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#I know Grace probably seemed like the best choice because she likes rules and stuff
totallyawesomeomens · 8 months
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Okay so no offence to Tom Houston but after seeing Nerdy Prudes Must Die I have some serious doubts about his judgement when it comes to babysitters
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ri-ahhh · 4 years
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Okay, but with Grayson complaining about being lonely and wanting a girlfriend I CANT HELP but to think about how horny he probably is on top of that. Like- its been on my mind for days, so can you PLEASE write something about gray meeting a bitch, like through friend or something, and realizing he likes her and then having these dirty thoughts about her, and like he doesn't want to but he just cant help it... I will die and love you forever, you're writing is my absouloute favortie.
Ur so sweet babe haha thank you😊 hope this is along the lines of what you wanted.
Getting his dick wet has never been a problem for Grayson Dolan; not since receiving his first sloppy, inexperienced blowjob when he was on tour at the tender age of 16. There’s been a steady flow of girls in and out of his life ever since, fulfilling both his needs sexually and the fleeting desire for noncommittal intimacy. And that’s how he likes it for the longest time. Easy and no-strings-attached.
But he’s older now, and even though quarantine hadn’t stopped him from hitting up his favorite one or two booty calls every now and then, he feels empty in a way that’s becoming all-too familiar. It’s not a new feeling, but every time he leaves their homes (because that’s his number one rule — hookups stay out of his bed), there’s a longing that wasn’t satisfied and that’s becoming more and more apparent to him.
So he stops fucking around — literally. He believes in the power of the mind and manifestation almost to a fault, and considers that maybe he’s letting casual hookups interfere with what he really wants: companionship.
It seems like a breeze at first. Grayson swears he feels lighter, clearer in the head, more focused on what he wants out of his life. He puts his mind to being the best version of himself and hoping that it’s enough to attract the same kind of person that he can put all of his love and effort into in return.
As months roll on, however, he realizes that sometimes the universe just doesn’t listen right away. And for the first time in his life, Grayson discovers the monotony and reality of what it’s like for the ‘regular’ guys out there, whose only sexual pleasure comes from their own hand and the porn category of choice for the night. He was used to that as a filler, for sure, but not as his one and only outlet.
Plain and simple, he’s horny. All the time. Which makes him grumpy, and irritable, and frustrated with both himself and everything around him. So when Ethan tells him in passing that his girlfriend is flying in from New York with her friend to visit, it just makes him grunt. The fact that his brother is in such a happy and healthy relationship himself is a point of contention for Grayson in his head. He’s thrilled for Ethan, but he can’t help but dwell on the creeping jealousy in his chest. Here he is, starved for both intimacy and sex now, and Ethan will get served both of those the following night in excess while Grayson lies in his bed alone.
The next night, they’re all having dinner at the kitchen table — all four of them, including her. The friend. The friend that Ethan had mentioned would be coming but that Grayson had so brusquely ignored. The friend that had his eyebrows raised the second she walked shyly through his front door, drawn in immediately by her beauty.
The friend he can’t keep his eyes off of now as she goes to town on the roasted sweet potatoes and black bean burgers he had made himself. She’s quiet but witty and has a cute laugh that makes his heart flutter a little in a way he hasn’t experienced in a long time.
He feels a nudge against his ribs, and startles when he jerks to the side to see Ethan staring at him pointedly with a knowing little smile on his lips.
“You’ve got ketchup on your shirt, bro,” he says, nodding to the blob of red on Grayson’s white shirt that had dropped from the forkful of sweet potatoes, which had only made it halfway to his mouth as he listened to her talk.
“Shit,” he mumbles embarrassedly, flushing a color near the tomato-red that’s now stained his shirt. Of course, the first time he’s feeling real feelings around a beautiful girl, he has to revert to awkward, clumsy Grayson rather smooth, relaxed Grayson.
He starts to scrub up the mess with his napkin, but she reaches out from her seat across the table from him and grabs his wrist in her petite hand. “Oop, wait! Dab, don’t swipe, or you’ll make it worse. I know how to get that out as long as it’s not smeared around into the fabric.”
Grayson swallows, his arm flaring with goosebumps at her gentle but insistent touch, but tries to keep his cool. She’s grinning at him amusedly, then sits back in her seat when Grayson follows her instructions.
“I thought ketchup was one of those things that you’re just kinda fucked if you get it on your clothes, Ethan says, filling the silence left by his brother.
She shakes her head. “Nope. Peroxide will get it right out, especially if you wash it after. Do you have any?”
Ethan cocks a brow and looks at Grayson, hoping he’ll use the opportunity to speak to her. Thankfully, he does, even if it is lacking a little bit of gracefulness. “Huh, peroxide? Oh... uh, yeah, I — yeah, in my bathroom.”
“I’ll help you when we’re all done, if you want,” she offers before taking a modest bite of her burger.
Grayson nods, and can’t help but watch the way she sucks a bit of barbecue sauce off her thumb once she swallows. His heart picks up and he has to shift in his seat a little when she winks at him, his pants tightening under the table. Damn it. He’s been trying to avoid that reaction and those thoughts, determined to do this right.
He fixes a smile to his lips, and hopes his face isn’t giving him away. “Yeah, that’d be great.”
Everyone helps clean up the table and dishes, and Grayson leads her into his room while they leave the other two to have some alone time. He prays that he made his bed that morning and that there’s no dirty underwear on the floor or used tissues on the nightstand.
Luckily, the floor is relatively clear, and the bed is made, if haphazardly so. She follows him into the en-suite bathroom and watches him dig under the cabinet in the first aid bucket he has down there.
She’s wearing jean shorts and a loose-knit sweater, and when Grayson starts to stand back up he takes a moment to appreciate the tone in the muscles of her legs and the flashes of skin he can see through her top, hoping he isn’t being too obvious.
She takes the brown bottle from him and tugs on the hem of his shirt. “It’ll be easier if you take this off.”
Grayson nods, and can’t help the laugh that escapes him when she turns her back to him. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you your modesty! I don’t know you, for all I know you might be super insecure.”
“At the risk of sounding like a total douche, I promise I’m not,” he answers, reaching behind his neck to tug the collar up and over his head. “Here you go.”
She turns back around, and Grayson doesn’t miss the way her eyes travel over his sculpted torso. He can’t help but smirk a little, thrilled at the cute blush that tinges her cheeks when she meets his eyes and realizes she’s been caught.
He hasn’t had a woman look at him like that in months, however, and he’s grateful when she tells him, “This will need to go in the laundry tonight if you want to make sure the stain comes out, so you’ll need another shirt anyways.”
It gives him an out to duck into his closet, taking a moment to collect himself before grabbing the first T-shirt his hand touches and slipping it over his head.
“Cold water first,” she informs, smiling at him through the mirror when he re-emerges as she leans over the sink with the water running. She shuts off the water and squeeze out the excess, then takes the peroxide and pours some onto the stain.
“Woah,” Grayson says, eyebrows raised in surprise at the fizzing bubbles visibly picking up the bright red from the fibers of his shirt. “Where did you learn this trick?”
“I work in the toddler room at a daycare. We keep this stuff on sight and scene to avoid 20 outfit changes a day on a few two year-olds. I’m sure you can imagine the amount of ketchup and blood stains a toddler procures on the daily.”
Grayson chuckles. He feels himself growing more fond of her by the second. “You like kids?”
“I love them,” she replies with a grin. “Working in childcare is pretty rough, but it’s been a great college job. Lots of experience for my degree. And, you know, good practice for the future one day.”
If he hadn’t been sold by now, that does it. Beautiful, smart, and good with kids?
He takes a moment to assess himself and his thoughts. He doesn’t think he’s letting his dick lead him right now, even if he does want her that way. He’s just as attracted to her mind as he is the curves of her body and the features of her pretty face, and finds himself wanting to talk to her for hours on end.
He doesn’t realize there’s a heated silence, both of them standing there staring at each other, until she clears her throat and holds up his shirt. Grayson glances down at it to see just a faint brown rim around what use to be a bright red mark. “All done.”
“Thank you,” he says, taking it from her and tossing it in his laundry basket. “Come on, hopefully we don’t walk into something we can’t unsee.”
“You make a pretty good meat shield,” she says jokingly, following close behind him. “All big and broad. I can just hide behind you and keep my eyes unscarred.”
Grayson laughs loudly, his ego swelling, and he has to resist the urge to take her hand in his. That would be too much. Right?
Thankfully, the couple is just cuddling innocently on the loveseat when they enter the living room.
“Movie?” Ethan asks when the two of them settle on the couch, a respectful and calculated distance between them — not too close and not too far.
“Sure.”
They’re all in a fun and lighthearted mood tonight, so they settle on Moana. Grayson wants nothing more than to throw his arm around the beautiful girl next to him, who sings along playfully to the songs she knows, her enthusiastic movements shuffling her closer to him. He doesn’t know if it’s intentional, but he doesn’t really care; her presence in both body and spirit feels good to him.
Ethan’s girlfriend only makes it about halfway through the movie before she’s passed out, tired from the long flight earlier that day. He looks down at her fondly and chuckles when he sees her nuzzled sound asleep against his chest.
“I’m gonna take her to bed,” he announces quietly before standing with her in his arms. “Goodnight, guys.”
They both murmur back “goodnight” and watch Ethan disappear down the hall. The movie plays on for a couple of minutes, before she’s turning to him and making small talk. Which turns into broader conversation about bigger things. Which leads to them settling so close that their knees touch. She finds an excuse to pick an invisible fleck of something off his hand, which turns into their fingers playing with each other’s teasingly.
Which turns to Grayson checking his watch in a quiet but not unpleasant lull, and muttering, “Oh, shit,” in surprise.
She checks her phone lying on the couch cushion behind her. The time shines back at her 1:27 AM.
“Damn, when did it get so late?” she wonders aloud, looking at him amusedly.
Grayson shakes his head. “Time flies,” he says. Whether it’s the late hour, or him getting his mojo back, or just the fact that he’s so naturally comfortable with her, he suddenly feels bold enough to reach out and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you tired?”
She blushes and bites her lip, allowing him to keep his warm palm pressed to her neck while his thumb strokes the ridge of her jaw gently.
“Not really,” she answers, scooting that much closer to him. “Not ready to go to my bed, anyways.”
She’s referring to the guest room she’s already settled her things into. Grayson smiles. Rules be damned, he thinks, until he realizes in the next moment that there’s no way this amazing girl is going to be just a hookup. There’s no rule to be broken.
“Why don’t you come to mine, then?”
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beeexx · 3 years
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Fic: Winter
4 tattoos on TK’s body, 4 stories set over each of the 4 season. Carlos and TK grow closer.
Read part one and two or the whole thing on my ao3 .
---------- When Carlos was younger he used to love Christmas, loved the lights, the food, the music and spending time with his family. He still likes all that but ever since becoming a police officer and seeing how absolutely crackers everyone gets over Christmas he has reassessed that notion thoroughly and decided that he only enjoys Christmas when he can completely shut off the outside world and escape the insane nonsens, then, yes Christmas is lovely. Having been single for the majority of his time on the force always makes him the first pick for working on the 25th, and this year is no different. So, he sees TK on the 24th before Gwyenth flies in and it’s sweet and fun but he feels TK might want to spend it alone with him next year, the seriousness of their relationship starting to require that they create some traditions of their own, and the 25th on a full 24 hour shift and then the 26th he goes home to his parents. 
New Years comes along, it’s calm for him, he’s working the next day and he drinks sparkling water and coke for the whole evening they spend at Grace and Judd with the 126, Carlos has become an unofficial member of. He’s grown close with them all since starting dating TK and it’s not unusual for him to get his own invitation to stuff, sometimes even without TK. Mateo sends him texts asking dating advice, Paul will ask questions about cooking and recipes and he and Marjan have taken up playing padel together. So he’s definitely part of the group for sure and it’s lovely being surrounded by people who know each other so well that there are almost more alcohol free options than there are actual alcohol, food from all sorts of different countries and traditions and a warm atmosphere around as they watch the fireworks together out on the deck, celebrating the coming of a new year.
He drives TK home to Owen pretty early and TK gives him sad puppy dog eyes before he drags him into the back of the car for some light fooling around and very heated kissing that would definitely not have been approved of at Judd and Grace’s party before he regretfully has to leave if he wants to be able to work at all come morning. The choice of staying over is so tempting but Carlos knows he would struggle too much the next day when he would be forced to leave a very hot and cute and snuggly boyfriend while he has to work. So he kisses the love of his life passionately on the street, so much so that he looks completely dazed and confused when Carlos pulls away and tells him he loves him and that he promises to make it up to him the next time they are off together and TK, with his stern face on, makes him promise that he will.
But Carlos has been working a lot this winter, he knows, it's a habit, leftover from a long time of being single that he’s had a hard time shaking. He doesn’t like winter, it’s the only time of the year he’s usually always felt lonely, with all the holidays coming up being forced into social gatherings where questions are always asked whether he’s single or not and it used to grate endlessly on his nerves. And if he’s sometimes taken shifts on the days after or on the actual days to avoid the questions, well no one has to know.
Only this year he’s been so distracted that he’s forgotten he’s already accepted all these shifts almost a year before, before he was officially together with TK the way they are now, and the unfortunate result of this is that they have have become completely unmatched in their schedules which makes TK look more and more sad every time he has to leave him to go to work. It’s making Carlos’ sad too but because he’s worked so much recently, he’s made sure to switch his shifts around with a colleague so he’ll get three days off in a row, matching them all up with TK’s, and that’s what he thinks about every time he feels guilty about it.
But growing close with TK’s friends also means that he gets 15 texts in a row from Mateo, and five calls that have him promising to come to his party the Friday after the new year, because that’s his life now. And of course he’s late, because nothing ever goes his way and he’s barely had the time to change and shower when at home, basically just throwing on black jeans and a white t-shirt hoping that it will do and that he won’t be completely underdressed for the occasion. It turns out that isn’t the actual issue.  
The issue is that apparently TK has had the time to choose clothes that make him look absolutely sinfully hot in his ridiculously tight jeans and pink button down that has one too many buttons left undone, teasing skin, his chain as always around his neck, part of his flower tattoo on exhibition for too many to see. Not that Carlos is the jealous type, but his boyfriend is attractive as hell and he’s definitely not the only one who has noticed that.
Which introduces the other issue.
“Oh my god babe, I’m so relieved you are here. I feel old.” TK declares absolutely horrified by having spent the majority of the evening in company with people who are probably old enough to drink because Carlos is not looking forward to arresting anyone, but with the majority of them being under 25, maybe?
But he agrees, everyone is so millennial here, like too millennial even for his tastes that they are all feeling much more like zoomers than anything, yes Carlos spends time on the internet. And he does have a younger sister that age and has spent too much time on calls where he’s been forced to talk to people under 20 feeling very much like they are speaking a completely different language to him. But being here Carlos realises that Mateo is actually a few years younger than him which has never even crossed his mind before, but standing here in Mateo’s new apartment he just moved into it’s becoming clear that Carlos with his 27 years is actually old in comparison to this.
Marjan looks to be having the time of her life though, looking slick and cool in her completely black awesome outfit, having a group of people wrapped around her fingers as they seem to hang onto every word, oohing and aaahing at the right places while Paul is playing on the ps5, him, Marjan and TK got Mateo for Christmas slaying everyone who dares playing against him. TK looks absolutely appaled at having been forced into the company of these people for the past few hours that he’s already been here, and it’s hilarious because sometimes riling TK up and annoying him is a little fun, but Carlos is the best thank you very much and he asks if TK wants to go have sex on Mateo’s bed in retaliation and TK’s eyes grow mischevous by the very idea. 
“Yes, I love that.” He’s much happier already and he’s positively glowing, his slight addiction to misbehaving becoming evidently clear. Marjan stops both of them, wrapping her arms around their shoulders harshly.
“No screwing in probie’s bed.” She chides and TK’s mood sours immediately. 
“Marjan, come on, look at this. I’m too old to be here, I want to have some fun.”
“Perfect, we’re playing truth or dare, you’ll love it.”
TK groans.
But they are forced into the game nonetheless because Paul joins too and when Paul and Marjan’s plans align they are a goddamn unstoppable force and there really isn’t anything you can do to escape it.
So, forced into a game Carlos hasn't played since probably high school is either going to become absolutely disastrous or the most fun he’s had in ages, he hasn’t made up his mind yet. Mateo joins as well and a bunch of other people Carlos is never going to learn the names of join together in the kitchen, TK being well TK sitting on top of the kitchen island, cross legged and leaning against Carlos who is sitting on one of the bar stools, his arms securely around him, sipping a really shitty beer someone gave him before the game started. 
When a girl called Emily gets dared to call an ex of hers to tell him the rules of Monopoly even TK can’t help but laugh because she absolutely kills it, finishing the call with all of them applauding her because that was some Boss as shit to do, even Carlos respects it. 
Lots of the people around them keep shooting lingering glances at him and TK, not judgeful ones, Carlos would probably fake threaten to arrest them for prejudice and discrimination if he felt any hostility, no, they are curious, kind, a little intruding maybe, but it’s done out of an eagerness, maybe at seeing a gay couple so openly happy and relaxed together that they can’t help themselves. Or maybe they’re checking them out and Carlos will accept that as a compliment without it getting to his head. When he leans forward and kisses the back of TK’s head it's obvious it’s become too much for the people around them and a guy called Fred bursts at the seams.
“TK.” He says. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth I guess.” He says nonchalantly. 
“Who tops and who bottoms in the relationship?”
There’s a collective groan in the room and Fred blushes, obviously unaware of his mistake but seems to have enough awareness at least to realise he’s done something stupid. Carlos is just waiting for TK to give the guy a totally inappropriate answer exposing their sex life to a bunch of people who can only dream of ever having as amazing sex as they are having, yeah it’s not nice bragging, but doing it inside of his head where no one can hear isn’t hurting anyone, but it’s not TK who answers, it’s Mateo, beating TK to it. 
“That’s a stupid question Fred, rooted in outdated gender roles while it also reinforces false heteronormative ideas of feminintiy and masculinty onto sex. The idea that you have to be dominant or submissive just because you like to give or receive is just ridiculous, because even you should be aware that depending on the mood, the time or whatever you’re not going to just enjoy one single thing, and if you do, then you’ve clearly only had terrible sex.”
The room grows silent, Carlos' eyes widening as TK holds back his laughter.
“Yeah that, what Mateo said Fred.” TK forces out, coughs to hide how he’s close to absolutely losing it while the room erupts into loud cheering and whistling making both Mateo and Fred blush.
“Daaaamn probie, who would have thought you actually listen when we tell you stuff huh? Good job.” Marjan says while Paul looks like a proud father, absolutely beaming. TK takes pity on Fred who is looking a little dejected.
“Just find yourself a partner that you feel safe and loved by and do some experimenting to see what you like, but make sure to set boundaries too, and you’ll be good to go. Also if you’re straight, respect women, they are the best thing we have.” Fred looks a little relieved as someone beside him pulls him into a rough friendly hug and they move on. 
The game continues and soon everyone has forgotten Fred’s little mistake and the game grows louder and rowdier, Paul drawing the short straw of getting dared to smell everyone’s feet in the room and rank them. 
“Carlos, truth or dare.” These kids are too thrifty for Carlos, he aint getting dared into something stupid.
“Truth.” He settles for. Lily’s eyes land on TK and she smiles sweetly.
“Favourite and least favorite thing about TK.” TK turns his head and grins as Carlos sticks his tongue out.
“Least favorite thing is his messiness and proneness to forgetful spells, you see kids turning 27 can make you a bit forgetful, don't forget to be kind to him tonight.” It sets the whole room off into roaring laughter and Carlos chuckles a little pleased at his own joke as TK glares without any heat, huffs and rolls his eyes. He makes sure to wrap his arms tighter around him.
“My favourite thing about him is his unwavering strength, his big heart and even though he’s struggled and failed and failed again he never gives up on trying to do better. It’s simple, I love him, so it’s easy to love every part of him.” 
Loud AAAWWWWs erupts all over the room and TK’s flush is high on his cheeks as he leans towards Carlos, gently kissing him. A girl sends Lily a look of fondness, both him and TK catching it before she averts her eyes.
“I love you.” TK whispers, only meant for Carlos, and his heart swells from hearing the words for the 100th time. It never seizes to stop taking the breath out of him. 
The game continues, someone making the mistake of daring Marjan to eat a spoon of hot sauce, her face not moving an inch as she swallows it without trouble, Mateo to tell everyone who he’d like to make out with in the room then being dared to do it by Carlos because she looks to be a little interested in Mateo too, while Carlos gets dared to behave like the person to his right which has the whole room dying and the acting lessons he took in high school coming in handy. It doesn’t surprise Carlos that this happens because these people are relentless but then, TK gets dared to give him a goddamn lap dance, the attention bouncing off TK in waves, his elation and cheekiness making him look way too hot while Carlos tries very hard to think of the pile of dishes at home in his sink to distract from not making good on his earlier promises and dragging TK away to Mateo’s room and get laid immediately. He sends Paul a hateful glare who looks smug. 
By the time someone asks the question about TK’s flower tattoo on his chest Carlos has actually gotten a little tipsy, and the youngsters, which most of them aren’t really, because some he’s realised are as old as he is, have grown a lot on him. He’s having a very good time.
“What’s the story behind the flower tattoo, if there is one?” TK leans forward, eyes mischievous.
“It’s funny you should ask.” He begins and Carlos silently groans. 
“So, the story begins when I was in Thailand, gap year and all that, I am sure you’ve been at that point in your life?” Some nod, TK has the attention of the whole room and he grows more and more confident, comfortable with everyone’s attention on him. 
God, this is going to be funny.
“We were partying at my hostel, we got real drunk and I went home with a dude that I had met who were staying at a different place than I was. We were both really drunk, we fooled around in his room, you know what happened next, no details for you dirty buggers. Anyway, in the middle of the night I want a snack so I leave him sleeping. Only that I am still so drunk that I forget that to be able to get back to his room you have to have a key card to get the elevator to take you to the floors. So, only in boxers I take the elevator to the ground floor and try to get the vending machine to give me some chocolate, without any money. I stand there clicking every button I can find, when there’s suddenly a cat on the lobby desk. So drunk as I am my attention is immediately on the cat who wasn’t as much in a cuddly mood as I was.”
Carlos is not drunk enough to buy a word coming out of TK’s mouth, but he’s telling it with such conviction, hands motioning around, having completely captivated the room’s attention that even Marjan looks unsure whether to believe this or not.
“The cat runs away, I forget my hunger and I start to make my way back up to, Simon, that was the guy’s name. I try to find my way back up there, only the elevator doesn’t work because I don’t have a keycard so I’m screwed but of course too drunk to realise this. The elevator keeps going up and down though as people come and go and I’m there just in my boxers like a total loser. Basically someone must have thought that I was a prostitute because someone called the police who came to get me. They were so friendly by the way and so sweet, and there I am in my boxers out on the street so drunk I can barely remember my own name trying to answer questions about what my phone number is and where I live.”
He pauses for dramatic effect and Carlo bites his lip, hard and discreetly so no one can see how deranged he thinks this story is. Everyone seems to want to know more so TK pushes on.
“I get escorted out, given a jacket by someone to cover up and then they tell me that they will drive me home. While they are driving I see a tattoo shop that’s open 24/7 and I tell them to drop me there and say something like I live upstairs with the owner and show a photo of a friend who definitely isn't Australian or own any goddamn tattoo shop owner but they buy it. Or they were probably just tired of me, so they drop me off there and I insist I will be fine. Outside there’s a group of people, all of them clearly drunk. I join them, you know making friends while drunk it’s like the easiest thing in the world and then we go into the shop together, me in my boxers and Sydney PD jacket to go with and then have the massive flower tattoo made on my chest while my new friends cheer me on, pay for it too because I have no money or phone, drink some more beer inside of the shop and then we all share a cab back to the same hostel we were staying at and the morning after I woke up with the biggest hangover I have ever experienced, no phone, no clothes and a massive tattoo on my chest I barely remember getting.“ He finishes and the room has been rendered speechless.
TK is preening, loving what he’s just done. The whole room erupts into loud chatter soon enough and none of them can really make sense of the story and alternate between completely buying it and not buying it at all. 
Carlos leans forward, nipping gently at TK’s ear before he whispers.
“Babe, I want the actual story for the tattoo.”
“What? You don’t believe what I just told you?” He asks, sweetly, innocently and Carlos snorts. 
“Sure, and I am related to Lady Gaga.” TK laughs, turns his head and kisses him.
“I’ll tell you later.” He promises and Carlos pecks him gently on the lips. The room’s moved on and the game continues for a while longer before the crowd disrupts, Marjan and TK set on matchmaking Lily together with the same girl that looked at her earlier while Paul and Carlos get roped into an armwrestling contest that he’s going to feel in his muscles tomorrow for sure. 
By the time someone decides they’re going out clubbing Carlos is fairly drunk, a comfortable buzzing just underneath his skin and he’s having a good time, he isn’t going to say no to dancing. TK finds him, sneaking an arm around him, refusing to let him go, which makes it much harder to get his jacket and shoes on and get downstairs and out to the uber that’s waiting. They must look slightly ridiculous like this but no one is paying attention to them and Carlos only has eyes for TK anyway, so nothing matters than him. 
They share a cab with Paul and two other people Carlos cannot remember the names of but seems to be really engaged with Paul about some book they both love and Carlos tunes them out, nuzzling TK’s hair who is still wrapped around him. TK looks up to meet his eyes, smile soft and eyes alluring and lips plumb and extremely kissable. Carlos licks his lips.
“Can you two at least wait until we’re in the club so I don’t have to watch you suck each other’s faces off right here?” Carlos huffs and TK swats at Paul, not getting too far away from Carlos, his arms still wrapped around him. 
What can he say? He’s drunk, in love and he has a stupidly hot boyfriend, he might be losing his grip on appropriate behaviour when TK is this near and this intoxicating. But maybe, just maybe he should stop drinking for the rest of the evening, especially if he wants to get laid when he gets home. 
They get to the club and both TK and him lose the rest of their friends. Not that it matters much anyway, all he has eyes for is TK who doesn’t hesitate to take charge, pulling Carlos towards the dancefloor with such ease it’s hard not to be completely enticed by him. The music is loud vibrating through Carlos’ body and TK pulls him close, finally without having to care about other people, letting go of everything that was holding him back before, finally having TK all to himself.
TK looks to be in his right goddamn element, alive, happy, body moving with the freedom of being safe and in love and allowed to exist freely. Carlos barely even grapples with the urge to pull him close, he just does and kisses him, passionately, bruising, messing up his hair and pulling his hips close to his own. TK hisses against his mouth but he gives as good as he gets and he kisses back fervently, intensely with brutal vigor and Carlos loses his footing, it’s so good. They’re being so indecent right now, but there’s something positively addictive being with TK like this, grinding on each other, kissing without holding back, loving each other boldly and loudly.
It’s all Carlos has ever wanted.
TK pulls away, he honestly looks absolutely wrecked, way too good for Carlos to be sane about anything.
“Baby.” He rasps in Carlos’ ear, voice hoarse and broken and it goes straight to Carlos’ dick, he hisses in response. God he’s so gone. TK, the little devil kisses his neck, lips attached to the exposed skin of his t-shirt, licks his skin, pulls it into his mouth and Carlos bites at his lip, hard, pulling TK closer to him.
They are going to have to slow down otherwise they are going to get kicked out.
“Baby.” He says, sees a shiver go through TK as he clutches at Carlos’ hair, messing it up completely. “We’re going to have to slow down.”
“Why?” TK whines.
“Because we’re not having sex in the bathroom…” But even as he says it the image of TK on his knees in front of him is a little too much not to be very tempting. TK bites at his earlobe, the fucking tease and sucks it into his mouth.
“Fine, fine.” He agrees, pulls back and kisses Carlos, still sinfully hot, but a little more controlled and appropriate than before. He pulls back, smiles beautifully and Carlos knows he’s just never ever going to love someone the way he loves TK.
But they slow down a little, and somehow find Paul who points at Mateo making out with the girl from earlier, Marjan is at the bar looking mischievous and Carlos wonders what she has in mind. He finds that out when she walks towards them, glitter in her hands. She blows some onto Paul who swoops her up spinning her around as she laughs delightedly and then smears some onto Carlos’ face. He wipes parts of it off, but it sticks to his face like glue because of the sweat, and wipes it onto TK’s face, pulling him close to kiss him to stop his squeaking and swatting. 
Mateo comes and joins them and they spend the rest of the night dancing and shouting and laughing and it’s liberating, a different kind of high to be out with friends who you love, who accept you and who you can be yourself with 100%. They are all going to spend weeks trying to get the glitter out of their hair though, Carlos knows as much.
At 5 in the morning he and TK stumble through his door, both of them unable to keep their hands off each other after behaving for hours. Finally they are completely alone. 
…..
Carlos wakes up the next day when TK starts to move around in their bed. He hears him leave the room and Carlos groans, throws an arm across his face, hiding from the light streaming in through the opened curtains. He has a headache, not just due to being hungover, but more because of clubbing for hours with loud music, staying up for most of the night and probably because as much as he doesn’t like to admit it, he’s nearing 30. Being out clubbing all night takes much more of a toll on his body than it used to. 
TK comes back, puts down what Carlos thinks is a glass of water on the nightstand before he crawls back into bed, Carlos pulling him close, snuggling up against him as soon as he’s back in bed. TK huffs but doesn’t object as Carlos noses at his neck, feeling TK run a hand through his hair.
He’s sore all over, from the arm wrestling, from the dancing and from the insane sex they had last night. And he’s probably wearing TK’s boxers by mistake, because they feel a little too tight on him so they are definitely not his. It’s not comfortable but he doesn’t have the energy to care.
“Morning.” TK croaks out, voice hoarse from all of the screaming. He hums, not really ready yet to be a human. He’s allowed to lie for a moment in bed, peaceful, but the thing with TK is that sometimes he’s inhumane in the mornings, taking after Owen undoubtedly, with his uncanny ability to just be awake. He can definitely be a sleepy little brat, but when he isn’t, once he’s up, he’s up. 
“There’s glitter everywhere.” TK comments, smile evident in his voice. Carlos forces his eyes to open, blinks a few times and looks around the room, sees that there is indeed glitter on the bed, clothes lying all around the bedroom, pillows on the ground, the bottle of lube still open, leaking onto the hardwood floor and the mattress has been moved, lying halfway across the bed. 
He groans, shifts onto his back pushing his unruly curls away from his face and rubs at his eyes, trying to feel a little bit more awake.
“Here.” TK says and hands him the glass of water. He thankfully takes a sip, moves the pillow more comfortably behind his head before he closes his eyes again, ready to sleep for a few more hours. TK huffs, shuffles around for a moment, unhappy, before he comes closer to Carlos, nudging his legs apart so he can settle between them. Carlos opens his eyes again and moves to make more room for him. TK immediately stops moving and settles, hands unconsciously stroking across Carlos’ chest.
TK has a pillow streak across his cheek, blue and pink glitter still on his face and his hair really is messy from Carlos pulling on it last night, and yet managing to look way too good for someone who has been up most of the night partying.
“Hi.” He says, voice hoarse too. He coughs to clear his throat a few times and TK’s mouth twitches.
“We broke the room last night.” He comments dryly, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I’m sure it was mostly you.”
“The mattress was all you.” He smirks and Carlos snorts. 
“Yeah I definitely feel that today, and a little like I’ve been hit by a brick…” TK laughs as Carlos struggles with words, not sure how to make his brain work.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“I hate to say this but I am getting too old to party like this.” TK laughs, swats his chest.
“Don’t say that. You’re making me feel ancient.”
“You seem to be handling it a little better than I am.” He mutters and TK snorts.
“Well I didn’t engage in an arm wrestling contest that was just an excuse to flex.”
None of them mention the very obvious reason as to why TK’s is feeling better than Carlos is. Not that they don’t talk about TK’s addiction, they do, sometimes a lot, sometimes less and sometimes not at all. It’s definitely become a fixed point in their relationship, it’s impossible for it to not be one when you are as serious as they are. But they don’t have to tiptoe around the subject anymore either, it’s become as normalised as it can be between them, even getting to the point where TK will sometimes make a crude joke about it that should have Carlos chiding him, that more often than not makes him snort and pull him into a hug instead.
And TK’s whole life, the very core of who he is is not defined by his substance abuse and addiction or his anxiety and issues, so their relationship isn’t either. More often than not they have the exact same problems any couple their age has and it’s nice it has gotten to that point after having had a really rough start to everything.
“What can I say? I’m hot and muscly.” He jokes, flexes his bicep for show as TK snorts, swats him a little harder than before.
“Well you beat everyone in the room who dared to go up against you, that’s not bad.”
“Thank you.” TK rolls his eyes without heat and leans forward to gently peck his lips. 
“You have really bad morning breath.” TK observes, pulls back, grimaces in disappointment and Carlos snorts.
“I’m not surprised.” He lifts his head, looks around the room and then changes his mind, lies back down again. TK lifts an eyebrow.
“Just thinking whether I have the energy to get up and clean, I don’t.”
“You’ve earnt a morning in.”
“I think so too.” He agrees and TK huffs.
They’re quiet for a moment, enjoying just being in each other’s company after being apart for a while with their mismatched schedules. It looks like it might be sunny today too and Carlos can probably agree to take a walk, he’s sure TK is going to suggest it. 
They’re both extroverts, but only to an extent. TK is learning that he actually likes spending nights in instead of going out to dinner or clubbing while Carlos has learnt the enjoyment of downtime as he can struggle with not knowing when and how to take a break or relax, always feeling like he needs to to do something, to be on his feet, to move, always edging closer to a burnout with the rhythm he’s going in. In that regard they are quite similar and relaxing together, shutting their brains off in a coping mechanism that isn’t sex (yes that works too but it’s not exactly a sustainable option) has become both a challenge and easier with time. 
So they have taken to walking on the weekends or the days where they have time off, to talk about the hard stuff, the big life changing stuff or the small and silly things. There’s something with walking in nature that makes all the hard things in life feel easier, easier to detangle the messes and feel like everything will be okay. His ten thousand daily steps shoot in record each weekend when they keep pushing themselves to find new paths, or walk on the old ones, stopping for coffee when the weather allows it, basking in the sun and each other. It’s very old retired couple of them, but even Paul and Mateo’s teasing had come to a stop when Carlos had smacked a massive list of benefits in the group chat to shut them up and asked them to come with them instead. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. But it’s definitely a habit that’s just his and TK’s, carved out from love and finding ways to grow together. 
“Sooo…” Carlos says, teasing and TK lifts an eyebrow and leans forward, his elbows resting on Carlos’ chest.
“The tattoo story from yesterday, that was a load of horseshit.” TK grins.
“That was hilarious, I wish someone would have filmed it.”
“I’m sure you would, you sneaky little monster.”
“I think you mean genius.”
“Sure, sure.” TK laughs and there are fewer things Carlos delights in doing more than making him happy. Ever since they got official he’s decided that it’s a daily goal, a promise to keep being happy together, and so far he’s kept it up.
Carlos lifts an eyebrow.
“This tattoo thing is becoming a recurring thing I see?”
“Ah, you’ve seen through my genius plans.” TK snorts.
“This is the first one I ever did.” Carlow grows serious and unconsciously reaches a hand forward, stroking along the tattoo on display.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, my dad wouldn’t let me until I turned 18 and I did some real begging and convincing to try and change his mind but he always said no. He settled for 18 because he has one himself which he did when he was 16 and was a lifeguard. It used to be a koi fish but he’s changed it a lot since then and it’s a bit of a mess. ‘A wonderful blob, just like his mind’ that’s his own words.” Carlos chuckles. 
“Ah, so why a flower?”
“I don’t even know if it has a meaning or anything, I've just always associated flowers and plants with life and natural beauty and it gives me a sense of serenity, grounds me a bit more in reality when everything is uncertain. And you know me, a lot of things have been uncertain in my life.” 
“Yeah, but considering what you’ve been through it’s amazing how far you’ve come, you know this right?”
“Yeah, I’m starting to learn that.” He smiles, a little shyly. “And life is finally starting to feel good again, like this is how it’s supposed to be and I feel safe with you.”
Carlos feels his eyes soften and his heart beat fiercely in his chest and he loves TK so much. 
“I feel safe with you too.” He whispers and TK nods, like he understands, eyes soft and a sweet little smile at the edge of his lips as he melts in Carlos’ arms, like it’s finally clicked for him too that they really do belong together. Carlos isn’t very religious or superstitious but from the moment he met TK, when he was guarded and on edge and only wanted sex, knew that they would be good together, that there was something about TK that would manage to ground all of Carlos’ faults and flaws and that once they would be un equal ground, they would create something good and beautiful and stable out of something momentarily broken. 
Because TK isn’t broken or damaged beyond repair, he never was and he isn’t now either.
He is the love of Carlo’s life.
He isn’t superstitious but he knows this.
“For someone claiming to be such a city boy you sure do have a lot of earthy and nature themed tattoos.” He comments, gently caressing TK’s cheek, hoping that all he feels for this man can be read in his face. When TK’s breath hitches he thinks he knows, or that he’s seen something he wasn’t expecting.
Carlos pulls him into a peck and TK whines.
“Don’t you have a breath mint or something so we can kiss properly?” He complains making Carlos chuckle. 
He throws a look at the nightstand and TK grumberly climbs over him, poking Carlos hard on the nose which he expects is on purpose before he opens the drawer and pulls out a small box of tic taks. He pops it into his own mouth, climbs back on top of Carlos and reaches down, kissing him salaciously, loudly and gives the breath mint over to Carlos who honestly almost swallows it whole his whole body reacting so instantly to TK it short circuits his brain. TK grinds down and Carlos groans, pushing up for more friction and TK chuckles, pleased by the reaction, against his mouth before he throws the duvet to the side so he can get more access. 
Suddenly Carlos doesn’t have a headache anymore.
…..
They do make it out of bed eventually and they clean the mess up together. Then Carlos takes a shower and when he comes back TK has made banana pancakes and Carlos realises just how hungry he is. He definitely does the majority of the cooking in the relationship but TK will surprise him from time to time by making something he knows really well, and he seems to have taken to breakfast wood with an almost natural ease, spending a long time of this relationship trying to perfect his banana pancakes.
And Carlos likes cooking so he really doesn’t mind that he does it a lot. He really was brought up with food being the ingredient that solved things within his family. It could be a forgiving gesture or a loving gesture and it was always a caring gesture, even when fights got big and words were said and Carlos was convinced the family was going to split into sides that would never heal, but food was the one constant. He’s taken that with him and it’s his way of showing TK how much he adores him, hearing him try something of Carlos’ and like it, face lighting up as the spices and flavours mix together perfectly is an incredible feeling.
So instead TK is observant, always makes him tea the way he likes it, comes by the station to give him coffee if he’s nearby, stacks up on the protein powder Carlos uses when he does go grocery shopping for them and buys him lunch when they are out in town, obsessed with trying new places. The best thing though is that Carlos’ kitchen has for months now been stacked up on things he would never buy himself, like the fancy hazelnut coffee syrup that’s now found a permanent place by his coffee maker, one of the empty shelves in his cupboard that he’s never found anything to keep there that TK fills up with sweets and snacks and chocolate. Or the vegan protein bars that are now a permanent fixture in a cupboard beside the oven. 
TK hasn’t moved in officially but he barely goes home these days, once or twice every second week and only more often if TK and his schedules don’t align at all. 
Carlos should probably ask him about moving in soon. 
“Hi baby.” TK says and Carlos steps close, pecks him lovingly on the lips before he steals a piece of the pancake, TK swatting his hand away.
“Hey.” Carlos pecks him again before he goes to get some plates and set the table for them. TK comes carrying the plate with pancakes shortly after and Carlos makes himself a coffee because TK when he does drink it, it’s not usually in the mornings, and sighs happily as he swallows down the first sip and then they sit down and eat together. 
Carlos is living on cloud 9 at the moment, he’s spent the majority of last night dancing with the love of his life, the morning was full of even more sex and now they’re having breakfast together, the thrill of it moves through him like a current, enfulging him into a warm blanket of happiness. And Carlos really truly is happy. 
TK seems to sense it too, he keeps sending Carlos smiles over the table, hooking his ankle over his underneath it, rarely breaking eye contact. When they’re done TK comes forward, sitting down in Carlos’ lap, wrapping his arms around him. 
“Hi you.” Carlos says, putting his arms around TK’s waist, pulling him closer to him. 
“Hi.” TK whispers, pushes a hand through Carlos’ damp hair, messing up the curls even worse.
“I really like your hair like this.” TK muses, continues with the action, sending shivers down his spine. 
“I’ve noticed.”
“Why don’t you keep your hair like this more often?”
“If you had curly hair you would know.” Carlos snorts. He cuts it regularly, hates it when it gets too long, it’s much harder to style and he wants his hair to be out of his way when he works so he tends to sleep with hair stuff in his hair when he goes to sleep, it takes him much shorter to get ready in the mornings that way.
“Maybe.” TK agrees, pulls at the strands a little, enjoying the sounds he’s bringing out of Carlos.
“This has been nice, I’ve missed you a lot recently.”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’ve missed you too.” He promises.
“Do you really have to work tonight?” TK sighs looking dejected.
“Actually no, not tonight, I switched my shifts around.”
“Really?” He looks so happy right now, eyes alive and sweet. 
“Yeah.” He rubs his nose against TK’s who huffs but returns the movement before Carlos kisses his nose lovingly.
“So, what should we do with the rest of the day then?” He wonders. TK shrugs.
“Nothing, it doesn’t matter what, I just want to spend it with you.”
Carlos smiles. 
“Me too.”
And so they do, taking advantage of the day fully, Carlos loving every minute of it.
45 notes · View notes
untaemedqueen · 4 years
Text
Bon Voyage (M)
Idol!Jimin x Reader
WordCount: 6k
Genre: Smut, Fluff
Warnings: Virgin!Jimin, Needy!Jimin, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Unprotected Sex (We Know The Rules Already), Choking
A/N: OKAY ALL BECAUSE OF SOME FUCKING AB POST WOW WTF
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The night air was cool against your hot skin. The alcohol in your blood keeping your body warm as you waltz through the streets of Venice. Humming gently, you step on the cobblestone street with not a care in the world. You had quit your job, saved up your money and decided to travel. You always wanted to go somewhere romantic, so Venice was a great first choice. You giggle before moving out of the way as a vespa passes you by. Venice was beautiful at night, the sound of lively chatter and street music makes you feel alive. Your black sundress rippling as you step back into the street. It was so free here, so exceptionally perfect. 
You hold your hand up apologetically to a car as you cross the road quickly, your body smacking into another as you jump on the curb. 
"Sorry!" You cheer before giggling and looking up at the person. 
"That's okay." The man's small eyes scrunching up into half moons as he gives you a big smile. He had on a straw hat, denim button up shirt and white shorts. It fit him perfectly. He was cute, and not in the 'Wow, I'm drunk so anyone is cute' way. He was handsome. So, with your cheeks turning pink you smile once more before bowing your head to him. 
"See ya!" You say with a giggle before walking down the road towards the busking music. 
You stop in front of a busker, sitting on the bench as you tap your sandaled foot to the rhythm of her guitar. Her voice was melodic and beautiful, your eyes closing as you hum to her music. 
"Oh! Hello again!" You hear from your right and you turn your head to the Asian man you had run into not too long ago. 
"Hello!" You smile at him as he sits down next to you. 
"You like music?" He asks, setting down his camera and putting his hands in his lap. 
"Yes! I love music!" You say before laughing, his broken English is very cute. 
"Me too. Me too." You smirk before looking up as the song ends. Your clap happily before pulling out some money and tossing it into the girl's guitar case. 
"You're on vacation?" You ask the Asian boy, his teeth biting at his plush bottom lip before tilting his head. 
"Va-ca-tion?" You nod before marrying his action. 
"Trip. You on trip?" 
"Ahhh! Yes!" He says before laughing, his hand flying to his mouth as he giggles. His laugh was maybe even more beautiful than the music you were sitting here listening to. 
"Where are you from?" 
"Korea!" He says before pulling money out of his wallet. 
"I speak some!" You say in Korean making him go wide eyed. He takes off his blue tinted glasses before laughing. 
"Wow! You're so good!" He says giving you a thumbs up, his white teeth shining in the dimly lit lighting of the street. 
"No." You say with a laugh shaking both of your hands at him. 
"Yes! Good!" He says in English. You sit for a while listening to the music before sighing. 
"I'm Jimin!" You look back over at him before putting your hand over your heart. 
"I'm Y/N." "Nice to meet you!" You hum in agreement before smirking. "Same here." 
"Are you on vacation?" Jimin asks as the girl's guitar case finally closes. You had been sitting here for a long time, making small talk with this handsome boy. 
"Yes! I am visiting." He smirks before looking up as someone calls his name. 
"Aish." He mumbles before grabbing his camera and bag. 
"My manager is calling me. Y/N, it was fun!" He holds out his hand and you smile before shaking it. 
"See you later." You wave as he jumps up and skips over to his manager and another young looking boy. His head turns back to you as he waves once more before being greeted by a camera crew. 
"Oh? He must be someone important." You mumble before standing up and clapping your hands. He's so handsome, of course he would be someone important.
"What was that about?" Jeongguk asks Jimin as they walk down the road. 
"Y/N? I ran into her. She's cool. Speaks Korean and everything." 
"And she doesn't know who we are?" Jeongguk asks before putting down his camera. 
"She didn't seem to. She was just...normal." Jeongguk hums before elbowing his hyung gently. 
"You thought she was pretty, huh?!" Jimin chuckles before putting on his glasses. 
"Yeah, she was pretty." He admits before entering the rented house the group shares.
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"We should go get breakfast and then meet back up at the house at 11." Namjoon tells everyone as the crew pushes bags out of the way. 
"Free time?" Hoseok asks loudly in English scrubbing his face with face wash as he peaks out of the bathroom. 
"Yes! Free time!" Namjoon calls back before laughing, "Okay! Taehyung want to get food with me?" Jimin asks cutely grabbing his sunglasses from the living room table. 
"Yeah sure, where do you want to go?" Taehyung grabs his hand bag before smiling at Jimin. 
"We'll just walk around and find a place." Taehyung nods before opening the door. "Sounds good."
Jimin jumps off of the curb before pointing at a restaurant, "How about this place? Andiamo?" Taehyung shrugs before picking his camera up to his eye and snapping a photo. The stone work on the front of the restaurant was inviting, 
"Sure!" Taehyung gives Jimin a box smile as he takes off his hat. 
"Two, please." Jimin says quietly in English. 
"Inside or outside?" The waitress questions as a large gust of wind blows picking up sand and dirt from in between the cobblestones and berating both of the boys legs. 
"Inside." They say at the same time.
The inside of the restaurant was gorgeous, all trimmings painted gold as pearlescent fixtures hung from the ceilings. 
"Wah." Taehyung marvels before taking a picture. 
"So pretty." Jimin says before putting his stuff down in the seat next to his. Taehyung sits across from Jimin opening up the menu before tilting his head. 
"It's in Italian." He mumbles before taking a sharp breath between his teeth of uncertainty. 
"Following me?" The voice has Jimin's head springing up before smiling widely. Your body angled around your chair as you cross your arms. 
"Hi again." Jimin says before laughing. Taehyung looks up confused before smirking. This is the girl Jeongguk was telling him about. 
"She's pretty." Taehyung mutters before looking back down at his menu. 
"She speaks Korean." Jimin whispers through clenched teeth making you smile. Taehyung buries his face deeper into the menu before cringing. 
"I think you're following me, Jimin." You quip flirtatiously before picking up your glass of champagne. Jimin chuckles before shaking his head closing the menu. 
"Just a happy coincidence." Taehyung perks up as Jimin speaks Korean, curious at how well you would speak. 
"So it would seem." You reply in his native tongue making Taehyung smile. You were good, better than good. 
"Would you join us?" Taehyung asks loudly, turning his head. Jimin's small eyes almost becoming saucers as he looks at his best friend. 
"Taehy-" 
"Sure!" You say happily before standing up and grabbing your menu. 
"Oh my God." Jimin mumbles fanning at his face with his menu as Taehyung pulls his handbag off of the chair next to him. He was way too outgoing for his own good, or so Jimin thinks. 
"I'm going to sit here." You tell the waitress in Italian as she passes by. She gives you a nod and you sit down before shooting back the rest of your champagne. 
"You speak Italian, too?" Taehyung asks impressed as he leans back in his chair. You hum in agreement before opening up your menu. 
"Can you help us read this?" Jimin asks with a laugh, your eyes crinkling cutely as you nod to him.
"YO BRO!" You hear loudly as Taehyung picks up a piece of bread. Jeongguk stops short as he enters the restaurant with Yoongi and Jin. 
"Yo bro!" Taehyung says happily before high fiving Jeongguk. 
"Yo Y/N!" Jeongguk cheers happily extending his hand. Jimin puts his hand to his forehead embarrassed as you high five Jeongguk confused. 
"You know BTS?!" Jin asks loudly, high fiving you. 
"Now I do." You answer with a giggle as he smiles down at you. 
"Do you want to sit with us?" Taehyung asks as Yoongi bows his head to you. You bow back before looking at Jimin. He takes a sip of his champagne before looking up at you, an embarrassed smile gracing his face. 
"No, don't worry. You guys eat. We'll get another table." 
"Y/N?" Jin whispers audibly to the youngest as they walk past the table. You hum in amusement as Jimin chuckles uncomfortably. 
"I'm going to get another drink." He says before lifting his hand for the waitress. 
"Hey Y/N?! Can you read this?" Jeongguk calls out loudly as you turn your head to the cute younger boy. 
"Yes." You reply in Korean standing up and walking over to them. 
Jimin slaps Taehyung's wrist embarrassed, to which Taehyung slaps Jimin back and it continues on like this for a few seconds before Jimin puts his forehead to the table. 
"Fucking embarrassing. Jin hyung is probably embarrassing me." He mumbles into the white table cloth. 
"She seems really nice." Taehyung comments as you laugh at something Yoongi says. His gummy smile radiating through the restaurant as you laugh. 
"She is nice. And, she's pretty. And, she speaks our language." Jimin tells his best friend before picking up his head. 
"And, she knows that I told Jeongguk about her because he called her name." Taehyung picks up his glass of Coke before leaning over the table to Jimin. 
"Hate to break it to you, but this is probably a one time thing. So you should soak it in as much as possible." Jimin sighs before nodding and running his fingers through his hair. "I should, right?" 
"Thanks, noona!" Jeongguk calls out to you as you sit back down at Jimin's table. You give him a thumbs up before grabbing your glass of champagne. 
"Oh. Noona, is it?" Taehyung asks with a laugh, you nod happily as the food is placed in front of you. 
"Wah!" Jimin cheers excited before grabbing his fork. 
"This looks so good!" Taehyung says as you pick up your utensils. 
"Gratzie." You tell the waitress before going to dig in. 
"Hey!" Taehyung calls loudly, making you stop as he pulls out his phone. 
"Oh. My bad." You laugh as he takes pictures of the food. 
"Okay. Eat up." He says before giving you a big box smile. 
"I'll eat it deliciously!" You say in Korean making Jimin smile. His hand falling on his cheek as he watches you cut your ravioli. 
"What're your plans for today?" Jimin asks, pushing his pasta around on the plate. 
"I don't know. Just letting the wind take me." You tell him, his brown orbs staring at yours before smirking. 
"Jin oppa told me you guys have free time later on tonight. Maybe we'll run into each other again." Jimin smiles as you call his oldest brother, oppa. You were so comfortable, he loves that. 
"Hopefully I get to see you." He was right, this was probably a random one time event. He should make the most of it. 
"I hope so, too." Taehyung smirks into his lobster before turning his head to his other brothers as they call your name. 
"Nice choice! Tastes delicious!" Yoongi calls to you making you smile.
Jimin sighs before fixing his hair again, if he does run into you tonight he wants to look perfect. "Bar hopping in Italy! So fun!" Yoongi cheers loudly coming out of his shared bedroom with Jeongguk in tow. 
"Behave yourselves, please. We don't need more footage like when Jimin was in Paris." Jimin's cheeks heat up pink at the mention of his escapades while they were on vacation. His eyes looking nervously at their manager before giving a small apologetic smile. 
"Don't worry, we'll be good." Jin says before putting on his tie. 
"Oh my God, hyung. Please. What the fuck are you wearing?!" Hoseok yells with a laugh as he throws on his Fila hoodie. Jin looks down at his mismatched attire, blue jeans, a pink and white striped shirt with a black tie and sandals. 
"What?! I'm fashion in it's very form." Jimin snorts before fixing his Balenciaga shirt and nodding at the long mirror on the wall. 
"Okay! Let's go!" He says putting his arm under Tae's as all seven boys shuffle out of the rented house.
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"Amoré." Yoongi calls out fixing his bucket hat before pointing at the bar down the street. 
"Okay!" Jimin was barely trudging along, he had expected to see you. He wore all brand new clothes, fixed his hair. He put on makeup and they've been bar hopping for three hours and you were nowhere to be found. 
"Maybe she left." Jeongguk says putting his arm around Jimin as they enter the next bar. 
"She would have told me this morning. She said she hoped to see me tonight." He could even hear the hurt in his voice as the thumping bar music enters his ears. The swell of the bass pumping through his ears. He sighs before walking over to the bar, his cheek landing on his hand as he flags over the bartender. 
"Whisky sour!" He yells in hopeless English. 
"What?!" The bartender yells back sticking their neck out. 
"Whisky sour!" Namjoon yells wrapping his arm around Jimin's shoulders. 
"Thanks, hyung." Why was Jimin so obsessed with the idea of seeing you again? He had seen you for the first time last night but you were so intriguing to him. You knew different languages, you had a beautiful smile. Maybe because it was the excitement of seeing you after his work hours. Or, maybe that it was such a spontaneous happenstance. And, spontaneous and idol do not go together. Jimin pulls out his wallet as a thin arm comes in between Namjoon and Jimin's heads. A credit card between the index and middle finger as the bartender places Jimin's drink in front of him. Jimin turns his head before smiling widely. 
"Jimin." You say with a smile as the bartender takes your credit card. 
"Y/N! Wow! Hi!" Namjoon smirks before slinking away, he gives Jimin a two thumbs up as he walks towards the others. Jimin looks you over, your gold tight fitting dress making his eyebrows quirk up as he smiles. 
"You look great." He says pointing at you. 
"Huh?!" You yell over the music. Jimin's hand mindlessly slinking around your waist as he leans into you. His lips mere centimeters away from your ear. 
"You look beautiful." You pull back with a smile before standing on the bar beneath the bar and leaning against the wooden bar. 
"Amaretto Sour!" You yell loudly as the bartender gives a thumbs up throwing the towel over his shoulder. 
"I was looking for you for like four hours." You tell Jimin before shoving his shoulder. His big smile widening, if that's even possible. 
"I was looking for you too!" He says as you nudge him with your hip. Jimin pulls out his wallet as you grab your credit card. 
"I got it." You allow him to pay for the drink before swaying to the rhythm of the music as you wait. Jimin steps back, obviously ogling you. Your dress landing mid-thigh and your cleavage was practically on display. Jimin sips his drink before smirking as you turn your head to him. You were beautiful, graceful and confident. 
"It's so loud in here." You yell to him as you grab your drink, your body turning and pressing to the bar as you cross your legs and take a sip. 
"Wanna go out to the garden?" Jimin asks pointing at the white wooden archway that seemed to lead to the backyard of the bar. "Sure!" 
The backyard was so much quieter, the thumping still vibrating through the floor underfoot but at least you and Jimin could hear each other. You sit down at the umbrella covered table as the rest of BTS floods out of the bar. 
"Fuck, it's so loud in there!" Hoseok yells looking back into the bar. Jimin sighs gently sitting down across from you. He wants time alone with you, he wants to actually speak to you, and get to know you. 
"Don't mind us!" Namjoon says as you take a sip of your drink. They sit on the other end of the backyard and Jimin looks back over at you. 
"They're always around." He tells you, making you smile. 
"They're nice! I like your group." Jimin smirks before sitting back in his chair.
"This is different... Being outside with a person. Drinking." He holds up his drink as you lean your cheek on your hand before nodding. 
"It's not something you can do often, huh?" He shakes his head viciously. 
"No way! I would get in so much trouble." "I don't want to get you in trouble." Jimin finds his hand grabbing yours as you go to stand. 
"You won't, stay." His small eyes staring up at yours as you smooth out the back of your dress before sitting down. 
"Shots!" Yoongi yells while bringing out a tray. Jimin turns his head before chuckling. 
"Y/N! Come on!" Yoongi says loudly, setting down the tray at your table. Jimin looks on in amusement as you grab the shot and turn your head before downing the contents and cringing. 
"Wow! She's even polite!" Namjoon teases making you laugh loudly. Jimin puts his hand under his chin staring. Your laugh was beautiful. Everything about you was inviting. A smitten smirk gracing his face as you laugh at something Yoongi says. And, suddenly Jimin knew he wanted to know all of you. 
"Y/N?!" Jin yells out as you dance with Jeongguk in the backyard, your head turning to him as you giggle. 
"What?" 
"You like my fashion?" Your hazy eyes looking over his attire before smirking, 
"You look great, oppa." 
"See!" He yells at Hoseok who laughs loudly throwing his body onto the wooden bench by the table. You laugh before turning back around, Jimin had disappeared. He was right next to you and Jeongguk a few seconds ago. You furrow your eyebrows before grabbing your water bottle and peaking inside of the bar. His silhouette leaving the bar and out the door. You frown following him quickly, pushing through bodies on the dance floor as you call his name. Your voice getting drowned out by the music as you sprint to the doorway. Jimin is across the street, his foot perched behind him as he folds his arms. You step out of the bar and make your way across the street as he looks over at you. 
"What's wrong?!" You ask putting your hand on his shoulder as he stares at the sky. 
"Nothing." You give him an incredulous look as he looks down at you. 
"Jimin." He sighs before letting his foot slide off of the limestone wall behind him. 
"I just want some time with you, alone." Jimin tells you, grabbing at your hand as a few drops of water hit your face. 
"Time alone with me?" You ask putting your hand on your forehead shielding your face. Jimin does the same as the skies slowly begin to open up. 
"Yeah, I want to get to know you. Just you without my members around. Frustrating." His sentence ends in a mumble and you smile before pulling his hand. His body stumbles before catching itself as you step underneath a closed shop awning. 
"You didn't have to run off, you could have told me that." You tell him making him smile. His dark brown eyes staring down at you as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. 
"I'm telling you now." He whispers before smirking. There was silence as you stare at each other, the rain starting to patter harder against the fabric awning over head. You wanted to know him too, he was a joy to be with. 
"Come." You tell him grabbing his hand and pulling him out into the rain. His face scrunches up as he laughs. 
"Where are we going?" He asks as he jogs behind you shielding his face. 
"To have time alone." Jimin stops for a second before intertwining your fingers.
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You enter your hotel room, both of you dripping wet as Jimin shakes his sodden hair out of his face. 
"Oh my God it's pouring!" He says with a laugh before looking around your room. 
"Wow, this is nice." He mumbles as you take off your high heels and step into the adjacent bathroom. You grab two towels before putting yours over your head. 
"I quit my job and saved my money and decided to travel." You tell him before stepping out of the bathroom and handing him a towel. He nods opening his mouth understanding as you flick the lights on. 
"It's really spacious." He says before looking at the king sized bed by the window. He sits on the edge before drying his hair off. His wet white shirt clinging to his body making it almost see through. You find yourself staring as he leans back his abs apparent through the shirt as he wipes at his neck. 
"I have beer." You tell him pointing at the mini fridge. He looks over before nodding. 
"That sounds good." You look at the price list before rolling your eyes. Fifteen euros for one beer. That's just ridiculous. You grab two bottles out of the fridge before handing out to him. Jimin pops it open before leaning back on his elbows, his body shifting the cream colored sheets as he looks up at you. To have him alone, in this space. Your own space, makes you feel on top of the world. Jimin takes a sip before looking you up and down. 
"You must be cold." He says before grabbing the towel and draping it around your shoulders. But, you weren't you felt alive, all of your nerves firing. The goosebumps were not a sign of being cold. It was a sign of excitement. "I should change out of this dress." You tell him and he nods. 
"You'll get sick, if you don't." You hum in agreement before turning around and showing him your back. He takes in a deep breath before sitting up straighter and grabbing the zipper of your dress. You could pull it down yourself but where's the fun in that?
Jimin grabs the small zipper, his hands eagerly opening up your bare back to him as he bites his bottom lip. 
"Thanks." He hums before leaning back, the dress drops into a puddle on the floor and Jimin gives himself away by groaning gently. Your ass and legs on full view as he looks at your thong. His eyebrows furrowing as he licks his lips. 
"This what you had in mind for alone?" You quip turning around to him. He chuckles to himself before shrugging. 
"I can't say no now that you're in front of me like this." You crack open your beer can taking a sip and Jimin ogles your shielded breasts. The cusp of them making his eyes hang lower as he sips his beer slowly. 
"I decided I am going to do whatever I want to. On my vacation." You clarify making him smile. 
"Oh yeah? Whatever you want?" You smirk before straddling him. His free hand grabbing at your side before rubbing his thumb over your skin. He puts his beer can on the floor before holding you steady on top of him. His chest smacking into yours as he sits up. His hand comes up to caress your face, his thumb sliding over your cheek bone as he looks up at you. The silence was comfortable. 
"You're really pretty." Jimin mumbles, his alcoholic breath fanning your face as you smile down at him. 
"You are too." He smirks as his hand leaves your face to rub small circles on your collar bone. His tongue darting out to lick at his plush lips. Fuck, his lips were perfect. Simply calling out for you to kiss them. 
"And, since I decided I am going to do whatever I want-" Jimin grabs you tighter, his acid blue jeans rubbing against your ass as you bite your lip.  
"What're you going to do?" He asks tilting his head. You bend down pressing your lips into his and he groans happily pressing his hand to your back pulling you as close as he could.
His teeth nibble at your bottom lip, your legs wrapping around his stomach as he pushes your head closer to his. Your mouth opening for him as he rubs his tongue against yours. A small moan leaving your lips only to be swallowed by him as you run your fingers through his black hair. His body is quick, his arm muscles tightening as he flips you over. A gasp leaving you as you grip at his hair, he groans in pleasure before pulling away and taking off his shirt. The wet fabric hitting the floor with a heavy thud before his lips are back on yours. The kiss wasn't urgent, it was slow, sensual and full of wanting. Jimin pulls back only to gasp for air as he looks down at you. Your head angling upwards to catch sight of his eight pack. 
"Fuck." You whisper raking your hands over his stomach. He sighs content before closing his eyes. 
"I don't get to do this, ever. This is a first for me." You look up at him wide eyed, 
"Your first time having sex?" He sighs before nodding. 
"Yes." Oh, you were going to fucking ruin him. You could feel how soaked your panties were already. 
"You're telling me you're this hot and you never had sex before?" Jimin smirks before leaning back and unbuckling his belt. 
"I'm serious." He chuckles before leaning down. 
"Is that alright with you?" You smile at the question. 
"If it's alright with you." He nods eagerly and you giggle before pulling him back down in for a kiss. A moan leaves him and it might just be the prettiest noise you've ever heard in your life. His forehead connects to yours as he unbuttons his pants. 
"Fuck. You're so hot." He mumbles before standing up and stripping off his wet jeans. You smile up at him gratefully, his briefs already tenting and stained with precum as he rubs at your legs. His thumbs giving small massaging motions to your calves as he kneels in between your legs. 
"If I'm not doing something right, just tell me." His eyes earnestly looking at you as he grips at your thighs. You nod to him making him smile as he bites his bottom lip.
Your hands reach around your back before unclasping your bra. His eyes honing in on your breasts as you throw your bra on the floor. 
"Shit." He mumbles before fixing his erection, his hands reaching out to touch your breasts before looking at you for the okay. You nod to him and his hands palm them. You sigh gently before he leans down, his cologne enticing your nose as his plush lips leave featherweight kisses on your neck. 
"Your skin is so soft." He mumbles into you before pulling his hand away from one of your breasts. His tongue encircling your nipple before suckling sweetly at it. Your breath catches in your throat as you run your hands over his arms. 
"Oh fuck." His gentle suckles have your back bowing off of the bed. His arm snaking behind you to hold you up as you mewl for him. 
"Jimin!" His eyes closing as he flicks your nipple with his tongue. 
"Oh my fucking God!" His mouth was skilled, it's incredible to believe it's his first time doing this. He pulls up before looking at you, his cheeks flushing pink with lust as he looks at you through his lashes. 
"Okay?" He asks quietly to which you can only giggle. 
"Perfect." He smiles before giving your other breasts attention. 
"Okay." His voice is a whisper before attaching to your other breast. His warm fingers gliding over your stomach before fingering at your thong. His fingertips tracing the hem and your eyes roll back as he pulls up. It was so sensual, his gentle movements have you dying for more. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your thong before slowly pulling them down. His lips kissing along your thighs before hanging your thong from your ankle. 
"Christ." He whispers before spreading your knees wider. His tongue licking at his lips. 
"I want to taste you." He bows down as you run your fingers through his hair. Your thighs squeezing around his head as he opens your pussy lips. He lewdly views your cunt before sighing content and leaving a flat stripe. You squeeze your legs tighter as you moan his name. His lips clasping onto your clit and gently suckling before going to town.
You moan loudly, back off the bed as Jimin enters a finger inside you. A groan leaving his lips as you close your eyes. 
"Look at me." He whispers picking his head thrusting his finger into you faster. You lift your head with a moan as he adds another finger. His tongue flicking at your clit as he curls his fingers. 
"Good?" He asks before kissing your soaked lower lips. 
"So fucking good! So good! Keep going!" Jimin smirks before going back down on you. Your eyes stare at each other as you bite your bottom lip. He was so hot, so fucking handsome and he was eating you out. Your stomach starts to tighten as you pull Jimin's hair harder. His eyes squeezing shut before moaning. 
"Fuck! Yes!" You moan loudly as Jimin adds a third finger. 
"I'm so close!" You whine as Jimin suckles harshly against you. Your thighs begin to shake before moaning loudly as you orgasm. 
"Jimin!" He sits up, a confident smile on his face before wiping at it with his hand. 
"You taste so good." You pull his shoulders down and bring him into a kiss as he moans against your lips. Your hand reaching out and grazing his briefs. 
"Fuck." He whimpers before grabbing onto your hips. 
"Lay down." You tell him as you sit up. You push your drying hair over your shoulders before crawling over him. His lust filled eyes taking you in as you pull down his briefs. His hard cock slapping against his stomach as he whimpers your name. 
"Do you want me to touch you?" You cock your head teasingly as he grabs at your thighs. 
"Please touch me! Please!" You lean down licking up his protruding abs. He groans gently, his fingers gripping at your thighs as he grits his teeth. You watch as his cock precums in excitement and you can't help but smile. 
"Someone's eager." 
"Fuck, Y/N. Please, touch me." He grabs at your hands as you kiss up his chest to his neck. 
"Oh fuck." He closes his eyes biting down on his bottom lip. 
"No marks. I'll get in trouble." You nod before pulling away. "No marks." 
You kiss the length of his cock, it wasn't the longest but it was thick making your mouth water. 
"Oh my God! You're such a tease." He groans before grabbing at your hair. You giggle before licking at the head of his cock. He gasps loudly as his cock precums once more. You swirl your tongue around him before dipping your head down his length. He sounds as if he's been shot. The loud groan that leaves his mouth makes you feel on top of the world. 
"Oh fuck! You- Ah!" His head lulling back as he whimpers out. Your cheeks hollow as you choke on his cock. 
"Oh fuck! You know how to use your mouth!" You moan in agreement, the vibration of your tongue has his hips thrusting upwards. 
"I'm not going to last!" He yelps out before repeated thrusting. His teeth gritting harder as he squeezes his eyes shut. Tears collecting in your eyes before spilling over your cheeks. 
"Y/N! Fuck! I'm going to cum! I'm-" Without warning he orgasms with a loud whine. His hands pull at your hair as he whimpers, tucking his lip between his teeth. 
"Oh God!" You swallow his seed before sitting up and rubbing his chest delicately. He takes a deep shaky breath before looking up at you. His smile seems drunken as he sits up. His fingers raking through his hair before climbing over you. 
"That was incredible." He whispers before wiping some cum off of your lip and holding out his finger. You open your mouth, your tongue swirling over the pad of his finger before suckling it gently. His mouth opening as he strokes his semi-erect cock. 
"You're fucking perfect." He tells you before knocking your legs open. You giggle wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down. 
"Are you on birth control?" You wrinkle your nose before nodding. 
"You wouldn't lie to me, right?" He asks quickly, picking up his head and looking into his eyes. 
"No, Jimin. I wouldn't lie to you." He kisses you gently before parting your pussy lips with his cock. Your arousal coating him as he moans. 
"I'm sorry if I cum fast. I-" You silence him with a kiss before biting his bottom lip. He moans gently before aligning himself to you. He enters you slowly, both of you moans gently as Jimin presses his face into your neck. 
"You're so tight. Christ, you're fucking dripping." You whimper wrapping your legs around him as he grabs at the sheets next to your head. His hips pulling out before thrusting back in. 
"Jimin!" He knew how to work his hips, that's for sure. 
"Fuck, your pussy feel good." Your head falling back as you run your hands over his back. He gets his bearings of how you like the thrusts. Taking into account when you moan loudly compared to your whimpers before bulldozing inside of you. Your breath catches in your throat as you moan loudly. 
"Fuck!" His body picking up to kneeling before playing with your nipples. 
"Tight little fucking pussy all for me. So fucking gorgeous." You moan his name loudly. Your nails digging into his arms as he fucks you up the bed. The headboard smacking into the wall only goads him on as he puts your ankles over his shoulder letting him thrust deeper. 
"Yes! Fuck me! Right there!" Jimin licks at his lips, his body enveloping a sheen of sweat. He could feel his balls tightening. His throat going dry from moaning your name. 
"Rub my clit!" You tell him as you feel his cock beginning to throb within you. He puts his thumb in his mouth before circling your clit. Your back bowing off of the bed as you moan loudly. 
"Just like that! Fuck!" Jimin groans as you grab his hand and place it over your throat. 
"Fuck, you're such a good girl." He whispers before squeezing your throat gently. The grip was perfect enough to have your head swimming as your heartbeat begins to fill your ears. 
"Fuck! Feels so good! I'm close!" Your stomach tightening once more as you bite down on your bottom lip. 
"Me too!" Jimin goes to work rubbing at your clit faster watching how your breasts bounce with every thrust. Your walls begin to quiver, a gasp leaving Jimin's lips as his eyes flutter shut at the feeling. 
"Oh shit!" You moan loudly grabbing at the sheets as your knuckles go white. His hips beginning to roll and snap with every thrust and you orgasm around him with a loud moan. 
"Fuck! Yes! Cum on my cock!" He groans loudly falling over you before chasing his high. His balls slapping into your ass as your vision goes white. 
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I'm cumming!" His lips suckling at your nipple as he cums. Ropes of cum lathering your cunt as he whimpers against you. 
"Oh my God." You mumbles before putting your hands through your hair. Jimin sits up shakily before putting his hand on his chest. 
"Oh man. That was-" He can't even find words as he pulls out and throws himself beside you. 
"Can I have your number?" He asks looking over at you making you giggle. "Sure, you can have my number." 
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Jimin steps out of the shower first handing you a towel. 
"Any idea where you're going to travel next?" He asks before wrapping his arms around you and kissing you gently. You tilt your head resting your cheek on his shoulder. 
"Maybe Korea?" His lips quirk up into a wide smile before chuckling. 
"I'd like that, a lot." You hum as he wraps the towel around his waist. "Me too."
833 notes · View notes
monobleamour · 4 years
Text
love is not for people like us - part one
HI IM ALIVE🙋🏻‍♀️
A/N: i’m a big fan of historical series and books so I decided to make a story about Harry being a prince and y/n a princess in the 15th- 16th century I guess. ALSO HENRY EDWARD THE 5TH IM DYING, the only one? Yeah. Okay and I might have borrowed some stuff from Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon but they’re from my faves. OKAY BYE HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS s-word!!!!!!!!!!!
summary: Harry has to be king, but the only way to achieve this is by marrying y/n. 
pairing(s): harry styles x reader
word count: 2.5k+
WANT TO ADD THAT I STARTED THIS AS A ONE-SHOT THING BUT THEN MY INSPIRATION LEFT SO I DECIDED TO MAKE THIS A SOME-PARTS-STORY. part1:)
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‘’But mother I do not desire to marry this woman. Not that I dislike her, but I do not want to get married. I can do that on my own. I’m a soon to be king.’’ Harry pleased his mother, trying to convince her that he would be fine by his own. Though Anne was already a queen and she knew that no king could command and rule a whole country on his own, they need a queen by their side, and so did Harry. ‘’Harry this is not about you. If you marry her, we’re going to have a more powerful country as well. Think about the profits young man. Love is not for people like us, love is for fools, we are royals. And if you want this country, you’ll want to marry this woman. End of the conversation. I have made my mind and decided what’s best for you and this country.’’ Anne said, sounded a little bit cold to her son, though her heart was breaking a little bit. Even though she was a queen, she wanted him to be happy, but happiness is not in their journal.
Harry’s destination had always been the same. Once he gets married, he’s the king. Since the day he was born, he was going to be the king of England. It was just a matter of time, till he gets married. He knew that he would not marry the one he wanted or will want. He’ll marry a princess, who has the same destination as his. Practically he knows that he’s marrying a country, not the woman. It’s a benefit. The country becomes more powerful, you take over and invade in more countries. Harry didn’t want war. He wanted to have a country so he could make sure everyone is fine, he wanted to put an end in those battles. Peace is what he asked for. And as much he was committed to this country since the day he was born, so much he was committed to Y/n. They had never met each other before, but they had been engaged since they were like 5. Y/n was the princess of Spain, one of Europe’s most powerful countries (I would like to add that if you don’t like Spain or sth, you can put whichever country you want to). She was not like all the other princesses she had ever met though. She was far different from that. She was really beautiful, she was. And also that was something men liked, except for her wealth. But she. She just admired how intelligent she was. She liked reading books, mostly poems so much, sometimes she wished she could be a poet. Y/n pretty much was the opposite of Harry. He desired to be a king, while she hoped she wouldn’t be a queen. She also was pretty much different from the other women. Because everyone believed in men, she believed in herself, she believed in her will and her power. A feminist someone would say. That was because deep down she knew that a king is useless without a queen, while a queen without a king is more powerful, moral of the story. Y/n had never met Harry in her entire life, but she liked to dream about him. She wasn’t thinking how his appearance is, how tall he might be. What colour his eyes were or his hair. She liked to dream about how kind he may be or if he likes to read like her. Maybe he wasn’t a cruel king like past ones, maybe this one was unique. Even though she sometimes liked the idea of Harry, she didn’t allow herself to love him. Not because she knew that royals that fall in love are few, but because she would be taken away. Away from her family and country. She wasn’t like the other ones who hoped one day they’ll marry a king and leave, she liked the idea of herself. In what she wanted to be. She liked to dream, a lot, and for a queen, that is dangerous. Harry never questioned how Y/n would be, because clearly, he didn’t even want it to be. He just wanted a kingdom to himself, to show people that he’s capable of doing something by himself. But even though he didn’t want to get married, that didn’t stop him from flirting. In fact, there was already a girl in his life, a woman he knew he would never marry. Being honest, she was just a maid, he was a king. But he actually felt like he loved her.
‘’Your grace?’’ a woman sounded behind the closed door that was knocked 3 times. At that very moment, Harry knew, he had lost track of time thinking about the whole situation. ‘’Come in.’’ he ordered sitting in the chair next to the desk he had been standing by for 30 possible minutes. ‘’Your grace, there’s a letter for you.’’ the young woman informed him. ‘’Maggie.’’ Harry sighed with a smile in his face. Margaret, or Maggie as Harry preferred to call her, was a maid in the castle. She was Harry’s maid. She was always there for him. Literally, every time and everywhere. As the years went on they kinda became friends, and one thing brought another so, in the end, they became kind of ‘’secret’’ lovers. She wasn’t with someone like most of the maids and the staff was, but she knew Harry was. She knew that Harry would marry one day a princess and they will rule the country together, but she also hated it. Why couldn’t she marry the man she loved, because of what she was. Why did people label other people? Labels are for clothes, not humans. And as Harry had a bright smile in his face as he saw Maggie, she was everything but happy. ‘’Is it true?’’ she asked eyes almost watery. ‘’True what?’’ a little bit confused he replied because he really had no idea what she was talking about. ‘’You’re marrying her, aren’t you?’’ she sadly sighed taking a big breath ‘’it’s not even a question I guess, huh?’’ ‘’Mag.’’ he tried to explain but there was nothing to explain, she knew this would happen so what’s with her now? ‘’Do you want to marry her?’’ she looked at him, just wanting to hear one word. ‘’I have to.’’ ‘’Yet, you didn’t answer my question.’’ ‘’I guess, I still don’t.’’ ‘’Harry, why are you marrying someone you don’t want to? It’s your life you decide. There’s always a second choice. And I know she is yours.’’ ‘’So what’s my first?’’ he knew he had no choice. Either way, in the end, he marries her and England unites with Spain, that’s his destiny. Always have been. ‘’Me, Harry, me. Please, I beg you, don’t marry her.’’ she was begging, her eyes could take it, but her heart no. ‘’Margaret, let me clear this up. I have to marry her, so my country, that I care, will have more power. I have to. It’s what it is. It’s my life, not my choices. They make them for me. You’re just a simple maid nothing more. I will be king, and I need by my side a queen. Not to love her but to rule with her.’’ he said with an emotion that wasn’t angry but neither sad, maybe disappointed probably. ‘’You’re choosing her over me?’’ she was angry she was, she had spent years loving him even though she knew it would never happen, she loved him, and she hoped he loved her. ‘’Not my choice.’’ Harry’s answer was also his final one. Margaret was a nice girl, but she didn’t want to be a fool, she didn’t. ‘’As I said before your Majesty,’’ her mood had completely changed ‘’there’s a letter for you.’’ she gave him the letter, and before he could even speak she stormed out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
As soon as Margaret vanished, Anne appeared. ‘’What’s going on, son?’’ she asked a little bit anxious seeing that her son had kind of turned into pale. ‘’Ugh, a letter came. That.’’ he replied, still sitting on his chair. ‘’What does it say? Is it from Catherine in Spain? When are they sending their daughter? Everything must be perfect, for a princess like her. A queen!’’ Anne seemed to really like the idea of Harry becoming a king, marrying a queen, and England becoming more powerful. Who wouldn’t actually? ‘’I-I still haven’t read it, mother. Let me open it.’’ he did as he said, and even though he didn’t read the letter out loud, Anne already knew that he would confirm her thoughts. ‘’So?’’ she asked, really nervous. ‘’2 days and she’ll be here.’’ Harry said, almost sounded like he wanted to cry. ‘’Great! We have to make everything look great. Harry, you have to look great.’’ ‘’And I will-’’ ‘’Everything Harry! Everything. She will marry you! She holds your whole future! Our future! Your heir! So be careful, please. We need this, we need her.’’ ‘’Yes mother.’’ he said as she left. He really didn’t know what was he supposed to do. But now, he wondered a little bit about her. How does she look? How does she act? What is she like?
Y/n’s carriage was already on its way to England. She had never been to England before so she was a little bit excited to visit the country. It was hard for her to say goodbye to Spain, but it’s her duty as a queen to leave. If only she could live the way she wanted to, things could have been much easier. It was time she arrived at the castle. Everything looked good. Perfect, just like Anne had wanted to. Everyone was waiting for her, the stuff, the royals, everyone. Everyone except Harry. He was still inside, in his room. Only this time he was looking through his window. To admit, this made Anne sort of furious, but in the end, the outcome will be the same, so she didn’t give much attention. Everyone stared as Y/n was stepping out of her carriage. Some people helped her and her ladies, by bringing them closer to the castle. As she was walking by, you could see clearly that she was pure beauty. Her dress was a mix colour of dark orange to light brown and pastel yellow. Everyone wore those colours, and for a princess, those colours should be stunning while she wore them. You couldn’t see her shoes because her dress was so big, that covered most of the floor that surrounded her. She had a necklace full of diamonds, they were shining, she was shining. Her face though was the one that you could just stare forever and adore it. She had those big bambi eyes and that colour of her eyes that suited her perfectly. A big bright smile of her red lips was showing, and it was impressive being honest. Harry couldn’t help but look through his window, opening a little bit that curtain of his. He really admired her. He thought she was beautiful, very beautiful. But he also thought that being a king would be beautiful, surprisingly beautiful. So he went out, to greet her, as he should. As he was walking down, or maybe even running though the stairs, he bumped into Margaret. He just looked at her, and actually tried to say something but he didn’t he just left. He liked Maggie a lot, he did, but he would marry Y/n. He thought that Maggie was one of the many girls that he has fun with, spend his time, but always it comes to end, it usually ends after 2 weeks. Maggie had been with Harry though 2 years. But what’s two years with someone when you’re gonna spend a lifetime with someone else? As he stepped out of the huge door of the castle, he ran immediately to his parents, noticing that they were talking with Y/n. And when he came closer to her, he swore he had never seen a more beautiful girl like her. He felt like he just forgot everything about Maggie, but he didn’t because he was still feeling guilty. And as Harry was really frozen by just looking at her, Y/n was not. ‘’Your Highness’’ she said doing a small curtsey. He was out of words, at a loss of words and really he had no idea what to do. ‘’We-welcome to, ugh, England? Ugh, I, ugh..’’ he had no idea what he should say, and he really did not know why this was happening. ‘’Y/n.’’ she said, introducing herself. ‘’Harry. They call me Harry, it’s actually Henry Edward the 5th but you can call me Harry as well.’’ he sounded upset, yet he was everything but upset. ‘’Great.’’ she said, giving him one of her big smiles and continuing her talk with Anne, going inside the castle.
‘’What was that?’’ a man sounded and Harry turned around to look at him. ‘’What was what?’’ he replied looking at his father, king of England. ‘’You were mesmerized, she had you mesmerized. Got to admit it.’’ Henry smirked to Harry. ‘’What? No. Absolutely no. I just had to come and meet her. She will be my future wife won’t she, and she holds our future. You- you said it.’’ he tried to say clearly, but who was he trying to fool? ‘’Ugh, then, sure I believe you.’’ he said leaving back to the castle, to continue one of the many duties he has.
After a while, Harry was alone in his room per usual, writing. He likes to write a lot. He writes songs and poems, mostly. ‘’Do you want my opinion on her?’’ Maggie appeared from nowhere, but she appeared and she asked. Harry nodded. ‘’She doesn’t look like a queen.’’ she pouted her lips and confessed ‘’ more like a whore to me.’’ ‘’Hey!’’ Harry sightly yelled at her. ‘’You’ve known me for two years, Harry, I don’t get it. You can be king by yourself, why do you need to marry her?’’ her words sounded kind of bittersweet. ‘’I can do it by my own. England, though, can’t.’’ he added ‘’And a king always needs a queen, a real one Maggie. And as much as I care about you, I have to concede that in the end, you could not handle it. You can’t come through being a queen if it’s even achievable.’’ And he left.
Being honest, Harry had fun with Maggie. But that was it, just fun. He didn’t consider marrying her or having a life with her. Not because she was a maid, no. Simply because he knew she was incapable of being a good wife. At the end of the day, a girl like Margaret is just a simple girl, a maid who’s going to get married to a simple boy, but a girl like Y/n is a simple girl as well, who’s going to be queen and marry a simple boy, like Harry who’s going to be king.
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nokomiss · 4 years
Note
How about: "I won't forget this." *Rolling their eyes* "Thats's the idea y'know." With Jaysteph?
The tragedy happened -- poetically, really -- in Crime Alley.  
Two mid-class goons currently serving Two-Face were barreling down the middle of the street in a stolen armored truck, sideswiping anyone who didn’t swerve out of the way quick enough.  Steph didn’t even know what the special occasion was -- it was both an odd month and an odd day, so maybe it was just Two-Face causing what chaos he could -- and Steph was the closest on patrol. She swung in, regretting her choice to leave the Compact behind, and tried her best to catch up with the armored truck.
“Any help?” she called over the comms. “O, can you do something about the traffic, maybe? These guys are not following the rules of the road.”
“Already there,” Babs said.  “Red Hood is incoming.”
Steph managed to hook a line onto the truck just as Red Hood appeared on a really nice bike. Nice enough she noticed even when flying through the air aiming her body at a speeding truck.  
She landed on top of the truck with more grace than she’d been hoping for, given her iffy relationship with gravity in general, and began to make her way towards the cab of the truck. “Hood, can you distract them?”
“On it,” Jason replied, and a second later the armored truck swerved wildly as a chain wrapped around one of its wheels.  Steph kept her grip, and made her way unnoticed to the roof above the driver. She knew the glass was bulletproof, but that didn’t so much matter if the driver couldn’t see through it. She anchored herself to the top of the truck, then splattered two gooperangs on the windshield.
Instant chaos. The driver, just correcting from Jason’s attack on his wheels, lost total control of the truck as his vision was completely obscured. Steph gripped tightly to the magnetic gripper she’d anchored down. Her cape whipped around her as she tried to figure out where Jason and his bike were -- she definitely needed to bail soon, as the truck was aimed right for the concrete pillars supporting an overpass.  
“Behind you,” Jason said through the comm, clearly seeing her dilemma, and Steph let go of her anchor as she felt the truck lurch over a curb.  
She managed to somersault off the back of the truck like she did it every day, and caught onto Jason’s handlebars in a move she couldn’t replicate if she tried, but was so grateful that she pulled off. A half-turn and a twist and she was landing roughly in Jason’s arms like she’d planned it all out, and a second later the armored truck smashed into the pillar, front end crumpling like an accordion.
Jason pulled the bike to a stop, and Steph hopped out of his arms before offering him a high five. He grinned at the destruction they’d caused and high fived her back before they went to check on the goons, who were both groggy and easy to subdue. There were two dollar bills floating comically around them, like it was a cartoon, and Steph understood why Two Face had staged this particular robbery.
“Huh,” Jason said, catching one of the bills mid-air. “Who knew there were this many in circulation?”
“And in a city known for Two-Face’s crimes, even,” Steph said. “Like. What was the take, a couple hundred bucks?”
Jason pocketed the bill he’d caught, and Steph rolled her eyes at him. “What?” he said. “Batman takes trophies all the time.”
Steph could hardly argue that point, having spent more than her fair share of time climbing the giant dinosaur.  “Thanks for the assist, this went way smoother than--”
She was interrupted mid-sentence by an ominous creaking noise overhead.  She looked up, saw the cracks in the concrete, and grabbed onto Jason’s sleeve. “Run!”
They sprinted across the road, and watched in mutual horror as a broken slab of concrete, loosened by the crash, fell directly onto Jason’s motorcycle.
“Oh no,” Steph said quietly.
“Oh shit,” Jason said, and it was not the horror-struck tone of someone who had lost a prized possession. It was the horror-struck tone of someone who had fucked up majorly.
Steph looked at him.  Jason pointed at the crushed metal that had formerly been a red motorcycle with a shaking hand. “Please tell me I’m hallucinating.”
“Gotham’s infrastructure really never recovered from No Man’s Land,” Steph said, patting him on the arm. “I mean, that was a really nice bike, but at least we caught the bad guys?”
“It was a really nice bike,” Jason said. “It also wasn’t my bike.”
“Yikes,” Steph said. She cautiously moved closer, but there were no more creaking sounds overhead. The bike was thoroughly crushed, though. She poked at a bent wheel with the toe of her boot. “Bruce’s?”
Jason nodded. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“I mean, it’s not like he can’t afford another one?” Steph offered. 
“There aren’t any more,” Jason said. “And he fucking loves that bike.”
“How can there not be any more? It’s not like donut holes at the bakery,” Steph said. “It’s a motorcycle.” A Ducati, granted, and a definite loss, but… Jason was not taking this well. She wondered if he needed a hug.
“There were less than eight in the world. Seven now, I guess,” Jason said. He began picking pieces of concrete off the bike’s remains. “Come on, you have to help me hide the body.”
“Hide the -- you’re shitting me,” Steph said. “You love breaking Bruce’s stuff. Last month you took a picture of yourself next to the Batmobile you wrecked and made it the Batcomputer wallpaper.”
“Well, this is different,” Jason said. “Come on. I saved your ass, now you get to save mine.”
Steph couldn’t really argue with that, given that Jason had kindly kept her from splattering on the pavement. She began to move concrete chunks, and the more of the bike they unearthed, the worse it looked.  Oil and gasoline smeared the pavement like blood, and the bike itself was mangled beyond recognition. The bright red paint was coated with concrete dust, turning it dull brown.  
There was absolutely no way they were wheeling it away from the scene, and Steph could hear police sirens echoing down the street. They cleared off the rest of the concrete as Steph remotely called the Compact.  She glanced over her shoulder and noticed Jason doing the same. “We can drag it over behind that pillar?” she suggested, pointing to one that didn’t have an armored truck smashed into it.
It was less than fifteen feet away, but it took all their combined effort to get the bike’s remains behind the pillar before the cops came.  Steph hurried out, grabbing a broken tail light off the pavement and standing casually in front of her captured goons as the police cars careened around the corner.  
The scene looked suspicious as hell, but the actual presence of a Bat at the crime scene -- even if it was Batgirl -- had the officers off-balanced enough that no one actually questioned the pile of rubble.  Steph told them all the intel she had on Two-Face’s crime (not much, but she added enough details that it took a few minutes) while watching the Compact arrive out of the corner of her eye, and Jason managing to strap the Ducati’s remains to it without any officers actually noticing.  
It was actually pretty hilarious, watching him struggle to shove mangled motorcycle parts into a net intended for a cartoonish capture of criminals on top of the Compact while trying to blend in with the night.  He mostly failed, but luckily for him, Steph was a pretty great distraction.
“And in conclusion, what the heck, Gotham National Bank, what were you thinking? Gotta run!” she announced as soon as she saw Jason finish with the Ducati and climb into the Compact, and made a big show of firing her grappling gun and swooping off into the night like a proper vigilante.
If it hadn’t been for the one notable casualty, Steph would be having an absolutely stellar night.
She met up with him a few blocks over and climbed in the Compact, letting him continue to drive, as she had no earthly idea where one disposed of the body of a motorcycle.
Though, as he pulled up to an abandoned part of the harbor, she probably should have guessed.
They climbed out of the Compact and stood there, breeze ruffling their hair and the moonlight shining on the water. It should be a peaceful moment, but the smell of motor oil dripping from the Ducati ruined it.  
“Tell me why this bike’s different?” Steph was so incredibly curious.  Jason was not one to hide something to spare Bruce’s feelings.
Jason had his hands shoved in his pockets. They were both fully in uniform, though Jason was down to a domino mask.  For some reason, Steph thought it was easier to share personal things while in uniform; it somehow seemed divorced from real life.  Though for Jason the uniform seemed to be real life.  He stared out at the water for a few more minutes, then finally said, “I had a picture of that bike on my wall when I was a kid. Like, before things really went to shit, I ripped a picture out of a magazine at the fuckin’ library, and snuck it home in my backpack. I didn’t know it was some rare thing, I just liked the color.”
“You do like your reds,” Steph said, for lack of anything better.  
His mouth quirked up. “You sure you wanna go there, Purple Rain?” 
She bumped her shoulder up against his-- well, against his arm, but the thought was there.  “So you had a picture of a motorcycle on your wall. Very weird. Almost unseemly, for a boy to have an illicit picture of a motorcycle--”
“Wow, you just don’t stop ever, do you,” Jason said. His mouth quirked up, and then he glanced back at the bike. “Anyway. After Bruce took me in, I kept pestering him about getting me one, even though they were stupid expensive and impossible to find, because of there being only a handful in existence.” 
“And obviously he got it for you,” Steph said, rolling her eyes, because Bruce could be called a lot of things, but stingy wasn’t one of them.
Jason shook his head. “Nope. I mean -- I guess, but not as a present. I guess he bought it symbolically for my sweet sixteen. Probably drove it to my grave, the melodramatic bastard.”
Steph opened her mouth and shut it again a few times, and then turned to stare again at the wreckage of the bike.  “I mean-- wow. So he didn’t think to give it to you once, you know, you rejoined the world of the living?”
“I don’t know if you remember but things weren’t awesome between us then,” Jason said, a little testily.
“I mean, if you want to play that game, I don’t, actually, given that I was having my own post-death world travels at that time,” Steph replied in exactly the same tone. 
Jason’s mouth tightened, then he let out a sharp bark of laughter. “I kind of forgot about that.”
“Well, I don’t bring it up in every conversation I have, so….” Steph nobly managed to not stick her tongue out at him.
“You’re a saint. And no, he did not give it to me once I came back,” Jason said, bringing the conversation back to the salient point.  “I found it in the garage covered in a freaking tarp, and sometimes I borrow it.”
“Without permission, I assume.”
Jason nodded. “He’s never shown any indication that he noticed. Which, you know, for Bruce…”
“Is a miracle in and of itself.” Steph nodded back at him. “So basically -- Bruce bought you your dream bike when you were dead and you’re cranky because he didn’t actually give it to you, so you keep stealing it hoping he’ll notice.”
“When you put it like that, it sounds stupid,” Jason said.
Steph stared at him, hoping he’d get the point.
“It isn’t stupid,” he insisted.
“You’re all stupid,” Steph said. “So now you want to throw it in the harbor instead of just… letting Bruce know that you have been taking it? Nevermind that obviously he knows you’ve been taking it. I mean. Do you fill it up with gas every time? I bet not, and I bet it’s always full when you pick it back up.”
She absolutely was not speaking from experience with her own personal favorites of Bruce’s ridiculously awesome car collection.
“I--” Jason began, but then shrugged. “Shit.”
Steph surveyed the harbor again, then looked back at the wreckage. “You know, this is one way to deal with this, but… what if there’s a better way.”
Jason drummed his fingers on his thigh, clearly weighing her earlier words, then said, “I’m listening.”
*
Four hours later, they stood side by side again, this time in the Cave.
“Okay,” Jason said slowly. “Okay, I’ll say it. You are an evil genius and I adore you.”
Steph fluffled her hair cheerfully. “Glad to hear it.”
“This is-- I mean, I thought I was the best at getting under Bruce’s skin, but this is going to make him go ballistic.”
Steph rolled her eyes. “The point is not to make Bruce go ballistic. That’s just a happy little bonus.”
They were standing in front of Jason’s memorial case, which until very recently had held only his Robin uniform.
Steph had to say, the a good soldier plaque now felt far less serious, given that it was now describing the mangled remains of a motorcycle that had died in the line of duty.  She even found a sharpie and added to the plaque, in the most cutesy handwriting she could manage so that it now read JASON TODD’s dream bike.
“It’s perfect,” Jason breathed.  Steph had been unsure about what to do with the uniform that had been inside, but Jason had lovingly pulled it over the handlebars until the Ducati had become, in death, an honorary Robin. “I won’t forget this.”
Steph rolled her eyes. “That’s the whole idea, y’know. It’s a memorial. For memory-keeping.”
But then she reached over and took Jason’s hand in hers, tangling their fingers together and squeezing. “Sorry your bike died while you were helping me.”
Logically, Gotham’s poor infrastructure wasn’t her fault, but if she hadn’t needed an assist, Jason would still have his beloved bike. Well. Kind of. Would still be regularly stealing his beloved bike from his emotionally inept father, because they were both stubborn idiots.
Jason kept holding her hand, leaning in until their sides were touching. “At least it went in a blaze of glory.”
“And now it’s gonna live on forever in our hearts,” Steph said. She pulled up their joined hands and pressed a kiss onto Jason’s knuckle, ignoring the way he startled at the soft touch and focusing on the little smile he gave her.  “Wanna hide in the dinosaur and watch Bruce’s reaction when he notices?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
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jay-and-dean · 4 years
Text
I don’t need you  Chapter 6 : Wild cat
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Dean x reader
Summary : She’s a warrior, she’s a loner. Nothing can stop her, nothing ever had. She doesn’t need Dean, does she ?
This is a request by @magssteenkamp​ that I decided to turn to a serie, see the original request on the serie Masterlist.
Serie Warnings : Swearing (duh). Mention of death. Smut, probably all kind from rough to fluffy, I’ll precise in the chapters if there are specific warnings. Fluff. Angst of course.
Chapter warnings :  Swearing. SMUT, a hint of Dom!Dean, kinda Brat/brat tamer vibe. Unprotected sex (You’re smarter than this). Horny Dean. Violence with a hint of cruelty. Mention of past murder and abuse.
Words : 3.2 k
Note : I’ll try to stick to the 3k rule, like for Rescue You
If everything goes as planned, you’ll get one chapter every wednesday (Thanks to @magssteenkamp, I call it WednesJay, lol. Sorry okay, I shut up).
***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***
*** I don’t need you MASTERLIST***
_________________________________
6.     WILD CAT
 Dean’s Pov
             Living with a woman…
           Living with Y/n.
           No one warned me. Living with a girl, and a girl you want. I never knew that.
           In my life, I lived with Sam, with my dad, I “lived” in Hell and Purgatory. And in my car for months. I have shared rooms with Cas, and occasionally with other hunter friends during hunts before Sam came back. And for one year, I lived with Lisa, but it was different. It was her house, she was my girlfriend and I was… depressed. And Lisa, she… She was not Y/n, she didn’t have that effect on me.
           Now is very different. The bunker is my home for real, and Y/n… I have no idea why this woman makes me loose my mind like that. I want her. I crave her. And since I had her, it’s way worse, it’s unbearable... And now she’ everywhere.
           She’s not invasive, not at all, she’s even discreet, and like I expected, very independent. Like a cat you only see when she needs to eat or walks in the same room as you… A cat you can’t touch because you can feel she’s still totally wild and has claws.
But she’s here. And every little thing brings me to the memory of her strong thighs crushing my hips in ecstasy.
           The bedroom we gave her smells like her, and when I walk to mine, I hear her music on the way, muffled behind her door. That third toothbrush in the bathroom, and the smell of wax. The books she reads all day, eager to devour all bunker’s knowledge, and she forgets everywhere she goes.
Maybe the worst is hearing her sorry voice saying she will hurry when I find the bathroom door closed ; imagining her behind the door, maybe naked, maybe brushing her wet hair or whatever…
           I really should focus on our researches to find a way to get rid of that vampire mafia, but I can’t really focus on anything lately. The contacts we have, the leads… It goes nowhere for now and I should work harder.
           I walk to the kitchen and find her there, she’s wearing that sweatpants she took off to straddle me. Her back is on me, her head is low, she’s reading something, and my eyes fall on the curve between her lower back and her butt.
           Was it bad ? Sex with me ? Was it disappointing ?
Don’t be so ridiculous Dean. Overthinking everything like a stupid teen. Do you think because a woman had sex with you, she would want more ? Why would she ? Not because you are obsessed with her, she would want anything to do with you…
Look at her. She doesn’t need a man, she doesn’t need anyone.
           I haven’t had my first coffee yet, and I’m already losing my freaking mind. She’s there, she’s right there, and I know how she feels around me now...
“Hey” I greet her, trying to sound casual.
“Hi Dean” she turns around, a book in one hand as usual, a cup of coffee in the other. “I made coffee.”
I take a mug and pour some of that extremely strong coffee she makes every morning. Strong like her, black like that leather corset she wears in the battle field. That freaking corset that was drying on the bathroom the other day, that tight… Black… piece of clothing..
“I may have found a job, lame job but still. At the gas station” she says putting the book about demonic possession on the table.
“A job ?”
Why would she want a job ?
“Yeah, so I can pay my… you know my stuff, food and all” she shrugs. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t mean I’m settling in.”
I wouldn’t mind.
“I told you we had fake credit cards. If you need anything, just take the one I gave you.”
“Dean…” she smiles kindly, taking a sip of her coffee and I realize I just love my name on her lips. “Fake credit cards are a privilege for hunters, because you can’t risk your life at the other end of the country and have a job, you protect civilians… I’m not even a hunter. I’m a freaking vampire slayer.”
“Well, Buffy, Sam found a case, would you come with us ? Or do you really want to work at that gas station ?” I smile wide, showing teeth, trying to stop looking at her naked thigh sticking out of the table.
“What kind of case ?” she asks nonchalantly.
           Looking at her innocent expression, I can’t help but think of what happened. She… She freaking straddled me and took me right there… Since then… Nothing.
           It’s like nothing ever happened between us, like I never came deep inside of her, like I didn’t want her. She knows I wanted her, she felt it, and I felt her need, I heard her pleas on the phone and I saw her beautiful orgasm on her face... Now nothing. Except I’m going crazy.
           She seems to think hard, and finally answers.
“Okay. Let’s hunt with the legendary Winchesters” she chuckles. “When do we leave ?”
“As soon as you’re ready, Sweetheart” I state, using that nickname on purpose.
 Reader’s Pov
             Eyeliner.
Those dark eyes look back at me in the mirror, their black line making them harder, colder, and those stern pupils I was so used to. I tighten the cords of my corset, strangely loving the strong feeling of being held so strong, and the pressure on my spine.
I remember the first time I dressed like this. I was way too young, sixteen maybe or even less, and I needed to infiltrate that club. A really shady club...
I couldn’t afford clothes, I could barely afford food ; so I borrowed a corset from that prostitute that gave me food once or twice, Silvia. She hid me from her pimp several times, and told me to never take free drugs and to stay away from men in general… She was nice with me, and she’s probably one of the reasons (with the Supernatural books) I never gave up to selling myself when fear and hunger were unbearable.
I had never worn anything else than that dirty hoodie I slept and lived in for years, and it was the first time I could actually dress up and look in a mirror, hurrying in her bathroom while Silvia wasn’t home. I used her makeup too…
I felt so strong when I left her shitty apartment, for once I had made a choice, for once I was in charge… I killed two vampires that night.
And Silvia was found dead before I gave her the corset back, one of her “client” decided rough wasn’t enough, he decided the bruises and the humiliations would be more pleasant if those fucking rapes ended up in murder…
I found him. I killed that son of a bitch.
But the time after she died was the worst of my life. Not just because no one gave food to me through the window, because after discovering monsters are real the hard way… I was discovering the worst monsters are human. And those monsters, there was no Winchesters to burn them. I was too young and I lost all hope…
But I had that corset and a sharp knife. So I decided, as long as I had that, I will make their blood flow… And I did.
A wave of sadness goes through me thinking that corset burned in my apartment, the original one, Silvia’s memory.
That is what Dean doesn’t know about me. That is the reason I can’t let go to that desire I feel for him. Not only I have to stay away from this naivety that made the child inside me crush on him, because naivety is weakness and weakness is death…
But also, he wants to see me as a hunter… And what I am is a killer.
 I get out of the bathroom and walk to the war room with the bag they gave me to pack my things. I don’t have much, but I really don’t need a lot, the only thing is…
“Could one of you lend me a jacket ?” I say, putting my bag on the table. “My coat burnt and...”
Dean jumps from his sit, nodding, and walks pass me.
“Won’t be as fitted as your clothes though” he states, eyeing my cleavage for a second.
“That really doesn’t matter” I assure him.
           When he comes back, he hands me that beautiful dark blue jacket he wears a lot. And I feel like a freaking cliché when our fingers touch, and even more when I wrap myself in that jacket of his. The little scared teen in me screaming in my head.
           But that teen is dead a long time ago, and I intend that she stays dead.
 Dean’s Pov
             Y/n is fierce against vampires, but she’s just as much against any other monster.
           Since we left home, we have solved one case after another, without any break like Sam and I did some times, mostly when one of us needed to unwind for some reason.
           This time, all of us do need relief, for different reasons. And we make the best team… ever.
           Everything is perfect, her sharp mind completes Sam’s brain, and her formidable fighting skills make our trio almost invulnerable.
           And after the job is done, drinking a glass of whiskey with her really feels like hanging out with my best friends.
           Y/n fights like this ghost, like this ghoul, like this shapeshifter was precisely the one who killed her parents. She is an efficient killer, if she decides that you’re dead, your head hits the floor before you realize it. It’s a freaking execution.
And watching her using those moves, both smooth and sharp to end the worst creatures of the universe makes me all dizzy every time.
           She’s graceful in her ferocity and hunting with her adds something Sam and I never had, not even with Cas or Jack or anyone : an action movie vibe or something like that ; I think I never enjoyed hunting that much.
And I have to admit none of it helps with my obsession. I didn’t know I could be hard as steel while burning a corpse…
But as efficient as she is, able to kill without more than one stroke, she can also enjoy it… cruelly.
She’s like a cat that could end that mouse with a single bite, but plays with it a little.
She’s fucking scary.
Right now, the mouse is a 240lbs werewolf with a special taste for captivity and young hearts. He and his friend made their own little reserve in his basement, but it took us less than six hours to find who they were.
She broke his knee, stabbed him in the back, and watches him try to crawl to the forest now. She’s smiling wide, her face covered in red dots from the throat she cut just before.
“Crawl, crawl little bad wolf” she hums, turning around him like a shark.
“Dean” Sam tries to get me out of fascination, I know he things we should end the beast but I’m not giving her orders… It’s her pray.
My eyes are on her and I can’t really move, fascinated by her every move.
This woman is not like anybody else, and that monster massacre we’re on for a few weeks, it got me high on blood and on her. My body is filled with adrenaline, I’m horny and hungry constantly, my few hours of sleep are so deep I feel like dying every night…
“Y/n !” Sam calls her and she turns toward us.
I know my pupils dilate when her burning eyes find mine.
“Kill him” my brother almost whines.
She sighs, walking toward the car behind us, she hands me the gun when she walks pass me. It doesn’t entertain her anymore.
           I take three quick steps to him and put a bullet in the werewolf’s head. Sam puts three little drops of that magic oil she taught him to do, says the incantation, and the body catches fire. That fire that wont spread, but that won’t stop until nothing is left of his target. This thing changed our life…
             Tonight, Y/n has a room of her own.
When we can, we try to give her some privacy, and I have to sleep in a room so boring… a room that doesn’t have her in it.
“Y/n is really good” my brother says, putting his bag on his bed, but I know something bothers him. “And… I mean, with her we save twice more people.”
“But ?” I ask sternly, grabbing a beer in the fridge.
“She really likes to kill, Dean.”
“I do to, Sammy” I state honesty, able to admit it without a flinch now.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong” Sam ignores me. “I know she’s a good person and she proved a thousand times already that saving people was the real goal for her too. But she’s… I don’t know, wild ?”
When he says that, my heart misses a beat. She’s wild, yes, and she awakens something in me that I didn’t know.
“I feel like hunting with a time bomb sometimes” he sighs.
“I’ll talk to her” I say, ignoring the confused look on his face.
Of course, that was not what he was expecting, like you could just tell someone they’re a time bomb… But Y/n and I, we have a special relationship, and I really feel like I can tell her anything.
             I knock and she opens with her gun in her hand, smiling when she comes face to face with me.
“You need something ?” she asks, letting me in.
“Just talking” I state.
“Okay” she frowns. “I’ll take my shower, after. Whiskey ?”
I nod and she takes a big sip directly the bottle, handing it to me.
“Sam thinks you’re a time bomb” I declare with no introduction, drinking way too much from that bottle.
She freezes, chuckling a little with her eyebrows raised.
“Sammy’s afraid of me now ?”
“He’s not afraid” I grunt, feeling the alcohol increase my desire for her. “He thinks you’re wild.”
“Wild, huh ?” she laughs, a mocking expression in her voice and on the corner of her lips.
I want to make it disappear from her pretty face, I need to see this grin turn into that ecstasy face that looks like a slight pain. I lick my lips.
“Well Sweetheart, you are” my voice is suddenly lower and she starts searching my face.
“And is that a bad thing ?” she shrugs.
I get up, and come near her, feeling my blood boil in a feeling between an inexplicable anger and a raging desire.
“Are you untamable, tigress ?” I groan, my eyes going from her bloody cleavage to her amused face. “Do you think it’s funny ?”
“A little, yes” she chuckles when I make her walk back. “What do you think you’re doing, Caveman ?”
           I lose control of my hands and grip her waist, my nails digging in the black leather of that damn corset, crushing her body with mine against the wall.
           When I try to kiss her lips, she turns her head slightly, offering me her jaw to bite instead, and I do. She doesn’t want kisses, she doesn’t want anything tender. I would love to give her more than sex, but so be it…
           My hand finds her neck, taking it to keep her still and she groans.
           Her hands fly to the thigh holster she’s still wearing and grab her gun. In a split second, the barrel is pressed against my temple, but I don’t flinch.
“I could kill you just like that, Winchester” she groans and I still don’t move.
“Go ahead, tigress. Kill me.”
She smiles hand I start nibbling at her naked shoulders with that gun still on my head, rubbing myself on her like a freaking dog in heat, groaning in her ear, my thumb spreading the mix of blood and sweat on the side of her burning neck.
           When I let go of her neck to start undoing her pants, she bends and bites my shoulder, hard enough to make me scream in pain and wrap my hands around her throat again.
“Freaking cat” I grunt, struggling with her belt with only one hand.
           When I finally manage to open it, I slip my finger in it and she lets the gun fall loudly on the floor. My hand finds her folds, and a grin appears on my face.
“You’re soaked, how surprising is that ?” I let out in a growl, slipping my middle finger through her folds, teasing her clit and entrance.
“Fuck you, hunter” she groans, but a desperate moan escapes her lips and my cock twitches so hard it hurts. So I let go of her delicious pussy, the smell of her arousal coming out of her panties along with my fingers.
           With my shaking free hand, I almost rip my pants open and push it down, not realizing I’m squeezing her neck a little harder in my eagerness.
           Her face is red and her mouth agape, she licks her lips and another insolent smile appears on her beautiful face. I know I can’t let go of her or she will attack me or run away.
“Take your pants off” I command unable to do it myself, and she lets her head go back. “DO IT WILD CAT !”
           She pushes her jeans and panties down enough so I can take it off with my foot. And without losing another minute, I grab her thighs, spreading them for me, and carrying her.
“GRAH” she cries out when I enter her without any foreplay, burying myself between her throbbing walls in a sharp thrust.
           I could come right now, the tension accumulated in me for weeks making me as feral as she is in battle.
“Yes, fuck yes !” I moan is her neck, as I start to thrust toughly, banging her hips on the wall each time.
           She grabs my hair and tug at it hard, but I ignore the pain and keep chasing that ecstasy only her can give me so good.
“D-Dean…” she suddenly almost pleads, vulnerable.
I look up and notice she is struggling to breath.
“C-Corset” she whines.
Without withdrawing, I grab the knife on the table and brutally cut the lace caging her. The second I free her, she gasps and grabs my belt on the middle of my ass, encouraging me to take her harder.
           And I do.
           She can’t open her eyes now, her head back on the wall, her mouth open, and it’s too much for me to finally win that from her.
I reach my high so violently that I almost make the two of us fall, her hungry walls milking me strongly right away, her thighs shaking around me while her hands desperately try to push me.
“Y/N FUCK !” I yell, lost in both our orgasms mixing together.
             Panting in her neck, I dread the moment she will push me away. So I enjoy every single second against her skin like it was the last… It probably is anyway.
________________________
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illegiblewords · 4 years
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Notes under the cut!
These aren’t all of my lady WoLs, but they are some of my favorite designs and I tried to specifically show different things with each of them.
I think with design, beyond different silhouettes it’s worth it to be able to look at a character and get a sense of their personality and background. Sometimes lifestyle depending on how realistic you’re going, although Final Fantasy is a bit “fuck practicality we’re running on rule of pretty” lmao.
With these ladies specifically I also wanted to 1) pick fashions that would work well with the body types and proportions 2) create specific tones 3) play with expectations. I also, personally, wanted to explore different forms of femininity in a positive way. I’ve seen some cases where people seem to think the only way to have a “strong” woman is if she’s made traditionally masculine. I have no problem with traditionally masculine women by any means, but I’m really not into demonizing femininity either. So if I have the option to actually explore femininity in a game in positive ways I like to do that!
Nheu/Pink Miqo’te: I wanted to make her a kind of scrappy character, loud and probably a bit obnoxious, a shameless delinquent sort who immediately demands attention with neon color schemes. Going with Keeper of the Moon miqo’te let her have a toothy smile with little fangs too! I didn’t want her to look mysterious or alluring. This is one of my favorite archetypes tbh, I should really use it more.
Lagogeim/Turquoise Roegadyn: I wanted to make a dragoon who tied to Limsa Lominsa instead of Ishgard or even Gridania, who took the concept of Llymlaen with her harpoon and really built into the motif of pirates. So beyond evoking the sea as much as possible, I wanted to use an unnatural skin tone and hair color since people shy away from those a lot. I tried going for a harder fem look too for her--many roegadyn players embrace this angle so I decided to this time!
Eir/Blue Highlander: I’ve seen a stereotype that hyur highlanders have tall, sexy bodies but less attractive faces. I wanted to make a very short, cute looking highlander girl who isn’t the extreme end of curvy, give her a short/cute haircut that still felt strongly feminine, and pair that with a heavier, more traditionally masculine-perceived job like Warrior. I also tried to make her really, REALLY feel Ala Mhigan both in gear and color scheme/features--I drew some aspects of her coloring from Ilberd to be honest!
Asklona/Green Roegadyn: So I mentioned that a lot of people do hard fem looks for lady roegadyns very well, and I’ve seen critics go after femroes saying they have mannish bodies and ugly faces before. I disagree with that a lot, and decided in this case to go as soft and traditionally feminine as I could. I also went with the least saturated Sea Wolf color and tried playing with blushes/hair color combos to help her look a bit more natural (as opposed to blue/greenish) in this case. Another angle I went with was bard specifically to close the gap between Limsa Lominsa and Gridania, playing into siren and pirate themes since this character is a Sea Wolf. Beyond choosing green to fit with my Famfrit team in a unique way, I chose it as that bridge and because the green being a complementary color to red would make any pink hues stand out more!
Osk/Purple Viera: The stereotype I’ve seen for viera has involved them being hyper sexualized. I personally also rarely use brown hair or the color purple apparently so far as those choices go. What’s more, I wanted to make a look for the scholar job that would be a little more versatile, clearly not mistakable for any other job (healing or otherwise) and that would keep this particular character both elegant and more conservatively dressed. I didn’t want the character to feel like she’d hopped out of the woods either given that’s the most frequent angle for Viera--going a more urban direction was something I wanted to do as a contrast to that.
Nivienne/Gold Elezen: Wildwood elezen tend to be pushed with more natural skintones while Duskwights are more likely to have blue undertones that let them feel like drow. In this case I wanted to make a Wildwood elezen who, due to color combinations, felt fantasy-golden and a little otherworldly. I did a lot of designing to foil Emet-Selch in the name of fanfic lmao (use of gray and gold in different places to different degrees, height, etc.) but I also wanted to make a summoner character who, like scholar, felt extremely visually distinct from other casters. The biggest Summoner-specific look involves horns so that stayed, but for the rest I wanted there to be a flowing and mysterious feel. There was a critique I saw in the past that female casters end up looking like magical girls, so I wanted to challenge that. I also was careful with how the face and shoulders were framed to make sure that Nivienne would feel proportional, since that’s a potential risk for elezen.
Acja/Brass Viera: Another alternate take on dragoon! This time, I wanted to make a viera who tied to savanna aesthetics as a contrast to forest ones, and I did look at Sub-Saharan African fashions as influence. I couldn’t get things exact/used some “it’s Final Fantasy people wear five billion belts” artistic license (and offhand I don’t remember the exact country I used, it might have involved Ghana’s historical armor?) but I tried to match silhouettes, materials, shoes, etc. as best I could. Part of this is also that I know African visuals get used less often in video games, which is a shame because they’re incredibly gorgeous and distinct! So Acja is one design where I did try to bring that in.
Kokono/Orange Lalafell: I’ve seen people lament lack of canine race options in FFXIV and honestly, I agree with that sentiment. We have so many cats and it would have been cool to get dog options. Since it’s not an in-game thing though, I figured this was an opportunity to make the type of character instead. In this case, I used the dark nose option for lalafells and combined with pieces from the werewolf set to make a little fox! She has a few different influences to her visuals due to backstory stuff, but I do think there are ways to make more foxes and small dogs for lalafells as well as wolves for Hellsguard roegadyns.
Eshe/Yellow Au Ra: Another African-influenced design, this one tying to Ethiopian historical fashion and armor! Same rules apply though, the top goes hugely with the “it’s Final Fantasy” brand of artistic license. I know au ra are mostly associated with Othard/Eastern regions, so I decided to shift things to a different tone while trying to keep things fully immersive. I made Eshe a paladin because the swords and shields have some options that resemble African sword designs (WHICH ARE SO FUCKING COOL) and I wanted to try a different tone for paladin from the Western knight-in-shining-armor as well. I didn’t want Eshe to feel overly cutesy or innocent, but did want her to feel very graceful and strong.
Mitsu/Red Midlander: A few things hit me in combination here. First, I’d been nerfing myself to a degree with hyur midlanders when I knew there was an approach I liked. Second, I haven’t seen a lot of traditional-looking characters from Othard and I wanted to switch that up. By this I mean that looking at Far Eastern NPCs, often they are midlander hyurs with black, dark brown, or occasionally gray hair. Not a ton of dye. I love that the Warrior of Light could come from anywhere, so I tried to design someone who credibly could have been an NPC in Kugane. She’s a summoner because there is an Othard tradition of summoning, and she wears red because to my knowledge it has symbolism for good luck in both Japan and China besides being pretty. I also wanted to make a very different summoner (and general caster) visual compared to Nivienne.
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moonah-rose · 4 years
Text
Two Pairs of Glasses and a Bottle of Red
Chidi goes to say thank you to Michael for being there for Eleanor.
“Hey…Did I go back in time?”
It probably seems that way, Michael smirks, considering the multiple boxes containing Hawaiian pizza that have been stacked up around his new office.
“Welcoming present from Shawn and Vicky, I reckon.” He says to Chidi, waving a few of them away to allow him entry, the Professor having to slide around them in order to reach the chair in front of Michael’s desk.
His request for a perfect replica of his previous office had otherwise been met to the last detail. It had simply come with the extra bonus of seventy boxes of pizza only a mad man would eat.
He can’t be too annoyed. As demonic hazing attempts go, this one seems rather light-hearted. Almost nostalgic. Perhaps he really was getting the chance to repair some burned bridges with his former colleagues. It wasn’t something that ever appealed to him before but is oddly satisfying now.
“How does it feel to be back?” asks his friend.
Michael shrugs, “Weird. Kinda miss my second neighbourhood already. I know it wasn’t around as long as my first one but it felt like part of the same one, y’know? It’s good to know it’s still there this time. I wish you had all agreed stay there rather than coming here with me.”
Even with Shawn’s guarantee of the humans protection that binds the rest of the demon, Michael can’t help but be weary. He knows there’s a lot of employees unhappy with the shake-up, more than half who are perfectly happy torturing humans as their job, whether they deserve it or not. They would be more than ready to take their work frustrations out on the four people who are the reason for this shake up, the first one in fifty thousand years. Even Janet stands the risk of being marbleized again if she lets her guard down, it wouldn’t be the first time.
He wishes they had agreed to stay tucked safe back at the Good Place 2.0. But the little cockroaches had been stubborn as ever.
“Are you kidding? As if we’d let you have all the fun sorting out dimension of frustrated demons on our own.” Chidi smiles.
“I never thought I’d see you describe having to deal with a bunch of demons as fun.”
Another way of saying that, of all the infinite wonders of the Universe he’s experienced, he never thought he’d get to see Chidi be cool.
“Don’t get me wrong, I still wanna scream like a little girl when one of the lava monsters passes me. But then it says hi and I remember it’s just Todd.”
Good to know confident Chidi can still be scared when Michael feels an old desire. He’ll remember that.
Even he feels the need to relive old habits at times. In a safe, harmless, controlled way of course.
“Did you need me to help with anything, pal?” He asks, “I thought you and Eleanor would be getting settled into your new apartment? They cleaned out the rat-snakes, right?”
Not the best living quarters but he tried to find the comfiest temporary homes for all of them, not able to design and build them their own places as before in this area where he has no control as an Architect. He at least managed to get Tahani a penthouse suite, even if it is at the top of a volcano.
“You didn’t tell us those were the previous occupants, they had to come back to collect some stuff they left. But it’s all good, I left Eleanor to ‘wear in the new couch and test drive the TV’ as she put it.”
Michael smiles to himself. After the year she’s had, she more than deserves to put her feet up. He doesn’t tell Chidi how little she slept while he went away. Not that she needed it, or that Michael didn’t try to encourage it, but he reckons she could now sleep for a week if she wanted.
“Actually…Eleanor is kinda why I’m here.” Chidi admits, Michael noticing the serious change in his tone.
“Oh. Did you wanna sit down?” He gestures to the chair, waving his hand again to clear it of more of the boxes.
Chidi shakes his head, hands in his pockets.
“No thanks, I’m gonna need to stand.”
“Why’s that?” Michael frowns.
“Because there’s a chance I might hug you and this will make it less awkward.”
Michael goes still, not sure how to respond to that. There’s always been an unspoken physical distance between him and the Professor, more so than with any of the other humans. He’d had the most hugs with Eleanor, followed by Jason’s which always left him smelling jalapenos, and a few recent ones with Tahani (which, he couldn’t deny, were simply amazing, how on Earth could he parents not adore her?!). The most contact he’d had with Chidi was a fist bump on the few times they saw eye-to-eye.
Not that Michael can blame the guy for wanting to keep a safe distance, given how he used to be the main target of Michael’s more jerky conduct in the past. He’s probably only now stopped expecting him to splatter him with fake blood or a shower of needles.
“I wanted to say thank you.”
“…Thank me? For what exactly?” The three hundred years of torture that he’d recently been accessed to?
“For…everything, man.” Chidi says, face lighting up with gratitude; “For taking my classes seriously…eventually. For saving us, even when it cost you literally everything you had been working for until then…Sacrificing yourself for us, bringing us back from the dead, saving us, donating all that money to make sure we were okay and then helping to save, not only us, but humanity itself, I mean…You really weren’t expecting a few thank yous thrown your way?”
Michael looks away, feeling the heat rise beneath the cheeks of his skin suit. He didn’t do any of it expecting a thank you and, up until now, he hadn’t really received any. A few unspoken, grateful smiles from the others, a pleasant stroke of his arm, but never the two words said aloud.
“I’d do it all over again.” He says, earnestly, still not believing it was enough to undo the centuries of psychological harm he’d inflicted on them to begin with.
“I believe you. I mean, I’ll be honest, when you first started taking my classes, there was a point I thought you were beyond help but…I can tell you with the utmost sincerity…I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of one of my students.”
Oh, fork, the pesky nerd is going to bring him to tears.
Michael sniffs; “Yeah, well…I had an amazing teacher. You only have yourself to thank. And Eleanor, obviously…She’s the one who got me to take all your ethical nonsense seriously.”
If not for her, he’d still be sat at his desk in his old office with his feet up, refusing to budge, refusing to be the bigger not-man and apologize and admit he needs help. Shawn might jokingly call him a demon daddy but it was the two of them together who got him to grow up.
Chidi gives a wistful smile; “Yeah…Eleanor is the answer. That’s clearer to me than ever.”
Damn straight.
“Thank you for looking after her for me this year.”
Those words make something buckle deep within Michael. His thumb starts to itch at his side.
“You should know her well enough by now to know she usually has to be the one looking after me.” He tries to laugh it off but there’s an uncomfortable stinging in his chest.
What is wrong with him?
“We both know she’s not invulnerable as she likes to pretend. Leaving her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do…but I had no choice.”
Yes, you did, Michael stops himself from saying, the ethical voice in his chastising his own.
“I know.” Is what he says instead.
He respects the guy for not letting himself be a potential risk to the experiment and everyone’s eternal safety. He’s been there himself.
“I remember seeing you two together, when I was ‘away’ all that time.” He says, again surprising Michael with the brief use of air quotes – who is this guy? “You looked like you had fun together, ruling that fake Heaven. You were always smiling together. Right up until the end, I mean, that evil laugh the two of you did....I know she enjoyed that, even if it was terrifying for me at the time. I’m glad to know she was okay…And I think a lot of that is down to you.”
He rubs the back of his neck, trying not to remember the feel of her hips in his hands when he’d grabbed her waist during their Hail Mary; “Or maybe Eleanor is just that strong-willed…”
“That too but…C’mon, man, I know you care about her as much as I do.”
More than the dweeb could ever know, Michael thinks to himself. He never intended to play favorites and he appreciates all of them in their own special way; Tahani’s grace, Jason’s optimism, Chidi’s kindness as much as his intellect…But Eleanor…Eleanor was as much like himself as he could ever hope to meet and yet, somehow, a thousand times better. Braver, wiser, sharper…Everything he could only dream of being.
“I’m just relieved to know that, if I have to go away again, she’ll always have you there.” Chidi says, softly.
That buckling sensation inside Michael finally snaps.
He clenches his jaw.
“No.”
Chidi blinks; “Sorry?”
“I said no.” The voice of his long-buried demon husk rears its head; “You’re not to go away again, do you hear? You’re not allowed to…leave her again.”
“I…”
The Professor inches back a bit as Michael makes a move forward, the desk his only protection from the demon grabbing him by his sweater-vest.
“You think she was all smiles and laughter during the past year?” He growls, “Let me tell you something, buddy, those were just glimpses of your girlfriend you saw there as you passed us on the street or at all those events! You didn’t have to stay up with her all those nights she cried over how much she missed you or how worried she was that having to put you with Simone would change your feelings for her, all because you were too much of a dummy to help that woman out without believing she was your soul mate!”
He sees the other man recoil at that, wincing with shame. Michael suffers the recoil, feeling the twist in his gut, but now that the bottle cap on his emotions has been popped, he has a years worth of anger and resentment to spill.
“Did my little reload of all your memories happen to miss out that time you saw her break down in tears because you told her you felt like you were being punished?! Because I’d convinced her you needed to be tortured so you would stop flitting around like you were on vacation and actually lend a hand to help that deckwad Brent, but she went too far, because she was rightly pissed at you for leaving and ended up hating herself for it! And yeah, I admit, I was pissed at you too for breaking her heart when I’d trusted you, of all people, to take care of it!”
He can see Chidi’s shoulders hunched now, a grimace appearing on his face as a stomach-ache brews within him. Good. He’s not immune to those. They’re just no longer rendering him immobile with pain.
“The last thing I wanted to do was hurt…”
“Then you should’ve thought about that before you left! You should have gotten over your stupid anxiety about Simone before considering leaving her! What on Earth is wrong with you, man?! How could you be so lucky to fall in love with Eleanor Shellstrop and be blessed to have her love you back, and then agree to forget her?! After everything she’s been through, how could you do that to her?! How could you think it was okay to leave her with me as a piss poor substitute and then have the gaul to waltz back in here after a year and say ‘thanks for looking after her’?! You don’t deserve her!”
He regrets those last four words before they’ve passed his lips.
By the time the red mist has parted from his eyes, he sees the tears in Chidi’s eyes as they lock across the desk. Michael’s throat goes dry. He takes a step back back, only noticing how wet his own eyes are when he finally blinks. Oh shit. How could he say that? As if thinking it had been bad…Had been wrong enough, but to finally…
“Chidi. I am…Oh, I am so, so sorry…” He breathes.
The other man doesn’t respond. He doesn’t deny the accusations, which somehow makes it worse.
The most agonising of silences hangs between them before they seem to move at the exact same moment. The both of them removing their glasses at the same time to give them a wipe, Michael using his handkerchief while Chidi uses his sleeve.
“Damn, these things steam up quick, huh…” Chidi says, awkwardly, his voice broken.
Michael gives a weak smile; “I don’t even need mine, they’re just for aesthetic…Speaking of which, if you ever want me to fix that astigmatism, just say, you shouldn’t really have it dead.”
“No, no, it’s fine…Like you said, it’s part of the look.”
Michael lets out a sigh, partly relieved to get those words out, awful as they are. He’s eternally grateful that the other man didn’t storm out of the room and slam the door. He wouldn’t have blamed him. It hurt enough that he no longer had Eleanor at his side, his partner in crime and saving the Universe, her constant shining spirit and quick-wit lighting up the room. It hurt knowing that her time and companionship had been prioritised to someone more worthy of her. He’d tried so hard to ignore the ache of her missing presence, when it had only been a couple of days since the experiment ended. He should have remembered that burying his sadness only made it worse in the long run. One of her first lessons and he’d forgot.
He was the one who didn’t deserve her. How dare he ever say that Chidi was the one to blame in all of this, after everything the man had given up, had missed out on?
With another wave of his hand, Michael summons a bottle of merlot, one of Chidi’s favorite vintages, along with a couple of glasses. His friend sniffs again, giving a grateful smile. They’re both in need of a drink.
They each take a glass and a seat at either edge of the desk, their backs to each other.
Michael takes a sip and then looks down at the glass in his lap.
“What’s it like?” He dares to ask, after a while, “….Being with her?”
There’s a pause behind him.
“…You’re asking me what love feels like?”
He shakes his head; “I know what being in love feels like.” That might say more than enough, “…I’m asking how it feels to have her love you back.”
Michael has been content on the scraps of affection he gets, like a dog sitting at his master’s table at dinner, those smiles and jokes and fleeting hugs more than enough to keep him grateful and satisfied with the place he’s honoured to take in Eleanor’s heart. But he’s not entirely reformed, there’s still a tiny wicked side that dares to be greedy, that dares to…imagine, what it would be like to be truly hers. Surely, just once, he can be allowed to live vicariously.
Once again, he’s amazed that Chidi doesn’t chew him out, smash him over the head with the wine bottle and leave. Instead he hears the Professor take another sip.
“How do I describe it? I mean…I’ve had girlfriends before, as you know, but I never…I was in never truly in love before her.” He explains, heavily; “When I’m with her, when she’s with me…It’s like all those difficult questions and puzzles of the Universe suddenly fit. Or what remains unsolved fades into the background and…I stop worrying about it all. Because all I need to know, when she’s there…is that she’s there. She looks at me and, wherever we are in these insane dimensions we keep falling through, from Heaven to Hell, to that weird pancake nightmare…So long as she’s with me…I belong. I’m home.”
Michael smiles, moving his hand up to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. He always assumed it would feel something like that, based on the fleeting sense of peace he found in those moments with Eleanor. He’d never felt at home in Hell, with his fellow demons. He already knew he would never be accepted or belong with those dorky angels on the other side. The closest he had ever come to feeling at home was on Earth and that was also off the table. He’d spent his whole existence as an ugly duckling searching for swans that were probably long extinct.
But he knew what being part of a home…a family, felt like, a little. Especially during the past year, when they were a team, there were times he could almost convince himself that where he was always meant to be was at her side. Her equal. Two sides of the same coin. But every time that hope of feeling complete at last would appear, it would be cruelly snatched away, every time that grief of missing her true love appeared on her face. And he would be lost again.
“You’re a lucky man, Chidi.” He tells his friend, truly.
He hears him shuffle to look around behind him; “You know she loves you too? Right?”
He shrugs; “Yeah, sure…”
“C’mon, Michael. I’ve seen the two of you together, since you joined up with us.” Chidi tries, reaching to touch his elbow; “You’re like…a part of her. She needs you as much as me.”
He wishes there was truth to that.
“Tell me something, man,” He asks, looking down at the fingers on his arm; “How many tears did Eleanor shed over me after I gave her my pin and sent her through the portal after you guys?”
Chidi slowly brings his hand back to his lap.
“I…Uhm…” he frowns; “Well, we didn’t really have time for that…She wasn’t exactly skipping about it-.”
“Did she mention me once again before me and Janet turned up?”
The other man doesn’t respond.
“Thought not.” Michael refills his glass; “And rightly so, you guys had way more important things at hand. But, let’s be honest, if it had been you who was left behind, she would have screamed at that Judge to get you to come join her, or fought her way back through Hell to get to you…It’s always been you, Chidi, it always will. In every reboot, lovers or not, you were the missing piece she sought out. I’m grateful to be her friend but let’s not pretend we’re on equal footing. It’s not fair on either of us.”
“I think you doing yourself a disservice-.”
“Has she told you about Bad Janet yet?” Michael cuts in again; “That was a fun night. I mean it sucked, it was one of the worst of the year, but it was…interesting, if nothing else. We had no idea what was sabotaging the experiment and, to cut a long story short, the suspicion fell on me being the spanner in the works. The only thing I could do to restore Eleanor’s trust in me was offer to blow myself up.”
“WHAT?!” Chidi exclaims, nearly spilling his wine.
“Oh, you wait till I get to the part where Jason figures it out and saves the day!”
“Okay, now I know you’re lying.”
They manage to share another brief laugh. It’s a lot easier to find it funny now, all these months on, despite it being the night Michael’s heart was shattered and, despite everything good that came after, created a crack that was still waiting to be repaired. Possibly never.
“Point is…She barely said a word against me taking myself out. But you? I mean, you had to convince her just to forget her for a year and look what it did to her.” Michael says, “I could vanish from her life tomorrow and, sure, she’d be bummed…but if it was you? Even in death, she wouldn’t survive that. That’s how much you mean to her. Don’t ever take it for granted.”
Michael knows he won’t. He just needed to give him that kick in the ash to be certain he knew how serious this was. For both of them.
“I’m sorry.” The professor whispers.
“What for?” Michael asks, “You did the one thing I never could. You made the woman we both love happy. I’m just glad I get to share in that, even if I’m not the cause.”
He hears Chidi put down his glass on the desk and stand up. Michael takes it as his cue to get on his feet as well, turning to face the other man.
“I’d quite like to give you that hug now, if that’s all right.” He says.
Michael rolls his eyes, as if inconvenienced.
“I suppose, if you must.”
Chidi takes the first step to bridge the gap between them, holding his arms out as Michael mirrors his movements and they share their first embrace. He hopes it’s one of many to come.
He can’t help but be surprised, as ever, by the tightness of the other man’s hold. It was always easy to forget how strong he was underneath that dorky outfit, those jacked arms and pecks strangely reassuring to the touch. He can understand the appeal for Eleanor. It seemed more forgivable now for her to constantly tease him of his own physical shortcoming compared to the man she loved.
“I hope you know how much you mean to all of us. Not just Eleanor.” The Professor tells him, as sternly as he used to lecture him in the past.
He gives the guy’s shoulders a pat.
“I do, buddy.”
Chidi is the first to move back, his hands still firm on Michael’s arms as he regards him, intently.
“She doesn’t know, does she?” He asks, “You never told her?”
Michael shakes his head, heavy with regret he can’t begin to describe.
“I was going to. When Janet saved me from Shawn, as we were going through the portal, I told myself…” He takes a breath, “I told myself that I’d been given a second chance and that, next time I saw her, I’d tell her. I’d tell her how I felt and I’d ask if she felt the same and…Take it from there.”
“What happened to that plan?”
Michael can’t help but laugh. It’s amazing what an idiot the genius can be at times.
“You kissed her first, dummy.”
And when he saw the smile on her face...how he could ever dare to come between anything that made her that happy again?
The door opens and Eleanor strides in, a bounce in her step that hasn’t been there for almost thirteen months.
Even with the office in a new location, she’s able to treat it as if it’s Michael’s usual home, free for her to walk in and own when she pleases. The demon behind the desk who quickly steps back doesn’t complain, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Well, don’t you two look all cosy!” She says, brightly; “You guys having a pizza party without me?”
Her arms immediately wrap around Chidi’s neck and he greets her with a kiss on the lips.
“Ham and pineapple, babe,” He doesn’t tell her she missed out on the wine, that can be their little secret; “But if you fancy pizza for dinner, Todd recommended a place on the corner of our street?”
“Oh yeah, they do a great meat feast…I mean, some of the salami used to be sliced humans but I’m pretty sure Shawn is recalling all of those.” Michael says, off-hand.
Eleanor barely seems to hear his commentary.
Her eyes are focused purely on the man she’s been pining for all these months, hands hooked behind his neck, humming as she presses her nose against his. Michael looks away, knowing he’s no more than a blurry shape in the corner of her eye now.
“Whatever, I’m starving…You’ve kept me waiting long enough, dude, time to fill me up.” She says to Chidi, her voice low but not quite subtle; “And we can food too, I guess.”
“Eleanor!” Her boyfriend blushes on behalf of the third wheel having to listen in.
“Oh, it’s just Michael, he knows what filth to expect from me, right bud?” She says aloud without looking at him again, merely expecting him to be there.
Would it even matter how he responded?
Would she hear him if he confessed, out loud, how he wished it was his chest that she was leaning against, his shoulders she was hanging from, her lips against his? Would she react with anything other than laughter if he told her about what he was planning to do at the Judge’s chambers all those years ago?
“Our love is stronger than anything you can throw at us.”
Even his own, he humbly accepts.
“Michael, do you wanna join us for dinner?” Chidi asks.
Before the demon can respond, Eleanor does it for him.
“Oh I’m sure Michael wants a break after having to put up with me for a year, right dude?” Eleanor gives him her first direct look since she entered, followed by a wink.
Of course. He wasn’t going to intrude anyway, but he’s nothing if not a good wingmon.
“I’ll be fine, I’ve had more than enough pizza for one day….You guys should catch up. You’ve only got eternity together.” He smiles.
Eleanor mouths a ‘thank you’ before leaning back up to kiss Chidi’s bottom lip again.
Anytime… He sighs and looks away, Anytime, I’m yours.
Every kiss he watches them share is both parts pleasure and pain. Obviously, he’ll take the truth with him to retirement or whatever his end will be. No way would he risk tarnishing what they have. He’s happy to remain in the shadows, grateful to be allowed to watch the light shine nearby, even if it’s forever beyond his touch, beyond the cruel hope of getting to feel that warmth on the skin of a body that isn’t truly his.
“Well…if you horny mammals don’t mind, some of us have some work to do.” He puts on the smug superior being mask again, “And you’re no longer my boss, Shellstrop, so I’m gonna take this opportunity to tell you to get out.”
“What d’you say to me?” She throws him a glare.
Fuck. Nope. Damn it, she’s still in charge.
“I mean…Have a good time at dinner.”
She giggles, knowing full well the power she wields over the two men in the room.
“That’s better.” She looks back up at Chidi, eyes shining with a joy they’ve not possessed in far too longer; “Let’s go, my new confident, sexy nerd.”
“Do you still have to call me a nerd?”
“Take the damn compliments.” She tugs on his hand, pulling him out of the room with her.
Michael puts the wine away.
“I’ll see you guy later…” He wishes, as casually as he can.
“Yeah, see you, bud.” Eleanor throws back, her mind clearly on more important things, with barely enough room left in her horny, lovesick brain to pay him notice anymore.
Chidi, however, meets his eyes, almost apologetic again, on her behalf.
“Don’t be a stranger, Michael.” He tells him, almost as an order.
The demon nods. No, sir.
“You know where to find me.” Always right there, for all of them.
Despite the hallow ache in his hearts, despite knowing that spark, that unbeatable connection he shared with the woman he loves, is now gone, that he’ll always be looking in from the outside, left out with his memories of what they could have been…He keeps Chidi’s words in his head. It might be the end of whatever beautiful mess he had with one of his humans, but perhaps it’s also the start of a friendship he didn’t realise how badly he needed with another.
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in-tua-deep · 5 years
Note
I want to hear the au!!! Fae stuff is my JAM
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OKAY OKAY OKAY so it goes like this
The Handler is fae, she’s fae fae. One of the most fae members of the fae you will ever meet. No one knows her True Name, and she’s just ‘the Handler’ and she likes to collect oddities. And so when she learns that children all over the world are being born without that pesky nine month pregnancy?
Oh, she has to have one
and let’s say that fae don’t have children the same way that humans do, so really it’s nothing at all to obtain a squishy round faced infant of her very own for a single purpose. A fae made child, because there are rules about taking from humans, and one of the rules is to leave something equal to what you take. A child for a child. 
A changeling.
So she wraps up her new bundle of joy dismissively, because fae children aren’t special. Not to her at least. She could get a fae child for her collection any day of the week! No, she wants one of the neat little miracle babies. So she gives the little baby to a minion and tells them to swap the baby with one of the mothers giving birth all around the world at that very moment 
(but surely between learning about it and forming her plan and obtaining the fae child to switch, she would have missed her window of opportunity, right? You would think, but time between the fae and mortal realms is such a tricky thing)
so the minion goes and finds a mother who is alone and screaming. She’s panting and covered in sweat and in a bad way, and there’s a tiny little baby wailing, cord cut and wrapped in the mother’s jacket. And the mother has her head thrown back and is panting through the afterbirth and it’s the perfect opportunity to switch them - 
and then something happens. Something happens that makes the minion leave very quickly, without a human baby in their arms. Without a fae baby in their arms. There are other creatures in the world besides the fae, after all. Forgotten creatures who were perhaps, in their time, hailed as fertility deities, or protectors of childbirth. Patrons. People often don’t believe in them anymore, but they do their jobs where they are able
(There’s a reason changelings are usually only swapped after all that mess and nonsense is done with, switched in their cradles. But the Handler was impatient, and wanted to be sure no one else got there before her)
The mother is half delirious with pain, and let’s be real information about things like pregnancy are atrocious. She assumes that the afterbirth was a Whole Second Baby when she finally manages to get herself together and just sort of assumes she cut the second cord in a daze and picks up this second naked baby who is also crying and strips off her shirt to wrap him as well and places both babies next to one another as she breathes and tries to figure out her next step
and honestly most babies look the same when they first come out. Squishy and red and like tiny little aliens. She doesn’t think anything of it. They both had wisps of dark hair plastered to their little heads (in Luther’s case, this would change into a bright blond but the hair children are born with often don’t stay anyway)
So the woman calls 911 and gets an ambulance and stutters out an explanation about how she’s just had two babies in an alley and she wasn’t even pregnant and she doesn’t know what to do and -
and then she’s in a hospital with her two little baby boys wrapped up and given a clean bill of health and she’s still reeling when a billionaire comes waltzing into her room and offers to buy the babies from her
and look. she knows she isn’t in a good place at the moment. She wouldn’t be able to take care of one unexpected child, let alone two. And this man is wealthy, and if she gets the money then she can go back to school, and clearly he has the resources to take care of these kids
so she signs on the dotted line and the man in the monocle departs with both children and that is that
and maybe the Handler would have just killed her minion and tried again, swapped Luther out in his cradle within the manor. But Reginald is smart and suspicious and knows far more than he probably should
(maybe he has fae blood as well. maybe he’s the human counterpart of a changeling, who managed to escape the fae realm. maybe he’s got fae in his bloodline, somewhere way far back. maybe he knew someone faeblooded. but any way you slice it, reginald knows just this side of two much)
the manor is warded. none can enter without invitation.
(there’s a reason why none of the umbrella academy went missing. why there were no break in attempts. nothing. even humans cannot penetrate the fortress of wards without an invitation.)
the children are safe. for now. 
and maybe the Handler growls (because there’s a deal uncompleted, a child given with nothing taken in return, and it rankles) but hey there are a lot of other children lurking out there that Reginald didn’t get his hands on. And if they’re discarded, or abandoned, or if she waits and bides her time to step out and greet a toddler who unthinkingly offers her their true name well, she only needs one for her collection of oddities. 
(or maybe she doesn’t. maybe she needs the whole set. maybe she’s the reason Reginald Hargreeves only gets his hands on 7 children, because the others vanished without a trace. there’s more than one way to skin a cat, there’s more than one way to steal a child without a changeling. but changelings are traditional and the Handler couldn’t resist using at least one)
and maybe the Handler does try - the invitation clause is a tricky one to get around but with the right minion who owes her a favor and send them in as a prospective nanny - 
Reginald catches the nanny about to lead all the children off to have a ‘picnic in the park’ and fires her on the spot. He’s already dealing with number Seven killing some, so it’s the best choice for him to remove any outsiders from the equation entirely
enter: Grace
and number Five is just a child. But even as a toddler, he knows he’s different. 
None of the others have to tell the truth. Lies don’t burn like embers in their throats, they can just hurl falsehoods around like it’s easy. Five knows he stares the first time number Four lies to a nanny about something broken.
None of the others are bound to their word. The first time one of them breaks a promise, tells on him when they said they wouldn’t, forgets something they said they would do, Five is boggled. How can they forget? How can they break their bond? 
Even though Five hasn’t been in the fae realm since the day he was born, he knows the rules. Printed on his bones, etched into the marrow.
Don’t tell anyone your True Name.
Don’t lie.
Don’t break your word.
Repay your debts.
Iron burns. 
and a handful of others, scorched into his soul. None of the others know these unspoken rules, and they don’t seem like the sort of things he should be bothering Reginald with. So he doesn’t.
The others start getting their powers, and Five thinks: what are my powers?
Parting the fabric of the world was an accident. Reginald writes it down as ‘spatial jumping’ and he knows a lot so Five doesn’t correct him.
He’s not teleporting, not really. He simply slips between the fabric of this world and the next and then pops back out into the moral realm in a different place. Easy. 
(He still doesn’t walk into the fae realm, not yet.)
and this would be fine, except this is not normal for even the fae. Fae aren’t supposed to walk between the worlds. They’re supposed to walk on one, or the other, never between. 
(Five was always good at adapting.)
They’re still children when they’re offered names. They’re children when Five refuses, because he has a Name. No one knows his Name except him, of course, but he doesn’t want a fake name in its place. He is Five, and Five is him.
(in another world, if the Handler had kept him and pretended to love him, if she’d she’d made him love her, he might have offered his name to her freely given. but she thought him a pawn, a bargaining chip, and so this will never be that world)
They’re a little older when they debut, when they leave the safety of the manor. When Five has to kill for the first time. 
(It’s to protect his siblings, and so he does it gladly. It seems like people never notice the monsters that seem to be so interested in the Umbrella Academy. The men and women who are unnaturally beautiful, with dead eyes and deader smiles. Five protects his siblings.)
There is safety in numbers (and Reginald was so smart, stopping at seven. it’s a powerful number, and protects them more than they know) and they have each others backs
and then Five is thirteen and foolish and angry. He leaves the dining table, and even knowing that it’s not safe, he runs out the door. He’s only planning on being out for maybe an hour before going to face the music of his latest outburst.
(he’s gone for a lot longer than an hour)
He’s taken, and something isn’t right, and then he’s being deposited with surprising gentleness in front of a woman with blond hair and red lipstick who makes him want to go still and freeze. every instinct in him screams that this is a dangerous predator.
“Who are you?” Five asks, fear making his voice shake.
“Why what a silly question,” The woman says with a too sharp smile with too sharp teeth, “I’m your mother.”
She introduces herself as the Handler, and she’s old and powerful and she wants to know how he travels. She wants him to teach her, and she smiles so sweetly and offers him food and sweets.
Some instinct has Five tilting his head and asking her if the food is freely given.
The Handler throws her head back and laughs and calls him a clever boy. But she doesn’t answer his question.
Five has been a master of misdirection his entire life, he knows how to skirt around the boundary of a lie without crossing it. Knows how to walk the knife edge of truth like every other fae.
He does not take the food. He refuses to teach her. 
So he’s trapped in her castle. There are no doors and no windows to the outside world, and the castle is hers in its entirety. She moves the halls and rooms around at a whim, so that he can never get his bearings. He can’t use his powers in her home without her permission. Another fae rule. 
(She skirts around lies like a master, she makes him dizzy and disorientated. Still, he refuses to put himself in her debt. He knows he would never leave this place if he did.)
And so he stays there, and he has no good way to measure the days (not that it would help. he’s in the fae realm, time is different here) and he plans. 
The Handler comes to him every day. She brushes her hands through his hair and pinches his cheeks and plays the saccharine sweet role of doting mother. 
(“You are mine,” She tells him, eyes like fire, “I made you. I own you. All you have to do is teach me your tricks, my darling, and I will give you the world.”
The terrifying thing is, she can’t lie. She believes it.)
She gives him a room with a too soft bed and as many toys as a child could ask for. He wants to ask her if she knows how old he is, but refrains. It’s probably another tactic to humiliate him.
(Even so, there’s no one else in the castle. He sees flickers in the corners of his eyes, but the Handler’s minions report only to her. He is lonely, so very lonely. If he gets attached to a teddy bear with a pink bow that he halting dubs ‘Dolores’, then the Handler need never know, right?)
The Handler often talks about the human world in abstract terms. She also talks a lot about an event she calls ‘The End’. He asks her about it only once, and she croons at him and tells him all about the apocalypse. “Your siblings try to stop it,” She tells him gleefully just to see if she can make him cry, “They die, all of them. Isn’t that wonderful? No more humans! They were a blight on the world anyway. It will be so much more efficient without them, won’t it?”
And Five can’t let that happen. He pokes and he prods and he gets every scrap of information he can. He knows three things: 1) his siblings try to stop it and they die, 2) the apocalypse is scheduled to happen April 1st, 2019, and 3) a man with a false eye is involved. And while he gets that information, he tries to figure out a way to go home.
Every day when the Handler comes to see him, Five asks her a question. “Can I go outside?”
He justifies it a million different ways. Vitamin D and being a child and missing the sun and so on and so forth.
Every day she smiles and says, “If I let you out, Five, will you try to escape?”
And every day he stays silent, because there’s no way to answer that question honestly in a way that will get him what he needs.
Until finally, he thinks his way into a solution.
(The Fae can’t lie, but they can omit facts, can mislead and trick with the best of them.)
“If I let you out, Five, will you try to escape?” The Handler asks him
Five lets his head hang low. He squeezes Dolores to his side in a way he knows makes him look like a defeated child. “No,” He says dully, and listens to the Handler laugh in delight at the thought that she’s finally broken him.
I won’t try to escape. Five thinks to himself, the thought hot in the back of his throat, I’ll succeed.
So the Handler lets him out, plans to take him and show him some of the realm, and Five smiles brilliantly and he’s not in her castle. He’s not in her home. He can do what he wishes. So he falls forward, sees the Handler’s face twist as she shouts, and he laughs as he falls through the between and, for the first time, punches through the other side.
He falls into the courtyard of the manor, and looks up, and there’s a whole bunch of adults in front of him. But if he squints, he can see the faces of the children they were. They’re his siblings.
“Five?” One of them - Vanya? - steps forward, and Five can’t help but take a step back, quick and frightened as his mind races a mile a minute. Dolores is in his hands still and a comfort as he squeezes her against his ribs and scans the various faces. One two three four five faces. There’s one missing. Ben, where is Ben?
“How long was I gone?” Five asks, only a little bit hysterically thanks. He surely couldn’t be gone long enough for his siblings to be adults what the fuck. Okay yeah, Five himself hadn’t been able to track the days or anything but - he wasn’t an adult. He looked the same. He’d thought it had maybe been a few months or - or maybe years at most and he know time is screwy in the fae realm but this is ridiculous -
“Seventeen years.” Vanya tells him, face soft and open and vulnerable and Five can’t help it.
He breaks. 
And maybe it’s the shock of your presumed dead brother who is thirteen showing up in the courtyard with clothes just that side of too nice and a teddy bear who was always the strongest who is now crying but everything is pretty much derailed. They all bundle Five inside and sit him down and ask him essentially what the fuck.
And what Five tells them shocks them. Because he didn’t run away, he’d never run away.
He’d been taken. 
He leaves out the parts about the Handler being his mother (because quite frankly he still wasn’t prepared to handle that thanks) but he tells them in halting words about the fae. He’s lucky that Reginald knew something, because Pogo ends up backing him up and getting everyone to believe what’s coming out of his mouth. 
He tells them about the castle with no doors, about the food he could not eat, about the sharp eyed woman who laughed as she told him how his siblings would die. 
“Don’t you think she could have just - lied?” Luther asks, and Five gives him a look like he’s an idiot.
“Of course not,” Five tells him, “We can’t lie.”
“We?” Diego cuts in, knife catching the light and Five realizes that he forgot to include the most important detail of all. 
So he explains in halting words. Hadn’t they wondered why Five never ever lied?
(“I thought it was because you were an arrogant bastard who thought you could take whatever punishment good old dad could dish out.” Klaus admits freely, and gets a few sheepish nods from the others in agreement.)
Hadn’t they wondered about Five’s inability to touch iron?
(“Wait so that’s not an allergy?” Allison interjects and well, it sort of is like an allergy so Five can’t exactly say it’s not?)
“What happened to the original Five then?” Diego asks abrasively, because he’s always been the one to pick a fight. Five’s eyes slide over to Luther, because the Handler liked to talk a lot, and everyone notices.
“What?” Luther demands, a little bit defensively.
“There’s not - There isn’t an original Five.” Five confesses, looking at his shoes, “I was supposed to be swapped for a human baby so the Handler could, uh, have one for her collection or something. But something went wrong, and I was left behind, and they thought we were twins or something. So when Reginald followed the trail of the babies he found… both of us.”
The family considers the fact that Five had looked at Luther.
“Holy shit they wanted to take Luther?” Klaus demands, flabbergasted. Luther looks a tiny bit offended at the incredulity actually.
“They can have him.” Diego mutters, only to get swatted by Allison for the comment. 
and that’s how it goes. Instead of the Commission, you have the Handler and her army of obedient creatures, all ones that she’s managed to steal the Names of and force to do her bidding. 
(There’s only way way to escape something like that. Manage to change enough that you can shed your old name, your old life, like a skin. Become someone new, with a new name. It’s incredibly hard to do.)
(There’s a woman at the counter of a donut shop who has worked there for years. She loves birdwatching and she is breathtakingly kind. She thinks of herself as unextraordinary, but she manages to inspire a man who goes by Hazel to change. To change to a point where, when the Handler comes and threatens what he loves, he sheds his skin and becomes someone new for her. She saved him in every way, she freed him, and against all the odds she loves him. That’s something worth changing for.)
You have a traumatized Five who has been trapped in a castle alone except for his insane captor for what is probably closer to fifty years than twenty since time is such a fun and twisty concept. The Handler is frightfully good at twisting you up inside and Five has to actively try and untwist his own thoughts as well as try and save the world
I feel like the Hargreeves take Five’s non-humanness surprisingly in stride because honestly this shit might as well happen their lives are already so goddamn weird. Allison bends reality. Ben had tentacle monsters in his stomach. Klaus can see dead people. Yeah, this really isn’t the weirdest thing they’ve seen.
Not sure how it goes in the end because in this universe the Handler is definitely the Big Bad and something way more concrete to rally behind than the nebulous idea of a possible apocalypse so not sure if Vanya ends up treading the same path??
look this was just a weird brain wiggle that has a lot of weird things and i am not an expert in folklore and mythology thank you very much
(though admittedly, neither is Five. Now he knows some of what the Handler can do, he knows a little more about his own abilities - it’s not just jumps anymore. His arsenal is about to get a bit expanded)
Five thought he was human his entire life. He went by weird rules, he knew he was different, but the idea that he wasn’t even human probably didn’t really cross his mind.
Everything is different now. 
Everything.
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nannyfeline · 4 years
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Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Essential (to me) Episodes (+Garak)
I’m starting a rewatch of Deep Space Nine, but I’ve already seen it all the way through three times, so this time I’m focusing on just the “essential” episodes (plus the Garak-heavy ones).
This is a consolidated list of the episodes I’m watching so I don’t have to keep cross-referencing six other lists whenever I go to choose the next episode to watch. I’m putting this here for me to use, feel free to use it as a guide if you like or ignore it completely. 
Season 1
Episodes 1 and 2 – Emissary: The first episode.
Episode 3 – Past Prologue: Bajoran terrorists are a thing. Garak is introduced. He makes a pass at Bashir.
Episode 13 – Battle Lines: Space pope goes to space.
Episode 19 – Duet: Cardassians and Bajorans (but not Garak).
Episode 20 – In the Hands of Prophets: Nurse Ratched is Vedek Winn and she bad.
Season 2
Episodes 1, 2, and 3: The show becomes reasonably good. There’s an attempted coup on Bajor, and the station is “abandoned.” 
Episode 5 – Cardassians: Sets up some Cardassian background and has lots of Garak. Also Bashir.
Episode 7 – Rules of Acquisition: I mean, I guess. The Dominion gets mentioned, so sure, whatever.
Episode 14 – Whispers: O’Brien thinks everyone has been replaced by pod people.
Episode 18 – Profit and Loss: Quark, Cardassians, and Garak.
Episodes 20 and 21 – The Maquis: Yeah, sure. It sets them up. They’re important in other series.
Episode 22 – The Wire: GARAK! AND BASHIR!
Episode 26 – The Jem’Hadar: They’re important.
Season 3
Episodes 1 and 2 – The Search: Dominion stuff. Eddington is introduced.
Episode 3 – The House of Quark: Quark and a Klingon get married.
Episode 5 – Second Skin: Cardassians gaslight Kira.
Episode 7 – Civil Defense: Those old Cardassian safety measures on Terok Nor sure are tricky.
Episode 9 – Defiant: Riker and the Maquis. Or is it???
Episodes 11 and 12 – Past Tense: Sisko, Dax, and Bashir are transported back in time to approximately right now (2024, actually), and things are basically fucked but honestly not that different than real life in 2020. (In 1995, it seemed like we would never get to this point. 25 years later, and boy were we wrong. This one is important for understanding some memes, but it honestly may be depressing and triggering here in the summer of 2020.)
Episode 15 – Destiny: Sisko being the Emissary and also talking to Cardassians.
Episode 16 – Prophet Motive: This may be my imagination, but it looks like there could be foreshadowing for “Doctor Bashir, I Presume.” I don’t know, I haven’t rewatched it, yet. I honestly doubt they were thinking that far ahead. I’ll update after I’ve seen it.
Episode 18 – Distant Voices: Bashir is under telepathic attack. Reddit says it’s a good Garak ep.
Episodes 20 and 21 – Improbable Cause and The Die is Cast: Snap, Garak is doing some shady shit. It’s a tough watch if you want to keep Garak in the good guy column. Cardassians attack the Dominion.
Episode 22 – Explorers: Could be more “Doctor Bashir, I Presume” foreshadowing, but probably not. I’ll see.
Episode 26 – The Adversary: Founder infiltrates the Defiant.
Season 4
Episodes 1 and 2 – The Way of the Warrior: Klingons go to war and Worf joins the cast.
Episode 4 – Hippocratic Oath: Bashir’s such a grown up now! Love it! Making big boy choices wrt the Jem’Hadar.
Episode 5 – Indiscretion: Okay, sure, I mean, if you’ve never seen the show, I guess this one is important. It introduces Ziyal. She’s a terrible character, but whatever.
Episode 7 – Starship Down: Fighting the Dominion.
Episode 8 – Little Green Men: THIS IS THE BEST EPISODE! Quark, Rom, and Nog are transported back to 1947 Roswell, New Mexico, and this is the episode that makes me also sort of ship Quark/Odo.
Episode 10 – Our Man Bashir: Bashir and Garak are playing a 1960s James Bond holonovel and have to save the crew when a transporter accident causes their patterns to become integrated with the program. It’s dumb and fun.
Episodes 11 and 12 – Homefront and Paradise Lost: Starfleet violating civil rights a bit to root out Changelings.
Episode 14 – Return to Grace: Cardassians gonna Cardass, I guess.
Episode 22 – For the Cause: Garak and Ziyal become friends.
Episode 23 – To the Death: Sisko and the Dominion work together for a common goal. And we get WEYOUN!
Episode 25 – Body Parts: Quark thinks he’s going to die, so he starts selling off his body parts. Reddit says it’s a good Garak ep, though.
Episode 26 – Broken Link: Odo needs the Founders, uh-oh.
Season 5
Episode 1 – Apocalypse Rising: Whoops, there’s a Klingon Changeling, now.
Episode 6 – Trials and Tribble-ations: Set during TOS “The Trouble with Tribbles.”
Episode 8 – Things Past: Several of the kids, including Garak, are astral projecting to the Cardassian occupation.
Episode 9 – The Ascent: I don’t know, Odo and Quark are hanging out, I guess?
Episode 13 – For the Uniform: Eddington is back.
Episodes 14 and 15 – In Purgatory’s Shadow and By Inferno’s Light: The Dominion’s a’comin’.
Episode 16 – Doctor Bashir, I Presume: Julian’s secret’s out. (My favorite Bashir/O’Brien interaction is in this episode.)
Episode 24 – Empok Nor: O’Brien, Nog, and Garak are scavenging on Empok Nor, sister station of Terok Nor. Spoopy.
Episode 25 – In the Cards: A dumb Jake/Nog fetch quest episode, but Kai Winn meets Weyoun, so… 🤷‍♂️
Episode 26 – Call to Arms: Okay, there’s definitely a war on now.
Season 6
Episode 1 – A Time to Stand: They a’fightin’.
Episode 2 – Rocks and Shoals: Hey, look, the kids are stranded with some Jem’Hadar.
Episode 4 – Behind the Lines: Occupied DS9.
Episodes 5 and 6: Favor the Bold and Sacrifice of Angels: Retaking DS9.
Episode 11 – Waltz: Now Sisko and Dukat are stranded.
Episode 18 – Inquisition: Bashir is accused of being a spy, because why not. Section 31 is introduced.
Episode 19 – In the Pale Moonlight: Lol Sisko is a fascist. Garak helps.
Episode 26 – Tears of the Prophets: The Federation goes on offense.
Season 7
Episode 1 – Image in the Sand: Things just keep going, you know?
Episode 2 – Shadows and Symbols: I’m going to give this one a miss, personally, but it introduces Ezri.
Episode 3 – Afterimage: Poor Garak.
Episode 6 – Treachery, Faith, and the Great River: Weyouns Weyouning.
Episode 8 – The Siege of AR-558: Fightin’.
Episode 9 – Covenant: Dukat is bonkers.
Episode 16 – Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges: Bashir and Section 31.
Episodes 17 through 19: Probably should watch these. Beginning of the end.
Episodes 20 through 24: Getting there.
Episodes 25 and 26 – What You Leave Behind: The finale.
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artificialqueens · 4 years
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Hot as Hell and No A/C, Chapter 3 (Branjie)- Blackhighheels
(Read at AO3)
Three
Jose knows it might not be the best idea to come to this run down bar, but he is bored and he needs a drink. Since he left Los Angeles he hasn’t been to any clubs or bars and this shack is the only thing nearby in the middle of motherfucking nowhere.
The offer is somewhat limited and so he orders a whiskey, since that seems to be the only thing they have beside shots and beer. He remains sitting at the bar and the woman behind it, Lindsey, is a hoot and he likes talking to her. From what she’s telling him she used to be the queen bee around here, about forty years ago, until she got pregnant too young and out of wedlock and found herself working in this bar to keep a roof over her head and care for her son.
He’s so engrossed in Lindsey’s stories that it takes him a while to realise that a couple of guys by the pool table are talking about him. The words ”Faggot”, ”Gay” and ”cocksucker” are a dead give away and he doesn’t think they’d say that about anyone but him around here.
”Hey, assholes! Got a problem with my gay ass?” He yells at them. It might be the alcohol or simply his frustration about the town and what it does to people, but he isn’t willing to just take it and keep him mouth shut. And he’s not afraid of them. He’s had his share of fights in his life, both because of the area he grew up in and also because of him being so obviously gay.
The four men, or boys, come closer and he can already smell the cloud of beer that surrounds them.
”Did you faggot just call us assholes?”
”If you’re the assholes who just talked smack about me, then yeah, I did.” He turns around in his bar stool and is glad that it gives him a bit of a height advantage.
”You better watch your mouth you filthy cocksucker.”
”Mmmh…. Sucking dick’s only filthy when it’s done right. You ever tried it?”
Jose expects a punch or kick, maybe something thrown his way. He doesn’t expect one of the guys spitting right into his face.
”Guys like you are dirt and god will take care of you,” the smallest one says. He seems to be believer amongst them.
Jose doesn’t want to talk anymore though. They just spit at him. He’s done talking. Before the god-fearing idiot has even finished speaking, Jose smacks the fucker who spit at him right across the face with the back of his hand.
”Imma end you, you motherfuckers. No one spits at me, bitch! You got hands, show me! Show me!” he yells, as blood drips from the drunken teenager’s nose.
”Hey!” Lindsey grabs him from behind. ”No fights in my bar. House rule. If you really wanna beat each other up, take it outside. But I’d advise all of y’all to just leave it. You four shouldn’t even be in here or drinking, and you,” she turns to Jose ”better not make more enemies than necessary while ya here. This is a small town.” Jose looks at the four teenagers in front of him, then throws a couple of dollars on the bar and leaves. So much for grabbing a drink and enjoying a night out.
***
Brock walks out of the stable when he hears a voice he would recognise everywhere. He also knows the car parked in their driveway.
”Fuck,” he curses quietly and hurries towards the house, wiping his hands on an old rag as panic settles in his stomach. This can’t be happening! Also, he is painfully aware that his hair is a mess, he is sweaty, dirty and his clothes are stained. Usually when he sees Jose, he at least gets a chance to shower beforehand.
For the last two weeks Jose has driven Rachel and him home after each dance practise. Sometimes they stop for ice cream or food on the way back. Brock is aware that Jose only makes little bets with Rachel, bets he always loses, and then has to invite them to whatever it is he promised her. Brock wouldn’t be able to buy ice-cream and take-out three or four times a week for three people.
The time he spends with Jose and Rachel has become the highlight of his life. He doesn’t mind walking half an hour to a dance studio and then watch for nearly two hours in the overheated studio as his niece prances around the room with other girls. The short drive back with Jose makes it all worth while.
He is the funniest and kindest guy Brock’s ever met. It feels a bit like having a friend, a real friend for once, and Jose is probably the only person he can really be himself with. He can giggle when he feels like it, talk with his hands and even admit that he likes colourful sprinkles on top of his ice-cream.
However, none of it explains why Jose is here now, parked in front of his parents’ house. It’s already too late, Brock realises when he makes his way around the front-porch and find both his mother and father standing on the porch talking to Jose.
”Aw, that’s too bad you can’t tell me. Thought I’d save them the long walk, now that I’m in town anyway.”
”Sorry, we can’t help ya,” his father says in a brusk tone.
”Ok, never mind. Thanks anyway,” Jose turns around to leave. That’s when he spots Brock. Immediately Jose’s face lights up. He is looking really good today, wearing a white wife-beater, a short black and red flannel shirt and tiny black  shorts. ”Hey Brock!”
”Hello,” Brock replies as neutral as possible and it takes a lot not to return the smile. He is very aware that his parents are watching their interaction with stony expressions. ”What are you doing here?”
”Thought I’d ask you and Rachel if I should drive you to dance practice today. I have to take care of some shit here in town and could take you back with me. Don’t think ya got your car fixed yet, huh?” Jose still smiles and casually leans against his Porsche. He looks like someone straight out of an ad or a tv show. Already Brock’s stomach tightens because he knows what he has to do.
”I’m sorry Sir, but that’s not necessary. Rachel and I can manage on our own. Thank you for the kind offer though,” he declines and watches the smile melt off Jose’s face when the icy tone of Brock’s voice registers with him.
”Brock! You know him?” His mother asks. She sounds surprised. What did she think? That some stranger would just show up and offer driving him and Rachel?
”This is Jose. He is Rachel’s dance teacher for the next couple of weeks. Jason hurt himself.” He informs both of his parents.
”You done with the hay?” His father stops any further explanation.
”No, not yet. I just heard voices and thought I’d check on ya.”
”I don’t need ya checking, that’s what we got guns for. I need ya working!” His father barks.
”I better get going,” Jose says quietly and his eyes appear to be so large and defeated that Brock nearly drowns in them.
”Thank you again for the offer but we can manage,” he says and softens his tone. He doesn’t want to decline. If he had a choice, he’d gladly drive around in Jose’s car all day and talk to him about everything and nothing. But it’s not an option he has.
He can’t move, he can’t do anything when he watches Jose get into the car and then drive off, leaving dust and a hint of cologne in the air.
”Don’t ya have work to do?!” his father asks him from the porch and snaps him out of his daze. Quickly he hurries back to the stable to work, to hide and to hopefully forget about the scene he was just a part of. He swallows a couple of times to keep the tears inside that his stupid overly emotional heart wants him to cry for how he just treated Jose.
***
”Care to tell us what that guy wanted today?” Brock’s father asks as soon as he sits down at the table for lunch.
”I told you, he’s Rachel’s dance teacher and I know nothing more than you do. He wanted to drive us to her dance class.”
”How’d he know your car’s broken?”
”We were late a couple of times,” Brock sighs and takes a piece of bread, rips a piece off and stuffs it in his mouth so the words he really wants to speak won’t burst out.
”I don’t like ya hanging with that folk! It’s bad enough that Ada allows Rachel to take dance lessons at that place. You being around these faggots a couple o’times a week… ya know what the people in town gonna say if they see this gay guy here? Ya know what the minister’s gonna say? You stay away from them, ya hear me!” His father is basically yelling at this point.
”I take Rachel to dance class because no one else has the time to do so, not because I wanna hang out there. I don’t know this guy any better than I know Jason, so what’s the big deal? He is a good teacher and Rachel likes him.”
”Stop eating before we said grace!” His father slaps the bread out of his hand, which drops to the floor. ”And Rachel shouldn’t be anywhere around these faggots, this music or these whore dance moves! It’s not right! Their lifestyle and everything they do’s offensive to the lord and every god fearing Christian. They don’t belong here and I want none of my family have anything to do with them. If you wanna hang out with these sinners you get your ass out of my house and better never come back.” Now his father is really yelling.
”How else is Rachel supposed to get there? By the time the lessons are done it’s dark out. It’s too far for her to go on her own. It’s not safe!”
”If I had a say in it she wouldn’t go there at all! But ya sister is letting her kids do whatever! If she lets them run with the wrong crowd, they should know what’s waiting for them!”
It’s nothing Brock hasn’t heard before. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen or felt before. He knows if he speaks another word now the fight will most likely become physical. Brock has never raised a hand against his father, but for a while now he’s taken to defending himself and his mother when the beer gets to his father’s head again.
He hates how he judges Jose without even knowing him. He even hates him for judging Jason. For a split second he wants to scream at him that he’s a sinner himself, gay like them and that even all the beatings he got as a child and teenager didn’t take it out of him.
Then he glances at his mother and her wide, scared eyes let him bite his tongue and lower his head. ”I’ll tell Ada I can’t take Rachel anymore.” He leans over and picks the bread up off the floor and uses the second to wipe his face clean of any emotion. Fury is still burning in his gut, nearly making him sick as he swallows it down and nearly chokes on it.
This is not the time though, not the time to risk it all for nothing. Jose will be gone again in about three weeks and their tentative friendship will become only a memory. What does it matter if he stops it all now, goes back to life how it was before Jose got here and starts living his harsh reality again three weeks earlier? His father probably just saved him a lot of pain and heartache. Brock knows that Jose and his friendships means too much already and he’s gotten too used to it.
”Good. Brock, can you say grace?” His mother ends the discussion with a grateful look and Brock knows he’s made the right decision.
***
”Hey, uncle Brock,” Rachel greets him after the mass on Sunday, when they are all still standing in front of the church.
”Hey honey,” he smiles.
”Can you take a look at my bike? The breaks’ not working and mommy can’t fix it,” she asks him and of course Brock follows her to her bike on the other side of the lawn. He doesn’t care that his good pants get dirty as he kneels down beside the small bike. It’s more important that his niece has a functioning bike, now that she has to ride it to dance practise and back. Brock doesn’t like it. He worries about her constantly, but there is nothing he can do.
”It’s just a bit loose, honey, that’s easily fixed,” he assures her.
”Thank you!”
”Do your lights work? I don’t like you riding your bike in the dark after practise, so we have to make sure at least these are working.”
”Can I tell you a secret?” Rachel whispers after checking that they are alone.
”Always.”
”I’m not driving back on my bike. Vanjie takes me until we reach our house and then waits with the lights turned off until he knows I’m safely inside.”
Brock feels a warmth spreading through him that nearly knocks him on his ass. He grasps the bike to keep his balance. He should have known Jose would make sure Rachel is safe. It’s so much like him that Brock feels like weeping. It’s only been three days, but he already misses their talks so much and hearing about how he cares for his niece only makes him miss Jose more. If only he could just talk to him sometimes.
”That’s very nice of Vanjie. He’s a very good guy,” Brock tells her just as quietly as she told him her secret.
”Then why do you hate him?”
”What? What makes you think I hate him?” he asks surprised and slowly gets up.
”Vanjie asked why you not taking me anymore and if you’re sick or something. I told him ‘bout the stuff grandpa said and that you can’t take me ‘cause they’re offensive and sinners and you don’t wanna be around him and can’t be his friend.”
Brock nearly crumbles to the ground for real this time. ”Rachel, how do you know about that talk?”
”I wanted to see you but then I heard the yelling through the open window and ran off. I don’t like grandpa when he’s mean like that.”
He takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his curls. There are so many things wrong with what Rachel just said and what she overheard. But there are also things he can maybe fix.
”Honey, I don’t agree with grandpa. Vanjie is a very good and nice guy and don’t let anyone tell you anything else about him or Jason, ok? ” Rachel nods her head. ”The only reason why I’m not taking you anymore is because grandpa gets very upset about these things and he’s scared that people will say mean things about me in town.”
”Like the things they say about Jason?”
”Yeah, like that. And he doesn’t want that for me or any of us. And I don’t want to make grandpa angry.”
”Uncle Brock? I like Jason and Vanjie.”
”That’s good. Make sure you tell them. They sure need to hear it.” He strokes his hand over Rachel’s strawberry blond hair.
”Will you tell them, too? Vanjie was really sad that you not there anymore. He said, he thought you was his friend.”
”I’ll tell him,” Brock agrees.
”Promise?” Rachel goes in for the kill.
”Promise,” he says and knows he now really doesn’t have choice but to talk to Jose. Rachel will know.
***
He waits until his parents are in bed and then sneaks outside to the orchard behind their house. It’s far enough so he won’t be overheard, dark enough so he won’t be seen and close enough to the cellphone tower so he’ll have reception.
Jose has given him his phone number the first week, but he has never used it and he hasn’t given him his own. It simply hadn’t been necessary. Jose said to use the number if he needed a ride or if Rachel couldn’t come to practise. Brock had no such excuse for giving him his number.
He takes a couple of deep breaths and then finally brings his thumb down on the dial button.
”Hello?” Jose picks up after only a couple of rings.
”Hey, uhm, it’s me, Brock,” he stutters and feels stupid already.
”What’d ya want, Sir?” Jose’s tone is snide and Brock knows he deserves it.
”Rachel told me she talked to you and I think I need to clear some things up.”
”You made it more than crystal yourself what you really think about me. Ya don’t need to drag Rachel into this.”
”I’m not! I just think, like… it’s not what it seems.”
”So you not avoiding me like the plague ‘cause your father’s a bigot asshole who thinks just talking to me will sully your reputation?” Jose is yelling at him through the phone, then he suddenly stops. When he continues his voice carries the hurt he must be feeling. ”God, I hate this motherfucking town and all of y’all religious lying assholes.”
”I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. You’re so nice to Rachel and to me and helped us out so much and just…I’m sorry.”
”If you’re really sorry you’d have come here and told me this shit in person like a man. But I guess you just as much of a weaselly liar as the rest of these fucked up wanna be cowboys in this town. Grow up, start thinking for ya’self and learn how to make an apology real.”  Jose hangs up on him and Brock stares disbelievingly at his phone.
At first he is shocked and sad. He’s just lost the only friend who really knew him. Not only that, but he also thinks badly about him now. How can he think that Brock agrees with his father? He must know that he doesn’t have a choice, right? He thought Jose knows… That’s when Brock gets angry himself. He is so sick of all of these people and their opinions about him and his life and what he is supposed to do and to think. He’s used to it from his family and the town and the parish. But Jose? How dare he!
Before he really knows what he is doing, he has run inside, grabbed his mother’s car keys and is on the way to the dance studio. Jose wants him to talk to him in person? He can have it!
***
Brock bangs on the front-door and his hand is still in the air when the door is ripped open.
”What the fuck are you doing here, bitch?”
”You told me to talk to you in person, didn’t you?” Brock raises his voice as well.
”Aaaah and of course the good little christian boy always does what he is told,” Jose sneers. For a second Brock wants to punch him. Instead he pushes past him into the apartment. Jason or whoever else is around, really doesn’t need to hear this conversation.
Jose lets the door falls shut and crosses his arms over his chest. ” Say what you gotta say, then leave.”
”Why are you acting like this?”
”Acting? Acting bitch! Imma show you who’s acting! You lucky I’m not kicking your ass right now for pretending to be my friend, acting all nice and cute while we eating ice cream and then you suddenly stabbing me in the back, pretending you don’t fucking know me and stop talking to me without any explanation. I don’t need any more backstabbing hoes in my life.”
”Do you have any idea what my father would have done, if he knew we were hanging out after dance practice? If he knew we were so much as talking on the regular? I don’t know who he would have shot first, you or me!”
“I’m not scared of your asshole father. I don’t give a shit about him! But I give a shit about loyalty. And you not who I thought you were! You not fucking loyal! If you’d been at that fucking bar last week, you’d have spat on me too and tried to beat me up, just ‘cause you scared of your father. You pathetic!” Jose is full on screaming at him now.
”So you got a taste of what it’s like to live here for one night? Do you know what it’s like to live here every fucking day of your fucking life? When they beat me up as a kid ‘cause I was too girly, my dad beat me up again when I got home. They threw rocks at me, spat at me and slapped me all the way through school. I couldn’t tell my parents, the teachers didn’t care and I didn’t even understand what the fuck was wrong with me!” Brock starts pacing in the small living room.
”You’re the only person who knows. The only person who knows that I’m…” he can barely get the word over his lips. ”…that I’m gay.” There, he’s said it out loud for the first time in his life. Well, yelled it at Jose. ”And you know what happens when that gets out? When only a rumour will spread? What you experienced at the bar will be my life every fucking day and worse. My parents will kick me out, I’ll lose all of my family and I’ll have nothing, NOTHING left. Maybe that’s what I deserve for being that way, maybe that’s really god’s way of punishment. But I’d rather live a lie every day for the rest of my fucking life than to lose the little I have left.” Tears are dripping from Brock’s chin by the end of his confession. He’s laid it all out now to Jose, a guy he barely knows and just because he’s the first one who has shown him any kindness. Fuck! What if… what if he tells people? What if he is so angry he will take revenge and..
”Hey, it’s ok. I understand,” Jose is suddenly standing in front of him and places his hands on his upper arms. That’s when Brock realises he’s shaking. ”It’s ok.” Jose tries to wipe his tears away with the back of his hands, but they fall faster than he can wipe them off. ”Come here, boo, sit down. You still shaking like a fucking tree,” he says. Brock has to laugh about the mishap.
”Leaf,” he corrects through his tears and hiccups.
”Smart ass. Imma get you some water,” Jose smiles and disappears for a moment, before he comes back with a bottle of water and some tissues. Brock takes the water and drinks it down, before he accepts the tissues and dries his face and his eyes.
He feels stupid now for getting so upset, for crying, for yelling all of his secrets at Jose and for coming here in the first place. ”I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…” he starts but Jose stops him.
”You know what, boo? You look like you need a hug. That ok?” Jose asks him with a tender and worried look.
”I’m not good at hugging,” Brock shrugs self-deprecatingly and looks down.
”You lucky, ‘cause I’m the best at giving hugs.” A moment later Jose slowly pulls him in his arms and hugs him tightly. It’s a strange feeling for Brock and he can’t remember when he has ever hugged anyone other than his sister or his nieces and nephews. Then however, he slowly relaxes against Jose’s warm body and lets the last couple of tears fall.
So this is what it feels like, he thinks. It’s nice and soothing, comfortable and exciting. He feels safe and cared for. Jose starts running his hands up and down his back and if Brock could, he would start purring like his favorite kitten. He closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling.
After a while, he turns his head, his nose bumps against Jose’s neck and the scent of cologne gets stronger. Jose’s hand slides up his neck and into his hair. When Brock looks up and their eyes meet, it only takes a split second and then Jose brushes his lips against his. It’s not even a peck, more like a butterfly like touch, but Brock wants more. He stops thinking as he leans up and captures Jose’s mouth in a soft kiss.
When he pulls back his brain suddenly starts working again and he jumps back. ”Oh my god!” he covers his tingling lips with his hand and stares at Jose.
”Please tell me that’s not been your first kiss,” Jose begs, equally wide eyed.
”No! But.. Like… we can’t do this. I can’t..not… here… I’m…”
”It’s ok, Brock. It don’t gotta mean nothing. You can go back to ignoring me now. I get it, I promise. No hard feelings.” The hurt in Jose’s voice tells Brock something else though.
”I don’t wanna ignore you.” He tells him honestly. ”But I can’t… do this here. It’s too risky.”
”Alright. Friends then?” Jose smiles.
”Friends,” Brock nods. ”Just… no one can know.”
”‘Cause I’m too fucking gay for this town, I know, Miss Thing. Then you better get your secretly gay ass outta here, before anyone sees you.” The words are harsh, but the smirk on Jose’s face and the hug he gives him, let Brock know he really means it.
”We could get ice cream again some time?” Brock suggests when he is already halfway out the door.
”Text me tomorrow if you still feeling that typa way and we can do that.” They smile at each other for a moment and if Brock wasn’t such a coward he’d kiss him again. Instead he quickly leaves and vows to himself that he will text Jose in the morning and make sure he won’t lose the only friend who now really knows all of his dirty secrets and still likes him. Despite it all. Maybe because of it.
TBC
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wrestlingisfake · 4 years
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Bound for Glory preview
Eric Young vs. Rich Swann - Young is defending the Impact Wrestling world championship.  This is only Swann’s second match since suffering a legit knee injury in January.  He returned to the ring for  a five-way title match at Slammiversary on July 18, where he eliminated Young.  Eric “reinjured” Swann’s leg to cost him that match; when Swann was forced to “retire” on August 4, Young assaulted him again.  Since then Young has gone on to win the world title, while Swann has been doing a whole “come out of retirement for revenge” storyline.
It’s funny to think about how these guys are headlining this show, considering that most fans would probably remember them best for being lost in the shuffle at WWE.  But this is Impact’s level, and it has been for years.  Just because these guys would be working a dark match on Smackdown doesn’t mean they can’t have a compelling main event here in a much smaller pond.
The basic “Rocky movie” approach to booking this feud would be to have Swann overcome adversity to conquer his most dangerous rival and finally win the big one.  But Impact has a long history of trying to outthink that logic, and I have a long memory of them swerving away from big coronation moments.  It was only a few months ago, in fact, that they were building up Ace Austin for an inevitable run on top, and then they just...didn’t do that.  So Swann might win, or they might tell a story that he has a lot of ring rust to shake off before he beat Young.  Nevertheless, my gut still says Swann wins the title here.
Alex Shelley & Chris Sabin vs. Doc Gallows & Karl Anderson vs. Ethan Page & Josh Alexander vs. Ace Austin & Madman Fulton - This is a four-way match for the Impact tag team title, currently held by the Motor City Machine Guns (Shelly and Sabin).  Per standard four-way rules, the only way to win is by pinfall or submission, and the first man to score a fall on any opponent wins the match and the title for his team.
The North (Page and Alexander) held the title for just over a full year as various other teams broke up or drifted away from Impact, so they got to be able to say they cleaned out the division.  Then Sabin and Shelley came in as the wily veterans to get a big push (which is sort of ironic when you consider their history with this company).  Austin and Fulton came together earlier this year as a “rising top heel and his enforcer” act, but they ended up as a tag team when they began feuding with the Good Brothers (Gallows and Anderson).  All along, there’s been a sense that the Machine Guns are just keeping the titles warm until they put over the Good Brothers.
I could see any of these teams getting the title, but it’s pretty clear Gallows and Anderson are top attractions in this company, so one way or another the title picture is going to revolve around them.  One interesting wrinkle is that the Good Brothers plan to work for both Impact and New Japan, and New Japan has a tag team tournament coming up, leading into their biggest show of the year.  If I’m Don Callis, I want to send Gallows and Anderson to Japan for a couple of months to soak up that exposure, and I’d want them do it while wearing Impact title belts.  I’m probably getting ahead of myself with that speculation, but since I’ve got no other clear way to pick a winner, I’ll let that be why I’m going with Doc and Karl.
Deonna Purrazzo vs. Kylie Rae - Purrazzo is defending the Impact women’s title.  Kylie earned this title shot by winning a battle royale on July 18, the same night Purrazzo won the championship.  Since then Kylie has won the Warrior Wrestling women’s title, but that belt isn’t at stake here.
It was just about a year ago that Kylie debuted here, coming off a surprisingly abrupt exit from AEW.  It’s always felt like Impact wanted to do a slow build to her as the face of the women’s division.  And yet, Impact has also given Purrazzo a strong push since her debut in May.  Each of them would be my pick to win against any other woman in the company right now.  But against one another, it’s real tough to choose.  Feels like almost every match on this card is a pick-’em, which is a good thing.
I’m gonna go with Kylie to win just because she makes me happy.
EC3 vs. Moose - Moose has spent most of the year as the self-proclaimed “TNA world champion,” but EC3 stole his belt and I’m not sure what happened to it and I’m not sure either guy still cares about it at this point.  EC3 gained his widest exposure to fans in his NXT/WWE run, but Impact viewers know he really made his name in this promotion, back when it was called TNA.  “EC3” literally stands for “Ethan Carter III,” from when his gimmick was that he was the (kayfabe) nephew of longtime TNA owner Dixie Carter.
The story is that after EC3 was laid off from WWE, he decided he had to exorcise his old failures, which I guess are symbolized by Moose carrying around the belt he once held.  So EC3 started interfering in Moose matches and stalking him and playing cryptic videos for him and other weird stuff.  This has been going on since July but EC3 has yet to wrestle for Impact in all that time.  Aside from a couple of indie shows, and some ROH stuff that hasn’t aired yet, this will be his first match in 2020.
Back in July I assumed that EC3 would sign with Impact.  Then when I heard he was doing stuff with ROH, I figured it was a side project before he fully committed to Impact.  But after three months with no Impact matches, I’m starting to wonder if his Impact deal is a one-and-done.  Actually, the fact I’m wondering that helps the match, since if I was sure he was sticking around, it’d be super obvious that he has to beat Moose.  As it is, I’m still leaning toward EC3 winning, but that little doubt in my head will keep it interesting.
Eddie Edwards vs. Ken Shamrock - I lost the plot on this one, but as I recall Edwards had a vicious feud with Sami Callihan in 2018, and then Shamrock had a vicious feud with Callihan earlier this year, and now Shamrock and Callihan both hate Edwards for some reason.  Incidentally Shamrock is being inducted into Impact’s hall of fame this weekend, so it’s kind of weird that they decided now is the time to turn him heel.
I think the easiest way to sum both of these guys up is that neither of them knows when to quit.  They both look grizzled and stopped-giving-a-fuck, which makes them scary in the way that convicts in movies seem scary.  Now that I think about it, I’m surprised it took so long for this match to happen.
The x-factor here is Callihan, who will undoubtedly be interfering on behalf of Shamrock.  I don’t know who the hell Eddie can get to counteract that; usually when he needs backup it ends up being his wife Alisha, which works better than you might expect but still not all that well.  I guess if Davey Richards was going to return, this would be a cool way to set it up.  But failing that, I don’t think Eddie can win this match.
Rohit Raju vs. Chris Bey vs. TJP vs. Jordynne Grace vs. Trey Miguel vs. Willie Mack - Raju’s “X division” title is on the line.  This is being billed as a “six-way scramble match.”  I tend to think that’s just a cute name for a standard six-way match, where whoever scores the first fall on any opponent wins the match and the title.  Of course, in WWE a “scramble match” was a specific stipulation where whoever scores the last fall in a specified time period is the winner.  But I think if Impact was trying to bring those rules back, they’d have made a bigger deal about it, and I would have heard something about it by now.
The backstory here is that Bey was getting a big push and beat Mack for the title, and Raju started lobbying to be his henchman.  This led to Bey vs. Raju vs. TJP, with the idea that Raju would help Bey against TJP, but Raju went into business for himself and won the title.  So now everybody is gunning for Raju, including Trey for some reason I forget, and I think Grace just got thrown in there to make it more interesting.  Basically, Raju was a prelim guy before any of this happened, and he’d be the underdog against any of these opponents, so you’re supposed to think he’s doomed in a match against all of them.
I’m a tad surprised Grace is involved, because it wasn’t all that long ago that it was Tessa Blanchard as the woman chasing the X title, and then the world title, and that didn’t work out so well.  Then again, Tessa’s gender was hardly the reason that run fell apart, so maybe Impact is determined to do it again until they get it right.  Thing is, if you want to seriously present a woman winning a men’s championship, you want the champion that puts her over to be stronger than Rohit Raju.  So if they’re gonna do it, I’d say they should do it later, with Grace challenging one of the other guys for the title one-on-one.
Anyone could win this match, but it’s a real old trick to have the most hated heel be the biggest underdog, and then he steals a win after his opponents destroy each other.  So I’m going with Rohit to retain.
20-person “Call Your Shot” gauntlet match - This is a timed interval gauntlet match, similar to WWE’s Royal Rumble.  Two participants start the match, and each additional participant enters at regular intervals.  (I don’t think they’ve said how long the intervals are, but I’m guessing 90 seconds or two minutes or something.)  For most of the match, a competitor can only be eliminated by leaving the ring over the top rope and placing both feet on the floor; however, once all but two wrestlers are eliminated, the rules change so they can only lose by pinfall or submission.  The last person left in the match is the winner and earns the right to a title match against the champion of their choice.
So far Impact has confirmed eleven participants, seven men and four women:
Acey Romero, of the XXXL tag team
Alisha Edwards, whose last singles victory in this company was in 2018 against AEW’s Rebel/Reba
Brian Myers, formerly known as Curt Hawkins in WWE
Havok, aka Jessicka Havok in the indies
Heath, formerly Heath Slater in WWE, with the gimmick that he hasn’t yet secured a contract to work for Impact
Hernandez, once a rising star in TNA, now some sleazy guy backstage with a giant wad of cash
Larry D, Romero’s partner in XXXL
Rhino, the former ECW/WWE star who’s been trying to help Heath get signed
Taya Valkyrie, probably best known from AAA and Lucha Underground
Tenille Dashwood, formerly Emma in NXT and WWE
Tommy Dreamer, the ECW legend, who has been feuding with Myers
The order of entry is supposed to be random, but the results of an October 20 match slotted Hernandez as the last entrant and Rhino as the first.  The added stipulation for Rhino and Heath is that their jobs are on the line: If either of them wins, Rhino stays and Heath is signed, but if neither of them win, Rhino is fired and Heath can’t keep coming around asking for work.
It feels like this match has to end with Rhino or Heath winning, to pay off that storyline.  In fact, I could easily see it being a deal where one appears to be eliminated, and hides off-camera until the other is thrown out, and then Josh Matthews can play Michael Cole being all shocked that there’s still hope.  It feels so obvious that I’ve seen speculation that Heath needs to turn on Rhino right after one of them wins, to keep it interesting.  But I think we’re all overlooking the alternative, where they’re both kicked out of the company but nevertheless keep appearing in comedy skits for weeks until they get some other chance to earn contracts.  Personally, I’d just keep it simple and have Heath win leading to Heath and Rhino challenging for the tag title.
Dez & Wentz vs. Cody Deaner & Cousin Jake - This is being advertised for the pre-show.  Dez (Desmond Xavier) and Wentz (Zachary Wentz) are, along with Trey Miguel, the stoner team of the Rascalz.  Cody Deaner has been Impact’s resident redneck good-ol’ boy on and off for years.  Jake is better known on the indie scene as Jake Something, the current Black Label Pro champion.  Between the two teams, I think Impact is more committed to pushing the Rascalz, but this is another one where it could really go either way.  This whole show has been really hard to predict.  Let’s hope it still seems unpredictable after it’s over.
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abbeysobelman · 4 years
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Mon premier mois en France!
“She said, ‘The title of the film is in English, so I’m not going to say it because Abbey will make fun of me.’“ - A friend translating what my French teacher said to the class.
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This weekend marks the end of my first month in France! It’s crazy, if I’m honest, to think that an entire month has already passed by. I feel like I got here last week, but I also feel like I’ve been here forever. The thought of having to leave already makes me sad. 
It’s been a good month, but busy. I’m slowly getting a hang of the school system. It’s stressful! They don’t have quizzes, and there’s hardly any homework, so all of our grades depend on tests that we seem to have almost once a week in every class. My teachers are still very understanding, which I’m happy about. I’m worried the grace period they’ve given me is going to end soon and then I’ll really be screwed. We’ll see. Other than that, everything else has been going really well! I still have friends (thank god) and they’ve already made plans to take me to Mcdonalds (or McDo, as they call it) once it reopens, and to show me their favorite places in Paris once we’re allowed. We do the best we can to tell stories with our limited understanding of each other’s language, but I’m slowly learning. My friends have started to teach me new words and grammar rules that I’ve been picking up each day. I’ve also just slowly been learning general concepts that I pick up from their speech. Like the way that they have three different ways to say Ok that aren’t interchangeable. Or the way that they say “Oh la la” in the same way we say “Omg”. 
One of the biggest lessons I think I’m going to take away from my time here is that things probably are not as big a deal as you think. I tend to have a lot of anxiety, I overthink and get anxious about things I have yet to do. But while I’ve been here, I’ve learned that you really can’t get too hung up on stuff, or you’re going to freak yourself out. For example, last friday night when I came home from school, my host mom told me “Tomorrow, you can go to the neighbor’s house and make cakes with their daughter, they invited you over”. Obviously this was entirely terrifying as I had only met these people once and they spoke pretty much no english at all, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t overthink and worry about what would happen. I told myself “Well, I guess I’m going to the neighbors house tomorrow to make cake”, and that was that. If you let anxiety control your life, you’re never going to accomplish anything. If had let my anxiety make choices for me, I never would have stepped foot in my school. i never would have approached people or tried to talk to them. I never would have gone to the neighbors house and befriended their daughter. I never would’ve taken a bus and walked 4 kilometers up a hill from the neighboring town. You just have to roll with the punches and hope for a good outcome.
Speaking of the neighbors, it actually went really well! They are good friends with my host parents, and have a son my age and a daughter who’s 14. The girl, ChÏme, and I got on really well. We talked for a few hours in her bedroom, me in broken French and her in broken English with the help of Google Translate if we needed it. We also made chocolate cake (gateau au chocolat), it was really good. We have more plans to hang out in the future, since our houses are less than a minutes walk from each other. Yay to making friends!
I’ve tried to keep of list of weird things I’ve picked up on since I’ve been here (I tend to forget), so here it goes: 
No one carries water bottles, and there are no public water fountains anywhere, including schools and shopping malls. No one really drinks water (in fact, I think they think I’m weird for how much I drink). At school, if you need a drink, you cup your hands under the bathroom sink and hope it doesn’t get on your shirt.
Speaking of school, there’s no toilet seats in the school bathrooms.
There doesn’t really seem to be a rule about what teachers can and can’t say or show to the class. My english teacher (a native french guy who spent a year studying in Northern Ireland. He has a very strong Irish accent) loves to say “What the hell” when someone is doing something weird. And he’s dropped the f bomb a few times. All in good humor, of course. In my speciality English class (I’ll explain that in a minute) we’re studying The Handmaid’s Tale - both the book and the series. So far we’ve watched the first two episodes, containing nudity, swearing, and just about anything that parents in America would complain about if teachers showed this to their students. It’s honestly really nice to be able to do and say things without having to make sure it’s “appropriate”, because in all honestly this is what the real world is like and it’s dumb to have to censor something just because someone says a “bad word”.
When we enter class, we’re not allowed to sit until the teacher allows us, and when a member of administration enters the room, everyone must stand until we are dismissed by the teacher. If the door to the room is closed, you must knock and wait for permission to enter. The relationships between student and teacher is very professional, and much for regulated than it seems to be in America.
Grades here are nothing to be secretive about, and the whole idea of “FERPA” doesn’t exist at all. Everyone knows and shares everyone’s grades. When teachers hand back our exames, the announce your grade and critique you to the whole class. It’s probably so you can learn from other’s mistakes, but it’s honestly a bit terrifying when you have no idea what the teacher is saying to you.
And lastly, on a completely different topic, it costs almost 2000 euros and many months of training to get your driver's license. Because of this, a lot of people drive without licenses or insurance. A lot of teens also have no intentions of ever getting their license (you have to be 18 to drive), and instead rely on public transport. 
So, back to the “Speciality English class”, because the French school system works a bit differently. Highschool (”école”) is your last three years of schooling, so the equivalent of sophomore, junior, and senior year. I’m in première (literally means “first”, the french system for years works backwards) which is the equivalent of junior year, and seniors would be in terminale. When you reach première, you are required to choose a more specific course of study depending on what you plan to do in the future. Certain classes are required, like French, English, history, and science, but everything else is up to you. You have to choose three specialities (”spécialités”), which include math, science (chemistry or biology), english, philosophy, history, geopolitics, and two languages (from Latin, Greek, Spanish, and German). It might seem confusing, because some of the required classes are also speciality classes. Essentially, everyone has three hours of English language class each week, but if you choose English as a speciality, you have an extra four hours of English literature each week. The same goes for the other classes as well. I have three hours of history each week, but my friends with a history specialite have an extra two hours of history a week. Another odd thing is that classes like math aren’t required. Everyone takes chemistry and biology (and some have it as a speciality), but not everyone is required to take math. It’s honestly a really complex system that even I don’t completely understand yet, so please feel free to ask me more questions about it so I can try to explain it better.
And speaking of English class, we are currently learning about The Troubles of Ireland, including bloody sunday. You can infer that of course, of course, we had to talk about Sunday Bloody Sunday by U2. We spent two full hours analyzing the lyrics, the sound, and the music video of the song to “help us better understand what happened”. I’m sure my father will be very happy to hear about this. We also read a poem (in English, obviously) about Bloody Sunday. Of course, my teacher has the students read it so they can practice their english, but they can only read about four lines at a time. I wanted to join in, and he had me read a long stanza, telling the class “now you’ll hear how it’s actually supposed to sound”. When I finished, pretty much the entire class joked that I had an amazing accent, and I got a lot of thumbs-ups. It was pretty funny. 
The French president also lifted some restrictions, as we’ve been in lockdown (”confinement”) since the start of October. Before, we were allowed within 1km of our house for only an hour, but now we are allows within 20km for three hours. Yesterday, I was finally able to see towns other than where I live and go to school. We ventured to the town where my host mom works, where they have a huge (huge!) shopping mall. It was fun! I got to taste my first real French macarons and my host mom bought me a cute tea mug that has the eiffel tower on it. In two weeks, we plan to spend the weekend in Paris, and stay with one of my host family’s sons. Lots of shopping and sightseeing ahead! I genuinely cried with excitement just thinking about it. And though we’re still under certain restrictions, the president plans to have most things reopened by christmas so people can enjoy the holidays. If that happens, we plan to spend a few days in Italy over the break! But for now, we wait.
That’s really everything I can think of for now, but I’ll try to keep everyone updated more! And I’ll post pictures right after I publish this. Feel free to ask questions about anything! Bonne journee! 
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sempvrdulcis · 4 years
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❝ ⤚⟶ EUROPE, 1458. thanks is given by the LADY OF MILAN, 𝐆𝐈𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐙𝐀, from THE ITALIAN STATES. they are at best DIPLOMATIC, and at their worst MELANCHOLIC. whilst abroad, their ambition is to SECURE A MORE BENEFICIAL  BETROTHAL THAN HER PREVIOUS ONE AND GATHER ALLIES TO MILAN TO ASSIST HER YOUNGER BROTHER INSTEAD OF HIS MOTHER. SHE seems to remind everyone of KATHRYN NEWTON & 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 & 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒. ❞ 
hi, hello ! i’m livvy and very excited to be here. i present to you lady giuliana sforza, the personification of byronism before it even existed. i’m sorry for my dramatic ass, i have a pisces moon. anyways, i’m down to every kind of plot you guys can throw at me, so please reach me at discord ( a mimir#2252 ) or here for the fun stuff to start ! 
𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
what are some potential plotlines you are interested in pursuing?
giuliana seeks a better match for herself than the venetian ambassador ---- a foreign prince, or if she’s feeling bold enough, someone from the east. this is guided by her childish side ---- she wants to show him that’s she’s better without him and venice. yet, is she truly willing to leave milan and the italian states, behind ? giuliana is all about words ---- but when the time comes, will she be prepared ? as cliche as it sounds, i want her to be engaged to someone far away from her homeland, from her culture and religion. on the surface, she’ll accept it with a smile on her face, but in the inside, she’ll not know what to do and i want to explore it. 
another plot that i want to pursue is her relationship with her uncle and step-mother. she loves her baby brother but she hates his mother ---- she sees her a some kind of witch, the only one that can be guilty for her miserable feelings. she’ll try to plot with her uncle to put him ( or even herself, if he doesn’t agree ) as the regent for her brother. yet, i would want them to reconcile ---- we don’t face the duchess regent, but from what i’ve read of her bubble, she doesn’t have anything agaisnt giuliana, and honestly, the only one to be guilty, is her father. but she doesn’t see it like that and blames the poor woman for everything that happened to her. 
Expand on this character’s connections with two other roles.
the venetian ambassador: someone that giuliana once thought she loved, the venetian ambassador was a man of her father’s choice ---- and that made her more than happy. she saw, with the engagement, that her father still cared for her and for her future. and giuliana sunk on this relationship with her everything, writing letters to her future husband, day dreaming about their wedding and sighing when his name was brought in conversations. yet, with galeazzo’s death, the betrothal fell with it, and that was what really hurted. for a while, she hated him. she thought that everything was his fault and that he didn’t wanted to marry her ---- but she with time, she understood that her feelings weren’t reciprocated as she thought they were. and giuliana hated herself for falling into his honey words. 
the milanese ambassador: the one that took the paternal figure on her life after the plague, giuliana wants nothing more to see him guiding milan before her brother is of age to do so. after the death of her siblings, giuliana grew closer to him ---- after all, he didn’t look at her with bitter eyes and never thought that she was guilty by all the his life’s tragedies. the count of pavia is the one that the lady sforza seeks guidance and instruction from, and she hopes that he’ll indulge on her upcoming plans for their mother land. 
𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐒.
giuliana’s life had been a blessing for some years --- a part of the great house of sforza that inherited the duchy of milan though the marriage, she had been just a small piece for ten years. yet, when the plague affected the milanese lands, it also took giuliana’s mother and siblings, leaving only the young girl and her bitter father, the duke galeazzo sforza, that refused to look at her eyes for many years. why she was the only one alive ? maybe the almighty had bigger plans for her life, but she didn't understand them. at such a tender age and a burden too heavy for her shoulders, giuliana thought that milan was hers ---- she wasn’t a greedy girl, but she was the heir. yet, when her father announced his new wedding, she was left speachless. it was the first of her big disappointments, after all. giuliana was the perfect heiress ---- eloquent, well educated, gracious. why she couldn’t be it, then ? 
however, the birth of her brother softened her heart. he was such a cute thing, but the greedy hands of his mother were always on him, and the bitter eyes of her father always on her back. her engagement to the venetian ambassor brought some happiness to her life ---- she thought it was love at first, but nothing at her life was made because of noble feelings. with the end of it, giuliana changed. her smiles are fewer than it used to be, and her personal feelings were long forgotten. everything she does is for the sake of milan and the house of sforza --- a better match, allies, and putting her uncle as the regent. she is blind by the prospect of seeing her step-mother out of her family’s seat, and her actions are guided by it. giuliana thought that she would be more sorrowful with duke galeazzo’s death. by the lack of emotion on her graceful features, rumors started to be spread by her step-mother’s supporters: was the milanese heiress, with her angelic features and sacchire words, that killed the once so healthy duke ? 
once a lively and bright girl, giuliana was known for her kind smiles and soft words, always ready to please her companions. she wished for nothing more than to be acknowledge by her father and his court. she spent nights reading and studying diplomacy and languages ---- she wanted to be useful to milan. it wasn’t her fault that her siblings and the heir perished, but she wanted to compensate their deaths by being better than they would ever be. yet, when the duke married a second time, giuliana forgot about that. she felt jealous for a while ---- no one was looking at her, praising her. she wanted their eyes at her again, but knew that such thing could only happen if her step-mother were out of the way. but the love that she started to feel for her younger brother were too much and such plans were forgotten, but now, with a broken betrothal and without a future prospect, giuliana sees the trip to portugal as the reason why god left her alive: she’ll bring riches to milan that her dead father could never imagine and get rid of the influence of her step-mother of milan and of her brother. 
𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. 
childhood friends ( open to the italian league or nearby countries, 0/3 ) : giuliana didn’t have many friends growing up —- she was rather quiet and anxious —- but these people crawled their way into her heart, and she’s very thankful for it. they probably know her from a time where her siblings and mother were still alive, and know that, deep inside, she’s still the same dreamy and timid child of that time. they helped her recover from the tragedy, mostly by letters.
western pen-palship ( open to western countries, 0/2 ) : duke galeazzo maria sforza was an ambitious and after the death of his heir, he allowed giuliana to make some matters on her hands. she started a pen-palship with these people of the west, and while they doesn’t know themselves face-to-face, lady sforza consider them them highly and is always eager to receive a letter.
eastern pen-palship ( open to eastern countries, 0/2 ) : lady giuliana is someone fascinated with diplomacy, and encouraged by her father, she started to write for some eastern countries, hoping to find someone that is willing to form a bridge with milan through letters.
roasts him / falls in love ( open to males, 0/1 ) : totally based of this POST, with a vibe of enemies to lovers ? giuliana isn’t the best person to be around if you aren’t her friend, and she can say very rude things, especially if this person says something about milan.
suitors ( open to every suitable male lmao ) : she's searching for someone way better than the venetian ambassador in her eyes, and well, your character is also looking for someone to marry OR your character is looking for someone to marry other character and boom. we can discuss details later, but that’s it.
the muse ( open to everyone ) : giuliana is an italian woman in the middle of the renaissance, and while she’s not so artistic, she’s mesmerized by your muse and wants to paint them. or your character is really an artist and sees in giuliana their ultimate muse.
familial figures ( open to everyone, this girl needs love ) : she lost all of her family when she was ten and her father was bitter than she was the one who survived and not his heir, and she have a deficit of family figures ? mother figures, father figures, siblings figures, just give me everything.
potential allies ( open to everyone ) : giuliana is someone very interested in politics and such, and now with her father’s death and poor ruling ( in her eyes ) of her step-mother, she’s looking for good allies for her homeland. that can be through marriage, trade or military agreements. she wants to see the milanese lands out of the ferrara family hands, and she’ll do anything to achieve that.
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Misfit of Demon King Academy 1 | Healin’ Good PreCure 13 - 14 | Lapis Re:Lights 1 | God of High School 1 | Muhyo and Roji’s BSI s2 1
Misfit of Demon King Academy 1
This originally had the ecchi tag on its anime entry on AniList…or, at least, that’s how it was in my memory…but now that I see it doesn’t have that, it’s just another reincarnation isekai-type series. Let’s dig into it!
I…think this guy is meant to be portrayed as “hot” because he has the piercing eyes and he’s tall (against the girls in what will presumedly be his harem), but he kind of looks like your standard Potato-kun in a white outfit…so, uh…*shrugs*
Uh…is that guy meant to be Indian? You can’t get more obvious than the “Indu” family. Update: You see his brother later and Leorg has fairer skin, so maybe not.
LOL, “Flame of Darkness” makes someone nothing but a chuunibyou.
Uh…this is called The Misfit of Demon King Academy, y’know? Anos (Anoth?) is gonna get in, you bet your butts.
The owl is cute.
…guy, that 3 second rule thing was actually funny, but the more you think about the joke, the less funny it gets. Show: 1. Me: Infinity -1
Just from appearances, I wanna guess Misha is an ice or light magic user, or whatever equivalent the show has.
Is this what Assassin’s Pride could have been…?
How did the mother (Anoth’s) think her kid maturing that fast wasn’t weird?
Mushroom gratin? Is that an actual dish?...Yep, seems so. Sounds nice. I like mushrooms.
What’s up with young mothers in anime these days? Then again, the only other point of reference I have is Masamune-kun’s Revenge…
I thought it was the other Indu guy we saw earlier. This guy’s…not that bad-looking, though (LOL, my preferences ring out loud and clear…)…welp, spoke too soon. There he is. Update: Leorg kinda looks like Hakuto Kunai from Demon Lord, Retry!, come to think of it.
If Zepes died several times over the course of this episode…would one more death actually matter? (Not really, to be honest. Zepes is a scumbag.)
Come to think of it, this anime got postponed due to COVID, yeah? Was that why there was a sakuga spot earlier…?
Was that Sasha (Misha’s sister)? I found her name while checking if the anime was postponed.
I like the colour choices in this show, at least.
I don’t think this show has the best sense of comedic timing. Let your jokes breathe, dammit! That’s what comedic beats are for!
In a season with more offerings, I might get rid of this or pause it, but the season’s fairly sparse as it stands (darn virus!) so it stays.
Update: I didn’t notice, but an Anime News Network staff member wrote that Anoth’s surname is familiar…if you read Harry Potter.
Healin’ Good PreCure 13
Gotta start in the middle for this and work our way back. Note I did watch the 1st 2 eps without subs earlier this year when they were on the official PreCure YouTube, so I’m ahead of most people.
(From wandering the wiki and the news) I’ve seen nothing but pink/blue/yellow Cures these days, so I kind miss the more adventurous colours like green and orange…but then again, I never really liked green. It’s the colour of envy and…as petty as it sounds, I think I developed that bias because green is stereotypically the colour of rot, vomit (aside from anime’s rainbow vomit) and stinky things.
I didn’t notice this, but there’s a faint highlight on the Cures’ eyes (red for Grace, purple for Fontaine and blue for Sparkle).
It’s a drone! In PreCure! Yay! (It finally hit me exactly how much of a distant dream it’s been – from watching Suite and episodes of most of the other PreCure ‘til now – watching PreCure legally as a simulcast is! It’s crazy and it only took, what…5 years between Suite and this? 16 if you count from Futari wa to Healin’ Good.)
Is it that drone?
Hah? This is almost like the electricity-themed PreCure I came up with on the fan wiki. It’s not like I could sue Toei for it, though…they own that stuff, I only own what came out of my own imagination.
The subs say “Rate”, but “rate” has a meaning in English. No wonder the initial wiki translations say “Latte”, especially because the queen is “Teatine” to match.
Okay, so Mei is the sis and Yota is the brother. Got it.
Hey! What if there was a PreCure where the villains had devastated another world before? That would really raise the stakes.
“[T]hunders” (sic)? Thunder is the sound, lightning is the flash. Which one is it?
I see. As soon as they identified it as the Element of Lightning, I sort of guessed they could add it to their repertoire later, and I was right.
Its’s nice to see they put a woman in the moving company as well. Proves that girls can do anything they set their minds to, even what are supposedly “men’s jobs”.
I guess from the face I should’ve expected the element to talk, like the Fairy Tones from Suite, but I didn’t really figure that out until I saw it talk,
I feel like Hinata should’ve gone to see how Mei made her juice. That way, the two might be able to make similar-tasting juice…but that’s just an idea.
Healin’ Good PreCure 14
I feel like Byogens were responsible for Nodoka’s sickness, much like they are for Latte.
“Energy Source” seems to refer to a place where energy appears…I know that sounds a bit dumb if you don’t realise genki hakken means something like “appearance of energy (for a person)”, but…yeah, the PreCure series is like this. Unfortunately, that’s what you have to deal with.
I feel like this “teamwork overcomes all hardships” message is important in this time of COVID-19.
Guaiwaru = “condition is bad”, or ill health (guai ga warui).
Is that the element of air? I thought the PreCure would’ve used their element of lightning to fix the steamer, but hey, teamwork works too.
I’m a weeny bit peevy they translate minna to “girls”. It’s correct in context when it’s been translated that way, but minna means “everybody”.
I imagined Hinata saying “Watashi no smartphone ga!” instead of “Atarashii sumaho ga hoshii!”
Lapis Re:Lights 1
Eh…COVID-19 means I gotta sample things I’m not so crazy about.
Why is one of the first lines in this show “My behind hurts!”?
Bristol? Is this England?...Nope, it’s a place called “Mamkestell”.
I was thinking this girl…I think the reviews said her name was Tiara…was going to sing to the flower to make it perk up again, but nup, she whistled to it. That seems a bit irrelevant, to be honest. (I would prefer an all or nothing approach to a wish-washy approach like this…as in, if this is an idol show, then either go all in with the singing and dancing, or do something else that’ll catch my attention.)
Tiara’s face looks hella generic.
For some reason, I get this ominous feeling when the word “witch” is mentioned…must be the instinct from Madoka popping up again.
Lemme guess. Lynette is the bookworm?...*sigh* Just another method of showing a character is a bookworm without actually showing their reading a book, which I think is counterintuitive.
Get some protective gear, girls!
Rosetta keeps saying “Yes” (in English).
Lemme guess…people ship the dumb one and the smart one? They’re like a gender-flipped Dice and Gentaro, only the smart one is more uppity and the stupid one is more sporty.
The word appears to be noumei, but that exact word doesn’t seem to exist. Lavie seems to say the word is the opposite to something else, but I can’t tell what that is either…
Albino rabbit, eh?
…people probably ship Rosetta and Tiara too, right? *sigh*
So there’s…no singing in this fantasy/idol show. Whistling is how you invoke magic…so how is someone who can’t whistle supposed to invoke magic?!
Whose idea was it to put the OP in the middle of the episode?
It was “Neechan, daikirai!” “Forget you” is a fairly loose translation…
Little Miss Rosetta = Rosetta-chan.
I think Tiara called Rosetta “sensei” when the former wanted the latter to take care of her (i.e. take her to their dorm).
Titi = Tiara. I didn’t actually figure that out because I thought it referred to the rabbits.
Gah! These almost-real-world names (or real world names, in regards to “Bristol”) are gonna drive me NUTS!
*sigh* Boob jiggle.
*sighhhhhhhhh…* Lemme guess, there’s a potential expulsion on the horizon? Update: Yep. Dropped.
God of High School 1
First Webtoon series I’m covering here.
Oh, I checked out the first chapter of the webtoon because CR linked it to their anime page. The only difference I’ve seen from that, aside from fleshing out the backgrounds, is…that creepy skull (?) on the wall.
You can tell it’s Korean when I don’t understand what the text says. (I don’t know Korean, but I do know some Chinese and Japanese.) Update: This is Japanese-dubbed, but they left the Korean text in.
That intro is much more powerful now that the backgrounds are fleshed out.
Ooh, the colours in the OP are very nice!
Hmm? They’re starting with the grandpa, rather than starting with “I’m Mori Jin, 17 years old”? Good choice.
The expressions in this show are funny. I like them already.
Waittttttttt…I dunno how Korean names work. Is Mori Jin’s first name “Mori” or “Jin”? Update: I checked it up, and I got even more confused!
KORG Arena seems to be…from Marvel? Like BnHA references Star Wars???
*sigh* Moonbucks? Again?...and of course the girls only talk about “hotties”. We need a Bechdel test in this thing.
The comments on ch. 1 said “A new Luffy is born”, so now I agree with it…but they’re not going to show how Mori Jin was enlisted for GOH (as they seem to abbreviate it)?
There’s Japanese, English and Korean in the afro dude’s comments.
I’m amazed that tall dude with the spiky hair wasn’t more surprised about Mori Jin and the girl passing by…
Would those glasses on Mori Jin’s head be any help? Update: Turns out those aren’t “glasses”…they’re a sleeping mask.
Kamina glasses!
They put CR and Webtoon advertising over everything in this anime…geesh.
These red parts of people’s noses are gonna bug me, aren’t they…?
It should be battle royale, right? Update: Okay, so I checked and both are correct spellings.
This seems like the sort of thing that would never get funded because you need to pull off every battle scene right.
They cut the initial fight with “Blondie” out, but that actually makes things more interesting! Good choice.
Lemme guess – Mori Jin is going to have to fight this Kang Manseouk guy at full power one day? *shrugs* (Can I stop referring to people by their full names already??? I can’t stop until I know which is the first name and which is the last.) Update: So the wiki finally helped me out and Mori is the first name and Jin the last, meaning I can call him “Mori”. Got it.
*Mori suddenly pulls the prisoner’s pants down* - That was…random.
I liked it more than I thought I would! (Just for reference, the other protag dude is called Han Dae-wi and the girl is Yoo Mira.)
Muhyo and Roji’s BSI s2 1
(Update for the Tumblr fans: I finished s1 outside the seasonal format.) 
Kokkuri-san never goes well in anime…
Where does Nana work again…?
I don’t think Muhyo and Roji are legally (magically legally?) obligated to tell Nana anything about what they do.
Yay! Goryo is animted for the first time! He has such a beautiful voice~!
Notably, Roji wouldn’t have had a smartphone in 2004 (or whatever year close to that when the manga put this bit out).
Goryo (5) vs Muhyo (6). Didn’t figure this out at the time I read the manga.
I think the subbers misgendered Goryo. Goryo is a dude, as can be gathered from the name “Daranimaru”.
“Waka”? Does that stand for “young head [of the office]” or something?
Okay, whose bright idea was it to pair Now on Air (female vocalists) with Muhyo and Roji’s (a series dominated with dudes)…?
Ah, Funimation is on the production team of this anime. That would explain the dub rights.
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