#gonna go listen to behind the sea and pretend i’m 13 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bang-to-the-tan · 4 years

Text

Moth to Flame

Chapter 13

Reader x OT7

► Vampire!AU

Smut/Porn With Some Plot

Warnings: (hoo boy) Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Sloppy Seconds, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Degradation,Somewhat Dubious Consent/Hypnosis, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Handjob, Masturbation, Cumplay, Threesome (M/M/F), Foursome (M/M/M/F), Voyeurism, Slight Stockholm Syndrome?, Possessiveness, Vampires (Biting, Blood-Sucking, Reference to Death), Language

Words: 11.1K (jesus tittyfucking CHRIST)

↳ Summary: Robbed of your memories and intended as a birthday present for a deadly creature of the night, you unwittingly become the center of a territorial dispute between two covens of vampires. Tensions are rising and the brothers are getting hungry…

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Yoongi’s sweatpants fit well enough to get by in, matched with another of Namjoon’s hoodies—this time in a tan color. (How many hoodies does one man need? You’re reminded again of Jin’s seemingly endless supply of clothing, though you don’t dare mention the similarity) The flip flops he’s lent you are a little on the large side, but you doubt it really matters. You’re just glad to be wearing shoes again. As you wait by the door for Namjoon to get his keys and slide his arms through his jacket, tugging on a bucket hat and hanging a pair of sunglasses onto his shirt, you’re still trying to process your emotions. Outside. With other people. Other humans, even. Are you going to run? Are you going to try to escape? It feels like that’s what you should be planning.

“Oh.” Namjoon catches your attention as you muse, pulling dark, smokey fabric your way and wrapping it around your neck. You pluck distractedly at one of the fringes hanging off it, meeting his gaze after a second.

“Just in case,” he says, shifting the scarf around your shoulders more securely. “For the marks.”

“They look bad?”

He tilts your head to the side, inspecting you with a quirk of his lips. “Mm. No. Not really. Kinda healed. But just in case. Don’t want any awkward questions.”

Awkward questions. Like, ‘blink twice if you’re being held hostage’? That kind of awkward? You allow him to tuck the edges back in, hiding the evidence of where you’ve been. What you’ve been doing. What’s been done to you. You grimace. Your head still hurts, and the world has begun spinning a little when you turn your neck too quickly.

You blink, and you’re in the passenger’s seat of the car, staring out the window while Namjoon talks. Vaguely, you’re aware of what he’s saying. That he thinks it’s awfully important. You beg to differ.

“—find you on any, like, missing persons databases so I think we’re in the clear, but just to be safe, y’know. This is…it’s a risk. You understand?”

You hum, working your jaw. You wish he’d gotten you something a little stronger for the headache. It’s better than it was, but not gone. Swear it gets worse when he talks, and he’s talking a lot.

“I need you to behave yourself. Don’t make a scene. If you act out, then we can’t do this anymore.”

You roll your eyes, even knowing that it’s going to twinge at your migraine.

“I’m not gonna run around screaming about being kidnapped, Joon,” you grumble.

“I know. I know, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. I promised you we’d let you go when we’ve…sorted something else out.”

“That’s a different phrasing than you used last time.”

“I’m trying. Okay? Just—I’m not trying to keep you prisoner.”

“Hence the handcuffs.”

You flick a glance over at him just in time to catch the tick of his jaw as he narrows his eyes at the road ahead.

“That is…not the same thing.”

“If it’s sexy, then kidnapping is okay.”

The exasperated snort of air that he answers with is partly humored and partly frustrated.

“You are, annoying sometimes, you know that?”

“I get to be, I think.” You turn back to the window. “Considering.”

“…yeah. Alright. Considering.”

The store has too many fucking people in it, is the thought that occurs to you. At first, pulling into the parking lot, you’re excited to see them. Human beings, running amok, running free. You feel like an animal at a zoo released into the wild. Ordinary people, milling about, going about their ordinary lives. It’s invigorating.

That feeling quickly fades when you actually get into the building. The smells, too-sharp chemicals and body odor hits you immediately; cheaply, quickly cooked food and even cheaper body spray. The noises. Chattering, obnoxious laughing heard from the other side of the store, children shrieking and shouting. A cart down the way has a squeaky wheel and you can track it through the aisles. You ruminate on thoughts of violence perpetrated by the item in question itself, of picking it up and throwing it out the finger-smudged windows with the screeching baby still inside it.

Namjoon’s hand on yours squeezes reassuringly. It’s unclear to you whether he can sense your discomfort but you don’t think you’ll mention it if it’s possible to avoid doing so. You can’t imagine how unbearably smug he’d be to learn that you’d rather be around him than them. Once you’re in the store, he lifts his sunglasses, but leaves the hat on.

“Not gonna burn to a crisp in the sunlight?” You ask after a moment of watching a child attempt to shove his entire hand up one nostril.

“Nah. Just a little sensitive on the eyes.”

“The super cool, far-seeing, all-knowing vampire eyes.”

“Those ones.”

“I should have brought a flashlight to the club, is what you’re telling me.”

He chuckles, shrugging. “Maybe so.”

He leads you to the clothing section, still holding your hand, and there isn’t an atom in your body that is even vaguely alright with the idea of letting him out of your sight. There’s a feeling like you’d get swept up in this sea of people, lost in a world so entirely foreign to you. You know you used to belong here. This used to be yours.

But flicking numbly through shirts and pants, skirts, jackets, mumbling half-remembered guesses at measurements, listening to the cacophony around you, lost in the harsh overhead lights…you don’t belong here. You aren’t sure whether it’s more upsetting to think that you don’t now, or that once upon a time, you did. Once upon a time, you didn’t question it.

A gaggle of teenaged girls passes by. For a third time. They stare at Namjoon in turns, giggling and speeding up, skittering past, chattering to each other excitedly. Their idea of stealth leaves a lot to be desired.

“You have admirers.”

Namjoon cocks his head, lips pursing, as he pulls a t-shirt off the rack and holds it up to you appraisingly. “I’m ignoring them.”

“Not hungry?”

His eyes flit to yours. “Never teenagers.” He replies, low, firm. He sounds almost upset. “Never kids.”

You hear the click of a phone camera and a high-pitched giggle of embarrassment, the forcibly hushed whispers of ‘turn off the noise turn off the noise, oh my god!’.

“Not even annoying ones?”

“If you really want to discourage them, you could kiss me.” He says instead, lightly, but his eyes flick to yours and you can taste the heat behind them.

“That’ll do it, you think?” you echo sardonically.

He hums, nodding once in affirmation.

Before you can think too hard, you slide a hand over his on the shirt hanger, guiding it back towards the rack so that you can close the gap between you. Like the first time, he doesn’t move at first. Allows you to crane upwards, struggle to brush your lips together, before he finally acquiesces and takes the remaining space, laying a lingering kiss against your mouth. He’s warm, soft. His lips taste like him. Like how he smells. Like Namjoon. The two of you lock gazes as you part, and you willfully ignore the electricity shimmying down your body.

“I don’t like the color of that one,” you break the silence after a pause. He blinks slow, a grin crawling across his face.

“No?”

“No. But the one behind it is nice.”

“Anything for baby.”

You don’t allow him the warmth that curls inside of you at that.

The two of you end up standing in line, holding a modest armful of clothing that you’re pretty sure will fit, waiting for your turn at the checkout. It’s not even a matter of what you’re planning to buy at this point—your headache has only gotten worse and it’s all you can do not to lose your fucking mind. You reached the breaking point about ten minutes ago and you’re absolutely going to go batshit if you don’t leave this store immediately. Which is why when Joon starts doing that ‘patting himself down in surprise’ motion, you’re thrown into palpable despair.

“Oh, shit.”

“No. No, Namjoon.” You plead through gritted teeth, throwing him a desperate look.

“My wallet’s in the car.”

“Damn you, goddamn you—“

He grabs your arms with an apologetic smile that dimples his cheeks. “Just stand off to the side. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

“No, Namjoon. No.”

But he’s already skipping away from you, holding up two fingers and mouthing ‘two minutes’ back your way. You hate him. You hope he gets run over while he’s out there.

You trudge over to a nearby empty counter, dumping your armful onto it, resisting the urge to throw yourself on the pile and pull a pair of jeans over your head. Your brain hurts, your teeth are chattering, it’s too bright, it’s too loud, it smells, god, it smells, you had no idea you were so sensitive, you are so ready to go home. And by now you don’t even care that you’re calling it home. You can’t afford to care. What you wouldn’t do for more medication. For that turtle. Oh, how you lament the absence of that heavenly reptile.

“Hey.”

You start at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, sounding up and away but too close to the back of your head. You turn, casting your glance up at the tall man standing by the counter. He’s not a worker; instead of their overly bright getup he’s sporting a leather jacket and black jeans. You don’t understand why he’s talking to you, if that’s the case, and you’re not really in sure how to pretend otherwise at the moment. His grin is crooked, raising his eyebrows expectantly, but at your expression his mischievous look fades.

“…Sorry, I thought I knew you!” He says after an awkward moment. Your heart seizes. Knew you?

He gestures with his hands as he explains. “Y’know, from the back, you look—I thought I recognized you.”

“…O-oh.” You aren’t sure what to say to that. Fuck, you sincerely hope he was mistaken. You hadn’t even considered what would happen if someone who used to know you sees you. The person you were before…before this. You don’t think you recognize him.

There’s another pause, where you turn away slightly, willing this moment to be over, but he doesn’t move. The moment instead stretches into forever. You would like to cease existing.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine! I’m—“ God, it’s been a long time since you’ve spoken to real people. You crane back around, forcing a smile that you hope doesn’t look too forced. “I’m fine. Just waiting. My, um.” You stumble over a way to define Namjoon, deciding in the end to abandon it entirely. “He left his wallet in the car.”

“Hm.” He doesn’t look convinced, flashing you a cursory up-and-down glance. Actually, looking at him, he’s pretty handsome himself. Wide lips, strong nose. A jawline to kill for. His neck is thick. You wonder what else of him—no, no. No. No. You like his eyes, you decide weakly. He’s got kind eyes. Good, nice eyes.

“Do you mind if I talk to you?”

You frown, throwing him another glance. Misgiving pools in your stomach warningly. You really, really aren’t in any kind of state to be carrying conversations with strangers. “Uh.”

He casts a look around, casual if not for the serious slant to his strong brows. He leans forward, pulling one edge of his jacket to the side. You see a flash of silver, recognize the badge hooked to the inside, and it clicks in your head, despite the chaos spinning around the edges of the world like a sick carousel. You don’t see much of the ID badge underneath but for his name, and his serious-faced photo, before he tucks it back away. Jackson. His name is Jackson.

“…You’re a cop.”

“Nothing’s the matter,” he reassures, holding out a hand placatingly, eyes watching yours. “Just like to ask you a few questions.” He jerks his head at the entrance.

“Come with me.”

Oh. Relief floods your limbs so intense you almost sigh aloud. That’s okay, then. Yeah, that’s fine. The clothes’ll be alright here for a second longer, you’re sure. You’re already following him as he peels off the counter and starts walking casually, your doubts melting away, making your steps lighter. Local police. Just a few questions, yeah. You can handle that. God, you were so afraid for a minute. The thought makes you chuckle under your breath when his back is turned as he leads you out the door, turning the corner to an alcove by the entrance. You definitely can handle whatever this handsome stranger wants to dole out.

He turns when you get there, stepping to the side so you can tuck yourself by the side of the building, out of view of any nosy people.

“How can I help you, officer?” you ask demurely, a smile curling the edge of your lips. Just being out of that building is helping your headache immensely. It’s fading as you speak, releasing its grip on your jaw, your thoughts.

He cranes over his shoulder to survey the parking lot behind him and you take the brief respite to admire the way his shirt pulls across subtle pecs, across broad shoulders, underneath the jacket that does little to hide his physique. The way he fills those black jeans. You like the obvious power in what you can see. Is it weird to be checking the cop out? No. No, certainly not. You resist the urge to bite your lip when he looks back to you and grins again. He’s cute when he smiles.

“So where are you from?”

“Ah…not too far from here, actually,” you return, playing at shy.

“No?” he chuckles, and the giggle threatening to bubble up past your lips finally wins over. You sway a little with the girlish sound. It’s all part of the act. You’re a normal human girl talking to a normal, albeit strikingly handsome, police officer. Everything is fine. “You sure? You aren’t from a little further up north? Think very carefully.”

You shake your head, grinning. The world around you spins delightfully when you do, fuzzing slightly about the edges. It’s really warm out here. You didn’t notice that before. It’s nice. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Don’t think so?” he echoes, stepping closer. That’s good. You like that. Your heartbeat quickens in your throat. “Weird way to answer…are you having trouble remembering?”

“Maybe.” You giggle again, feeling a thrill wash through your frame when he takes another step forward, threatening to invade your space. You fall back to the wall, leaning your head against it to allow yourself a better view of his smirk. Your head doesn’t want to stay upright properly, but the wall helps. If you can just get him a little closer…maybe you could…he is very handsome. And his lips…You stare at them with hunger pooling in your gut, intently watching the way they pull when he scoffs. Very kissable. Check.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess,” he murmurs in that low growl of his, “About who you really are…”

One hand comes up to brace against the wall, caging you in. You can feel his warmth now. Can smell the mint on his breath. Your stomach twists in anticipation. There’s something familiar in his expression now. A darkness. A hunger. You’re beyond pleased to see it in a face so handsome.

“Going by these…” he hums, and you feel a finger dragging against the column of your neck, slipping underneath the scarf. You huff a pleased breath, craning to press more of your skin towards him, nearly moaning when he presses his hot palm against the bitemarks in a curious fashion. “And…this…” His hand slides down, disentangling from the fabric, fingertips grazing your sternum, too close to the mark at your breast. He’s finding your little secrets very easily, you think with a hushed giggle. You wonder if he’ll get the next one. You hope he gets the next one. Arousal crawls down your spine and you arch at the thought, suddenly desperate for it.

“Hah, fuck, wow, that’s a reaction, huh? They treat you nice?”

You’re nodding, whimpering when his hand starts towards your hip. He nuzzles forward, presses a testing peck against your lips but you surge towards him, clutching at his wide shoulders, pulling him closer. He chuckles breathlessly against your mouth as you kiss him, a free hand going to his wrist and tugging it towards your inner thigh. He tastes like mint gum, warm lips caressing yours firmly, supple and pliant.

“Are you good for them?” he whispers between kisses. “Hmm?”

“So good,” you simper, humming when he nips lightly at your mouth. “I’m so good.”

“What do they call you? Are you their little whore? Little pet? Hm?” he clutches the meat of your thigh suddenly, and your approving squeak is muffled by his tongue, wet, slippery, sloppy.

“Could you be good for me too?” he growls when you part, licking across your swollen lips. The sound of it, already so rough, so low, has you twitching. “Could you add one more to your little collection?”

“Yes,” you’re tugging him closer, writhing when his hand ghosts to cup you between the legs, firm, possessive, demonstrative. “Y-Yes, yes, I can be good.”

“Can you be quiet?” he adds with a hushed laugh, raising his eyebrows at your fevered expression as you continue to scrabble at him, yanking on his jacket, his wrist, begging and twisting. “You have to—shh,” he shushes you when you keen, pressing his fingers closer to your pussy through Yoongi’s sweatpants, feeling for your heat and finding it easily, “You’re too fucking loud. You have to be quiet, or else—“

“She’s very vocal.”

You almost cry out in pleasure when you hear the voice that breaks through the cop’s low mumbling, arching and trembling against the wall. But he told you to hush, so you bite down on your lip, vision swimming with sweet obedience and heady recognition.

“I can see that.” The dark-eyed officer chuckles after a beat, his hand slipping from your apex despite your muffled, disappointed noise and attempts to pull him back. “Shocked nobody’s been called in for domestic disturbance around yours yet.” He pulls his hand from you easily, leaning back and turning to better address the owner of voice behind him.

Arousal skitters up your spine, coiling in your limbs, at the way Namjoon flicks you a momentary, disapproving look, his jaw ticking. Is he thinking of punishing you for this? You hope so. But his plump lips curve into an overly-pleasant smile, eyes crinkling as they cast to the other man.

“By all means, don’t let me interrupt.” He says smoothly. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

“I’d hate to get in any real trouble,” is the reply, just as cool. “Have to set an example for Yugyeom, right?”

Your body itches. Everything is warm, soft, bubbly, and the heat of the man in front of you is like a furnace, the hot center of your universe. You sneak your fingers into his belt loops, scooting him closer to you, and he allows it with a vaguely smug expression.

Namjoon’s smile doesn’t move, frozen on his face. “Your border is a few miles north from here, isn’t it? You’re cutting it a little close, don’t you think? Jackson?”

Jackson blinks, straightening. He grabs your wandering hand by the wrist from where it had travelled around his side to his zipper (how on earth did it get there, you wonder with a snicker), holding it up and away from his body with one wide palm. You whine through your nose. “We’re just passing through.” His tone has turned more serious. Respectful. “Avoiding the main roads. Won’t be spending more than a few hours this close to your territory.”

“Passing through?”

Jackson hesitates.

“We’re leaving, Namjoon.”

Namjoon’s smile falls, curving into a confused frown, his brow creasing. “What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

“It’s too slim here. We’re not having any luck lately. It’s my turn to disappear anyways.”

You press up against Jackson’s side, trying to slide your other hand up under his shirt, but he catches that one, too, holding you prisoner against the tacky feel of leather and his body heat. You mewl pointedly, hands straining, rocking against him. What’s he so busy for? Can’t he see that you need it? Your mouth waters. You need it…Up against this wall, bent over—you imagine Namjoon joining in and the thought has you aching. You can always prove how good you are. Can always show your new friend how good you can be for him.

Namjoon’s frown takes his lips with it, bares his teeth in a grimace. “You can’t be serious. What, already? What are we supposed to do?”

Jackson cocks his head in your direction and returns your sly grin with a raise of his eyebrows, briefly looking you over with an expression that makes you wet. You hum, trying to send him psychic requests for touching, kissing, biting through your locked gaze.

“Looks like you’re already doing something.”

“She…she was an accident.”

“And here I thought you and Jin had finally made nice.” Jackson looks back to Namjoon, neck lolling with disbelief. He lets go of your hands, spinning and suddenly disentangling you from him in one smooth motion. He pushes your arms to your own chest and looks you dead in the eyes again. Hours pass where you’re lost in his eyes, caught in the endless depths of obsidian, floating in nothing and everything.

“Don’t. Move.”

A shiver wracks your body violently, and you have to throw yourself against the wall just to avoid crumpling to the ground with the pleasure that comes with obeying. You won’t move, you won’t move. You can do that for him. You press yourself to the brick, shuddering and panting quietly, eyes trained on his frame, watching how the world seems to heave with your every breath, lends him and Joon halos, makes heat spark and flare inside of you.

“You’re not actually leaving. We need you up north. Who’s taking your place?”

Jackson shakes his head, craning back to Namjoon. His tongue flits to wet his lips, gaze flicking upwards. You can think of better places his tongue could be. “No one. All of us are headed southwest.”

“Jaebum has better sense.”

“Back when it was an option.”

“You can’t just fucking leave, Jackson, we need cover. Now more than ever.”

“Wasn’t that the point of Jungkook?”

Ohh, Jungkook. You like Jungkook. Jungkook would take you. Press you up against the wall again, like when you met, but this time…you’re threatening to drool. Not moving is really hard.

“Jungkook is a kid. They’ll notice eventually. Jin isn’t thinking about the long term.”

“Then you’ll have to move anyways. You can’t just stubborn your way through everything, Namjoon.”

Namjoon’s smile returns, but it’s tight, dangerous. He looks like a predator. It’s a good look, makes you warm and wet all over, but you know better than anyone how to smooth it off him.

“I appreciate your opinion.”

“Good. I like giving it.”

“Stay out of my territory.” He pulls the phrase through his grin, low and heavy with threat. “If I catch any of you with so much as a toe over the line, I’ll pull you apart.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Like I said, we’re just passing through. Thought we’d grab one for the road in between territories.” Jackson flashes you another glance and you shiver. “…I won’t say anything about her, though. For you.”

“I told you she was an accident. You know times are tough.”

“I don’t agree with taking them like this. I don’t know anyone who does.”

“It’s temporary.”

Jackson shrugs.

“I’ll leave her with you anyway.” He says finally, with a sniff. “From the smell of her, you’ve got enough to worry about with just the two of you involved.”

He ruffles the back of his hair as he starts to walk. Namjoon doesn’t step aside for him, only watching as he gets close. When he comes within distance, he reaches forward and takes his arm. It’s weirdly gentle, familiar. You wish he’d grab you instead. Less gently would be preferable. Be nice if you could move, also.

“Tell me someone is staying.” Namjoon pleads. His eyes are genuine as he searches the other man’s. “Someone, anyone. Tell me we’ve still got cover. That the riots won’t reach us.”

Jackson slowly, hesitantly, places his hand on top of Namjoon’s.

“…You said it yourself. Times are tough, Joon.” He replies, quiet. “I’m sorry.”

This time, when he moves to walk past, both hands slipping from his arm, Namjoon angles his body to the side to allow him the space to continue.

“By the way,” Jackson adds after a beat, “You might want to check the ‘most wanted’ lists for up north. I could be wrong, but I think you’ve got one more problem.”

Namjoon’s head drops into a defeated nod, worrying his lower lip through his teeth as Jackson turns the corner out of sight, back towards the entrance.

Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move. A particularly violent shudder courses through you and you whine at the feeling of disobedience, but your body is shaking, breath coming in irregular pants. You’ve broken out in a sweat, your entire frame twitching and needy. Namjoon’s form ahead of you has you wanting, knowing he could make it better, he could kiss and lick and bite and touch and fondle and you need him to. But he only stands there, brow furrowed at the concrete beneath his feet, scratching at the back of his neck distractedly.

“N-Namjoon,” you whisper before you can stop yourself, feeling a thrill race through you when he freezes. Jackson said you needed to be quiet, so you don’t dare say much else, but when Namjoon looks up and meets your eye with a steely glare, you bite back a whimper.

“And you,” he says, low. “What do you have to say for yourself, hm?”

You only watch him, shivering.

“Speak,” he commands.

“Please, please, Namjoon,” you’re begging, babbling loosed from your lips in a tidal wave, “Please, I’m so hot, I need, I need you, I’m so warm, Namjoon, I need—“

“Were you going to let him fuck you?”

“I—“

“Were you. Going to let Jackson fuck you?”

“….I…” your mouth goes dry. At his scathing look you crumble. “Y-yes, yes, I wanted—“

“You were going to let him bite you?”

Your voice has become small, hesitant, but the surface of your skin still buzzes and every time you answer him, pleasure rushes up your spine. “Yes.”

“After I told you not to.”

“I’m hazed,” you whine, shuffling your feet, squeezing your thighs together.

He shakes his head, casting his glance to the side with an expression that morphs into desperation mirroring your own. “…Fuck.”

Yes. Yes, exactly. You concur.

“Come—” He gestures, but the movement doesn’t even register until you’ve already thrown yourself into his outstretched arm, nuzzling into his shirt, pressing as much of you against you as you can manage.

“—here,” he cuts off with a shocked wheeze when you slide your palm down past the front of his pants, rubbing for his cock through his jeans. A thrill runs through you at the realization that he isn’t soft under there. You growl. He grabs for your wrists, shaking, eyes wide as he tries to meet yours. “Hey, whoah, no—fuck, goddamn it.” “Naaaaaamjooon,” you complain. “I was gonna let you fuck me, too…”

“I can see that.” His voice is strangled. He pauses, grip briefly tightening over your wrists and you purr at the feeling.

“Get in the car,” he says finally.

“You could haze me more to get in the car,” you waggle your eyebrows at him, chuckling under your breath at the bubbliness of the world in the corners of your vision.

“Or I could tell you to get in the fucking car and then you just do it.”

“I’ll do something fucking for you, Namjoon.”

“Get. In the car.” He sounds strained, but you’ll take it. Eventually, he’ll give you what you want. You don’t even have to worry about it! You stumble with him to the car, giggling when he tries to usher you into the passenger’s side and avoid the way you’re trying to pull him on top of you.

By the time he comes around the other side to sit behind the wheel, he’s already chattering to himself under his breath. He does like to talk a lot.

“Get Hoseok to pull some strings with one of his, get those clothes bought, look up the wanted section—wanted? What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Godammit, Jackson—gotta give this time to wear off. Maybe we can sneak you past Yoongi. Maybe he’s sleeping. God, I hope he’s sleeping.”

Your hands are wandering again. Drifting over the center console as the car jerks roughly under you and starts speeding smoothly into the sunset. It’s way more interesting to you, what’s happening inside the vehicle. Your fingers dance over to Namjoon’s lap, trailing, watching his face for any sign that he’s going to stop you. His jaw clenches again and he throws you a grim glance.

“Don’t think about it.”

“Think about what.”

“You know what.”

“Taking your cock out?” You clarify innocently, watching with interest the shuddering inhale he takes. “Putting your cock in my mouth?”

“Exactly that.” His teeth are gritted.

“Tasting the tip?” you continue, curious, brushing a palm against his crotch, feeling triumphant at the way the fabric stirs, the way he shifts underneath you. “Or deeper?” Your mouth isn’t working exactly the way you’d like, you’re slurring pretty hard, but you’re already drooling at the thought of sucking him off.

“I’m trying to fucking drive,” he whines, and the sound takes you aback slightly, watching his brow crease in frustration. Consent. Namjoon likes consent. He likes it when you ask.

“Can I suck your dick?” You ask with a polite smile, delighted with yourself for figuring him out so quickly. “Namjoon?” His hips rise of their own volition, stuttering. He doesn’t reply beyond a sharp breath and you frown. Not a ‘no’. But not a yes.

Wait a minute. You’re being so silly. You’ve forgotten the most important part!

“Can I suck your dick, sir?...”

He growls.

“No.” he says. You pout. You did so well, and this is what you get for it. You’re a good girl, why is he going to act like this?

“But I—“

“No buts.” He snaps. “Hands to yourself. Don’t move until we get home.”

Gold dust bursts beneath your eyelids, gathers under your skin, slinks up your throat, and you lean back into the car to watch it curl up through the atmosphere. Your hands are by your side. Where they belong. Where they’ve always been. You barely even notice how hard Namjoon is breathing.

By the time you get home, the soft lights and rounded corners of the world have faded some—not enough to be gone, but enough that your attention has returned to the wetness between your legs. You’re so wet. There’s even a patch forming on Yoongi’s sweatpants. You hope he won’t mind. You recall the way he licked you up in the diner and shudder. He definitely won’t mind.

Namjoon leads you quickly out of the car and up the stairs to the apartment, refusing to look at you, eyes wild, brows furrowed, nostrils flaring and jaw working. He looks like he’s thinking about lots of important things. One of them ought to be how good you’ve been, and how much you need him to touch you, but you’ll let him come to that conclusion himself.

He halts violently in the front hall eyes wide.

“Shit.”

“…Namjoon?” Yoongi’s voice comes from the living room, sounding surprised, almost…guilty?

Namjoon immediately takes a few steps forward, body angled between you and the room.

You peer around him to snag a peek anyways. Yoongi stares back at you from his position on the couch, belly down and hunched over something black. The bags under his eyes are almost a weird shade of purple, they’re so dark. He looks like he’s dying, drawn and fixated. When your gazes meet, his tongue slips over his lips, slow, heady. You whimper before you’re even aware you’re doing it.

“Really? Yoongi?” Namjoon sounds exasperated. Worn thin.

“Really yourself,” Yoongi bites back, but his tone is gravelly. “When you said you were going shopping I thought it would be for longer than five minutes.”

“On the couch?”

Yoongi’s upper row of teeth suddenly bare in a lopsided grin with a mild chuckle. “Not the worst thing to happen on the couch. Right?”

His smile drops suddenly, nostrils flaring. A shiver crawls up your spine as you watch his hips rock forwards and his eyes flutter back in his head. “A-ah, fuck. What the fuck have you two been doing?...”

It isn’t until you feel Namjoons arm raising to halt you at your chest that you realize you’ve been scooting forward in a trance, trying to catch a closer look at the fabric that Yoongi presses his face into now with a low groan.

“Yoongi…” Joon swallows, hard, “You should go back in your room.”

“She’s fucking hazed, isn’t she, Joon? Fuck, she’s so wet,” he continues to hiss under his breath, as if to himself. “Fuck, she’s so wet.”

This time you can see his arm shift, can hear a slick noise from underneath him, his breath catching. His jeans are hanging a little low on his hips, baring a black strip of underwear, you realize, and with that realization comes understanding. The fabric is Namjoon’s old hoodie. He’s got it pinned to the couch beneath him. When he nuzzles into it, you recognize the faded pattern from the hem brushing his nose. It’s upside down, so that his face is where…where your pussy was.

“It was a mistake,” Namjoon says while your world spins dizzyingly with arousal.

“Hmm…” Yoongi grunts, impossibly low in his throat. “Lots of those.” He doesn’t sound fully cognizant of what he’s saying. It’s absent, slurred. You see why when he twists his head again, mouth lolling open to lap secretively at the hoodie, his tongue pointed and firm. Arousal slips heat down your back, between your legs when you spot his bared teeth. Long, sharp, glistening with saliva as he exhales shakily. Oh, yes. That’s what you want.

Namjoon’s arm presses against you and he takes a half a step back, taking you with him even though you don’t really want to walk backwards. The way Yoongi tucks his head into the hoodie, his hair splaying against the fabric, inhales loudly, humps forward, hips curling with a sloppy sound that indicates just how wet he is in his own palm—it reminds you of an animal.

“Gonna bite holes in the couch, Joon,” he warns thick, muffled. “Mmm…I’m going to lose my fucking mind. She’s fucking hazed. God, I-I can’t do this.”

“It’s only been a day.” Namjoon’s voice is strained. You cast a curious look at him, but immediately your eye is drawn to the tent growing in his pants. He tries to move it, tries to casually tuck it out of view, but it’s too late, the damage is done, and a huff of desire escapes from your throat, eyes threatening to bulge out of your head. You like very much the way things are shaping up. “It’s only been a day—“

“Fuck. Fuck.”

“—We need to give her time to recover—“

Yoongi makes a noise that’s too close, too close, to a high-pitched whimper, his head still bent, hiding his face.

“Recover nothing, recover is bullshit,” he’s babbling, dark, frustrated, garbled by the pillows underneath him. “I need—“

“It’s not a good idea.”

“I need to be inside of her now, Namjoon.” Yoongi pulls his head back up, laying his cheek ontop of the hoodie. His eyes are blown wide, all traces of brown swallowed by obsidian, hooded and piercing as he meets your gaze, blazing a path straight through you. His delicate lips can barely keep his teeth at bay, bitten, abused pink playing peekaboo with glistening pinpricks of ivory. His jet hair spiders out across his forehead, stuck in places with sweat. “I need to drain her.”

“It isn’t a good—“

“I’ll kill you.” It fights its way past his lips, stuttering and stammering, like an addict denied his high, lent credence by the way he digs his nails into the sofa, ruts into his own hand. “I—I’ll, Joon, I’ll fucking kill you.”

There’s a pause of silence, punctuated only by your breathing and the soft fabric noises as Yoongi humps the couch.

“…No, you won’t.” Namjoon’s voice is soft. Quiet. He sighs through his nose, long and weary.

Yoongi opens his mouth to reply, but he stills at the same time you see movement in the corner of your eye. A hand drifting to the hem of Namjoon’s second hoodie. Its twin, on the other side. Shuffling its grip up, taking the hoodie and the scarf with it, peeling it up and over your head with all the gentleness of a caretaker. You can’t look away from Yoongi. He’s stopped moving entirely, too-bright eyes watching you from over the pillows, a snake in the grass ready to strike. You don’t think he’s breathing. Namjoon’s hands return, slipping long fingers beneath the elastic waistband. He shucks them off you, helping you step out by placing your hand on his shoulder. One leg at a time. You sway a little, completely nude, standing in the living room like a sacrificial offering to the heathen gods. And the intensity with which the creature on the couch watches you, your chest heaving with heady breath, tells you that analogy isn’t far off.

You next feel warmth at your hand, wandering fingers drifting to clutch yours in a show of unexpected softness.

“We aren’t going to hurt her,” Namjoon says, fighting to keep a tremble out of his voice. Is it excitement? Fear? “We’re going to take care of her. Right, Yoongi?”

“Fuck,” Yoongi whispers, eyes wide.

“We aren’t going to hurt her.”

“No.” Yoongi echoes.

“We’re going to take care of her.”

“Yes.”

“I will use force if I have to.”

“Mm.”

Namjoon nods, once. The hand at yours disappears, reappearing with a sudden grip of your hair, tugging your head back.

“You wanted so badly to suck cock, baby,” Namjoon snarls into your ear, sending hot breath coasting against your neck, making you squeal when he yanks unmercifully, his grip burning against your scalp, “Here’s your fucking chance. You’re going to take Yoongi down your throat like a good slut. I don’t want you coming up for breath. Do you understand?”

“I understand, sir,” you mewl immediately, scrabbling upwards, delicate fingers flying to his with no effect. The switch has left you reeling with whiplash, but it makes you shake all the same. All the same, it makes you ache. He releases you, shoving forward, and you stumble, catching yourself on the arm of the couch, just beside Yoongi’s head.

Yoongi still hasn’t moved. You slide to the front of the sofa, eyes trained on his, unable to keep down the feeling of being a steak in a lion’s den. But he uncurls from his position, turning to reveal his dick to you, head cocked, hands clutching the cushions on either side of his legs like he has half a mind to tear them to shreds.

You almost choke, just looking at him. Flushed a painful red from tip to base, bright veins bulging angrily, twitching in the cold air apart from his hand. Coated in precum, streaks shining in the light down what you can see of his lower belly, wet patches soaked through the bottom of his white shirt, glazing his cock. Under your stare, it oozes another dribble, and suddenly you’re famished.

“Please.”

It doesn’t register as a word until he shifts, legs widening, hands kneading. You look back to his face. He looks half out of his mind, eyes dark.

“Please.” He repeats, hoarse.

You’re already falling to your knees, jaw dropping opening with the sick plop of your tongue leaving the roof of your mouth, reaching for his thighs. His hips flex when you get close, easing his head past your lips and you can taste the heat before you even descend on him, sucking, laving at his fevered skin.

The noise he makes is sin, lust, and velvet. Not far from a purr. His hands don’t move from where they’re digging into the cushions, allowing you to take as much of him as you want, as much as you can. You fill your senses with him greedily; his taste, his smell, every twitch of his thighs and every bob of his cock into your mouth.

You feel wandering fingers trace your spine, curling around your ass, alighting to your dripping pussy with intent. When two push inside, eased tremendously by the seemingly endless slick that drips from your entrance, you arch into him.

“Y-You fuck her first,” Namjoon’s murmuring from behind as he presses his fingers into you, scissoring, stretching, curling seekingly. You hump against his hand, trying to push him deeper even as you suck Yoongi’s cock down your throat with a slavering eagerness. “Or-or maybe I do…M-maybe we…”

“Both,” Yoongi growls, sharp. A moan bubbles up around his member from your throat and his hips rise to meet the sensation, almost lazy if not for the way he shakes. You feel a hand curling into your hair less than gently, by your face, tugging your head a little to the side so that he can look you in the eye while you suckle at his head. He’s grinning, feral and distant. As your gazes lock, he scrunches his nose at you in a playful snarl.

“You have two holes for a reason, don’t you think?” he drawls past a slur. “Let’s see how wide we can stretch them.”

Behind you, Namjoon grunts deep in his throat and his pace stutters. “Sh-shit, that’s—“

“She wants it. You want it, don’t you? You want me in your ass. You want Namjoon in your cunt. Admit it.” He tsks, his tone dropping somehow lower. “Admit it, and we’ll prepare you first.”

He pulls you off his cock with a fierce tug of your locks caught between his knuckles, teeth baring again in a half smirk, half grimace as he watches you take deep gasping breaths with all the tenderness of a hawk surveying its squeaking prey.

“I—I do.”

“Little whore.” The vampire in front of you hisses, murmurs, but the thumb brushing against your swollen lips is akin to fond. “I know you do. You want Namjoon’s fingers in your tight little hole?”

You’re nodding into his palm, trying to shift your weight more comfortably on your knees. Either he doesn’t notice or he’s pretending not to, perfectly fine with allowing you to arch, crane. Twitching when Namjoon’s fingers bump against those perfect places inside of you with slick, overly wet noises.

“You want him to stretch you wide for me. You want to beg us for it.”

“I do. I want it.”

“I don’t know that she can take it,” Namjoon mumbles, hoarse, but his fingers give you one more pump, squelching into your arousal, before they’re sliding slowly out, tracing up back towards your spine.

“She’ll fucking take it.” Yoongi’s leading you back to his cock, pressing your cheek to his strained member. His head throws back with a low groan when you obligingly lick up as much of his skin as you can, tasting salt and feeling the heat under your tongue. “She’ll take it and she’ll love it.”

“I’ll take it so good,” you agree between laves, between sloppy kisses and slurps. “I’ll take it.”

Warmth presses experimentally against the tight ring of muscles at your ass. When you tense thoughtlessly, it immediately disappears, Namjoon exhaling shakily.

“I don’t think—“ he mumbles.

“I think,” Yoongi snaps. “Stop fucking thinking, Namjoon. Just do it.”

There’s a pause, a shuffling from behind you, the sound of a bottlecap popping open. The fingers return, and this time you make sure to roll towards them, humming your approval as you lathe up and down Yoongi’s member sloppily. This time, you recognize a much slicker feeling—he must have found lube. Just for you. How nice of him. One digit presses deeper, sinking into you and you huff a sigh at the strange sensation; even with the lube, it hurts, just a little, just a sting, but it’s warm and smooth, filling you up. Another finger pad rubs comforting circles into your clit as he pumps his finger steadily into your asshole. Yoongi purrs with appreciation at the both of your compliances, hips twitching.

“Mm, yeah, stretch her good. Stretch her so good, so I can slip right inside of that tight little ass.”

Namjoon introduces a second finger and you have to stop sucking Yoongi’s cock to rest your head in his lap, keening at the intrusion. It burns, it burns, but the thought of taking his member inside of you, the thought of taking both of them, has you shaking with anticipation.

“Hoseok’s gonna be so mad,” Yoongi mutters, watching you whimper and carding lithe fingers through your hair. “His loss.”

Namjoon’s abrupt chuckle is humorless and short. “Hoseok is in big trouble for that stunt he pulled last night.”

“Hmm? What stunt?” The corner of Yoongi’s mouth twitches upwards in a knowing grin. A hand explodes against your ass, forcing you to jump, working yourself harder on Namjoon’s fingers, and you moan thickly.

“Tell him.”

“H-Hoseok came in the room while I was being pun-punished,” You stutter as Namjoon slides a third finger into your quivering hole, stretching you further with a deep grunt. “He-he fucked my chest.”

Yoongi chuckles. “Shh,” he hums, mock-comforting, stroking your hair with one hand as his other drifts to his own member, teasing at the purpled, leaking head absently, drifting to lock around his base. “I know. I know. Did you like it? Hm? You did, didn’t you? I bet it made you so fuckin’ wet for Hobi’s cock.”

He makes a thick noise deep in his throat. “Namjoon.”

“Gently,” is the response. Namjoon’s fingers slip out of you, even as your body clamps down on him as if trying to convince him deeper, and the rush of pleasure as they’re removed has you shuddering. “Go slow.”

But Yoongi’s gripping your hair, patting your cheek, is excited and rushed. Feverish.

“Turn around. Turn around,” he urges.

Obediently, you sit up shakily, assisted by an arm slipping beneath yours, and turn to face Namjoon. At some point, he’s taken his shirt off, unbuttoned his pants to better stroke at the bulge growing at his crotch. His eyes are hooded, his lips are red from his own worrying. He flicks his eyebrows at you when Yoongi’s hand comes up with a sharp crack on your asscheek, jolting you forward. You can hear him shuffling out of his pants entirely behind you.

“Ready?” Joon asks.

You nod, leaning up and seeking out his lips again. He kisses you back briefly, hands alighting on your waist to encourage you down. Yoongi’s hands drift over your ass, your thighs, tugging you closer, pulling you to meet the hot skin of his lap. His fingers as they dance over your cheeks, shifting you open so that he can rub the tip of his dick against your opening. The hot, slick feeling of his velvet head finally breaching the tight ring of muscle has you gasping, scrabbling at Namjon’s arms.

Yoongi is definitely bigger than Namjoon’s fingers. As you sink down on him, impaling yourself on his cock, you clutch forward at Namjoon desperately, mouth open to allow for the breathless mewls escaping your throat. Behind you, Yoongi grunts and hums directly into your ear, tsking through his teeth.

“Are you okay, baby?” Namjoon murmurs, almost sweet if not for the feverishly intent way he watches his elder penetrate you. “Is that still good?”

“Big,” you hiccup, unconsciously trying to shift your hips to accommodate the girth as it parts your walls. “It-it’s big.”

“I know,” he soothes. He keeps up petting your cunt, brushing your clit, rubbing your tits. He leans forward, pressing soothing kisses to your collarbone, up your neck, the edge of your mouth. “I know. You tell me if it’s too much.”

“Oh fuck,” Yoongi growls, low, when he finally bottoms out, sheathing himself completely inside you. “Oh fuck. God, you take it so good. You take it so well. Are you sure Jin’s boys didn’t do this for you?”

“N-No.” You’re glowing at the praise, at the attention, as you adjust. The pain quiets to an ache the longer you sit there, but you won’t deny the twitching in your limbs, the leaking of your pussy. It isn’t taking you too long to warm to the idea of taking both of them at the same time.

“No? No, just us, hm? Think they’ll be jealous, Namjoon?” Yoongi catches your earlobe with a bite that’s a little too sharp, humming.

“Jealous that we got to have so much of baby? Oh, yeah.” Namjoon mumbles, kissing you deep. His tongue slides across yours, sweet and gentle. Your lips smack obnoxiously when you part, the sound so loud in this enclosed space between your faces. “Jealous that she’s ours.”

“Is that right?” Yoongi’s hips move experimentally, thrusting shallow, and you moan at the sensation. It’s like he’s reaching through you to your guts, and you love it. “Are you ours? Hmm?”

“Y-yours,” you choke, humping with him.

Eyes caught in yours, Namjoon fishes his cock out of his underwear, giving the thick length a pump, two, before he’s edging closer. He’s kissing you again as he sinks into you, and you melt into the bliss of being held so intimately, so gently. Yoongi at your back, rocky steadily into your ass, Joon at your front, thrusting into your wet pussy, both humming and grunting with the effort as you writhe helplessly between them. You’re so full, so full, disallowed from resting between thrusts with the alternating rhythm they quickly fall into.

“F-fuck,” Namjoon growls. “So good, you’re doing so good for us, baby.”

When he thrusts especially hard, you can feel it criminally deep inside of you and you arch, hips lifting to meet him. The feeling of both of them fucking into you simultaneously, breathing into your ears, moaning, has you roiling in ecstasy, strong, warm arms holding you up, moving you against them, caressing breasts and rolling your clit.

“I-I’m not going to fucking last…” Joon warns.

Yoongi chuckles breathily, licking his lips so sloppily it’s loud.

“Cum in her,” he demands, hoarse, “Give her everything. I want to feel it.”

There’s the sound of the lock turning at the front door. Namjoon’s pace quickens with a groan. He starts pounding into your cunt, leaning over you with his brow furrowed, lips parted, sweat making his neck, his cheeks, glisten. His cock fucks so smoothly into your cunt, stretching you around his girth, bottoming out and slipping until he finally settles for rocking up deep into you. The sounds his pelvis makes as he fucks you perfectly are loud, stuttering.

“Gonna, gonna,” he mumbles, licking up your lips.

“Hoo!” Hoseok’s voice calls from the front hall, “What is going on in…here…?”

Joon stills inside you with a violent thrust, cock buried deep inside of your guts, pulsing as he paints your walls with wet warmth, exhaling a grunt into the crook of your neck. Yoongi stills completely, moaning low in your ear.

There’s a pause, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of everyone present. Namjoon presses a sweet kiss to your mouth, humping once, twice, sliding his spent cock from your gaping hole with a hiss.

When he moves to look to Hoseok, you get to see him too.

Standing in the hall, a gym bag slung over his shoulder. His hair’s wet at his forehead with sweat. Under your stare, he licks his lips. His eyes are already smoldering, congenial grin faded into a hungry look.

“You guys having fun?” he asks, falsely conversational.

“No, it’s the worst.” Yoongi’s deadpan reply doesn’t earn him more than a flick of the eyes. “You should probably go back to the studio.”

“Sorry, Hope,” Namjoon interjects softly, still panting. “It—we didn’t mean to go this far.”

“I did.” Yoongi interrupts again in a whisper. You jolt at the feeling of his hot, slick tongue suddenly wetting a path up your neck to your ear. You squirm, both of you moaning quietly when you jostle his cock inside you.

Hoseok shrugs, lips curving into a pout. He slips his gym bag off his shoulder, tossing it carelessly to the ground as Joon flops to the side of the couch, far enough to be out of the way but close enough to keep a discerning eye on Yoongi.

“Well. I’m here now…” Hoseok says low, stalking closer. You’re suddenly very aware of how lewd you must look right now. Yoongi buried in your ass, Joon’s cum leaking out of your wrecked pussy.

“Hmmm about that…Hoseok misbehaved, didn’t he?” Yoongi murmurs into your ear, his breath tickling your neck. He shifts, beginning to roll into you again, stealing your breath. “Left you high and dry. What do you say we leave him?”

It’s impossible to concentrate, between his smooth fucking into your asshole, the way Joon’s rapidly cooling cum runs down your cunt, the smoldering glare that Hoseok throws your way.

“We can make him watch.” Yoongi’s next thrust is overly excited, and you jerk back into him with a loud moan, back arching as his cock parts your tight hole and slips up into your depths. It dislodges more of the cum inside you, encouraging it to ooze out in a fresh glob painting your slit. “Hmmm…we can make him watch and he can fucking cream all over himself in his ridiculous fucking pants. Make him clean it up, suck it up out of the fabric, no hands.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Hoseok’s smile is not friendly. It’s dark, dangerous—not far removed from an animalistic sneer.

“You don’t think I would?” is the glib response, heavy with promise, punctuated by a grunt when you clench around him. Hoseok’s smile disappears.

“Fuck, fuck,” Yoongi pants into your skin, tsking through his teeth. “What a fucking idea. What a fucking idea. You want to see it, too, don’t you?”

“P-promised,” you stammer, mind reeling, toes curling.

“What was that, slut?” Yoongi snarls, a free hand curving around your neck. Namjoon’s eyes dart to his fingers with an expression that betrays how ready he is to save you, even as he continues to recover from his position on the floor, but Yoongi doesn’t tighten his grip more than enough to choke your words and make it difficult to slur through them.

“He, H-Hoseok promised, he promised, t-to fuck me.”

“He promised to fuck you.”

“Mm,” you whimper, nodding, vision swimming with heady pleasure.

“You can’t get enough, is that what you’re telling me?”

“N-no.” You moan when he starts to thrust even harder into you.

“Never enough cock for you. Never stuffed full enough, never satiated. It would take all of us, wouldn’t it, and still you’d beg for more. Tell me I’m wrong.

Come here,” he barks, fevered, without waiting for your reply. “Get over here.”

Automatically, Hoseok moves, the edges of his expression softening as Yoongi’s haze pulls a veil over his eyes. He doesn’t even get a full step forward before Yoongi is commanding him again.

“Down. Knees.”

Hoseok’s legs buckle at the knees, his head flopping forward, eyes fixated on the unbelievably erotic sight of Yoongi’s cock disappearing into you and reappearing covered in juices and lube, the way your pussy weeps clear arousal and thick white seed down your thighs, soaking into the couch beneath you.

“Tell her you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” It escapes his mouth easily enough, but his lips twitch in a faint grimace afterwards, as though the words leave a bad taste on his tongue. Yoongi fucks harder into you, before grunting and suddenly grasping your hips with both hands, one on either side. You can feel him twitching deep inside of you, but he doesn’t cum yet, just rocks upwards, curls absently against your back.

“How sorry?”

“So sorry.”

“Prove it. Show her. How fucking sorry you are.”

Hoseok’s eyes flit upwards, catching you in their endless chocolatey depths. You feel warmth, palms, curling over your thighs, holding you splayed in front of him with long hands. Maintaining eye contact, he leans forward, jaw inching open, tongue presenting itself, before he makes contact with your pussy, licking a long, hot stripe upwards. A low moan claws its way out of your chest, your hips thrusting forwards and halted by their hands, Yoongi’s on your waist, Hoseok’s pinning you to Yoongi, forcing you to take it as he starts to eat you in earnest. He slurps up Namjoon’s cum like he daren’t waste a drop of it, sucking it off your lips, sliding his tongue everywhere but your clit, rubbing through your folds, dipping like a man possessed into your cunt to retrieve as much of it as he can taste. You convulse with every flick, humming and whining, sweating, straining against their grip as Hoseok tilts his head, maneuvering this way and that, as though determined to lick up every trace of Namjoon from you.

“That’s it,” Yoongi growls thickly. “That’s it, just like that. Make her cum and I’ll let you inside her.”

The response is immediate. Hoseok forces your thighs apart even further, lips finding your clit easily and attaching with a decadent slurp so loud and so obnoxious your ears ring, holding you down as you shake and arch into him, moaning unintelligible pleas for mercy as he sucks you up like his last meal. Your body wracks, shivering, and you hardly even realize how near you are until you’re finally shoved off the precipice. You’re cumming, hard, scrabbling for purchase on Yoongi’s thighs, the couch beneath you, Hoseok’s fingers. The scream that tears itself from your throat is raw, over-extended and cuts out entirely at the end as pleasure races through your entire body, forcing you to convulse and shake.

Yoongi’s steady fountain of curses barely registers until you realize he’s begging just as painfully, as desperately as you are.

“Fuck, Hoseok,” he hiccups, “Fuck, hurry up, get—get in her, fuck, I can—I’m gonna—“

“Was that nice?” Hoseok preens as he pulls away. His mouth and chin are shining, glazed with your arousal. He licks absently at it, slipping the waistband of his sweatpants down teasingly, catching your eyes with a hazy, prideful smirk. “Was that good? You want Hobi to fuck you now, pretty girl? You forgive me yet, hm?”

“Stop fucking around,” Yoongi bites, hands dashing to your thighs from around your back. He opens your folds for you, presenting you even more prettily to the other vampire, who watches you twitch with satisfaction and desire. “Come fuck the communal whore.”

Hoseok’s cock is thinner than Namjoon’s, but it’s longer. When he lines up with your entrance, guided easily by Yoongi’s fingers, and presses in with one smooth motion, you release a deep exhale, head thrown back over Yoongi’s shoulder.

“There you go. There you fucking go.” He encourages in a mumble, hands raising, one to your neck to caress and fondle, the other to your hip, to steady as he and Hoseok start thrusting in tandem.

Hobi’s hips flow into you effortlessly, curling, stroking the inside of your cunt with precision that leaves you breathless. The difference between the fevered way Yoongi now rams unevenly into your ass, drawing thick breaths through clenched teeth, has you clenching around the both of them.

You feel something against your palm, and you turn to look, meeting Namjoon’s eyes. He watches you caught between his brothers, expression heavy. He wraps his fingers around yours, and you realize his other hand is curled around his own dick, stroking himself to the time of Yoongi’s thrusts. He leans his head back, staring at you past hooded eyelids, plush lips parted in quiet huffs as he twitches and releases again, small spurts up his chest, decorating his abdomen. The sight of him, shining with sweat and cum, pleasuring himself as you bounce, filled up and defiled, makes you cry out, wrapping one thigh around Hosoeok’s ass.

“Gonna fill up this pretty ass,” Yoongi hisses, “Gonna fill you up so good, fuck.”

“Good girl,” Hobi soothes through his grin, “Good, just like that, take it, yeah, take it.”

Yoongi’s pace becomes even more erratic, even more uneven, his voice giving way to high pitched mewls and low grunts, burying his cock inside you with a growl.

“N-Nam—“ he pants suddenly, arching, pressing his lower half to your back.

Namjoon sits up with a rush, hand disentangling from yours to reach upwards, just over your shoulder, and you can feel the force as Yoongi’s head is thrown backwards into the cushion of the sofa. His prick twitches and throbs, finally emptying himself into the cavern of your asshole, filling you with wet warmth. Hobi pushes forward one last, long drawn-out time, and cums inside your cunt with a huffed breath almost of surprise.

Behind you, you can hear Yoongi hissing, growling, whimpering. You can feel the struggle as he thrashes against Namjoon’s hold, his fingernails beginning to dig into your hips.

“You fucker,” he spits, seething. “I’m so fucking hungry, you son of a bitch. It’s your fucking fault, you fuck.”

“Shh, Yoongi,” Namjoon soothes, brows knitted together. “Shh, I know. I know.”

“Fuck you, Namjoon, let me drain her fucking dry. You’re such a cunt.”

Hoseok slides out of you, watching your pussy leaking fresh cum with absent satisfaction, brushing a thumb against a flushed lip to collect some of it. He leans up, smearing it across your mouth and you lean forward into him, sucking the digit into your mouth with an exhausted moan.

“Hobi, get her off him.” Namjoon says, sharp.

“Alright, alright. Come on, pretty girl,” Hoseok urges gently, wrapping his palms underneath your ass to help lift you upwards. You try to prop your legs up under yourself, but you’re so sore, so used up, they’re almost completely useless. Yoongi’s member leaves your ass with a plop, his release already beginning to ooze down your thigh. His hands are hesitant to leave your waist, but eventually trail off, obeying hushed encouragement from Namjoon. Hoseok pulls you to stand, into his still-clothed chest, propping you up on your feet and letting you lean against him.

“Can you stand?” he murmurs into your ear. You’re shaky, disoriented, clutching everything you can reach of him. You shake your head ‘no’, burying your face into him, inhaling the comforting scent. “Okay.”

He slowly moves to collect his pants from the ground, keeping your hands on his shoulders as he bends. When he straightens, he pulls the soft material up your legs, wiping at the thick liquid flowing freely from your abused holes. When you flinch away at a slightly rougher tug, he apologizes quietly under his breath, craning to press a weirdly sweet kiss to your cheek.

“I’m gonna take her to get cleaned up,” he says over your shoulder, rubbing comforting circles into your lower back.

“Good,” Namjoon replies, distracted. Briefly, you feel a hand at your calf, stroking upwards in a soothing kind of manner. As Hoseok turns, leading you down to the hall, you catch a glimpse of Namjoon sitting beside Yoongi on the couch. They’re embracing now, both glistening, both panting. Their eyes are closed, Namjoon’s peacefully if not for the worry that creases his brow, Yoongi’s screwed tightly shut.

“Didn’t mean it.” You catch Yoongi’s deep mumble, choked with emotion, as he buries his face in Namjoon’s shoulder.

“I know. I know. It’s okay.” Namjoon’s hand brushes up his back reassuringly, even for how it shakes. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

Hoseok leads you slowly to the bathroom, props you up in the shower. The space is too tight, too small, to comfortably fit both of you, but he gets down to business washing you clean with the kind of care you’d expect from someone who’s done it a million times before. He keeps you upright, sudsing you up, rinsing you down, keeping your hands on his shoulders, occasionally placing a steadying arm around your waist while he cleans the rest of you with lukewarm water. He hums while he works, some absent tune you don’t recognize.

“Namu seems to really like you,” he pipes up. “I saw that handholding jerkoff thing.” He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. “What a sap.”

You don’t have anything to respond with, so he continues.

“He’s not the type to like people easy, you know.” He sighs through his nose, craning to catch your eye with a nod to indicate how serious he’s being. “None of us are. I don’t know what Yoongi thinks…or if he does right now.”

He straightens to continue rinsing your hair, taking the utmost amount of care to avoid getting soap in your eyes. It feels nice. Warm.

“But if Namjoon likes you…I guess we’re going to have to take better care of you.”

There’s a pause.

“I am sorry.” He says finally. He sounds sincere. “For the tit job.”

Now you look up at him, too tired to really say or think much, but hoping he gets the expression you mean to send him. He grins, wide, and boops your nose with the loofah with a giggle.

“It was really hot, though.” He adds, in a mock-defensive pout. “Really hot. I jacked off earlier today just thinking about it, you know. Shit, maybe I’m falling for you.”

That makes him laugh, his signature cackle bouncing off the tiles of the bathroom.

Previous Masterlist Next

#moth to flame #bts x reader #bts smut #bts vampire au #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #do you see now #do you understand #why it took me so long #none of this was originally in it ok #(hey anon i hope this soothes our relationship. <3 u #sorry again)#FUCK yoongis fuckin MOUTH in this one #i dont know WHO i was CHANNELING #hand to god it only gets worse i just kEEP GETTING W O R S E #am i retconning hoseok being an asshole #eeeeeeyup lmao do what i wanna shrug #oh oh did you get my reference #w the other vampires #eeyyyyyy im not gonna put them in the tags cos its such a small bit part but eeeeeYYY #i dont actually listen to anyone but BTS im sorry i just wanted smone else to exist in this world that WASNT them ok #ive heard some of their stuff just havnt like #idk i dont follow anyone #i was incredibly into super junior when i started listening to kpop but thats cos i used it to write other smut :)#cos i couldn't understand korean #hey how you doing this is a lot of tags huh #well its been a long day alright #its been a day #ive been writing this chapter for so long i just wanna write my FEELINGS now

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feferipeixes · 4 years

Note

Even though their parents have made it clear that they will not be going back to gravity falls, Mabel makes deals with Dipper to tesser them there whenever their parents aren't around. This leads to a lot of midnight visits that can last until 4 or 5 am, since Stan's sleep schedule hasn't recovered from thirty years spending most of the night in a basement and their parents usually fall asleep around 11

At one end of the hall, a door clicked shut. At the other, a door quietly glided open, and a 13-year old girl’s head peeked out.

“Okay Dippler Effect, Mom and Dad went to sleep!” Mabel hissed excitedly. “Let’s ride!”

“That’s a new one,” Dipper replied in a whisper. The idea of sneaking out in the middle of the night still gave him anxiety, even though he’d done it a million times, even though no one but Mabel could hear him, even though the concept of him getting caught and punished was long dead. “Do you even know what the Doppler Effect is?”

“Sure do! It’s that thing when, like, if someone’s standing in one place listening to you, the sound of your brother’s protests get whinier as he blips away with you to go hang out with your friends!”

Dipper snorted into his hand. “Okay, that was pretty good.” He grabbed his sister’s hand. “Ready?”

Mabel put on a serious face, gripped her Dream Boy High backpack, and nodded. “Ready!”

There was a quick jerk as the air twisted around them – flashing colors filling Mabel’s vision and an awful nausea filling her stomach – and then it stopped. Mabel’s bedroom in Piedmont was gone, replaced by the kitchen of the Mystery Shack, complete with the sounds of a romcom floating in from the TV in the other room, a few empty cans of Pitt Cola sitting on the counter, and a sleeping Grunkle Stan slumped over the table.

Dipper floated over to his Grunkle and poked him in the head. His finger, unsurprisingly, went right through. “I thought he said he’d be awake,” he said, pouting. “Should I visit him in his dream and tell him to wake up, or -”

Mabel clapped giddily – cutting her brother off – threw her backpack to the ground, and unleashed the glee that had been building up within her since they’d planned this trip a couple of days earlier. She screamed at the top of her lungs, causing Dipper to clap his hands over his ears and recoil (which resulted in him clipping halfway through the refrigerator).

Stan jolted upright in his seat. “SOOS, THE COPS ARE HERE, HIDE THE VIOLINS!” he shouted. He blinked sleepily a few times, and then his eyes settled on Mabel bouncing up and down in front of him with a face-splitting smile on her face. “Oh, it’s just you kids. Geez, you’re gonna scare me into an early pension doing that.”

Mabel jumped at her Grunkle and hugged him tight. “Well, someone said he’d be awake at 11 so we could come by right after our parents went to sleep! Did someone forget it was our -”

There was the pounding of boots on stairs, and the door burst open to reveal Ford in a lab coat with ash on his face and in his hair. “Stanley! I heard screaming, what’s going on? Did the man-eating toaster come back? You swore you’d let me be the one to kill it if it did!”

“Calm down poindexter,” Stan started, “it’s just -“

“GREAT UNCLE FORD!” Mabel screeched, peeling herself off of Stan and running over to hug him instead. “You made it! I thought you were still having an awesome boat adventure!”

Ford flinched, but then ruffled Mabel’s hair. “Of course I made it, Mabel. Wouldn’t miss it.” A tuft of his hair spontaneously caught on fire, and he patted it out. “You’ll have to excuse me, I brought some of my research home with me. I must warn you, I may be slightly radioactive right now, so… watch out for that.”

“Haha, YES!” Mabel pumped her fist. “Soon I’ll have magic glitter dandruff!”

“Ask him about the boat trip, ask him about the boat trip!” Dipper whispered in Mabel’s ear. She waved him off.

“So nice of you to show up,” Stan said, getting up and punching his brother on the shoulder. “Did you finish cleaning all of your science crap out of the parlor?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Ford countered, and then paused. “Mostly. Almost. There’s too many people in there right now anyway. But hold on – I only see Mabel. Where’s my former apprentice?”

“MABEL HE’S TALKING ABOUT ME,” Dipper hissed. “Tell him I want to know about his trip and the sea monsters and the cursed gold doubloons he’s hiding from Stan and -”

“Dipper’s right here!” Mabel chirped. “He’s just invisible right now! Speaking of, Grunkle Stan, did you get a sacrifice for him?”

“You know I did, sweetie.” Stan picked up his eight-ball cane and gestured down the hall. “But today’s an important day. He’s not getting none of that rodent’s blood hootenanny we usually get him. We got something special.”

Mabel started hopping up and down so violently that the walls shook and everyone had to cover their ears. “What does that mean!!!!!!!!”

Stan hoisted Mabel up onto his shoulders. “How about you come and look for yourself before you blow the whole house down?”

Mabel cackled. “Onwards, Stan-oshima!”

Dipper eyed his sister jealously, and then floated over to Ford and pretended to sit on his shoulders. He and Mabel stuck their tongues out at each other playfully, forgetting to pay attention to where they were being carried, until -

“SURPRISE!”

Dipper and Mabel both flinched at the chorus of voices, and Mabel almost toppled off of Stan’s shoulders. It was a moment before they could take in the sight in front of them, but by then, Stan had placed Mabel on the floor and people were already coming up to her and hugging her.

“Dude, so good to see you!” Wendy said. “Where’s your bro at?”

Soos pushed up next to Wendy. “Mabel! You made it! Is Dipper here too?”

“Hey, it’s my turn to talk to her,” Pacifica drawled. “You’re lucky I’m even here – my parents would never allow it. Good thing they’re in Venice right now. Why can’t I see Dipper?”

Mabel screamed in joy again. “I can’t believe it, all of our friends are here! Wendy and Soos and Pacifica and Candy and Grenda and Robbie and Thompson and that weird guy who likes America! You all made it! And bro-bro’s right here,” she added, grabbing her incorporeal brother and squeezing him close. “We just haven’t summoned him yet!”

“Sixer. That’s our cue,” Stan said from behind them.

Dipper and Mabel turned around to see Stan and Ford each holding a cake with the number “14″ written in the center. Stan placed his cake on the table, while Ford carried his over to an empty space of the floor where a summoning circle had been drawn out. He placed the cake in the middle, and pulled out a vial of blue liquid from his lab coat. He uncorked it, dropped the liquid into the circle, and then paused.

“Uhh, remind me what the incantation is?” he asked.

“It’s stella splendidum, te invoco -” Dipper started.

Mabel cut him off by grabbing his sides, effortlessly lifting him up, and throwing him at the circle. He squealed in surprise, his little wings flapping frantically as he toppled through the air. He came to a stop a few feet above the circle, at which point Mabel shouted, “COME ON OUT, DIPDOPS!”

Another yelp, and Dipper was yanked out of the Mindscape and into the real world. The cake they sacrificed to him disappeared, replaced by a very nervous looking demon. Even though Dipper trusted his friends in Gravity Falls to be more supportive than his parents, it had been a long time since he’d seen some of these people, and, well, things sure had changed even since the Transcendence. He felt every eye in the room fall on him, examining his fancy attire, his sharp teeth, his pointed ears and gold-on-black eyes.

And then they began to cheer.

“Good to see you little man!” Old Man McGucket yodeled.

The Multibear growled softly. “Such a lovely gathering now that you’re here.”

“The Mystery Twins are back!” Candy joined in.

An incredible sense of relief washed over Dipper. Mabel pushed her way through her friends and pulled him into a tight hug again.

“Can you believe it, bro-bro?” she said, giggling as the rest of the crowd rushed in to join her. “Everyone made it!”

“Yeah, this is incredible!” Dipper wiped a golden tear away from his eye. “Everyone’s still here. Everything’s still okay.”

“Hope you like it, kiddos,” Stan said, ruffling his hair just as Ford did Mabel’s. “Happy birthday.”

The twins grinned. The remaining cake was passed through the crowd until it was resting in front of them.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” Grenda shouted.

Dipper laughed. “I don’t know about you, Mabes, but I’ve already got my wish.”

“Me too, bro-bro,” Mabel replied. “Although I wouldn’t say no to backstage passes to the Boyz 4 Now concert, or maybe a jetpack, or…”

“Just blow out the candles, dummy,” he retorted.

The crowd of their friends and family started chanting “Blow! Out! The candles! Blow! Out! The candles!” The birthday twins nodded and grabbed each other’s hands. They both drew in a large breath. They blew as hard as they could.

Applause rippled through the room, and Mabel and Dipper were happy.

—

At 5am, there was a soft blip, and two teenagers appeared in a bedroom in Piedmont, California. A newly 14-year old girl’s head peeked out the door, looked toward the other end of the hall, and then pulled back into the room.

“Looks like we got away with it, bro-bro!” Mabel whispered. “That was the best sneak out to Gravity Falls to date!”

“It sure was,” he replied, and a warbling note of gratitude filled his voice. “It sure was.”

(AO3 link)

#gravity falls #transcendence au #dipper pines #alcor the dreambender #mabel pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #fic #fluff #long post #my stuff #asks #anonymous #i went a little off script from this prompt but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

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paperdoe · 4 years

Text

Char facts

Stolen from deviantart

1) What's their FULL NAME (First, middle(s), last)

Ehhh elves go by father, mother, and espesse (given name)

So in that order. Halordin Telphindor Daerhovan (He mainly goes by his espesse)

2) Do they have siblings? if so what are their names/ages

4. Haldor is 1800, Heledirnien (N/A) and the twins Losseneth and Lossenduin are both 1200.

3) What were they like in their elementary, middle and high school phases?

.Seeing as those terms don’t exist in Middle Earth, i’ll break it down by age.

1-200

Extremely sheltered and curious. Drove his mother and mentors insane with how many times he’d try to get to Forbidden Places. Wanted to know how everything worked and why and then how why those things worked functioned the way they did. Hyper focused on the natural world, natural history, and the history of his and other free peoples. Read voraciously when he wasn’t trying to sneak away.

200-700

Young and inexperienced in the works of his calling. Often rash when it comes to making difficult or time sensitive decisions. In isolation for most of his early centuries in his desire for knowledge. Sought to learn more of the world and traveled far and wide. Developed deeper relationships with people more than animals as his business lead him out of isolation. His resolve to save what he loved strengthened from nearly world ending events.

700-8,000

Preserves his love for his interests throughout his lifetime. Very diligent in his duties as a naturalist until the later years of his life when he becomes deeply depressed from the loss of everyone he’s ever loved or befriended and the changes to the world. Gets a little better near the end, but finally feels that it’s time to move on, and fades into the west.

4) What is their hometown?

Caras-Galadhon. better known as Lothlorien.

5) Did they go to college? If so what for? and did they graduate?

While I love the idea of universities in Middle Earth, Daerhovan was mentored by various independent teachers throughout his early life. Most notably Orthir of Lothlorien, Arasdir (brother in law who taught him much about botany) and Radagast the Brown.

6) Are they married, single, in a relationship, or crushing on someone who has no idea?

Daerhovan gets married to a dwarrowdam, Badari of Erebor during his lifetime. Before then sheer curiosity of romance led him to dalliance with two others. A widow from Rohan and another elven man he grew up with. (Though it never really escalated to sex with the latter two.)

7) Don't be shy tell us their name~

I DONE DID

8) How do they get along with that person?

Rather well I imagine since they spend the rest of Badari’s life together. Perhaps there was a bit of intimidation on Daerhovan’s side at first as he wasn’t used to dealing with people with a fiery demeanor. Never mind dwarves in general.

9) What's your favorite canon moment that's happened and no one else knows about?

During one of his early attempts at trying to understand the natural world, tried calming down a maddened huorn. The huorn lashed a root at him in it’s rage and sliced him from pectoral to navel, leaving behind a ghastly scar that took centuries to completely heal. he was saved by Radagast the Brown before he could bleed out. He doesn’t talk about the incident out of sheer embarrassment. But it did teach him a hard lesson about the reach and influence of evil in nature. And being with Radagast during his healing taught him most of what he knows later in life.

10) Do they have kids? Do they want kids?

.Badari and he don’t have kids and to be honest I don’t think Daerhovan would want any. They tend to make him nervous and unsure, and whatever paternal instincts he has are for baby animals. He doesn’t mind baby-sitting for close friends and family most of the time though.

11) What do they currently do?

.Oof currently? I’m gonna take currently as in the current timeline of Lord of the Rings Online (Where he was first born as an OC) Which is some months after Sauron’s defeat (Or is it weeks? lol)

What i’ve described earlier really. He’s a herbalist, naturalist, forest warden, and anthropologist. And anything that’s related. (And Gandalf’s errand boy apparently)

12) Do they have a job outside of that?

What was listed above is his lifestyle really. I’ll say that before then in his teenage years he was a grape vine tender and assistant scholar of the trees of Lothlorien.

13) How do they entertain themselves?

Reviewing past notes, reading. horse/elk back riding. Swimming. Likes to have his hands occupied.

14) What's their biggest fear?

Losing those he loves, drastic change, places he holds in his heart becoming lost to time or by machine, losing his will to live.

15) How do other people see them? does this affect them or do they brush it off?

Depends. Within his own kind among the Galladhrim he’s viewed as a novelty and trouble maker because of his circumstances (The way his father and brother were killed, his mothers extreme efforts to keep him safe which lead to his wild escapeds, made for some hot gossip) He didn’t like the attention on him and his family, and this was probably a catalyst that lead to him becoming enamored with places beyond The Golden Wood. If only to get away for a bit.

With other races they’d probably be a bit put off by his lack of social skills and tendency to info dump. This hurts a little, but trees are great listeners at least.

16) Do they have exes? if so what's their name, what happened </3

Can’t really be called an ex if they weren’t official in the first place?

17) Do they have a strong relationship with their parents?

More like a tenuous unconditional love if that can make sense. he never knew his father that well. And his mothers extreme efforts to shelter him made him somewhat embittered.

18) how often do they see them?

Once or twice a year when she still dwelled in Middle Earth. And then not for a very, very long time until after he faded and was reborn in Valinor.

19) Why did they not go to bed until 4 am??

.What is sleep to an elf.

20) Can they do tricks??

He’s acrobatic?

21) Are they pretty much the same through the stages (toddler-adult) or have they gotten more mature? less mature? etc.

I like the thought of him retaining his playfulness and childlike curiosity throughout most of his life.

22) Do they have a phobia?

Being deep below the ground and the nameless things that gnaw at the earth. Moria was fine but perhaps the catalyst to the fear that would grow overtime as the dwarves and nameless would clash more often.

23) What's their favorite animal

Lynxes and forest elk.

24) What's in their fridge. you heard me.

No fridge here! He’ll eat nice smelling flowers occasionally. Roses are his favorite....and he wonders why people look at him strangely. Normal people food wise, he’d have berries. So many berries.

25) Give us a secret~

He can’t hear or feel the pull of Valinor from the cries of the gulls or the sea.

26) How would they react to a random confession text from their crush? :eyes:

Bear with me and pretend phones exist for him for the moment. Furious blushing, finger twiddling, curling up in fetal position.

27) What do they fear losing the most?

I mentioned it above alreadyyyy

28) What was their worst injury as of now?

ALSO MENTIONED

29) Which of their parents do you think they take after more, in looks, personality or both

His mother Gaelwen. inherited her silverish hair (She’s a descendant from prominent Sindar from lost Belariand) and paler skin.

re on their deathbed who would they want by their side? (Can have 3 and only 3!)

Badari, Mallovorel (best elven friend and like a sister) and Losseneth (His fav bio sister)

anyone else who wants to do this feel free. just say i tagged you ;)

#oc meme #daerhovan #anyone else who feels like doing this feel free! just say i tagged you ;)

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soaringsearingphoenix · 4 years

Note

Valentine's Day Asks: The Prime Numbers

Wow! I dont know why i didnt see the notification for this one but ok, alright ah

1. do you have a crush on anyone?

I guess so? There are people who Stand Out to me and i call them crushes in my head sometimes but mostly I just want to be friends with them. Like I dont usually get dizzying sweeps of emotion for someone, physical or romantic, but I do get an urgent and baseless desire to hang out with them... maybe take a walk or invite them to get ice cream. So like if we’re on the same page about what I call a Crush on my emotional scale then yes. Theres a couple people.

2. what’s your favorite candy?

I like lemonheads and i will eat them until im sick of them if given half a chance. I also like snickers now because theres peanuts in it so i get to pretend im making a healthy choice

3. favorite love song?

Slow Boat To China, any version but specifically sung by Bette Midler and Barry Manilow. You know, like, just the corniest possible version? Partly for nostalgia, because it was one of like three CDs i remember my mom playing all the time when we were just kind of around the house when I was little. It also has the distinction of being the first duet I learned the words to (though as far as im aware none of my friends know the lyrics... i dont think ive ever actually sung it with someone) and it’s probably gotta be the one that gets stuck in my head the most. Right down to the dumb banter in the middle (“Bette, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” “I don’t. I need a piano player.”)

I also like “Somewhere Beyond The Sea.” I think, as a general rule, that if there are boats in the words to a love song I will probably like it.

5. what was your last kiss like?

Meaningful

7. do you prefer poems or love letters?

Ahhhhhhhhhh to read or to write? I like writing poems because I think they’re... easier honestly? Writing is so hard, identifying your feelings is hard. Having some constraints makes writing easier, and a rhyme and cadence makes it flow. Besides, it’s more musical that way so I think for me it feels like a more natural expression of love. I do well with more structured expression, and not so much with making just raw, unrefined feelings known.

Not to say writing poetry is easy. It’s less difficult than a love letter, sure, but there are still potential pitfalls. If i make a metaphor that makes me think of science, the rest of the poem WILL be just an extension of the metaphor that gets more and more didactic until I’m just telling you science facts.

11. dinner dates or brunch dates?

Dinner dates. I decided that before i came up with a reason why. I think the reason is that an evening engagement means I have something to look forward to, or be nervous about but then i have time to mentally prepare myself. Whereas morning, even if it’s not “early” morning, I feel more stressed about getting there on time and then afterwards theres a whole rest of the day where i either have to get somewhere after, or its just this unstructured uncertainty. Dinner, youve already done the rest of the day, so you can be present without worrying about what you gotta get to after.

13. favorite perfume/cologne?

I... dont know that ive ever noticed a perfume or cologne and felt it was applied tastefully, because i think if it is insubtle it defeats the point. That said, if it’s actually well applied so that it’s less an overwhelming cloud that trails comically behind people you pass in the quad and more like when someone sits down right next to you om the couch and you get just a hint of their shampoo or conditioner, to the point where maybe you didnt even consciously notice it before but now you say “oh, you’re the reason ive been craving ice cream, you smell minty” if it was only that subtle then i think im generally fond of more smoky incense-y smells like sandalwood, or roses but i am picky about rose fragrances, so it has to actually smell just like fresh roses or i wont be able to overlook that the smell is not roses. I have this friend who went to my middle school, and we were very into scents and making potpourri and things. At the time, his grandma had a hand soap that smelled exactly like roses, it was delightful and he said as much and I said that it sounded amazing but I’d have to take his word for it, but then the next time he visited her he came back with a little jar of it for me just so i could smell it, and he was right, it smelled just like roses. Actually forget the roses, it will make me think of the hand soap and as lovely as that is I dont want to give anyone vying for my affection any reason to feel like they’re in competition with someone, or something. It’s not a competition. Learn to coexist with my memories, because you’re not going to fight my nostalgia and win.

17. what’s the most attractive thing a person could wear?

If you’re wearing something knit or embroidered that you made yourself Im definitely gonna want to talk to you. Also if you’re wearing really comfy looking cargo pants but thats probably because i want to know where you got them so i can get some for me.

19. snow, rain, or sun?

Sun because people will take a walk with me

23. what’s your dream wedding like?

Dont have one but if i did its in a forest or at least a grove of trees. Mostly small gathering, family and close friends. I have a dress for the vows i guess, just because ive seen a lot of Say Yes to the Dress so thats how ive generally pictured it, (which i only really do when im watching Say Yes to the Dress), but ive got comfortable shoes, and im gonna change into pants asap after. We probably do some corny thing thats kind of an inside joke. Each of us has a Best Man or equivalent, who carries a sword — we joke that this makes it a “traditional” wedding, though beyond that it’s really not meant to be. It’s mostly simple, though maybe have a little extravagance or two, like a chocolate fountain, because how often do you have an excuse to have a chocolate fountain. I tend to wander off from other peoples weddings somewhere in the middle, at some point i just get a little overstimulated, and the amount of people that will likely be invited makes this probable. At the reception, when the families and friends are singing and dancing, i probably quietly excuse myself to my spouse and drift away, finding a spot in a tree where i can still hear the music and the laughter from a distance. I am joined not long after by my spouse (and the thought is strange, and even then i cant quite wrap my mind around that word yet, the commitment it implies) who knows where to look for me, and who perhaps pulls a leaf or two from my hair as they join me on an adjacent branch. We sit quietly together for some time until it seems appropriate to rejoin the festivities, as it is our wedding after all, and the slow dance is coming up, and we will spend some quiet time later when everyone has gone home. It is nice, the dancing, and as tired as we are we still drift around the dance floor among loved ones long into the night.

I dont know if this is like... how i intend my wedding to be. Like i said i didnt have an answer going in. But now that im trying to imagine it, this feels realistic.

29. are you single?

Yup!

31. guitar or piano?

Piano. First of all because i am better at piano than guitar and second because you can do duets on one piano

37. do you like to dance?

Aw hell yeah!! I would call myself an... Inexperienced dancer, but if a song has a good rhythm or even if it doesnt and i am full of energy i WILL be moving and twisting and you ARE welcome to join me

41. favorite soda?

I usually go for lighter ones like orange or sprite. I found Lime fanta at a gas station once that tasted like green jello and it was good but ive only seen it maybe twice ever.

43. favorite ABBA song?

Gimme Gimme Gimme always gets me on my feet, and ive listened to it probably the most because it’s on my “Dates and Times Playlist” (the first line says ‘half past 12’ and then the chorus says ‘after midnight’ so its in with a collection of other midnight songs. Any time i hear any of the others i get this one in my head as well. Thatd just how it is.)

47. do you think about love a lot?

#just kidding of course i think about love a lot #but usually its how much i love my friends #apparently my love language is s c r o l l i n g to find old ask memes #long post #long post cw #thanks tho!!! this was fun #as far as my poetry goes #itll be like ‘my darling you light up ny world... like the sun’#and then its like ‘my world revolves around u like the earth to the sun’#and then its like ‘i love u for ur warmth... u make me feel alive... of every body around me its u i feel closest to... like the sun’#and then its like ‘ur light is radiant... hotter than a flame... ‘ something about not being eclipsed because youll still shine through #and at that point im just straight up talking about the sun #i cant find The poem im thinking about that just straight up turns into a list of traits the sun has like four lines in #but i did write a song that i definitely have the lyrics to #and the song is good because i didnt try to write it about a person i went in knowing it was gonna sound like a love song n be about science #actually i mightve wanted to write a love song but i abandoned that right away and changed the beginning i had to fit what i was rly writing

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lovelylogans · 4 years

Text

odds are

LORELAI: Oh, come on. This will be fun. LUKE: No way, not happening. LORELAI: But this is our first Halloween together as a full-blown, committed, soon-to-be-married couple. We need to start our own traditions. LUKE: Tell you what. I'll build you the chair, help with the test tubes, and then I'm done. LORELAI: But you would be so scary with smoke coming out of your nose. I really want to see that. LUKE: Well, we're gonna be together the rest of our lives, so odds are you will.

-gilmore girls, twenty-one is the loneliest number

part of the wyliwf verse | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: dogs, costumes, bittersweet nostalgia, homesickness, loneliness mentions, deceit

pairings: moxiety, logince

words: 4,748

notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! we’ve hit the last prompt for 13 days of halloween prompts over at @sanderssidescelebrations! today’s prompt is costume party! this takes place about two years later after the events of cohabit and about nine months after the events of cocoa—so it’s logan and roman’s freshman year of college and don’t worry the whole Relationship Development and like, Other Developments that get dropped pretty soon in the story will be subject to a oneshot(s) or potentially multichap sideshire files, don’t worry boo i gotchu you can find the various foods mentioned throughout the story here.

seven days

patton has been well aware that halloween is virgil’s favorite holiday. it’s not even their first halloween since they’ve been together or lived together—but virgil’s really stepping it up this year.

“pat.”

patton makes a grumbling kind of noise—patton’s close to drifting off to sleep, which virgil knows, and virgil also knows not to really expect a lot of conversation from patton when he’s near sleep, either waking up or falling asleep—and squints. the only light on in the room is virgil’s phone.

“pat, we forgot to get a costume for cocoa,” virgil says.

patton mumbles something that’s supposed to be “we have a week,” but it comes out garbled. somehow, virgil understands it—it’s probably the almost-nineteen years of knowing him.

“i don’t even have an idea,” virgil says.

“can we figure this out in the morning?” patton mumbles.

“it’s cocoa’s first halloween.”

“cocoa doesn’t seem to care much right now.”

cocoa is, indeed, flopped out at their feet, snoozing happily away. patton’s kind of jealous.

“but—i don’t have an idea,” virgil says, and patton sighs, adjusting as much as he can without kicking their dog, and ends up flopping most of his body on top of virgil’s torso, pillowing his head on virgil’s shoulder. this also, conveniently, brings virgil’s phone out of his sight.

“sleep now.”

“patton—“

“sleep now,” he repeats in a kind of growl.

there’s a hesitation. then, the light clicks off, and there’s the sound of virgil’s phone being settled on his bedside table. patton almost smiles, and readjusts, getting comfy.

“...so, like, do you think we should dress her more cute or more scary?” virgil asks tentatively.

patton lets out a huff that’s the closest thing to a snort he can get, when he’s this close to dropping off. “definitely cute,” he mumbles.

“okay,” virgil says. there’s another long pause, and patton’s about to slip off into sleep, before—

“is it too on-the-nose if we dress her up like a cup of cocoa?”

“darling,” patton says, “i love you, and i will super definitely listen to your rambling as you try to narrow down your costume ideas, because that is what fiancés slash almost-husbands should do, but if you do not let me get to sleep there might just be a halloween-themed murder.”

there’s a pause.

“so no to the cup of cocoa idea, then,” virgil says, and patton laughs, pressing a kiss to virgil’s shoulder before he nuzzles against his chest.

“so if we’re thinking cute, then we’ve got a lot of options since she’s pretty ambiguous about clothes, she likes the jacket we put on her when it’s cold out, so that’s not a limit,” virgil muses, and patton falls asleep to the gentle lull of his voice as he talks about dog costume ideas.

...

six days

logan really shouldn’t still be doing this, by now. he’s been at college for nearly three months, now. it only took twenty-one days to form a habit, and it seemed the twenty-one days had snuck up on him, and now—

“hi, dad.”

“hey, kiddo,” his dad says, and logan leans against the wall of his lecture hall, closing his eyes tight. “how’s your day going so far?”

“mostly good,” logan fibs. “i just got done with my history course, so i’m done with classes for the week.”

his dad makes a sound of celebration, and logan smiles, just a little, avoiding the gazes of the anonymous sea of people flooding forth from the lecture hall.

“but i’m going to the library soon,” logan adds, and his dad lets out a familiar sigh.

“well, as long as you’re not overworking yourself,” his dad says.

logan hums, because if he says something about how he’s going to be plotting out an essay that’s due right before thanksgiving break his dad will tell him to take a break and that he can take a weekend to relax, but he absolutely cannot do that. instead, he says, “what plans do you have for the weekend?”

“oh, not much, really,” patton says. “hang around the diner, take cocoa for some really long walks before it gets too cold, try to talk virgil out of turning the front yard into a graveyard for the trick-or-treaters, you know, the usual.”

“trying to talk virgil out of what,” logan says.

“halloween,” patton says, by way of explanation, and logan makes a noise of understanding.

it’s virgil’s absolute favorite holiday—logan remembers thinking, as a kid, that whenever virgil started getting excited about halloween, it meant his birthday was coming soon—and logan attempts to forcefully quell what absolutely was not disappointment at his first halloween approach away from sideshire. the setup’s half the fun.

“you still don’t know what you’re dressing up as?”

“nope,” his dad says cheerfully. “he insists that all of it’s gonna be a surprise, so—”

“you don’t even have the slightest idea?” logan pushes.

“well, i’m no you,” his dad points out, and laughs when logan sighs.

“are you doing anything fun, this weekend?” his dad asks, and logan ignores the little squirming guilty feeling in his stomach, the same way he always feels when his dad asks the question, and when he answers.

“i think i might go out to dinner with some people on my dorm floor,” logan says vaguely, thinking of the meal that he’ll pack away from the dining hall and eat alone in his room, “or see a movie,” he’ll be making flashcards and quizzing himself over and over and over again, “we haven’t decided yet.”

“oh, that’s great!” his dad says, sounding pleased. “let me know if you see a movie, if it’s good or not, yeah?”

“yeah,” logan says, making a mental note to look up movie reviews in case his dad asks, in their call tomorrow. “how’s work been?”

he leans against the wall, listening to his dad prattle cheerfully on, and he sinks further and further back into the shadows, relishing the autumn chill, the news of home, and the slightest balm that his dad’s voice offers against the gnawing presence of homesickness and loneliness that’s been in his chest since he was left alone in his dorm room for the first time.

...

five days

“hello?”

“hey! hey hey hey hey hey hey. hey.”

“hello. are you drunk?”

“i’m at a halloween party, and i’ve had a couple drinks.”

“mhm.”

“not many! just a couple.”

“of course.”

“a man drunk-dials you one time...”

“it’s been three times, but i’ll allow a pass, since your memory recall is clearly impaired.”

“were you sleeping?”

“no, just reading.”

“s’late. you should be sleeping.”

“roman, why would you have called if you thought i was sleeping?”

“get your logic out of here, i love you and i wanted to check in.”

“ah, okay. have you hit—what was the phrase?”

“...i might be in rambly drunk territory.”

“what a shock.”

“hey.”

“it’s true!”

“seriously, though, what are you doing up? usually you’re all about the whole... getting eight hours of sleep thing. or at least you always tell me to get eight hours of sleep.”

“i have an essay—“

“it’s the weekend.”

“that does not change the fact i have an essay, roman. in fact, it indicates the nearness of the due date. besides, i’m working ahead so i can better focus when we’re both home next week—”

“ugh, fine, fine. i’m sure i’ll remember this when i can more coherently bring a point together to tell you why taking at least one day off a week is better for your mental health and general productivity, but—“

“roman, was there a point to this call?”

“i love you and i wanted to hear your voice.”

“...you’re pouting.”

“am not.”

“are too.”

“am not!”

“are too.”

“am—“

“i’m cutting it off now, or we’ll keep going in circles until the sun rises.”

“fiiiiiine.”

“....are too.”

“hey!”

...

four days

"okay,” virgil says, checking the list that he’s taken off the wall as patton pushes the cart behind him, with the squeak-squeak-squeak of a wheel that needs to be oiled.

usually, when he and patton go grocery shopping, they go to taylor doose’s shop in town, but since they need to get decorations and bags of candy and a ton of other stuff, they’ve driven a little closer to the city so they can go to a bigger grocery store that’s got everything they’ll need.

squeak-squeak-squeak, and virgil glances up at the listings hanging from the ceiling.

“so this is food, and i guess over there might be decorations?”

“mhm,” patton says, squeak-squeak-squeak.

“we’ve gotten candy,” patton had snuck at least three extra bags into the cart and virgil pretended not to see, “we’ve gotten streamers, we got banners, i was thinking about getting some spare fabric in case my idea for cocoa’s costume doesn’t pan out and i have to go to my back-up plan, and we still need to get—”

the squeaking’s stopped. virgil turns back, curious, and sees patton stopped in his path and staring at—

oh.

virgil plods back a few steps, so he’s hovering near patton’s shoulder. patton doesn’t seem to notice, though, as he’s staring at the racks of superhero costumes—from onesies for babies to about the size logan was, when he was seven or so.

“sweetheart,” virgil says, soft and gentle, and patton jumps just a little.

“sorry!” he says, and shakes himself, reaching out a finger as if to brush it against a baby onesie, but thinking better of it, hand curling back toward him. “sorry, sorry, just—i wondered if...”

“yeah?” virgil asks.

“i was just thinking about,” patton says, and swallows. “logan, y’know. when he was this tiny.”

virgil had figured. over the past few months, he’s found patton lost in thought and staring at any number of things—the jam shelf in doose’s grocery, whenever he sees rudy out and about in town, the telescope logan had gotten for his sixteenth birthday that he’d had to reluctantly leave behind since there wouldn’t be enough space for it in his dorm room, any time he passes the press—and it’s just...

it twists at virgil’s heart, every time it happens, a bittersweetness that surges unexpectedly to the surface for him, too—making jam tarts three times a week is an exercise in making sure he doesn’t cry at work, which feels stupid, they’re just tarts, but every time he rolls out dough he thinks of all the times logan had helped him with it, the smiles he’d get whenever virgil snuck him one, and it—

it’s just. hard. kids grow up, and that’s natural, and good, but...

but, well. it didn’t stop the nostalgia.

“do you think he would have been a big superhero fan?” he asks, soft. “if they were as big a market then as they are now.”

patton swallows, leans his head against virgil’s shoulder, just for a moment. “the science ones,” he says softly. “he’d like—he’d like the science ones.”

virgil smiles a little, feeling that familiar lump in his throat. “the reporters, too. he’d have the alliteration thing going, too—lois lane logan. and roman would be superman.”

patton lets out a laugh that’s really closer to a sob, and virgil wants to wrap him up in a long, lingering hug, virgil’s general shyness about public displays of affection be damned, but before he can do that, patton turns. he’s smiling at virgil, just a little, but it’s fake around the edges.

“sorry,” patton says, and swallows. virgil nudges him, just a little.

“he’ll be home soon,” virgil reminds him, soft and quiet.

“i know,” patton murmurs, and a slightly rueful smile twists his lips. “i know, i know. it’s just—”

“i know,” virgil murmurs, and allows himself to lean over and press a chaste kiss to patton’s cheek. “it’s okay to miss him.”

it’s been a common refrain.

“i know.”

that’s been common, too.

“i miss him too,” virgil admits, quiet, and patton squeezes tightly at his wrist, before he takes a deep breath and forcefully turns away from anything resembling a baby clothes section.

“okay,” patton says, and maybe he’s forcing himself to sound a bit brighter and perkier than usual. “what else do we need to get?”

virgil lets it slide, and if he maybe hangs back so that he can hold patton’s hand as they walk through the store—well, patton’s clinging to him tightly enough that it’s clear that he needs it, too.

...

three days

"i’d had no idea you were so fascinated by halloween,” logan comments, from where he’s holding up the banner as dee affixes the other side.

“you think my spooky bitch aesthetic wouldn’t be all over this?” dee says, voice studiously bland.

“well, you were never ‘all over it’ at chilton.”

“you wore those uniforms for three years,” dee says pointedly. “and you know how strict they were with dress code.”

“true,” logan acknowledges, and steps back when dee comes to attach the other edge of the CREEPIN IT REAL banner to the wall. “are you sure you don’t want to come to sideshire?”

“i’d have to visit my parents,” dee says, with an eye-roll. “i have an invite to get wine-drunk with some poetry majors—“

“i thought it was whiskey-drunk with pre-meds?”

“—so i’m afraid i’m booked, and cannot upstage your little boy-toy with my clearly superior costume.”

“it’s roman,” logan says. “you know it’s roman. you got drunk and spilled a lot of your life story with roman, even if it directly conflicts with the varying life stories you’ve told me. you can no longer pretend that you are not on a first-name basis with him.”

“of course, sanders,” dee says, and logan rolls his eyes, before he draws his hand back from the pile of decor.

“um,” he says, and then winces, because dee can detect any sense of uncertainty in anyone’s tone, like a shark smelling blood.

“what?” dee says, glancing at him.

“would you,” logan says, and his mouth twists, since he knows he can’t pass this off as anything but sentimental. “would you be willing to keep the fake spider webbing to your room?”

dee narrows his eyes at him. “you’re not afraid of spiders.”

“no,” logan agrees, and hands it over, conscientious of the lack of spider webbing in his halloweens all his life—because his dad’s afraid of spiders, and virgil has always catered to him. “but i’d prefer you kept it to your room anyway.”

...

two days

"all right, what’ll it be?” virgil asks, leaning a hip against the counter and readying his pen to write down patton’s order.

“thiiiiiiis whole section,” patton says, outlining the special insert of halloween-themed foods with his pointer finger. “oh, and a hot cocoa/coffee, too.”

“patton.”

“c’mon, pleeaaase?” patton pleads, batting his eyelashes at virgil. “i’ve barely tried any of them, and you only do it once a year—”

“you won’t be able to eat all that,” virgil starts.

“sample sizes, then,” patton says. “little bits of everything.”

virgil pauses.

“you can control my portions, that way,” patton points out. “and i’ll be taste-testing everything, and i won’t be wasting food. win-win.”

virgil hesitates, tapping the pen. “bigger serving of the butternut squash risotto, so you’ll have an actual meal, a side of vegetables of my choice that you’ll eat, and only one cup of caffeinated hot cocoa/coffee, it’s already late in the day.”

patton beams at him, handing him back the menu. “you’re the best.”

“yeah, yeah,” virgil mutters, and patton blows him a kiss, just for extra measure.

virgil rolls his eyes, trying to act like he’s not grinning like a lovestruck idiot, and retreats back into the kitchen to stick the ticket into the deck.

“i really should make a halloween sampler platter next year,” virgil muses aloud, and taps the idea into his phone for later, so he remembers it, before he starts readying patton’s dinner—caramel apple slices, cheesy spiders, monster pizza bites, mummy jalepeño poppers, spooky spinach dip in a bread bowl cauldron, a saucy spider, ghost toast. he adds on a couple decorated cookies that he’ll default are part of the menu, if patton teases him about it.

and, when patton makes the same happy noises that he always does whenever he eats anything that virgil makes him, well. if he’s smiling to himself as he clears out the coffee filters, then it’s no one’s business but his.

...

one day

“i got it,” virgil says triumphantly.

“got what?” patton says absently, taking out the various kinds of candy they’d bought earlier in the week to put into various bowls.

“cocoa’s costume,” virgil says. “i got it.”

“yeah?” patton says, glancing up at him and grinning. “can i see?”

“nope,” virgil says, and drops a kiss to the top of his head, before he drops into the opposite chair at the kitchen table. “but it is very cute, and it ties in with ours.”

“which i’m also not supposed to know about,” patton says.

“exactly,” virgil says, and he frowns at the bags of candy. “are we mixing or sorting or...?”

“stuff with nuts in red, stuff that’s allergen-safe in blue,” patton says, gesturing to the bowls.

“got it,” virgil says, tugging a bag full of fun-size skittles toward him.

cocoa, loyally, takes up her regular seat under the dining table, where she begs for scraps, and patton laughs, reaching down to pet her, tousling her fur and sending her ears flopping.

“no, cocoa, honey,” patton says, smiling, “no candy for you.”

cocoa, however, lives in eternal hope, so she sets her chin on his thigh and lets out a little sigh.

patton does sneakily pop a fun-size snickers into his mouth, though, because he’s an adult and he can eat candy if he wants.

and a milky way. and a three musketeers. and a reese’s. and—

“it’s cute you think i don’t notice you doing that,” virgil says, not looking up from where he’s opening another bag of candy, and patton smiles at him, only a little guilty, as he tosses a handful of m&ms into his mouth.

“aw, babe,” patton teases, “you think i’m cute?”

virgil looks up at him, fond and jokingly exasperated all at once. “we’re literally engaged.”

“yeah, but,” patton says, and grins wider. “you think i’m cu-ute.”

virgil huffs, before he leans over the table, standing, to press a kiss to patton’s lips, and patton can’t stop smiling for long enough to let him do it properly.

virgil doesn’t seem to mind all that much.

...

halloween

"okay,” virgil says, and hands over a vast bunch of black fabric. patton accepts it with eager hands.

“my costume?”

“your costume,” virgil confirms. “i figured i’d do some makeup too, as we’re waiting for trick-or-treaters, if that’s cool with you.”

patton makes a distracted sound of agreement as he unfolds it—he can’t quite unparse what it is right now, but it’s virgil-made in both idea and fabric-wise, so he’s sure he’ll love it.

“okay,” patton says, and presses a kiss to his cheek. “i’ll change and take the first shift of babies trick-or-treating while you and cocoa get everything ready for the party, yeah?”

“yeah,” virgil says, looking pleased, and patton ducks into the bathroom, untangling the fabric.

it’s a black shirt, a black jacket, black pants—they all have feathery-looking accents, subtle and yet so clear, and patton tilts his head at it, trying to figure it out. it’s some kind of bird, definitely, but—

patton shrugs, and tugs it on, before he stares at himself in the mirror—it’s a bit low-cut, front-wise, but there’s threads criss-crossing in the front to seal it up, so he does. there’s a long, duster-type coat that patton really likes and might wear regularly, too, since the feather stuff is maybe subtle enough to pass off in the middle of the regular season.

“do you have a shoe preference?” patton hollers through the bathroom door.

“black ones!” virgil calls back.

“is this a sneak method to make me look goth?” he calls, and he can hear virgil’s snort through the door.

“just for today,” he calls.

“am i a crow?”

“raven, actually, but there’s a specific one, you’ll realize it soon enough,” virgil says, and patton opens the door to see virgil gathering up his own swaths of dark fabric in his arms, cocoa sitting politely at his feet. patton does a little spin to show off.

virgil smiles, and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “you look great.”

“thanks,” patton says, and flaps his arms, and the duster makes it look like wings. “i really like this coat.”

virgil’s smile turns a bit more pleased. “thanks.”

“okay,” patton decides, and makes some last-minute adjustments, making sure his costume sits on him right, and virgil reaches out to correct his collar. “i’ll go out on the porch, just come on out when you and cocoa are ready, yeah?”

he presses a kiss to virgil’s lips, and the last thing he sees is virgil ducking down to cocoa’s level, unearthing a dress-looking thing.

he tries to brainstorm what it is, even as he gives out generous handfuls of candy to the tiny, toddling members of sideshire—mostly toddler-aged kids, at this time, so they don’t have to stay up late—exclaiming over mermaids and superheroes and princesses and witches and ghosts and video game characters, winking at them when he slips them extra.

when their parents ask after him, what exactly he is, he simply shrugs, beaming, before sending the kids on to the next house.

the sun’s just dipped below the horizon when he hears the door open, and the familiar click-click-click of cocoa’s nails on hardwood, then on the porch.

patton whistles lowly, and pats his lap, craning his neck to see her.

she does, indeed, look very cute. patton had been right—it had been a dress, with a kind of vest, maybe, and a tiara nestled amongst the fake flowers on her head that’s already knocked askew.

“you look so cute, baby girl!” patton gushes, getting onto his knees, all the better to pet cocoa without dislodging her costume and to adjust her tiara—it’s ringing a bell in his head, what exactly she is, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

that is, until—

“the princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who know her,” virgil’s voice rumbles, and patton looks up and immediately feels his mouth go dry. “but, before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she shall prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die. or, uh. prick her paw, i guess.”

patton makes a noise that kind of sounds like guh?

virgil is... wow. he’s dressed in sweeping black robes that make him look taller and slimmer than he already is, imposing, somehow, absolutely towering over everything in sight. the robes have a v neck and a pointed, sharp collar that brings attention to the horns emerging from his head. his cheekbones are absolutely chiseled, his lips ruby red, his skin pale and smooth and flawless, his hair—what peeked forth from the horns, anyway—dark and lush and just begging for patton to run his fingers through it.

there’s only peeks of skin—his hands, his neck, a bit of his chest, his face, of course—but he looks so...

patton tries to swallow as he rises to his feet, mouth slightly agape.

virgil’s lips—so red, so full—quirk, and he adjusts his robes, looking self-conscious. “it doesn’t look that bad, does it?” he asks cautiously.

patton reaches up, and scratches lightly through the thin, delicate hairs at the nape of virgil’s neck. he shivers.

and then patton tugs virgil down to his level, and tries his best to kiss him absolutely silly. he threads his fingers through whatever bits of virgil’s hair he can grab, tugging him close, the other closing possessively over virgil’s hip and he just pulls him in, as hot and close and tight as he possibly can, and virgil’s lips part under his and he tastes like snuck chocolate and caramel and nougat, and he bites at virgil’s lip, almost half-hoping it’ll taste like what the color reminds him of—candy-coated apples.

when patton manages to let go of him, once he’s at least a little satisfied his emotions on virgil’s costumes have been almost-adequately conveyed, he leans back to see virgil’s slightly-smeared lip gloss that sends a thrill up patton’s spine.

“oh,” virgil says breathlessly.

“yeah,” patton says, grinning, “oh.”

somehow, they manage to haul out the two rocking chairs and sit out on the porch for the express purpose of ease of access for trick-or-treaters without patton getting distracted, though he does, for most of the rest of the time they wait for the ebb and flow of floods of kids, keep a hand on virgil’s knee, occasionally squeezing virgil’s thigh.

virgil flushes, just a bit, behind his makeup. he ends up fixing up his lips, and making sure that there aren’t any remnants on patton’s face that give away what they’d been doing, lest any of the children ask why maleficent had been kissing her raven, diaval, as they looked up from petting sleeping beauty.

and, as the promised time inches closer and closer, patton can’t stop himself from fidgeting, and virgil snickers.

“excited?” he teases.

“don’t pretend you haven’t planned out all of logan’s favorite meals for the weekend,” patton says, unable to stop his own smile at the thought—since logan’s birthday is on sunday, he’s come home early with one of the default absences that his lecture professor on friday’s given him, and roman’s coming home, too, so the kids will be around and they might have a big dinner with isadora (and probably one with his parents) but he’ll be able to spend time with his son.

their daily phone calls are great, true, but he’s missed just hanging out with logan—their companionable silences, seeing his son furrow his brow with interest when he reads a book or an article, the meaningful, wordless quirks of his brow or twists of his lips that patton’s spent eighteen-almost-nineteen years deciphering—so he’s just. he’s really excited.

when the first guests come—emile and remy, dressed up as steven and connie—patton welcomes them perhaps a bit too eagerly as cocoa barks, tail wagging wildly, and patton tries to correct her tiara again.

he throws himself into hosting as virgil handles the last of the trick-or-treaters that’ll be face-to-face—he makes sure their spooky cauldrons of punch are full, that the platters of themed snacks that virgil had spent most of the day preparing (and mostly preventing patton from eating) are out from the fridge and ferried about the room, and that everyone is having a good time, that he greets everyone and exclaims over their costumes, before—

cocoa starts barking excitedly from the porch, and patton grins, setting down the platter on the nearest available surface and dashing for the door, half-hanging off the ledge in order to see virgil letting logan out of a hug, and tugging roman into an awkward, one-armed kind of thing.

“kiddo!” patton says eagerly, and wraps his arms tightly around logan’s shoulders. logan tolerates it with something less than his usual stiffness—he hugs him back, and patton draws back to grin at him.

“happy halloween.”

“happy halloween,” logan repeats, and patton takes a look at him. he’s wearing a suit, and a dapper hat, and he’s holding a candy cigarette between his fingers, the box with the rest of them tucked away in his breast pocket.

“who—?”

“walter burns, from his girl friday.”

patton snorts, just a bit, because of course logan stuck so stubbornly to his interests for a halloween costume, before he looks for roman—who has matched with logan, as hildy johnson, because last year they’d dressed up as two prince charmings and it’s logan’s year to pick—and hooks him into a hug, too.

“i tried convincing him to do black-and-white makeup, but he wouldn’t go for it,” roman says.

“we were already running late,” logan begins, and they barely pause in their bickering to pet cocoa—patton’s given up in keeping her tiara and flowers straight on her head—before they disappear inside, and patton turns to virgil, grinning.

“happy halloween,” virgil says, and leans down to kiss him on the cheek, and patton beams up at him.

“happy halloween.”

(patton doesn’t wash off the bright red lip print on his cheek until he’s getting ready for bed that night.)

#my post #text #my fic #sanders sides spooky month 2019 #wyliwf #the sideshire files

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angsty-nerd · 4 years

Text

Echo-inspired Season 1 Playlist

So I’ve been meaning to share this for… a really long time. But I’m kind of glad that I waited so long because I found a bunch more songs to add and ended up doing an edit on this playlist this weekend, so this is where it landed. It’s a bit of a beast—40+ songs. (And it’s my shorter Echo playlist… I have another one I’m still playing with that has all of these, plus the show’s soundtrack songs, plus recommendations that I’m still considering for future Echo use…so this is the reasonably lengthen one…haha). If you just want to go to Spotify and check it out, here’s the link.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/14ZIHN2MwjfgFbA6yF3RAO?si=5vPkiahyQw-voaZjqMLWsw

If you want to read my rambles about the progression of the songs and why I picked them, along with some lyrics from each one that make me think of Echo, that beastly monstrosity is below the cut for you! Here’s just the track list:

1. Armor - Sara Bareilles 2. People Need a Melody - the Head and the Heart 3. A World to Explore - Joshua Radin 4. Missed Connection - the Head and the Heart 5. Summer Years - Death Cab for Cutie 6. It’s OK - Natalie Taylor 7. Something American - Jade Bird 8. Anchor - Novo Amor 9. Harvest Moon - Neil Young 10. Crash Into Me - Dave Matthews Band 11. Silhouettes - Oscar Blue 12. The Storm - The Airborne Toxic Event 13. The Space Between - Dave Matthews Band 14. Walls - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers 15. Ruins - Jade Bird 16. The Last Time - Taylor Swift feat. Gary Lightbody 17. Run No More - the Talbott Brothers 18. Wild Heart - Bleachers 19. Dream - Bishop Briggs 20. Lullaby - Lord Huron 21. Watch Me - Labi Siffre 22. Grew Up Fast - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers 23. 17 - Jade Bird 24. Your Hurricane - Death Cab for Cutie 25. Lose that Light - Folly and the Hunter 26. Such a Simple Thing - Ray LaMontagne 27. Make These Colors Real - Hush Kids 28. Surrender - Natalie Taylor 29. I’ll Be Your Mirror - Clem Snide 30. Courage - P!nk 31. Easy - Camilla Cabello 32. Day Too Soon - Sis 33. Truly Madly Deeply - Yoke Lore 34. Side by Side - Layup 35. Electric Love - BØRNS 36. Duet - Penny and Sparrow feat. Stephanie Briggs 37. Atlas: Two - Sleeping at Last 38. Another Story - the Head and the Heart 39. Come to this - Natalie Taylor 40. Six Feet Under - Billie Eilish 41. Hello My Old Heart - the Oh Hellos 42. Poetry by Dead Men - Sara Bareilles 43. Recovering the Satellites - Counting Crows 44. The Chain - Ingrid Michaelson

PRE-SHOW

1. Armor - Sara Bareilles

Stolen from Carina’s Liz mix, and obviously heavy on the Ortecho vibe in general. I might associate it a little more with Rosa back in the flashbacks, being proud of Liz and protective of her.

You think I am high and mighty mister Wait til you meet my little sister

2. People Need A Melody - the Head and the Heart

This song just gives me images of Max sitting at home over the years, listening to music, and then Bright Eyes comes on and it just takes him back to that day in the desert when he was lucky enough to be openly in love with Liz for one day before everything went to hell. 💔

All those books in your head, Is that all this really was? Just a role you play that you could hide behind Is it what you want? To bury yourself away Before your time goes I don’t want a love that holds us back I don’t want a life that I can’t have

Cause people need a melody to open their eyes Like a key to a memory frozen in time Holding onto everything, you’re stuck in the past Boy, when you gonna learn the world moves fast?

3. A World to Explore - Josh Radin

Liz leaves on her road trip, pushing the past away, and moving forward into her new life.

Yesterday rains came Everything’s changing The past has closed its door Well I know there’s something more I know there’s so much more So far to go On this open road, a world to explore So far to go On this open road, away we go

4. Missed Connection - the Head and the Heart

Somewhat self explanatory, I think. Mostly I just think of Max staying in Roswell haunted by all of the what ifs, and how close he and Liz came to being something real.

Did you find what you were looking for? Had to open every single door I get the feeling you’ve been here before From a missed connection Don’t tell me I lost a step Criss-crossed in the wrong direction Found myself in a conversation From a missed connection

5. Summer Years - Death Cab for Cutie

This is, like, my #1 Max over the 10 year gap song. I just hear him all through it, haunted by Rosa’s death and the coverup, heartbroken by Liz’s sudden departure, and trapped in his life.

Sometimes I’m overcome by every choice I couldn’t outrun… And I wonder where you are tonight If the one you’re with is a compromise Cause we’re walking lines in parallel That will never meet and it’s just as well

6. It’s Ok - Natalie Taylor

You know in the pilot, Max says he used to think about what he’d say if he ever saw Liz again. Meaning he didn’t really anymore. Meaning at some point he let go of the hope of her returning to Roswell. That’s kind of where my mind goes listening to this song.

It only hurts me to live this way Holding on to yesterday… Close my eyes, you’re gone And I’m the only one still holding on It’s ok I’ve got to let you go

7. Something American - Jade Bird

I have an old-school song fic just waiting to come out inspired by this song… I hear a lot of different things in it. Mostly I hear Max and the memory of Liz and Cameron in it. With a little bit of Kyle thrown in too.

In my dreams I find The stars align and they all collide And it’s you and I back in time It feels so right But you don’t call me now And I don’t think too much about you When she’s not around I can feel you’re lonely

PILOT

8. Anchor - Novo Amor

Max’s reaction to Liz finally coming home & hoping she’ll stay.

I hear your ship is coming in Your tears a sea for me to swim I hear a storm is coming in My dear, is it all we’ve ever been Anchor up to me, love

9. Harvest Moon - Neil Young

Max gets that brief smile on his face when he’s watching Liz dance in the Crashdown, before he lets her know he’s there. And this is what I hear going through his head in that moment.

When we were strangers I’d watch you from afar When we were lovers I’d love you with all my heart… Because I’m still in love with you I want to see you dance again

10. Crash Into Me - Dave Matthews Band

It honestly took me a long time to get on board with adding this one, because it’s such an important OG Max/Liz song. But a while back in one of her Q&As, Carina said that if she could give the pilot a title it’d be this, and even with this different version of Max and Liz it still is the perfect song and perfect metaphor for their experience in the pilot.

Lost for you I’m so lost for you You come crash into me

11. Silhouettes - Oscar Blue

I mean….

Do I need to say anything more? Okay, well here are some lyrics to emphasize my point.

She’s a diamond in the coal Something that enchants my soul Graceful and captivating Just one glance and my mind is invaded… So should I try really really hard Or just keep loving you from afar… Oh can we walk into the sunset Until our bodies are silhouettes Cause busy days cause busy lives And maybe you’ll just keep on walking by Are my hopes just gonna suffocate in my doubt Or am I being my anxious self drowning my chances out

SO MUCH FOR THE AFTERGLOW

12. The Storm - the Airborne Toxic Event

I definitely stole this from someone else’s Echo mix…but take it as a compliment! I definitely see a little bit of Liz coming home in this song, both from her perspective and Max’s. But in my playlist’s narrative I also see this as being kind of like the end of 1x02, when Liz makes the decision to stay and investigate Rosa’s murder.

I surprise myself sometimes The way the days unfold and this road unwinds You tell me you see it too And the miles seem like inches when I think of you It’s been 25 days since I’ve been gone 25 weeks since I’ve seen my home I spent 25 months chasing this song and all of this time I’ve been alone Then you walk right through the doorway You tell me you’re here to stay

TEARING UP MY HEART

13. The Space Between - Dave Matthews Band

So if the last song was the end of 1x02, that means now we’re in the awkward, heartbreaking period where Max is pouring his heart out, and Liz is pretending to feel nothing because she doesn’t trust him. 💔 Which is basically the running theme for the next few songs…

You cannot quit me so quickly There’s no hope in you for me… The space between the wicked lies we tell And hope to keep safe from the pain… We’re strange allies with warring hearts…

14. Walls - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

My brother played this song while we were driving from Phoenix to the Grand Canyon in February. It was the morning after Smells Like Teen Spirit aired, Liz had just told Max that she never wanted to see him again, and I heard this song for the first time and said to myself, “YES.”

All around your island there’s a barricade That keeps out the danger that holds in the pain Sometimes you’re happy sometimes you cry Half of me is ocean half of me is sky But you’ve got a heart so big it could crush this town But I can’t hold out forever even walls fall down

15. Ruins - Jade Bird

Just…I think about Max and that painful scene between him and Liz at the end of this episode, and how much her accusations throw him off. And the resulting explosion that caused the blackout.

How do we have to do this again? I’ll tell you how I’m feeling You’re like a cryptomaniac trying to connect the dots and the facts How do we have to be here? ‘Cause these hotels, I just can’t relax The more I bend, the worse that I snap I feel like a goddamn maniac

Tell me what did I do to deserve somebody like you? It’s too hard to tell the truth nothing’s real and nothing’s rude I’m just a product of my emotions and they’re all setting off again… You sure you wanna do this now? Oh, you sure you wanna do this now?

'Cause I mean it when I say that I don’t understand And I mean it when I say that I’m not sure who I am 'Cause one minute I love you and the next it’s all in ruins One minute thinking of you and the next my mind’s in ruins

WHERE HAVE ALL THE COWBOYS GONE

16. The Last Time - Taylor Swift feat. Gary Lightbody

Very much the Crashdown “how do you truly feel about me” scene.

Find myself at your door just like all those times before I’m not sure how I got there all roads, they lead me here I imagine you are home in your room, all alone And you open your eyes into mine and everything feels better And right before your eyes I’m breaking No past, no reasons why just you and me This is the last time I’m asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I’m asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye

DON’T SPEAK

Don’t Speak is one of my favorite chunks of this playlist. I love the pre-pilot set of songs, this set, and then the Recovering the Satellites to the end set the most out of all of this whole thing. Just thought I’d share. Also 3 of my 4 favorite episodes. Hmmm… 🤔

17. Run No More - the Talbott Brothers

So, this is kind of my interpretation of Max’s POV after learning that Isobel sent Liz away. I feel like that knowledge and the realization that Michael and Isobel had manipulated the biggest heartbreak of his life, and lied to him for a decade about it, kind of freed him in a sense. And for the first time he felt like he could stop hiding and release his guilt. If Liz hadn’t been in trouble, I think he would have gone straight to her and confessed everything.

It doesn’t get easier the further I run It gets harder to carry the weight of what I’ve done I am speaking from experience I don’t wanna run no more

18. Wild Heart - Bleachers Pretty much same themes as above. These two songs to me are kind of the combo of that determination in Max. Above is more focused on his guilt and wanting to reveal the truth. This one is more about his love for Liz and his determination to find her and protect her and love her.

As I sat with the echoes of lies that I told I felt young, never changed by crooked hearts… Well, everything has changed And now it’s only you that matters I will find any way to your wild heart

19. Dream - Bishop Briggs

I don’t remember who did a fanvid to this…was it Mo? It was wonderful and it’s perfect for the end of this episode. Max running to save Liz from Wyatt Long and wanting to come clean to her, even though he knew it would likely still make her turn away from him. Liz breaking down at the end…sniffles.

Oh, I had a dream that you couldn’t hear me screaming Trying to tell you everything but it wouldn’t stop you leaving I wanna wake up where your love is 'Cause your love is always waking mine

I wanna break down where your heart gets So torn it’s almost breaking mine I wanna lay here, lost and bitter So long, I feel like I could die I wanna tell you what my truth is But it’s buried down inside

20. Lullaby - Lord Huron

I heart this song… and I think it speaks to Liz in this episode so much. The danger she puts herself in, Wyatt!Noah coming after her, Max desperately wanting to protect her…

You arrive along with the sun Where have you been darlin’? What have you done? You were out finding trouble again There’s a fire in your eyes and there’s blood on your hands Come inside and lie down to sleep You ain’t gonna run and you know that you’re beat Rest awhile, they’re coming for you There’s a price to be paid for the things that we do

Fall asleep and forget all your troubles Dream of laughter and old friends and lovers Dream of when you were innocent

SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT

21. Watch Me - Labi Siffre Early in the episode, when they were happy and innocent. I feel like this song just kind of captures that young love, high school vibe.

Watch me when you look my way See me smiling, be my night and day Touch me in your own sweet way Feel me tremble, you take my words away All of the time I love you Make you a rhyme, I love you

22. Grew Up Fast - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Here’s another Tom Petty song from my brother’s playlist that we listened to on the way to the Grand Canyon on the day after this episode aired. I heard it, and immediately thought of the Pod Squad (and Liz) and how the incidents surrounding Rosa’s death kind of forced them all out of their youth and into a traumatic adulthood. Also I think it kind of bridges back to the present with Max telling Liz the story of Rosa’s death and her reaction towards him at the end of the episode.

We grew up fast when lies were just a fact of life We grew up mad cause we never had a home… Hey, my brother I’ve got no fight with you, I just can’t lie down Hey, my brother I’ve got no fight with you, I just can’t lie down No, I just can’t lie down, I just can’t lie down Well, you know who I am So don’t treat me like I’m someone else… You never talk like that to no one else You never scream like that for no one else

23. 17 - Jade Bird

This…just…the look on Max’s face when Liz runs out after telling him she never wants to see him again. It’s like his heart is breaking all over again.

You asked me to be yours, well you’re tempting fate How I left a promise but it’s one I can’t make Lord knows it’d kill me if you walked away But darling my lies, they hide you from the pain Stay, let me explain why I act so mean Don’t look away, baby, it’s not all that it seems I’m so afraid that you’ll just get up and leave My heart will break like I’m 17

I SAW THE SIGN & BARELY BREATHING

24. Your Hurricane - Death Cab for Cutie

“Liz Ortecho is my hurricane.” Max is such a ball of anger and angst in this episode. This song may lean a little more on the anger side than really played out in the episode, but I still think it works, considering that Liz spends much of this episode creating the serum.

You used to be such a delicate kid A lonely fish in a sea full of squid So I can’t blame you for leaving how you did You just fell off the grid 'Cause heaven is a hole in the sky The stars are cracks in the ceiling of night But you can’t be your own alibi As hard as you try It’s a tired refrain you’re singing over and over again As you try to explain who’s at fault for your mistakes But I won’t be the debris in your hurricane

25. Lose That Light - Folly and the Hunter

I don’t recall where I got this song from…it may have come from someone else’s playlist. But it makes me think about how rough of a go Max has it in Barely Breathing and how Liz is, like, the light that kind of guides him through it, that he has faith in to save his sister.

In my arms you fell, after fighting tooth and nail. The convictions you have are all gone now. You followed that trail, just to take a chance and fail. Do not let that dark voice call you out Even if it gets hard, don’t lose that light…

26. Such a Simple Thing - Ray LaMontagne

I see this as the end of the episode, when they are so close to being on the same page, but Liz is still afraid and still puts up that wall. Max sees how amazing she is, how she’s willing to fight to save Isobel for him. And Liz is beginning to feel it as well, because the drive to do it for Max, to comfort him, was so powerful. “My heart is like paper” = Max, “yours is like a flame” = Liz.

Tell me what you’re feeling I can take the pain Tell me that you mean it That you won’t leave again Tell me what your heart wants Such a simple thing My heart is like paper Yours is like a flame

SONGS ABOUT TEXAS

27. Make These Colors Real - Hush Kids

This song just makes me think about that vibe all through Songs About Texas prior to the kiss. The heart eyes looks, the touches, how close they are to going there, even though it hasn’t happened yet. This is also the only song I couldn’t find lyrics for online so I transcribed as best I can, but I couldn’t figure one line out, so I just left it off the post! Sorryyyy…

I guess you win, I guess I’ll see you around again Locked eyes, brushed hands. I’ll lie and say we’re only friends Yes I want you but I don’t want to Cause I can’t hold you when I want to So maybe I’m selfish, maybe it’s reckless Maybe I’m out of my mind

Ooh you make me weak you, you make me seek you You’d make me dive down to the depth of your ocean Ooh if I could hold you… I’d make these colors real

28. Surrender - Natalie Taylor

Throughout this whole episode I feel like there’s a general sense of Liz giving up her fight against Max. She can’t hide how much she loves him anymore. She hasn’t quite decided to be with him yet…but throughout the episode that wall thins more and more until she finally does give in to him.

No one will win this time I just want you back I’m running to your side Flying my white flag, my white flag… Whenever you’re ready, whenever you’re ready Can we, can we surrender I surrender

29. I’ll Be Your Mirror - Clem Snide

I’m pretty sure this came from another Echo playlist…because it’s the perfect song to represent Max’s speech to Liz to reveal how well he sees her.

I find it hard to believe you don’t know The beauty you are But if you don’t let me be your eyes A hand to your darkness, so you won’t be afraid When you think the night has seen your mind That inside you’re twisted and unkind Let me stand to show that you are blind Please put down your hands 'Cause I see you I’ll be your mirror, reflect what you are

30. Courage - P!nk

That split second before Liz decides to grab Max and pull him in for the kiss…

See, I let the light in the darkest places Let the sun shine, pain goes away Nothing is permanent for me Have I the courage to change?

31. Easy - Camilla Cabello

It’s almost ridiculous how Echo’s first kiss this song is. Like, seriously, Camilla? Do you watch RNM? Are you an Echo shipper? Is this your own personal fan song?

You really, really know me The future and the old me All of the mazes and the madness in my mind You really, really love me You know me and you love me And it’s the kind of thing I always hoped I’d find

Always thought I was hard to love 'Til you made it seem so easy, seem so easy Always thought I was hard to love 'Til you made it seem so easy, seem so easy Touch me 'til I find myself, in a feeling Tell me with your hands that you’re never leaving Always thought I was hard to love 'Til you made it seem so easy, seem so easy All I know is you, heal me when I’m broken, heal me when I’m broken All I know is you, saved me and you know it, saved me and you know it

32. Day Too Soon - Sia

Liz making the choice that it is finally the right time for her to stop running. Okay, Max has been waiting patiently, but for Liz everything has finally perfectly collided.

Pick me up in your arms Carry me away from harm You’re never gonna put me down I know you’re just one good man You’ll tire before we see land You’re never gonna put me down You’ll risk all this for just a kiss I promise I will not resist

Promise you won’t hold me down And when we reach a good place Let’s be sure to leave no trace Promise they won’t track us down

Now I’ve been running all my life I ran away, I ran away from good Yeah, I’ve been waiting all my life You’re not a day, you’re not a day too soon

33. Truly Madly Deeply - Yoke Lore

Awesome cover of 90’s song? Check! Super romantic to the point of almost cheesy? Check! It’s got Echo getting together written all over it.

I’ll be your dream, I’ll be your wish, I’ll be your fantasy. I’ll be your hope, I’ll be your love, be everything that you need. I’ll love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply do I want to stand with you on a mountain I want to bathe with you in the sea. I want to lay like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me

I DON’T WANT TO MISS A THING, CHAMPAGNE SUPERNOVA, CREEP

34. Side By Side - Layup

Sadly, I don’t have a lot of songs for this chunk of episodes for Echo. But they’re finally together, on the same team, being awesome, so that’s pretty much all I’m getting at with this song.

And so, now I go down all these roads with you, my home And now, I’ll keep you close I hope you know - I love you most So here I walk by your side, oh, on our own time Oh, we’ll be alright, as long as we stay side by side From the coldest nights to warmer degrees we’ll get by You and I, side by side

RECOVERING THE SATELLITES

35. Electric Love - BØRNS

I mean… Alien!God Max channeling all that lightning to get the job done is fucking sexy. And then he just marches home to worship his love the way Liz deserves. *nods firmly*

Baby you’re like lightning in a bottle I can’t let you go now that I got it All I need is to be struck By your electric love Baby, you’re electric love Electric love Rushing through me I feel your energy rushing through me…

36. Duet - Penny and Sparrow f/ Stephanie Briggs

Echo love scene. Just ignore that Liz is not wearing a dress. Everything else fits. And the chorus? *chefs kiss* “Because I’ve seen you and I know you”...ties right back to their first kiss and Max proving to Liz that he isn’t holding onto some high school fantasy. “And I’m not going anywhere”...it breaks my heart because it was 100% true in that moment…but hours later Max is dead. 😭

I bet your shoulders can hold more than just the straps of that tiny dress That I’ll help you slide aside when we get home I’ve seen 'em carry family and the steel drum weight of me Effortless, just like that dress that I’ll help off I bet your back can carry more than just the weight of your button-down One by one, they’ll come undone when we get home I’ve seen you carry family and all my insecurities One by one, they’ll come undone when we get home

Because I’ve seen you And I know you And I’m not going anywhere

37. Atlas: Two - Sleeping at Last

This is, like, the most Max song ever. Especially where his head is at right at the end of Recovering the Satellites after he and Liz make love, when he is straight up in worshipful puppy mode. It makes me both 😍 and 😭, because I love how much he loves her, but I know how unhealthy his devotion is, and that it leads to him dying.

Sweetheart, you look a little tired when did you last eat? Come in and make yourself right at home stay as long as you need Tell me, is something wrong? If something’s wrong, you can count on me You know I’ll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat It’s okay if you can’t find the words Let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders

Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you with every single thing I have Like a tidal wave, I’ll make a mess Or calm waters, if that serves you best I will love you without any strings attached It’s okay if you can’t catch your breath You can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest I know exactly how the rule goes put my mask on first No, I don’t want to talk about myself tell me where it hurts I just want to build you up, build you up ‘til you’re good as new And maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too I don’t even know where to start Already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well I just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved myself Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you without any strings attached What a privilege it is to love A great honor to hold you, love Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you with every single thing I have Like a tidal wave, I’ll make a mess Or calm waters if that serves you best I will love you without any strings attached I will love you without a single string attached

38. Another Story - the Head and the Heart

In my head this is another afterglow, Max manic on love & power and it pushes him to do something crazy song...I both see he and Liz happy together in his bed in the morning sunlights and flickering firelight...and Max deciding to heal Rosa. 😍😭

These are just flames burning in your fireplace I hear your voice and it seems as if it was all a dream I wish it was all a dream I see a world, a world turning in on itself Are we just like hungry wolves howling in the night I don’t want no music tonight

Every time I hear another story Oh the poor boy lost his head Everybody feels a little crazy But we go on living with it

39. Come to This - Natalie Taylor

Liz crying over Max’s body 😭😭😭. There is no heart eyes here. It’s all just paaaain. 😭😭😭

How can this happen? How can this be? There is no ending, there is no peace The darkness is so close The light so quickly goes And now it’s all gone Now it’s all gone Will you hear me when I speak? Do you feel the pain with me? I’ve tried to be so strong I thought that hope would come But you’re not here

Oh, the darkness keeps its grip Oh, how’d it come to this? Oh, please come back Please come back

40. Six Feet Under - Billie Eilish

More Liz crying over Max’s body…and just love and pain and death and sadness. 😭😭😭

Retrace my lips Erase your touch It’s all too much for me Blow away Like smoke in air How can you die carelessly? Our love is six feet under I can’t help but wonder If our grave was watered by the rain Would roses bloom? Could roses bloom?

POST-SEASON 1

These are just kind of my headcanon songs of various post-S1 reactions from Liz at various different dark moments.

41. Hello My Old Heart - the Oh Hellos

I see a lot of people attribute this song to Liz at the beginning of the show, but I think it’s more appropriate at the end of the season. I’d love it if they use this song in Season 2. I see it more as Liz putting the walls she had at the beginning of the show back up again after loving and losing Max, which would break my heart. But I think it’s how she would cope while he’s gone and then those walls would come back down.

Hello, my old heart It’s been so long Since I’ve given you away And every day, I add another stone To the walls I built around you To keep you safe

Oh, oh, don’t leave me here alone Don’t tell me that we’ve grown For having loved a little while Oh, oh, I don’t wanna be alone I wanna find a home And I wanna share it with you

42. Poetry By Dead Men - Sara Bareilles

I can see this scene in my head. I can see Liz and Max both longing for this scene in their head. Just the simple domesticity of drinking coffee together in the afterglow, while Max reads poetry to Liz. Except that he had to go and die first and that just fucking sucks. So I hear some anger and a little bit of “don’t let the door hit you on your way out” in this song, and I could see Liz occasionally just having moments of anger in her grief where she feels this way. Briefly.

By the time you hear this, who knows where I might be Singing about another near-miss love that ended incomplete I was ready, but you weren’t So jump with your net from this bridge you’ve burned I wanted to tell you things, all the secrets I’ve been keeping I saw it in front of me, but then you just kept disappearing A good dream, almost, now I tell your ghost

I wanted to be your girl in a white T-shirt Over coffee, stirring in the cinnamon While you read me poetry by dead men I wanted to be your girl with your hands on my skin Stirring in the cinnamon While you read me poetry by dead men

43. Recovering the Satellites - Counting Crows

This is one of the few episode titles where the lyrics actually get to me, like in a plotty way. But not necessarily from what happens in the episode, so much as the idea of Liz questioning later whether the brief moment of love she had with Max was worth all of the accompanying pain. 😭😭😭😭

So why’d you come home to this sleepless town? It’s a lifetime commitment, recovering the satellites All anybody really wants to know is When you’re gonna come down, when you’re gonna come down But we only stay in orbit for a moment of time And then you’re everybody’s satellite I wish that you were mine, I wish that you were mine

44. The Chain - Ingrid Michaelson

Definitely stole this from someone else, but it’s perfect and I love ending with it, because even though it’s loaded down with all of the pain we’re feeling at the end of the season, it also has a little twinge of hope and possibility for that future day when Max comes back (which we all know he will)! So in other words, it’s 😭😭😍😍

The sky looks pissed The wind talks back My bones are shifting in my skin And you my love are gone My room feels wrong The bed won’t fit I cannot seem to operate And you my love are gone

I’ll never say that I’ll never love But I don’t say a lot of things And you my love are gone

So glide away on soapy heels And promise not to promise anymore And if you come around again Then I will take, Then I will take, The chain from off the door

#music of my soul #rnm echo music #rnm echo

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jordan102791 · 4 years

Text

Pixie Love Note part 13

Amanda stepped through the door, shoving it closed with her foot. The smell of white paper bags stuffed into a carboard box battling the savory meals contained within. "Hey guys, I got some food while I was out. Hope you're still hungry."

"When aren't we hungry?" Gage already hopping up from his seat to take the precious cargo she carried.

"Fair enough. But you might wanna watch it or you'll start getting that pudge," she said with teasing smile only for him.

"Where'd you go?" Pete starts pulling bags and passing them around the table.

"Duke's." She says simply leaving the conversation there.

"God, they have good food. I might sell my own soul for a piece of their pie."

"Which one," Mags asks.

"Any of them. Good pie's worth a soul don't you think? I don't think I'd be upset with that trade."

Amanda's eyes find her brother's watching her steadily. A subtle nod of understanding that everyone else misses, so engrossed in the food before them. Her little cat's paws whisper down the hallway to the table in the kitchen. She knows he'll follow even if he doesn't need to, but he will. He wants to know, she sees and sea swirling the sand up from the depths in those eyes much like her own. He'll follow. He can't help himself.

Firm steps creak worn floor boards, eating up the distance. "So? How was she?" His rough voice a feather weighing the a metric ton on his shoulders. So quiet it's barely there, yet the only thing really in the room.

"She's fine. She's scared."

"Of me?"

"No, I think she's scared of herself."

"What? That doesn't make any sense."

"Listen Jace, she feels something and she doesn't want to. There's something there. I don't know what it is, but I can see it consuming her. She'll be ok. She'll come around, you just have to give her the time to realize she's being stupid, but she will."

"So you talked to her?"

"Yea, I talked to her. I told her she needs to talk to you. She knows she does, just let her straighten herself out first, okay?"

"Yea. Are you tired?"

"I'm fine, Jason."

"Maybe you should go up and lay down for a bit."

"I'm fine, I'm just gonna sit her for a minute and catch my breath, because y'all are a bunch of pigs that put away my body weight in food," she said getting a chuckle from him before he nodded heading back to his friends. She turned back to the island, looking down at the palms of her hands, praying for God to not leave her brother alone. She found herself doing that a lot lately. Others prayed for a miracle, a cure, a tumor to magically disappear. She didn't. She wasn't ready to die, but she'd fought a long while already, longer than most in her position got to. She prayed for a miracle, but not for herself.

*****

"Piper?" A deep voice rumbled behind her. A wave of electricity shot from the top of her head through to her feet. Her head swiveled away from the magazine in her lap up into the tan face that stole her breath each time.

"Jason. I mean Wulf."

"You can call me Jason if you'd like to. I like the way it sounds when you say it."

Heat stole across her cheeks. "Ok. What are you doing here? Is Amanda all right?"

"Oh yea, she's ok. Well as ok as she can be I guess. She just had an appointment to check in. What about you?"

"Well, it would seem someone knocked over the pitcher of Ranch dressing in the walk- in. Delia slipped and fell, so she's in back getting some X-rays to make sure nothing's broken right now. I volunteered to drive her."

"That certainly was nice of you, mind if I sit with you while we wait?" His large hand she sometimes fantasizes about late at night gesturing to the empty seat beside her.

"Ummm... Yea." She scrambles to move her purse out of his way.

His tall, lithe form folding into the seat. "So, are we gonna talk about the other day, or pretend it never happened?"

She knew she would need to talk to him, if she hadn't been so exhausted last night she might have even texted him first. But it looked like right here and in person was in the cards for her instead. She nodded.

"Well? Is everything okay?" His gentle voice tentative.

"No. Yes. I'm not sure."

"All right. Where would you like to start?" His brow creased in concern.

"I like you, really I do."

"Good, because I like you too," his smile brightening up every facet of his face.

"But I don't want anything from you."

"That's one of the things I like about you."

"No, I mean... I'm not sure what I mean really, but I just want to be friends and I screwed that all up."

"Why do we have to be just friends? What's wrong with a bit more than that?"

"Because one day you might want a bit more than that... And... And I can't give you that?"

"Why can't you? Am I so unlovable?"

"No," she said adamantly. "But that's the problem. I can't give you the love you're going to deserve from someone. And I can't do that to you. I can't steal that away from you."

"So, if you're so certain about this decision, why sleep with me at all? I was fully prepared to put you to bed and leave, but you asked me to stay. And now you can barely even look at me." Her eyes snap to his.

"I thought I was having a dream..." She quietly admits.

"Oh so you dream about me, huh?" The crimson coloring her face answering his question where words fail. "But you can't be with me?"

"That's right."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why can't we be together? Why can't we try and just see where all of this goes?"

"We... We just can't. Okay?"

"No. Not okay. Tell me why."

"I can't. It's complicated. I can offer friendship, but nothing more."

"What could be so complicated? Just talk to me."

Before she could respond a young woman came out from the back, her wrist wrapped in a brace. She waved the sheathed hand to Piper that she was finished. The dark haired beauty snagged her purse up off the ground. "I have to go, we have to get back to work, but you can text me tonight. I may even answer," she says with a smirk he thought about calling her bluff on. But before she could think better of it she leaned down to peck a chaste kiss to his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise. "Friends, right?" Words had left him stranded on the desert island in his mind. His throat tight, his mind flustered, he nods his ascent.

Piper strides across the waiting room to the girl watching them from the doorway. He can hear bits of the muffled conversation.

"Who's the hottie?" Delia, he thinks is what Piper said name was, asks.

"Ummm... He's... He's a friend."

"Wish I had friends that looked like that."

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gaycodependency · 5 years

Photo

are we alright? | listen here

(before facemash to after the depositions); the beginning and the ongoing possibilities, with the unpredictable in-betweens.

tracks + lyrics i think relate to them (eduardo, mark, or both).

1. ribs - lorde.

..we can talk it so good, we can make it so divine, we can talk it good, how you wish it would be all the time.. this dream isn’t feeling sweet, we’re reeling through the midnight streets, and i’ve never felt more alone, it feels so scary getting old.. you’re the only friend i need, sharing beds like little kids, and laughing till our ribs get tough but that will never be enough.

2. start a riot - BANNERS.

i will march down an empty street like a ship into the storm. no surrender, no retreat. i will tear down every wall just to keep you warm, just to bring you home.. i will keep you safe and sound when there’s no one left to trust. will you take my hand? we can make our stand. if your world falls apart, i’d start a riot. if night falls in your heart, i’ll light the fire.. we’ll find each other’s arms. for your love, all you are, i’d start a riot..

3. i found - amber run.

i’ll use you as a warning sign, that if you talk enough sense then you’ll lose your mind. and i’ll use you as a focal point so i don’t lose sight of what i want. and i moved further than i thought i could, but i missed you more than i thought i would. and i’ll use you as a warning sign, that if you talk enough sense than you’ll lose your mind. and i found love where it wasn’t suppose to be, right in front of me..

4. 1000 times - hamilton leithauser + rostam.

i had a dream that you were mine, i’ve had that dream a thousand times.. i left my room on the west side, i walked from noon until the night. i changed my crowd, i ditched my tie. i watched the sparks fly off the fire.. my eyes were red, the streets were bright. those ancient years were black and white. the 10th of november, the year’s almost over. if i had your number, i’d call you tomorrow. if my eyes were open, i'd be kicking the doors in. but all that i have is this old dream i've always had. a thousand time, a thousand times, i had that dream a thousand times..

5. take me to church - hozier.

my lover’s got humor.. knows everybody’s disapproval. if the heavens ever did speak, she’s the last true mouthpiece.. “we were born sick” you heard them say it.. the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you. i was born sick, but i love it. command me to be well.. i’ll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife. offer me that deathless death, good god let me give you my life.. if i’m the pagan of the good times, my lover’s the sunlight.. we’ve a lot a starving faithful. that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work. take me to church, i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies.. no masters or kings when the ritual begins. there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin, in the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene. only then i am human, only then i am clean..

6. sign of the times - harry styles.

..we never learn, we’ve been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets, the bullets? just stop your crying, it’s the sign of the times. we gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, it’ll be alright.. we don’t talk enough, we should open up.. will we ever learn? we’ve been here before. it’s just what we know..

7. oceans - seafret.

i want you. yeah, i want you. and nothing comes close to the way that i need you. i wish i could feel your skin, and i want you from somewhere within. it feels like there’s oceans between me and you once again. we hide our emotions under the surface and try to pretend but it feels like there’s oceans between you and me. i want you, and i always will. i wish i was worth. but i know you deserve. i know i’d rather drown than to go on without you, but you’re pulling me down. it feels like there’s oceans between you and me once again..

8. lava lamp - cuco.

someone’s out there waiting for me, i have to find her and tell her that i love her. you’re a million miles away. the bridge between winter and summer seem’s like a bummer, but it’s worth the wait. and i know you’ll shine the way with your lava lamp (lava lamp) in the middle of your room. from my window, i could see bright, blue light was shining deep like the sea on new year’s eve, wishing you were next to me. yesterday in LA, it was sunny but it rained in my room (in my room) when i wrote a song for- someone’s out there waiting for me, i have to find her and tell her that i love her. if only you’d hold me, and i wasn’t one billion miles away..

9. blank space - taylor swift.

nice to meet you, where you been? i can show you incredible things; magic, madness, heaven, sin. saw you there, and i thought “oh my god, look at that face, you look like my next mistake. love’s a game, wanna play?” new money, suit and tie, i can read you like a magazine. ain’t it funny? rumors fly and i know you heard about me. so, hey, let’s be friends, i’m dying to see how this one ends. grab your passport and my hand.. so it’s gonna be forever or it’s gonna go down in flames. you can tell me when it’s over if the high was worth the pain.. cause we’re young and we’re reckless, we’ll take this way too far. it’ll leave you breathless or with a nasty scar.. but i’ve got a blank space, baby, and i’ll write your name. cherry lips, crystal skies; i could show you incredible things, stolen kisses, pretty lies.. find out what you want.. wait, the worst is yet to come. oh no. screaming, crying, perfect storms. i can make all the tables turn. rose garden filled with thorns.. i get drunk on jealousy. but you’ll come back each time you leave ‘cause, darling, i’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream.. boys only want love if it’s torture, don’t say i didn’t, say i didn’t warn ya..

10. young & beautiful - lana del rey.

.. hot summer nights, mid-july when you and i were forever wild. the crazy days, city lights.. will you still love me when i got nothing but my aching soul?.. all that grace, all that body, all that face makes me wanna party. he’s my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds..

11. you get me so high - the neighborhood.

hope you don’t regret it, i pushed a lot back but i can’t forget it.. nobody seemed to hear us, but we said it. neither of us planned it, and for a long time i took it all for granted. i really thought we had it, but at the time it was more than i could manage so if we can leave it all behind us and meet in between. it would get me so high all the time.. would you come with me? wish i didn’t doubt it, i wish i never ever told you all about it. i just had to let you know, i never meant to hurt you though. i had all my motives, i didn’t know they wouldn’t mix with your emotions. i just had to reach my goals, never knew i’d need you though, so if we can agree to disagree and keep on reaching.. we should stick together, you’re my best friend, i’ll love you forever. we could be the greatest, doesn’t matter if we’re never rich or famous.. if you can just let me know if it’s okay to call you when i’m lonely.

12. strangers - halsey.

she doesn’t kiss me on the mouth anymore cause it’s more intimate than she thinks we should get. she doesn’t look me in the eyes anymore, too scared of what she’ll see, somebody holding me. when i wake up all alone, and i’m thinking of your skin, i remember, i remember what you told me. said that we’re not lovers, we’re just strangers, with the same damn hunger to be touched, to be loved, to feel anything at all.. she doesn’t call me on the phone anymore, she’s never listening, she says it’s innocent. she doesn’t let me have control anymore, i must’ve crossed a line, i must’ve lost my mind.. i miss the mornings with you laying in my bed, i miss the memories replaying in my head, i miss the thought of a forever, you and me, but all you’re missing is my body...

13. million dollar man - lana del rey.

.. i don’t know how you convince them and get them, boy. i don’t know what you do, it’s unbelievable. and i don’t know how you get over, get over someone as dangerous, tainted, and flawed as you.. i love you honey; i’m ready, i’m ready to go. how did you get that way? i don’t know. you’re screwed up and brilliant.. you got the world, but, baby, at what price? something so strange, hard to define. it isn’t that hard, boy, to like you or love you. i’d follow you, down, down, down; you’re unbelievable. if you’re going crazy, just grab me and take me. i’d follow you down, down, down; anywhere, anywhere.. i don’t know. you’re screwed up and brilliant, look like a million dollar man, so why is my heart broke?

14. somebody that i used to know - gotye ft. kimbra.

now and then, i think of when we were together. like when you said you felt so happy you could die. i told myself that you were right for me, but felt so lonely in your company. but that was love and it’s an ache i still remember.. so when we found that we could not make sense. well, you said that we would still be friends but i’ll admit that i was glad it was over. but you didn’t have to cut me off. make out like it never happened and that we were nothing. and i don’t even need your love but you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough. no, you didn’t have to stoop so low, have your friends collect your records and then change your number. i guess that i don’t need that though, now you’re just somebody that i used to know.. now and then i think of all the times you screwed me over, but had me believing it was always something that i’d done. but i don’t wanna live that way, reading into every word you say. you said that you could let it go and i wouldn’t catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know..

15. lurk - the neighborhood.

i want to be honest, i want to be bad. i want to destroy you, i want to move fast. i want the attention, i want all the cash.. i want to be faithful, i want to be raw. i want to be ignorant, i want to know all. i want to die someday, i want to live long. i want what i ask for, i get what i want. i’m thinking we should ride to a place that we don’t know, to a place where no one’s seen us before. i’m thinking you and i, better just go with the flow. last thing that we should do is go slow.. i think of the chances, i think that i’m wrong. i think to be thoughtful, i know that i’m not. you think i’m a fake, and i know you’re a fraud. i fuck ‘cause i need to, i fuck when i want. i’ll fuck you in love, even though it is not. i’ll fucking digest you one kiss at a time. you wish i was yours and i hope that you’re mine.. black and it’s white. everything’s white, but it’s blacker than i know. even blacker than the white of snow..

16. closer - nine inch nails.

.. you let me complicate you. (help me..) i broke apart my insides. (help me..) i’ve got no soul to sell. (help me..) the only thing that works for me. help me get away from myself. i wanna fuck you like an animal, i want to feel you from the inside.. my whole existence is flawed. you get me closer to god. you can have my isolation. you can have the hate that it brings. you can have my absence of faith. you can have my everything. (help me..) you tear down my reason.. help me think i’m somebody else..

17. creep - scala & kolacny brothers. (cover)

when you were here before, couldn’t look you in the eye. you’re just like an angel, your skin makes me cry. you float like a feather in a beautiful world. i wish i was special, you’re so fucking special. but i’m a creep, i’m a weirdo. what the hell am i doing here? i don’t belong here. i don’t care if it hurts, i want to have control. i want a perfect body, i want a perfect soul, i want you to notice when i’m not around. you’re so fucking special, i wish i was special. but i’m a creep, i’m a weirdo. what the hell am i doing here? i don’t belong here. she’s running out the door. she’s running out. she run, run, run, run. whatever makes you happy, whatever you want. you’re so fucking special, i wish i was special. but i’m a creep, i’m a weirdo. what the hell am i doing here? i don’t belong here. i don’t belong here.

18. somebody to love - queen.

can anybody find me somebody to love? each morning i get up, i die a little. can barely stand on my feet. (take a look at yourself in the mirror and cry) take a look at yourself in the mirror and cry. lord what you do to me. i spent all my years in believing you, but i just can get no relief, lord. somebody (somebody), somebody (somebody), can anybody find me somebody to love? i work hard (he works hard) every day of my life. i work til’ i ache my bones. at the end (at the end of the day) i take home my hard-earned pay all on my own (goes home on his own).. til’ the tears run down from my eyes, lord.. i try and i try and i try but everybody wants to put me down. they say i’m going crazy, they say i got a lot of water in my brain. no, i got no common sense. (he’s got) i got nobody left to believe.. got no feel, i got no rhythm. i just keep losing my beat (you just keep losing and losing). i’m okay, i’m alright (he’s alright, he’s alright). i ain’t gonna face no defeat. i just gotta get out of this prison cell, someday i’m gonna be free, lord..

19. supercut - lorde.

in my head, i play a supercut of us. all the magic we gave off. all the love we had and lost. and in my head, the visions never stop.. but when i reach for you, there’s just a supercut. in your car, the radio up. in your car, the radio up. we keep trying to talk about us. i’m someone you maybe might love. i’ll be your quiet afternoon crush, be your violent overnight rush. make you crazy over my touch. but it’s just a supercut of us.. so i fall into continents and cars. all the stages and stars, i turn all of it to just a supercut. ‘cause in my head, in my head i do everything right. when you call, when you call i’ll forgive and not fight. because ours are the moments i play in the dark. we were wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart.. we keep trying to talk about us. slow motion, i’m watching our love. i’ll be your quiet afternoon crush, be your violent overnight rush. make you crazy over my touch. but, it’s just a supercut of us.. ‘cause in my head, in my head, i do everything right. when you call, i’ll forgive and not fight. all the moments i play in the dark, wild and fluorescent, come to my heart..

20. sit next to me - foster the people

yeah, it’s over, it’s over.. got me praying, man, this hunger. feeling something rotten. last time i saw you said “what’s up?” and pushed right through. then i tried to catch you but we’re always on the move. and now it’s over, we’re sober. symptoms of the culture. and the night ain’t getting younger, last call’s around the corner. feeling kinda tempted and i’m pouring out the truth. just fading out these talkers ‘cause now all i want is you, just sayin’. come over here and sit next to me. we can see where things go naturally. just say the word and i’ll part the sea. just come over here and sit next to me and i’ll take you high. well, i ain’t frontin’ my intention, got your man outlined in chalk. it’s a midnight intervention, got no plans to make it stop. last time i saw you, said you wanna keep it light. but i’m here to tell you, i’m not trying to change your mind. it’s alright, it’s alright..

21. can’t get you out of my head - kylie minogue.

i just can’t get you out of my head. boy, your loving is all i think about. i just can’t get you out of my head. boy, it’s more than i dare to think about.. every night, every day, just to be there in your arms. won’t you stay? won’t you lay? stay forever and ever and ever and ever.. there’s a dark secret in me. don’t leave me locked in your heart. set me free, feel the need in me. set me free. stay forever and ever and ever and ever.. i just can’t get you out of my head.

22. i used to think that love was forever - koda.

pale winds flow in like a river. all my dreams are dying in the mud. all i know is painting pictures of you. and what remains in the dust falling at the starts better than falling in the dark. and i tore down my walls ‘cause you were all i’d ever want and i’ve got no more weapons i am bare down to the bone. and i’ve laid all my cards down ‘cause your hearts my only home. i used to think that love was forever. i used to think that love was forever before you. i used to think that love was forever but how could that be true now that i’m in love with you. cold winds flow like pleasure on my wounds and i will use your words to build my tomb. falling at the starts better than falling in the dark. and i tore down my walls ‘cause you were all i’d ever want. and i’ve got no more weapons i am bare down to the bone and i laid all my cards down ‘cause your hearts my only home.. i used to think that love was forever, i used to think that love was forever before you, i used to think that love was forever. but how could that be true now that i’m in love with you.

23. hit me baby one more time [feat. blu holiday] - j2 (cover).

oh baby, baby, how was i suppose to know? that something wasn’t right here. oh baby, baby, i shouldn’t have let you go. and now, you’re out of sight. show me how you want it to be, tell me, baby, ‘cause i need to know now what we’ve got. my loneliness is killing me, (and i) i must confess i still believe, still believe. when i’m not with you i lose my mind, give me a sign, hit me, baby, one more time. oh baby, baby, the reason i breathe is you. but, boy, you’ve got me blinded. oh pretty baby, there’s nothing i wouldn’t do. it’s not the way i planned it. show me how you want it to be. tell me, baby, ‘cause i need to know now what we’ve got..

24. when the party’s over - billie eilish.

don't you know i'm no good for you. i've learned to lose you, can't afford to. tore my shirt to stop you bleedin' but nothing ever stops you leaving. quiet when i'm coming home and i'm on my own. i could lie, say i like it like that, like it like that.. don't you know too much already. i'll only hurt you if you let me. call me friend but keep me closer (call me back). and i'll call you when the party's over. quiet when i'm coming home and i'm on my own. and i could lie, say i like it like that.. yeah i could lie, say i like it like that, like it like that. but nothing is better sometimes. once we've both said our goodbyes. let's just let it go. let me let you go..

25. the night we met - lord huron.

i am not the only traveler who has not repaid his debt. i've been searching for a trail to follow again. take me back to the night we met. and then i can tell myself what the hell i'm supposed to do and then i can tell myself not to ride along with you. i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. take me back to the night we met. i don't know what i'm supposed to do. haunted by the ghost of you. oh, take me back to the night we met. when the night was full of terrors and your eyes were filled with tears. when you had not touched me yet. oh, take me back to the night we met. i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. take me back to the night we met. i don't know what i'm supposed to do. haunted by the ghost of you. take me back to the night we met.

#t a da...#tsnedit #mine: playlist #mine*#film: the social network #tsnlyrics*#?? it can be counted ig..#mark x eduardo #otp: i want.. i need you

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greennightspider · 6 years

Text

Fated Instinct Chapter Six: Feast for the Eyes

Summary: Sequel to Cabin in the Snow. Akari finds herself in a predicament after an accidental overnight stay in a cabin grants her the title of fiance to the chieftain-to-be M’Baku himself.

Author’s Note: This took me a millennia yes I know but it is here I am bek and we are READY TO RUMBLE

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 19(2), Chapter 20, Chapter 20(2), Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Bonus Chapter 21.5

M’Baku x Akari(OC)

"Okay Runi it’s not what you think."

"Oh please." Runi scoffed and then grinned. "You were in a daze all breakfast looking like you were thinking about eating anything other than-

“Can we not do this in front of my little sister?” Akari hissed.

They both turned to Kaia who was casually fixing her braids into a bun. "C'mon Kari I'm eighteen give me some credit."

Both of them turned back and Runi folded her arms. "So what’s the deal hmmm?"

Akari sighed. "Look we didn’t go that far. But he was very...

“Big?”

“Considerate.”

“So do you like him?”

“What?” Akari’s voice went three times higher than normal.

“Simple question Kari. Do. You. Like. Him.”

Akari paused for a minute before answering, picturing the big burly bundle of laughs that was her former partner, who even before becoming betrothed to she had grown fond of. She half smiled at the memory of the previous night before catching Runi’s death glare. “Aaaand…. what if I do?”

“Hmm. Okay then.” Runi nodded before marching to the front door.

“Runi where are you going you just got here!”

“Oh don’t worry I’ll be back in a few.” Runi stated simply before slamming the door, leaving Akari nervous and Kaia munching on a handful of almonds, enjoying the morning entertainment.

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M'Baku was in such a good mood the next morning that everyone was left perplexed at the giant who hadn’t stopped smiling to himself. Even M’Baku’s boys had tried to grill him on why he was so chummy the next morning, until he spied Runi in the distance making a beeline for him. He tried to meet her halfway but Runi marched right up to M'Baku and grabbed him by the collar. "So listen here. My best friend is over hear sneaking out of her home, acting all smiley and shit telling me she likes you.”

M'Baku couldn’t help the smile that dawned on his face at the thought of his bedmate admitting she liked him.

"Nananannanah mate.” Runi snapped her fingers. “What you need to get through your thick head is that Akari’s never even liked someone before.”

Runi let go of his fur collar before continuing. “Look I ain’t gonna pretend that you didn’t save her life. But she’s like a sister to me. So if I ever find out you have someone on the side while stringing Akari along? Or Mr. Popular is being too friendly with other females and hurting her? I swear I will drop your ass so hard not even Hanuman could rescue you. Got it?"

M'Baku gulped. "Got it."

As he watched Runi storm away he thought about how Akari had all these people round her who would kill to protect her.

And M'Baku couldn’t really fault them because he would do the same.

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

"You come back to me."

These words rang in Akari's mind as she, Runi, and Kaia were trying to figure out what she was going to wear for the banquet. Runi and Kaia were already aware that Akari wasn’t much for dresses, or dressing up for that matter. Sure she had a few formal outfits but she never indulged in this kind of thing. If it wasn’t practical or didn’t have pockets for weapons and snacks, she didn’t see the need.

“What about this one?” Runi held it up to Akari’s body while Kaia inspected it through her thinly rimmed pink sunglasses that hid most of her face. “Nah, too flarey.”

Akari turned to her sister. “Kaia how did you even get sunglasses here? We live in the mountains.”

Kaia turned her face up to the sky ambiguously. “I have my ways.”

Akari dropped her shoulders and sighed exasperatedly. “Why does it even matter what I wear?”

Before Runi could school her Kaia jumped in. “Because Kari, this is going to be your first debut as M’Baku’s fiancé, in front of all the nobles and in front of the Jabari Tribe itself. You, are our future chieftess. We’re not the only ones who know that the betrothal wasn’t exactly planned, and as Zahkele already told us, there are rumours. We want to make sure people know that however it happened, you, are here, to STAY. We don’t want you looking like a clueless pawn, we want you looking like a queen.”

Runi and Akari both blinked at Kaia, before Akari raised her eyebrows and lifted her hands in defeat. “Well well well didn’t realize you were so good at strategizing.”

“Oh I learned from the best.” Kaia smirked before Akari lightly punched her in the arm. They all laughed before turning towards one market stall that left all of them at a standstill.

“Oh THAT one for sure.”

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

“Is everything set?” The hooded man whispered to his colleague.

“Yes. Everything is in place.” He replied, handing over a small red vial which the first man hid under his cloak.

“All praise to Hanuman.”

“Yes, all praise to Hanuman.”

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

Akari tried to take deep breaths as the banquet room opened up to her with glass walls showcasing the Jabari lights that covered the mountainside. The banquet itself was bustling with people Akari noted, slowly making her way around the room to one of the long tables laden with food, the crowd bustling with chatter and conversation. Akari spotted Nocawe eating a slice of banana cake who smiled and tried to make her way over before getting stopped by other guests. Akari had smiled back in reply, before turning to the table next to her eyeing the sweets.

Grabbing a vitumbua (making a mental note she had to stuff some in her purse because damn they were good), she slowly turned around to eye the guests. Nobles, advisors, highly ranked warriors, everyone of importance was here. Including M’Baku, who was slightly faced towards her across the sea of faces. He hadn’t noticed her yet, looking quite regal in his long black formalwear embroidered with dark red thread. Akari grinned to herself, about to make her way to him when she spied who he was in conversation with.

N’Ceba. The head of M’Baku’s little fanclub, smiling and chattering away with M’Baku grinning back. She had a dazzling smile and was well liked, I mean everyone knew her. Her father was a noble, so of course she would be in attendance.

Now normally, Akari was not a jealous woman, however a rage boiled deep inside her when she saw N’Ceba run her fingers through her hair and try to wrap herself around M’Baku’s arm like a sloth. She knew it was the instinct kicking in. Akari quickly turned around and rested her hands on one of the banquet tables behind her, trying to calm her breathing and not realizing she was gripping the dark brown tablecloth beneath her fingers. How dare she. How dare she touch what is MINE.

“Young one, are you alright?”

Akari was dragged out of her murderous thoughts by the soft voice of an older gentleman with kind eyes. He was dressed in a dark simple robe that hung from one side of his shoulder, indicating he was a man of Hanuman, and an advisor. Akari tried to compose herself. “Yes thank you, it can be a bit stuffy with all these people around.”

“Perhaps a drink to calm your nerves?” The old man offered a glass of what looked to be red cordial, and Akari accepted it gratefully. Akari knocked the drink back hoping it would calm her nerves before remembering her place and bowing to the man. “Thank you, Shaman, I am grateful for your kindness.”

“No need to thank me, betrothed of M’Baku.” The old man smiled. “All praise to Hanuman.”

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When M’Baku saw her from across the room he hardly recognized her. Her long soft curls fell loose and swayed with every movement, gently following the curve of her body. Her dress was beautiful, the pattern was a dark, off the shoulder, simple mermaid tail fit that complemented Akari’s effortlessness. The simple but delicate outfit spoke to the way she carried herself, wearing no jewelry but the very simple paint that speckled her arms and her eyes. Akari needed no fancy baubles or huge dramatic flares to prove she belonged there. All in all, she was stunning.

M’Baku wasted no time shaking off N’Ceba who had tried to snatch onto him and made his way over to her, leaving his circle of conversation wondering what or who had captured his attention. Everything became a blur to him. All he could focus on was her.

“It’s been too long, Kari.” He chuckled nervously, hoping that Akari wasn’t about to strangle him in the middle of this banquet. He didn’t know if she had seen N’Ceba try and cozy up, and while he normally would’ve played it off as friendly banter, Runi’s words flashed in his mind like a warning sign.

However, to his surprise Akari turned to him looking slightly dazed but smirking lustfully. Sliding her hands up M’Baku’s chest before wrapping them around the back of his neck, she slowly drew her gaze up his body and finally rested on his face.

“Oh yes it HAS, my love.”

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Akari’s Outfit:

*Akari out here walkin in like Rihanna* The dress issa mixture okay

Taglist: @skysynclair19 @junesbride @great-neckpectations @muse-of-mbaku @hippiesandpeacesigns @jackburtonsays @coonflix @hi-looo12@bonyg @romanceoftheeveryday @someareblindtoitsbeauty@wheredidallthedreamersgo @msblkshot710 @peaches-bbygrl@theunsweetenedtruth @blackpinup22 @airis-paris14 @macgruberrr@simplyyamberr @blackpantherreblogs @wawakanda-btch @im5ftbutmythroat66 @vanitykocaine @iamrheaspeaks @aykanna @laketaj24 @letsshamelessqueen-m

#greennightspider #fated instinct #m'baku fanfiction #m'baku fanfic #m'baku #black panther fanfiction #mbaku fanfic #mbaku fanfiction #AND THE PLOT THICKENS

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julia-highstorms · 5 years

Text

If Jane Was Here (Noah's POV) - Ch. 13

Summary: ILITW by Noah’s point of view. Previous chapter here

Disclaimer: all characters belong to Pixelberry Studios and some dialogues are from the game. Gender neutral MC.

Author’s Note: So… I guess I made a mistake in last chapter. Please, forget what I wrote about Noah taking Andy’s phone in the limo. Pretend that it never happened. And I'll be posting the final chapters + AU ending throughout the ILITW Appreciation Week!

Rating: M (you know... violence, death, etc)

Pairing: Noah x MC

Word count: 4447

Tagging @kurbqa-deactivated20180730 @miragemeister@yertletheturtle04 @mysteriouslady4 @klaudiana-beaumontkkreal @katiehawkeyebishop @melchann @hippiekiyay@lovethemarshalltwins @jadedpixiescribbles @gameofstrangerwars@american-duchess @blackheartdreams @indiacater @nuttatulipa@lcnelywclf @sazanes @mmmmmmyyyah @ietss

Chapter 13 - Fight or Flight

As homecoming descended to chaos, Noah shoved the wrong way through a panicking crowd, towards the stage. One of Jane’s beasts had just taken Andy away, leaving the boy’s phone behind.

Jane was working exactly accordingly to the plan. Okay, with more horror and violence and blood than he had anticipated.

Noah had just shoved the object inside his pocket, when he suddenly heard MC’s voice nearby:

“Noah… DUCK!”

Without thinking, the beanie boy did what he was told to and watched in shock as his friend stabbed the microphone stand into a vine creature’s hide like a spear, tangling it in electrical cords.

“Nice save!” - he murmured as they watched the creature falling over the stage, snarling.

“Come on!” - MC yelled, intertwining their hand with his, both of them running in the gym, locating the others amidst the chaos.

“Why is this happening?! These things shouldn’t be alive anymore!”

“Yeah, well tell that to them!” - Ava shout back to Lucas, pointing to the monsters biting and swiping and shoving through screaming bystanders, making their way toward the group of teenagers.

“They’re after us! The longer we stay here, the more people we put in danger!” - Lily glanced nervously around them.

“We have to get out of here!” - Lucas stated as Principal Flores’s voice cut through the noise:

“ Everyone, the hallway is clear! Get to the classrooms and lock the doors!”

“Come on!” - the gang joined the stampede for the exit… but the crowd bottlenecked in the doors, screaming and shoving as the monsters stalked forward. Jocelyn flopped a serving table, making a barricade. - “Jocelyn, what are you doing?”

“Shut up and run!”

The crowd squeezed out as the monsters pressed down on the girl, tearing the table to shreds, overwhelming her, claws and fangs sinking in her flesh.

“No! Someone help her!” - Britney screamed, tears rubbing down her face.

“AAAAH! AAH-AAAAH! I said RUN, you idiots!” - and then, Jocelyn vanished beneath a sea of snapping jaws. They all sprinted for the hall, pursued by blood-curdling screams.

The gang fled down the hall as screaming students and chaperones barricaded themselves inside classrooms.

“They’re right behind us!” - MC yelled, casting a glance over their shoulder.

“Book it!” - Ava shout back.

“...crap crap CRAP!” - was everything Noah could murmur. What Jane was thinking? He told her to just scare people away! Not hurt them!

“In here!” - Lucas pointed to the open auditorium doors. They swerved in, as some monsters went charging past.

Everyone doubled over, panting hard.

“Are they gone?” - Stacy asked. Lily’s face went pale.

“No… Look!”

Crouching, they peered around the doorframe. In the hall, one of the creatures slowed, its flaming eyes swivelled in their direction… Noah held his breath as the monster’s snout thrusted in over the threshold, an inch from Lucas’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m so done.” - before he could realise what was happening, MC jumped up slamming their elbow through the emergency box safety glass, and grabbed the axe in there. - “Hey, party crasher!” - the monster looked their way, startled as MC charged toward it. - “CRASH THIS!” - they yelled, swinging the weapon up and then down its neck, slashing through it, the blow so hard that the blade bit through the floor. The creature’s body crumpled, twitching beneath the axe blade. MC picked up its snapping head. - “That’s enough out of you.” - they said, before blowing its eyes out like candles, and its body fell still.

They all looked in both shock and amusement at them.

“Wow…” - Lily’s mouth was falling agape.

“Okay, not gonna lie… That was kinda hot.”

“Ava, focus.”

“Thanks for the save, MC!” - Lucas grinned at them.

“No problem.”

Once the coast was clear, the gang ran outside the building, school alarm bells screaming out over the parking lot.

“Now what?”

“What do you mean ‘now what’?” - MC looked over Stacy. - “Now we leave!”

“We came here in the limo, remember?” - the Class President reminded them.

“Damn it!”

“Oh boy, more running.” - the witch girl concluded with a somber face.

“I can’t take this…”

“Me neither.” - Noah agreed with Lily. His feet felt sore from all that running.

“It’s better than the alternative. Now come on, before—”

“Stacy!”

“Mom?!” - Mayor Green, disheveled and covered in scrapes, grabbed her daughter by the arm. - “What are you doing?”

“Getting you out of here! Now come on, all of you! There’s a storm shelter on the other side of the building. We can make it if we run!”

“No, Mayor Green, we can’t stay here!”

“Excuse me?” - the woman looked at MC as if they had two heads.

“Mom, I don’t have time to explain, but I need you to trust me!”

“Yes, because that worked out so well for me the last time.”

“M-Mom!” - the cheerleader’s eyes filled with tears. The mayor’s grip tightened on her wrist.

“Stacy, your friends can do what they want, but I am your mother, and you’re coming with me! End of discussion!” - Noah nervously looked at his watch. The longer they stayed there the worse things would get.

“Alright, Off-Brand Hillary Clinton, now you listen to me!”

“Ex-excuse me?” - Mayor Green released Stacy's arm, drawing back as MC stepped between them.

“Your daughter has been through hell for weeks trying to protect you. And she’s still doing it right now!” - the rest of the group watched in stunned silence the scene in front of them. - “But you know what? For the life of me, I can’t figure out why! ‘Cause it seems to me like all you care about is your damn image!”

“That… that’s not true! You can’t talk to me like that!”

“I just did! News flash, lady, you’re the mayor of a town whose population can fit in a football stadium! You’re not that important! So get over yourself and stop treating your daughter like she’s just a speed bump on your road to being someone who matters!”

“MC, what's gotten into you?”

“I’ve run out of patience for bullies.”

“Stacy, I… I didn’t know that’s how you felt about me.” - the woman’s face was red in embarrassment. - “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” - huh? Noah thought he saw something on the corner of his eye…

“I’ve tried, Mom. I’ve tried, and tried, and tried. You don’t listen, but—”

“Uh, hey everybody, not to interrupt Drama Club, but LOOK OUT!” - he yelled. Glass shattered as a dozen monsters exploded out the front doors, dreading their way.

“Mom, run!” - Stacy shoved her mom out of the way, and the creatures streamed after the teenage kids as they took off across the parking lot.

“They’re gaining on us!” - Lily screamed by Noah’s side.

“They’re ahead of us, too!” - Ava pointed.

“This is hopeless! There’s too many of them!” - Lucas starred panicking as they ran.

“Wait… What is that sound?” - the nerdy girl asked and a black muscled car exploded into view. Monsters crashed sideways over the hood as the car shrieked to a stop… and the driver door kicked open:

“Get in!”

“That was awesome!” - the cheerleader squealed in excitement as she saw her brother.

“Praise me later! I said get in!”

They all ran for the car. Connor hefted a tire iron and jumped out to cover them as the monster rose to their feet, eyes blazing with fury.

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?” - the older guy asked defiantly to a growling creature.

Metal clanged against bone as Connor smashed a monster with a backhand swing. MC jumped in the passenger seat as the rest piled up in the backseat of the car.

“Connor, let's go!” - they shout through the open driver door.

The blonde guy jumped in the driver seat and slammed the door. But before he could start the car, a moss creature lunged through the window, chomping into his side.

“AAAAAH!” - Connor stomped the gas and the monster wrenched out of sight as the car leapt up to speed and tore off out of the parking lot.

The car skidded around a corner, racing through streets downtown, Connor glancing into the rearview:

“How’s everybody doing back there?”

“Freaking out.” - Ava answered him. Lily nodded.

“Same.”

“Cool, glad we’re all on the same— nngh… page…” - he winced, holding his side as he drove.

“Connor, are you okay?” - MC asked from the passenger seat. The older guy flashed a charming smirk at them.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

“Are you sure? That thing bit you…”

“Don’t worry about it. If I start turning into a zombie, one of you guys can just kill me.” - Noah rolled his eyes. They didn’t have time for that chitchat. They had to go to the woods.

“On it.” - the witch girl said, waving the tire iron.

“There, see? All under control.”

Cop cars went rocketing past, sirens screaming, headed toward the school.

“Hello, guys, can we focus on the fact that monsters kidnapped Andy?!” - the beanie boy reminded his friends. They definitely shouldn’t be there, piled up in a car. They should be going to the woods, and not to wherever the hell Stacy’s older brother was taking them.

“And if the monsters are back, that means that Mr. Red is back too! And that means the ritual didn’t work!” - Lucas still was freaking out by Lily’s side.

“But why? We did everything we were supposed to!” - Stacy asked from his other side.

“I don’t know. But until we figure it out, we can’t just charge in. If we go up against Mr. Red without a plan, we’re as good as dead.”

“So is Andy if we don’t go after him!” - Noah reminded the Class President. Typical. That was so typical of Lucas. Trying to to free his cowardly ass from everything.

Lily gasped sharply st a sudden realisation, everyone turning to her.

“I just realized… If these things came after us, they might have gone after Dan, too!”

“Crap, you’re right! We have to go to the hospital and get him before they do!” - the beanie boy rolled his eyes as Stacy professed those words.

“We don’t have one for that!” - it was useless. Dan would probably be with Jane at this rate. - “We all need to—”

“CONNOR, LOOK OUT!” - the cheerleader screamed and her brother winced as the car swerved toward the edge of the road, the passenger mirror exploding against a street light.

“Damn!” - the driver cursed, jerking the wheel, steering back onto the road, and slamming on the brakes. He grunted, gripping his side.

“What are you…”

“Guess that bastard at the school got me better than I thought…” - Connor said before MC could finish their question.

“That settles it. Connor, get in the back. Lucas, you drive. We’re going to the hospital.”

Noah grunted in frustration but said nothing. That dude was hurt and bleeding his guts out. But the longer they took to go to the woods, he knew the worse things would be…

Jane was here.

They sped to the hospital and parked outside. Noah and Lucas helped Connor through the doors… but as they entered the lobby, they found it eerily empty.

The boy with the denim jacket felt a cold shiver running down his spine. Jane had already been there.

“What the hell?!” - the older guy screamed, his hand on his side. Lucas looked around in confusion.

“Where’s everyone?”

“I frickin’ knew it! No one ever listens to Noah!”

Jane was here.

“Someone check Dan’s room!” - Lily shout as MC already ran down the hall, the girls following them close behind.

The two boys helped Connor down a chair near the desk, and went to sit in the waiting area. None of them said anything, each one lost in their own thoughts. Noah glanced nervously to his watch again.

They looked up as Ava, Lily, Stacy and MC entered the lobby.

“Was Dan there? Is he okay?” - the boy with glasses asked right away, both of them standing up.

“What does it look like?” - Ava scowled at him.

Noah swore, pacing. He knew it. Jane had already been there and took Dan. They were just wasting time there.

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t the ritual work? We did the goblets, the incantation, all of it! Desfiles was sealed!” - Lily cried in desperation.

“Maybe We did something wrong?” - the witch girl asked her.

“That can’t be… Can it?”

“No. We did it all right.”

“Yeah, exactly!” - Lily beamed to MC’s firmly reply. Ava agreed:

“Okay, yeah. I thought so too. But if it wasn’t a mistake, then what? You think the old lady got it wrong? Misremembered the spell or something?”

“No. I think Cora gave us the ritual just how she and her friends did it back then.”

“But?”

“Maybe it’s different for us. Maybe we were supposed to do something else.” - Noah stopped pacing and looked at MC. They’d always been the clever one of them all.

“Like what?” - Lily asked them, who frowned:

“I don’t know…”

Noah rolled his eyes once again. They didn’t have time for speculations.

“None of this changes anything. Now we just have two people to rescue.”

“Yeah, but still no plan for how to stop this.”

He glared at Lucas:

“Look, I don’t know why Redfiled’s loose any more than you do, but that doesn’t matter right now. ‘One crisis at a time’, remember? And right now, the crisis is, Andy and Dan have been kidnapped. We need to go after them. All of us. We can sort the rest out later.”

“We could be dead later if we don’t figure out why this is happening!” - Lucas snapped back at him.

“You both need to calm down.” - they heard MC’s calm voice. Noah turned to them, seeing red:

“What are you, a marriage counselor?”

“No, MC’s right. This isn’t helping.”

The beanie boy stared at the other boy with a few seconds, before letting out a sigh, collecting himself.

“Yeah… Alright.” - picking up fights would only be worse and harder to get all of them to the woods.

Connor cleared his throat:

“Hey, guys, I hate to interrupt, but can I get a word with MC real quick?”

They all nodded, everyone scattered around the room as MC headed towards the desk. Noah paced grouchy toward the doors, feeling Andy’s phone weighting inside his pocket.

That was useless. They were just wasting their time there.

Jane was here.

Suddenly he sensed someone approaching him and stopped waking pivoting in the steps direction. It was MC.

“Are we leaving yet?” - he asked, not hiding his impatience.

“Just a few more minutes. Are… you okay?”

“Peachy.” - he said sarcastically, before shaking his head with a huff and going back to pacing… from the door… to the window… to the door…

“Hey, Noah, talk to me.” - he rolled his eyes. Again.

“Yeah, let’s all stand around talking about our feelings for an hour, that’ll help.”

“Okay, point taken.”

And then, MC turned around to go… but he didn’t want them to go. They didn’t deserve to suffer all his anger. They were the only one who always tried to help everyone and do something. The one who gave a damn to what happened to Jane. The one who truly cared about him.

“...No. Hang on.” - he took a step toward them, putting a gentle hand on their shoulder. Their eyes (those eyes that always made him feel a little anxious when they looked through him) met his. - “I’m sorry.”

MC nodded at him, wordless. He sighed and headed to the window, leaning against the frame and staring out at the street. Wondering about what Jane probably was doing by now.

“What’s going on, Noah?” - his friend asked, standing beside him.

He wanted to tell them everything. About Jane being Mr. Red. That they, all of them, had to go to those ruins in the woods. But MC would never believe him. And the gang would never agree to go there. They had already left him and Jane alone before. They would likely do the same again.

“Nothing.” - he said instead. “I just… I want to get out of here and get this over with. The sooner we finish it, the sooner everything goes back to normal.”

“‘Back to normal’? Back to normal how? Do you mean all of us not talking?”

Noah frowned at them.

“No, come on. You know what I mean. Earlier than that. Like when we were kids. Before…”

“Before Jane died.” - MC finished the sentence for him. He looked away, his heart aching. - “Noah, whatever happens with us and Redfield… it won’t bring her back. Some wounds don’t heal. They just become scars.”

The boy slumped against the window, his breath fogging the glass, obscuring his reflection.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it before. Jane’s gone and there’s nothing we can do about it.” - oh, MC was so wrong. So dead wrong.

Jane would be back. If they all went there… and played together one last time. She would be here.

Jane was here.

He kept talking:

“It’s just… I don’t know. I can’t get it out of my head. How it’s not right. It’s not fair. Jane didn’t deserve that.”

Maybe… maybe he was the one who should have gone year ago. Not her.

“None of us deserved it.”

MC was wrong again.

“Maybe we did. Maybe we should have done more to stop it.” - he rubbed at his eyes, feeling tears welling up there. - “Maybe it should have been me…”

If Jane was here...

Things would be better. Their mother always liked her more than him. His friends liked her more they liked him. MC liked her more than they liked him.

Noah? Noah was just so damn unlikeable. So useless. He was a dead weight in everyone’s life.

“Noah… hug time.” - MC pulled him into a sudden hug, cutting him off mid-sentence. The boy choked onto a sob as he felt their arms around him, holding him tightly. - “Noah, listen to me. We’re going to get past what happened, and we’re going to survive this.” - MC’s whispered calmly and somewhat reassuringly into his ear and he let his tears run freely. Tears of pain. Of sadness. Of shame. Of guilty. - “All of us. Together. Do you hear me?”

Together.

That was a nice dream. A beautiful and impossible dream.

“Yeah… Yeah, I hear you…” - he pulled away, sniffling back snot and rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. - “I think I’d like to be alone for a bit.” - a small smile tugged in the corner of his lips. - “But… thanks for coming over here. And for putting up with me.”

“I don’t ‘put up’ with you, Noah. You’re my friend.” - MC smiled brightly back at him.

Friend...

“Yeah, I know.” - his grin left as soon as it came. - “Same here…”

MC squeezed the boy’s shoulder affectionately before walking away. Boa resumed pacing.

What a great friend he was. Just about to lure them into the woods. And face Jane in that game.

But this time things would work. They would all be free from that frickin’ curse. Jane would be free. And his friends too. They would all go onto their lives. Happy and safe.

And he… he would face the consequences. He would be in Jane’s place.

It had to be him. It was the only fair thing to do.

Things would work this time. They had to.

Noah glanced to where his friends were. Lily was the one most nearby, sitting in a chair near the front doors, her hands folded in her lap. She seemed a little less terrified. Probably MC had talked to her before going to talk to him. Stacy was behind the reception desk, frantically rooting around, while Ava sat with her back in the wall, a pile of magazines from the waiting area in front of her. Lucas and MC talked in front of the soda machine.

Seeing that everyone seemed distracted, he stopped by the window, his back turned to the room. He took Andy’s phone from his pocket, staring at it for a few moments here typing something down.

Andy: “help me”

“...Andy!” - MC shout and everyone snapped to attention at the sound of his name.

MC: “omg Andy! where r u?!”

He kept texting on the Asian boy’s phone:

Andy: “I’m hiding near the ruins”

Andy: “I got away from those things but they’re everywhere”

MC: “r u okay?”

Andy: “please you have to help me”

Andy: “hurry”

Andy: “and bring everyone”

Noah shoved the phone back his pocket and joined his friends standing behind MC, reading over their shoulder. No one noticed that he wasn’t around before.

“Well, that’s definitely a trap.”

“Seriously. How dumb does Redfield think we are?” - Stacy agreed with Ava.

“It doesn’t matter.” - Noah put up a somber face. - “We don’t have a choice. At least we know what we’re walking into.”

“As much as I hate to say it, Noah is right.” - to his (and everyone’s) surprise, Lucas was the one who said it.

“Okay. Let’s roll.” - a few feet away, Connor sit up and pulled on his jacket.

“Roll where? You’re not going anywhere.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” - Stacy scowled back at her brother. - “You’re too hurt, Connor. You’re staying here.”

“The hell I am!” - the blonde guy started to get out of his seat, then groaned and staggered forward.

“Whoa, hey!” - Noah caught him mid-stumble and eased him back into his chair. That guy was in no condition to go with them. - “C’mon dude, don’t be stupid. You’re too messed up to help. And honestly you’d probably just slow us down.” - he knew those words were harsh, but were true. Besides, they didn’t need more people involved in what was going to happen. That wasn’t Connor problem to solve. It was Noah’s and his friends’.

“Oh, fine…” - the guy fished in his pocket for his keys and held them out to them. - “Just… Just take my car and go. I’ll hang here. Wait for the doctors. And the cops.”

“Connor… thank you.”

“Hey, no problem. I got to look like scream badass for a minute here huh?” - he smirked to MC.

“Yeah. You sure did.” - the older guy tossed them his car keys.

“Hey… Be careful.”

“I will. See you soon.”

“You better.”

MC motioned to them and they all started toward the door.

Lucas drove them to MC’s house. Outside there, the teenagers piled out of the car and started across the backyard.

“Remind me what the plan is?”

“Go back to the ruins”. - Lily replied Lucas. Stacy kept telling the plan:

“Rescue Dan and Andy.”

“Kill anything that gets in our way.” - followed by Ava.

“Is everybody ready?”

“Not even remotely.” - Lucas answered MC’s question.

“Well, that makes literally all of us.” - the witch girl frowned.

“Let’s do this.” - Noah said, putting on a determined face.

Shoulder to shoulder, the gang marched across the yard…

“But first…”

“MC, where are you going?” - Lily asked nervously as they all watched their friend swerving into another direction.

“Just making a quick detour!”

MC entered their family’s shed, exiting it a few moments later.

“Wow…” - Noah murmured, seeing all that arsenal they took with them.

“MC…”

“Holy crap…” - Lily and Lucas were stunned too.

“That’s a good look for you.” - Ava grinned and Stacy asked:

“Who are you, The Terminator?”

“What can I say? I prefer to face my demons armed to the teeth.” - suddenly they saw a black and white blur running out of the shed after them. It was a smiley dog. - “Hilda, whatever are you doing?”

“Looks like she wants to come along.” - the Class President stroked Hilda behind her ears. Lily casted a nervous glance to the dog:

“Is that safe?”

“None of this is safe.” - Ava stated. - “But I definitely feel better with a dog.” - she bent to pet Hilda. - “Especially one this cute!”

They heard another noise and saw MC’s kitten toddling eagerly out of the shed.

Holy crap, did MC have a zoo in their shed?

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, not you too!”

“How many animals do you have in there?” - Lucas took the words out of his mouth. Stacy stopped to scratch the small cat, who meowed happily.

“Aww, she wants to come too!”

“That’s cute.” - Lily smiled. - “But we definitely can’t bring a kitten along. No matter how brave she is.”

They all jumped as they saw a moss creature bounding out of the woods.

“Twiggy! There you are!” - MC greeted the beast in recognition.

“You have… kind of a lot of pets.” - Noah said, watching the monster and the dog circling one another, sniffing.

“Tell me about it. This is getting ridiculous.” - Luna his behind MC’s leg, eyes wide and ears back, staring at Cora’s creature. - “Aaw, is my big brave killer jaguar afraid of Twiggy?”

Noah couldn’t really blame the kitten:

“Yeah, gonna be honest, that thing kinda freaks me out.”

MC chuckled by his side.

“ Well, I’m glad he’s around. We need all the help we can get.”

Suddenly, Hilda tensed, baring her teeth, Luna arched her back and Twiggy’s eyes blazed angrily.

“What’s going on?” - Noah looked confused at MC’s pets.

“Something’s coming. Everyone, get ready!” - they all turned towards the trees...

...And stopped dead at the sight of a shadowy figure, standing at the edge of the woods.

“Um… Everyone else is seeing this, right?” - Lily asked her friends. Noah’s mouth fell agape:

“Is that who I think it is?”

“It can’t be…” - MC covered their mouth with their hand.

“Mr. Cooper?!”

“StUdeNTs.” - the figure grinned at them. Lucas shook his head in denial:

“It’s not him. It can’t be him!”

“Mr. Cooper?! It’s a trick!”

“Yeah! He’s just another one of those dirt monsters!” - Noah agreed with MC.

Their professor’s eyes widened with glee.

“WrONg.”

“What do we do? If it is Mr. Cooper, we can’t hurt him!” - Stacy asked, her eyes never leaving the man in front of them.

“Everyone, relax. All we have to do is wrestle him to the ground and knock him out.”

“Y-yeah! There’s six of us and one of him!” - Lucas tried to follow MC’s brave face.

Mr. Cooper shook his head, clicking his tongue. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

“WrONg aGaIN.”

And then, another figure stepped out of the trees.

“MorE of Us in HeRE.” - Ben, the school’s basketball captain, said, his eyes blazing and his sling gray, just like Mr. Cooper’s.

And another figure.

“ALL of Us in HeRE.” - they recognised Andy’s best friend, Tom.

“Oh god… it’s tecoatients from the hospital!” - Lily murmured.

“But that means…”

Crooked fingers gripped the bark of a tree. From the shadows, something clawed its way into the light… and one more figure stepped forward.

“HeLLo frIEndS. CoME to PLaY?”

#if jane was here #ilitw appreciation week #noah marshall #it lives in the woods #ilitw #playchoices #ilitw noah #ilitw fanfic #playchoices fanfiction #choices fanfic

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shatteringzimmermann · 6 years

Text

Part 13

crossed 28k with this so i’m thinking we might end up several thousand over my goal. yay!

also i realize that having so many parts is a little obscene but hey that’s what happens when you start writing with zero planning. when it goes up on ao3 it’ll be more logically spaced.

Parts One & Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve /

The next week passed easily enough. Jack felt better every morning. He wasn’t sure if it was because his head was healing or because every time the sun came through the curtains to their- his, he reminded himself belatedly - bed Bitty was there too. He’d even been there the morning Jack got the final okay from Liam to begin full practices again. Jack’s lips were halfway to Bitty’s cheek when he remembered he wasn’t supposed to do that. Bitty had pretended not to notice but a flush spread across his cheeks. Liam, the asshole, had just grinned at Jack. Thanks to Tater, everyone in the building now knew who Bitty was and, also thanks to Tater, was rumored to be Jack’s boyfriend.

No one had actually asked Jack about it, so he didn’t correct the story. He didn’t want to either but the guilt was beginning to eat at him. The Falconers had a game two nights from now that he could stand in their pre-game meeting and announce the truth. And probably flip Tater off in the process.

“Do I really need three different kinds of pasta?” Jack asked, looking at the boxes Bitty had dropped in his cart.

“Depends,” Bitty responded as he scrolled through the list on his phone. “Do you want your dinner to look right and taste good?”

“Eh,” Jack trailed. “I mean…”

“Mr. Zimmermann.” Bitty cocked his head to glare at Jack. “You best be about to say yes.”

Jack fought the grin threatening to break his face in two. “Yes.”

Bitty hmmphed and pulled the front of the cart down the aisle. “That explains why you had one container of cooking spices and six bottles of siracha.”

“Those are Shitty’s!” Jack protested, allowing himself to be pulled along.

“Uh huh.”

“I also ran out of a few spices the week before my concussion so in my defense-”

“Don’t even try,” Bitty drawled. “And get those two jars of that off the top shelf, will you?” He pointed to some sauce Jack had never heard of. The glass jars clinked against each other as Jack put them in the cart.

“Guess it’s a good thing I’ve got you, eh?”

If Jack hadn’t been looking at Bitty he would have missed it: A pause in motion, a freezing of Bitty’s heart, the white-knuckled grip on his phone. It disappeared with the grace of someone getting up after a pad-less slip on ice. Bitty put on a smile that didn’t make the corners of his eyes crinkle like it should have.

“Sure thing.”

Over dinner (grilled chicken with a brown sugar rub? Jack couldn’t figure out why someone would even consider trying that but it was delicious.) Jack brought up his upcoming game. He and Bitty sat at the kitchen bar/counter area Jack never really knew how to label. Bitty could sit comfortably on his side, but Jack, on the other side, had to either twist his legs to the side against the cabinets or spread his knees and scoot as close to them as he could. Neither were particularly comfortable, but at least this way he could pretend this was a meal between friends. Sitting next to him would have been too much temptation. Jack knew himself well enough to know he’d spend even more of the meal looking at the bare skin of his legs below those damn shorts.

“Shits and Lardo will be there. Want me to grab you a ticket too?”

Bitty put his fork down. “Jack…”

The perfectly sweet chicken soured in Jack’s stomach. He hadn’t meant to do anything romantic, he was honestly just asking if Bitty wanted to come to the game. Was it too much? Did he- God, did he have a date with someone else?

Bitty stared at the table, his napkin twisted between his fingers.

After a too-long pause Jack spoke. “I – I need you to say it. Good or bad, please, just – just say it.”

“This mornin’ when we went to your appointment I heard Tater when we passed the locker room and he was tellin’ everyone I was your boyfriend.”

That old guilt ricocheted up Jack’s spine. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell him you were. He…” Jack waved his hand in the air. The words stuck in his chest so he swallowed his heart from where it’d lodged in this throat. “Assumed. I should have corrected him and I didn’t. That’s my fault. I’m sorry. I was planning on making an announcement before the game so that the guys would back off.”

If anything, years of therapy had taught Jack how to make a thorough, concrete apology. When he glanced at Bitty he expected to see a soft smile edged with relief, but Bitty was still staring at the table.

Jack clenched his jaw. He ached to put his hand on Bitty’s. He wanted to pull him from the confusion and hurt that flickered over his face but he couldn’t, he promised he wouldn’t. So he quietly put his fork down and waited.

Minutes passed.

If Jack waited any longer his heart was going to shatter his bones with the force of its pounding. “Bud, I’m sorry to interrupt-” Fuck, what was Bitty even doing? Thinking about Beyoncé? Trying to come up with a way to get out the door without Jack knowing? “Well, I want to help. With, eh, whatever is bothering you.”

Silver lined Bitty’s eyes. Within a single beat of his too-anxious heart Jack was on the other side of the counter, sliding onto the stool next to Bitty.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Bitty seemed to melt a bit. His shoulders slumped forward, his head hanging low between them. The wrecked napkin shredded between his fingers. He sniffed.

Jack’s hand was on Bitty’s back before he comprehended what he was doing. Bitty stiffened for a second but didn’t pull away.

“It’s stupid,” Bitty said. It was barely a whisper.

“If something is bothering you enough to cry it’s not stupid,” Jack pointed out.

Dark eyes met his and Jack thought his heart might have been breaking for a new reason. Seeing Bitty like this, halfway to broken, hurt more than anything Jack had been forced to deal with. The problems Jack had dealt with had been ones that he’d had an immediate hand in and knew how to fix. But this? A crying Bitty in his kitchen, of all places? Jack was standing on the edge of a sea-side cliff, screaming to an ocean that roared back with noise and violence but no answer. No fix. No idea how to make it – Bitty- better.

“I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to talk about it now,” Bitty admitted, wiping at his face. “I keep thinking about the ways this could go and all of them leave me lookin’ pathetic.”

“How about this: you tell me whatever it is that’s bothering you, even if it takes all night, and I’ll just sit here and listen until you get it all out. I won’t laugh at you. I won’t think you’re pathetic. I promise I’ve been feeling the exact way you are right now and I know it’s not fun.” He slid his hand up to gently squeeze the muscles of Bitty’s shoulder. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

A strangled noise escaped Bitty’s throat. He clapped his hands over his mouth as more tears spilled from his eyes. Jack stood and slid his free arm under Bitty’s knees, picking him up and walking to the couch. Tears dampened his t-shirt before he could sit them on the cushions. Jack was more concerned with that than the twinge that still stabbed in his knee.

Jack sat with his arms still around Bitty. He kept Bitty’s legs bent across his lap and Bitty’s head on his shoulder. He moved his hand up and down Bitty’s back again, trying to be soothing but also wait out the pain that was so built up inside Bitty.

It didn’t take long, thankfully, for the tears to slow. Jack grabbed Bitty the box of tissues off the side table. Bitty tried to lean away to wipe his face and blow his nose but Jack’s gentle hand on his back didn’t let him go far.

“Sorry I ruined your shirt,” Bitty mumbled into Jack’s collarbone. Jack glanced down because he didn’t even remember what shirt it was. Plain white crew-neck he’d gotten a pack of from Target a few years ago.

“It’s okay,” Jack promised.

A few moments later Bitty spoke again. “I’m gonna say this in a rush otherwise I’m not gonna be able to get it out so listen close cause I can’t say it twice.”

Jack nodded.

“I’m gonna open this with I know it’s stupid but it’s all I’ve been able to think about for a week so please don’t hate me for it. And then I’m gonna say that like, two week ago, you were begging me for a date and I said not until you were better so I waited and now you’re healthy and it doesn’t seem like you still want me now that you know me a little better. It’s stupid I know and I’m not asking for a pity date cause that would be terrible for both of us, this is just what’s been in my head all day so I needed to get it out.” He shifted against Jack’s side, swinging his feet to the floor. “I’m just gonna clean up and then I’ll head out, okay?”

Jack’s fingers snagged in his shirt. “Wait, where are you going? Why are you leaving?”

Bitty wouldn’t even angle his face toward Jack. “I’m embarrassed as hell, Jack. I’m not gonna stay and have my heart break even more but my momma raised me better than to leave dirty dishes behind when I’m a guest.”

“No, no, I mean,” Jack started. His mind still raced around the words Bitty had said. Not wanting him? “Bitty, wait, I didn’t think you wanted me to.”

That made Bitty look over his shoulder at Jack. “I’m in your bed every night,” he pointed out, face flushed.

Jack was sure his cheeks matched. “I know, but, eh, you don’t lie close to me anymore. And if I wake up before you think I’m awake I can feel you pulling away.” Because even though their nighttime chats hadn’t stopped, Bitty had stopped reaching across the bed for Jack’s hand. He’d stopped sharing the same air as him. But every morning so far they’d woken up so tangled in each other that whenever Bitty had to separate himself it woke Jack. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so I didn’t say anything.”

Bitty’s eyes finally met his. He chewed his bottom lip but didn’t say anything.

“Go on a date with me,” Jack said in one quick breath. “Please. I want to take you out to dinner or to a movie or to do anything you want.”

The beginnings of a smile touched Bitty’s lips. He nodded, still biting his damn lip, and when Jack glanced down at it he couldn’t look away. Bitty’s cheek was warm and just barely damp against his palm. He brushed his thumb over Bitty’s lips, the bottom one slightly swollen.

In the dreams they’d shared Jack had always felt some sort of indescribable connection to Bitty. It’d been why he wanted Bitty after his concussion and why he felt so comfortable around him so quickly when most of his teammates hadn’t even been to Jack’s condo yet.

But now? On top of that initial connection there were so many more threads pulling him toward Bitty. The late night talks, the way Bitty’s hair glowed in the daylight, the way he’d quietly but completely turned so much of Jack’s life completely upside-down; they may have met because of those dreams but they sat on the couch, Bitty’s face cradled in Jack’s hands, because of everything that had come after.

Jack moved slowly enough to let Bitty pull away as he leaned in. Bitty’s fingers tangled in Jack’s still-damp shirt. After two shared breaths Jack pressed his lips against Bitty’s.

Warm, gentle, perfect. It couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds but Jack pulled away, nearly gasping. He was sure Bitty could hear how hard his heart pounded, but for once it wasn’t because of his anxiety. He searched Bitty’s face for any signs of discomfort but Bitty just stared back, just as breathless.

“I haven’t kissed many people,” Bitty admitted quietly. “But that didn’t feel like a regular ol’ kiss.”

There were no words fighting to escape Jack, no emotions threatening to spill over until he spiraled. He dragged his thumb over Bitty’s cheekbone and kissed him again. And again. And again.

Jack wasn’t sure how many minutes passed when they sat back. Bitty pulled his legs up and across Jack’s lap, snuggling into Jack’s shoulder like he had been earlier.

“It wasn’t,” Jack said. At Bitty’s cocked head he continued. “I’ve kissed a few people,” Jack admitted quietly. “Not many either, but enough to know that…” He shook his head. “I feel like I just skated an entire period by myself. I never really believed in the magical fireworks that fairy tales tell you happen with a first kiss but now,” he said, pressing a kiss to Bitty’s forehead. “Now I’m second-guessing that.”

Bitty exhaled and melted into Jack’s side. “Oh thank God. I thought it mighta just been me feelin’ that way.”

“Not at all,” Jack said. He laced his fingers with Bitty’s, smiling at the way their hands seemed to fit together perfectly.

It was the truth. Maybe those shared dreams and that initial connection had something to do with it, but Jack’s entire heart and soul responded to that kiss. And the ones after. There was a sliver of something bright shining within himself now, radiating from somewhere that had been so tough and guarded before. Every nerve in Jack’s body seemed to be zinging from one end to the other.

He wrapped his arm tightly around Bitty’s back and pressed another kiss to his forehead. Bitty tilted his head back and wrinkled his nose at Jack, smiling. Jack kissed that, too.

#omgcp #check please #omg check please #zimbits #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #soulmate AU #this part was written in like 3 hours which is really damn good for me #anna is lame

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diabolicalworldwriter · 3 years

Text

Tagged by @aelin-ashryver-galathynius. Thank so much I’ve honestly wanted to do one of these since finding out they were a thing! so this is an exciting moment lol.

1. what do you like to be called name-wise? My name’s Karina tho I mostly just go by Chich as a nickname among friends. call me either one! (If you have special privileges, Loser, Chbich, Trash and a few others I won’t name are also options lol)

2. when is your birthday? December 15. (so it’s coming up soon. excited to not be the same age and finally have the family privileges of a older than fifteen year old ngl)

3. where do you live? haha creep. in a pineapple under the sea. (i’m kidding, in the USA tho I’m hoping to move to another part of it with my sister in the next year or two.)

4. three things you are doing right now? you assume I can multitask. if you mean right now right now, I’m breathing, typing and watching my brother attempt to antagonize Haikubot on my Discord notifications. if you mean like projects, I have like twenty unfinished books and art pieces and a few friends and I are attempting to make a video game. so that’s pretty fun.

5. Four fandoms that have piqued your interest? welp. I post a lot about the cosmere. um. Shoot I’m really indecisive..... I like Marissa Meyer’s books a lot (and also there are such sweet people in the TLC fandom), I’ve probably liked about a thousand Miraculous Ladybug posts (they’re so cute tho...) so that one... crap. Percy Jackson.

6. how has the pandemic been treating you? *smiles emptily but also cries in idk if this is the reason my depression got thirty times worse or not but here we are.*

7. a song you can’t stop listening to right now? does Kay’s rendition of I’ll make spearmen out of you count? for the moment, I’ve listened to Soldatino by Paola Bennet like fifty times and I still get Nico feels. My sweet gay emo child...

8. recommend a movie? hmmm. I really like the Emperor’s new groove, it’s beautifully bizarre.

9. how old are you? 15 years old but only for less than a month and then I get to be not that lol.

10. school, university, occupation or other? Homeschooled though I’ll pretend that writing trashy stories that I’m too depressed to finish and drawing random art is a job. I also work with a teen health/suicide prevention group which is pretty good. all the members are depressed and trying to not be by making others happy cause we’re like that.

11. do you prefer heat or cold? cold. I don’t like the heat. at least I can bundle up and drink hot cocoa and soup and eventually I’ll go numb and die. :)

12. name one fact others may not know about you. depends on what others. How about If I want to suffer I can put both my legs behind my head (or, one leg behind my head and the other behind that leg’s foot) before remembering I have a somewhat effed up spine? (don’t quote me on that, who knows how long I’ll keep being able to)

13. are you shy? not unless I’m around something living. Or dead. basically if we ever meet in person expect me to be under a table or in a dark corner and I’ll only say something if I think I desperately need to or get called out.

14. preferred pronouns? she/her

15. biggest pet peeves? human beings in general I don’t like parents or siblings invading my room, I don’t like when my family leaves out all the food or milk so I end up putting it away... people who give me a schedule last minute and expect me to be good with that really pisses me off ngl and I really don’t like people putting their dirty hands or feet on me stuff I guess. idk. I usually just suck it up and deal with stuff tho cause I can’t really change it without being not a doormat.

16. what is your favorite “-dere” type? *pulls up google in a moment of dumbness cuz... what* hahaha idk??? google why did you confuse me more

17. rate your life from 1 to 10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be. hmm. don’t want to disrespect my demons... I’m really bad at rating things. mmm. let’s go with 5 with a side of breakdowns, guilt issues and overreactions.

18. what’s your main blog? You’re looking at it.

19. list your sideblogs and what they’re used for. I’ve been on Tumblr since like late September I think. I haven’t started any other blogs yet so... “Wow! I use @diabolicalworldwriter as a multi-fandom blog, @diabolicalworldwriter for random trash and @diabolicalworldwriter for... whatever other thing I feel like.” I’ll probably get another one if I ever get a book published so I can put my author crap there and not pollute this place of my fandoms.

20. Is there something people need to know about you before become friends? other than the fact that it’s not gonna last long, they’ll regret it, I have some slightly excessive guilt issues, am awkward AF and if I ever start talking I’ll overshare? none at all my dude.

Tagging @cerenoya and @silvermagpie0 I guess? Any of my followers who want to, feel open to do so as well. have at it.

#tag game #this was pretty fun #if any of you guys wanna do it go ahead #it'd be fun to see what you say #have a nice day #thanks for tagging me #ily all #an effing long post #chich is chattering again

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renny-lithium · 6 years

Text

y'all wanna know something that's completely fucked up?

i'll tell you, here goes.

when i was in secondary school, i hung around with a couple of girls i considered to be my best friends.

here's the fucked up thing - i never realised it until after i stopped hanging out with them, but they didn't even consider me their FRIEND. to them i was just 'that weird girl' that hung around with them, because we'd been 'friends' since primary school.

you wanna know how i realised this? various things.

for future reference, i will refer to them as S and E.

the one thing that stands out to me is this one time when i got put into a group project with S, and her reaction was to complain about everyone she'd been dumped with - including me. i was standing a foot away from her, staring at her, while she complained about being put in a group with ME. she later asked if she'd done something wrong, because i was suddenly keeping the fuck away from her and not talking to her or E, and i told her "you made me feel like i'm unwanted" and her reaction was basically "get over it".

another thing is how they treated me, aside from that incident.

here's a bit of trivia about myself - during year nine, when i was like 13 or something, i was selectively mute. no one actually bothered to do anything about it until the teachers noticed me using my made-up sign language to talk to someone, but you wanna know how my so-called 'best friends' reacted?

they ignored me. more or less pretended i didn't exist even though i was right there, and if i ever did force myself to speak (i often pretended i had a sore throat just to avoid having to speak) they acted like they never even heard me. also, whenever i got out of class before them, i ALWAYS waited for them. because i wanted to walk with them, because they were my friends, and i didn't like walking alone.

wanna know what they did? they didn't do that.

one time i specifically remember asking them if they could please, please wait for me after class, because i hate walking alone in a sea of people who hate me for no reason, and they said they would - cut to the end of class and they walked out, i expected them to be waiting outside, but they were already long gone before i get out of the classroom.

there was also the way they treated my other friends, ones i made without their 'help' or introduction. there was this kinda lonely girl who i'm gonna call SO, and at some point i guess i introduced her to my so-called 'friends'. this one time i was sitting with my so-called 'friends', without SO there because she was doing whatever, and they were talking shit about her.

i don't remember exactly what it was they said about SO, but what i clearly remember is them suddenly realising that i was sitting RIGHT FUCKING THERE and they turned to me and said 'don't tell SO we said any of this'. like they were threatening me.

at that point i began to wonder if they talked shit about me behind my back, cus if they did it to someone who actually cut herself on a regular basis and silently suffered an abusive public relationship with a dick that didn't deserve to exist, what were they saying about me?

one more thing - i was bullied literally all the time at school. it got to the point where i would actually try to fake illnesses or use the first one or two days of my period as an excuse to actually not go, out of fear of being bullied and humiliated every five minutes by everyone, even complete strangers, who knew about me only because i was 'that weird girl that's an easy target for everyone'.

no one ever stood up for me. not even SO, but i can forgive her, because she had far too many issues of her own to deal with - but S and E had no such problems. Their lives were, in comparison to mine and SO's, absolutely perfect.

and yet, even when i was being bullied RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM, they never did anything to defend me. i was basically incapable of defending myself, purely because i knew that if i tried i'd only make it worse (though on a few awesome occasions i got pissed off enough to physically attack whoever was bullying me, or i would just simply walk out of the classroom even if the lesson had only just started).

so basically my so-called 'best friends' didn't give a single solitary fuck about me, and i'm ashamed to admit that i never figured this out until year eleven, when i was 15, and i stopped hanging around with them.

i thought my life would change when i stopped hanging with them, but guess what? it didn't. everything was still the same, i was still getting bullied every day, i occasionally had relapses into selective mutism and no one gave a fuck, i also tried to fake illnesses to get out of school, but you wanna know what actually did change?

as i began to look back on how my 'friends' had treated me, i began to get angry. not angry enough to actually do something, like when i would attack someone or walk out of the classroom, but the kind of burning anger that's incredibly dangerous because there's nothing you can do about it and the people responsible aren't even aware that it's their fault or that they've even done anything wrong.

so basically S and E ruined over half of my life and they probably didn't even notice or care.

i made a promise to myself that i would never, ever speak to them ever again - and i almost kept that promise, except for one incident during sixth form when, surprise surprise, S was in the same tutor group as me and she tried asking me for some help with something.

i don't think she even knew why i was glaring at her.

this story has a bittersweet ending, actually.

fast forward to now, and i've switched from sixth form to college (and lemme tell y'all that was the best decision i ever made in my entire life). i'm now in second year, halfway through, and basically everyone in the class is my friend. even those i don't particularly know very well, i consider them my friend - because we share common interests, and they actually don't bully me.

here's the bittersweet part - i'm waiting for them all to turn on me. i'm waiting for that one moment where i fuck up, and suddenly i'm the target for bullying once again.

i also have a friend who i consider to be my best friend ever, but i'm not sure if he considers me to be his best friend (i know he considers me a friend at least, otherwise he wouldn't let me follow him around like a lost puppy half the time). when class ends and it's time to go home, i'm usually out of the classroom before him, and i've sworn to myself that i'd never abandon anyone the way S and E did, especially if i think of them as my best friend.

sometimes, though, he's out of class before me.

and he always waits, unless he needs to be somewhere, in which case he actually he tells me beforehand and i'm happy to walk to the bus station without him.

but i never asked him to wait for me, because i assumed that he wouldn't bother. i assumed - and still do assume - that he's gonna walk off and abandon me like S and E did, because even if i ask, no one wants to wait for me.

but he does. he waits. and i continue to be amazed at that, even after an entire year and a half.

oh, and another thing - and this is actually a really nice thing.

you know how i said i went selectively mute in year nine? i forced myself to get over it the next year because i didn't like going to the school's shit version of therapy (which did nothing except make me realise that it'd be easier to pretend i was okay rather than actually be okay).

over the past few months i've been going through some very, very tough family shit, and i'm always switching between 'terrified as fuck' and 'too tired to care anymore'.

it has nothing to do with college, but i've gone back to being selectively mute again.

the reaction of all sixteen of my friends? they're actually nice about it. if i speak, they don't patronise me and they actually listen to me. if i don't, and i use some other means of communication, they will make genuine attempts to understand me and they don't act like it's a chore for them.

one memorable occasion was before christmas, and there was this guy from another class using the macs in our classroom to get his work done - one of my classmates introduced him to me, and said "she's a bit quiet, but she communicates in her own way", and all i could think was "now THAT'S how you do it".

they're all also genuinely concerned about the reason why i've suddenly gone absolutely silent when, the previous year, i was basically the craziest person in class.

i love these people. they're my friends, my real friends - but i'm burned by my past experiences with people who i also called 'friends'.

i'm still waiting for them to decide i'm not worth their time and that it'd be easier to laugh and point at me rather than try to help me. i'm still waiting to be abandoned by my new and real best friend, who i believe just tolerates my presence.

so, everyone, you're probably wondering - what was the point in me pouring out my heart like this?

i'll tell you.

i've realised that i'm not the only person who this kind of shit happened to. i'm not the only one who was constantly being left behind by people who were supposed to be their friends.

so i'm writing this, even though i'm not very well known by anyone on Tumblr, and i'm hoping it gets reblogged enough for people to look at their fellow students or even co-workers, and wonder 'how do their friends treat them?'

or maybe it's enough to make people realise that they're the ones this is happening to, or maybe give them enough courage to say 'fuck you' to their supposed 'friends' and walk away with their heads held high.

or alternatively, if you don't want to say it because you're too scared or too shy, just walk away and never speak to the abusive bastards ever again.

this shit can damage people forever. it can and will lead to suicides and pure depression.

it's not okay. stand the fuck up, everyone - those who see it happening, those who it's happening to, just . . . fucking everyone, stand up and tell the bullies and 'friends' to go and fuck themselves with a mace or something.

Renny, out.

#bullying #bully is not okay #fake friends #and i mean actual fake friends #abandonment #i have serious issues and i can't do shit about it #selective mutism #making a stand #hoping this gets thrown around so people can fucking see it #bittersweet

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breziarchive · 7 years

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a punch a day keeps the yakuza away

i ain’t got time to proofread shit this is majimakoto fic one of eight billion that i finally actually finished

post-0 or whatever, rated pg, pg-13? fuck it! it’s fluffy but it involves cutscene typical violence. the kind of cutscenes that, i don’t know, don’t destroy you viscerally maybe? it’s 4am.

extreme disclaimer that the title is a misnomer.

~~~~

Makoto let out a small hum of relief, relaxing her shoulders as she found the crowds dispersed as she made her way to her subway platform. The rainy season was just letting up, and since people were seeing the sun for the first time in well over a month they were taking every opportunity to walk or bike their way around the city. Granted, she was going home early. Work was slow enough that she could leave it in the hands of her assistant, and at his behest she took a half-day. It was the calm before the storm, after all. Good weather meant more strain and injuries from more outdoor activities—soon her cozy little clinic would be overrun with groaning sportsmen and older individuals under the presumption that they were still in their youth for the summer.

But for now, she could take a half-day. Go home. Enjoy the weather and the relative silence of the subways on her way there. Her eyes were mostly healed but colorful city crowds, coupled with the noise, tended to overstimulate her to headaches if she remained in them for too long. It had been long enough that she resigned herself to the idea that she'd always have this problem. At least it was more of a nuisance than a curse.

Her spine coiled up, thrusting her shoulders up and her chest out as she heard whooping calls and hollers from the cavity of her subway platform. It sounded vulgar and low-life. It sounded like yakuza. She felt her muscles become iron piano wires in danger of damage due to hyper-tension as the first elbow of a flashy suit came into her vision. A group of about six or so men, ranging from just below her in age to perhaps several years above, were rough-housing on the platform, near enough that their shoes more than once stepped onto the yellow strip meant to caution people away from the tracks.

Makoto quickly swept her eyes around the platform. Only a ragged elderly man snoozed on a bench facing the opposite of the yakuza and where her train would be arriving—and from the looks of it, he had been there for a while and probably missed his train twice over. Essentially, it was just her and the yakuza. She inhaled a steely breath and readjusted the position of her jaw.

She had survived much worse situations.

The yakuza seemed too preoccupied with their brand of horseplay to pay her much heed as she stood for her train, far away from them. Ducking her chin, she pulled out a novel from her purse and slipped the bookmark between her fingers as she pretended to read. Her eyes skimmed the pages, minimal information was given, she flipped the page, she continued to listen to the pack next to her. Several of them had loud voices, but one seemed more grating than the rest. Her ear seemed particularly tuned to it, and each word he said made claws rake down her skin. It was like he was unhinged, unpredictable—mad. Even if the cadence to his words were jovial and over-the-top even for Kansai, there was something immeasurably off about the screech to his voice.

With no warning the soothing but loud chime in her wristwatch went off. Makoto tried not to jerk so hard in surprise. Usually it went off to remind her to break for lunch or she'd forget, but with her taking a half-day, it decided to serenade proudly to everyone on the platform. Her, the still-sleeping man on the bench, and the pack of yakuza to her left. Resisting the urge to clamp a hand over her wrist, she clenched her jaw and pretended not to notice the chime, pulling the book closer to her nose as if she'd look more convincingly engrossed. To her dismay, as the chime continued the yakuza's ruckus simmered down to harsh, assumedly lewd whispers as they were finally forced to turn their attention to her.

Before the chime had even died out she saw the pack begin to move in her peripherals, spreading around her until the only escape was the track, and even that was blocked off by a battering ram of a young man.

“Hey, sis,” one of them addressed her, and she wished she could've pretended to ignore it but the anxiety drove a spike into her neck, striking the piano wires rigid and forcing her to look up from her book with a stony gaze, “That's a cute li'l song. Won'tcha play it again?”

The yakuza talking to her had a flashy blue pinstripe suit, topped with a coral tie that had some sort of stain at the tip. Makoto narrowed her gaze and her voice was polite but strained.

“It plays at specific times of the day.”

“What, time fer you to get onna train? Don't they have schedules for that?”

“Oi, where y'off to anyways?” the one to her side prodded, “'Specially on a day like this? Yer too pretty to be hoppin' trains when it's sunny-shine out.” He looked to be one of the older ones, with a brain so knocked about that one corner of his lip seemed permanently limp.

“I'm avoiding the crowds,” Makoto answered, flicking her gaze between the encroaching wolves, “Crowds like this one.”

“Hey, don't it take like, fifty people to make a crowd?” one piped up. His suit was far less flashy, and she got the impression it was because he did a lot of rolling in the dirt.

“No, you idiot, two's company, three's a crowd, it's basic math—but we all know you failed math,” another snapped. Technically, the style of his suit was the sharpest out of all of them there, but the colors and the composition of the patterns clashed so harshly he might as well have been colorblind or fashionably lacking in areas that weren't proper grammar and tailoring.

“That applies to relationships, not law-abidin' cityfolk, bozo-brains,” another half-sharp reply, from a freshly-made adult with short, fat lips and slick hair.

Makoto grunted. Inane though it may have been, the banter was only serving to twist the wires tighter.

“Hey, what's got ye all scared?” the latest yakuza turned to her, “I just said we're law-abidin' cityfolk, what y'got to be afraid of?”

“Plenty,” Makoto growled despite herself, “Please leave me alone.”

“No need to get so cold, sis,” the first one said, “There's plenty o' places to go fer a lady like you, but we're waitin' on a train, here. We already mentioned the sunny-shine,”

“If you're waiting, then please wait somewhere else. There's a whole platform, and I'd like to be alone, please.” she reiterated, clutching her novel so hard the pages bent. The slick-haired one stepped forward and grabbed at her book, forcing her attention as his voice oozed poisoned honey.

“Hey, but it's dangerous for a lady to be alone,” he said, “We could protect ya, easy!”

“For sure!” The dirt-roller nodded, “All's it takes is a small fee or two!”

“We could start at, hmm,” the grammar-brain said, obviously cunning enough to be the brains behind this, “30,000 yen an hour. How does that sound?”

“Each,” Blue-suit pitched in, “Otherwise we'd be splittin' it so much we couldn't afford no ramen to beef our muscles for ya.”

“I don't need protection!” Makoto yelped, curling herself away from the yakuza, relinquishing her novel to the slick-haired one to do so. Baring her teeth though it wouldn't do any good, the whites of her eyes showed as more than half of them began to chuckle.

“Shure ya do!” Limp-lip proclaimed as Dirt-roller moved forward, “Or we're gonna show ya why ya needs it!”

Makoto's breath felt cold as the wolves closed in. Closing her hands into fists, her mind raced as every lesson and memory raced through her head. It was too late to wish for something different. Her nails bit into the flesh of her palm as she tried to keep each yakuza in her sight. The old man on the bench was still asleep, and suddenly she got a pang of fear that they had murdered him quietly before she got there. Brain firing all cylinders in panic, she felt her heart race the likes of which it hadn't since she was last in a life-or-death situation.

A harsh, crazed peal of laughter sliced through the tension and all the yakuza flinched and righted themselves, half out of fear, some out of embarrassment it seemed. All bowed (or cowered?) and moved out of the way in respect as a tall, wiry man stepped forward. Silver-tipped boots clacking on the concrete platform with each stride, the alpha yakuza barely seemed to notice the sea he was parting. Arms, long and lanky, were casually slung over a well-loved, well-beaten bat that had scuffs and stains that could not have possibly come from baseball. His clothes clashed with everything decent in the world—a harsh, snake-skin jacket that moved freely about his bare chest while his leather pants clung a little too tellingly along his legs. A gold chain graced his collar beneath a neatly-trimmed beard pulled sideways in a lopsided smirk that hung on a dangerous pause. Most significantly, though, was the patch covering his left eye. Makoto froze in recognition, wide-eyed stare moving from the patch to meet his remaining eye. Once, several years ago, that eye had gazed at her with such sadness she was almost sure he knew her better than anyone had any right to. Now it was almost condescending, looking down on her from a throne. She blinked. Long ago he had saved her from a similar situation, but here he was at the helm of the wolves. Maybe he didn't recognize her, but either way she was ready to sneer back and bite at that throne, for this was the yakuza with the unhinged voice. All the other ones were lackeys, but her heart knew true danger when she saw it.

He opened his mouth to speak, and the remaining cloud of smoke from the cigarette he had been nursing while his lackeys tormented her escaped, making him look like a demon, “Ain't you boys been listenin'? The Miss says she don't need yer protection.”

Malicious laughter rippled through the yakuza, making Snakeskin's eye gleam. Something was off about it, like everything else that was off about him. Off-beat, out-of-tune with his pack—and somehow he seemed aware of this.

Tipping his feet upwards and bending forward so that most of his weight was on his heels as he lowered his face to be more in-line with hers, bat still set parallel to his shoulders, he hummed with a smile, looking her up and down. Scrutinizing without changing his expression, he continued, “Hmm, yup, I'd say protection is the last thing the Miss needs,”

More laughter, but some of it slowed—particularly from Limp-lip, whose eyes started to widen as he took an extra step back. Some of the other ones that seemed to hold more experience were catching on to something not quite being on the same beat as them, and they started glancing at each other nervously. Makoto's heart raced, but she didn't dare take her eyes off of Snakeskin. If the other yakuza were unsure of what was going to happen next, then she should be even more afraid. She should run. Bolt. Go back upside and throw the half-day in the trash and go back to work. Despite her inner thoughts she willed herself now to cower and kept her back straight and her expression firm as it was unwavering. Snakeskin craned his neck closer, tipping it at an angle as he continued to hum study her. A grin split his face like it was elastic and she wrinkled her nose at his narrow, discolored teeth.

“S'nice melody though, really. Does it warn ya of danger?” he split his cadence as if it was in time to the watch's melody, but his memory was poor and his notes even moreso. Makoto brought her wrist up with the watch in question and grasped it protectively.

“It warns me that I need lunch.”

A peal of laughter from Snakeskin, but the other yakuza didn't know what to do or say, suddenly transfixed in worry at the scene unfolding before them.

“Oh! A big mouth! A big, big, biiig mouth!” Snakeskin celebrated, “Where'd ya learn to have a mouth that big, Missy?”

Makoto couldn't help her voice becoming dark and hateful, “Running into people like you.”

“Oho!” The white of Snakeskin's eye showed around his iris as he laughed from his stomach, whooping until the singular oho's became a string of them, echoing in the empty platform. Some of the yakuza began to laugh again, though whether because they were nervous or eased it was hard to say. Makoto narrowed her eyes. His harsh laughter pierced her ears, painful and infuriating. He was laughing at her, like she was some cute innocent dolly out of place in the action figures' section. Anything to shut him up, to kick at that throne, so she wouldn't have to deal with him and his irritating voice anymore. Why it was irritating she couldn't say, it was just something in the air he breathed, she supposed. No matter. She was high-strung from the encounter and she had to wrestle control back into her hands. (After all she would not, could not be taken lying down again.)

Makoto slapped the cheek of his ruined eye and cut his laugh short.

“Hey! You bitch!” Slick barked along with his comrades suddenly calling for her blood for such insolence. All of them rolled their shoulders forward like they were going to fight a bear, not gang up on a girl, and Slick moved faster than any of them, youthful face snarling in rage as he lunged.

Makoto flinched as wind rushed past her, shutting her eyes for one terrifying moment where everything was blind again. Too afraid to keep them closed, she opened them, and her lips pursed together in shock.

The blunt end of the bat Snakeskin had been toting was now wedged in the precious, fleshy gap between Slick's jawbones. Snakeskin was glaring but his smile was wide, eye gleaming with what Makoto could only describe as unchecked rage though his voice was the same as ever.

“Oh, my bad, Ogawa-han,” he drawled, “I forgot that a bat's longer than a knife.”

Shoving him backwards into his neck, he swung the bat in a comfortable circle and it resumed its place parallel to his shoulders for his arms to rest on as Ogawa collapsed on the ground, sputtering desperately for air without being able to use his tongue for words. Dirt-roller began sizing imaginary objects with his hands, the dim light in his head brightening until he realized what the others did—Snakeskin did not just forget the length of the bat. And if he did, then that would mean that the blade of the knife was headed for Ogawa's throat anyways. Makoto felt her limbs freeze from the outward in. She had instigated the violence—was she now fair game?

“Nahh, you disappoint me, Missy!” Snakeskin ignored the rest of the yakuza as he hung his head and shook it, “If yer gonna hit a man, hit a man, like ya really mean it! We ain't duelin' with pool noodles, y'gotta put some snap into your slap!”

Everyone, Makoto included (though excluding Ogawa, who was still writhing on the ground) gave a distinct, bewildered eh?! Snakeskin frowned at her, continuing to lecture.

“You just dragged yer fingerpads 'cross my cheek like you were a toddler who ain't got the concept of personal space yet. Y'call that a slap? Y'gotta wind it up!”

He gestured with the bat, bouncing it up and down on his far shoulder, “Imagine if home-run hitters just swung with their arms. They'd get nowhere! They swing with their whole body—all the way! If yer gonna throw down, y'best be bringin' yer A-game like that!”

Makoto stared at him in wonder the more he lectured, rolling his shoulder and doing demonstration swings with the bat that made every lackey around him nervous and step back. She held her ground, his words melting to mush in the background. There was still condescension in his eye, but she was starting to realize that there was something behind it—something a bit more true to form, something closer to the day he rescued her from the yakuza accosting her on the street.

Only one way to see what was behind the mask.

“Jeez, is this how they teach women nowadays? Back in th' day you'd see grannies with grips of steel right terrifyin', this is just pathet—,”

Makoto reeled back and threw everything she had into another slap. Mid-word Snakeskin's head snapped to the side, spittle flying from his mouth as he stumbled back on one boot. The bat swung down on his own instinct, catching him like a third leg before he fell completely to the floor.

“B-Boss!!” his lackeys cried, all jerking like they meant to leap forward to help but too wary of the consequences. Some of them shot glances in her direction, but none of them dared to lunge at her as Ogawa had sufficiently become catatonic for the time being on the ground. Snakeskin was quiet. The namesake of a jacket hung at a wonky angle from his shoulders, revealing the tattoos on his pectorals to also be snakes. She briefly wondered if that's all the tattoo was or if there was more to it. The curiosity didn't last as Makoto quietly damned herself as he poked the cheek she had now slapped a second time and turned so his good eye could see her.

There. A flash of something else in his eye, but it wasn't cruel or enraged or upset. Pure something, and from that something he smiled. It soon split into a maniacal grin as he began to cackle once more, but she had seen it in the precious few seconds he had given her.

Yeah.

He most definitely recognized her.

Snakeskin righted himself, still laughing, “Now that's what I'm talkin' about!” The lackeys looked on, dumbfounded, though Limp-lip started to crack a smile that was almost genuine as he looked between the two players on the stage.

“Li'l bit of practice and you'll have men spinnin' to the pavement! Awright, Missy, hit me agai—,”

Makoto did without hesitation, curling her nails so they raked across his flesh. Snakeskin yelped, pinwheeling backwards into Dirt-roller and Blue-suit. The bat clattered to the floor, nearly tripping Snakeskin completely before he found his footing with the help of Dirt-roller. Raising a gloved hand to his cheek, he looked at her in complete and utter shock as he gingerly pressed against the scratch marks that were starting to ooze blood.

“O-Oi,” he stuttered, “Nails are next week's lesson.”

Makoto felt the eyes of every yakuza on her as she straightened her shoulders, now strangely relaxed despite everything, and replied, “I learn quickly.”

Another smile that came from that something that Makoto was having a hard time naming. His voice still annoyed the ever-loving shit out of her, but she was getting the nagging feeling that it was because of something other than its initial repulsiveness. Snakeskin righted himself, straightening his lapels as he bent down and picked up the scarred bat. A train arrived—not hers, but the one the yakuza were waiting for in the first place. Snakeskin swung the bat onto his shoulders, turning away from her.

“Motozawa, stop gawkin' at the Miss like you got a slappin' fetish. Hey, someone drag Ogawa into the car,” he ordered, “I ain't comin' back for his sorry ass.”

She watched them pile into the car, one by one by dragging-Ogawa's-sorry-ass one. Though Snakeskin had swaggered in, as soon as it seemed he was clear of her he slumped onto a seat, bad eye towards her. Spreading his long legs outward so no one could even consider sitting near him, he leaned on the bat like it was a cane and pressed his forehead to his folded hands on the pommel. His lips were pulled into a frown that was more than just a natural resting state, distorting the scratches she left on him. It looked painful for reasons she was sure she didn’t know about.

The train sped off. Somehow this was the one thing in the entire world that jerked the old man behind her awake. She barely listened as he turned, standing up and hobbling over to her to ask the time. Glancing down at her watch, she gave the answer in a distant voice, transfixed by the ticking second hand.

S'nice melody though, really. Does it warn ya of danger?

Did it warn her of danger, or did it draw it to her?

She wiped a smudge from the glass face. Perhaps a little bit of both?

Makoto reminisced on the sadness of his eye coupled with the ferocity of his attacks as the station announced her trains arrival within the next two minutes.

Perhaps a little bit of both.

#yakuza #yakuza 0 #ryu ga gotoku #majima goro #makimura makoto #makoto makimura #goro majima #the lackeys aren't any particular characters in general #AT LEAST I HOPE THERES NOBODY NAMED OGAWA AND MOTOZAWA #IF THEY ARE THESE ARE NOT THOSE #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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fieldsofplay · 4 years

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Top Albums of 2019

Top Albums of 2019.

25. William Tyler – Goes West

For those of you reading along, I want to thank you for sticking with this blog for basically an entire decade at this point. Jeez, where does the time* go? To that end, I’m gonna put out a decade list sometime next week, so to keep my sanity somewhat in check, this years tops list is going to be a little more abbreviated than usual. A few less records, a few less words, but still the same self indulgence you’ve come to know and expect. To that end, William Tyler. Tied for my favorite cover art with IGOR. This is beautiful finger-picked cosmic acoustic guitar music with some nice flourishes added by Brad Cook and the usual suspects. Perfect for fall days. I accidentally heckled him at a concert about the Andy Griffith show, but I was only trying to say he shouldn’t be ashamed about liking that program. The shame still haunts me, much like this music. *A fictional social construct

24. Floating Points – Crush

Now I’m not going to sit here and pretend to know much about electronic music. I don’t know the deep history, I don’t know the technical lingo, but like pornography, I know it when I hear it. Much has been made about the impact opening for the XX and being limited to minimal gear while doing so had on Sam Shephard, and I’ll admit the differences from Elaenia is palpable. Where that album felt minimal, Crush is maximal, bursting with colors and ideas, not unlike the beautiful painting that adorns its cover. I never quite knew what the phrase Intelligent Dance Music was supposed to mean, but to me, that’s precisely what this is. You could dance to “LesAlpx” if you wanted, or you could just throw it on headphones and drift away to its unceasing pulse. Find you a man who can do both.

23. Nerija – Blume

Let me be the first to tell you that jazz is back! Centering largely in London, there is thrilling music being made by the likes of Sons of Kemet, The Comet is Coming, and this year, by Nerija. Breathing new life into a long moribund form (at least until Kendrick Lamar started featuring jazz musicians on his albums), Blume literally does just that, unfurling jazz from a long dormancy. While I’m not normally a fan of the guitar in jazz, here it keeps the whole thing moving forward, as the horns swirl around in a supportive role and the percussion cooks. “Riverfest” is the best exemplar, as the guitar chimes with joy while the cymbal-crashes enliven the vibe.

22. Florist – Emily Alone

A tale as old time (song as old as rhyme): member of ambient-electronic band puts out solo acoustic album, about the sadness of moving to LA and finding oneself. No one is reinventing the wheel here, but I can’t help but feel little touches of Florist’s electronic full-band output in Emily Sprague’s solo record—the way the words repeat, subtly, but building meaning with each little phrasal repetition. Plus, the ocean is a recurring image, and dear lord do I miss the sea. If you want to listen a sad girl sing sad songs accompanied by acoustic guitar, you aren’t going to do better than Emily Alone this year.

21. Kevin Morby – Oh My God

Possibly the best Kevin Morby record? No one else would say that, but I will. If so, why is it so far down the list? Well, when you consistently put out amazing records year-after-year it becomes difficult for any individual album to make an imprint on the “culture.” I think “Seven Devils” is possibly his finest tune.

20. Sacred Paws – Run Around the Sun

My friend David turned me on to this band right before I was about to embark on a road trip up north in the middle of the summer, and let me tell you, that was the perfect time to first experience Run Around the Sun. Noodly guitars burst out of every seam on this record, as bubblegum lyrics tie the whole shebang together. If you ever wondered what the Shangri-las would sound like if Johnny Marr played lead guitar, I give you Sacred Paws.

19. Jamila Woods – Legacy! Legacy!

On Legacy! Legacy! Woods takes the R&B of the excellent Heavn and applies a jazzier sheen, to excellent results. One need look no further than the track titles (“Frida,” “Miles,” “Basquiat,” “Baldwin,” “Sun Ra” etc.) to see that Woods is consciously engaging with the titans of history, and here, while she doesn’t exactly reach the heights of those innovators, she certainly begins to carve out a legacy of her own as one of the best voices in a currently thriving R&B scene.

18. Mt. Eerie & Julie Doiron – Lost Wisdom, Pt. 2

On Lost Wisdom, Pt. 2 Phil Elverum (of The Microphones) and Julie Doiron (of Eric’s Trip) recapture the magic they bottled on the first Lost Wisdom back in 2008. It is hard to imagine sparer music than this, but the duo make so much of a pair of voices and few plucked guitar or banjo lines. As with all of his music of late (for obvious reasons), loss hangs all over Elverum’s output, but here, the loss is more mood and less of a literal presence (with the exception of the blistering “Widows”). Few songs I can think of capture a single, specifically odd phenomenon quite like “When I Walk Out of the Museum.”

17. DIIV – Deceiver

As capital-G guitar music recedes further into irrelevance, it’s good to still have a band like DIIV kicking around, who make shoegaze like it’s still 1991. And it’s a good thing they are still making their beautiful walls of feedback, as heroine has repeatedly knocked this band off the rails of what appeared to be a very promising career. This is ominous, portentous music, that swirls with white noise and black despair. Shoegaze is premised on making beauty out of the squall of overdriven electric guitars, and DIIV make beauty of the squall of 21st century opiate addiction.

16. Earl Sweatshirt – Feet of Clay

Earl continues the excellent experimentation of Some Rap Songs in the (slightly) more structured Feet of Clay. Whereas Some Rap Songs felt like fragments, the tracks on Feet of Clay (almost) feel like “songs” proper. Earl continues to quickly sweep the ground out from underneath you, whether it’s in the form of oddly woozy backing tracks that can’t really be called “beats” or the sub 2-minute run times, but he seems to pack slightly more structure into those abbreviated entrants, even if there are a lot less of them than there were on Some Rap Songs. Right now no one is pushing the boundaries of hip-hop like Earl, and each new release, even if the total run time is under 15 minutes, is a thrilling event.

15. Better Oblivion Community Center – S/T

Yes, last year I had Boygenius as my number one record, but if I’m being frank, and I am, this is the better collaborative album put out by Phoebe Bridgers. At first blush a record between the up-and-coming Bridgers and the largely has-been Conor Oberst seems like a desperate grab at continued relevance by the latter, but having seen them live, I must admit the pairing makes perfect sense. The energy between the two is infectious, and while they share a common fascination with emo, they really draw the best out of each other. Bridgers plays the Emmylou Harris role from I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning to perfection, and Oberst plays the Kenny Rodgers in “Islands in the Stream.” For a period I could not turn on Radio K without hearing a song from this album, which is strange because, as a college radio station, every hour is usually completely different.

14. Chromatics – Closer to Grey

In a certain way, Chromatics are victims of their own tendency towards self-mythologizing. Their last two official albums were absolutely perfect slices of Italo-Disco, equal parts late night ennui and seething dancefloor longing. There was way more guitar on those albums than most anyone would appreciate on first glance, and yet Ruth Radelet’s smoky vocals were unquestionably the star. In the interim Johnny Jewel (the mastermind behind the band and basically everything on Italians Do it Better) famously destroyed all the copies of the long teased Dear Tommy after a near death experience, provided essential music to Twin Peaks: The Return (which included multiple Chromatics performances at the dear Road House), and then suddenly dropped Closer to Grey out of the sky, with neither warning nor fanfare. This record is everything you would want a Chromatics record to be, but perhaps that is part of the reason it didn’t really make a major impression. It felt a little Chromatics-by-the-numbers, right down to the cover of “The Sound of Silence” to open it up. I absolutely love this album, and if it weren’t for the incredible quality of albums put out this year, it would certainly be a top-10 or top-5 in any other year (hell, in the terrible-for-music 2018 it would have been number one by a mile). Perhaps the biggest frustration is just how fucking good “Light as a Feather” is. It hints at a version of Chromatics influenced by Portishead, and now that’s all I want more of.

13. Thom Yorke – ANIMA

Doubt it if you will, you sneering youngsters, but Thom Yorke and his more well-known band are currently making some of the best music of their careers. Just as A Moon Shaped Pool was a much needed return to form after the completely forgettable King of Limbs, with ANIMA Yorke gets back to what made The Eraser so compelling all the way back in 2006. While a fondness for Aphex Twin is no longer at all exceptional in rock music in 2019, it was in 2006, and with ANIMA, Yorke gets back to the creepy, clicky, paranoid distrust of modern consumer culture that is solidly his wheelhouse. Bonus points for using Netflix and a pairing with PTA to make America care about a long form music video again in 2019.

12. Black Marble – Bigger than Life

I would call black Marble my favorite new band of the year, but the thing is, they aren’t new, just new to me. Bigger than Life is their third record, and first for Sacred Bones (whose distinctive album art is what first caught my eye). Because their music is comprised solely of arpeggiated synths, melodic bass, and clinking drum machines, overlaid with melancholicly narrow vocals, it is easy to accuse Black Marble of being a little same-y. However, if you, like me, worship at the temple of New Order, than this is the band for you. I have lived with their three extant albums the last couple months (the second, It’s Immaterial, being my favorite), and in reality, this is really the only music I want to listen to.

11. Big Thief – U.F.O.F. / Two Hands

If you’re reading this than you likely already know how much I love Big Thief, and you might be a little surprised that one, if not both, of the records they put out this year is not sitting atop this list based on how much I’ve professed my love for this band over the course of 2019. So here’s the thing, the highs on both of these albums--“U.F.O.F.” “Not”--are better than anything else anyone has done this year, but to my ear both records suffer from a flew blah-ish passages that prevent either album, on its own, from achieving top status. However, if you borrow a few tracks here (Cattails, Contact) and a few tracks there (Shoulders, Two Hands) and made one album out of the highlights of both sessions, you would unquestionably have the album of the year. That Big Thief gave us two records brimming with amazing folk rock ideas is a blessing.

10. Sharon Van Etten – Remind Me Tomorrow

Hey, do you remember Sharon Van Etten put out an amazing record in 2019? I bet you don’t. The culture moves so fast these days that albums from January might as well have been released five years ago, and it seems to me like this record slipped off a few peoples’ radars as the year progressed, which is a shame, considering how damn good it is (her best imho). There are few runs on an album I’ve enjoyed more this year than “Jupiter 4’s” electro-throb into “Seventeen’s” Springsteen chug into “Malibu’s” comedown. Bonus points for being my dear friend Hadley’s downstairs neighbor for all those years. Ah Brooklyn, how I miss thee.

9. Black Midi – Schlagenheim

Yes, that most reliable of music-critic tropes: the hot young band from London. Black Midi made waves with a legendary youtube video of their live show, and having seen it in person, let me tell you, even that now infamous video doesn’t do them justice. Much like its gobldy-gook made up title, Schlagenheim is an amalgamation of strands of music that don’t really fit together but somehow they pull off with aplomb. At times they play with the hardcore fury of Minor Threat, while at others the proggy interconnectivity of Rush at their most arena-rockish, all with a weird dash of David Byrne wiry energy holding it all together. If they come to your town, go see them, just don’t stand in the front unless you want to be swept into the maelstrom.

8. Helado Negro – This is How You Smile

Did you love Little Joy (the Strokes sideproject) but wish it was occasionally electronic and periodically in Spanish? If so, I give you Helado Negro. This is the prettiest record of the year; it never goes above a certain emotional register / decibel range, but it inhabits the spectrum in which it lives like a ghost in its occasional electronic flourishes. This is a record for someone with a long drive with something to think about. “Seen my Aura” is simultaneously funky and restrained, acoustic and electronic, and emblematic of the joys of This is How You Smile.

7. Sturgill Simpson – Sound & Fury

Each of Sturgill Simpson’s last three records have been fundamentally different from one another, and each has been excellent, which is almost impossible to accomplish. Metamodern Sounds in Country Music introduced many, like myself, to a new voice in an often overlooked medium, A Sailor’s Guide to Earth dusted off the horns from Elvis’s stax-era and romped around, and now with Sound & Fury Sturgill looks to the outlaw tradition (and ZZ freakin Top) he’s so-often been associated with, but rarely resembled, to crank out an incredible record that is far more “rock” than it is “country.” Throw on a heaping of 80’s-era Springsteen synths and you have the recipe for a record that makes me very, very happy. The two halves of “Make Art not Friends” have little business coexisting within a single track (the first half sounds like Tangerine Dream, the second half Arcade Fire) and yet it is precisely in this tenuous cohabitation that Sturgill has produced his best record to date.

6. Vampire Weekend – Father of the Bride

Vampire Weekend started out their career being accused of stealing from Graceland and ended up becoming Paul Simon. Funny how that works out sometimes. Modern Vampires of the City has become, next to Sound of Silver, the definitive record about life in New York during my era (2005-2016). On the follow up, the band, newly shorn of Rostam Batmanglij (whose solo record is also phenomenal, even though he’s maybe one of the worst performers I’ve ever seen), decamped to California, and Father of the Bride revels in both the California sun and a well earned sense of accomplishment. “Hold You Now” is my favorite song of the year, it is simply stunning.

5. Bill Callahan – Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest

There is a bit of theme developing here at the top of the list: established artists putting out arguably their best work deep into storied careers, and no one on this list is deeper into a more storied oeuvre than Bill Callahan. Between Smog and under his own name, Callahan has been releasing consistently great albums since 1992, and to me, Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest is his finest work to date. Having found domestic bliss, so the press materials state, Callahan is content to sit back and let that world-weary baritone spin out all the comforts of a well-worn chair near a fire in a hearth. This is the type of record that gives you hope that happiness isn’t the exclusive provenance of the young.

4. Purple Mountains – Purple Mountains

If I were to really sit and write out all of my thoughts about David Berman this blurb would probably be 10 pages long, at least, so rather than spill a bunch of digital ink lamenting the loss of a true inspiration, I’ll just try and stick to the album itself, which is almost impossible now in the wake of his suicide shortly after its release. Even on first blush this was a difficult hang, clearly the product of someone who lost their wife to a series of poor decisions / mental difficulties, and who hadn’t come to terms with it. Understandably so. Berman remains endlessly quotable, right up to the very end, and “we’re just drinking margaritas at the mall” remains emblematic of his ability to compress the tedium of middle american misery into a single haunting, yet, hilarious, image. While “Nights that Won’t Happen” lives on as his suicide note directly to the fans (“The dead know what they’re doing when they leave this world behind” ; “all the suffering gets done by the ones we leave behind”), and it is hauntingly beautiful, it still makes me cry every time I hear it. As does most of this record. So the song I’ll carry on with me, and can still actually listen to, is “Snow is Falling in Manhattan.” Just a beautiful song from a beautiful man.

3. Tyler, the Creator – IGOR

I really don’t have the words (well, clearly I have some) to express just how impressed I am by the arc of Tyler’s career. The one-time shock-rap flash in the critical pan quickly turned into forgettable homophobe who perfectly fit a description of Eminem’s fan base I once heard: kids who call their mom a bitch to their face. The first startling change came with Flower Boy, which came right on the heels of his step out of the closet. Flower Boy is a really great record, but it still largely sounded like Tyler, just a more mature version who stopped saying cringe worthy shit. IGOR is something entirely different. I honestly don’t even know what to call it. It’s not a rap record, and there are honestly entire tracks on it where I’m not sure what it is he does on them, but my god, this thing is incredible. It’s basically a Parliament album for the end of the world, and if the earth is going to burn down around us, we might as well dance our way out, which is precisely the party Tyler has orchestrated here. I cannot wait to see what he does next.

2. Angel Olsen – All Mirrors

All Mirrors isn’t just clearly Angel Olsen’s best album by a clear margin, it is the best pop album made by anyone in sometime. Just like black clothes make anyone a little slimmer, orchestration can make any pop song sound symphonic, but most pop acts don’t have the power of Angel Olson’s voice to match the bombast of the string section and percussion. It feels like the term Beatlesesque has started to fade from the critical lexicon, but this music is truly akin to the orchestral richness of “I am the Walrus” or “A Day in the Life.” People celebrate Lana del Ray for her torch songs (and I really liked Norman Fucking Rockwell, even if it didn’t quite make this list in a stacked year) but no one carries a torch like Angel Olsen. I was initially reticent to catch her live show this tour, it was on a weeknight, it was cold, I had to go downtown, I’d seen her a couple times already, yadda yadda yadda, but I knew deep down I really wanted to see if she could recreate the power of these songs on stage (the inverse of how that equation usually goes). Reader: she did.

1. (Sandy) Alex G – House of Sugar

House of Sugar may not be quite as experimental as IGOR, or as pop-perfect as All Mirrors, but it takes those two impulses and melds them together into what is my favorite album of the year, even if strictly speaking it may not be the “best” as measured against the other entrants in this top 3. “Hope” was actually a “hit” song on the local college radio station, and understandably so; it sounds like Elliott Smith and tells a comprehensible story about a friend who died from an overdose. But “Hope” is jut one facet of House of Sugar, which is a veritable hall of musical mirrors. “Walk Away” is hypnotic in its repetitions, “In My Arms” is a legit straightforward acoustic love song, “Sugar” sounds like The Knife (no joke), “Sugarhouse” could have been on The River, and while I already said “Hold You Now” is my favorite song of the year, “Gretel” has something to say about that. I saw a show right when this album came out, and as the band left the stage for the final time the soundguy cued up “Gretel” not, I’m guessing, because the band requested it, but because it rules and he just wanted to share it with everyone as they receded into night.

#top albums of 2019 #best records of 2019

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