#I almost lose my sanity on this damn episode | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aricazorel · 3 years

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10. An alternate ending to an episode or scene?

Thank you for the ask! Sorry it took me a while to get to it...

This is from a meme about things you might have done differently from a movie/series/video game you like. I can't find the original meme because my timeline ate it but anyway...

This is for Mass Effect 1. Kaidan Alenko x Rebecca Shepard. 2933 words. The scene is the part of the debriefing after the Virmire mission if you choose to save Kaidan. I don't necessarily like the dialogue choices during the debrief or the conversation you can have right after. To me it didn't deal with the consequences of the choice made on Virmire very well, especially if Kaidan and Shepard were together. Here's my version:

"Why me?"

“I can’t believe Ash didn’t make. How could we just leave her down there?” Kaidan said in quiet shock during the debriefing after the Virmire mission. His words giving voice to everyone’s thoughts. While a success, that victory had come with a price. A high price.

“Williams knew the risks going in. She gave her life to save the rest of us,” Commander Rebecca Shepard said evenly, honestly. The Lt. knew what she said was true. They all did, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“Why me?” Alenko pushed, his expression one of incomprehension. Everyone knew the bomb would have gone off regardless of whether he had been saved or not. No one had questions the command decision Shepard had made on Virmire. Everyone knew the stakes and supported the call that had been made, placing no blame on their commanding officer.

“We had to leave her behind. Saren has to be stopped. At anycost,” Shepard explained, pushing aside her own regret and guilt to help her Lt. deal with his own.

“Why not her?” he asked with soulful eyes. The very eyes she had come to know so well. The ones she looked to for reassurance and sometimes guidance. Something she had never done before with anyone, not since becoming an N7. Now they looked for a reason for the outcome of the mission, someone or something to blame.

“There was no time. I couldn’t save you both.” She admitted the awful truth in a quieter tone, knowing full well the rest of the group could still hear her. This wasn’t a conversation they should have in front of others, but he needed something, and she couldn’t deny him that. “I’m sorry, Kaidan. I wish there had been another way. But there wasn’t. You know that.”

“I know. And I am grateful,” Kaidan replied, his expression softening. That did not stop him from stating the exact cause of her own guilt whether it was true or not. “But Ash died because of me. Because of us.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault,” the Commander stated firmly, in her most even command voice. Willing herself, Kaidan, and everyone else in the room to believe it. Hoping simply saying it was enough. “The only one to blame here is Saren.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m—We’ll get it done.” Kaidan resumed his professional demeanor as he swiveled in his chair back to the center of the room. It was typical Alenko behavior and totally appropriate for what they had just gone through. The minor outburst however was not characteristic of the Lt. and she was sure he would insist on forgetting about it later. Maybe even apologize for it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t unwarranted.

The rest of the debrief proceeded as all the others had except for the somber mood and the empty chair beside Kaidan. Everyone filed out of the room when it concluded except Shepard who walked over to the consoles to update the Council on current events. As she did, the N7 noted Alenko waiting near the door as she punched up the comm channel for the Council. She turned just enough to see his face, his expression stoic. But his whiskey-colored eyes longing for something. What that was she wasn’t sure and until the next part of her job was completed…

She nodded at him even though he appeared to want to say something. She turned from him before he could as the Council appeared before her. Whatever he wanted to say would have to wait. It always had to wait…

~ ~ ~

After the praise and reprimand from the Council, Shepard checked in with Pressley before descending to the crew deck, fully intending to retreat to her quarters. Of course, that had been before she’d seen Kaidan checking over the auxiliary ops panel right beside the door to her quarters. She had suspected for a long time that he checked the panel more than necessary so that he’d have a legitimate excuse to catch her attention and talk to her. Normally she did not mind it. In fact, she enjoyed their impromptu conversations. She enjoyed being around him period but right then…

The Commander paused a few feet from her quarters, staring at the dark colored metal of the doors. She closed her eyes. She could avoid it. Call everything off. No longer acknowledge the growing relationship between himself and the Lt. After Virmire she should but…

The memory of pleading whiskey brown eyes flashed in her mind. Damn it. She couldn’t leave it the way things were. He deserved more. Ash deserved more.

She opened her eyes and walked the few steps required to reach the console…and Kaidan. She stood silently beside it, waiting for him to say something. She didn’t trust herself to start the conversation, waiting to know his state of mind first.

She watched him take a breath and then wipe his brow. He slowly turned towards her as he asked, “Anything you need, Commander?”

His tone was formal, just like it had been at the beginning of their mission. Fine. She could start out that way, though she knew that’s not how this would end. But she needed to be straight with him. For both of them. For Ashley. “I wanted to see how you are dealing with Ash’s death.”

“Dealing…ma’am,” Alenko replied slowly. His tone even, professional still. Maintaining eye contact. All the signs of a good officer. But that wasn’t what she wanted but maybe that’s what he did. “Sorry for anything I said back there. Adrenaline.”

She nodded. She had expected him to apologize, to downplay what had occurred. She doubted anyone else would actually mention it either. Everything was still too fresh but this—the guilt and blame needed to be addressed before anything else happened. Before it adversely affected the mission. Before it came between them…if there was a them. “I understand. I don’t like losing people either.”

“I’ve served for years but never lost a soldier under my command. Not to hostile action anyway,” Alenko admitted. Even though he had not been directly in charge of the mission, he still outranked Ashley. He had survived while a subordinate hadn’t either because of luck or personal relations. Maybe both.

Regardless the personal question the Lt. asked next was not the one she had anticipated. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you deal with the loses on Elysium?”

It wasn’t what she wanted to talk about. It wasn’t what would help her deal with Ash’s death. Not really, but maybe it would help him. If that was the case, she would indulge his question. “It was my job to get everyone out safe. I failed. I vowed not to let that happen again. Same here. I’ll remember her, and I’ll do better for her.”

“Yeah. I guess that is all we can do. Thanks for the advice, ma’am.” He responded with respect and professionalism. She expected no less from the Lt. she had come to know and rely on. What bothered her was the fact he wasn’t questioning her further about why she had made the call. Sure. What she had said back in the conference room made sense and was true but didn’t he want to know more?

She had come to accept that Kaidan kept his emotions in check partially because he saw it as being professional. But more importantly it helped ensure his biotics remained in check. But would this really cause him to lose control?

When she didn’t move to leave, he asked, “Is there something else, Commander?”

She frowned. “Yes. I thought you might need to talk to me.”

“Isn’t that what we just did?” he asked, his tone almost sounding flippant. Maybe he was trying to lighten the mood, maybe he was trying to act normal. Either way she wasn’t buying it.

“Kaidan, that’s not what I meant,” she said as evenly as possible, dropping rank and protocol. Maybe she needed to confront what had happened more for her benefit instead of his. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t help him too.

“Then what did you mean, Commander?” the Canadian officer asked as he crossed his arms, his stance becoming silently defensive. His whiskey-colored eyes boring into her, not pleading with her like before.

He had apologized for the outburst. He had accepted her explanation to his questions. He said he understood that it was Saren to blame and not either of them. He had thanked her for sharing how she had coped with Elysium. He remained calm, rational, professional. Yet in that moment that was not what she needed.

Maybe she needed someone to feel the way she did. To question her. To not just accept her decision. To acknowledge that she had lost a friend too…

The great Commander Shepard needed more than just the acknowledgement of her subordinates, a pat on the back from her superiors, the thanks of the masses for doing her duty. Rebecca Shepard needed to know that she hadn’t crossed a line. That she hadn’t sacrificed a good soldier, a friend for selfish reasons. That she wasn’t turning into the monster she was supposed to fight.

Her confidence faltering as her Lt.’s eyes continued to bore into her, she began turning away. “I—Forget it, Kaidan. I—I won’t take up anymore of your time.”

The Commander façade she wore for others, for her own sanity sometimes, was fading quickly. She couldn’t let anyone see the cracks, to chance someone seeing what laid beneath. That she was not what everyone thought she was. She couldn’t let Kaidan see that part of her, not when he might actually blame her for Ash’s death.

Maybe she was to blame. Maybe she had been selfish. Maybe there had been a way to save Ash or a way to save them both. If she had only tried harder, if she had been quicker, smarter, more determined—

“Commander?” Alenko’s voice called out to her as she faced the door to her cabin. Was that concern she heard?

It didn’t matter. She was responsible for those under her command, and she’d just lost one more. A friend, and she wasn’t sure if it had been because of her personal relationship with a subordinate.

“I—I should leave you to—I have reports to file—I—”

“Rebecca.”

Her name. Her given name. The utterance of it was like a slap in the face. She wasn’t Rebecca to anyone on the Normandy. She was the Commander or Shepard. Only one person had called her that��

Her head turned of its own volition to the source of the voice. Whiskey brown eyes no longer bored into her. Instead, they studied her with concern and worry. She shook her head. “I can’t.”

She rushed into her quarters without further explanation. As the doors shut behind her, she stood in the middle of her room. The emotions from the Virmire mission breaking through the carefully constructed barriers she had erected. Very few times since becoming an N7 had she had those walls break but this time…This time was different. She was solely in charge of the mission, her own crew, her friends, her enemy. If Saren won, if she allowed the loses Saren inflicted on them to wear her down then it would all be for nothing.

Ash’s death would be for nothing. But did she have to die? Had it been a needed sacrifice? Was it the right choice? Was choosing who lived and died ever a right choice? He was right to blame her. It was all on her. She was the Commander. That’s all she was—

“Rebecca,” an all too familiar voice called from behind her as the doors to her cabin hissed shut.

She closed her eyes. He wasn’t supposed to be there. It was her fault. He blamed her.

“Rebecca, talk to me.”

“No.” How had he gotten in? Had he actually used the door code she’d given him? It would have been the first time then…

“Please talk to me. I’m—”

Shepard turned around, glaring at him. “How can you want to talk to me? I’m responsible for what happened! For what—For what happened to Ash! I—”

“That’s not what you said in the briefing,” Alenko said, taking a step towards her. He stood with his arms spread wide, showing he was not a threat. “You said Saren was to blame.”

“Of course I did!,” she all but screamed. “The bastard is responsible but so am I! I’m the one in command. I made the command decision that killed Ash!”

“The Geth killed Ash not you,” Alenko corrected as he bridged the remaining space between them. “Ashley would not want you to do this to yourself.”

“What does it matter? She’s gone, and she’d not coming back. What difference does it make? Why do you care?”

“Because I care about you! Because you aren’t to blame! Because you aren’t alone!” he said loudly, nearly nose to nose with her.

Shepard didn’t flinch. Instead, she stared blankly at him, saying barely above a whisper, “I’m always alone. I have to be…”

Strong arms suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into a tight embrace. A hand cradled her head as the other rested securely around her waist. A quiet voice murmured into her ear, “You are not alone. Not anymore.”

She wanted to protest, to tell him he was wrong, to order him to leave but no words came out. Instead, she went limp against him, relying totally on his strength for support. Kaidan accepted her dead weight without complaint as she began crying, her sobs muffled by his shoulder.

As Alenko held onto her tighter, he said with raw emotion, “You aren’t to blame. You were right. Saren is responsible. Ash knew what could happen. We all did. She went out the way she wanted to. With honor. Saving those she served with. Saving those she called friend…We didn’t kill her.”

Shepard threw her arms around Alenko as he sunk to the floor with her, both resting on their knees as she shook her head. “I tried…I tried to think of something. Anything. I didn’t want her to die…I—”

“I know, Rebecca. I believe you,” the Lt. soothed as he ran his hand through her red hair. “She trusted you to make the right call and you did. Remember? She said she didn’t regret a thing. You can’t either.”

She pulled at the back of his shirt as she fisted the material. “How can you believe that? I’m the Commander and she died on my watch.”

Kaidan pulled back just enough to see her face. He smiled down at her tenderly. “Because I know that you are more than the Commander. I know that you are human just like the rest of us. And I know you feel her death just like the rest of us.”

“But why—”

“Because I know the woman behind the Commander,” he said gently as he cupped her cheek. “I know Rebecca.”

“Kaidan,” was all the N7 could say as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t blame her after all. He understood what she was going through. He didn’t see her as just a soldier or commander or CO. He recognized that she was human too. That she felt the weight of every decision she made and its consequences—good or bad.

“I’m right here, Rebecca,” he soothed as he moved them to sit on the deck plates. “And I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

She held onto his shirt tightly, refusing to give up her anchor. She knew he would stay. He would always do the right thing, say the right thing, be the good man that he was. He wouldn’t judge her because of the actions of another. He understood both the burden of command and the human emotions beneath.

He understood her.

Drawing strength from Kaidan, she knew nothing could bring Ashely back. At the same time a part of her recognized that the words he had repeated back to her were also true. Neither of them was to blame and if she had made a different decision more people may have perished.

They would do better next time. They would do better for Ash. They would end Saren, and she would make sure the galaxy knew a Williams had made that victory possible. Ashley did not die in vain. She was a hero and a friend.

And for those reasons, Rebecca Shepard would continue to fight the good fight with the continued support of those she had come to call more than comrades in arms. Those that she called friends.

Why me he had asked. But it wasn’t just a question he asked in that the one instance. It was a question she asked herself every day. Even with the knowledge that Kaidan knew the real Shepard and that Ashely both knew and accepted her fate, the question remained.

Why me?

And the answer was always the same.

Because she was the only who could. But this time it would be with the knowledge she had people who believed in her not just because she was bound by duty.

Kaidan believed in her.

Ash had believed in her.

Why me?

Because she wanted to, she had a personal stake in it now. Not just because she could.

Why me?

Because she chose to. To honor those lost. To honor Ash.

#ask game #mass effect #kaidan alenko #rebecca shepard #kaidan alenko x femshep

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

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glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part five

summary: in the aftermath of hurricane agatha, the pogues are thrown into a mess none of them are ready to deal with. things that don’t exactly top sailor’s ‘fun things to do this summer’ list: surfing in the middle of a hurricane, getting punched in the face by a stupid kook, and stumbling upon a mystery that turns her and her friends into the damn scooby gang. when she said she wanted an exciting summer, she should’ve been more specific. 🙃

word count: 8.1k+ (it just keeps getting longer and longer 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect/gambling addiction, child abandonment, anxiety, self-worth issues, jj being both soft af and hot for his best friend, weed usage, underage drinking, unresolved sexual tension, sailor being thirsty, swearing, guns, fighting, blood, that one trope where two characters only call each other by their nicknames/last names until they don’t because of ~reasons~ that makes me lose my shit every time (like a lot of the obx fandom, i also headcanon that jj stands for jesse james), references to the three stooges (jj=moe, pope=larry, and john b=curly and that’s a fact lmao), to all the boys i've loved before, avengers infinity war, and david attenborough, and a line heavily inspired/influenced by taylor swift's "dress" (a song that happens to be on the playlist for this series)

a/n: we’re finally entering canon territory, y’all (with a few tweaks, of course!) but i’m determined not to make this a rehash/retelling word for word of the show ‘cause that’s just no fun, so expect smaller pieces (vignettes, i guess?) of storytelling as i expand on canon with sailor and the rest of the pogues. think of it like a mixtape of sorts, but with words instead of music if that makes sense lol. this part originally covered episodes one and two but i wrote so much that i had to split it, so we're just covering most of episode one for now (i still can't even believe how much shit actually goes down in the pilot lol). i was veryyyy excited to write the kegger at the boneyard 'cause some ~juicy~ stuff happens there lol. fun fact: the title of this part is a term used by surfers to refer to getting up at the ass crack of dawn to hit the waves. as always, this is unbetaed so any mistakes are mine. enjoy!

gif credit to @jj-maybnks

~Masterlist~

part five: dawn patrol

The next morning, Hurricane Agatha hits the island with all the force of a knockout punch; the sound of rain pounding against the roof echoes impossibly loud throughout the Chateau but Sailor’s bewildered shriek is even louder.

“You’re gonna what the what?!”

John B shrugs as the stunned redhead, lounging on the couch, looks away from watching the storm and fixes him with a wide-eyed stare.

“I’m gonna surf the surge.”

“Hell yeah, bro!” JJ yells from his spot as her footrest, punching his fist in the air and she sends him an exasperated look, both at his enthusiastic encouragement of John B’s downright moronic idea and the fact that she already misses the feeling of his thumb drawing circles on her bare ankle.

“Are you two insane?”

“Possibly.” John B states, grinning when JJ follows that up with, “Absolutely.” The blond boy pushes Sailor’s legs off his lap as he stands which earns him another displeased scowl from the redhead. “Come on, Sail. Live a little.”

“Oh, I’ll live alright, but you idiots won’t,” She takes his offered hand, letting him pull her to her feet and then down the hall after John B as she continues, “because this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”

“See, this is why we keep you around,” He replies, laughing when she dodges his attempt to ruffle her hair and dashes forward to beat him to the spare room. “We do something stupid, you and Kie read us the riot act. It’s tradition.”

Sailor grabs her long-sleeved rash vest -if she’s going to sit on the beach to keep an eye on these fools in the middle of a damn hurricane, at least she’ll wear something that offers a little bit of warmth- and heads to the bathroom to change. “Yeah, and then I’m there to patch you up when you inevitably hurt yourselves.”

“Can’t help that you have that healing touch.” His cheeky response floats through the closed door and she catches herself smiling -wide and just a little bit sappy- in the mirror.

After a quick detour to pick up Pope, who’s already drenched from sneaking out his window, the pogues (sans Kiara who never answered John B’s text in the group chat and, knowing her parents, was probably on hurricane lockdown) head to the beach, where the rugged gray surf hammers against the shore with unrelenting brutality. Sailor trails behind the others as they grab their boards and make a break for the water, blatantly ignoring the barriers that read ‘beach closed’ in large, impossible to miss letters. A few hundred feet down the coast, she can barely make out The Sandbar all boarded up for the storm and she thinks of her mother, wondering if she's riding it out inside or at home; either way Carmen's all alone and Sailor's stomach twists with guilt, both for letting her phone battery die so she didn't have to answer her calls and for leaving in the first place, even though it was the right thing to do for her damn sanity.

“These signs are here for a reason, guys!” She calls over the howling wind, squinting through the rain at the rough waves with her hands tapping uneasily against her thighs. Watching John B run into the ocean with reckless abandon (Pope following with a little more caution, thankfully) immediately puts her anxiety on edge so she sits down heavily on the wet sand, wrapping her arms around the knees pulled to her chest and looks up at the blond boy who stayed behind. “Aren’t you gonna join the other stooges?”

JJ shrugs at her question, glancing out toward their friends before dropping his board to the ground and taking a seat behind the trembling girl, his chest to her back. “This one can’t just leave you hanging out here all alone, lookin’ all sad and shit. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, J.” She smirks and scoots back in the sand, lips curling into a full-fledged smile when he lifts his arms to drape them over her shoulders. As he tucks her securely against his front, the warmth of his body helps ward off the biting chill of the rain, and so does the fact that he knows her so well, that he knows this is exactly what she needs to help calm the panicking butterflies in her stomach.

He leans close, lips brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispers his next words like a secret, low and just for her even when there’s no one around to hear them. “Trust me, Sail, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

She suddenly finds those butterflies in her stomach fluttering for a whole different reason.

The Chateau sits in complete darkness, the power having been knocked out since they returned from dropping Pope off at his house that afternoon. Sailor thinks it’s about ten at night as she lies on her back on the mattress of the sleeper sofa, listening to the wind rip through the trees outside with Binx curled up at her feet. The spare room was way too hot without a working fan, even after she braided her hair off to the side and changed into a crop top and shorts, so she and JJ had returned to the living room where it was cooler, if only by a little bit.

John B has already retreated to his room for the night; he’d been acting quieter than usual since their little adventure at the beach but between a lantern-lit dinner of semi-stale cereal and passing a joint around, she never got the chance to ask if he was okay before he made his escape. JJ lies beside her with his limbs all askew and from the slow rise and fall of his bare chest she’s 99% sure he’s out like a light until, out of the blue, he mutters into the stagnant air, “Can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”

She blinks heavily -that weed must’ve hit her harder than she thought because she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring- when he lazily turns his head to stare back, a halcyon grin on his face and in the dark, his pupils are blown so wide she can barely see the blue of his irises. Her hand itches with a longing to sweep that one stubborn strand of hair away from his forehead but instead she blindly slides it to the left until she finds his and holds on tight; his fingers automatically lace with hers even as the space between his eyebrows furrows and the smile falls from his lips.

“Sail?”

“I don’t think my dad’s ever coming back.” The redhead’s mouth blurts before her brain can catch up, heavy words lingering like a storm cloud ready to downpour. The thought had been weighing on her heart for a while now, from when she’d first suspected it two months ago, and it feels bittersweet to finally admit it out loud, even when she hadn’t planned doing it.

Her bedmate is silent for a long time as he looks at her through the shadows and she focuses on the touch of his palm against hers instead of the awful mounting pressure behind her eyes -hadn’t she promised herself she was done crying over her dad?- until he asks quietly, “Why? I mean, good riddance 'cause he's kind of the worst, but why?"

“A feeling,” She murmurs around the sudden lump in her throat, biting the inside of her lip hard enough that she tastes the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. “He...he usually comes back after a month or two but this time it’s been almost five.” A bitter laugh escapes from her chest and she shakes her head. “I guess he finally decided he’s done dealing with my worthless ass.”

JJ’s eyes flash like lightning as he rolls over to face her, the hand not entwined with hers reaching up to cup her cheek. “Sail, shut up. Don’t you dare say that.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s true,” She says sharply, words acerbic and biting and full of a self-hatred that’s been poisoning her heart ever since she was old enough -eight and far, far too young- to discern the way her dad’s love for her was fickle at best, non-existent at worst. “I could’ve been a better daughter- a perfect daughter- and he might still be here and my mom wouldn't hate me. I should’ve tried harder-”

“Jesus Christ, Sailor!” He interrupts, calloused yet gentle thumb wiping away the tears she just now registers sliding down her cheeks and the shock of hearing her full name come from his mouth makes the rest of her vitriolic thoughts fly out the window. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

The image of him blurs through the darkness in shades of black and she closes her eyes, jaw clenched in an attempt to quell the tremble of her lip as he goes on in his low, soft voice, “You should’ve tried harder to do what, huh? What could you have possibly done better?”

She’s quiet for a long time, so long that her tears run dry and all that remains is smeared salt on her skin because she doesn’t have an answer. What could she have done? That terrible thought in her mind rears it’s ugly head again, the one that tells her she’s not good enough, that everything’s her fault because she doesn’t do enough, but when she asks it what more she can do, there’s no reply. There never is.

“Hey, look at me.” She hears the rustling of sheets and feels his fingers slip from hers before they come to rest on her cheek, both hands now cradling her face; she opens her eyes to find him hovering over her and the sheer lack of distance between them makes her heart skip a beat. “You...”

“What about me?” Her voice cracks as she speaks and in a mirror of her from earlier, JJ shakes his head, causing that stubborn strand of hair to once again fall into his eyes.

“I wish you’d see yourself the way I do.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “And how do you see me?”

“Fucking amazing.” He says simply and in the dark, she can barely see the flush slowly starting to creep up his neck. “Smart, brave, and loyal as hell. A beautiful badass who doesn’t take shit from anybody. A girl who listens when someone needs to be heard.”

The redhead stares up at him with wide green eyes as he goes on and on, listing all these wonderful little things that her traitorous mind has a hard time processing, let alone believing; he really thinks about her like this? “You care so damn much,” “You’re kind but not afraid speak out,” “You’re the one I trust the most.”

Her hand slowly releases its tight grip on the sheets and slides up his bare arm, feeling the heat of his skin under her palm as she touches his face, not trusting herself to speak because she’s so afraid of saying something dumb or stupid and ruining everything ('like I always do,' her mind echoes).

“You’re my best friend, Sailor, and yeah, you’re not perfect. You drink and you smoke weed and you don’t get straight As in school but fuck, you’re real and so not worthless.” He says each word with such conviction that its impossible not to believe him, as much as her brain screams at her not to. “And I want you to know that what your parents think of you doesn't matter at all, got it?"

Without warning, she flings her arms around his neck and JJ loses his balance, falling onto her with a soft oof of surprise but Sailor doesn’t even feel the extra weight as she rests her face against his shoulder and finally finds her voice. “Thank you.”

He takes her with him when he rolls onto his side, arms wrapped tight around her waist and nose buried in her messy braid. “Just...trying to do the right thing, I guess. For once.”

She pulls back at his words, then leans forward and slowly presses her lips to his flushed cheek, just missing the corner of his mouth. She lets them linger for a beat longer than necessary before leaning back -not too far, just enough- and looking him in the eye. “Thank you, Jesse.”

He usually hates being called by his first name (she found that out pretty quickly into their friendship, “never call me Jesse” being one of the first things he ever said to her) but he just looks at her with a soft, endearing smile on his face as he leans back onto the bed, once again bringing her with him. “Promise me something, Sail?”

She glances up at him from his shoulder and meets his eyes. “Yeah?”

His fingers tuck an escaped red curl behind her ear. “Just...be you. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.”

She wishes it were that easy, that she could just step inside her mind and flip a switch and she could stop all those thoughts that’ve plagued her for years but it’s not. It’s gonna take time -time and a lot of patience and maybe even a miracle- but damn it, she’s gonna give it her all, not just for herself but for him and the rest of the pogues, too, the best friends she's ever had, so she nods and settles back down at his side. “I’ll try my best, J.”

“I know you will.”

"Sail, you're the best swimmer out of all of us. Think you can dive down there and check it out?"

The redhead peers over the edge of the HMS Pogue and into the water, where the murky shape of the sunken Grady-White sits thirty feet down on the bottom of the marsh, then nods at the rest of the pogues, an excited grin on her face.

"No problem," She answers John B, hopping up onto the very tip of the boat's bow with practiced ease before diving headfirst into the water to JJ's yell of "diver down!" It's dirtier than usual because of the hurricane but she doesn't let that stop her as she swims down and down until she reaches the top of the boat and pulls herself the rest of the way onto the deck, carefully scanning the area for...fuck. Honestly, she's got absolutely no clue what she's looking for but she assumes she'll know when she sees it.

'It' turns out to be a motel key, resting all alone on the floor by the steering wheel and she quickly reaches out to snatch it, sliding the silver key ring around her finger securely. When she pushes off toward the surface, she leaves the ghostly Grady-White behind with more questions than answers.

The rest of her friends are lined up in a row along the boat's railing, all staring at her with near identical expressions of anticipation as she breaks through the water and holds the key aloft with a triumphant smile.

"The Summer Winds Motel called, they want their key back!"

A little later that evening, Sailor would really regret finding that damn key but right now, she's having a great time dancing at the Boneyard with Kiara at the traditional post-hurricane kegger, second refill of beer in hand, spiked with Fireball from the flask tucked in her back pocket. To her, dancing's a lot like surfing -steady feet, swiveling hips, snapping shoulders- and she thinks that might be the reason she's so bad at it, anticipating the fluidity of water instead of the solidness of dry land. Or it could be that she just doesn't have rhythm when she's a little buzzed. That works, too.

"Ow, Sail!" Kiara winces as the redhead steps on her foot again, rolling her eyes fondly when she throws her head back with a loud, tipsy giggle.

"My bad, Kie!" She twirls in the sand, hair dancing around her shoulders like fire, and finds herself spinning right into a herd of dancing tourons, all too drunk to care that she's spilling her beer all over their feet. Large, olive-skinned hands grab her waist to spin her again and she laughs, smiling over her shoulder at a cute dark-haired touron as he slides one palm over to settle against the bare skin of her lower back. She pushes one hand on his shoulder with just enough resistance that he doesn't get too close into her personal space as he leans in to speak in a low Southern drawl, brown eyes turned a pretty bronze in the glow of the nearby bonfire.

"This probably isn't the best thing to say to a beautiful girl but you kind of dance like a giraffe."

Sailor bursts out laughing at that. "Hey, I think giraffes are very elegant creatures so I'll take that as a compliment!"

The boy grins and she smiles, too, letting him take her free hand and pull her into the throng of dancing bodies. He's almost as bad a dancer as she is but he's fun to talk to and together they gleefully show off their worst moves until their feet hurt -she's lost count of how many times she stepped on his toes- and her solo cup is empty. "Come on," She says and this time, she's the one to grab his hand and lead him over to the closest keg, where John B's dishing out beer with an expert flourish.

"'Sup, Sail," He lifts his chin in greeting as he fills her cup, smirking when she immediately pulls out her flask and adds a long pour of Fireball on top. "Who's your friend?"

"JB, this is Adam, he's visiting from Tennessee. Adam, meet John B, one of my best friends and a total moron," She makes quick introductions, smiling into her drink as he scowls and playfully sprays some beer at her feet before filling another cup and holding it out to the other boy with a jab at her expense.

"Be careful around her, man. She's a handful."

The touron accepts the drink with a shrug and a quick wink in her direction. "Good thing I happen to like 'em a little crazy."

Ugh. More than a little miffed at that, she rolls her eyes and takes a long sip of beer to hide her annoyance when Adam laughs and slings his arm around her shoulders. Calling her a giraffe was actually kind of cute in a very weird, endearing way but he instantly lost whatever points he had with her the second that 'c' word came out of his pretty mouth. She glances around the Boneyard while the boys start talking about surfing (she scoffs to herself, what does a farm kid from Tennessee know about that?), scanning the crowd for the rest of her friends and a chance to ditch him. Kiara's sitting on a big piece of driftwood, chatting up a stunning, deeply tan girl with glossy black hair -she waves when their eyes meet and shoots Sailor a cheeky grin before returning to her conversation- while the ever awkward Pope seems to be stuck in the middle of one of his rambles about autopsies as he stands around the fire, the willowy blonde beside him looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. She'd deliberately lost track of JJ a while ago, after she watched him getting a little too close to a tiny brunette, his hand low on her back as she passed him a drink and ran her fingers up his bare arm, coaxing that killer smile of his onto his face (that girl may have gotten his smile but Sailor got his eyes and they watched her until she pointedly turned away).

Honestly, she's a bit -okay, a lot- peeved. Here she is, thinking that they're the closest they've ever been before (they've always been close, ever since that day in sixth grade, but this is a whole different kind of close), and just when she feels like she may finally be ready to admit some things, some feelings, he's off doing who knows what with another girl; to be fair, she's off with another guy that she'd, until a minute ago, fully planned on kissing, but that's only because of him! Him and some weird need she has to keep him looking at her, to make him jealous -she shakes her head and takes another swig of her whiskey-spiked beer. Nope, nope, not gonna think about that.

Poor Pope looks like he's really struggling so Sailor pushes all thoughts of her blond best friend from her mind and goes to rescue him, ducking out from under Adam's sweaty arm and walking away without a backwards glance, ignoring the confusion in his voice as he calls her name. She pushes through the crowd to her friend and steps right in front of the girl he's trying to talk to, grabbing his hand with her free one.

"Come dance with me?"

The smile of pure relief that breaks out over his face makes her own widen as he lets her pull him back through the mass of bodies to a less-crowded part of the make-shift dance floor, the tension bleeding out of his hunched shoulders with every step.

"You're an angel, Sailor."

She laughs and wraps her arm around his shoulders, leading him in a carefree twirl across the cool sand. "Tell me something I don't know."

Like a leaf caught up in a whirlwind, he's helpless to resist her infectious joy as they dance, grinning like fools and poking fun at each other; for a while, the redhead tries to forget about stupid, clueless boys and focuses on Pope who, while still a clueless boy, doesn't expect anything from her but pure, unconditional friendship that she's all too willing to give (although she did have a teensy little crush on him when they first became friends, she got over it pretty fast the second he started talking about the bodily functions of dead bodies in explicit detail). She shares her drink with him, giggling at the way his face morphs from curiosity to disgust to delight at the taste of her cinnamon beer concoction and lets him down the rest while she drinks straight from the flask that she pulls from her back pocket.

"You've got a shadow." Pope says, slightly nodding his chin over her shoulder and she takes his hand again, slowly spinning herself under his arm to take a quick glance, rolling her eyes when she spots Adam staring at her from the edge of the crowd. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately. Thought he was cute, then he called me crazy." She tucks the whiskey away with a shrug at her friend's sympathetic wince, then steps closer to him and raises a conspiratorial eyebrow. "Wanna help me tell him to take a long walk off a short cliff?"

"Uh-"

"I think I can help with that," A familiar voice cuts off Pope's reply as JJ suddenly appears at her side, slipping his hand into her back pocket to spin her right into the circle of his arms before he plucks the flask from the other and takes a big sip in one smooth kinda sexy move. "Straight Fireball? Damn, Sail."

The redhead carefully schools her features into a blank mask but her body has other ideas, one hand instantly settling on his chest like it's second nature and her face flushing from more than just the alcohol as she casually replies, "You know I like things a little spicy." Completely aware of the way he's watching her every move, she snatches the whiskey back and downs the little bit that's left, trying and failing to ignore the thrill that shoots through her at those bright blue eyes of his darkening when her tongue darts out to lick her lips. Pope rolls his eyes at them both before muttering a quick 'see ya' and hastily melting back into the crowd.

"So, who're we telling to fuck off?" His voice is just a little strained and she feels her cool facade start to crack as she scowls, subtly tilts her head toward where Adam's still staring at her with an expression that looks like he ate a sour lemon. JJ spins her around to take a very conspicuous peek and her mouth curls into a grin, mask breaking completely when he shoots the touron a glare that screams 'try me, I dare you'; the heat from his hand still in her pocket burns as he leans in until his forehead rests on hers. "Let's give him a show."

Sailor hums and pretends to mull it over even as she coyly snakes her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, the harder panes of his body sliding almost sinfully against her softer curves as they sway together, "I don't know, you looked pretty cozy with that other girl earlier..." Is it kind of petty to bring it up? Yes, yes it is, but she can't resist toying with him like he did to her, just as she can't help the breathless gasp that escapes her lips when his fingers press hard into the toned flesh of her ass through her shorts.

"Why, Flynn, are you jealous?"

"Please, I saw that glare you gave him. If anyone's jealous, it's you, Maybank." She fires back while carding both hands through his hair and the pure gratification she feels at his slight shiver is nothing short of euphoric. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely takes notice of the frown Adam sends their way before he turns and stalks off toward the other side of the beach; honestly, she's so caught up in JJ and everything about him -the slow swing of his hips, the hands burning hot against the strip of her back exposed by her crop top, the darkened look in those ocean eyes- that she'd completely forgotten about the touron she danced with earlier in an effort to forget the boy she's dancing with now. She should've known it wouldn't have worked: Sailor could never forget JJ, no matter how hard she tries. He's like a permanent mark on her, a tattoo inked in gold, a beautiful, wonderous scar that she never wants to fade away.

"Seems like we scared him off so I don't have to worry about that anymore." His flushed face is so close she can feel his breath on her lips as he speaks and her eyes quickly flick down to his mouth on their own accord.

"And what about me?" She asks, twirling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, heart beating fast in anticipation as he smirks wickedly at the way her own face turns cherry red.

"Sail, babe, you don't have to worry about a damn thing."

All one of them has to do is tilt their head and everything will fall into place and she can once again know what it's like to kiss him-

"Let it go, Topper!" A sudden, annoyed shout breaks the two apart before they can close that final distance (Sailor's not sure who would've made the first move and she's both relieved and disappointed they won't get to find out), turning away from each other in tandem toward the gathering mass of bodies chanting 'fight, fight!' at the shoreline.

"JB, he's not worth it!" At the sound of Kiara's voice, they take off running across the sand and shove their way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Topper Thornton in all his frat boy glory get absolutely slammed with a hard punch to the jaw, courtesy of John B. The kook barely hits the ground before he's back on his feet and lunging forward to tackle him into the water, landing a hit of his own square in the eye.

"What the hell happened?" Sailor grabs Kiara's elbow and the dark haired girl looks at her with wide eyes as the boys continue to roll around, exchanging brutal blows while a stunned Pope watches from her other side.

"I don't even know, they just started wailing on each other!"

JJ stands silent to Sailor's right, jaw clenched and hands curled into fists as he stares at the brawl and she reaches over to wrap her fingers around his wrist, thumb calmly running circles on his skin.

"Top, seriously! Stop it!" Sarah Cameron stands in the sand just before the crashing waves, yelling furiously at her boyfriend and throwing her arms in the air when he ignores her. "What is wrong with you?"

The moment Topper lands three punches in a row on John B's battered face, Sailor decides she's seen enough. She rushes forward without thinking to grab the blond boy's arm, pulling as hard as she can in an attempt to get him off her friend and barely has time to register what's happening when the fist he was aiming at John B suddenly swings at her. It connects solidly with her left cheek and makes her stumble back, her hand flying to her throbbing face before she goes down hard onto her butt in the surf.

"What the fuck, Thornton?"

"Did you just punch a girl?"

"Ohhhh shit!"

A cacophony of voices yells from the shore as the kook boy stares down at her, momentarily stunned when he realizes who exactly he hit, and it gives John B an opening to wrestle him back into the water and land a solid punch right to his nose. Everything happens so fast after that that the redhead, still reeling in a wide-eyed daze, has a little trouble keeping up. First, Kiara and Pope splash through the waves to her side, kneeling down to help her to her feet with their arms around her waist. Second, Topper gains the upper hand and straight up tries to drown John B, holding his head under the water while Sarah screams at him to stop. And third, JJ -reckless, bold, protective JJ- pulls out that damn stolen gun, effectively bringing the whole mess to a grinding halt when he stalks forward and presses the barrel to the side of Topper's head.

"Your move, broski." He threatens and the beach is so quiet everyone can hear the click of the safety being switched off. The kook slowly raises his hands in the air and John B emerges from the water, stumbling forward onto his hands and knees with a horrible wet cough.

It's all too much for Sailor's poor tipsy self to take. The world spins beneath her feet as her head starts to pound and her shaking fingers fail to find purchase on Kiara's and Pope's shoulders.

"Guys, I don't feel so good," She manages to whisper and their looks of concern (the former) and panic (the latter) are the last thing she sees before her legs give out and everything goes black.

The first thing she registers is the pain that radiates from the left side of her face, her whole head throbbing with every beat of her heart and the sound of loud whispering right by her ear isn't helping at all.

"That's the best you can do, J? Seriously?"

"The power's out! I can't exactly pull ice out of my ass, Kie."

Something semi-cold gently rests against her cheek and she audibly sighs at the little bit of relief she feels, her hand sluggishly rising to hold it a little closer as she mumbles, "I wouldn't want your ass ice anyway." At least she tries to: her mouth feels like it's full of cotton and she's pretty sure the only thing that comes out is unintelligible gibberish.

Sailor opens her eyes and finds herself lying on her back on the sleeper sofa at the Chateau, a passed out John B to her right. Pope sits on the edge of the mattress by his side, holding a beer bottle to his friend's black eye and he sends her a relieved smile when he notices she's awake.

"There she is," JJ says from her other side and she turns to face him, not at all surprised to find him already looking at her, and the unabashed concern in his eyes sends a golden warmth through her whole body. Her fingers slip down the hand that's still holding the bottle to her cheek so she can run her thumb over the delicate bones in his wrist in a silent thank you.

A different, softer hand rests on her knee and she tears her gaze away from his face to smile at Kiara as she says, "Good to see you're okay, Sail."

The redhead sinks back into the pillow in embarrassment and covers her eyes with her free hand. God, she really passed out, didn't she? She passed out after taking one lousy punch to the face by a fucking kook, no less. How completely mortifying. She swallows thickly and sounds like a chain smoker when she says, "I'm so sorry, guys. I'm a total idiot."

The other three conscious pogues start protesting all at once -apparently there's many, many, different ways to say she's not an idiot- and the resulting volume of their combined voices is enough to make her headache even worse. She sits up and scoots back until she's propped against the couch and sets the now warm beer on the side table before massaging both of her temples.

"Will you please shut up, I can feel my brain beating in my skull."

For a second, there's wonderful, blissful silence and then:

"Holy shit, thank you," A groggy voice says to her right and she turns to watch a bleary-eyed John B claw his way back to consciousness. "You guys are fucking loud."

"He lives!" JJ shouts, ignoring the four glares sent his way and reaching over to clap his hand against the brunet boy's shoulder. "Welcome back, dude."

"Ugh," He suddenly rolls onto his stomach -Pope deftly catching the bottle when it nearly falls from the bed- and his muffled voice floats out from the pillow he shoves his head under like an ostrich in the sand. "Knock me back out."

"Aww, poor baby." Sailor gives his back a sympathetic pat and chuckles softly when he blindly feels around for her arm, pushing it away with another deep groan and a 'fuck off, Sail' that lacks any type of venom.

"Okay, now that you're both kind of conscious, let's agree that neither of you will ever fucking do that again. Got it?" Kiara addresses John B and Sailor as she stands from the bed and crosses her arms, fixing the latter with a piercing look that makes her feel like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar; she opens her mouth to defend herself but before she can say anything, Kiara turns her furious gaze to JJ and points an accusing finger at his face. "And you! What the hell were you thinking pulling that damn gun out, huh?"

"Jesus Christ, Kie!" He suddenly rockets to his feet and throws his hands in the air. "Sail got socked in the face and JB was getting fucking drowned, I wasn't really thinking much at all!”

The dark haired girl can't seemed to think of a response to that and looks away, staring at the floor with her jaw clenched as Pope, ever the mediator, rises to his feet, too, and rounds the bed to step between them placatingly.

"Let's just drop it for tonight, okay? They need to rest." He says, nodding toward the two still on the bed before wrapping his hand around Kiara's elbow and turning her toward the front door. She immediately pulls her arm from his grasp but still nods in agreement, the hard look in her eyes softening when she glances at her injured friends.

"Yeah, okay." She says and glances down at her watch, wincing when she catches sight of the time. "My parents'll kill me if I'm not home soon, anyway."

"Come on, I'll take you guys home." JJ says with a conciliatory look in her direction as Pope tosses him the Volkswagen's keys from his pocket and when she nods back, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, Sailor knows that all is forgiven, at least for now.

"Are you sure you're good to drive?" She asks and immediately rolls her eyes at his sarcastic reply of "Yes, Mom," and the obnoxious wink he shoots her.

The trio leaves after a quick round of goodbyes and John B waits until he hears the sound of his van driving away before finally emerging from under the pillow and rolling onto his back.

"Sensing the immediate danger has passed, the ostrich cautiously pulls its head out from the sand..." She says in her best David Attenborough impression, laughing when he tosses the pillow at her head with an amused grin.

"Ha ha. I was trying to avoid getting a Kie lecture," He explains, running both hands down his face with a heavy sigh. "It feels like my head's gonna explode."

"You and me both, dude." She carefully probes at her swollen cheek and is more than a little surprised to feel the beginnings of a scab forming near her eye. She knew Topper landed a solid punch but she didn't realize how solid that hit was until now as she catches sight of the tiny bit of drying blood left behind on her fingertips.

"That looks like it hurts. You okay?" John B asks and she looks up from wiping her hand clean on her shorts, stiff from dried saltwater, with a wrinkle of her freckled nose.

"I'm alright. How about you? No offense but your eye looks like shit."

"I'll live." He answers with a shrug as he pulls himself upright on the mattress and leans his head against the back of the couch. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

He sluggishly turns his head to look Sailor in the eye and shrugs again. "For trying to help me out. Sorry I got you punched."

She smirks and reaches over to give his hand a brief, friendly squeeze as she replies, "It's not your fault I got myself punched. I'm sorry your ass almost drowned."

He snorts at that and she's relieved to hear it, knowing that he can still joke around and he's not, like, completely traumatized or something. Poor guy's already got enough to deal with without adding a mental breakdown to the list. She swings her legs over the edge of the mattress and slowly stands before taking a tentative step forward; when her knees hold and she doesn't fall flat on her face, she makes her way to his side and holds both hands out to him with a small, lighthearted smile.

"Yeah, you're delirious. Near death experiences do that to you." She says, helping him to his feet and, after looping his arm over her shoulders and sliding hers around his waist, the two teenagers carefully shuffle down the hall in the dim light of the emergency lantern on the kitchen table to his room, where she unceremoniously dumps him onto his bed. "Sleep it off. And for the love of God, please change. You smell terrible."

She goes to leave as he laughs again, tugging his shirt off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes near the closet before saying, "Hey, Sailor?"

The redhead pauses with one foot in the hall and leans against the doorframe. "Yeah?"

"You know you're a badass, right?"

She laughs and sends him a wink but her heart is oh so light as she turns and heads to the spare room, calling back over her shoulder, "Nice to see someone acknowledge it. Now go to bed!"

The sound of the Chateau's front door opening and closing startles Sailor awake and she blinks heavily, wondering when exactly she'd fallen asleep. Last thing she remembers she was staring out at the fireflies through the open window as she steadily ran her hand down the length of Binx's back and their ethereal glow, combined with the breeze dancing around her shoulders, must've pulled her right under. Down the hall, she hears a loud thump, followed by JJ cursing as he runs into something and she giggles to herself, rolling onto her side to face the hall. He appears in the darkened doorway a minute later, rubbing his knee with a scowl on his face and she laughs louder at his quiet, venomous hiss of "fuck that fucking chair."

"Rude. It's not the chair's fault you always run into it." She teases and he shoots her a flat, unamused look before turning to glance down the hall toward John B's room, his fingers holding tight to the door frame.

"He's okay, you know. Told him to get some sleep." His head swings to face her when she speaks with soft words and even in the dark, she can see the way his tense shoulders slowly relax and his hand loosens, falling back to his side as he nods, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"And you?" He asks, his eyes never wavering from hers as he kicks his boots off and pulls his shirt over his head; the sight of his messy hair and the muscles in his arms make it a little hard for Sailor to breathe, the gentle wind she once thought of as cool now doing nothing to help calm her flushed skin when she scoots over in bed to give him room to lie down next to her. Binx looks as disgruntled as a cat can look as he loses his comfy spot and jumps down from the bed, only to immediately leap onto the windowsill and stretch out.

"What about me?"

JJ rolls over to face her, reaching one hand up to cup her injured face and runs his calloused thumb under the cut on her cheekbone. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, she shifts closer and lays her head on his outstretched arm, covering his hand with her own and effortlessly fitting her fingers into the spaces between his. "I'm fine. Even better, now."

He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Good, 'cause I don't know what I'd do if you weren't."

When those pesky butterflies come raging back with a vengeance, she realizes she's fighting a battle she hopes to lose.

The sound of a conversation in the kitchen, low voices drifting through the closed door of the guest room wakes Sailor early the next morning. Sunlight filters in through the windows and she squeezes one eye shut against the painful brightness, the other still squished into JJ's shoulder. His arm is a welcome weight slung over her hip and his deep, even breaths are soft against her forehead as he sleeps on, dead to the voices down the hall. With the corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile, she smooths his fine blond hair away from his face and runs her fingers along his jawline before carefully sliding out from under his arm and quietly heading toward the kitchen.

Pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, she rounds the corner and stops short when she catches sight of the person standing by the table, her cheerful 'good morning' getting stuck on her tongue; she was expecting Pope and Kiara, not the goddamn sheriff! Shooting John B a wide-eyed look that makes him shake his head (what the fuck did that even mean?!), the redhead forces a smile and hastily offers her a wave.

"Uh, good morning, Sheriff. Sorry to interrupt, just, uh, grabbing some water."

She just nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the brunet boy and Sailor breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. Holy shit, is that woman scary. She heads to the sink and keeps one ear on the conversation as she quickly fills a glass with water and pops two aspirin, the headache from last night made even worse by the addition of a whiskey hangover.

"I didn't realize you had company, John B. Wild night?" The sheriff asks and Sailor meets her friend's eyes again, her anxiety rising when she sees his thinly veiled panic. Her back to Peterkin, she silently implores him to say something, anything -hell, she even tries to subtly mime surfing with her hands to help him out- but he stays silent, so she gathers her courage, plasters a smile on her face, and twirls to face her.

"Busy day, actually. We went surfing all day after cleaning up the yard." She says, jerking her thumb toward the heap of broken branches piled by the fire pit visible through the living room window; when the sheriff turns to look, she quickly elbows John B in the side, ignoring his huff of surprise as she nods her head in her direction.

"Yeah, surfing! All day." He blurts out, sending Sailor a lukewarm glare when she quickly mouths 'what the fuck was that?' before they both straighten up and spin back to the older woman just as she turns to face them again.

"Right." Peterkin hums and arches one eyebrow as she glances back and forth between the two teenagers. "Now tell me, how'd you both get those bruises? They look pretty painful."

"Oh, this?" Sailor asks, pointing at her cheek with a casual shrug, "I tried to hang ten and bit it pretty hard. My board caught me right in the face."

Peterkin looks at her for a beat longer than normal and the redhead does her best to keep her expression neutral as her palms start to sweat. "Surfing, really? Thought you were pretty experienced in that department."

John B adds, offering some much needed back up, "Even the pros wipe out every once in awhile, you know?" He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. "My board got me good, too."

"Yeah, it just was not our day," She says with a nervous chuckle, refilling her water and slowly starting to back out of the kitchen, pretending she doesn't see the dismayed look her friend sends her way; her anxiety can't take another second of the sheriff's piercing gaze and she needs to get away fast, lest she start recounting every single second of their activities both legal and not so legal- from yesterday in explicit detail. "And I'm still pretty tired so I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit. Nice talking to you, Sheriff."

After disappearing around the corner before either of them can reply, she creeps down the hallway, keeping her footfalls as light as she can, and she's so focused on trying to listen in on what Peterkin's saying that she runs smack into JJ, standing in the doorway of the spare room. His arm instantly darts out to wrap around her waist and pull her close, keeping her from falling right on her butt as he says, "There you are-"

"Shhh!" Sailor hisses quietly, covering his mouth with her hand, "The damn sheriff is here!"

He mumbles something into her palm but she she holds a finger to her lips, pushing him back into the room and softly closing the door behind them before pressing her ear against it and dropping her hand from his face. He mirrors her position with a question clear as day in his wide eyes, 'what the fuck?', arm still looped around her lower back.

"She's grilling him about yesterday," She says simply, then turns her attention back to the faint voices floating through the door. The duo listens in silence, trying and failing to discern what's being said until they hear the sound of the sheriff's boots on the front porch and her squad car tires crunching through the gravel as she drives away and they exchange a worried look. JJ had it right: what the fuck, indeed.

"Holy shit, guys," John B's voice suddenly says from the hallway. The door opens before they have time to back away and it sends them sprawling to the floor in a twisted pile of limbs; the brunet boy -who'd usually find something like that hilarious- barely reacts to their position and sends them both a tense frown, his next words dropping like a damn anchor in the marsh.

"We need to go check out that Grady-White again, and fast."

Sailor groans and lets her head fall back onto the floor with a thunk. "Here we go."

let me know what you think! fun fact: ostriches actually do put their heads in the sand, but it's not because they sense danger. female ostriches bury their eggs to keep them safe from predators and they'll occasionally stick their head into the sand to check on them and give 'em a lil turn 😊

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @jiaraendgame @hmsjiara @maysbanks @alexa-playafricabytoto @sunflowerbecca @obxlife @obx-adventures @sexualparkour @coltonparayyko @miawantsapuppy

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maybankiara · 4 years

Text

personally, the only characters in obx i find interesting are jj, pope, rafe, ward, and wheezie. idk if this is an unpopular opinion or nah, but i honestly find it very hard to even give a damn about what happens to the other characters.

and, while that might be just me, i don’t think other characters are as well-written as these. that’s one of the most important things for me. if they don’t seem real, if they’re too shallow or too cliche, i’ll get bored.

(this ended up getting lengthier than intended, so i’ll just put everything under the cut.)

jj: he starts off being the usual sidekick, the jester, comic relief, almost. he reminds me a lot of stiles stilinski in teen wolf, and that’s great. stiles is a character that starts off the same but then as you get more info on him, it gets better. same happens with jj. he gets more interesting as the narrative unveils more about his home life, about his desperation for being loved and accepted and not seen as all the insults his dad throws at him. he’s unpredictable, but he’s loyal, and he’s character that has clear motivations and needs.

pope: what i love so much about pope is his academic side story. he’s driven and his goal is very different to other characters’, and his narrative of losing his marbles is absolutely brilliant. you see the cracks in the perfect facade from the very beginning, and his struggle to live both in the world of adventures and the world where he “has a future” is super interesting. just like jj, you know exactly what motivates him and he has his own side story. the end of the season, where he’s sacrificed everything for nothing? poetic cinema. i can’t wait to see where he ends up being mentally in season 2.

rafe: look, at first glance, rafe might be the typical “abused and neglected kid turned evil” but that’s...just not it. rafe’s a coke addict and he’s constantly trying to prove himself, but as things keep taking a turn for the worse, so does rafe’s sanity. that scene in which he talks to himself?? poetic cinema. there’s something very off in his head and he reminds me of john murphy from the 100. this is why i’m hoping for a redemption arc for him, or if not redemption, then possibly kind of a joker-esque storyline where he descends into madness and chaos. i love his character because there’s so much going on in his head and the potential for a great villain or a great redemption story is incredible. (whether rafe is still redeemable is debatable, but only makes him more interesting)

ward: he’s an asshole but he’s so layered, he loves sarah and would do anything for her and it seems like she’s the only one on his family he actually gives a damn about, and he treats rafe like utter shit. what’s his thing with wheezie? he doesn’t seem to like her very much. he’s cunning and desperate for the gold, and i’m intrigued by his past - did he kill before big john? is he a professional killer on the side, is that how they got rich? imho he’s a great villain and i love every scene he’s in, because i never know how he’s going to react. his motivations and needs are less clear, but in a sense that they’re not meant to be fully uncovered, and it keeps you thinking.

wheezie: i’ve recently read a post on how she’s actually one of the key characters when it comes to the turn of events, and that’s absolutely true. she’s young and she acts both 8 and 18 at the same time. she’s a snitch but she loves sarah, and i wonder what she’s like with rafe as we haven’t seen much of them. honestly she might be the only sane person in the whole family. she’s very perceptive and i think she’d make for a great sidekick to rafe in the next season, if that’s what they go for.

and that’s it. that’s my list of the characters i actually like watching on screen. the only one that kind of could be on this list is kiara, but honestly she doesn’t have much of a personality beyond being a girl in a boy’s group and wanting to save the world which is...sad. i liked kiara in the beginning, when we were just being introduced to the characters, but it feels like her character didn’t really evolve (save for the scene where she accepts sarah into their group).

john b is your average protagonist that somehow does the thing that people couldn’t have figured out for over a century. his storyline is basically gold + sarah and for the amount of hype they gave to the pogues, it barely feels like he’s a part of them.

sarah is just...idk dude, i don’t find her interesting. i don’t care about her. when she and john b were on that boat in the last episode, for all i cared, they could’ve died. i was just hoping they would’ve because of the pogues. if it wasn’t for that, i wouldn’t have cared at all.

topper is more of a plot device than a character imho and aside from being obsessed with sarah, there’s not much to him. i feel like he has a lot of potential, as we hardly know anything about him. right now, he’s just a dick. just your usual asshole teenage boy.

i forgot about barry, originally, and he’s also quite interesting. we seem him both being friendly with rafe and being incredibly violent, and he seems like the slimy, disgusting guy that you cannot help but find fascinating. (fine, now i realise i should’ve put him up with the interesting characters.) we haven’t seen much of him and i’m hoping he has a bigger role next season (he’ll probably keep tormenting rafe and he still needs his money back from jj)

in any case, that’s just my opinions on the characters. i feel sad about the fact that i don’t care about some of the main characters but hey, happens. maybe they’re just not my cup of tea. i’m very excited about season 2 though, and seeing where they take each of the characters.

#obx #outer banks #outer banks meta #obx meta #obx analysis #rafe cameron #jj maybank #pope heyward #kiara carrera #john b routledge #sarah cameron #topper thornton #wheezie cameron #d.tag

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the-avengers-ate-my-tongue · 5 years

Text

Speachless (part 1)

Summary: after a few days out visiting your mom in other state, Alana calls you to tell you Will was arrested for the murder of Abigail Hobbs and the victims of the copycat killer. You and Will are currently involved, and you know he’d never do something like that but, with consistent evidences and all fingers pointed to him, how would you prove the man you love is innocent?

Pairing: Will Graham x reader

Warnings: swearing, a little angst

Word count: 2843

A/N: Hannibal again! Haha, I’m still obsessed and managed to introduce a friend to the show, soon I’ll start a cult (just kidding. Or am I?). One of the things that bothered me and my friend the most at the end of season one was how everyone just turned their backs to Will so quickly. I understand, they’re FBI, there were evidences, but I don’t know, maybe it’s my favoritism for the character talking. My friend also said that she found unnerving how he’s treated like a machine, a tool, especially by Jack Crawford. That stuck in my mind for days, and I decided to write something at the end of season one to let my mind flow my frustration. Hope you guys enjoy it! Probably there will be a second part of this, I still have a few scenes in my mind and this was supposed to be a oneshot. Let’s see how it goes.

XXX

“What do you mean he was arrested?” My voice trembled while I drove as fast as I could back to Virginia. “Alana, you have to tell me what's going on. Will doesn't need to be arrested, he needs…”

“Some evidences where found in his house yesterday, Y/N.” Her voice faulted, and I could hear her sadness bursting out and reaching me like a breeze. “We really tried to contact you. The FBI found genetic material of the victims of the copycat. They... They think Will killed all those people”.

For a second, I felt my hands go numb. My eyes were wide, my mouth dry. I had no reaction. I lost my attention on the road, only to regain it by almost hitting a huge truck.

I yelled in anticipation, turning as much as I could. The car drove off the road, skidding on sand and finally stopping a few meters ahead.

“Y/n? What's happening?” Alana's voice sounded urgent and took me out of my daze. “Y/n, are you okay?”

“This is ridiculous!” I snapped, and Alana sighed with relief. “Will did not kill them! He wasn't even sick when Cassie Boyle or Marissa Schuur was murdered.”

“The evidences were substantial. And after Abigail, after today, there's nothing we can do for him... At least not anymore” Alana admitted with moderated grief. I felt my mouth dry at the same time I could feel my own sweat soak the wheel under my hands. I could also feel my nails digging so hard the pain woke me up.

“Fucking Jack Crawford” I tried not to sound so revolted, but I couldn't help it. “Damn FBI. We warned him. We saw Will lose his sanity over and over and we didn't do shit. We saw he was breaking. Goddammit... We failed him.”

“I know you two were...” She hesitated, looking for words to put it lightly. “Involved. He escaped custody while he was being taken to Baltimore State Hospital this afternoon. Just promise me you won't do anything stupid and will call Jack or me if he tries to reach you.”

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, uncertain of what to say.

“Y/n.” Alana tried again in a softer tone. “Will's not himself at the moment. He killed Abigail and maybe four more people. I... I don't want to worry about you too.”

I realized how much wrecked she sounded, and a small and unwanted smile crossed my lips.

“I'm a big girl, Lana. You don't have to worry about me, you know?” I tried to laugh it off, but it just came out as a cry.

“Jack wants to see you. You might need to give a statement.” She replied. “We tried to contact you sooner. How's your mom?”

“She’s fine, it was just a warning for her to stop eating junkie food all the time. I can't do this right now, Alana. I can't just chit chat like that and I can't see Jack being this affected. I need to clear up my head. I'll go home, have a shower and...”

My voice just faded as I rubbed my eyes. How was that happening? The last time I talked to Will, he said he was planning to take Abigail Hobbs to Minnesota. That was three days ago. How did so much happen in this short matter of time?

“What did Hannibal say in all of this? He was supposed to warn Jack if he'd seen Will would break. Where was he in all of this?” I couldn't hide my annoyed tone. Hannibal was an old acquaintance of mine as well as Alana's, and I'm sure he'd find my tone quite insolent if he could hear me right now.

“He was the first one Will called. He showed me a drawing he made of a clock two weeks ago. It was normal. Whatever it is, it's something that comes and goes and gives him episodes of instability.”

“Couldn't it be some sort of encephalitis?” I asked after a few seconds of silence, trying to see the evidences. “He had a lot of fever, especially by night time. It got worse after a while. Sometimes he'd like... Vanish mentally to somewhere I couldn't reach. I'd talk to him, but he wasn't really there, you know? In his own mind.”

“I thought about encephalitis, too. He escaped custody before we could run some tests. That's also why we need to find him as soon as possible. It's a dangerous condition, he needs treatment.”

“You're absolutely right. Of course, I'll... See what I can do.” I hated the way my voice sounded so unsure, and I knew Alana would notice it.

She sighed.

“Are you sure you're okay to drive? If you text me your location, I can pick you up.”

“I'm fine. Just half an hour and I'll be home safe and sound.” I said in a melancholic tone. “I'll call Jack later and see what I can do to help.”

She probably was relieved to see some sign of cooperation, even if I didn't really mean it. I hung up and, before I could even realize, drove to Will's place even knowing he wouldn't be there. Of course he wouldn't. I just needed to be sure.

A few minutes later, I parked outside, getting out of the car with my legs like jelly. Not even the dogs were there. That broke my heart even more, as if they extinguished all of Will's essence of the place. I went back to the car with my heart heavy, heading straight home. A shower would do me some good.

By the moment I turned the key on the keyhole I felt the atmosphere changing. Like electric sparks in the air that made all possible hair in my body stand up. I could barely assimilate the hand gripping my pulse and pulling me inside, another firm hand shutting my mouth.

I tried to gasp for air so I could scream but, as I realized the smell that came inside my lungs, my whole body relaxed and I felt relieved.

Will. He was there.

He smelled like pine trees, wet dirt, aftershave and sometimes fish. And dogs, always dogs. A smell that was far from bad and reminded me of him. My eyes were filled with tears as I saw his state. He was pale, sweating and wearing an orange uniform. His breathing was accelerated, he was trembling.

I took his hand off my mouth and pulled him close, throwing myself into his arms. I hid my face in his neck, taking a deep breath. His smell, his essence was still there indeed. I closed my eyes as I felt my tears wet my face, and he hid his face in my hair, grabbing myself in a hug so tight I could feel my bones cracking. I stood away only to see his face. He had this feverish complexion that only made me more worried as I recalled of Alana's words.

“Talk to me, Will. What's happening?” I practically begged, pulling him to the sofa. “God, you're burning up, Will. You have to see a doctor.”

“Y/n, you have to hear me now. Someone is framing me.” He started while refused to sit, his eyes a little wide. “Someone is trying to make it look like I committed the crimes of the copycat. We find him, we find the copycat. It's someone who's close, who knew the case and the evidences, someone in the bureau. Someone we know.”

I felt the shivers go around my body like an electric shock, taking a few steps behind as I covered my mouth with one hand. He sounded very sure, and I couldn't help remember the confusion that stroke his mind in the past few weeks. My mind worked fast and I evaluated all the information I had so far on the cases, trying to make connections. I could see Will was agitated but he allowed me to take my time, and his confidence on me gave me more strength. Even if you could separate the fact that Will was unstable from evidences and informations I had, for me there was still a gap. Missing data.

So I decided to trust him. Trust the man I knew he was, the man I cared deeply about. The selfless, kind man I could see under his armor. Took me a long time to break through the thick layer, and I wouldn't turn my back on him now. He was not the "catching bad guys machine", and I felt like I was the only one that could see it at the moment. There must be an explanation.

“Someone that had easy access to your house, knew your routine, knew exactly what was happening to you...” I felt my heart pumping through my chest like a hummingbird. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was someone close. Probably someone I knew, someone wearing a social mask I couldn't see beyond it. I started searching for clues in my own mind, but i suspected any single little thing would seem suspicious if I didn't get more information. I looked to Will one more time, and saw a little pity in his eyes. No one wanted to find out that someone they know, probably someone close could commit those horrible crimes.

I sighed, scanning his face. In spite of the fever, he seemed more conscious that I'd seen him in the past few days. His eyes were darker, more vivid, glowing almost sickeningly. His hair was a mess, all over his face and gluing on his forehead because of the sweat. He was sharp. I could see it.

“You know who it is, don't you?” I licked my lips, biting my bottom one nervously. He followed my tongue with his eyes, and they seemed to grow even darker.

“I might.”

“Tell me.”

“The less you know the better. If I'm right... I... I don't wanna be right.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds, probably choosing the right words. “It's serious, Y/n. You don't want me to be right, trust me.”

“I do. And I want you to trust me.” I pulled his hair out of his forehead, caressing his defined jawline.

He held my wrists abruptly, pulling my hands down. I didn't even blink, and he smiled lightly. He'd never scare me. I knew the man standing in front of me. I knew he'd never hurt me.

“You don't think I've murdered all those people.”

“Of course I don't. That was never in question.” I replied in a petulant tone. Will opened his mouth to speak, then closed it without making a sound.

“You seem to be the first.” He said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice and eyes and avoiding to look at me. That broke my heart in a way that almost made me feel sick.

My eyes filled with tears and I tried to smile, probably grimacing.

“Maybe I know you too well. Beyond you boundaries and everything else. Did you ever consider that?” I asked in a playful tone. He didn't smile or laugh, though. He just came closer, touching my lips with his in a sweet, caring kiss. They felt hot and a little bit dry, probably due the fever. I could feel all the gratitude in his kiss, the way his hands held my face with tenderness.

He broke the kiss only to keep his forehead on mine, his eyes still closed. My hands caressed the sides of his face as I tried to stop the tears from falling.

“Will. Listen to me. I know you want to catch who's doing this to you, and I think it's only reasonable. But escaping custody will only make you look more guilty, and that's the least you need at the moment. You need treatment.” I tried to sound sensible, but I knew he didn't need to listen to that. He knew I was right, of course, that was obvious.

“You're right. And I will turn myself in. I just have one last stop.” He seemed so certain I knew I wouldn't convince him otherwise.

“Then promise me something, Will Graham.” I held him by his orange uniform with a pleading look. "Promise me you won't do anything reckless. Promise me you won't get hurt".

He didn't reply, taking a deep breath, his face getting sweeter.

“I have no idea what I've done to deserve someone like you.” He said, kissing me again. I held him by his neck as he touched my waist, pulling me closer, his agile fingers marking my skin. The kiss started to get deeper and deeper as I could feel a certain agitation below my abdomen.

“Well...” I pulled away, trying to regain my breath. “Let's get you out of this clothes.”

He was breathing hard, taking a moment to absorb my words. His eyes were darker than ever.

“Y/n...” He started with an uncertain tone, making me laugh a little.

“Well, you can't move around the city in this orange uniform, can you?” I explained in a false innocent tone. “What did you think I meant? You left some clothes here.”

He lowered his eyes, turning slightly red. But the cynic smile was still in his lips.

I climbed the stairs and he followed me. We entered my room and I went straight to the closet, searching for a few clothes I knew he'd left there. As he changed, I took the orange uniform and hid it in a large shoebox I had, putting it behind other boxes.

“There you go. All packed” I said, trying to hide how nervous I was lowering my eyes and staring at my shoes as if they were very interesting. He noticed, of course.

“Y/n…” He started.

“Stay.” I hated the way my voice cracked, that made me feel so weak. I was a very emotional person, while Will was more rational. Nevertheless, I knew he had his moments, I’d seen it.

He sighed, coming to me and lifting my chin with his index while caressed me with his thumb. I closed my eyes, rubbing my face in his hand like a kitten and cursing myself mentally for the tears that stained my cheeks. I felt so desperate. That was serious, he was being framed for someone else’s crimes, someone dangerous that all of us knew. And I had no idea how to prove it, just my blind belief that wasn’t useful for nobody but us. I was facing it; maybe, the following days, even months, would be seeing Will mostly behind bars.

“You know I can’t.” He said in a condescended tone, his deep blue eyes studying my face. “I wasn’t even supposed to be here. It was reckless. I’m sure Jack has eyes for me everywhere, including here. I’m already running out of time. And if he knows about us, then I shouldn’t have even come here in the first place.”

“I know. I’m just being silly.” I agreed, wiping my tears away with a little smile. “And Will, honestly, I think everyone knows about us by now. We weren’t exactly good at hiding it.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Alana was the first to find out, you know?” I told him as I avoided staring at his face, feeling my cheeks burn a little. “She noticed how I looked at you. She says I look like a fool. A beautiful little fool. I asked her not to tell a soul about it, but I’m terrible on hiding my feelings, as you may know. Especially… Especially when it comes to you.”

He listened to my words in silence, his hand still caressing my chin. I noticed how wet they were, he was sweating. I tried to imagine those hands committing violent murder, carving a macabre smile on Sutcliffe’s face, putting Cassie Boyle on the top of those stag antlers. That felt… Wrong. Inadequate. Maybe it was my feelings talking, but I just couldn’t see it.

“So, probably the whole bureau knows by now.” I continued, stepping away and breaking any physical contact. It would be easier to let him go, and he knew it, he saw it in my eyes. I held my body as a form of solace, staring at the floor. “You should go, Will. You’re right. This is dangerous, my house may be under surveillance right now as we speak. Just… Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

He hesitated, opening his mouth to answer at the same moment my phone rang. I startled with the high-pitched sound, taking the goddamn thing out of my pocket and checking the name on the screen. Jack.

I turned my back on him, picking up the phone.

“Jack. Yes. I’m here.” I tried to fight back the tears, sounding convincing enough. I didn’t even had to turn to know Will was gone. His smell slowly began to fade, and in a few seconds, I felt completely alone.

Part two

#Hannibal #Will Graham #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #will graham x reader #will graham imagine #hannibal imagine #will graham headcanon #hannibal oneshot #hannibal season one #will graham oneshot

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light-miracles · 5 years

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Supergirl 5x02

AKA the episode where I lose my mind and regret writing almost every fic I've done

Okay, how do I start? The episode was, being concise, pure perfection. I don't enjoy SG so much since s1. This could be the second best season of the show if they continue this way.

The Martians: I've waited YEARS to get some confirmation that Ma'alefa'ak existed in the show. And when I had lost all hope, the Monitor does his thing and takes him out of the Phantom Zone (we still don't know why but I guess it'll be explained before Crisis). The Martians are, easily, one of DC's best and more interesting cultures. I NEEDED more martians in Supergirl. I still need M'gann back. And I'm really pleased with all the villians this season.

Kara: My good hearted, deeply imperfect Kryptonian baby. How many times did Kara screw things up this episode? Kara can be very imprudent and a little bitchy when she thinks someone else is being less than honorable. (Kara, James hadn't decided if he wanted to be senator you can't use him like that goddamit). I don't know why people insist Lena is the gray character. The gray character is Kara since s2. That doesn't make her, indeed, a bad person, never. She's very human. And very strong. And deeply imperfect. Also I'm warming up to her using more formal dresses. It feels like she has grown up.

I don't trust this William. He has this weird face. If he's Kara's new love interest he needs to be more than a Mon-El 2.0. I don't know anymore.

Dansen: As a massive Sanvers shipper, I like Kelly. She's being something I always wanted my Maggie to be: useful for the plot. I'm rooting for Kelly to be Alex's (damn I hate this word) endgame. I'm not emotionally capable of imagine her with anyone else.

"How could I possibly feel this way about someone I barely know?" Alex baby you fell for Maggie after talking to her for like 2 hours plz stahp.

Andrea: She's interesting. Julieta Susana Gonzalo is one of THE actresses here in Argentina and watching her in Supergirl is as weird as watching your childhood crush getting along with your wife. However Andrea's character is promising and I think she fits. I hope she doesn't dissappear after this season like, oh, I don't know, EVERY OTHER DAMN CHARACTER I'VE LIKED.

Lena: Holy Jesus Tap Dancing Christ.

I was ready for her to turn evil, but I wasn't ready for her to go crazy. What the hell. This is not a fight for Lena's soul, this a fight for Lena's sanity. And I say it with love: she needs help. Now I don't think she's evil. Lillian and Lex are evil. Lena is losing her mind.

I do hope Eve's mind is still there. I'd hate a Thinker 2.0

Only Katie McGrath could turn Girls Just Wanna Have Fun into the perfect murdering song

#Supergirl #Kara zor el #Kara danvers #Sanvers #j'onn j'onzz #Ma'alefa'ak #Lena luthor

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khhunniewriting · 5 years

Text

No Coincidence

As you got closer and closer to the semi-finals of Show Me The Money your fanbase grew. Not only were you gaining credibility as a rapper but also great friends and future business partners. Since you were basically an unknown underground rapper the biggest question on everyone’s mind was who you would end up signing with.

You were always sending love to Yoon Mirae making people think you wanted in with Feel Ghood. But then again you were in Zico & Dean’s team. “I swear I’m going to make my own company and sign you.”

You laughed, it was getting late and you were still caught up rehearsing. Coming up with your next performance for the show was proving to be difficult. Hangzoo had already gone home while you remained. “Give me a good contract Boss and I’ll sign.”

“Really?” Dean asked in shock. He too thought you were after Feel Ghood.

“Honestly,” your hand pressed against your chest. “I’m open to all offers but I do have a list.” You shot a wink at Zico, “I’ll add you to the list Boss.”

“I like being called Boss,” Zico sat taller feeling like he had just been crowned king. From now on you should just call me Boss.”

“Show me the money first,” you shot back causing the filming staff and Dean to break out in laughter.

\\\

Unfortunately, your next performance was your last.

You hugged Hangzoo and congratulated him for being the last member of the team. “You have to win this,” you encouraged while shedding a few stray tears. It was an emotional time, on one hand, you were sad to go but on the other, you had done your best and showed what you were made of.

Hangzoo nodded as held you. He really didn’t want to see you go while he stayed. Zico and Dean joined the hug and gave you words of encouragement that brought back your smile.

On all sides, the other producers and remaining finalists waited to also bid you farewell. You were the final female rapper, your leaving meant the stage would be all men again. They would be losing their witty queen who had a comeback for everything.

“We’re going to miss you Y/N,” Tiger JK gave you a final comforting pat on the back. He slid you a card making you gawk at both him and Bizzy. “That’s my wife’s number.”

“Are you serious? I have Yoon Mirae’s number?” Finally, you had managed to get your favorite rapper to notice you. Everyone wanted to take a look but you quickly held it to your chest obstructing their view and jumping with joy.

That’s how filming ended for you... or so you thought.

As you walked out into the parking lot you ran into Jay Park. “Going home?” he asked rhetorically. He knew you used public transportation and wanted to offer you a ride. This just seemed like the proper thing to say first before doing so.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Even though you got eliminated today, you’re a winner and you should be sent home like one.”

You had to admit you blushed hard just in time for Dok2 to see it too. He came out almost out of nowhere like he was waiting for you somewhere in the shadows.

“What’s going on?” His question was directed at Jay who he thought had already left.

“Just some business.”

“Business?” you asked now realizing what this was about. You were being scouted by CEO Jay Park. “You want me in H1ghr?” That was the label he seemed to be recruiting for recently but he shook his head.

“AOMG.”

Your hands clasped over your mouth to muffle your loud gasp. Could it be true? Were you really being offered the chance to be the second female signed to AOMG? “Like with Hoody and Simon and Gray-”

Jay laughed, “yes to everything.”

“Shit-” you muttered to yourself. First, you got an invitation to Feel Ghood and now one to AOMG. Could things get any better?

Zico approached the three of you with an amused smile. He had expected this. You were truly talented, a diamond in the rough that people were desperate to get their hands on and help shape into something even more amazing. “Is everyone trying to take my talent?”

“Your talent?” Dok2 asked completely unaware of your little conversation with Zico the week before since the episode had yet to air. None of the other producers even knew Zico planned to open up his own company.

Zico nodded, “I am now officially CEO of KOZ Entertainment.”

No one was as taken back as you though. “Damn Boss, you really did it?” Because even if Zico had told you about it you didn’t expect him to really want you in his label. By no means was any of this expected.

Dok2 did not appreciate how close you had grown with Zico or how he towered over you as he showed you some pictures of his new office that was yet to be seen by anyone else. He, on the other hand, had to keep from conversing with you.

“Is Illionaire looking for their first female rapper?” Jay asked. Even though he was personal friends with Dok2 he didn’t know he was interested in you. When everyone else talked about you he seemed particularly quiet. He did, however, catch him staring a few times. “Were you eyeing her all this time?”

You nearly got whiplash from how quickly you turned to look at Dok2.

With all eyes on him, Dok2 had no choice but to say something. “Depends on Y/N.”

The weight of his words made it hard to breathe. “Woah, okay I think I might be dreaming.” For once you had no response to offer.

“If this were a dream I don’t think you would have lost...” Jay pointed out.

“True,” you straightened up and looked each one of them in the eye. All three CEOs were skilled and respected in the community. There was no wrong answer but a decision like this couldn’t be made on the spot. “I appreciate all of this but I need to think about it for a while.”

It was understandable, this was your future- the future of your career. “And as for the ride- I just don’t want to show favoritism to anyone so I’ll just go home the way I usually do.”

And just like any other day you walked down the street to catch the first bus that would take you to the subway station you frequented. All the while you thought of how you had ended your time on the show by crying. “God~” you whined pushing your forehead against the window making the person sitting beside you question your sanity. “Why did I have to go out like that-” your eyes widened as you saw the familiar Rolls-Royce Ghost of a certain CEO.

You scowled in its direction as you stepped out off the bus. After only a couple of steps, you heard your phone begging to be dug out of the small red leather crossbody bag you carried daily. You knew he was watching you through his heavily tinted windows. So you rebelled, you shook your head refusing to answer.

Dok2 gave up. He stepped out in his Gucci bomber and tugged on his beanie. “You know I don’t like being ignored.”

You sighed as people started to notice him and by default- you. It was inevitable if he was around. “And I don’t like standing out in public.” Ironic- with your passion of performing and aspirations of breaking out of the underground scene into mainstream media. You turned him around hooking your arm with his and dragging him back to his car as quickly as possible- before anyone could act on the fact that you two were speaking to each other on the streets,

Not forgetting his decorum, Dok2 opened the door for you. “You sure about that?” The way you auditioned for Show Me The Money told him otherwise.

Your eyes followed him as he made his way around the front of the car and into the driver’s seat. “Why are you mad?” Weren’t you the one who was supposed to be mad? He was the one who suddenly showed up.

“I’m not mad.” Correction- he was annoyed, maybe even irritated.

“Well I am,” you crossed your arms over your chest. He was jeopardizing everything you had worked hard for. “Joonkyung all I wanted was to prove myself. I wanted people to see my talent.”

For the past two years that you and Joonkyung had been dating no one had managed to find out. At first, it wasn’t intentionally meant to be a secret. It was just you two trying things out without putting pressure or having to explain anything to anybody. Now you were used to it. The two of you were becoming increasingly serious as your name was starting to gain some recognition.

That’s why you decided to audition for Show Me The Money- before anyone could pin your success on your relationship with Joonkyung. You intentionally kept your audition a secret from him, chose a different team, and kept your distance from him to avoid speculation.

“You proved yourself,” Joonkyung reached for your hand holding it up to his lips. “Baby you did good.”

His sincerity warmed your heart but you couldn’t smile. Instead, you leaned over the center console to place your forehead on his shoulder. “I lost Joonkyung~” your voice came out whinier than you intended but dammit you were sad. “All I wanted was to win so I could join Illionaire.”

Dok2 wrapped his arm around you as you began to cry. “If you wanted to join all you had to do was ask.”

“Ugh,” you pushed off of him with a groan. “You don’t get it. I don’t want you to just get me because I’m your girlfriend. I want to earn it.”

“You have earned it.” The whole reason he met you was because Hyoeun told him about you. He had seen you at one of your shows at a bar that was well known for its hip-hop performances. “I didn’t just run into you when we met.”

“What do you mean?” you asked intrigued by where this was going. The remaining 50% of your makeup that had managed to survive your tears at the filming was now gone. You dabbed at the edges of your eyes trying to regain composure.

After two years he was finally confessing how he had admired you from afar before chasing you. How he had intentionally booked Hyoeun and Hash Swan at an event you were performing at just so he could have a way to get close to you. “I liked your music, then I liked you too.”

“Babe-” you cut yourself off as you hid your face in his neck. You hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go or he’ll see how hard you were blushing.

Dok2 didn’t care, “So you can forget about the other offers now.” He pulled you over to his side making you sit on his lap. Space was tight as you tried to keep from pushing any buttons.

There was something strange in the way he said those words. It seemed like he was happy, relieved even. “Well, I have to at least talk to them. I didn’t even get to congratulate Jiho.”

“Jiho?” Dok2 tilted his head giving you a questioning look. He wondered when you started calling him by his name.

“Yeah, he’s my friend- very funny. One time he and Hyuk-”

“You’re friends with him too?”

You nodded, “the episode didn’t air yet but we went to the arcade together as a group.” The arcade was your all-time favorite place to go. When Zico and Dean took the team you were the most excited. “They’re all pretty cool.”

“Babe you can’t just tell your boyfriend how cool other guys are. Especially when I just saw you being with them for months while you ignored me.”

“I had to ignore you.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You can’t be jealous.”

“Why not?” Of course he was jealous. You were beautiful, talented, and potentially single to everyone else. He had to think about the possibility of someone trying to make a move on you.

“Because I’m already your girlfriend.” The thought of Joonkyung being jealous never even crossed your mind. "You're always so confident and sure of yourself. Do you honestly think I would leave you for Jiho or Jay?”

“I never said anything about Jay.”

You sheepishly smiled, ”Guess I was just thinking about him.” When you saw the flash of jealousy you confirmed he was indeed the jealous type when it came to you. Instead of holding it against him you put him at ease with a kiss. “Just kidding~”

-end-

A/N: Yeah so what do you guys think about CEO Zico and KOZ?

#khh scenarios #dok2 scenarios #illionaire scenarios #khh #lee joonkyung scenarios #illionaire #dok2 #lee joonkyung #dok2gonzo #khh fanfiction #khh fanfic

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keelywolfe · 5 years

Text

FIC: Partners in Grime (baon)

Summary: Stretch has survived a lot over the years. Surviving Edge's vacation week should be a piece of cake.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Mentions of Depression

part of the ‘by any other name’

Read on AO3

-or-

Read More Here

~~*~~

Stretch wasn’t used to babysitting and that was a fact. Oh, he played games with the neighborhood kiddos, showed them experiments and occasionally planned events but he was pretty sure none of their parents had fooled themselves into thinking that anything he did could be called supervision.

He hoped so, anyway, or there was going to be some inevitable disappointment somewhere along the line.

Anyway, so yeah, babysitting. Not so much. He was used to having the house to himself for most of the day where he could sleep in or watch television or go to the lab—

(don’t think about that)

—or post on twitter while hanging out with the chickens. His days weren’t planned so much as they were loosely connected reoccurring events, and Stretch was fine with that.

Having Edge here every day was ruining his carefully disarrayed schedule and he loved Edge, he loved him so much, and he’d love him even more if he’d sit down for five fucking minutes.

Stress, yeah, sure, Stretch was going to gather up his own stress and shove the whole messy wad of it up Ass-gore’s namesake. But Red had warned him if his bro didn’t chill the fuck out, Asgore was considering sending him on a longer vacation and Stretch was pretty sure that was a sanity massacre waiting to happen.

In the interest of saving them all, Stretch would do his duty to Monsterkind and help.

So far, that had consisted of letting Edge do whatever the fuck he wanted around the house. Just because Stretch didn’t see the purpose of attacking the grout with an old toothbrush didn’t mean it wasn’t an important task, (or so he guessed because he’d spent a lifetime not cleaning grout and he hadn’t dusted yet.)

And just because their neighbor’s smiles when he brought them yet another plate of cookies or muffins were getting a little tight didn’t mean there weren’t other people who would appreciate a treat and so what if Stretch was shortcutting two streets away to find them?

Problem was, cleaning and baking looked like they were losing their luster.

He’d give a half-hearted thought to taking Edge into town to go shopping or maybe a movie but subjecting innocent Humans to him didn’t seem like the best way to build good relations between Humans and Monsterkind.

That left sex as Stretch’s main form of entertainment, hey, may as well enjoy the forced confinement, right?

But after a few days even his libido was starting to make flimsy excuses to call it a night, and while Stretch was usually ready for any reason to desecrate the couch again, if they ever wanted anyone else to sit on it again, they were going to need to let it air out for a couple days. At least washing the sheets gave Edge something to do.

That afternoon he was sitting on the poor, abused sofa, still aching pleasantly in a few key areas from earlier when he realized Edge hadn’t followed him back downstairs. The shower had been turned off for a suspiciously long time and he’d believe Red and Sans were swapping condiment preferences along with spit before he’d believe Edge was laying back down for a nap.

It set off more than a few alarm bells. Time to investigate. For the safety of the City and everyone in it.

Who knew that Edge taking a vacation would give him Superman tendencies?

Shortcutting could be silent if he put enough effort into it. Last time he’d bothered was when he was grabbing all the kids during the ‘human invasion’, if that’s what they called a handful of dipshits, but he did it now. Otherwise Edge would hear him on the stairs.

When the void cleared, Stretch could see Edge was sitting on the bed facing away from the door, almost hunched over, a far cry from his usual perfect posture. Checking his phone from the looks of it, naughty naughty.

“what are you dooooooing?” Stretch asked, pleasantly.

Edge jumped and nearly dropped his phone, fumbling to catch it before it fell on the floor. The look on his face was like a damned neon sign, flashing his guilt for all to see.

“Nothing,” he said brusquely.

Oh, yeah, smooth, that’d fool a lie detector, for sure.

“uh huh,” Stretch leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “nothing. so, my guess is either you’ve taken up watching porn on the sly or you were checking in on your work email. and we both know you’d show me the porn, i always like a good laugh.”

His silence spoke volumes. Edge didn’t like to lie and since he couldn’t Obi-Wan his way out with any ‘some other point of view’ bullshit, he was going with keeping his mouth shut.

Stretch shook his head sadly. His baby was letting him down on the sneak factor; he should’ve checked while he was still in the bathroom. “you know, i promised that i’d keep an eye on you this week. you wanna be responsible for making me break a promise?”

“I didn’t promise,” Edge muttered but he sighed and let Stretch take his hand, followed him back downstairs like the world’s saddest, boniest puppy, “This is ridiculous.”

“uh huh.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“you’re definitely fine, babe, always loved those jeans.”

“I’ve taken a couple of days, I’ve relaxed—“

“uh…yeah…about that. you might need a refresher on the whole ‘relaxing’ thing. i could google it for you.”

“And I’m ready to be back at work.”

“you and me both.”

“What was that?” Edge asked distractedly.

“sit.” And when he didn’t, Stretch pushed on his shoulders until Edge gave in and finally sat down heavily on the sofa. Sternly, Stretch told him, “stay there.”

When it looked like Edge was probably going to obey even if it was with all the grudging he could muster, Stretch went to the kitchen. Time to bring out the secret weapons.

He came back out with a heavily laden tray, covered in plates that held the sort of things that required toothpicks and stupid green garnishy things, and announced, “i have snacks. i have drinks. we are watching netflix.”

“Where did you get this?” Edge eyed everything suspiciously, like Stretch had taken up poisoning as a part-time job. “I know you didn’t make it.”

Well, if he had, then he would probably be well on his way to his first paycheck as an amateur poisoner. “i did not, my brother did, so it’s probably safe. you know you love his spinach puffs. now, eat and watch tv.”

“Must we?” Edge groaned. He flopped back against the cushions and honestly, this was fascinating from a scientific point of view. Edge on the verge of a tantrum was a state of being that Stretch hadn’t even known existed, much less that he’d be the one to discover it. He should write a paper. “I’ve seen enough television to last the rest of the year.”

“i hope not, i’m looking forward to the new season of ‘masterchef’. anyway, i think you’ll like this one.”

He picked up the controller and started the episode. Bright music began along with a man explaining, “It’s a never-ending battle to fight the clutter—"

Edge sat up and grabbed a spinach puff, stuffing it into his mouth and chewing with an impressive amount of grudgingness before slumping back to glare at the tv.

If Stretch survived this he was asking for a raise.

An hour later and Stretch was ready to mark this one as a win. Edge was riveted in a way even Gordon Ramsey rarely managed. Probably a good thing Stretch had already married him, or he might be on a plane with flowers in hand, ready to spark a little joy.

Stretch wasn’t quite as enamored; he was okay with the show, sure, the host was a sweetheart. It was just a hell of a lot more fun watching Edge. The way he quivered as the families tried to excuse their messiness, like he was resisting the urge to reach through the screen and shake them. His visible satisfaction when they showed they were on the right path and the episode ended with triumph and order.

It was fucking adorable.

He didn’t get to watch Edge like this very often. Usually if they were watching television, Stretch liked to live up to his namesake and stretch out, laying half on Edge and half off the sofa, soaking up the warmth from his blanket and his baby both.

It was moments like these that he was jarringly reminded that Edge really was younger than him, the same age as his little brother. With his crimson eye lights wide and focused on the screen, enchantingly absorbed, he looked his age in a way he rarely did.

He’d gone through so much in his life; some of it was visible on his bones, the crack in his socket was the most obvious but there were others, scars that had healed roughly without a gentle hand to press soothing magic into them. The other scars were buried a hell of a lot deeper and whether they were why he needed a break from work or they were the reason he drove himself so hard to begin with was anyone’s guess.

Stretch had his own theories.

But that combined with his unrelenting attitude made Edge seem older than he was. Didn’t help that it was hard to gauge ages with skeletons. Plenty of Monsters guessed that Stretch was the younger one.

He liked to think it was because he was young at heart, fuck you very much.

And then after everything he’d gone through, Edge went ahead and hitched his life to Stretch’s broke-ass wagon. Looking at Edge and thinking about the years he had yet to come sometimes made that bitter little voice that lived in the back of Stretch’s thoughts come to life, syrupy-thick, persuasive, and as foul as swamp water, asking him what the fuck he thought he was doing here, telling him he didn’t deserve this. Edge had earned better than having to spend his life dealing with Stretch’s brand of generic bullshittery.

Today more than usual it was easy to stuff that voice back. What kind of asshole would it make Stretch to try to make his choices for him? Stretch had a little too much experience with that and once you allowed it to start happening, it was fucking difficult to flick the switch back. Besides, if his taste in partners was questionable, at least his baby had a good soul.

He was selfish, knew it, but still. He wanted to be the one to spark joy in Edge

When the episode ended, Stretch didn’t even ask. He reached out automatically to push the button that skipped the intro on the next one. The spinach puffs were a distant memory but there were still the tapenade toast points to contend with.

A glance back at Edge made Stretch duck his head to hide a smile. Edge looked like his inner neat freak was getting a deep tissue massage. Now that, friends and neighbors, was relaxed.

“can i ask something?” Stretch said, idly, “how is it a clean bee like you can stand to be with me?”

Edge managed to tear his gaze away from the television long enough to look at him with genuine surprise and a little fond scorn, probably for the pun. It tore away the last bit of the illusion of youth and that left nothing but his own husband, who told him archly, “Marie says it herself. I love a mess.”

Okay, damn, affection and insult in one, and by the Angel, Stretch loved him so, so much. “i asked for that.”

“You did,” Edge agreed. But he caught hold of Stretch and pulled him in anyway, tucking him in comfortably against his side. He was soothingly warm and Stretch snuggled in happily, sighing as Edge pressed a kiss against his skull before whispering to him, “You bring me joy.”

Well, hey, mission accomplished. Now Stretch only had to keep it up for a few decades, no biggie.

But first, he needed to survive the week.

-finis-

Notes:

I can't help but feel that Edge would love 'Tidying Up With Marie Kondo'. His platonic soul mate. ^_^

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underswap papyrus #underfell papyrus #by any other name

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cheesybadgers · 5 years

Text

Endgame Spoilers Ahead

Ok, so I don’t normally write many posts on here, but I need to write all of this down, otherwise I think I’ll go mad. This rambling post is more for my own sanity and therapy tbh.

If you haven’t seen it yet and don’t want spoilers, you have been warned!

Firstly, I enjoyed the experience of the film overall and didn’t hate it or anything. It was the most tense, emotional rollercoaster of a film I think I’ve ever seen and I felt absolutely, completely EXHAUSTED by the time I came out the cinema. I went to a gig a couple of hours later and honestly could have just fallen asleep before the band even came on stage. But I also think that experience will be diminished with multiple viewings, for me anyway. A lot of that experience came from not knowing what was coming and that’s such a fun element to it (again, for me personally).

Secondly, there were parts I really liked, there were some bits I was a bit meh about but let slide and tbh, the last 10 minutes or so didn’t massively upset me whilst I was sat in the cinema. It was only once I was out of there and started to think about it all a bit more that I became increasingly upset and a bit angry.

I was kinda surprised Sam got the shield, but with a bit more explanation I would have been happy with that. Personally, I’m choosing to believe that Steve offered the shield to Bucky first, but he said no, or Bucky just straight up told Steve to offer it to Sam because he didn’t want it. I can completely accept him saying no to it, because he never wanted to fight the world in the way Steve did. Bucky never had a choice in it the way Steve did (plus Sam voluntarily signed up for the military as well...the only bit I struggle with is the fact that Sam isn’t a super soldier in the way Steve and Bucky are, but that conversation is for another day and will hopefully be explored more in the Falcon and Winter Soldier series). He was forced to sign up to fight in WWII, he was forced to be an assassin, he was forced to fight for his own survival in Civil War, because everyone was trying to kill him, he felt obligated to fight in Infinity War/Endgame, because it was the right thing to do and he’s always been fiercely loyal to Steve. Plus he’s blatantly still going to be carrying guilt and trauma for everything he did as The Winter Soldier, to the point where I imagine he wouldn’t even feel worthy of taking up the Captain America mantle. But erm, it would have been nice to, I don’t know, actually see him and Steve have a conversation that explores some of this and consists of more than a couple of lines of dialogue and a brief hug.

Did the writers think the sexual chemistry between them was so strong that if they are even shown on screen together conversing as two long standing best friends would, that they would spontaneously start having sex all over the place??? I just don’t get it!! I’m not even talking about all of this from a shipping point of view, as I and most people never actually genuinely expected them to make Steve and Bucky a couple. But after everything that has happened in the three Cap films, after Steve put his life on the line, became a fugative of the government, broke up the Avengers and went on the run, DROPPED HIS SHIELD SEVERAL TIMES and almost killed Tony all to protect Bucky, they don’t even have the decency to give us satisfying closure on one of the most important and popular friendships in the entire MCU. I just....urgh...I could cry. Well, I have cried tbh. I’ve cried quite a lot, because it’s such a disservice to everyone involved.

I think the first inkling that this wasn’t going to be what I was expecting was the group therapy scene. I was surprised and gotta say disappointed that whilst everyone else in the group was talking about how hard it was to lose someone important to them in the snap, Steve just moped about Peggy. I couldn’t believe it!! The trailers seemed to hint that this was Steve not being able to move on from losing so many people important to him in the snap (not just Bucky and Sam), not because he never got to go on a date several decades ago. Don’t get me wrong, I love Peggy. Honestly, I do. She’s bad ass and a great character and her and Steve would have been great together, but I thought the poignancy of the lost love story was precisely that; a lost love. It was painful and sad, but that was the entire point. He had previously shown signs of moving on and we all know Peggy did move on. I was mildly irritated she had a photo of pre-serum Steve on her desk in the 70′s mind you, unless that was wibbly wobbly MCU timey wimey and her husband was actually Steve in that universe, who knows? I won’t even try get my head around the time travel rules in this post tbh, I’ll leave that for someone else to unpick. I don’t know, it all just felt too over-indulgent on the Steve/Peggy front and like I was being hit over the head with it all the time, when frankly, there were much more pressing issues to deal with.

Of course Steve deserved happiness and being able to put himself first for a change, of course he did. But I just wish they hadn’t done it like this at the expense of years of character development and friendships we’ve repeatedly been told and shown are hugely important to Steve. Part of me wonders why Peggy couldn’t have come to the future (after they’d fixed the stones, HYDRA and Bucky obviously) though? Steve could still have stepped away from being Cap and lived a domestic life with Peggy if he wanted to. She would have thrived in the 21st century and could have hung out with all of the other bad ass women at Avengers HQ (newly re-built of course). It’s not like Steve didn’t adapt to modern life (we use one example of that as a reaction gif all the god damn time :p). So I think it was more the execution of it all that pissed me off really. It had so much potential to be better than this.

So now I’m mostly just looking forward to Falcon and Winter Soldier. Seriously, I’m more excited about that than anything else related to the MCU at the moment. Both Sam and Bucky deserve way more screen time and character development. Imagine an entire episode, let alone a series, where Bucky is allowed dialogue that consists of more than the odd sentence or two? JUST IMAGINE. I’m so here for it. They might even let him be happy, WHO KNOWS?!

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commanderatherfuck · 6 years

Text

Have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?

*sips hard liquor from a “World’s Best Fandom” coffee mug*

Yes, you got it right, this is happening. Get comfortable there, in today’s episode we’re going to bust one of the most popular myths among cullenmancers of all time:

“Cullen can't be a virgin in DAI because he's hot, confident and 30”.

First of all, I’d like to point out that I’m very reluctant to the notorious image of DAI Cullen as a "chantry boy", which basically means the face of DAI Cullen slapped on the DAO Alistair character. As ironic as it may seem the main accomplishment of forcing this image was a creation of strong belief within the fandom that the virgin!cullen headcanon is something utterly AU-ish, existing only in the minds of those who’re into virginity kink. I’m going to give you another perspective on this popular viewpoint.

The most common argument in defense of nonvirgin!cullen position sounds like:

“Cullen doesn’t act like a virgin in DAI”

I have two problems with this statement. First one is that this argument traditionally comes along with a comparison between DAI Cullen and DAO Alistair. The logical structure looks like: “Alistair was an awkward virgin in DAO. Cullen’s behavior in DAI is nothing alike. Therefore Cullen is not a virgin in DAI”. The mistake here is that Alistair’s behavior in DAO doesn’t define the behavior of every virgin in the world, not mentioning the fact that comparison between DAO Alistair and DAI Cullen is completely inappropriate. Don’t you think that it’s a little bit strange to expect the exact same behavior from a young and innocent boy and adult worn and torn guy just because both of them don’t have sexual experience?

The second problem I have is getting the “doesn’t act like a virgin” part. It sounds almost like there's some unified pattern of virgins' behavior when obviously there's none. The stereotype of a shy awkward virgin, incapable of saying two words without stuttering, is a powerful one but it is still a stereotype. Very blunt too, so it’s really surprising for me to see how many people are eager to fall for it. And just like any other stereotype, this one cannot be applied to everyone and certainly not to Cullen as a matter of fact. Cullen does act confident in DAI and the main reason for it is that he is mature first and foremost.

The lack of experience in sex alone doesn't nullify the general maturity.

I really don't know how to stress this enough. This is arguably the most bugging thing about the whole (non)virgin!cullen drama for me and the very reason why I decided to create this post. Cullen is confident because he's a mature, grown-ass man who's gone through ugly shit more than once and survived. He won't act like Alistair even if he is a virgin. It just doesn't work like this, okay? He's a mature adult, Alistair is a young innocent boy. And it has nothing to do with sexual experience. The concept of maturity is a little more complex than just the fact of having or not having sex in life. It's possible to be an irresponsible child with rich sexual life and a fully responsible adult without any sexual experience at all.

Lack of sexual experience is not equal innocence and Cullen is by no means innocent.

He's seen some shit, he's done some shit. Cullen has stable, fully developed personality, he mastered himself and earned his maturity hard way and that's exactly where his confidence comes from. Lack or existence of sex in his life is completely irrelevant for it.

Just to be perfectly clear: Cullen's confidence comes from his maturity, but his maturity doesn't come from lack or existence of sexual experience in his life.

________________________________________________________________

Now when we cleared this up let’s figure out why virgin!cullen headcanon is at least equal to nonvirgin!cullen and why you don’t have to be an adept of “virginity cult” to embrace it.

The main reason why Cullen can be a virgin in DAI lies in his tremendously traumatized background.

@aurianavaloria has a wonderful lore-friendly character research on the matter, so I strongly recommend to read it to be able to get the whole picture.

I have a serious problem with how lightly fandom treats serious topics such as PTSD and mental trauma in Cullen's biography. I've seen way too many people among both fans and haters who either ignore the Kinloch incident completely or perceive it like some small unfortunate event while it was actually a milestone in Cullen's personality formation. Just think about it - young innocent pup who'd never seen abominations or even death before had gone through horrific shit: loads of gruesome deaths of friends and people he was supposed to protect, severe mental and physical tortures and possibly even rape. And right after that instead of long and proper treatment, he got straight into hands of charismatic zealot who gave him some sort of crooked sympathy, nurturing his fears and hatred.

This kind of trauma is not something that can be overcome fast and easily and it certainly had a major impact on Cullen's personality development.

I’ve seen more than once the argument that:

“10 years is a long period of time, long enough to get over with PTSD. I can’t believe he didn’t have any action during that time, not necessarily something serious, but you know, just regular banging”.

Well, let me tell you one thing – one of the worst aspects of having PTSD is that side effects linger for a ridiculously long time, some never go away even if the person recovering in peace, surrounded by family and loved ones. Cullen didn’t have the luxury of recovering, he was forced to face his fears on the regular basis. The only thing that kept him sane was faith, in Maker and in the Order, represented by ‘”supportive” Knight-Commander. To think, his relationship with Meredith was a true deal with the devil. She showed him some kind of sympathy as she had the similar experience in her lifetime, and, what’s more important, showed him that there’s another path to prevent any further pain. The proper treatment he truly needed after events of the Broken Circle was replaced by the false purpose, based on fear and fanatical devotion to the duty and the Order. It did work but in a rather distorted way. Cullen’s recovery was like an improperly healed leg bone – painful, unstable, with lingering side effects, but at least he still could have been able to stand. And that’s exactly why I find it difficult to blame him for the notorious “magesarenotpeople” drama. It’s way too easy to brand him a villain in DAII, however, all I see there is a young broken person, clinging for the shards of sanity and trying to find the strength to go on after the severe trauma wherever he can, even in the blind zealotry. Was it a wrong way to go? Absolutely. Do I have a moral right to blame him for it? Not even close.

So, long story short, 10 years totally may be not long enough to overcome PTSD, especially under the circumstances of constant stress and fear. The things are even more complicated if there was a sexual assault of any form during the Broken Circle. Sex and PTSD is a whole different topic for another day, let’s just say that impacts of a mental trauma can make sexual life really tricky. That makes the “regular banging” part quite dubious, not mentioning that casual sex is not for everyone to begin with. Some people do it lightly, some people don’t do it at all, either way is absolutely normal for any gender. Whether Cullen is the “regular banging” type or not and how badly PTSD affected his post-Fereldan sexual life is up to one’s headcanons. Personally, I’ve seen no evidence during the series that allow to affirm that Cullen divides concepts “sex” and “sex in the relationship”. The main problem for me is that one needs to treat casual sex lightly to perform it, and Cullen’s attitude towards pretty much everything is anything but light. Almost everyone who ever speaks of him during the game mentions at some point that he’s very serious, if not uptight. Hell, even Quis herself can tell him during the wedding cutscene “Always so serious”. This image doesn’t really get along well with the concept of casual fucking in my mind. But this is just my take on the character anyway.

Of course, all of this above doesn't prove that Cullen is necessarily a virgin in the Inquisition but it does prove that he has every reason to be one. According to WOT Cullen's attitude during Kirkwall period was cold towards both mages and templars, he didn't want to let anyone in and had a damn good reason for it.

There's a very high possibility that Cullen could have chosen to close himself from any kind of close social interactions (sexual ones like casual banging included) to prevent any further pain after traumatic events of the past and there's nothing strange or wrong about that.

________________________________________________________________

For the record, I do recognize the power of headcanons and totally respect them. I have zero problems with the fact that some people don’t see Cullen as a virgin in DAI. That’s how headcanons work and I’m more than cool with it. What gives me cringe however is the fact that some people claim that Cullen can’t be a virgin in DAI just because it’s not “normal” for a 30 yo handsome man to be one. This is arguably the most toxic argument in defense of nonvirgin!cullen position ever. I won’t torment you with off-topic *virginity is a social concept* rant, instead of that I’ll just say that the modern world's concept of a 'normal guy' may not work in Thedas. I strongly doubt that the social pattern of a "normal man" who should lose his virginity in between his early teens and mid-20s is fully acceptable for Thedas. The society with the ultimate power of the religious organization is very likely to be less reluctant to the idea of adult virginity than the modern one. Chantry is presumed to have its members, templars included, virtuous. It's not required, yes, templars can marry and sex is not totally tabooed for people who serve the Chantry but apparently, physical temperance is a thing for andrastian religion (remember Alistair's memories of his Templar days or Sebastian's celibacy) and not considered as a deviation. My general point here is that meeting an adult virgin man in Thedas is more frequent occurrence and more acceptable social concept than it is in the modern world.

Speaking of Cullen in particular, the man can be a virgin in DAI because of his traumatized background, PTSD, and following lifestyle choices. Considering all that, you can see that the virgin!cullen headcanon has a bit more solid backup than just “cult of virginity” or “first-time-big-deal kink” and that’s exactly what makes the whole thing totally plausible. And yes, it is plausible.

The writer deliberately left the virgin/nonvirgin thing ambiguous and did a pretty good job with that I dare say. Every romance related scene with Cullen can be read either way. There’s not a single scene in the game that can categorically prove that Cullen is/isn’t a virgin.

O RLY? :

“Cullen laughed at Bull's dick joke - HALF-LIFE 3 NONVIRGINITY CONFIRMED”

Um, no? The only thing confirmed in this scene is that Cullen finds the joke amusing and that he actually has a sense of humor hidden deep underneath his usual polite cold attitude. Let's just assume he is a virgin in this scene. So why wouldn't he laugh? Because he's not able to get sexual context without actual experience? I don't think it works that way, getting jokes is about intelligence and sense of humor, you don't need to have the exact same experience mentioned in the joke to find it funny. Besides, look at Cullen's attitude in this scene again, it's not all that confident "good one, bro". He definitely feels uncomfortable, even more uncomfortable than Josie a.k.a. Ultimate Disney Princess, so this scene definitely doesn't seem like a solid proof of Cullen's sexual experience existence.

Yeah, that’s all good, BUT :

“He said that there’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun – it proves that he is experienced!”

Once again, Cullen is an adult in Inquisition. He is aware of sexual intercourse existence and won’t faint or something just because he witnessed its aftermath. If he is still a virgin it’s not because he’s a prude or reluctant to the very idea of sex, but because of deep personal problems, caused by traumatic past. “Nothing wrong with having a bit of fun” can be a simple display of “live and let live” principle. For example, an asexual person can tell you “doing hardcore sex is totally ok if you’re happy with it”. Same idea here.

Bitch, please:

"Two words: Desk. Sex. Alistair is inexperienced. Cullen’s got moves. Fight me" “It’s not something a virgin would do” ”This is not the action of a virgin” “DESK SCENE”

Ok, we finally made it to the juiciest part of this episode. What could I possibly say against the almighty Desk Scene, the bastion of Commander’s Sexual Experience? Well, wonder no more – the answer is “conversation before it”. The paradox is – if Cullen’s pre-sex conversation would have been identical to Alistair’s I’d agree with y’all – the man is by no means a virgin. The guy tells the woman he loves how much he cares and asks her to spend a night with him here and now. After she says “yes” the guy fucks her mindlessly on the table. Very hot and yep, there’s definitely some experience right there. But it’s not what happened at all. Just rewatch the scene once again.

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*video captured by Geek Remix

You do see the difference, right? He’s not asking to spend a night with him, he’s asking to spend a life with him.

He’s really tensed and frustrated all along, hesitating to ask the woman he loves to share a future with him because it seems «too much to ask». It’s a real commitment for him – to open up to someone first time in a very long time. He feels extremely vulnerable at this point and probably makes one of the hardest personal choices ever. He’s not even sure how to formulate his question because he’s afraid that he’s asking too much of her. And then she simply turns him towards her with the gentle “Cullen, do you need to ask?” as if she’s already made the decision he found difficult even to express.

Do you see how important for him this scene is? It’s not just “I totally want you here and now” moment, it’s “I totally love you and want you here and now” moment. The scene is hands down hot, but there’s so much more in it than just a simple steamy moment between two lovers. In fact, the sex itself is secondary in this scene, it’s more about feelings, acceptance and trust. What’s happening here is the guy who doesn’t consider himself as a good person asking the woman he deeply cares about to accept him with all his shit he’s constantly kicking himself for and become the part of his life. And she does. Unconditionally. The significance of this conversation for Cullen is so much greater than just “we’ll bang, ok?”, it means the end of the whole phase of his life, it means that he actually managed to get over with bitterness and chosen solitude after Kinloch, it means that he finally got a chance to live for himself with the person he loves by his side.

Mention that he didn’t start to rip her clothes off right after this realization, he’s still somewhat hesitant, the fists are clenched,“I suppose not. I want-”. Notice this little concerned pause after Quis knocks the bottle off his desk and then this one big “Fuck it” moment happens. Like all the pieces are suddenly fit - he trusts her, he loves her, he wants her, so no more doubts. The following *sweeping shit off the desk and expressing overwhelming feelings on top of the closest available surface* episode is an act of pure passion, fueled by strong feelings, that kind of passion when nothing except the person you truly want at this very moment matters, neither place nor past sexual experiences. And that’s why it’s completely irrelevant whether Cullen was a virgin prior to this scene or not.

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