restraint abandoned, as he felt himself build perilously toward release— himself, and her, too, he realized as Serella let out a muffled moan. It was effortless to picture her, teeth sunk into her bedroll, hands working at the natural kyanite foci she had, curled into herself to keep quiet in camp. Digging his heels into the mattress, he scrabbled for purchase, hips working in time with her stroking, even knowing it would do nothing.

“Please— c-close, please—”

Serella’s strained “mhm,” was nearly lost in the tinny static of the linkpearl, but it was maybe another few dexterous strokes— or perhaps it had been an hour of them, time had long since lost its meaning to him— when finally the coil snapped, and some distant part of him was grateful for the silencing enchantments she had put in place before her departure for how he all but wailed at the weight of his orgasm as it hit him. It was no release, it was a crushing, shattering constriction of his every nerve, the destruction of every thought that was not relevant to her or their shared pleasure, a calamity of every sense he possessed in his earthly body. 

There was no freedom from this blissful height, this agonizing climb beyond rapture: Serella continued.

“‘M not done,” She growled in his ear, and a sob tore from him. “Stay with me, ‘m close, ‘m close, be good for me—”

Just as Serella gave him the sensation of her touch, so, too, was he gifted with the feeling of her pleasure. Aymeric could feel her teeter on a knife’s edge, so perilously close to falling over—

Lacking in the mastery of aether touch, he yet had other weapons he could put to use.

“Please, my dear— you’re so good to me.” He moaned, blinking back the tears that welled from the overstimulation. At her choked back gasp, he curled on his side, thighs pressing in a way that left them both gasping when the motion pressed on his swollen oversensitive clit. “Come for me, won’t you? Oh—”

At the thrusting inside him growing more powerful, more insistent, he shuddered so violently he wound up holding himself up on his forearms, overstimulated into trying to rock backwards, moved into needing more, needing less—

Desperate, he clutched at the back of his own head, gathered a fistful of his hair, and pulled. The sharp stinging was pleasurable, in contrast to the smooth glide of her unseen fingers inside of him, and he could tell she felt that difference acutely.

“How fucking dare you—” Serella cursed through her teeth.

“Anything,” He panted, desperate, openly weeping at the way his whole body near vibrated with the overloading of his sense. His grip on his hair tightened. “Anything to help, anything for you, please, Ella—”

Blindly fumbling but no less eager to see to her pleasure, he reached out, out, out with one more push, and sunk his teeth into the pillow the moment he felt his aether press back against hers.

If his orgasm had robbed him of any sense and sensibility, her orgasm bowling him over while he tried to recover from the aftershocks of his own was enough to rob the breath from his lungs. He forgot how to even gasp for more of it, eyes rolling back in his head, mouth falling open to let go of the pillow, needing to let go of his hair for fear of ripping it out—

Aymeric was all but certain he cried out further at her release, but he only heard her muffled sighs, her strained, choked back cries of pleasure at each wave that rippled from her to him. Would that she were truly, physically here, he could drink in how vocal she could get, how he could get her to absolutely sing for him, when they had the time to properly indulge.

“Stay with me.” He whispered when he remembered how to breathe. “A while longer.”

“Lest we both crash. I know. I have you.” She panted into the connection.

Her aether slipped out of him as smoothly as it had entered. He shuddered, wincing at the realization that his thighs were positively dripping with his quim. Once he could get his legs under him, that would need tending to. 

Tomorrow, likely, he realized when he tested wiggling his toes and realized he could not feel it. 

Despite the emptiness between his legs, he could only curl up, reaching blindly for the blanket again, as her aether took to soothing him. Stroking at his hair, gently rubbing at the base of his skull where he had pulled— ah, a bit too hard, he realized belatedly. 

“You’re getting better at this.” Serella spoke up, voice a tired but pleased purr.

“And you are entirely too good at it.” He huffed, all pretense of annoyance undermined by his giddy laugh. “My legs have left me.”

“A pity. They’ll run into Estinien when he gets home, I’m sure. He’s due back tonight, yeah?”

Aymeric gave a tired hum, sinking into the mattress almost as deeply as he had in the abyss. Not nearly as deeply as he had wanted to sink into her, though he contented himself as best he could with the knowledge that he would be able to in time.

Distantly, he heard the front door unlock and creak open against the howling wind. His ear perked at familiar steps— and more familiar still cursing at the cold— as the door was hastily closed again.

“He must have heard us talk of him.” Aymeric teased in a tired mumble.

“Just came in? Sounds like him. I’ll let you sleep, dear one— tell him I’ll be home soon.”

“I will.” He paused, hand clenched in the pillow, nose buried into the fabric to try and chase her scent, to keep a part of her here with him. “Dream of us?”

“I always do. I love you.”

“As I love you.”

Aymeric scarcely closed the linkpearl before Estinien stepped into the bedroom. The dragoon seemed to know what was happening— Serella tapered off her aether from Aymeric slowly, gently, to avoid that awful hollow feeling that could come with severing such a connection too quickly. He settled into bed beside Aymeric with a chuckle that tapered off into a huff when he was almost immediately clung to. 

Aymeric could not help it; the last of her aether leaving him always left him needing something grounding, and if it was affection, more was the better. Regardless of how slowly she let go, there was always a bit of emptiness in the wake of her absence. Though, he supposed he felt that even when they had not done anything of the sort, whenever she was not home.

“Ella will be home soon.” He dutifully relayed her message.

“Three weeks, five days, give or take some hours.” Estinien nodded into the crook of Aymeric’s neck, sinking into him with a content sigh. “I know. I’ve been keeping track.”

The bed was not at full capacity, but it was occupied enough to not feel alone, and the two of them made that enough to drift off into gentle sleep, counting down the hours all the while.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxiv #Aymeric de Borel #Serella Arcbane #I am as ever your shield #unstoppable forces and immovable objects #tagging it lemon like it's 2006 babey \o/ #seriously tho here be aether sex which is weird but fun to write in a way I can't describe #anyway I'm off to scream into my pillow now #I hope this sparks joy!

[hinac0lada]

FINAL LULLABY

CHARACTER PAIRING: oikawa tooru x reader

WARNING: angst

NOTE: hello! this is like my first time posting without riss’ help i- 

this is alex FINALLY posting for the first time in tumblr vnfknf- anyways, hope ya’ll enjoy this angst that i made!  it is inspired by the weeknd’s song: final lullaby. the pics below serves as visuals and lyrics of the song, they are all edits by me. 

today was the day i would leave my home to further pursue my career in volleyball.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

it was the day i had to leave you behind. i was lucky enough to have your support and reassurance, but it was unfortunate that i couldn't bring you with me. but i know you had your own goals as well, and it was definitely not coming with me. i guess this was the price to pay when two star athletes date.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

before my flight, we went on a date for the last time. it was perfect— as perfect could ever be. we were laying on the grass as we watched the clouds go by, talking about our future goals when i come back, how we wanted to get married, build our house, reminiscing about embarrassing moments, like we usually do.

the sun was eventually setting, the pink, orange, purple hues dancing with the clouds, casting a golden glow upon us. i glanced at you, your smile so contagious yet full of admiration as you looked up, mesmerized by the sight of the sunset skies.

"babe, quit staring at me like that!" you said, letting out a hearty laugh, your (e/c) irises meeting with mine.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

"it's kinda hard not to stare at your beauty . . "

"tooru!"

"what? it's true!"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

time flew by and iwaizumi has picked us up to head to the airport. we arrived to our destination and went through the dreadful process of checking in.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

we halted in front of the departure gate, i wiped your tears away before kissing you good bye, cherishing what seems like our last time locking lips. after embracing iwaizumi and telling him to take care of you while i was gone, it was finally time for my leave.

"you better bring home that medal okay?!" i heard you exclaimed, i looked over my shoulder to see both of your grins, i nodded with a smile of my own before proceeding to enter the departure gates, waving farewell.

unbeknownst to me, that would be the very last encounter i had with you.

i knew we were going to part ways, but i never expected that it would be this way.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

who would've thought that i would be coming home to your grave?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

i thought to myself, memories of that day burned into my mind and played like a broken record as i looked out the window, watching the aircraft slowly descend from the sky. the plane was finally landing.

"ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Sendai International Airport. local time is 10:49 am and the temperature is 15°C. on behalf of All Nippon Airways and the cabin crew, i'd like to thank you for joining us on this trip. we are looking forward to seeing you board again in the future, have a nice day!"

and with that, i prepared to exit the plane.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

it has been a year since i knew of your passing. it was definitely hard to train, play, and face people as i was mourning your death, miles away from home. from you. and my team mates knew it all too well, and the fact that i was not there by your side, holding you as you took your last breath, made it difficult than it already was on me.

arriving to the airport where you once dropped me off, where there was once two smiles bidding me farewell, only to see one smile welcoming me back home. i hastily approached iwaizumi, engulfing him in the tightest hug i could muster.

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"welcome back, asskawa."

"still as clever with the nicknames, iwa - chan."

the long drive to the cemetery was filled with silence, i glanced down at the flowers i bought for you on my lap, the ones that you really like. i smiled at the thought of you, remembering the sparkle in your eyes when you received a bouquet of flowers from me.

"that's like the first time i saw you smile the entire day . ." iwaizumi pointed out, finally breaking the silence, i catch a glimpse of his face that was focused on the road ahead.

"those were her favorite, right?" his eyes quickly glanced down at the bouquet and then at me, before shifting back to the road.

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"yeah . . "

"well, we're here . ."

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i look out the window, we were actually here. i can't believe after a year, i get to see you. but not in the way i wanted to. i already accepted that, it took me a lot of time to heal from your passing.

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"you ready?" iwaizumi asked, patting my back as to assure me that i have his support.

"ready as i'll ever be" i replied and sighed exasperatedly, as if i was holding on to my breath. we began walking through the cemetery, passing by graves as i was on the lookout for yours.

"babe, i'm home! i'm back, and as promised, i brought you the medal." i sat down in front of your grave, bringing out the medal that i once promised to bring back to you.

"beautiful, isn't it? but you know what makes it even more beautiful? the flowers that come with it. i know how much you like these flowers so i bought you a lot of it, i hope you like it! although i bet you have a garden full of these in your paradise, take me there some time, will you?"

i said, a crooked smile crept up my face, the tears cascading down my cheeks, hearing iwaizumi's sniffling only made it worse. the pain that i've mustered all poured out at once.

it was like the calm before the storm.

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"i-i'm sorry, i know you always want us to be happy. i-it's hard, but we're getting there. i know you're happy— up there in your paradise, t-that's why i-i'll try to be happy too, because i know you want us to be."

caressing the marble gravestone, feeling the engraved words— your name, against my fingertips. the closest i can get to feeling your presence, feeling your warmth.

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"i love you so much, babe. i miss you. i miss you everyday.  i'll see you in the afterlife, then maybe someday, you'll take me to your paradise . . " i said before kissing your gravestone, before placing my forehead against it, images of you flashing and embedded onto my mind.

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your smile, your eyes, your hair, your laugh, your hugs, your kisses. your everything.  i miss everything about you, and i always will.

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things will definitely never be the same without you, but i know i'm trying.

you may have left this place, but you never left my heart, (l/n) (y/n).

#alex writes #oikawa tooru #haikyuu!! #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #idk how to use tumblr #help me #after hours #the weeknd #trashykawa #i love oikawa #xandra writings #oikawa angst #haikyuu angst #stan the weeknd #oikawa x reader