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rabbittwist · 1 year

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Harsh Directive

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Summary: Holy shit this Drabble took way too long to make.

Word Count: I don’t even know.

MASTERLIST | Simon “Ghost” Riley

WARNING [blindfold, fingering, orgasm denial, rough sex, doggy style, creampie, creaming, slight knife play, slight choking kink, long drabble]

Operation: Via was a success.

The harsh week of cold and rain had settled in your gear nicely, your firearms in desperate need of a cleaning, and your knives looking pitifully dull. Your skin felt dry, covered in a layer of grime from not having a shower in so long, and your hair was definitely greasy, and flatter than when you had left. You needed a wash, some food, and resting time to get yourself back in order. Sure, the carrier gave you two of those three things, but the comfort of base was calling your name and singeing itself well into your brain; your own bed, your own food, your own— well, semi your own, shower— were the only things that would satisfy you, and you were willing to wait the next 3 hours of flight to reach your gratification.

You silently sat with your arms crossed and legs spread, leaning back into the aisle chair while purposefully pressing your back into the buckle to keep yourself in discomfort. You were refraining yourself from dozing off, maintaining a kink-free neck and back from the horrid sleeping posture you would surely put yourself in; you refuse to go through that torture ever again — training with a sore spine was a bigger pain than what you had anticipated, and the aftercare was difficult to manage when it’s just you massaging the bolts out of your neck and back. You grimaced at the memory of barely being able to climb out of bed and slide your uniform on, slowly gazing up to the roof while holding in a chuckle from the next flashback of almost falling while shoving your pants on.

Your eyes fixated on the lights above that lit the fuselage in a dim glow, aircraft nets swinging gently with the plane and knocking on the walls with soft clatters. It was quiet, unusually quiet, until you heard a loud snore croak in front of you and being followed up with another. Quirking a brow, you turned your attention to your front and on Gaz and Soap, who were completely knocked out in the seating across from yours. Gaz’s arms slumped crossed, and had his head tilted down to his twined legs, while Soap was widely spread and fully tilted back towards the ceiling.

Had it been any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of their drooling faces and horrible postures, but the overwhelming drowsiness took over your complete being and left you oddly calm and collected. Just the sight of them made you envious of their sleep, but you would rather be safe than sorry in the long run during one of Price’s excruciating trainings. You blinked slowly away from the sight and to the cockpit doors, fighting the urge to nod off and instead pinching yourself with your vest’s clasps.

“Arrival will be in two hours. Weather is gloomy with possible heavy rain, so prepare for a stroll, lads. Again, arrival will be in two hours. Out.”

Price’s voice disturbed you aware, leaving you a bit more alive and conscious from the startling overcom. The static undertone helped waken your eyes as you heard it go in and out, tired tears pearling into your lashes from the sudden energy surge to stay aware, and soon being wiped away by your scarf. You felt lightly gleeful that home was so close, only needing to remain awake for— counting the time it would take to walk, as well— 2 and a half hours. You could do that.

A small smile formed on your lips, a hand bringing your scarf up to cover it and allow the subtly present scent of your detergent to sink in through your nose. Home. You were going to be home. You wouldn’t have to smell like dried blood and muddy earth anymore, or have to wear it on display. Until your next mission, of course. Either way, you were just glad you’d be going to base soon, and get the well deserved rest you needed.

A rough shot of cognizance rattled through your spine, your hands stiffening and the smile you had deflating as your hairs stood at attention. Your left side felt completely vulnerable all of a sudden, and you felt deeply discomforted by the abrupt exposure, now shifting in your seat to gain some comfort back. Your whole side burned. You felt every layer of protection cease to exist under the blazing stir that set on what felt like your very skin. You were being watched, and definitely not with sweet eyes.

You didn’t need to guess where it was coming from, or who the unforgiving glower belonged to — Soap and Gaz were out, and Price was in the bridge, so that left one out of the four personnel that could be watching you like an angry hawk. And to think you would have a happy time home.

You knew you wouldn’t get away with the stunt you pulled, despite hoping he would brush it off eventually. How could he? He never neglects your wrongs. He never lets your blunders slip by. He never forgets.

You knew it all too well.

Let’s just hope you make it out alright this time.

You were in deep shit the moment you set foot into base. The way your name instantly shot through the room when Ghost snapped for you to come see him tensed the whole squad, already knowing what the issue pertained to. You didn’t need to look back to acknowledge they were all sending weary eyes your way.

“I’ll get your whiskey ready, Hops.”

“Thanks, ‘Tavish. I’m gonna need it.”

Taking your time to get to the door, you threw your gear into a room on the way and let your hair down from its bun. The tingling sensation of your relaxed scalp gave you a short peace of mind as you massaged the sore muscles and succumbed to a false happy place. You thought of all the nice things you’d partake in now that you were home — a nice shower, some cooked food, and your own bed to nap in now that there were no missions to fling yourself into. How you would all sit around the living room and converse about stories of the past, like how they got their scars, type of thing, as you drank the better-than-nothing whiskey for where you were. Ghost barked gratingly for the second time, his voice sharper, louder — filled with impatience, and knocked you straight out of your comforting haven. You felt your nerves pile onto the tip of your tongue, biting your lower lip to sooth the hard beating of your organs, and making your way to your superior.

You passed through the living quarters and down the long hall towards the debriefing room, quietly wishing you could turn around and pretend like you didn’t hear as you watched the comforting bedroom lights glow teasingly into the corridor. You had blinked, just once, and magically appeared in front of the open door that led straight to your doom. You were an anxious mess, fumbling with your gloves as you pulled them off and set them on the counter just beside the door. Taking a deep breath, you began to reason with yourself, mumbling incoherent encouragements to get you to go into the room and power your way through whatever he would yell at you for. Come on, White, you got this. At least you aren’t at Death’s door.. I hope.

The door slammed shut behind you when you had eventually entered, your heart stammering from the harsh snap of wood-on-wood. It felt like you had left reality and entered the dark dungeons of Hell from how drastic the atmosphere shifted. Not even the light felt the same as it blinked inside from the covered windows, nor the speckles of dust that would cascade down to the floor. You focused on your breathing despite your lungs want to collapse from the underlying fear that now set the scene. They practically did when you felt the looming presence of a ghost standing just a few feet away from your back, and deathly silent rage surrounding you like a cloud of toxin.

You need to relax.

You grazed your eyes over to the center table, signature black gear already laid across it with dissected guns and removed armor plates. They looked to have just been cleaned and reapplied with oil, but the finish looked rather rushed and almost careless from how he set every part across the counter. The sight made a cold shudder slither up your spine; Ghost always took care of his artillery, never using rushed hands and little thought when cleaning and placing pieces. You had gotten to him. Bad.

You tore your eyes away from the table and burned them straight ahead, the sound of heavy boots slowly prowling close catching your attention and flooding your veins with mixed apprehension. You recognize that gait, know those boots. Oh fuck..

There was a clipping sound paired with rustling fabric before you saw his vest get tossed by the table with a loud clatter. You flinched at the raucous noise, standing even firmer at attention despite the soft look you tried to portray and mitigate your angered superior.

“Would you like me to put your stuff away with mine?” You asked with a built sweetness. What good would this do? Dig your grave a little deeper? Might as well and try to knock two birds with one stone; ease the tension, ease the Lieutenant.

“You defied a direct order.” He uttered, the underlying reverb in his throat startling your overly aware nerves as his boots heaved on the floor with every step behind you.

You grimaced at the failed attempt to improve the situation, your shoulders tightening and your hands becoming clammy. When you saw the back of his cotton warmer, his steps ceasing after appearing meters in front of you, you audibly sighed, “If we didn’t get those vials then, we would’ve never been able to ransack like that again.”

“You think I give a bloody fuck?” His tone reached deep into his chest, his head snapping just barely to the side. It was a silent command to stand and shut the fuck up.

You snapped your mouth closed, watching as the Lieutenant peered down to a hand and flexed it out to rid the tension in his burly toned arm; he looked as if he would be flexing out claws, his large hands twitching from the urge to grab you and slam you against the wall to teach you a lesson. He was shaking, even just slightly, and was positively fuming for your disregard of his command and jumping straight into a no-coms zone. He had no clue if you’d come back to him either just as you were, or in a fucking casket. “If I see you dead, (Y/n), I swear to whatever bloody fuckin’ god is up there that I’ll be proper fuckin’ shit-pissed. Stay alive. Don’t you dare come back to me strung up in medals.”

He turned fully towards you, his broad frame blocking the incoming light from the window behind him. You looked two sizes smaller than Ghost — his body could fully cover you from view — the size difference enforcing intimidation without even mentioning his burning anger.

"I gave you an order, White." He stalked towards you, every agonizing step forcing you back on instinct, "You don't just ignore your superior's orders— especially not in this line of business."

You bumped into something solid and stopped, your eye contact with the black-suited soldier imposing on your soul and bleeding out with your incoming submission, "I'm sorry, Ghost, I really am. But if we didn't get those vials—"

His fist slammed right next to your head and into whatever you backed up against, your words hitching in your throat as a cracking noise came from the object behind you.

"I don’t care about the fuckin' vials, Rabbit."

You felt your heart practically rip out of your chest with every beat, your eyes wide and your hands pressed flush against the now cracked wall with your back. Your mind screamed at you to run away, acting on your prey instincts from the threatening presence in the room. Yet, you remained silent, unmoving as the Lieutenant’s eyes bore into yours, daring you to take a step away like he knew what you were thinking.

“Do you remember what I asked of you,” Ghost pierced through your ears with an alarmingly rich sonorous hum, “when I had you flush against my door, right on your pretty little knees?”

You felt a boiling heat rush throughout your body, your eyes snapping open even wider in full awareness. The scent of cigarettes and husky cologne was more potent now that he was so close to your figure, a mixture of dirt and old blood evident in his musk.

It practically clouded your senses, a dazed look setting in your eye as the oh-so familiar scent plunged deep into your lungs, yet you still conjured up whatever shitty pride you had left against your dire situation, “Sir, please.. This isn’t the time.”

He grimaced down at your audacity, his accent flaring with obvious fire, “Fuckin’— Do you remember what I asked of you?”

You couldn’t hold eye contact any longer, your embarrassment overpowering your confidence and causing your head to turn away. Yes, you remembered. You remembered the whole ordeal.

The way he shakily purred your name as you bobbed your head up and down his length with soft teary eyes and a constantly bulging throat. How he forced a hand through your hair as he leaned all his built weight into the other, curling his body above you and into his skillfully tattooed arm as he stroked your locks carefully. This was different. This was sensual. He wasn’t rough, and his touches were all filled with the utmost delicate attention like he was handling one of his most precious weapons.

You let out a short, uneasy scoff, trying to divert the perverted memory, “What does that have to do with any of this?”

He flashed you a hard glare, your hope of him going along with your words disappearing instantaneously. When he knew you were firmly silenced, his voice cut through the quiet like a knife through butter, “I’m going to ask you one last time. Do you or do you not remember what I asked of you?”

“.. Of course I do,” You meekly gave in, your eyes scathing back up his body and to his gaze, “That was the last time we were alone together before Op: V.”

He gently combed his fingers through your hair as you continued to suck and lick, focusing on his veined v-line that kept going back and forth with every thrust of your head. He let out a rough groan as your tongue swept along the underside of his sex, his body visibly shuddering as he mumbled, “God damn it, love..” and gripping his supporting hand into a tight fist. He began to snarl incoherent praises, saying how good you were for him, and how he was so lucky to have you assigned under him as his rookie.

"Bun," He inquired, jaw clenching as his eyes gazed down at you with glints of abnormal longing, "Come back to me in one piece— bloody hell, please."

“Then why did you risk it?”

You curled your hands up behind you, looking at anything but him in an effort to ignore the question. You had no option, however, when Ghost called your name with a chilling rasp, your arms becoming littered with goosebumps as your hair stood on edge.

"It's.. It's just.."

You could feel his eyes spark with curiosity at your stutter, finding your nervous form a rare sight, and savoring it with every look over. Despite this, he remained firm with heavy superiority behind every word, "’s just what, White?"

".. I didn't want to get in trouble." You whispered, afraid the whole world would hear your confession.

The room went dead quiet, so much so you swore you could feel the air thicken and begin to choke you through each breath you took. Ghost had froze. He froze with a blank stare straight into your eyes, like he was processing word for word what you said. I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up, your mind repeated, never once breaking from his swirling gaze. You had no clue what he was thinking, what the subtle glints in his eyes meant as they showered around your body in tantalizingly slow look overs. You wanted him to say something, anything to keep you from basking in the silence and spiraling yourself into an overthinking mess.

You abruptly flinched as he pulled his head away from yours, his voice vibrating in a low pitch and deepening his accent, "What did you say?"

"I didn't want to get in trouble.." You repeated, gulping down a chunky lump in your throat.

He took another moment of pure silence before slowly peeling himself off you. You gawked after him as he went to trudge across the room towards his strewn about gear, looking through it with haste as you remained stuck to the wall. You stood in utter confusion, wondering what in the world was going to happen, until he snapped his fingers and pointed down by his side without giving you a single glance; "Here." You, of course, followed his instruction, and walked up quietly behind him to his side all the while picking at your fingers in nervous habit. You didn’t like not knowing what would happen next, and it seemed like everything he did was to play on your discomfort, taking his sweet yet rushed time to gather whatever he was seeking.

"Trying to get yourself out of trouble is what gets you in trouble. Fuckin' shit, White— you should know this by now."

You felt like a private all over again, being scolded by the second lieutenant during training for doing something slimly out of line, "I'm sorry, Ghost.."

He snapped his head towards you, giving you a scowl through his eyes like that was the last thing you should've said, "Sayin’ sorry won't fix anything when you're fuckin' dead."

You clamp your mouth shut as Ghost turned back to the table, pulling out one of his black cloths from a vest pocket. You were beyond anxious from each of his rushed actions, watching him flick the cloth out of its folds and holding it between his hands.

He turned to face you, watching you examine the black fabric in his hands with wide doe eyes, “Turn around.”

Without wanting to make matters worse, you comply and face your back towards him with a shaky turn. You hear his boots thud against the floor as he comes straight up to your behind, his close presence causing your back to feel oddly sensitive despite the zero contact. It worsened as you felt his firm chest graze your shoulder blades when he leaned forward, his breath seeping into your ear through his balaclava.

“Close your eyes.”

You felt a shiver creep nerve-by-nerve through your system, and how your whole spine became pleasurably tender from marinating in his close-up musk. Your eyes closed with the single flutter of your lids, your adrenaline accelerating from your lack of sight and creating a blissfully heavy sensation in your core.

You gently twitched when you felt what you assumed to be his arms graze past your shoulders, and place the black cloth over your eyes before tying it off securely behind your head. You didn’t dare remove it, and instead embraced the enhanced senses you were given, feeling every vein that split through and around his exposed forearms, and hear every low breath from behind his skull coverings.

“‘Only you were this well behaved on the mission. It’s really a shame, White.. qui-te the shame.”

You let your body tremble as his hands trailed painfully slow down your neck and to the dip in your back, his gloved fingertips grazing your quivering figure with rare delicacy. You relished in the rare attention, involuntarily leaning into his warmth with a soft, shaky sigh passing through your lips from the contact. You missed him. You missed all of him. His body was not something you could see yourself without, and that whole mission was absolute torture; running around to get the job done with little to no time with your ghost. The first night without him went fine, but after the second?

You were both aching for touch. It was becoming impossible to stay curled in your tents, and the overwhelming need for one another’s bodies burned your very cores with hot desire. One thing led to another and you both had your earbuds in, dialed on a private line, and letting yourselves confess your needy desires to the dark heavens above.

“Raise your arms above your head.”

You did as you were told, shakily lifting your arms straight up to the ceiling. His hands removed themselves from your sides and went for your wrists, bringing your arms behind your head and wrapping them around his neck. It stretched your body out nicely, his height forcing you on the balls of your feet and to the tips of your toes just to adjust with the position. Your fingers felt on something soft, something warm gliding under your tips as you stroked down the fabric material. The soft surface subtly rose with bumps as your nails lightly scratched what you remembered as his nape, feeling his locks peak out from under the balaclava, and gently feeling for it. A thick vein trailed up the side of his throat and caressed your exposed wrist, your pulse radiating with his at the sensation of his firm flesh. You were anxious, yet you could allow the Lieutenant to do as he pleased when he brought his palms down to your stomach.

You began dreading the blindfold, wanting to see everything he was doing to you, “Ghost.. Why do I have to wear this cloth?”

His tone reverberated along his throat in a growlish pitch, “So you can understand exactly what I saw when you went into that bloody building.”

“But I don’t see—”

His fingers dug into your v-line and forced a whimper from your chest, his voice burning low, violent, “That’s the fuckin’ point. I didn’t see anything, not a proper fuckin’ thing when you went into that warehouse.”

He leaned in close to your ear, his breath nipping against your shell with every hot exhale, “You’re going to feel exactly what I felt. You’re going to see exactly what I saw. Only you put yourself in this position, and you’re going to sit your ass through it just as I did.”

“Do I make myself clear, Sergeant?”

“Yes, Ghost—”

His grip tightened painfully through your warmers, a hiss falling with your sudden intake of air and shutting you up.

“It’s either yes Lieutenant, or yes sir.. You’ve forgotten your place, White, so you’re goin' to live in it until I see fit. So again, do I make myself fuckin’ clear, Sergeant?”

Had it not been for his leather gloves and your cotton warmer, you knew his nails would've punctured through your skin with how tight his grip on your body was. Did you wish that was the case? Abso-fucking-lutely.

You let his rough handling of you coax an answer from your lips as you finally gave in, your soft voice wavering in defeat, "Yes, Lieutenant.."

"Atta' girl.. Such a good obedient thing when you want ta’ be, ain't that right?"

Oh, if your insides weren't clenching before, they were definitely clenching now. It sounded so dirty, like he stripped you clean of any human title and dubbed you almost like a pet. The blindfold was tied snug against your eyes, unrelenting with how tight your heat was clinging to your insides, or how it made being called a good obedient thing by the predator behind you turn your mind into liquid. You could feel how his body encased your own, and how his skin was burning hot, muscles completely flexed and solid in restraint to keep himself together.

You sucked in a deep breath when you felt his big hands trail down to the buckle of your belt and slowly unclip it, "L—Lieutenant..?"

With a harsh tug, the belt came straight out of your pants and right to the floor, "'Won't be needin' this."

Picking up the bottom of your cotton shirt, he raised it up and over your chest, letting the hem rest messily along your collarbone as he pulled his hands fully off your body. You were stood right against his hard frame, your pants now unbuttoned and zipped down, and your pretty abdomen and covered tits on full display.

His gloved hands grazed down your neck and over your perking breasts, giving them little attention as he continued to trail his cold gloves along your warming skin. You wish he’d rip open your bra and pinch your nipples with unrelenting roughness, but when his leather palms glazed over your v-line, right over your panty line, you wiped that thought clean out of your head with a gentle sigh.

As if sensing your shifting emotions, he clicked his tongue and set his hands just on the hem of your cargo pants with a strict sneer, "Sergeant, keep yourself together."

You let out a shaky response, his firm command urging out a submission of acknowledgment, "Yes, sir."

“That’s my girl. My good, pretty little girl.. I think we should get started with your punishment."

His fingers made their way through your pants and straight to your clothed cunt, his gloves snagging gently against the silky fabric of your panties. His sudden assault caused a flinch to ripple through your body, your mind asking to any god above if this was truly what he said it would be right before he began his torture. You let out a soft squeak when you felt pressure begin to push against your covered slit, drawing small circles on the tip of your clit with his middle finger as it nestled right between your puffy cameltoe.

"Feels fuckin' good, doesn't it?" He murmured, keeping his other hand pinning your ass against his hips.

"Feelin' so right and perfect on my fingers.. Just how I felt when you followed and obeyed under my command like nothing could go wrong."

Noticing your pussy begin to grind against his fingers, he scoffed, settling his hardening arousal right against your ass, "Fuckin' hell..”

He let you continue to move your hips, his mask shifting right against the side of your cheek all the while he savored how your plump rear would shift and press against his thickening sex. He missed this. He missed you. How every morning you'd greet him with such warm eyes, and how every night you'd welcome him into your gushy insides with the most submissive pleas and cries. When you would whine and beg to be stuffed full of nothing but his thick cock, or when you’d put on something that begged for his instincts to grab you and taint your flesh and blood with nothing but him. It practically made him feral at just the remembrance.. But, as much as he wanted to indulge himself, Ghost knew he couldn't let you off the hook, not after firing him up and really showing how scary a tosser could be when it came to his woman.

"'s just like this, yeah? Seeing nothin', absolutely fuck all, and left with the pleasure of knowin' you're alright— knowin' you're in ear's length of coms."

With the increase of pressure on your hardened pearl, and the rougher grind of his large finger circling the pulsing nub, he began to push the little restraint you had on your voice, and forcing quiet groans and mewls past your trembling lips.

"'Felt so good— so fuckin' perfect, like nothin' could wrong me as long as you listened and stayed in contact."

All your mind could focus on was the overwhelming growth of slick and lust forming straight into your guts, and the death pulsing grip the Lieutenant had on your bruising skin. Your bucking hips became desperate, your need to feel your knot grow and snap intruding and releasing your lustful pheromones in the air like an animal searching for a mate— or better yet, to mate— and clinging to every little thing.

"And every single time you answered my call.. It was like music to my ears, Bun. 'Couldn't see you, yet could feel your hot breath right in my ear like you were fuckin' there, right stood next to me, just as it should've been."

You let out a strained gasp when you felt his finger push your panties away from your drooling cunt and forcing itself inside, the palm of his hand rubbing circles over your clit in his finger's stead. The grip you had on his balaclava disappeared, only for your fingers to run straight under the fabric and shakily grab at his hair to somewhat ground your slushing brain. His finger felt like it was stretching you out already, the leather glove aiding in the attack as his digit went in and out, curled and uncurled. You were getting drunk on just his hand, your back arching off Ghost's body as shocks of wrecking pleasure pulsed through your very bones.

A purr-like growl began to rumble inside his throat, his eyes never once leaving the sight of his hand stuffed down your trousers and finger fucking your weeping pussy, “It felt just like how you’re feeling now— so full and right. So euphoric to know you were right under the palm of my hand, and that nothing would come to stop us from getting home.”

You felt your tongue push past your lips when he injected another finger into your clenching hole, shoving right against your flexing cunt, “F—Fuck!”

His hand suddenly stopped moving, earning a needy whine from your pathetically crumbling body, “Watch your fuckin’ mouth, Sergeant. If I hear another swear out of you, I’ll leave you as the dumb mess you are right on that couch.”

You felt your eyes widen behind the black cloth, needy pleas and cries straining for his continuous touch, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll behave, I promise!”

With a cocky smirk, he gradually began to set his pace back into your sex, sloppy ‘thank you’s and ‘more’s croaking from your drying throat, “Good girl.”

Your hips began to spasm, the tight knot you’ve been craving for forming at a rapid pace as his fingers hit knuckles-deep into your cunt. Your eyes began to roll up and become half-lidded, drool seeping down the corner of your lip when you let out a short cry from your pussy suddenly quivering and gripping around Ghost’s fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, Bun— are you gonna cum already?” He mused, rubbing his palm harder against your hot clit.

You couldn’t even focus on what he was taunting over, being too caught up in the boiling heat that hit over and over against your insides. You were about to snap, your muscles contracting and retracting rapidly as your body convulsed. The hold you had on his hair was hard, your nails digging into his scalp with a vice grip, and the foggy look you gave to the blindfold screaming for release.

Ghost rubbed the hard edge of his mask right against your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your bruised hips in a forged comfort, “'Felt the same way when I heard you call in after my every order. How it felt so fuckin' warmin' to have you submit whenever I needed to hear your confirmation— without your daft tongue."

A harsh spike of snapping thread spread throughout your womb, flooding your lower half in fuzz and intense heat as your cervix quivered with every involuntary clench. You felt panic rise into your lungs, finding it harder and harder to keep your panting under control as you realized your ending point was being fucked out of you quicker than normal.

You slurred over every word, spreading your thighs out wider as your jaw began to tighten, "Cumming— Lieutenant, I'm gonna— no, I'm gonna—!”

His voice burled deep and rough, the accent you oh-so adored sounding like Satan’s damned temptation, “But then, oh then, did that comfort crumble right through my fingers.”

Just when you felt your eyes roll back into your head, your body fully prepared for your stuttering womb to snap, his touch disappeared in an instant, and the overflowing high that was soon to tip over washing away gruesomely fast. You were left empty, hollowed even, with how quick the change was as your body adjusted to being denied its pleasure. You were left in shock. What the hell just happened?

You could hear the devilish taunt of his voice as you glared into darkness with helpless teardrops forming in your eyes, “You really thought I’d let you burst, White? Bloody fuck, you’ve really been spoiled rotten.”

You sniffed as drops of your pearling tears fell from your eyes, “Th—That’s not fair..”

He couldn’t help the amused scoff that found its way through the mask, his hands grasping your luscious waist in a rough clutch, “'Didn’t tell you to talk.”

“I did what I had to do!”

He snapped, “Watch it, Sergeant.”

The commanding bark quieted your pleads, your sniffs and silent whimpers remaining as your only hope to get what you needed. You pressed your thighs back against his legs, trying to press more of your body into him as an offering, even going as far as to grind your ass against his dense arousal— you were acting like a bitch in heat, and it was getting to the point where even Ghost couldn’t see straight anymore from how slutty you were acting for his dick.

In one rapid moment, you could feel the leather covered fingertips hook around the front of your bra just milliseconds before it came ripping right off your torso. You gasped from his brute strength forcing your bra to come apart in his hands, the weight of your tits forcing out a small whimper of need before you felt the cool fabric of gloves cup the underside of your mounds in a firm hold.

"'Missed these slutty tits and how they fit into my hands just right. 'nd the way your nipples—" He finally brought his attention to your teats, giving them a painful pinch and pull, "— were always so excited to see me.."

You felt the hard skull covering press into the space between your neck and shoulder, listening to him take a deep inhale of your warm scent, "Damn proper perfection, and it's all for me to fuck and break."

You press further into his broad frame, your back flush against his snug fitted warmer. You couldn't get enough of him; you needed more with every passing second, and now with him practically milking your breasts with how he kept pulling and twisting your nipples, you were hopelessly in need of Ghost.

Your heart jarring to keep up with a healthy pace in spite of your embarrassment, you sputtered, "Please punish me more.."

A low chuckle vibrated through his chest, pulling his head back from your shoulder as one of his hands left your tit and grazed it up between your breasts to gently touch your neck, "Punishment isn't meant to be pleasurable, Sergeant."

You tilted your head to the side, allowing his fingers to brush against your pulse and lay comfortably around your throat, “I can’t help it when it’s you punishing me..”

He impulsively allowed his hand to wrap around your supple neck, that small ounce of control he had left finally splitting as his voice dropped down heavy octaves, "You're asking for it now, Bun.."

Swiftly, he released your throat and tore the blindfold right off your head, not giving your eyes a moment to adjust before grabbing onto the back of your bruising nape and pushing you towards the center of the room. You were tripping over your own feet to keep up with his large strides, your legs getting caught up with his in an intertwined mess. Your heart was beating in your ears and your mind was running wild with the varying scenarios that could play out right in this room like the many times before. You were practically dripping at the thought of being manhandled and fucked so stupid that you wouldn't be able to walk for the next few days— hopefully the next few weeks. You might even get your wish with how hasty he was being to get you into place just for him to abuse and litter with his crazed ardor. You brought your hands down to keep yourself steady when he finally got you into a comfortable spot; you were faced right in front of the coffee table, your eyes once again staring at his carelessly thrown about equipment.

Taking no more time to waste, he brutally shoved all his equipment off the table, and slammed your front onto the now clear countertop, breasts down, ass up. You gasped from suddenly being thrown around like a doll, hitting straight onto the wood with a slight bounce, and your pliable flesh rippling from the impact. You could feel the harsh coolness of the wood rub into your nipples, your breasts painfully aroused as your innocent nubs continued to tighten and perk.

In one jarring movement, Ghost had your pants down past your ankles, and your panties left disheveled on your blemished hips with heavy impatience. For the second time, he froze — even if it was only for a split second, you felt it. His hand flinched with a sudden stop against your naked thigh when he began to retract, and the hard breathing that echoed around the soldier had grown quiet for just that moment.

It was proper fucking magic. The way the straps of your underwear perfectly dipped into your glistening flesh, and how your puffy cameltoe was deliciously accentuated by the soft fabric of your cotton panties. It only made his mind spiral helplessly into a feral slop of what it once was, the remembrance of needing to punish you completely forgotten and thrown to the back of his mind. The hunger to ruin your full being was fucking with his brain to where even he was losing his cool.

Like countless times before, he retracted his knife from his chest holster and slammed the 11 inch MTECH right into the oak table, blistering up the surrounding wood layers. He engraved it right in front of your eyes, the brutal sound of the blade ripping straight into the countertop ringing in your ears as you watched his hand linger for just a moment to make sure you acknowledged it, before he let go of the tang with an agonizingly slow retraction — it was a warning.

An unclasping sound startled you out of your stare-off with his weapon, the noise of metal clinking together as his belt buckle laid lax against his thighs coaxing a noise out of you. You swore you were about to lose it when you heard him unbutton his pants, and the unzipping of zipper teeth graze painfully low behind your ass. He was drawing this out for as long as he could, and you knew it, too. From the amount of times he’s edged you, forced you to beg for what you wanted; to put it into perspective, you didn’t know how far gone you could go until you were once on the brink of passing out from the painful edging and needful crying, that’s how well you knew his tendencies.

The knife laid clattered with your torn lingerie, droplets of thick glossy honey dripping onto the long forgotten pile. Slapping of skin and squelching mush underlined heavy growls and sob-filled moans, the room filled with the damp smell of sex and pornish sounds of pleasure.

Through your broken cries, Ghost couldn’t help the snarl that rose from his throat when he felt your weeping cunt brutally hug onto his dick with need. He had lost himself the moment he sunk balls deep into your hole, letting his desire take full responsibility of fucking you till you were completely stuffed with all he could give. He became an animal, his only need being to shove you full with his cock in the most feral way possible. He needed to.

With a final harsh snap of his hips, the grip he had on your waist indented into your skin, and the hold that marked carnally around your neck dug even deeper into your pulse. He sloppily stilled with a small -plap- between your thighs, keeping flush against your raw sex as he took a moment to gather himself. Sweat lined your skins with a shear layer, heavily falling chests fueling the desperate pants for air that puffed against your exertions. You were on the brink of cumming, your pussy convulsing around his cock as you mewled quietly for him to let you release — this was the third time this round he stopped just before you could snap, and the many tears that drooled down your cheeks were evidence of such sin. You couldn’t even beg for it, you poor thing, that’s how far gone you were.

He shut you up with a violent slap on your plump thigh, earning a muffled cry as he made sure his pelvis pressed right into your clit insync.

“Ah ah ah, love— no whining for your fuckings, remember? You’ll take what I give you, and appreciate it like the proper sex whore you are.”

He drew out your orgasm for the next thirty minutes no matter how desperate you cried, or how fucked out you looked. He couldn’t bring himself to let you out of his room without making sure the only thing your body would remember was him and how he was the only one that could fuck you this good. No one could violently edge, or screw you dumb the way his dick could, and your body better fucking remember that.

You felt something hot glide right through your mounds, the moistened cotton of your panties dragging against your clit in slow, shuddering thrusts.

"Fuuckk.. Fuckin' Christ.." Ghost hissed through bared teeth, grinding himself firmly between your wettened thighs, "'Don't know how much longer I can take this.."

You could cry with how badly you needed him inside of you. It was becoming stressfully hard to keep back your curses and whines, and he was picking up on every little frustrated jolt your body made as he made it worse and worse. And it did worsen when you let out a choppy sob as you felt the warmth of his bulge pull away from your soiled underwear, your clit twitching in red searing need for his attention. It all washed away before you could start begging, when you felt a boiling hot heat prod against the very same bud, squealing out when you felt a warm substance smear across your panties up and down over the entrance to your insides.

His fingers hooked under your thin covering and pulled it to the side of your swollen lips, the cold air hitting your exposed inner flesh and causing it to spasm closed. You hiccuped with every passing breath, imagining what was waiting just mere inches away from your weeping hole; is it his fat cock, pulsing blue veins strapping up the underside of his painfully hard arousal? Or was it another teasing set of fingers to ready your cunt for his dick to bottom out inside you? He answered your question to the fullest when he pushed the bulb of his thick cock right between your folds, earning a shocked moan from your quivering lips.

Utterly pleased, he tilted his head back as he savored the way the tip of his aching dick began to slide back and forth against your sex, feeling every wettened, pulsing piece of your cunt. He ran a hand to the dip of your back as he carelessly hung the other at his side, pumping his happy trail with every slow, teasing roll of his hips against your ass.

A guttural sigh purred deep in his chest, one final 'Fuuck..' rumbling through his stitched balaclava before he stilled his hips, regaining some of his lost composure with every raspy breath.

"Time for the— hah..— main event, don't you think, Bun?"

You could only nod as an answer, your heart trying to steady itself while causing a lump to get caught in your throat. Your body was scorching, all too eager to get what you "deserved" and completely milk it for all you could. You were desperate for any friction, and it started showing as you settled your ass back on his twitching desire, small presses and shifting hips never once escaping his sharp eye.

He tutted his tongue in disapproval as he gave your ass a firm smack, letting his dense fingers sink into your plump rear and melt into your flesh, “Patience, little rabbit. All you have to do is say please, and I might consider giving you what you want."

You practically leapt at his offer, twisting your head back to face him with blown out eyes, "Please fuck me, Lieutenant! I can't take this anymore— it's been way too long since we've touched, and I need it! Please, please, please!"

Ghost couldn't help the chuckle that ran up his throat, pushing his glistening cockhead on your burning clit as he started to taunt your pathetic begging, "Who knew the stubborn White Rabbit could be taken down a few notches from just a bloody cock.. What would the team think?"

He slowly glides his fingertips up your spine, going straight from your Venus Dips to your delicate nape with taunting emotive trails of gentle leather kisses, “Not like that matters.. ‘Sides, if they even thought about my dangerous little bun all fucked out and sobbing.. Well, I can guarantee they’d rethink what Hell looked like.”

He leans down over your trembling figure, sliding a hand around to the front of your neck and keeping it in a snug grip, “I don’t give a fuck what the regulations say. You’re mine— all mine to adore..”

Your eyes began to blur with every word, ‘mine’ ringing through your ears like an angel’s love song. It sounded so comforting, so intoxicatingly beautiful that it would’ve brought you down on your knees to listen and hang over every lyric. It would’ve— should’ve been the case, except for the fact that in reality, it wasn’t a heavenly call, but was the Devil in disguise dangling your precious desires right in front of your face with every deep, luscious promise. Fucking Christ.. Who knew the Devil looked so good in black?

“Say it.. Say you’re mine, and I’ll give you my fuckin' cock to cry over just how you want.”

“I..”

You gathered your mush of a brain to at least spark some type of sense in you. You sputtered silent nonsense as you tried to please him, tried to give him an answer like the good girl you were. It felt impossible, but you managed with what little control you had over your dumbed-out mind, and responded with such a weak waver of song.

“I’m yours, Lieutenant..”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

In one violent push, his cock plunged to the root in your mush, a sickening smack of wet skin signifying your glistening pussy lips now trembling around his dense girth. Had it not been for his tight grip around your pulsing neck, you would’ve screamed— screamed in absolute pleasure of finally feeling him to the fullest context. Your attention remained glued to the knife, the shiny serrated edge glinting at you in mockery of your pathetic cry. But did you care? Absolutely not. Simon Ghost Riley was stuffing your cunt full of his dick for the millionth time this month, and you would never feel even the slightest bit of shame in taking him. You were infatuated. You were drunk on him. You were in love with him.

Just like how he was in love with you, his pretty little Sergeant.

Flexing his muscled back with a satisfied sigh, he ran his strong hands down your waist and held it in a deathly clutch, “You’re not allowed to cum unless I tell you to. Is that understood?”

You felt your lungs tighten as a breathy sigh passed through your lips, “Yes, sir..”

“Good fuck bunny. Such a lovely piece of fuck meat, just for me.”

Wrapping your hair around a knuckles-white grip, he slammed away at your gushing insides in pure animalistic rage, delicious feral fapping and squelching noises dragging him on to fuck you as he set off with no soft pace. You gasped out only to whine and moan against every hard slap of your hips, the weight of his dick pinning right up into your cervix tipping you over already— his cock was long enough to reach far inside your cunt and push delectably into that one weak spot that sent you reeling; thick enough to leave you molded, gapping the shape of his cock as a momento of who fucks— who owns your very being, inside and out. God, you were in pure bliss. Feeling this man every night in his bed has left this hole in your chest, something you couldn’t quite describe without thinking about him doing you in and touching every inch of your body. He’s left his mark on you, forever attached to a ghost that guarded from the shadows, yet a man that bedded you in nothing but his deep primal musk. The sensations of his carnal sin would never excrete; your body, mind, and soul would remember the way he tastes, feels, and fucks for the rest of your life. But was that really a problem?

He leaned his broad frame over your glittering body, making sure each thrust was passionate, invigorating as he intimately kissed your guts with wild heat. You felt his abdomen graze your back with every pull of your hips towards his exposed pelvis, the feeling of hot cotton and tightened muscles looming above your figure as he pressed you further into the table. You were small compared to his burly size, a single hand able to make home around your neck in a clasp that could still touch at the back of your throat. His thighs that kept yours spread were thick, thrusting against them in a firm stance to ensure they stayed apart and around his dense muscles. His torso.. don’t even get started on his torso. The tight fit of his black shirt perfectly accentuated every crisp line of his abdominal muscles, his strong ribs and sharply cut v-line pressing neatly into the fabric around every tensed ab. You were a lucky girl to experience such a deadly built predator like himself rubbing and fucking into your poor subordinate body. He was the size of an ox compared to you, a small bunny.

He growled lowly in your ear as he tugged your head back into his shoulder, “Don’t you ever disobey me again.. Don’t you ever— fuck— go under my authority again.”

Pulling you back on his dick, he slammed into you after every rough word, “Is.. -plap- that.. -plap- under.. -plap- stood?”

Your nails dug straight into the wood, pressing your reddening cheek into his stitched mask in an attempt to ground yourself, “Gnngh! Yes, sir!”

Without another word, he let go of your hair and allowed your head to rest on the cold wood, swiftly taking hold of your arms and pulling them back towards him in a single clasp. He released your bruised waist from his vice clutch, only to grab onto your shoulder and pull you back on his cock as he rashly snarled, “Take it.. Take this fucking cock.”

The tip of his dick deliciously fucked into your tight pussy, the feeling of his happy trail pounding possessively into your ass gushing out more of your stringy honey. He never let up on his assault, making sure you savored this just as much as he was; the way his cock relentlessly claimed every inch of your guts, and marked your pink in glossy white precum. And how with each passing second, your moans grew louder, unfiltered by anything to hold your pleasure back and overpowering his raspy curses and growls.

He starts coming back to himself, slowly but surely, as he drove his hips into yours in a constant state. He began to have the ability to appreciate how he sunk into your sex inch-by thick-inch with mild resistance of your clenching walls, and how your body would jitter perfectly against his when he thrusted just at the right angle. You were so delicious on his dick, trying to milk him for his worth with the vice-like clench you had on his pumping arousal. How he managed to survive the mission was beyond him, but the reward afterwards was all worth the wait as he could finally refill your hole with his veiny, heavy cock.

Tears prickled into your soft lashes, a small hiccup jolting through your ragged breaths, “Oh, God..!”

His hips slowed just enough to where your voice would calm down, taking your chin in a harsh grasp as he removed his hold on your shoulder and forced you to look over at him. His eyes burned holes into yours, clear utter possession and want flaring around his deep leather browns as he watched pearl after pearl streak down your cheeks from your cute butterfly wings.

“You know, it’s very fuckin’ rude to moan another man’s name as I’m bottomin’ out in you, even if you’re praying to God himself.”

With a low scoff, he whispered against your burning ear as he turned your head back to his knife, “Like he could do any better..”

Your stuttering apology slurred into nothing but noise, too fucked out to even try as your mind focused on how his dick twitched inside of you and dragged against your insides. The overwhelming heat of your sex piled and piled, getting far too scorching that you were on the brink of calling it quits. And yet, at the thought of having this end, you couldn’t bring yourself to tap out and return to your original home plan. You were drunk on his cock, the feeling of every pulsing vein and curve of his twitching sex throwing you further and further into the lustful fog at the back of your mind.

Your soppy cunt sucked and squeezed on his dick, your end drawing near with every slap of your coated thighs, and every desperate tug at your aching arms. Your womb burned with the need to snap, your legs shaking violently as your body begged for release, to reach that plain of ecstasy that would make you see fuzzy white. It was driving you mad, the denial to cum earlier ravaging your nerves like a powerful source as he continued to fuck you straight into the table. You were overwhelmed by all the cloudy sensations of sin— his smell, his dick, his chest, his mask— him. It was like biting into the forbidden fruit when you met him behind closed doors, your bodies colliding and dancing in the fires of your own desires as you gave in to your intrusive thoughts of the ghost.

It was likewise for the shadow himself, feeling the wrongs of behaving in such an inappropriate manner with his subordinate, yet being unable to look away from your innocent eyes as he passed by. To him, you were the temptation, the taboo. You were the forbidden fruit that God himself placed before him— a perfect little angel all for him to ruin and claim with every searing touch. He knew he was trapped the moment he gave in and took your body as his with a simple little graze of his fingers across your naked back. He didn’t mean to get attached. He didn’t mean to always come crawling back to your door that sat just across the hall. But he wasn’t dumb. He knew once that innocent little spark ignited in his cold chest, he had to have you. Call it fiction, but it was like fate for you to be his, just as it was his to be yours.

Sliding his hand away from your neck, Ghost pulled up his balaclava just above the tip of his nose before returning his grip to your blemished throat, “You’re going to— fuckin’ shit— cum all over my cock, and scream out my name like the good little fuck rabbit you are. Copy that.”

“Copied..” You moaned as your eyes scathed away from the knife, accentuating the 'e' with a short, fucked-out purr.

He groaned at your weak answer, shoving his clenching jaw into your neck as he looked up at your glistening face, “That’s— That’s my fuckin’ bun.”

As his need grew, he couldn’t hold back the feral upbringing of possession before he sunk his teeth into your flesh, only enough to leave a gruesome mark for your later discovery when you would clean yourself up in the showers. The possessiveness in his affirmation only made your heart flutter as your stomach did flips from how his voice thundered low in a lustful pitch before he laid needful claim on your neck. It didn’t stop there, either, as his teeth made your neck his personal canvas with deep love bites and purpling hickeys— you were his muse, and his muse alone to show off.

Pulling back from yet another hickey with a sickening pop, he placed his skull covered forehead right into your trapezius with a carnal snarl, “In or out, pet.”

You gasped out for a shaky breath of air against his rough thrusts, looking up into the ceiling as you arched your back in acceptance, “In!”

That was all he needed to hear, his pounding into your raw cunt becoming a feral mess of loud squelching and quickened slaps as his abdomen clenched and heavy balls tightened with the need to cum. You weren’t far behind, not in the slightest, as your mushy pussy began to spasm with your pulsing clit, your womb a burning fire that was ready to spread in an instant.

“Oh— cumming! Cumming, cumming, cumming!”

“Say it— say my fuckin’ name. Scream my bloody fucking name to whatever god is listening as you cum.”

That was it. You tipped right over the edge and screamed out his name, screamed out Simon. Your womb stuttered with each thread snapping and flushing throughout your core in convulsing heats, your hips bucking back into his as your eyes crossed up before fluttering shut. His arms quickly encased your body, wrapping around your waist and hugging you close as he fucked into you and coursed you right into overstimulation. With your arms caged under him, and your twitching figure forcing gurgled noises past your lips, he bottomed out inside of your cunt, sharp thrusts pushing every last drop straight into your womb and filling you to the brim.

Strained pants and groans puffed through the air as you came down from your highs, your legs shaking and possibly put out of commission from the restless fucking you had been given. The Lieutenant laid over your worn out body, resting his arms on the table to keep from piling too much weight on your small figure. He gazed at the mess of your spoiled skin from his markings, surging with pride over what he had done to his girl as his panting began to return to normalcy.

His attention snapped down to you, however, when he felt one of your soft fingers delicately trace along his tattooed sleeve, your eyes foggy while you looked over your shaky work. To keep his returning arousal down was a fucking war, but he managed when he noticed a gushing sensation ripple around his softening cock.

Ghost slowly sat up, running his hands over your sweaty skin to see what mess he had left between your quivering legs, and oh boy, did another war tear right through him when he saw that you had creamed all over his pelvis. His seed had began to spill out of your stretched hole, mixing with your own exertion as it traveled down your thighs and leaked straight from the source.

“Fuckin’ hell.. What a mess.”

You could only listen as he pulled out of your cunt, still keeping his form over your body in a protective stance just before he gently picked you up off the table and placed you on his lap when he sat in a chair. He pulled you close to him, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you finally managed to catch your breath and fill back with your lost sanity.

Stroking your back with a careful thumb, he peered down at you and spoke with a soft rasp, “You okay, love?”

You swallowed a forming saliva, wetting your dried throat before responding with a weak voice, “I’m okay.. I just hope they didn’t hear..”

Ghost couldn’t help the smirk that wiped onto his lips, “Oh, I’m sure they did. From the way you screamed my name, there’s no way they didn’t hear you creaming on my dick.”

You shook your head and nuzzled into his bunched shirt, sighing contently despite the sinful activity that just took place, in the debriefing room, no less, “God damn it..”

“Let’s go, MacTavish! You’re taking two minutes longer than last time!”

“Yes, sir!”

Price watched as Gaz and Soap wrestled around in the dirt, trying to overthrow one another as the spar continued. Ghost stood silent, arms crossed as he watched the two Sergeants have at each other, noting all their flawed advances and misses.

The Captain flashed his eyes towards his Lieutenant, gazing over his attentive posture before going back to the training, “Where is White?”

“I told her to sleep in for today.” He responded, eyes never once leaving the two men.

“I wonder why..” Price muttered, running a hand down his face with an amused scoff before returning it to his side, “You’re lucky I sent those two off to help with the luggage.”

Ghost just barely gave him a side glance, his own amusement underlying his blank stare before looking back at Soap tackling Gaz.

With a sigh of defeat, he shook his head as he crossed his own arms, “Your way of punishment astounds me, Simon.”

At this, he couldn’t help but let out his own thoughts, a subtle joking tone playing in his voice, “A little harsh directive time and again saves you the trouble, Price.”

“Yeah— saves me the trouble, grants you the pleasure.”

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goatcheesecak3 · 7 months

Note

Please write a "meet the parents" situation for rodrick officially meeting his partner's parents, I live for him actually trying so he could make a good impression >_<

Hello! Sorry this took a few days, but here it is!

Rodrick fished around in his drawer, desperately in search of his church clothes, the only things he had that weren't band shirts and skinny jeans. Tonight was a huge deal. He was finally going to meet y/n's parents. A formal dinner wasn't exactly in his comfort zone, but he was confident that he'd mage a good impression. He'd had a week to plan, he'd even swallowed his pride and asked his mother for help with conversational tips and how to impress parents. So, with a neatly pressed shirt on and a pair of smart looking shoes he'd borrowed from his father, he set out in his van to y/n's house. Although, he had one very important stop to make on the way. He made a small detour to a shop where he purchased some flowers and a bottle of wine - a nice bottle, a fairly pricey cabernet sauvignon - not the cheap stuff he usually got for himself. He knew middle aged people were always impressed when a young person turned up with a gift.

He parked just round the corner from y/n's house, unsure as to what her parents would make of the beat up white van with "löded diper" crudely spray painted on the side that he would often chauffeur their daughter around in. Walking up to the house he revised the tips his mother had given him. Be polite, smile, offer to help. Piece of cake.

He straightened himself up, and rang the bell. A woman in a neat blouse answered with a welcoming smile,

"You must be the famous Rodrick, come on in, I'm y/n's mother, (your mum's name)"

"Hi, it's lovely to finally meet you. I hope you like cab sauv and peonies," he smiled, handing y/n's mother the gifts.

"Well aren't you just a dear"

She escorted him to the dining room (before disappearing into the kitchen) where y/n greeted him with a smile.

"The wine was a nice touch" she winked at him, before giving him a brief kiss on the cheek.

"If I'm being completely honest, I'm absolutely terrified for tonight" he whispered, "I really hope they like me"

"You've got nothing to worry about baby, trust me, they'll love you"

At that moment, y/n's father emerged from the kitchen, he smiled reassuringly at Rodrick

"You certainly know the way to a middle aged woman's heart, lad" he chuckled, placing a firm hand on Rodrick's shoulder.

Rodrick was perplexed, which y/n picked up on

"He means you impressed mum" she giggled.

Rodrick breathed a sigh of relief

"Relax, boy! You don't need to be so nervous, we don't bite" y/n's dad said.

This certainly was going better than expected - almost too much better. Rodrick figured that y/n must have buttered up her parents real good, maybe even embellished some of his better qualities a bit, but that only added pressure. He was so sure that if they knew what he was really like they'd never approve of him, and how on earth could he live up to the perfect gentleman that her parents so clearly thought he was? He was left with only one option: to fake it. It was a foolproof plan, in front of y/n's parents he would no longer be Rodrick, drummer and founder of löded diper, he would be Rodrick, the academically talented, responsible young man.

"Do you need help setting the table?" He asked politely

"Haven't you got him well trained," y/n's dad joked to her, "it's alright son, just take your seat, me and the Mrs will sort that out"

The table was laid, the food placed neatly in front of the four, and Rodrick's wine had been poured into glasses for everyone. Rodrick made sure to compliment the food, and take small delicate bites, rather than scarfing it down like he did at home.

"So Rodrick, tell us how you and y/n met," y/n's mum enquired.

Rodrick's heart began to race. He couldn't possibly tell them that they met at a basement punk show where his band was performing, that wouldn't be very responsible-young-man of him. No problem, he had the perfect lie.

"We met in the... library, yeah that's right, the library. Can't get enough of that place with all it's uh.... books and... stuff"

Y/n shot him a confused look, but didn't say anything.

"Oh, well that's nice" y/n's mum said, but something was off. Did she not believe him? Was that not impressive enough? He had to step up his game.

"Yeah, it's really nice. You know, that's just the sort of thing me and y/n like to get up to together, studying, reading the classics and not staying out later than 8:30. Isn't that right y/n?" He said, stumbling over his words as he did.

Y/n's brow furrowed as she uttered a less than confident "Uhuh..."

"Right then," her dad said, feigning politeness.

It was no use. No matter what he did, Rodrick couldn't hide the fact that he was never going to be the type of guy parents like. He couldn't even fake it. He was more than embarrassed, he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. Looking down, desperately trying to hide his red cheeks, he mumbled some excuse about needing to check if he'd locked his van, then he legged it out the door, leaving a very confused y/n and her parents. He just had to get out of there.

"Y/n, sweetheart," y/n's dad said, "what in the fresh hell just happened?"

"I'm wondering that too," she replied, standing up from the table and heading to the front door, "I'll be right back".

She jogged down the road, where she found Rodrick sat on the floor leaning on his van, his face firmly planted in his palm muttering "you idiot" to himself.

"Uhhhh.. Rodrick? You wanna tell me what that was back there?" She asked, startling him slightly.

"I'm sorry, y/n, I really tried. I'm just not the sort of guy you bring home to your parents. They saw right through me." His gaze directed strictly towards the ground, he was far too humiliated to look at her.

"Yeah, no shit they saw through it Rodrick, I've told them all about you. They know you're not some goody two shoes bookworm"

"They do?" He lifted his head up slightly

"Of course they do," y/n said, sitting down next to him and taking one of his hands.

"They know all about the band, the fact that you hate studying, they even know that you taught me how to shotgun a beer"

"Wh... what?!" Rodrick spluttered, genuinely surprised, "why the hell did they even let me in their house?"

Y/n threw her head back laughing.

"Babe, my dad was in a punk band when he was our age, that's how he and my mum met. They like the fact that I'm not so uptight since meeting you, they say we remind them of themselves when they were younger"

"Wait... really?"

"Really, doofus" y/n smiled, giving Rodrick a playful jab in the arm.

Rodrick smiled, and planted a small peck on her cheek.

"I guess we better go back in and try again huh?" Y/n said, helping Rodrick to his feet

"Lead the way babe".

Upon returning to the dining table, Rodrick composed himself, let out a deep breath and finally spoke.

"I'm sorry about before, I'm not a book guy, I'm the drummer in a punk band called löded diper, the last book I read the whole way through was a beano comic, and I feel naked without eyeliner. So, that's it. That's the truth,"

Y/n's parents were silent for a second, before erupting into laughter.

"Well why didn't you say so!" Y/ns dad said, "Come on son, sit. Tell me about this band of yours..."

The rest of the evening flew by, y/n's parents reminiscing on anecdotes from their youth, while indulging in y/n and Rodricks more recent stories. It would appear that Rodrick couldn't have been more wrong, he was exactly the type of guy a girl brings home to her parents.

A/n hope you enjoyed :^) requests for fics / hcs are still open (sfw only)

#rodrick #doawk #rodrick rules #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick hefflei #rodrick headcanon #doawk rodrick #rodrick x reader #rodrick x y/n #rodrick fluff #rodrick fanfic #rodrick fanfiction #not my rodrick

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helenkordart · 13 days

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This was a bit of an insane project! I decided to draw all the designs from the various official arts we have gotten over the years. A bit of an archiving project! I tried to make them as accurate as possible. It involved a lot of guesswork tho, since most of them don′t show the full designs. Let′s just say that only 5 of these (and I mean five figures, not design sets lmao) show any kinds of shoes.

I do love seeing the design elements that carry over between the designs tho. Ququ is a cold boy and has to have some kind of fur or a scarf. Feng-er doesn′t want a speck of dirt to touch him and prefers high collars and bracers and high boots (the boots ARE book canon tho). I also love that there′s only three designs that have Ququ wear some kind of crown, the rest is just ribbons or nothing at all, despite the jade crown being mentioned at least once. Like no, we want the boy to be cozy and prevent headaches...!

Please tell me which designs are your favourite! Mine is the official manhua design, mostly because it′s honestly such a smart design, especially Ququ. Like you can tell the artist looked at Ququ and his specific disabilities and worked from there. Besides the hair ribbon, my favourite small detail is the arm warmers that look like compression gloves used for arthritis 🥹 That one means so much to me. Also the difference in layers between Ququ (I′m cold) and Feng-er (ew no dirt touch me ew). It′s just. So nice 🥹♥️

If you want the corresponding official arts, I′ve posted them in the thread on twitter! Anyway here′s which is which with more commentary lmao sorry I cannot shut up about these so much thought actually went into making them and this is the only place where I can actually talk about them properly 🥹

The designs from the first discontinued manhua- Some people in the fandom prefer these because they say they feel more adult but no, sorry, sure the art skill might be better but they just. Don′t feel like Fengcuis to me. Like I would′ve learned to love them but I′d never exchange them for the main ones we got. Plus the character designs changed between all the panels, so trying to chase down a specific design was hell. I′m glad Ququ showed up only in one panel so I didn′t have to do that again lmaoo

The designs from the official manhua- I already explained above why I love them so much. Just. These are THE designs for me. I see these little guys and my heart goes doki doki. If (when) I make lil standees, I′ll very probably use these

The designs from my favourite of the manhua covers- you don′t understandddddddddddddddddddddddddd I love this cover so much. To say I′m insane about it is an understatement. Just. Look at the cover art. Feng-er staring directly into the camera, challenging. Ququ looking soooo kissable. Their entwined fingers. Ququ wearing a jade bracelet in the colours of Feng-er′s robes. I′m just. Vrrrrrrr bark bark BARK. Also had to make MORE patterns for this one. Still not sure I did it proper justice tho 🥹

The manhua-canon modern au outfits- I still can′t believe we got a canon modern au where singer-spy Feng-er kidnaps doctor Ququ on a mission-date and has him hold a silly baloon all day and wear a cute little cap with a silly little cockatoo on it and then they wish each other a happy new year during a sunset on top of the ferris wheel AND I′M SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT IT???????????? Anyway Ququ in his tweed collection is so cute. Mwah. Best boy. Feng-er come on tug on his scarf and kiss him. Do it. Now

Designs from the covers of the traditional edition- these designs are pretty unique while still feeling in character, which is cool! Ququ is such a fancy lil lad here. And I′m obsessed with his... frog? Mousie? Front clasp. I made it a little fox because of course I did

Design from the 1st cover of the simplified edition- I don′t have that much to say about these honestly except that they′re very pretty. I love that Feng-er′s top robe is sheer and I love the silver embroidery, even if it took me some time to figure out how tf to draw it

Design from the 2st cover (Ququ) and 3rd cover (Feng-er) of the simplified edition- that Ququ design drives me crazy. He looks so soft and cozy, you wouldn′t guess that this is the meanest most repressed bitchiest man in all of ye olde Sui dynasty. I want to squeeze him. Cute agression overload. Meanwhile I couldn′t figure out what Feng-er′s belt and hem was doing pattern wise so I just winged it lol.

Fengcuis cosplaying a married couple with designs from the Thai vol. 1+2 freebie- God. Funniest arc in the entire book. They′re insane. They′re perfect for each other. Peerlessly matched. One day I′ll draw more of unhinged wife Feng-er because seriously. Their idea of heterosexual marriage is SO funny. They′re so real for that. And the og chibi designs are SO cute. Ququ′s sweaty little face. This was your idea gay boy, suffer

Audio drama designs from first half of season 1- These are so funny bcs the difference of the designs is like. Main covers: beautiful and ethereal. Minisode covers: Ququ is A Tube with a head on top. Slappy fights. Beautiful. No notes. TubeQu is a god′s perfect creature

Audio drama designs from second half of season 1- I said it before but these just feel too generic to be properly them. While drawing them they did kinda grow on me, at least Feng-er, since his expression is kinda perfectly smug. Im still ehhh on the Ququ tho. He′d look better without the crown.

Designs from Thai covers 1+2- oh man lol the thai covers. I was joking that I could not save the Feng-er, but he did grow on me. It might be that he looks proper manic with the chibi base I drew 😂 But he′d look so much cuter with bangs. Idk why the artist did him like this. Meanwhile Ququ is the most beautiful man alive. I mean it′s what he deserves, but it′s still very funny. Also LOVE how big and fluffy his collar is.

Designs from Thai cover 3- besides my other issues with the thai design, the colours on Feng-er just clash lmao I′m sorry, again why did the thai artist have to do him like this 😂 meanwhile the coat on Ququ is not a colour I′ve ever seen him in, but yknow what it works surprisingly well. He continues to be the most beautiful man around. Sorry king is that horrible peacock bothering you

#Peerless #Wushuang #无双 #FengCui #meng xishi #feng xiao #cui buqu #this took me like 2 hours to type out LMAO

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polysprachig · 2 months

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17.03.2024 | lá fhéile Pádraig sona daoibh and some borderline Merlin fanfiction in Irish ☘️🍄

*Currently learning to record and working on my reader voice—without dropping my mixed accent

Sometimes you plan to do something 4 years ago, then 2, and in the end you do it today. How long I thought it would take to improve my writing and translation skills before moving on to creative reading and how long it actually took differed quite drastically. But as I annotate the polyglot journal I started in 2020 (which is not the book pictured above), it's hard to feel like that's a bad thing, since I gave myself an appropriate amount of time to work on each stage of my projects at my current level without feeling the need to rush on to the next thing.

The audio here is cut from a set of blanket test recordings I made to test out some recording software, which is why it gives she-just-picked-up-the-text-and-started-reading-without-prep-time vibes.

Text in Irish and English below.

English translation shares the original sentiment but at a different register—as was my specific intention in this particular project.

Fadó, fadó chuaigh Merlin go Camelot.

Long before the days of yore and once upon a time Merlin went to Camelot.

Bhuel, shiúil sé chuig an gcathair agus teangacha a bhróg ag longadán anonn is anall agus é ar a bhealach ann.

Walked, rather, the tongues of his boots swaying back and forth as he made his way there.

Ní raibh ann ach stócach bocht thart faoin am sin agus ní raibh a fhios aige cén dóigh marcaíocht ar chapall a dhéanamh, agus ní raibh capall aige fiú!

He was only a young lad at that time and hadn’t the faintest idea how to ride a horse, but fortunately for him, he didn’t own one!

Ba bhuachaill deas is cairdiúil é Merlin. Bhí sé ard tanaí agus bhí gruaig dhubh, súile gorma, agus cluasa móra air.

A nice, friendly boy Merlin was, tall and thin with black hair, blue eyes and sizeable ears.

É sin ráite, níor éist sé le daoine eile ar chor ar bith – agus fadhb i gcroí an scéil seo a bheidh inti sin, déanta na fírinne.

Not that he used them to listen to anyone else – a truth which, I dare say, will be the problem at the heart of this story.

Mar sin féin, ní hionann sin ‘s a rá go raibh sé ag déanamh amaidí gach lá.

Be that as it may, he wasn’t one to make a complete fool of himself either.

Thuig sé rudaí praiticiúla, mar shampla: ná bí i do shuí ar do thóin nuair a bhuaileann tú le díbheargaigh sa choill, ná hól uisce as an áit naofa agus rudaí mar sin.

He knew such practical things as not to sit on his arse when he happened on bandits in the forest, not to drink water from a sacred well and things like that.

Cé gur thuig sé é sin, rinne sé a rogha rud freisin.

Still, Merlin was rather prone to do as he pleased.

Tugadh am crua dó, ach b’fhearrde sé é gan dabht.

It nearly always made his life more difficult, but what great test of character that turned out to be.

Chaith sé éadach glan buanfasach. Éadach donn a bhí i gceist den chuid is mó, ach bhí léine ghorm is scaif dhearg iontach deas aige freisin.

He wore clothes which were clean and durable and mostly brown to my recollection; yet he did have a blue shirt and a wonderfully lovely red scarf as well.

Ní raibh ach mála beag amháin aige chomh maith le pocán fíona, a luasc nuair a ghlac sé gach céim, agus éadach olla áisi��il ar chodail sé air.

With him he carried only a small rucksack, a wineskin which rocked to and fro as he took each step, and a handy, woollen blanket to sleep on.

Bhí sé an-ghaofar nuair a chuaigh Merlin thar na sléibhte ar an mbóthar gainimh, ach mhothaigh sé an ghrian ar a aghaidh. Bhí sé te go leor.

A strong wind blew as Merlin traversed the mountains on the sandy road, but the sun on his face shone warm enough.

Bhí lá breá geallta don lá, rud a rinne radharc an tírdhreacha i bhfad níos áille.

The day was proving, as promised, to be a fine one and that made the view of the landscape even more beautiful.

Bhí féar glas agus rosáin bheaga ag fás taobh le cosán an tsléibhe, crainn ghiúise ina sheasamh ar charraigeacha na n-aillte, sruthanna beaga sneachta ag soilsiú ar cheann an tsléibhe agus néalta geala ag síneadh go bun na spéire.

Green grass and small shrubs grew along the mountain path, fir trees towered on the rocky cliffs, little streams of snow glistened on each mountain peak and bright clouds stretched as far as the eye could see.

Ní fhaca sé Camelot fós agus bhí tinneas cosa air, ach níor chuir sé sin moill air.

He could not yet see Camelot and his feet grew weary, but his pace never slowed.

Le fírinne, bhí an-dúil ag Merlin sa turas mór agus bhí sé sásta, is dócha.

Truth be told, the journey was quite enjoyable for Merlin and he was generally content to be on it.

#happy st patrick's day everyone #its basically a frame by frame description of the first few seconds in ep 1 #with a narrator #langblr #studyblr #mo chuid staidéir #irish #gaeilge

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pliablehead · 8 months

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I guess if I want to write a travelogue/write up post about my 4-stop journey following the first chunk of Everything Everything's 2023 US tour then I have to just... do it!! If this is of interest to anyone other than me then GREAT and if not then it's still special to me to try to write down and remember everything I can uwu

FIRST STOP WASHINGTO-- wait, no, actually, first stop, on my way out of town, the local donut shop in my neighborhood, a place that I absolutely adore and patronize all the time with staff who mostly know me by now/some of whom are my instagram friends/etc. i'd checked with the Pittsburgh venue ahead of time to see if it was okay to send in outside food as a gift to the band even though they have a cafe/bar in their own right, and whoever I corresponded with said it would be totally fine, so I talked to the donut shop manager and set up a delivery of a dozen for the lads for Saturday before their show here. advance paid for that, as well as getting my own breakfast and coffee hehe, and then hit the road. OKAY FOR REAL FIRST STOP WASHINGTON DC!!! This was the second-longest leg of my Car Driving and it was definitely a wee bit exhausting but I had a podcast or two and a ton of E E on shuffle to bolster me through and I made it to my mom's friends' house, where I was staying, with relative ease. The venue was within a not-too-unreasonable walking distance too so after a change of clothes (I had very distinct and deliberate Show Outfits for each night that were fully separate from my travelin' clothes) and a bunch of fussing with the bracelets™ I headed over!! stopped for empanadas and a smoothie on the way and then queued up!!

aaaaahh this was such a nice fun queue. I was maybe about a dozen-ish people back from the front, down about half a block, and once I finished scarfing down my food this was my first real experience with doling out the bracelets. so fun! I'm glad it was basically an instant hit! AND I even got a few trades in this queue--one person gave me a Man Alive / Tin / E E bracelet with teeny tiny beads, super fun, and one person with a SHITTON of kandi stuff gave me one that had the name of a flower genus on it?? i think they said it was?? I love the colors on this one! And one person traded me a Blow Pop. lmao. I should eat that before it sits in my fanny pack for too long. I also really enjoyed chatting with the two guys right in front of me (Nick and Alex?), who were from south-central PA and had a couple other fandom touchstones in common with me (mcelroys/dnd/BDG! I love this Venn diagram!!) as well as a big love for E E. We didn't really see much of each other beyond the point of getting inside but I liked y'all a lot!! Hope you had as great a time as I did!!

Black Cat is where I saw E E the first time I EVER SAW THEM, which was almost exactly six years ago from this gig, which is insaaaane. The space is kind of narrow so there's not a huge amount of stage barrier space right at the front, so Becky and I ended up pretty much at the front but almost aa-all the way stage left/Jeremy-side. coulda been worse hehehe. We kind of loitered and chatted with nearby folks, I think maybe becky checked out merch ahead of the show ? but I kind of just held down the fort, enjoying setup stuff, pete running around etc hehe. getting BLASTED by the AC, which was nice.

the ummmm the opener! our first experience with Pierre! I gotta say his general style is not for me, despite the fact that I do think he's very talented and good at the thing he's doing. this first night especially he was SO sweaty and I felt bad for him lmao, you could like see it dripping off him. i am so curious as to why/how he got paired with the boys for this tour, like, what aligned in such a way that this match was made, because my general vibe on the crowd/his audience/etc was that we the fans of the nerdy white english mathy rocker guys were not exactly his demo LOL. BUT i will say in DC I do think he had one little pocket of strong-contingency fans because I kept hearing big whoops and cheers coming from one specific audience spot and I loved that for him lmao. for some reason i cannot explain I actually almost found his backing/support musician guy (the guy who was basically his version of peter) more compelling. I wanna know THAT dude's story lol.

so when he finished up we had a little interlude aaaannndd the setlist appeared... hehe. I could def have peered up to look at it from where I was, but I was telling myself I wanted to be surprised, and was deliberately looking away........ until suddenly everyone around me was gasping and going HOLY SHIT and I was like, ugghhh okay, I will check JUST enough to figure out what that's all about, and what that was all about was immediately apparent because smack in the middle of the set were a Man Alive track (which we never get in the states bar MY KZ) and something that just said "New Song." AND LIKE, OKAY, THAT'S A JUSTIFIED HOLY SHIT. new song????? so now we had THAT to contend with coming up, and aaaaaaah. ahh. yeah holy shit indeed.

it's also while we're standing there that AG pops into view, (or maybe I first spotted him during Pierre's set? Chronology is irrelevant), back off behind Becky from me in the other direction, and we waved over at him to say hi and he says to us, "All four of them are bleached blond." And my gut instinct was to be like, I DON'T BELIEVE YOU, but also the truth in my heart was that there was absolutely no justification for not believing them, because of course they would, and sure enough these bozos roll out onto the stage and they are all four draco malfoy-ass bleach blond. God it looks a mess on Jeremy LOL and while the color/dye job wasn't bad on Alex, it was clear his finer hair wasn't holding up as well against the chemicals because it was just a fluffy riot mess. BUT GOD IT WAS REALLY SO INCREDIBLY STRIKING OF A VISUAL for them to be all be wearing all pure white/beige clothes and then to have this bleach-white hair and all of it catching and glowing under the stage lights... god... clearly the effect they were going for and it WORKED, IT REALLY DID. I think it looks so damn goofy (mostly on jez) out of context but it's ABSOLUTELY nailing the Everything Everything Gig Costumes energy/uniform thing that I felt like they'd drifted away from a little the past couple tour cycles, I'm so incredibly here for it

The set!!!! The gig!!!!!!! it wasn't a wildly different set from what we'd seen in CA last year, obviously RDF-heavy supplemented with a heaping helping of singles from the other albums too, but I remember thinking Leviathan and Pizza Boy were especially excellent aaaah. And Schoolin'! And the NEW SONG! The two pieces of it I IMMEDIATELY absorbed and retained were 'the image of a little yellow face to tell you that I'm sorry' and 'I love you like an atom bomb,' and I was spouting those two pieces back to anyone who wanted to talk to me about it for the rest of the night. I'm so lyrics-pilled/vocalist-biased. Which was.... Unfortunate, for this DC gig, because I do think the audio mix was pretty rough - at least from where we were standing so close to the front, I wonder if it was at least a tiny bit better further back into the crowd in the area the sound system was probably primarily calibrated for - and we were REALLY losing Jon in the mix, especially underneath how enthusiastically the crowd was singing along a lot of the time. We were on Jeremy's side of the stage and we were really just getting a LOT of Jeremy. (Which, the bass did sound absolutely fantastic, so hard to complain about that, at least, but still.) I was very thankful to be going to a few more gigs beyond this one so that this wasn't my only experience with it, especially New Song!!! Plus there were a bunch of other little tech difficulties too? Near the beginning of the new song, Jon's guitar strap came detached and wouldn't reconnect, and after struggling a bit with that he decided to just drift back and pass it off the stage to their tech guy--but he was still kind of singing/holding the mic, so as he moved on stage, the mic cable yanked the microphone stand straight over, too. Then the rest of the night that stand was pretty precarious and nearly fell two other times, only caught at the last minute by a true homie who was standing directly in front of it in the audience lmao. I think Becky yelled HIRE HIM! at one point. Annnnd also for like a whole verse of NOTLK jez's bass boards just kind of Gave Up. He tried switching to his other instrument but that wasn't working either, and then finally it all sort of came back online, so he played a little stretch with the wrong bass and then was able to switch back to the right bass when there was a lull in his part. SHAMBLES. lmfao. god it was a great gig though. SO FUCKING GOOD TO BE BACK I LOVE BAND UWAAAAAHH I WAS SO SWEATY AND HAPPY

afterrrr da gig, we needed very badly to drink water and so we managed to do that I believe, and we kind of loitered in the Merch Line Situation trying to figure out what was going on. I had kind of resolved not to buy merch until at least NY, part because I really didn't want to be lugging anything around with me for too much of my trip (esp on this night where I walked) and part because I'd read a post that Irving Plaza was among the venues who'd committed to not taking a cut of band merch sales and letting them keep it all, and I was like, well obvi that's where I want to spend my money. Plus it was cash only in DC and since I'd kind of told myself NY I didn't even have cash out, so it was nothing. BUT!!! homie Adrian whomst I had met at the DC Foals show last December had been there, a few people ahead of me in the queue and also rocking out yaayyy, and he was trying to get merch but the ATM inside the venue literally did not have any more cash left inside it to dispense because everyone was taking out so much of it to buy merch AAAH. so he reached out to me like 'you're going to more shows than just this one right?' and asked if I'd pick him up the stuff he wanted later and then mail it to him so he didn't have to contend with international shipping and I was like aaaah absolutely! yay gig comradeship!

so I think becky finally committed to getting in the merch line and I was mostly just waiting With Becky and there weren't a ton of people left because the venue was trying to clear out, but the handful of us who were still there, a wild Alex Robertshaw appeared up near the stage/bar. we vibed out whether he was receptive to Fan Bothering at this time but it seemed legit, so a bunch of us went over and socialized with him and took some pics, got some signatures, etc, woooo. We tried to vibe out from him also if the other guys were gonna be coming out, and when and where, but y'all know Alex is the awkwardest member of this band by a country mile and we didn't really have too coherent of a discourse at this point in time lmao. Not sure who talked to him about what at this point as I was just trying to hold down the fort and be Normal. I was able to give Alex the bracelet I'd made for him at this point (he was so cute studying on it and reading it ahaha - "rave-- kevin-- kevins rave KEVIN'S RAVE" and he smiled and I felt cool), and also meanwhile Pete was still running around stage doing roadietech type stuff and I sort of politely flagged him down like "do what you need to do if you need to do it but also: Hi lol" and I got to give him his bracelet as well! yay ♥. He complimented my shirt--I'd been getting a lot of compliments on it honestly, it's their Yellow Bird Project shirt that Jon designed some time ago, only I replaced the plain white sleeves of the original unisex tee with some sort of vermilion "girly fit" sleeves that are more comfy to me and kind of give the shirt a different look haha--and I sort of joked on that, said as much, oh, I swapped the sleeves out, "It's to cover up how sweaty I get." and Pete gave me a deadpan look and went "You don't even want to go there with me" and I was like "YEP I FEEL MUCH THE SAME" and I think we both enjoyed a moment of feeling very Seen about the sweatiness hehehehehe. I love Pete he is my heckin Friend With no additional merch purchases (merchases) (hm, no) the venue was finally for realsies ejecting us so we drifted back out into the streets and just like... okay... now what........ this was the point at which I think our Band Groupie-ing Crew became me, Becky, Danielle in the fox ears/tail, and a lanky youth named S.P. whom I'd talked to in line earlier while doling out bracelets (he had the good E E baseball cap; he asked for an Arc bracelet and I commended him for being an Arc fan, since I feel like they are a dwindling/rarer breed, and then I offered up my hot take that Violent Sun is just the second coming and second pass at Duet, which he thought was spicy, and then he asked for my most controversial E E take and I told him that I don't really like Tin very much and he told me he doesn't really like Shark Week very much and we agreed to disagree and have a good night LOL) (anyway I digress !). It was a warm enough night and none of us really had places to be so we didn't mind just loitering and trying to suss out some more Guys other than just Alex and Pete, but slowly but surely we became basically the only fans left sticking it out. so we stuck together! We split up to try to find if there was a rear stage door at the back and SP and I went one way (the long way RIP) and Becky and Danielle went the other way and it turns out the way that SP and I went was an alleyway just FULL of rats. Too many rats in DC!! People like to talk about rats in NYC but I saw WAY more in Washington just vibing out on the sidewalks and eating trash. I'm not anti-rat, they live there and deserve to live, but oh man it was just. I did not especially want a rat encounter LOL. The rat alley DID actually lead us to where the bus was though!!, but there was also a venue security guy there who was immediately like "Nope, back up, leave, bye" and we were like. understood have a nice day, and doubled around a different way to meet back up with the other two. wwwwelp.

We loitered a bunch more and eventually saw Alex and his homies like, AT LEAST two more times, but we ultimately never saw anyone else. They p much confirmed for us that because this was the first night of the tour, they had a really intense load-out, and everyone was jetlagged to all fuck, that they probably wouldn't ever make it out, even though at least once Alex had said something ambiguous/optimistic enough to imply that they might yet, but really it just got SO late that we couldn't justify still being there for nothing instead of being like. asleep. lol. SP and Danielle got rideshares, Becky and I walked back as far as her hotel together, and then I hiked the rest of my way back too and went the fuck to SLEEP!!! FIRST GIG IN THE BOOKS!! WHAT A LOVELY NIGHT GOD IT WAS JUST SO BEAUTIFUL TO BE SEEING THEM AGAIN ngl I think the blond is really attractive on Mike with his darker brows/beard and I'm always a sl*t for jonathan so like. beautiful. finally some delicious fucking food

it was super nice of my mom's friend to let me stay with him!!! I was so delighted to see his cats again, I remembered them from the last time I was there like six or so years ago, they're sooooo floofy and beautiful aahh. he also provided me with a white noise fan without me even asking which was SO choice. zzzzz. My plan was to get up in the morning, get coffee someplace nearby at wherever he recommended, and then hit the road forrrr... Philadelphia!!! Night two!!!! I got some breakfast tacos at a hella legit place, messed up my coffee/milk/sugar ratio ever so slightly but not in an undrinkable way, and then frickin. autobot rolled out. This drive was not bad at ALL, I timed it pretty much exactly like I planned it to, which was to: get to my friend's place where I was crashing in philly with, ideally, enough time to take a small nap before I had to do anything else, because, god, despite being pretty exhausted and sleeping okay on the nice guest bed in DC, I had BARELY slept the night before I left just from Travel Antsiness and from both staying up way later and waking up way earlier than I meant to unintentionally, and a second little recharge zzz before I went and did it all over again really hit the spot.

It was soooo nice to see Mads again and to see Mr. Angus and also meet BENNY!! More host cats!! They are suuuch silly good little lads, Mads and I had a ton of Kitty Chat and just vibing out and talking about concerts and fandom and stuff, I was so thankful she let me stay with her and getting to hang out was icing on the cake of this trip! She pointed me toward the trolley I'd need to take to get to the venue, and after my baby snzzz and drinking a ton of water and suiting up in my Arc-inspired look (literally just a sweatshirt dress I bought specifically because it was color-blocked very very much like the jackets/outfits they toured Arc in, I saw it and bought it immediately lmfao) I journeyed into the city, hoping to just find a place to eat in the vicinity of the gig! I was way closer up in the queue this time, the people in front of me were really just like.... the usual suspects, Annika+squad and David+squad (incl. Becky, who'd apparently already been there when I got there but wasn't there when I arrived), and also a super-nice woman immediately in front of me named Robin who I MEGA hit it off with!!! Hanging out with her was such an awesome part of my experience at this gig!!! she's COMPLETELY Offline which is so powerful for her but I hope there's some capacity in which we can continue to be friends because she ruled.

There was a Dominican(? I think) place like one block down from the venue where a couple in front of me had gotten some stuff and so I ran down there to snag food too and holy shit this man gave me so much goddamn food. Just a HUGE pile of rice and beans and some pork ribs, and I got a pineapple fanta, and I just popped a squat on the sidewalk and ate as much of it as I could which was probably not even half of what he gave me but it wasn't even that expensive so god bless. Once I wasn't dealing with my food sitch any more I was freed up to pass out a bunch of bracelets again, and I even got a couple more trades, one that was just a bunch of black beads and a bunch of Xs and one that says 'BUSSY' which I am elated about, thank you so fucking much lmao. Also someone offered to trade me an ibuprofen LOL and I was like no that's fine the bracelet can be free... for now, but I will keep that in mind if I change my mind later LOL aaahhh i was just so excited to give the bracelets out it was such a good vector for socializing and making Friends and Gig Buddies. I did learn p quickly at Philly that I should have made way more Man Alive, GTH, and Raw Data feel bracelets because those were basically the first to go every night and then I got stuck with just sad unloved Re-Animators and AFDs :( I was trying to like! do equal amounts of everything to give everything the love because I love them all! but people got favorites out there damn lmao. I was happy to be able to give Robin the MY KZ one because she said that's the first song she ever heard by them and it's special to her because of that (and then also it's been in the touring set and she got to hear them perform it too yay!!! I don't remember if she said she'd seen them before but it had just been a very very long time, or what, idk, aaaah).

We were R I G H T on the stage at this venue, slightly more to Alex's side this time, and the lip/rise of the stage was not very high at ALL and it felt almost like... intimidating, or like it shouldn't have been ALLOWED, for us to be that close to the stage. :flushed emoji: jeez lmao. I didn't fuck w merch here either but some people around me did I think and I held their spots, and a nice kid from right behind me in the queue brought me a Liquid Death which was so incredibly sweet. Pierre's set passed much as it had in DC, lmao; his other musician guy had a sweet fit on, though, this like two-piece set that was a really really dark/muted camo, a blazer over a black top and then matching like athleisure-fit pants and black boots, it was a fuckin look. They had a song at the very end of Pierre's Philly set that I don't think they'd done in DC (and that I didn't get in PGH either, it turned out), and ironically that was actually probably far and away the song of his I enjoyed the most, so I got kind of into it there at the end! but MAN was I ready to see the boys instead. hnnnn.

LADS SO CLOSE TO ME. JUST RIGHT THERE AND SINGING AND ROCKING. the set was aaaalmost exactly the same as DC, but in Philly they shifted Bad Friday up out of the encore and back into the set proper, and then replaced it in the encore with Violent Sun, which I admit I'd been bummed to not see in DC because I think the Violent Sun/No Reptiles encore double whammy is so incredibly crucial to the vibe. Warmed me to have it back in. Obviously Pittsburgh had so many other contributing factors that put it over the edge, but if it weren't for all of those, I think Philly would've been my favorite/best experience of these four gigs. Jon was spicy (he sang so many of the Original Rejected naughty lyrics, this is where we got 'he's a vegetable now' for the first and only time and also the only gig of the four where he leaned into the 'Arch Jeremy' gag in Arch Enemy, hehehehe, plus also motherfuckin' distant past which is not uncommon), and we got way more of the New Song-- through the whisper network of Becky, AG, David, etc., etc., we'd pieced together enough info to know by now that apparently the title of the song was in the lyrics of the chorus, and so I think it was in Philly that we all pretty much determined/decided that this was Cold Reactor. I love you like an atom bomb and I've become a cold reactor. I wasn't diving as DEEP into SONG DECIPHERING as some other folks were, but I did like kind of working on it at my own pace and absorbing it into my heart and my understanding of the band and what they're about to start doing, and so this was really great, for me, here, beautiful, beautiful. I took almost NO pics and vids at this one because my phone was kind of dying but also mostly just because I was honestly having such an enormously great time and I didn't feel the need to try to do anything other than be present in my body at the gig and experience it live. you KNOW?? LIKE!! MUSIC. man. EDIT TO ADD: I forgot to mention a small tech flub that was actually so charming, where near the very end of Arch Enemy jon seemed to be having trouble with his guitar board in the front, and he spent so long in the outro squinting down at it and trying to resolve the issue that he didn't fully come in on the It's time to show your face! bit at the proper time, and he ended up just saying "It's time to show your face." right into the mic very unaffected and straight-up in his regular speaking voice at the very, very end when the song was basically over. lol. he is cute. everyone is cute.

(I WILL ALSO SAY I got the giggles SO BAD at david and amanda's gudetama they slipped onto the stage, oh my god--I was going to take a joke video just dramatically zooming in on it, as one does, except right when I went to do that it got caught up in jon's mic cable and just TUMBLED AND JOSTLED ALL OVER THE PLACE and that fucking GOT me and I was DYING and it was right at like. the serious, heartstring-tugging, fuck-yeah parts of No Reptiles where I'm supposed to be at CHURCH and instead I'm losing my shit into hysterics over this poor gudetama just rolling everywhere alksdhjglaksd, I had to bury my face in Becky's shoulder for a measure or more and try to recover, oh my godddd. EGGS!) -- (OH ALSO I LMAO I HAVE SEVERAL AUDIENCE MEMBER ~BITS THAT I AM DOING just like, clapping here or there, participating actively in certain parts of things, and one that I kept doing for some asshole clown reason was singing along with/lampshading Alex's quick backing vox on the second verse of Spring Sun Winter Dread-- Philly was probably the place where I was the most prominent/obvious/easy to see doing it, and it made both him and Jeremy REALLY snicker, ahahaha I'm sorryyyyyyy for being obnoxioussssss)

The merch/loitering sitch was sli-iiightly more locked down, in here; there was only so long Marty and I could pretend to be thinking about merch/hanging out with people who were actually in line but not actually being in line before they really truly wanted us to leave, and they were pretty pissed that I even left the venue with an empty/ice-only water cup, never mind any dreams of re-entry. The militant energy of the security at this venue compared to how relatively chill and normal DC had been (for two venues I would say of comparable size/seriousness) was def my least favorite part of the Philly experience. I was outside, finishing my water and chitchatting with some artsy youths who were also unimpressed with security, and Becky's messaging me like "they're in here!" and I'm like "well I'm not and I can't come back so you gotta tell them to come out here!" lmao. But they did!!! All the guys came out before too long and I very delightfully got to talk to everyone. I gave Mike and Jeremy the bracelets I'd made for them - THEY both apologized to ME outright for not coming out to chat the night before?? like hello you’re the band we’re the fans you don’t owe us anything - they kind of came toward my side of the door first, and talked and chatted some, vs Jon sort of peeling the other way to the other half of the loiterers - I honestly have lost track of the sequence of events here and what happened when, but it was largely unimportant hehe. (Gosh, but then I keep randomly remembering other unrelated details. Like, for example, Black Cat gave me their big ol' signature black cat hand stamp, and I'd been thinking, oh this will be fun to watch my four hand stamps stack from these four gigs, the way I got two together from The Altogether/Matt Duncan double feature back in July, and then Underground Arts put theirs on the INSIDE OF MY WRIST and not the back of my hand, and both Irving and T-Bird just did wristbands. BUMMER.) But mostly just Seeing Band, Talking To Band. This was when I overheard Alex definitely confirm to someone that the new song is called Cold Reactor, and he sort of half-seriously half-not said they just didn't call it that on the setlist in case there was another "New Song" they might want to decide to start playing there instead at the last minute, even though the longer this goes on the more confident we are that they're not going to do that and that Cold Reactor is gonna be a new single that probably drops once this tour is over <___< eyes emoji. Also, between Wednesday and Thursday we also knew that the bleach-blond hair is for Lore Reasons, which we assume are to do with Cold Reactor and the album it will be on, because of course it is. stupid. jonathan higgs I want to crawl inside your deranged pisces mind and meld with it vulcan style.

anyway, as far as my short term memory can be relied upon/will tell me is the truth, I think Jon was actually the last person I ended up in contact with on this night; I was drifting over toward him but someone else was still engaged in an active conversation with him, so I was like, well obviously I will wait my turn and let other people have jonathan time even though I'm the biggest jonathan girlie, I can just hang and go in when he frees up, and so I was turned slightly away from him listening in on other convos and talking to Becky and maybe Annika or a couple other people, and then suddenly there's a delicate hand on the back of my shoulder and Jon's right in my fucking ear ominously going "hello." askdjhgka. He was soooo cute and nice, I gave him the bracelet I made him as well (which was "I wanna be there" from Violent Sun and shades of re-animator orange) and he was immediately like Oh, of course you, are the bracelet distributor, and I was like hehehe yes, and he asked if I also had to do with the gudetama and I was like absolutely not I have no idea what is going on there lmfao. and I think amanda and david did take credit for it at that time of course so yes hehe. Ended up in a fun casual chitchat with Jon and Becky for most of the rest of the time here, with her trying to squeeze him for info about the new song and album and lore hehehe and him being his typical cryptic trolly cagey Jon, and it was all in incredibly good fun; he noticed her bracelet too, and she pointed it out like Yes I got the one that says This Is The Prophecy from big climb because it hearkens back to that bit they were doing on twitter from way before that song even came out so I gave her that one on purpose duh lol, and Jon says "Oooh yep I forgot about that. .. Album..." and mimed swiping his hair back like whoopsie lmao and it was such a silly little half-self-neg on Re-Animator lol, and so I said "WELP too bad! because the one I made from you is one of those too haha!" and he took another look at it as if to remind himself about it and then went "Well yeah that one's good" with a wryer wickeder laugh and I was like lmao tell us how you really feel. But like he's right violent sun is perfect and I actually labored so long over what I was going to have jon's say because he was the only person I didn't have a really solid concrete idea of what to make for and ALSO he was the only one I REALLY wanted to get PERFECT because it's important to me and yeah. so it was. reassuring for him to like the violent sun one. idk anyway.

The woman we'd seen running around doing a lot for them, including merch, who recognized us from DC the night before and was fun and glib about it, and who turns out to be: Tour Manager Sam, finally had enough of our fucking about and started very efficiently organizing us all into "everyone who wants a pic with themself + all four guys come get in Now and I'm gonna play photographer and then we all gotta go the fuck home" and I respected it SO much lmao, so we had sort of a rotating queue of group picture taking and then the guys all went back inside the venue (I kind of fingerguns'd Jon like "New York :D?" and he looked at me just SO Put Out and just deadpanned "Of course you're going to be there." of course!! lmfao) and we started talking amongst ourselves just out of reluctance to let the night end/social energy we still wanted to wallow in and that was cute and nice. I said goodbye to some folks who weren't going any further on the tour. I had such a wonderful night. Then, lo and behold, we turn around and Jeremy's up on the stoop of the venue, and he's like, I think I've locked myself out. I am locked out and I also don't have my phone on me. lmfao jez. he goes "I am going to blame jonathan" and we allowed him that. I was like, do you want me to TWEET AT SOMEONE LOL and he was like good god no they'll come back for me eventually, and then yes they did, and THEN we all left hahahaha. becky insisted on sticking with me part of the way to the trolley but I was like, it is coming in 14 minutes and it says it's gonna take me 12 minutes to get there I gotta GO!, and I freaking missed it anyway!!! and then I had to wait like OVER HALF AN HOUR MORE for the next one and i didn't even get ON the trolley till like 12:50 and it was soooo late before I was back at mads's place aiyaa. But, all in all, TRULY SUCH A GOOD NIGHT I JUST LOVE BEING IN AN ACTIVE BUZZY FANDOM SPACE AND MEETING FANS AND PARASOCIALING AND DANCING AND SINGING AND DOING ARTS N CRAFTS. you KNOW?? you know. you're on tumblr you get it.

The Philly to Jersey (pre-NYC) leg of my road tripping was set to be Thee shortest drive I had to make the whole time, so I let myself have time in the morning to keep snoozing and fucking about, even though I once again woke up way earlier than I'd hoped to and didn't ever make it back to sleep after that. But the tradeoff was still super nice and relaxing vibing with Madeline--I offered to buy her breakfast in exchange for the couch-crashin' and we got hella bagel sandwiches and cold brew from a place real close by her apartment, and scarfed 'em down while watching the most recent ep of Make Some Noise and just shooting the shit (again, largely about either fandom or kitty cats. We are simple folk). My sandwich contained salmon, a fried egg, and the most incredible sloppy caramelized onions, what a banger. The last truly good food I truly enjoyed before my mega super Travel Tummy set in and wrecked my whole shop metabolically speaking, rip. I took a little rinsy-rinse shower at her place too, and then finally made myself get up and Go to do the runaround silly business of driving to and parking in NJ, taking the ferry in to Manhattan, and then taking the subway to Allegra's place for NIGHT THREE IN NEW YORK CITY WOOOOO. I LOVE going to E E with Allegra!!!!! Once again I used her place primarily as a spot to change out of my car clothes and into my gig clothes (it's RDF night; I wore an oversized pale beige button-up shirt, actually left over from my Foals Antidotes costume from last halloween hahaha, gussied up with E E pins and jewelry) and to fuck about with bracelets. I made Allegra a special In Birdsong bracelet, the only one I did from that song :) because allegra is my special E E friend!! and she needs one of her special song!!! Fandom... is good. Allegra also had a kickass outfit. We stopped in at a tex-mex place she really wanted to try that was nearby the venue, and i got pretty nervous that it was gonna be a little late before doors for us to be hitting a sit-down dinner spot, but we rushed it along pretty well on the food and got our slice of dessert cake to go in a box and everything was A-OK. And I had time to hit a bodega for merch cash from the ATM and a pineapple soda for fortitude! let's GOOO irving plaza.

God, Irving was kind of a shitshow when it came to queuing and security though. There were a fair few people in line ahead of us, maybe just as many or slightly more than what I'd had in DC (definitely further back than Philly, although in line near us were the same also-eating-Dominican-food couple from the Philly gig, and I recognized them and was glad to see them again-- I FULLY DO NOT REMEMBER/DID NOT CATCH Y'ALL'S NAMES, AND I FEEL TERRIBLE BECAUSE WE HUNG OUT AND WORKED TOGETHER SO MUCH, i am so sorryyyyy), but then because it's not a sweet local friendly indie venue but is in fact Livenation As Hell, there's some person affiliated with the venue wandering up front offering some sort of VIP/fast pass line experience where you can just cough up some extra cash and get in your own special line and get to go in first regardless of how long other people have been queuing--you know the deal. Wack as hell. I think David and Amanda opted for this in some capacity, so I was happy for them about it, but a lot of the other people who ended up doing it had kind of rancid vibes of just like "concert-going" and not the very lovely communal sardine megafan energy everyone else had had thusfar. Also it put us where we were at in the queue standing in a place that just had a really terrible smell of sewage, which persisted almost the entire time we were there only to suddenly be replaced by a very powerful smell of bleach, as if whatever it was was suddenly being cleaned/sanitized. ICKY!! Annika was enough further ahead of us in line that I thought it might have only been over where we were but she said no she was definitely getting it too. new york city babey

Bracelet distribution got a little silly here, too, since the queue was wrapping SO far back and was being policed a little more stringently, but I had kind of figured I may need some kind of additional plan, especially since I'd decided not to wear my fanny pack (bum bag--fanny pack, says Jonathan Higgs in a derisive American accent, even as he's telling me he likes mine a lot, skdjshgalkj smh) since my shorts under my shirt had really capacious pockets and that just made for one less thing to worry about--I snagged a sheet of paper at Allegra's place, along with a gallon-size ziploc bag, and I put all the bracelets in there with a note that said to just take one if you wanted one and pass it back through the queue while we waited. It was kind of a crapshoot how effective I thought this was going to be, especially since I had to kind of wait to deploy it once there was a substantial queue BUT by the time there was a big queue it meant that I couldn't see exactly HOW big from where I was near-ish enough to the front, so I didn't know how far the bag was going to make it, if someone was going to end up stuck with my whole big bag at the back of the line (esp since I had a fair number of extra Philly bracelets left over that I lumped in with the NYC ones just because I still Had them).... whew...! BUT by the time Marty was there, he was further enough back from me that I asked him to kind of check up on it when it made it to him and keep passing it; and, by the time we were going inside, I could see zero sign of the bag itself but I DID catch a lot of people milling around me wearing bracelets, and one or two of them did stop me to thank me (since I'd indicated on my note in the bag that I was the person with green hair hahaha), and then I never saw 'em again, so I guess it was a relative success!! Yayyyyy!! WAY less conducive to making New Line Friends than the DC/Philly setup had been, but incredibly effective at making sure that all my bracelets found new homes rather than me having to take a huge handful home with me again and them just sitting in my house forever LOL. success! :)

tl;dr about the bracelets. not important compared to concert and band. WE GO INSIDE!! They have such dumb security/bag check. a gender-split process where the men get patted down by a dude guard and the women get patted down by a lady guard? In TYOOL 2023? you hate to see it. She felt the Sharpie in my back pocket and made me take it out and surrender it???? MY METALLIC BRONZE SHARPIE ? ? no sharpies in the venue I guess. Talked to at least one other person who got sharpie-confiscated too, but also at least two people who fully didn't and still had markers just fine. Absolute shenanigans. Allegra and I didn't quite get barrier due in part to fastpass line nonsense but we did end up right exactly behind Annika &co. with perfect sightlines, once again stage-left/Jeremy-ward-of-center. we don't hate it! my Philly pals to my left with David, Becky et al in front of them. Me fully surrounded by redheads. LOL.

this was the laaaatest show of my whole run, a whole lot of standing around just waiting for Band, and also definitely the energy of "trying to politely vibe to pierre kwenders's set because he can clearly see me and look straight at me even though I would much rather just skip to the bit I actually came for and don't necessarily need to see his set" just slowly increasing every night RIP lol. BUT WE MADE IT! ohhhh new york. EXACT same set as Philly but I couldn't even be mad about it because I was still so grateful to get a Man Alive song that wasn't just MY KZ (not that I don't love my kz obviously, but it HAS been in the set literally all eight times that I have seen E E live as of this Irving Plaza gig, and something else from that album is fun fresh delicious) (OH, SWEET THREEP OF FRIDAY EVENING, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW) and to be getting COLD REACTOR again, especially becaussseee by this point I knew just enough of the lyrics that I felt confident singing/mouthing along conspicuously with the parts that I Did know, aka I See You Sir I'm Doing The Thing Just Watch Me, god I wish I knew how to be not so fucking extra but then again no I don't. we did get saddled with some Rather Annoying audience members in our near vicinity--a couple I'd spotted in the fastpass line earlier wedged themselves hard between me and my tall redhead/mask-wearing homie from Philly, all like "ummm we're short :)" because they. were, but that didn't give them a right to be pushy and rude, and their vibes were kind of shit because the sense I got was they were mostly there because the girl really loved the band and the dude didn't know much about them at all, and also they were already drunk so early on in the set, and they were talking loudly with some other fans they'd just met and getting Lore™ explained to them and it was just a lot of. loud talking and shoving. in my vicinity. when I would have preferred for there to. not be. BUT Also materializing behind me was someone who said "I saw your bracelets on twitter do you still have any!!" and I had to be like UHHHH FUCK, NO, I turned them loose into the queue, did they not make it as far as you..?? and she sadly said no, and I was like, well the only one I have left is this one I just left on for tradesies/advertising purposes, and it says "akon in the butterfly house" so that's kind of a deep cut, if you're familiar-- and she went WAIT REALLY and seemed SUPER jazzed to get a Dave Sardine-ass bracelet and I was like OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT, GOOD, ACTUALLY, because I'd made four of these and I knew they were going to be the deepest cut/hardest sell and I was really really hoping that whoever ended up with them would actually get and appreciate them. so thank you, andrea, for being that person, and for appearing exactly when the bracelet needed it most. so glad to have hung with you this night. sorry that you too found yourself among the ranks of the sharpie-confiscatees.

ANYWAY, OTHER THAN THAT, THIS AUDIENCE WAS FIRE AND THIS GIG SLAPPED. We were finally in a space and an environment that REALLY lent itself to the crowd actually full on bouncing/dancing instead of just kind of wobbling and vibing and everyone in my immediate zone was really going hard. I LOVE this fucking BAND. I love every song by this band. I love when Jon just points the mic at the crowd and the entire crowd sings the whole song word for word and note for note. I love that Jon was still desperately trying to cram the name of the host city into the start of My Kz, despite the fact that "Washington" subs for "Lucifer" perfectly (he has done this both times I've seen them in DC lol) but "Philadelphia" is WAY too stupid long and "New York City," while a syllable shorter, scans metrically in an extremely busted way and you could have just said EN WHY CEE or. y'know. lucifer. but okay man you do you. Jon was just as rowdy as the rest of us lmfao. he was like, climbing up and down off Mike's riser, he was finding people who were taking photos/videos and staring directly into their cameras (me fucking included--I'm sorry, Jon, you can't make eye contact with me while singing the "When I saw you, I fell in love" part of Leviathan, I am pretty sure that is illegal and a crime against my humanity), and basically all the tracks from Get To Heaven (plus like, Cough Cough and NOTLK) blew the fucking roof off the place. I think he donked some My Kz lyrics hehehe he just skipped to the alt lyrics of the chorus too early without completing the standard chorus first at the end, and a little flubbo in NOTLK and a tiny stutter in No Reptiles too, everyone was just TOO ROWDY and he's THROWN LOOPY and man did we not care. I said multiple times to people on this tour that pretty much the closest things I've ever experienced to true Religion are a) being in an E E audience for No Reptiles and b) being in a Hedwig audience for Midnight Radio. they're the same spiritually in my heart and also like do people who love Jesus feel this way and is this why. insane. the cult leader imagery was Not Wrong!!!!!

I wanna MERCH! I got in the line not too long after the show wrapped, but true to reports I'd heard about the pre-show merch line, it was moving verrryy slowly, with just one guy manning it who was not exactly quick and a card reader that seemed pretty chuggy too (but hey, at least NY was taking card). I'd known I wanted the poster--it's got my favorite neon orange on it, it really really slaps, and I wanted something to get signed--but I let myself talk myself into a t-shirt too, mostly because I was REALLY excited to buy E E merch apparel that wasn't black or white. Yellow!! a really freaking good yellow!! I wish the yellow ones had actually had the tour dates on them like the black and white ones did but the yellow branding has been pretty exclusive to this leg of tour (i.e. vs the red branding of the west coast one last year) and it looks soooo good with my hair that I don't especially mind. I also knew that Adrian wanted a copy of Caps Lock On, but that he also wanted a shirt, but I hadn't heard back from him about which shirt or what size so I just got the book and my stuff and then bounced. Communique from outside was that Alex had surfaced but no one else, but that Alex had promised appearances by the rest of them, but that also Alex was already gone and unlikely to return by the time I made it outside. I posted up with all my friends from inside, god this was SUCH a good sardine squad this night, and it took some waiting but eventually the promises came true! All the other boys surfaced and we had some REALLY great fan chats and mingling this tiimmmmee. oh my gosh. A guy came with a Modern Bison CD that Jon and Jeremy were really truly overjoyed to see and to sign and take pictures with; I talked to Jeremy about the bracelets some more because he'd been wearing the one I gave him the WHOLE GIG IN NEW YORK SO LIKE THAT'S GONNA BE IN ANY PHOTOS THAT WERE TAKEN PROFESSIONALLY SPEAKING, oh my gosshhh, he was so nice about it and enjoyed that his Arch Jeremy matched my Arch Emily, the vibes were impeccable; and then I got everyone to sign my poster, but of course Alex was gone already, so Jon offers to forge Alex's signature and goes "look it's like this" and draws some loopy scribble on there and I'm like, lmao, sure.

thing was... I had absolutely heard Jeremy signing something for someone else the night before talking about how he was getting really good at forging Alex's signature for him, since I guess it's normal for him to be the one that disappears the sneakiest (god he really is just the Justin Craig of this band, it's 1:1, huh), and so when I told Jeremy this, he was like "I'll do it" and I was like "no Jon did already do it" and he was going to just leave it then, like, oh, well, okay, but then he saw the mess Jon had made and he was like "--that's quite dreadful actually-- the trick is to not overthink it--" and so now my poster has two forged Alex Robertshaw signatures and zero authentic ones. l m f a o. (To be fair, I do have other things they've all four signed, and Jeremy's fake Alex is at least passable, and Jon's fake Alex is Absolute Dogshit Nothing. I am obsessed.) I even got Peter to sign! He was talking with another fan about a gift she'd given them in the past that had sadly been part of what they lost in their studio fire, it was really heartbreaking to hear. He also thanked me again for his bracelet and told me he planned to give it to his daughter and that she would love it. We took a pic together! Pete the GOAT.

While I was making the rounds with the other boys and other fans, Allegra mostly in tow, swapping sharpies among those of us who still had them, Becky was back with Jon, taking a couple videos for people who weren't there in NY to talk about stuff that they were curious about--I think in the context of Maria, Becky said something like, she thinks the hair is crazy, and Jon said into the camera something like, "If you think it's crazy Now, give it like two or three more weeks, and you're really gonna think it's crazy." SIR WHAT. If the blond is a precursor to something else happening I'm gonna be so the opposite of normal about it, and if the bleach is a stepping stone toward the boys dyeing their hair Other colors I am going to be PROFOUNDLY NOT NORMAL ABOUT IT, AND IF ANY MEMBER OF THE MANCUNIAN ROCK BAND EVERYTHING EVERYTHING HAS THEIR HAIR DYED GREEN ANY TIME IN THE NEAR FUTURE I AM GOING TO BE ABSOLUTELY COMPLETELY INSUFFERABLE. tyler the creator unfollow me right now etc. etc. etc. The more I've thought about it I don't THINK this is what's up--my sense is that any Cold Reactor music video is probably already filmed and ready to drop alongside the single pretty quick after the tour ends, rather than being something they're going to film/put together entirely post-tour, so they probably needed the bleachblond for some energy similar to how I felt about them when they first walked on stage in DC, but Oh man...... OH MAN............ I digress. anyway.

following up from that, Allegra (I think? Or maybe still Becky and allegra was just Present) addressed the notion of the hair being related to the Lore, and like, did that mean lore for the single/the upcoming album ? ? which was what we were assuming, and Jon said some demented and ominous and extremely exciting phrase like, "The lore for this one is.... b o t t o m l e s s" in his always-startling real deep Jon voice, and that was the fucking sound bite of the evening, folks. FOLKS. ALLEGRA AND I WENT ALL THE WAY BACK TO HER APARTMENT JUST CONTINUALLY SAYING "THE LORE IS BOTTOMLESS!" my body is so god damn ready.

We bid farewells to all our friends for whom NYC was their final stop on this tour!! SAD!!!!!! Going to miss all the homies T___T it's not fair that we're not just all going to every single stop on this tour I don't think? it should actually be illegal for us not to be present when the band is performing?? the hugest RIP. Hugs exchanged all around. Me trying to say bye to Jon but he's engaged with someone else so I think I just awkwardly said "See you tomorrow" twice and then we left. becky maaaybe trying to last minute scramble to also come to pgh now despite not really having accounted for it in her plans originally ? ? I was not certain what she intended here but I supported her. yes. me, annika and AG for sure being there at least. we ride. Back to allegra's where I did, unfortunately, sleep ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLY/BASICALLY NOT AT ALL due to being so hot and stuffy in my little nest on the floor that it was making me nauseated, I think I got maybe 2.5 hours tops, but I didn't really have a choice because if I wanted to be back home in time to do ANYTHING other than just rock straight over to the queue for Thunderbird then I knew I was going to have to leave so GOD DAMN early in the morning to haul ass back to where my car was and then drive the seven hours to pgh. But I did exactly that!!!! bitch!!!!! Other than some issues like, managing to make a timely pit stop for gas/potty/coffee, I endured the miserable long roadtrip despite myself, raging my way through the poconos, downing the largest cold brew Wawa would sell me, having a truly tragic car vs quesadilla incident, etc. My BFF Francis even got on the phone with me for the last hour or so and we chatted and I got to give them the whole update on the tour thus far, so fun! They MIGHT try to go to the Chicago stop next week!!! if they feel like they can swing it, and I was like ok no pressure but also it's been an extraordinary experience for me thusfar and I highly recommend. So if you see Francis at E E Chicago please holler at them kindly from me!!! :) But at the very least they said they did want a T-shirt and venmo'd me money to buy them one, since I was already still gonna have to get one for Adrian. woooooo

I got home with, yeah, basically exactly enough time to shower, get my outfit together, and regroup before heading to the venue !!! I JUST BARELY missed the bus that would've gotten me there the most promptly, largely due to not being able to find another fucking Sharpie since irving plaza took my first one lmfao, and it ended up being quicker to walk there than to wait the 36 minutes it would've been for another bus or whatever. I still had MEGA travel tummy so I just snagged an apple and scarfed it down on the walk over. Annika was already there queuing! so we hung out in line together and waited and drank the waters we had definitely brought in from outside the bar and just vibed lol. and she was like, I heard them checking two new songs that haven't been in the setlist yet, and I was like ha ha lol like what, and she said, kevin's car and leave the engine room.

and listen, I was optimistic. that my social media obnoxiousness and well-known, easily observable public desires might yet sway them, because come on it's my hometown and it's the last show i'm gonna see on this tour and I sent them donuts, and those were MEANT as a KINDNESS and an ENTHUSIASM FOR DONUTS and not as a bribe, but if anyone wanted to interpret them as a bribe anyway whomst was I to say no, but like. just because I want the band i like to do a thing absolutely does not mean that they have to fucking do it. I want to be crystal clear that i have never at any point EXPECTED them to do this. i just. hoped. yearned in my heart of hearts. and also had very sound rationale for how possible/likely it was. Here's How Engie Room Can Still Win. yfm. but the soundcheck all but confirmed it in my soul for me. and I was like... glad, that she'd been there and caught it and could tell me about it, because it gave me time to like, come to terms with the reality of it, emotionally. AAH. AAAAAHHH, OKAY. BITCH, PLIABLE HEAD, IT'S ALL HAPPENING.

we lingered and watched the queue form behind us-- I spotted a kid I'd seen at the Philly show, god bless. Everywhere we turn, repeat customers. I was telling my work friend today, I feel like the US fanbase for E E is significantly smaller than the UK audience, but we make up for it in that we go fucking hard. Every US fan is a superfan. there are no half-assed american sardines. and that has been so BEAUTIFUL and means the WORLD to me to be sharing it with the other ones of you. Bracelet sharing rocked at this gig!! I had exactly as many as I'd set aside for Pittsburgh and no more, since all my spares had evaporated up at Irving, A new person ALSO HAD BRACELETS!!! LIKE, for realsies Made For Trading At This Show Specifically bracelets, it was suuuuch a delight, so in addition to my eclectic collection from the previous gigs I now also have one that says RAW DATA FEEL with some truly choice glow in the dark bric-a-brac on there as well, and my heart was so warm aaaaaah. fwiendship :) Also spotted in the pre-doors queue were the Pizza Boy costumed guy and a woman I met at Foals in 2019?? who I guess automatically recognizes me because of the green hair, but just. omg. the community!!!! I'm dying!!!!!!

There was a slight will-call kerfuffle that nevertheless did not stop me from being dead center dead at the front right in front of where jonathan's mic was destined to be, and I was like. god. here we go. the home stretch. This was ABSOLUTELY the WORST place to be to be pretending to be interested in pierre's set, because he kept looking straight at me and dog I gotta admit four shows in I was feeling pretty tired. like, the energy of E E Itself was going to fully reinvigorate me, but nearly everything else on the planet was like totally disinteresting and I wasn't really up for it, especially when it's my semi-sex-repulsed ace-spectrum ass being just really put off by the suggestive gyrations of a performer that is not to my tastes. UM SORRY BYE HAHA. they didn't even play the one song I kind of liked. I managed to miss like two and a half songs of his set being still locked in the merch line at least lmao. literally WHILE I WAS STANDING IN THE MERCH LINE they sold out of the yellow shirt and I couldn't get me and francis matchies so I had to get them the black instead :( but thankfully they still had the one Adrian wanted because idk what I would have done if I had to scramble for a plan B with him on short notice haha. and I had EXACTLY enough cash for the two shirts left from the day before and I was paying Tour Manager Sam with it like oh my gosh I'm so sorry this is like my sweaty pocket cash from last night this is kinda gross and she was just like, No actually that's honestly exactly how I've been rolling as well and it is kind of gross so like agreed hahaha. She's the best. Idk how long she'll be tenured to them but I'd love to see her continue to exist in like their coterie moving forward. impeccable vibes.

also used merch waiting as a way to distribute more bracelets and get a drink of water! WOOHOO NOW I AM READY TO RECEIVE MY COMMUNION THANK YOU. they put the setlists down and there was a very small fraction of me that wanted to avert my eyes but like I. I had to know. and annika said yes there are new songs in the list. and I peered into the list and my song was there.

hey guys. hey guys? look, this was for me. I have to be honest with you. i manifested this. by being annoying on twitter. by being god's specialest costume-making donut-gifting bracelet-slinging weirdo. I'm owning it and it's mine. I was exactly EXACTLY right with "well, if they put Engine Room in they'll probably take Leviathan out, because they'd kind of fill the same role of slow moody song in the set, and then they'll probably swap in a different non-Man Alive song to compensate for Engine Room being there instead," and this is exactly what happened, and so then not only did I get Engine Room but I also got REGRET, WHICH IS ALSO AN EMILY THREEPWILLOW PLIABLE HEAD SONG, BECAUSE HERE THESE NERDLORD KINGSHIT BANDBOYS ARE IN MY GODDAMN BACK YARD, they're in my house and god it took me the whole fucking set up to then to just prepare, like I had to try not to think about it so I could enjoy what was right in front of me. God it was so fucking, fucking good. our position along the stage had Alex's stuff REALLY forward in the mix which was kind of new for me, but jon was just right there and every time I lifted my hands to dance and to yearn it was like, the only thing stopping me from touching you is my own sense of propriety and not any kind of physical barrier or distance, and the person immediately behind me was seeing the band for the first time and felt similarly about NOTLK as I did to Engine Room and those two songs were literally back to back in the set so we kind of screamed and cried and died together, I gave her a huge hug, and LOL SORRY NOT SORRY THAT I GOT MY KZ AND LEVIATHAN TAKEN OUT OF THE SETLIST FOR Y'ALL, PITTSBURGH, I DO FEEL KIND OF BAD BUT THIS WAS UMMM IMPORTANT TO ME, THANK YOU, goodbye. goodbye I left the planet. I thought I was going to cry and I nearly did but I didn't, but I did actually maybe start hyperventilating. like I'm glad I knew it was coming ahead of time because if it had been a full surprise I think whatever was happening to my lungs would have been exponentially worse and I may have even fainted.

(which, btw: jonathan. jon. when he came out on stage, he almost immediately got his mic cable caught on the edge of where his setlist was taped down, and in jerking it around, he whipped the setlist up off the floor and way upstage toward where Pete was; when he finally put it to rights and taped it back down, he just left it where it was at, far enough away from me that I definitely could not read it anymore; and like DID YOU DO THAT ON PURPOSE? TO MOVE IT OUT OF MY LINE OF SIGHT, TO MAYBE KEEP ME FROM READING IT? SURELY YOU HAVE TO KNOW THAT I'D ALREADY SEEN IT LIKE 15 MINUTES AGO. NICE TRY BUT IT'S TOO LATE I SAW EVERYTHING. i love him. i'm in physical pain.)

knowing this was my final one, I went so, so, incredibly hard, I let myself dance and mosh and scream and take way more pics and videos than I had before, I leaned on the lip of the stage, I had an absolute fucking blast. When the set was over a few other people who were more strategically positioned (i.e. people who had not had their most easily accessible setlists unceremoniously yoinked several feet away) snatched up the closest ones way quick; there was a general tension in the crowd at being able to see jon's, but it being further away out of reach, and one ballsy-ass kid (the "Kevin" person who'd accompanied the pizza boy person) actually clambored up onto the stage and ninja'd over and took it for himself, which inspired two copycats to do the same for some discarded guitar picks (and all of which definitely provoked a very loud, unimpressed, authoritative barking of "HEY!!!" from some security somewhere, like, they definitely shouldn't have done that!! yikes!!!!). I, instead, very patiently waited for an opportune moment to get the attention of their short king guitar tech as he was running around doing teardown, and someone else flagged him first and got pete's setlist, and in my final moments I got him to get me mike's. Gang, I'm gonna be real with you, I was not leaving my Pittsburgh hometown show in which they played Leave The fucking Engine Room without a setlist. there would've been blood or at the very least tears. so like. thank god lmao. Satisfied, we got some water and then headed out!!!

It was a long, chilly wait for the boys outside--god, the chilliness was REFRESHING, though, it's October for crying out loud, and DC and Philly and NY had all been muggy sweaty hot with no need for even long pants, much less a jacket, but I was glad I'd had the forethought to wear my flannel around my waist to cover up the YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT printed around the ass of my shorts on my walk over to deter questions, lmfao. We easily identified the spot on the side of the venue where we assumed the guys were coming out, it was all just a matter of time. (AG and I getting some confusing-to-parse messages from Becky? Idk my phone was SUPER dying so I was trying to leave it on airplane as much as possible, I didn't even make it to the end of the night, RIP needing to use my map all day in the car and even with it plugged in spending more than I was juicing of the battery. Listen i needed PICS and VIDEOS!!) I saw Jon first, and he almost looked past me before spotting me there because I was pretty close to the corner of the block, and I just stared at him, and said, May I hug you. and he said, of course! and I hugged him so long and so hard just like, thank you, I was extremely emotional then and I'm also getting extremely emotional now just typing about it, and he was like omg haha what for? Coming to your town? and I was like coming to my town and playing my SONG!!! And then he said something with the tone of a snarky teasy joke but that was like flusteringly truthful underneath about them legitimately rearranging the set quite a lot for me, and I have not stopped screaming internally since then, and Jeremy joked that I'd just seen the exact same set three times and they felt they ought to give me at least something new ha ha ha but like it wasn't entirely a joke, and I just don't even know how to process this. i am perishèd in the soil. anyhow.

I wanted both my setlist and my Supernormal EP vinyl signed by all the boys, and I managed this with relatively little doing ("A deep cut!" jeremy remarks of the supernormal, haha), but I didn't want to be crowding them and getting in the way of other people getting lad time, so I kind of took a backseat and just talked when the time was right, but Jon did kind of keep wanting to talk to me. We talked about the new song, and we talked about the donuts I sent over--oh my GOD, because I was like, they're from that place over there, you can see the big neon donut sign from here! haha, and he was like dyou know what, I knew that's where they were from, because I went over there earlier in the day and got one for myself, I got a huckleberry one and I came back with it and everyone was like, what's that, they were very jealous, and then not too long after that this box of loads of them just shows up-- And like I am a donut fairy psychic wizard. Also everyone who is ever in Pittsburgh should go to Oliver's donuts and eat their fabulously good products. I will shill for them literally any day of the week. This is the second band I have given Oliver's to this year. I cannot be stopped. ANYWAY. i honestly almost could have written that prediction on an envelope and sealed it, that they'd end up wandering in there on their own only for me to send them some too. i was so tickled that jon got the huckleberry one because it's their signature flavor and it's SO PINK and allegra and I had just decided the night before that jon higgs is hot pink coded. like, in the universe where they are dyeing their hair multicolors for the lore. anyhow. it's good shit.

i had SO much fun after this show, even though it was so chilly and dark and we were scrungling around on a literal street corner outside a wine and spirits store, I was like holding people's things so they could get pics and signatures, I was showing off my supernormal booty shorts, I was talking to Jon about lore----- ohhh, my god, I had exactly two bracelets left when the night was over, literally the end of my stash, and it was one Final Form FIRST BODY LAST BODY that I said, y'know, I'm going to save this for my bestie francis when I send them the shirt, because that's the lyric I wanna get a tattoo of, and it'll match with my PLIABLE HEAD bracelet, and it'll be another sort of besties matching thing; and my one lone AKON IN THE BUTTERFLY HOUSE bracelet that remained, where I'd kind of said, well, if this one doesn't find the right home tonight, then at the end of the night I'm going to give it to Jon too. So I dug in my bag and passed it off, and he was like "what does this one say.... kon... Akon... Akon in the house--what is--OH AND THERE'S A LITTLE BUTTERFLY ON THERE, God--" and he was GRINNING and he was SO TICKLED BY IT and Jez chimed in with just like "The attention to detail--" and Jon was like "this is my favorite one actually," he LOVED IT AND I WAS SO CHARMED AND EMOTIONAL ABOUT IT, and then he offered me up something like "you kno-ow, this, the song, of this, there's actually a reference to it in something, something you've never heard-- and--that you never will," doing his cryptic Jon troll grin, "the one thing that didn't make it," with the implied end of that sentence being "onto the album," and 'album' in this case being implied to be Raw Data Feel, which they have very publicly said that for once was an album where they just put everything on and didn't cull any songs or reserve any bonus tracks to release later or whatever. So I said, "Oh, from the one that we've been told had no cuts...?" also not explicitly saying RDF, and his answer to that was vague/nondescript enough but was probably an affirmative, but then he did follow that up with "that's lore that's SO far down the line, WAY WAY out there," and god, just, how deep does this man's brain and nonsense even fucking go. how far into the future is there LORE. BOTTOMLESS!!! I am obsessed with him. i cannot stress enough how blorbo he is to me.

The shorts came back up in conversation too ("Sorry, let me just look quite closely at your ass for a moment--" "It's okay, the shorts are designed that way--") and him saying, yeah, we do talk about some of the costumes still, and then segueing into asking if I had plans for this year and what I was doing, and I said, maybe, I'm not sure if I want to tell you, and he said, Is it to do with us, and I said, Neither confirm nor deny, and he said, Well if it's not, then, I want to know, with kind of a 'duh' tone ahahaha because like true there would be no reason to be coy if it was nothing to do with E E at all, and I explained that like I kind of have to have two costumes ("of course you do."), WELL because y'know the E E ones don't really play to or land with the general populace (a very cheeky "No!") so I have, just, one that's for going to parties, and one that's for fucking around on the internet. He seemed to find that acceptable hahaha.

Anyway what I REALLY wanted with wearing the Supernormal shorts was a group pic of all five of us normal frontways, and then a group pic of all five of us facing backward/ass to the camera a la the picture of them outside the White House, where you could see the goof of my shorts but also all of their butts, but this was an ABSOLUTE DISASTER TO DO when it was so dark that phone cameras were taking everything long-exposure, and also they'd all had just enough beer to not really be following on what the bit was. Absolute shit results on the backwards pic because I couldn't, y'know, see to coordinate it, because I had my back turned. (Me yelling, "Not just MY butt, EVERYONE'S butts, come on!!" into the streets of Lawrenceville.) Utter failure. Didn't care. I love these fucking guys. The vibe was finally kind of winding down, closing-time energy, the guys still had to get on the bus to Boston right away even with tomorrow being their day off, it was a Boston day off and not a Pittsburgh day off where I could offer them free ice cream sadly, so they all sort of bowed sweetly out. Jon gave me his like, I Am Part Of The Band clearance ID badge from the venue, kind of out of nowhere, he was like "sorry this is all I have to give you, it's the least I could do," and I was like WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU'VE ALREADY GIVEN ME SO M-- YOU COULD DO WAY LESS ??? but I guess now I have that, too. I tried to give him the King Of Oil sign from my fatberg costume, which I'd initially brought because I thought it would be a fun photo taking prop but the photo situation was the aforementioned disaster so that never really came to any fruition at all, so I was just going to gift it to them, and he said "My suitcase is already so full of so much random shit-- that you've given us--" and then right as he was leaving he just said "Thank you for being such a weirdo" with a voice full of all the kindness and affection in the world and I just yelled "ANY TIME!!" and then oh so tragically the night had to be over.

it's been nice, though, because I'm so used to driving the long drive home at the end of an adventure and having that signify the end, of getting to the end of the car ride and having nothing beyond that but the rest of my regular life; and this time, I drove all the way home, but when I got there, the adventure was still happening, right in my neighborhood, right down the street, and all I had to do was walk back home alone in the dark and climb into my own bed at the end of a long and beautiful night. i can already tell that this is going to be one of my most special memories basically forever, and now every time I drive or ride the bus to and from work each day I will be passing by the place where Everything Everything performed Leave The Engine Room for me, and that's so profoundly special that I don't even have words to describe it. I love this band, I love the people in it and I love the people its gravity pulls in to orbit around it, I'm just so goddamn happy. I don't even know what to say or how to end this.

#everything everything #e e #RDF US tour 2023 #this has been a post #jonathan fucking higgs.#god.#they all just like. referred to me plainly by my name a lot more than i was expecting in a way that was overwhelming #like to one another/other people and not just to me directly #i exist???? sounds fake #i will be thinking about this week for a hundred thousand years #my pliable head IS a walking hope thank you so much for NOTICING!!!!!!#pics to follow maybe on here but maybe just on twitter #where I am yes you guessed it @pliablehead if people want to lurk and see #ok fucking goodnight

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octuscle · 1 year

Text

Hungarian Hooligan

The 23rd match day

Viktor had been living in Debrecen for almost a week now. He had been unable to turn down the offer of a job as a department manager at his employer's Hungarian engine factory. He had been employed as a graduate engineer for almost ten years now, so this was finally a chance to advance his career. And Hungary wasn't wrong. When he got homesick, it wasn't far to his Bavarian home. And the city made a nice impression, too. His first weekend away was coming up, the weather was too cold and damp for the time of year, so after a short walk Viktor took shelter in a corner pub. The pub was packed. People in soccer shirts, with fan scarves and caps. He had obviously stumbled into the pub of a fan club of the local soccer team. Soccer… well, interested him only a little. In his hometown, he had occasionally joined in the celebrations when Bayern Munich had once again become German champions. But otherwise he cared less about sports. Neither actively, nor passively… But here it carried away him somehow. The waiter had put a beer in front of him without being asked, and one of the guests toasted him. And between cheers and groans a conversation developed. Somewhat sluggishly in English. But towards the end of the second half, Viktor was able to slip in a few words of Hungarian. It had been a very exciting game. Debreceni VSC had won 0:1 away. Viktor was cheering with the other guests. Someone had put a fan scarf on him. And the host gave a local round.

The 24th match day

Viktor had been looking forward to Saturday all week. Since moving to Debrecen a year ago, he had attended almost every home game at the stadium. His employer had a number of business seats in the stadium. And the winner of the internal betting round always got a seat for the next home game. Viktor may not have been the greatest expert. But when he stopped at his favorite pub for a beer in the evening after his jog, he always read the sports paper carefully. And it often helped him snag one of the coveted tickets. His buddies, with whom he watched the away games in the pub, usually turned up their noses because there were only snobs sitting in the business seats. But Viktor enjoyed the atmosphere and the closeness to his superiors. This could only be supportive for his career.

The game today was a disaster. 1:2 lost against the current second in the table. The score was still 0:0 at halftime. Viktor could hardly stand the cheering of the fans of the opposing team. The only thing that helped was drinking in frustration after the final whistle.

The 25th matchday

Today Viktor didn't get any tickets for the Sunday home game. Of course, he had also tried to get tickets on the black market, but he had had no luck. So he had to watch the game in his pub. After all, it went great against Vasas, the last team in the table. 3:1! This meant that his club climbed to fourth place. In the jubilation, Viktor got a beer shower. His jersey was soaking wet. But he was happy!

The 26th match day

The away game was in Mezokovesd not far from his home. Normally, Viktor would have carpooled with a few pals from his gym. But going by train with the other fans was much more fun. They tuned into the game with loud heavy metal from Symmetry Of The Void. The police separated them from the local fans already at the station. The mood was testy, Mezőkövesd-Zsóry SE was definitely on the heels of its club. A victory was important. And even though it didn't look like it for a long time, Meldin Drešković scored the redeeming goal shortly after the start of the second half. The fan block cheered. Chants of abuse began from the opposite side. Viktor, for his part, joined the chorus of his club. The first bengalos were set off. The mood threatened to tip over. And Viktor and his lads were looking forward to a proper brawl.

The 27th matchday

Home matchday. The fifth in the table meets the fourth in the table. Viktor had finished work early that Friday. Before the game he had worked out for an hour on the punching bag. He wanted to be in shape for the game. He had fought hard for his place in the Ultras' fan block and naturally wanted to keep it. He had been in the city for four years now and was an ardent admirer of his club. Right after graduation, he had been given the chance to move to Debrecen. He had never regretted it. He fevered with his club. He fought for the honor of his club after the games. And for that he kept himself fit with boxing training. Viktor laced up his boots tightly and tucked his gloves into the back pocket of his jeans. Whatever happened today, he was prepared.

It wasn't until the fourth minute of stoppage time that the opponent's goal came. Viktor was beside himself. The police tried their best to prevent an escalation. But it was a matter of honor not to let the opposing fan block go home unscathed.

The 28th match day

His friends had long called Viktor only Gyözö. The Hungarian variant of his name. And indeed, Viktor also felt rather Hungarian. Here he had graduated, here he had his circle of friends. He and his pals had already taken the fan bus to Zalaegerszeg on Friday afternoon. And they had partied the weekend away. There had already been one or two brawls. And it became apparent that it would also go off today properly. After the first goal for his team in the first half, Gyözö had made every effort to heat up the atmosphere. And after the 0:2 lead in the second half, he had an easy time stirring up the hatred of the opposing fan block. While still on his way out, he put in his mouth guard and put on his gloves.

The 29th match day

Finally, summer arrived. Géza loved to fire up the Ultra fan block with his bare upper body. He wore his tattoos with great pride. If they won today, they could finish third in the league. But Géza didn't really care. His name meant winner. And that was what he wanted to be today. Gladly in the stadium. But more importantly on the street in the fight against the cursed fans from Székesfehérvár.

@hottfguys, hope you like it!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #age reduction #tf challenge

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rrain-writes · 4 months

Text

Link meets the chain and decides to mess with them. Only a little bit though.

Link had been following this suspicious looking group for the past three days. He was almost tempted to jump out of his hiding place and direct them to the nearest stable. This was of course he was sure they weren’t yiga (yes, he’d checked with the good old banana test) and also because they’d been walking around in circles the whole time he’d been following them.

But just because they weren’t yiga, didn’t mean Link could let his guard down. He’d even listed examples of why. (Zelda would be proud of him when he showed her)

WHY THESE ‘TRAVELLERS’ ARE SUSPISHOUS

1. They have weird names

2. One of them has the master sword

…Yeah that was all he had. But still, it was something!

Link nearly danced in celebration when the group finally found the stable.

As they walked up to it, he made a split second decision. Dressed in his most casual clothing (Champion tunic, and the master sword on his back) he sauntered up to the stable.

When the travellers noticed him (more like noticed the master sword) walk past and sit at the fire, they came over, asking to join him.

Link shrugged in response, but shuffled over to make some room.

“So,” The one with the other master sword on his back. “What’s your name?”

Don’t say Link.

“Link.” He replied. He didn’t have the tri force of wisdom, after all.

The youngest looking one, maybe about 14 wearing very familiar blue tunic, perked up.

“Link? Like the hero?”

Don’t say something stupid.

“What hero?” Damn it.

“The hero that defeated Ganon.” The one with pink hair butted in, rolling his eyes.

Link busied himself with arranging the rocks he’d taken out of his slate before.

“I ain’t never heard of no Ganon.”

The master sword wielder blinked in confusion. “But, the stable master just told us about it. Calamity and all that.”

“Urban myth.” Link said, waving his hand vaguely.

The guy with the blue scarf scoffed. “We can see the ruins of the castle from here kid. What caused that if it wasn’t Ganon?”

Quick, Link. Think of something to say.

“Cuccos. Destructive beasts.”

“Are cuccos something different around here?” The one with the facial markings asked.

“Look, Link.” One eye said. “We need you to be serious with us here.”

“Am.”

“Are you the hero who defeated Ganon?”

“Nope.”

The little one decided to try his luck. “Then what’s with the master sword on your back?”

“What, this?” Link replied, grabbing it. “This is called a cucco killer 3000. Only thing that can destroy those foul fowl.” He shuddered for emphasis.

“Anyways, I better get going. Nice meeting you. Toodles!”

“Hang on.” The guy with the master sword grabbed his arm as he went to stand. “If you aren’t the hero, do you at least know where we’d be able to find him?”

Link sighed, looking away as he blinks back tears. “Poor lad.” He said. “Passed away.”

The travellers shared a look. “What happened to him?” One asked.

Link looked at them, serious eyes filled with unshed tears. “The cuccos got to him.”

#fan fiction #twilight #linked universe #lu #wild #four #hyrule #legend #sky #time #Warriors #Wind #Crack #no beta we die like men

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awesomesauce2929 · 3 months

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Cool images from a vintage fashion book that made me think of the angels, based on what vibes the images give me, not necessary a match but that’s the fun part:

The book itself:

Martinu and Vados:

Credit to Anna Zinkeiman, November 1931

The layering on the bottom jacket makes Martinu stylish and Vados is made cooler by that tie. I love to see pairs I rarely see together hanging out, this bonding is awesome.

Vados, Cus, Marcarita and Martinu:

Credit to Tage Werner, June 1943

Just I can imagine them spending time together like this, observing where they are in this serene environment, almost like a drawn utopia. Plus I love the four did their assessment well in having a headpiece to varying degrees and having their personality to shine through. Vados is chilling, seems like to sit back against the tree, thinking of growing some plants herself, the white flower is a gift from Cus. Cus is going to make something for her sisters (they will volunteer themselves to join in with her surprising her) and enjoys catching up or hearing new news. Marcarita letting the wind move her scarf as if they are her pigtails and waters the plants under Martinu’s instruction. She may have a tendency to overwater it. Martinu invited them to her universe for a gathering, a perfect place for a perfect time in her words. She got other plans arranged during their visit. Company is nice when shared.

Whis and Korn:

Credit to Tege Werner, September 1943.

I see them having an unofficial “official” fashion rivalry, they have strong opinions on each other appearance but instead of exchanging that with words, they do it with fashion, letting their self shine the brightest, the boldest and re introducing the interesting. As I see Vados really suiting the blazer in general, this also applies to Whis. He looks good in one. The pose itself screams Whis. Korn is a necklace lad, end of whilst Whis is not (besides exceptions). At least Korn got the right hair for hats to stand on.

Mojito and Cognac:

Credit to Harper’s Bazaar (unable to find the specific person, likely a collaboration), September 1944

Sometimes an unspoken unity, even things may look bleak, they continue with attitude and acceptance. I see Mojito smoke with a cigarette for an aesthetic, and built an cool image for himself, taking a break from observing the universe with changes he don’t like and resist an urge to often intervene because his Lord and Kai needs it. Yet he knows better not to break the rules despite his desired contrasting image/appearance. Cognac knows what Universe 9’s mortal level before the recalculation of the universe mortal levels thanks to Mojito’s visiting him numerous time, unwinding is their favourite activity. Cognac welcomes him and made plans for the two of them, enjoying in his yellow attire this time, at the end of the visit, his wish come true, he and Mojito body swap. Cognac, also don’t get along with his Lord well.

Whis and Vados:

Credit to Unknown, November 1944

#dbs angels #angels dbs #headcanon #angelcore #vintage angelcore

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consultingskeletondetective · 1 year

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Michael Myers at Christmas! Headcanons

Big lad chops down a whole ass tree and drags it inside for you to decorate, and you're too pleased to be fussed about the mud on the floor

He's gonna make you presents, building you a nice chair or a bed, and he's gotten so good at fixing his boiler suit over the years he might make you a lovely scarf from fabrics he finds

He makes sure the fireplace is stocked with wood, and you have enough meat and nuts for dinner

Sits up with an axe by the fire on Christmas eve because father Christmas is an INTRUDER he won't risk getting to you

Falls asleep in front of the fire bc bro is exhausted from all the effort it took and you smile and cuddle up to him and fall asleep too

You better get two turkeys because that boy is going to devour one in 0.2 seconds, bones and all

#Michael Myers #Halloween #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #Christmas #Imagines #Slasher #Headcanon

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putuponpercy · 5 months

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Hi I haven't written a fic for this fandom in over a year but I saw the first couple paragraphs in my drafts last night and went in a trance at 1am finishing it anyways here's a little snippet from The Early Days section of my They're Just People AU enjoy

Thomas glared at the small flock of seagulls a short distance away, fighting over the small scraps of food Edward threw in their direction. "You shouldn't feed them.”

His colleague merely shrugged. "A little won't do too much harm," he said, chucking another scrap towards the hungry birds.

"Nasty things," grumbled Thomas, shaking his head. "Lost many a decent meal to them back when I was on the streets.”

"Well you needn't have to worry about that now. You're plenty fed.”

A tut and an eye roll was Thomas' only response.

Come to think of it, the young’un had been in a particularly sour mood for the majority of the day. More so than usual. Reaching into his lunchbox, Edward pulled out half a sandwich then held it out to his companion. “Sarnie for your thoughts?”

Thomas wrinkled his nose. “Ain't tuna is it?”

“Chicken and sweetcorn.”

Satisfied Thomas plucked the sandwich from Edward’s grasp, wasting no time in scarfing it down while Edward waited patiently for his colleague to spill the beans. He didn't pressure Thomas, even after the young lad had finished eating and opted for fiddling with the cuffs of his sweater in silence. He knew Thomas would speak up in his own time. For whatever reason, ever since that fateful night the pair crossed paths at Barrow Central Thomas had chosen to put his full unwavering trust in Edward, although Edward wasn't exactly sure why. All he did was offer the lad a hot meal in exchange for getting him and his engine across the bridge.

“Reggie and Bart returned to the Main Land this morning.”

Speaking of.

Edward's brow raised in surprise. “Have they? Huh… that's the first I've heard of it.”

“And Alfie and Raymond are leaving this evening,” continued Thomas. “Isaac and Harry too.”

Humming, Edward grabbed the flask sitting next to his lunchbox. He unscrewed the cap and took a small sip of his tea. “Seems more and more are heading back by the day.” After another sip he gave a reassuring smile. “Worry not, I'm sure it'll be us soon.”

“And then what? What happens after we leave here?”

“Well… I suppose it's back to passenger trains and goods runs across the Furness line. Shame really. Not that I'm complaining, no. But Sodor’s been a breath of fresh air I suppose. Nice to feel useful after…” Edward trailed off, trying to shake off the memories of how his coworkers back on the Main Land often spoke down or belittled him. “Still, the Furness Railway is my home.”

The two lapsed into silence, though it wasn't comfortable, the air still felt as if something was left unsaid. Taking a quick peek at his pocket watch, Edward wasted no more time in packing up his lunchbox. “Right, come along you. Sir Topham Hatt wanted to see us before our goods train this afternoon.”

“Is’at right? What could the Fat Controller want to see us for?”

Edward tsked. “I do wish you wouldn't entertain the other's idea of such a demeaning nickname.”

Thomas waved him off. “Shove off will ya, it's not like we call him that to his face.”

“I dare wonder if that makes it even worse.” Shaking his head, Edward continued, “Regardless, we should make haste. Who knows, perhaps he'll tell us our loan period is up ‘an all. That this time tomorrow we'll be the ones crossing that bridge back to the Main Land!”

“Back to Furness Railway, you mean?” Thomas asked quietly, expression unreadable.

“Precisely.” Tilting his head to one side, Edward frowned. “Hadn't we just gone over that?”

Abruptly, Thomas stood, balling his fists at his sides. “But Edward- I don't work for Furness Railway, remember? You picked me up off the streets because you didn't have a fireman. What's going to happen to me once we go back? They'll kick me out the moment they realise I'm not one of them! I can't go back to living on the streets, Edward - I can't go - I don't want to go back there! I-”

Two warm hands gently clasped Thomas’ own that had found their way up to gripping his hair somewhere amidst his panic. “Thomas, I need you to breathe for me. Deep breaths now, in - and out. Good lad, and again.”

Thomas followed suit, taking a few shaky breaths. When had his breathing gotten out of control? When did he start crying for Christ's sake? His hands slowly lowered from his head, feeling Edward give them one last reassuring squeeze before pulling away. “...sorry,” he said pathetically.

“Don't be daft, you've got nothing to be sorry for,” Edward replied without a beat. His gaze softened. “I should apologise. I had no idea how distraught you had been feeling about all this. I just wished you had brought it up sooner rather than letting it build up like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said again. “It's just that, coming here - to Sodor - has been the best thing to ever happen to me, least from what I remember. I have a roof over me head, I don't have to worry about when my next meal will be, I have a job, and you- Edward you've been ever such a good friend to me.” He paused, batting a hand across his damp cheek. “I'm terrified to lose it all.”

Edward swallowed a lump in his throat at being called ‘friend’. He never had quite gotten along with his coworkers back home, so in a sense, Thomas was his first real friend since joining the railway. He placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “I wouldn't be such a good friend if I allowed you to go back to living on the streets, would I?”

Confused, Thomas asked, “But where else would I go?”

Edward shrugged. “Well, while my flat isn’t exactly grand in size I'm sure there's some room to squeeze you in.”

Blue eyes widened. “What? You're saying I can come live with you?”

“I mean- only if you'd like to-”

“Of course!” Thomas cried, leaping over to squeeze the other in a hug. “Thank Edward, thank you! I won't cause no bother I swear!”

Edward grinned. “No bother? That doesn't sound quite like you,” he teased, giving the other lad a pat on the back.

Pulling away, Thomas matched him with a cheeky smile of his own. “Well- within reason, of course.”

“Of course. And I'm sure we can try and get you work on their railway, although the chances are it won't be as my fireman, there are still plenty of opportunities. Even if it's something as giving Old Coppernob’s engine a good polish.”

“As long as it's nothing to do with stinky fish I'm up for anything!”

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, Edward took another glance at his pocket watch and almost gawked at the time. “Right, come along you, we're running late! Don't want to keep the Fat - I mean - Sir Topham Hatt waiting.”

Renewed with energy and anticipation for the future the pair climbed aboard their engine together ready to tackle the rest of the day ahead, unbeknownst to them that the Fat Controller was about to drop the bombshell that Furness Railway had expressed that they now had zero interest in having Edward, nor his engine, return home to them.

#ttte #ttte humanized #ttte fanfic #ttte thomas #ttte Edward #the other names mentioned are just random people that were also on loan to tfc #the early days #tjp au #pup's fics

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momentomori24 · 6 months

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Finally finished my untitled Soushin poem I was working on in Doki Doki Literature Club Ceative Writing Club! I'm not good with trigger warnings, but this one is kinda heavy. Topics include implied/referenced abuse, unhealthy dynamics, codependancy, self blame-- typical Soushin but take caution anyway.

Anyway, hope you enjoy. This is for you, fellow Soushin lads.*Ahem*:

The rain beats against the window glass, haphazardly and random

To him it's nothing but mindless staccato, indistinct and humdrum

It's background noise; static fills his waning mind but he listens anyway

The clatter and chatter from the people outdoors has long faded away

It's silent now, save for the cacophony of sounds he takes in without a word

The melonchony orchestra playing the dismal soundtrack of his lonely world

Maybe ''lonely'' is a bit misleading

Does ''grieve'' really describe the emptiness he's feeling?

Those malachite eyes, a smile so sickeningly kind

digs itself out from the deepest pit of his mind

A constant, terrifying presence, day by day

A shadow glued to his side that never goes away

His face pales, his stomach churns-- he shouldn't miss him at all

Shouldn't think of the person he hung up his pictures on their wall

Should never revisit the laughter, the carnage, the violence

The way he let it all go on in ignorance and silence

It's over now, yet he goes through his days lost and dazed

Without purpose, without plans, without the answers he craved

His garden of hopes and dreams lays withered in the aftermath of that fateful fall

And as he ponders and wonders when life will once more flourish here he questions why anything ever withered at all

Sometimes, he recalls those eyes

soaking up his fear as he trembled and cried

Those loathsome hands, pulling, carressing, always on him, never gone

and that satisfied grin at the lack of resistance, the evidence he's won

Sometimes, he still misses him

That love and care, that person, that man

that weird, charasmatic stranger he grew to love when their friendship first began

That cursed scarf around his neck feels akin to a stranglehold

But he can only continue latching on to it, not bold enough to let go

It's a sickness, a plague, but it's his own

Too ravenous, destructive of an illness for one person alone

But it's just him now, alone in the dark

As he lifts his arm, gaze trailing fading marks

The permanet reminders of what he let happen without a fight

stare back him in indifference, the cold truth at its most unbearable at this hour of night

A laugh bubbles from his throat, and another, raspy and crass

As sharp and uninviting as shattered glass

What even was so funny? How utterly hopeless, utterly pointless the situation was?

But there was nothing left, and he laughed

And laughed

As Sou is naturally my favourite character he has to suffer just as naturally (affectionate). I didn't plan to write something this grim, but I'm surprisingly alright with how this turned out. This is my first time writing a poem, so please be nice to me. And if you didn't like, then still be be nice. Thanks 👍

#your turn to die #poetry #soushin #i definitely took some inspiration from things i've been re-reading and re-listening #that really captured the vibe i wanted for this one #''I don't miss you at all'' by FINNEAS #''Approximation'' by Consumer_electronics ao3 #''are you with me?'' by ibgarry ao3 #''at arm's length'' by Sarllon ao3 (their account is deleted tho)#btw if you enjoy dark/grotesque content check them out they're phenomenal writers #except if you're an anti then please don't #sou hiyori #shin tsukimi #my writing

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shrooms-nd-lu · 1 month

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I DID THE THING

THE FIRST PART OF IT ANYWAY

LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK

Should a nine year old, let alone a nine year old dragon prince, be sneaking out and running through the streets of castle town without supervision during the middle of festival season? Probably not, but Link didn’t really care. That was the point, actually. He’d been stuck in that tower for the last two years and he was sick of it. His parents worried for nothing. He’d be fine because Auntie Cia would never know he left. Nobody was going to recognize him: it has been two years since he was last seen by the public and he was growing rapidly. Besides, he was wearing the big blue scarf he stole from his dad’s closet like a cape. His wings were tucked safely beneath the soft fabric and out of sight.

As soon as he felt the fresh air on his face and the cobblestones beneath his feet, he took off running. He loved to run, and he’d missed it dearly. The tower was spacious, but it didn’t exactly come with much space to run. Giggling to himself, he bobbed and weaved through the crowds, just basking in the warmth and joy of it all. The music, the laughter, the people. He bought some spiced meat on a stick from a nice old lady who patted his head and told him he was a very smart young lad for counting his change so easily. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted, way better than anything the royal chefs ever made. Probably because this snack came with a heaping side of rebellion.

He’d been wandering aimlessly, munching on his treat, when he was suddenly pushed to the ground. His head came into contact with the stone street and tears sprang into his eyes. Big hands reached under his cape to his pockets. He screamed, terrified they would spot his wings.

“NO! Get away from me! Please leave me alone!”

It was pointless. These people didn’t care. They held him down and took his coin purse from him. That… wasn’t what he expected. He’d thought for sure they knew who he was. What he was. That he would be sold off to a circus or something like Auntie Cia always said would happen. That they might pluck his scales. But they… just wanted his money?

“Do you guys not have enough to eat?” He tilted his head to the side, confused. “Would you like to share my snack?” He went to hold up the uneaten half of his meat on a stick, only to realize it had fallen on the ground. Tears came to his eyes again. His snack was ruined.

He was too busy crying about the pain in his head, his ruined food, the fear of being discovered, and from being surrounded by strangers with dubious intent to notice that they had started jeering. One of them raised up a foot and was getting ready to step on him when another little kid ran up, shouting and brandishing a wooden sword.

You were small and your weapon was a child’s toy, but you clearly knew how to use it. With surprising agility and skill, you managed to compensate for their compatible lack of strength. You advanced, forcing the two thugs back with your glorified wooden stick. One of them opened their mouth to say something, but you cut them off.

“I’m a knight’s kid.” You glared, “as good as I am, how much trouble do you think you jerks would be in if I screamed for help?”

The thugs looked between each other, contemplated their life choices, and left.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Cowards. Hey, are you okay?” You turn to look at Link, who looks up at you with wide eyes. The pain in his head is almost forgotten. Almost. You’re really pretty and cool and strong and where’d you learn to fight like that???? He’s sure he must have stars in his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” Link nods, but the action causes him to wince a little. He suddenly remembers his headache. You wince in sympathy and pull a small potion out of your bag. “My parents like me to keep these on hand in case of emergencies. Drink. It’ll make you all better!”

Link takes the potion and drinks it. It tastes awful, but he can feel its effects the second it’s on his tongue, so he downs the whole thing. You smile.

“There, see? All better.” You offer him a hand and help him stand up. “Where are your parents?”

He frowns, deciding what to say. “Uhhh… they’re at home. I’m by myself.” You nod, considering that.

“This part of town is dangerous. You shouldn’t be here if you don’t know how to fight.” You return your toy sword to its toy sheath at your waist as you speak. “C’mon, I’ll take you back to the festival. I take it you’re not from around here.”

Link has the sense not to answer that as he follows you back to the festival. The two of you pass through a crowd and Link slips his hand into yours. You look at him, surprised.

“My parents always say that I have to hold hands in big crowds so I don’t get lost.” You chuckle and swing your joint hands between the two of you as you walk.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about getting lost as long as you’re with me! I swear I’ll protect you… uh. Shoot! I totally forgot to ask your name! I’m y/n.”

Link smiles at you, “I’m Link.” He answered without thinking. He hopes you won’t figure out he’s the prince. He doesn’t think you’d do something so mean, but he really doesn’t want the first friend he’s had in two years (except Falcon, his pet eagle) to try to sell him off for his scales.

You beam back, “well, Link, I, y/n, hereby swear to protect you from all harm that might come your way! You can trust my word because knights always keep their word, and I’m gonna be one someday! Just you wait!”

Link lets you gently tug him through the festival. They stop at most of the game stalls, which he insists on paying for with the coin pouch you returned to him. He stops suddenly at one stall, an archery game. He’s staring at one of the prizes: a pair of matching necklaces, each shaped like half of the triforce. It looks like the two charms connect to make a whole triforce shape. It’s cute.

“You want that, Link?” You look at Link, smiling amusedly. Link nods.

“Yeah. I’m gonna try to win it!” He pays the person behind the booth and picks up a bow and six arrows. The prize he wanted was level four. Link would have to break four of the six glass bottles in order to win it. The problem with this was that he’d never held a bow before, which you could tell the second he picked it up. He struggled to even nock the arrow. You did your best to talk him through it without making him feel bad, but there wasn’t much you could do from behind the “safety line” the game master insisted you respect.

Link didn’t hit a single target. Tears sprang into his eyes again. “I… I’m sorry. I wanted to give you half so we’d have something to remember eachother by but I failed.”

Your heart breaks. You angrily reach into your wallet and pull out some money of your own, “want me to try? I’ve been taking archery lessons since I was old enough to hold a bow.”

Link shrugs, dejected, “I dunno. It seems impossible. That bow is so heavy.”

Before he’s done talking, let alone looks up, you have already stepped up to the shooting line. You lift the bow. “I see what you mean. This game is definitely rigged.” You glare at the man behind the booth.

You shake it off and nock your first arrow. This bow is heavier than you’re used to, but you’re bound and determined. You aim carefully, willing your arm to stop shaking from the strain. Your first arrow misses. “Gah! Fudgesicles!” You’d heard your parents and the other knights saying that when stuff went wrong. It felt good.

The second arrow missed, but it grazed the side of the jar. You grin to yourself; you’ve figured it out. The third, fourth, fifth, and sixth arrows fly. They all strike their intended target. You destroyed four jars, you get the fourth-level prize. With a petty grin to the gamemaster, you took the two half-triforce necklaces from him. Your expression softened as you handed both necklaces to Link. He pushes one of them back toward you, his expression morphing from awe to confusion and hurt.

“No. I wanted to share.” You grin again, amused as you turn around.

“Mhmm. That’s the plan. Help me put it on?”

“Oh.” Link says, dumbly, as he clasps the necklace around your neck for you. You turn back around and smile at him.

“Your turn. Turn around.” He complies and you help him into his necklace.

Beaming, the two of you run around the festival. You dance for a while, try some new snacks, and play a couple more games. Link’s face lights up like a fireworks show when he tries cotton candy. You’re astounded he’s never had it before. Itś not like itś hard to come by, and his family is clearly wealthy judging by his clothing. You give him a bit of a sideways glance, but decide not to question it. He’s sweet enough and seems harmless. That, and nothing bad’s gonna happen to him in such a large crowd. He could be a runaway or maybe he’s just not in the city much. Maybe his parents are strict and thought he was too young to attend such events before today? It didn’t really matter, anyway. You’d made a friend and you were having fun.

…you spoke too soon. You’d let go of his hand because the two of you were jumping around in time to some music. Everything was fine until the royal guard showed up in a huff. They were asking a lot of strange questions, but you couldn’t really hear them. You recognized Sir Jack, the Nimble and Quick. He was nice to you, mostly. Sometimes he gave you little treats, but usually he didn’t seem to know what to do with you. You were so distracted trying to figure out why Sir Jack was even there — he was a member of Queen Cia’s guard, and he rarely was sent away to complete tasks — that you didn’t notice your friend had gone missing. You ran up to Sir Jack and hurriedly explained you’d made a friend but he’d gotten lost, and this was probably your friend’s first time out at a festival. Sir Jack just patted your head and said he’d have the other knights keep an eye out. You were still worried, but there was nothing you could do about it. Sir Jack brought you home and stayed to talk to your parents. You tried to eavesdrop but they were in the other room and they weren’t speaking in the common tongue. Your Hyrulean wasn’t bad, by any means, but Sir Jack’s accent was funny and he spoke fast. You caught your name, a word that sounded suspiciously like “Prince,” and “friend.” He sounded worried. Whatever it was he was talking about with your parents, he stressed it had to remain top secret.

What in the world was going on?

- glitter ✨

ITS SO GOOD

Thank you glitterr

#✨ anon #mushie speaks #should I tag it as LU x reader?#probably #idk

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 5 months

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Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 17: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 5090

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Notes: This story was written for 2019’s CSSS. (Is it just me, or does 2019 feel like it was about 85 years ago?) It should hopefully be obvious from the story itself, but this is a canon divergence from 3x20. It’s been a minute, so a quick reminder of what was going on in our favorites’ lives at this point in the story: Zelena cursed Hook’s lips so that the next time he kissed Emma, she’d lose her magic. She threatened to kill Emma’s family, starting with Henry, if Hook told Emma about the curse. Hook then decided to send Henry to New York where he’d (hopefully) be safe, but before that could happen, Zelena’s monkeys attacked. With the help of Emma and the Charmings, Hook was able to defeat the monkeys, but not before Zelena showed up, told everyone about the curse and promised to kill Henry. Emma and the Charmings are furious at Hook for keeping the curse secret. This story takes place in the following episode just after Hook and Emma head to the farmhouse to confront Zelena. Divergences for this story: 1. Snow hasn’t yet gone into labor. 2. Zelena and Rumple aren’t waiting for CS at the farmhouse. 3. It’s Christmas Eve. 4. Blizzard.

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

Emma stomped into the farmhouse, ripping off her thoroughly snow-covered beanie and scarf and tossing them to the floor. Of course she was trapped in the freaking Wicked Witch of the West’s creepy farmhouse–with Hook–on Christmas Eve–because of course she was! That’s the way her life worked anymore. Why’d she ever let Hook talk her into taking that memory potion in New York? Her life was good there. No monsters. No over-the-top fairy tale villains. No magic. Just her and her son living their lives and being a normal family.

Granted, none of it had been real, she’d almost gotten engaged to a flying monkey and a part of her, even during the best moments in New York, felt like there was something missing, but that was beside the point! She and Henry had been happy. Was it really such a terrible thing to want to be happy?

Why the hell did Hook have to show up and destroy it all?

“We’re in luck, love,” the man himself called out cheerfully as he stepped inside and then, with some difficulty, closed the door against the bitter, howling wind. “Zelena may be wicked, but at least she’s practical. She left a nice, neat pile of firewood on the far side of the house. Perhaps being stuck in a blizzard is’t the ideal way to spend Christmas Eve, but at least we’ll be quite comfortable.”

She rounded on him, wanting nothing more to wipe the smile from his face with a swift right hook. “Not ideal? Not ideal?! Hook, my son, my parents, my baby brother or sister and the whole town are in danger from a crazy witch who wants to go back in time and wipe out my entire family line. I think we’re a long way past not ideal.”

The smile slid from Hook’s face. “It was not my intention to be flippant, Swan, but we must deal with the situation at hand. You will be of no use to your lad or the rest of the town if you freeze to death, and at least we have the means to prevent that.”

“But Henry–”

“Will be fine,” Hook reassured, striding across the room until he could place reassuring hand and hook on her shoulders. “He’s with Regina, and even at the height of her villainy, she loved Henry. Protecting him will be her number one priority.”

Loathe as she was to admit it, Hook was right. After the whole debacle yesterday–the storybook bringing back Henry’s memories, Zelena showing up and exposing Hook’s whole kiss curse situation, Zelena promising to kill Henry, Henry and Regina breaking the curse with True Love’s Kiss, the revelation of how the curse was cast in the first place (she still couldn’t believe her mother had actually crushed her father’s heart to cast it!)–Regina’s first act was to place a number of complex protection spells over Henry and every location he frequented. Henry would likely suffer no lasting damage.

But Emma hadn’t wanted to take any chances. With Regina protecting Henry, and with Emma’s brother or sister still showing no signs of coming out to greet the world, Emma decided she was done playing defense. It was high time she take the fight to the Wicked Witch. It was time to end this. So armed with her magic and her faithful pirate, Emma had stormed out in the direction of Zelena’s farmhouse.

Stormed, it seemed, being the key word. It began snowing just before she and Hook left her parent’s loft, and by the time they reached Zelena’s place, they were dealing with a full on blizzard.

Really, being home was the least Zelena could do given the fact Emma was giving up Christmas Eve with her son to kick her ass, but no. She couldn’t even give them that. There was no telling where Zelena and her Dark One puppet had gone, but it was clear they were not at home.

Emma hoped the witch froze solid in the blizzard.

Killian busied himself arranging the logs in the fireplace and then tried–without success–to start a blaze with the lighter he’d found lying upon the mantle. Emma watched him struggle for a while, before growling, pushing him aside and calling on her reserves of anger and frustration to produce a fireball that soon had the fire blazing merrily.

“Bloody brilliant, love,” Killian murmured in obvious awe. Despite herself, Emma felt her confidence soar in the wake of Hook’s constant, never-wavering faith in her.

“You know Swan, it could be worse,” Hook said with a wicked grin. “At least you’re trapped with a dashing rapscallion like meself. There are any number of ways we could find to amuse ourselves that I can promise would be very enjoyable for both of us.”

When he waggled his eyebrows in that ridiculously over-the-top way of his, she lost it.

“Are you freaking kidding me right now?” she nearly shouted. “We’re stuck here, my family’s in danger, a psycho witch and her equally psycho Dark One sidekick are still on the loose and all you can do is flirt!”

Growling, she turned to the fireplace, and tossed another fireball at the kindled wood for good measure, furious beyond belief at Hook, at Zelena, at the situation and, if she was being totally honest, at herself for the secret thrill that went through her every time he made outrageous or suggestive comments to her while giving her that look. There was nothing between them! There never would be. She wouldn’t let it.

The farmhouse was silent for several moments, save for the crackling of the fire, and Emma eventually turned back toward Hook. The look he gave her was a little too knowing, a little too understanding. When he’d come for her in New York, he’d told her he knew her better than she knew herself, and though she hated to admit it, it was true. It was a little unnerving how very well he understood her.

“Swan, what is this really about?” he asked simply.

Emma growled. “What do you mean, ‘What’s this really about?’ Did you forget about a certain green bitch with an insane grudge against her sister?”

“Of course not,” Hook said patiently, “but despite being snowed in, we are in no worse straights than we were yesterday. You heard it yourself from your mother when you used your talking phone to let her know of our whereabouts. Your family is fine, and Zelena hasn’t been seen since our confrontation in the boat house. I reiterate. What’s this really about?”

Emma glared at him for a long moment, before she finally sighed and dropped rather dramatically onto one of the ornate armchairs before the fire. “It’s just…it’s just Christmas is Henry’s favorite time of year. That kid loves Christmas. Every year back in New York–and then in Boston before that–Christmas Eve was special. We made a tradition out of it. We’d sit before the tree drinking cocoa, reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’, singing our favorite carols. Sometimes he even managed to talk me into letting him open a present or two. It was the one night I never, under any circumstances, accepted a case or worked on one I had ongoing. Christmas was for us.”

Emma felt the tears threatening at the back of her throat and she swallowed roughly, doing everything she knew to keep them from spilling over. “And now, here I am on Christmas Eve, separated from him. The kid’s going to be crushed.”

“Love,” Hook said gently, “the lad has a kind heart and a good head on his shoulders. He understands the circumstances are beyond your control. He knows how much spending this night together means to you, and he knows you’d never willingly miss spending it with him.”

“You know what the worst part of it is?” Emma asked bitterly. “The worst part of it is, as you’ve pointed out to me multiple times, none of it was real. It didn’t happen. It was nothing but the pleasant fake memories Regina gave us.”

Killian took ahold of her hand, and in a move that shocked even her, she let him. “This past year, the lost year, was real. Trust me love, Henry understands why you weren’t with him during the first ten years of his life. He knows you didn’t abandon him. He knows you did what you had to do to give him a good life.”

“Maybe,” Emma said, a lone tear breaking free and flowing down her cheek despite herself.

“Definitely,” Killian said with conviction

The lights flickered once and then went off completely, pitching the farmhouse into darkness, save for the flickering light from the fire. Despite it being merely late-afternoon, the storm outside seems to have eclipsed the sun entirely.

“Fabulous,” Emma said with a groan. “As if being stuck in a witch’s farmhouse on Christmas Eve wasn’t bad enough, now we’ll probably freeze to death without the heat.”

“I rather doubt that, Darling” Hook said with a flirtatious quirk of his eyebrow. He slid his tongue along his bottom lip in a way that had Emma’s pulse racing, before invading her space and whispering the last bit. “I’m sure we can come up with a way to keep warm.”

Emma leaned into him, actually leaned into him for a moment, before shaking herself out of it and taking a deliberate step back.

“Stop, Hook, just…stop!” she said through gritted teeth. “This whole thing is your fault! All of it! We were happy in New York, and you had to barge in and destroy it for us. Then we get back here, and you manage to get yourself cursed–joke’s on Zelena by the way. If she was smart, she’d have chosen to enchant the lips of someone I’d actually kiss. Then you decide to take matters into your own hand instead of telling me about the threat to my son. Hell, this is probably part of the plan too, isn’t it? Get me alone, stranded in a blizzard and then try to seduce me.”

She’d hurt him. She saw that clearly in his face for the space of two heartbeats, and then that hurt coalesced into anger. “Despite what you may think of me, Swan, I’ve not yet developed an ability to control the weather.

Without another word, he stomped to the door.

“Where are you going?” she yelled after him, fire still flashing in her eyes.

“To gather more firewood,” he answered, voice hard.

And with a fierce slam of the door, he was gone.

For long moments after the door slammed after Hook, Emma continued to seethe. Why was her life the way it was? Why couldn’t she just be normal? Why couldn’t she go back to her pleasant, comfortable life in New York with her son? When she told people she was going back after this whole Zelena situation was over, why did they all look at her like she had just stated her plan to kick puppies? This was her life, and she could live it as she pleased! It was her prerogative to do what she felt was necessary to protect her son. Where did Hook get off trying to convince her to stay with her family–and with him?

It’s not like she’d never see her loved ones again. They’d still visit, and her family was welcome to come visit them. But she was done. She was done being the “savior”, done going after psychotic fairy tale villains, done being everything to everybody. And most especially, she was done dealing with a pirate who made her heart race in a way she couldn’t control.

She’d done the whole “falling in love” thing before, and she had no intention of doing it again.

But as the minutes continued ticking past, Emma’s anger began to fade, and concern took its place. Hook had been gone a long time; way too long to just gather up firewood. What if….what if she’d finally driven him away? What if he’d actually left her this time?

A sick feeling took up residence in the pit of her stomach at the thought. She wanted to tell herself she didn’t care; that she was glad he had finally stopped pestering her, but she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. Hook had become much more than an ally to the heroes’ cause. He’d become a friend, quite possibly the best friend she had. He was her confidant, her support. His endless faith in her gave her confidence when she no longer had faith in herself. And the fact that he was so drop dead gorgeous and romantic that her insides turned to mush whenever he looked at her couldn’t be denied, at least not in the deep recesses of her heart where the truth resided.

Truth was, he’d been everything she needed during this whole stupid Wicked Witch business. Despite what she might have said to him, she knew he pushed her not to further his own romantic interests but because he genuinely wanted her to find happiness.

And what did she do? Time and time again, she pushed him away. Time and time again she reforged the wall around her heart, trying to drive him away with cruel, cutting words.

Had she actually succeeded this time? Was he ready to give up on her like everyone else had? Gods, how was she going to handle it if he had? Through everything, he’d been a constant in her life. Why did she always do this? Why did she always push away the people in her life that meant the most?

A small kernel of hope still lived inside her, reassuring her that he’d never abandoned her before, he wasn’t going to start now.

But that thought brought with it an entirely new concern. What if something happened to him? What if he was lost, freezing to death in the blizzard? What if Zelena was lying in wait for him? What if…?

As the minutes continued to pass, increasingly more fantastical worries about what may have happened to him took up residence in her mind until Emma feared she’d go crazy with the worry. She was just on the point of going after him, when suddenly the door swung open, the furious blizzard winds blowing in both Killian and a fair amount of snow.

Without a word, Killian deposited an arm full of firewood beside the fire and then stepped outside to grab one more thing, before firmly closing the door again and shaking his head and shoulders like a wet dog.

The relief that suddenly flooded Emma was so strong that she couldn’t help herself. She threw herself in his arms and buried her nose in his icy cold neck. He was here; he’d come back to her. He was okay.

For a moment, Killian stood still, but then his hooked arm came around her, and he hugged her to himself as tightly as she clung to him. “Swan?” he asked.

Emma stepped back, wiping at her suddenly damp eyes. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, voice wavering with the emotion still at the back of his throat. “I thought you’d left, and I get it. The stuff I said to you–it was over the line and I’m sorry.”

Killian took a quick step back, unmistakable hurt back in his eyes. “You thought I’d left? Emma, haven’t I proven to you by now that I’d never leave you?”

“I know!” she was quick to reassure. “It was stupid okay? I just–I don’t know; I got scared, and when I get scared–” she shrugged. “Wounds from the past tend to linger.”

His face softened. “Well they needn’t with me,” he said gently. “I’m not so easily driven away.”

She smiled at him, a small, tenuous thing, but then the item in his hand caught her eye. “Is that a pine tree?”

Killian smiled again. “It’s not much, I’m afraid, but it was the best I could find in this tempest.”

“You got us a Christmas tree?”

Killian suddenly turned away, scratching at the back of his ear. “I thought about what you said, Swan, about the traditions you are missing with your lad today. I know it’s not the same as spending the day with him, but I thought–” he shrugged self-consciously, “I thought perhaps it would make your holiday marginally less bleak if we recreated some of your favorite traditions ourselves.”

For the second time that evening, Emma threw her arms around Killian. “That’s one of the most thoughtful things anyone’s ever done for me.”

“I aim to please.”

******

Two hours later, Emma and Killian sat with each other before the fire, steaming mugs of instant hot cocoa in hand. Emma smiled, looking over at the tree that they’d managed to decorate with bits and baubles they’d found scavenging through Zelena’s house (and leaving quite a mess in their wake, which felt rather satisfying). Phase one of “Operation Christmas Cheer”, as Emma decided to call it in honor of Henry, complete, they’d turned their pillaging to the kitchen, managing to put together a haphazard meal of bread and cheese that Killian had toasted over the fire. It was Emma who found the box of instant cocoa mix in Zelena’s cupboard, and, resourceful as always, Killian had heated it over the fire in a small saucepan.

Meal prepared, they’d raided every bedroom and closet, bringing all the pillows, blankets, comforters and afghans they could find and arranging a nest for themselves before the fire.

“I’m afraid we’ll need to bed down for the night here before the fire, Swan,” Killian said, once again scratching at his neck. “With the storm still raging fiercely, we’d freeze in any of the bedrooms.”

Truth be told, Emma thought, as she bit into her grilled cheese sandwich, though she missed being with Henry, this Christmas Eve wasn’t turning out half bad.

They ate in companionable silence, and when the last crumb had been consumed, Killian turned toward her with a smile. “Are you ready for your story, Swan?”

“Story?” She asked.

“Of course,” he answered. “That was an integral part of your Christmas Eve tradition, was it not? Reading with your lad?”

Emma smiled. “It was, but don’t worry about it. It would be too much to ask that the Wicked Witch would keep any Christmas books around.”

“No matter,” Killian said, settling more comfortably onto his side of their blanket nest. “I’ve no need of a book.”

“Oh really?” she grinned. “How are you going to manage to read me a story with no book?”

“I’ve all I need up here, love,” he said, pointing to his head. “Sit back and prepare to be transported into the holiday spirit. ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house…”

Emma’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you know ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’?”

Killian gave her a mock offended look. “I do read, Swan. Quite extensively in fact.”

Emma smiled, laying upon her pillow and pulling a comforter up to cover her. “Well, by all means, then, continue.”

As Killian’s voice droned on, reciting the story of a man awakened by the arrival of Santa Claus on Christmas Eve night, Emma felt her eyelids become heavy, and before she knew it, she was drifting off to sleep, not visions of sugar plums, but visions of a thoughtful pirate that she just might be starting to fall for, dancing in her head.

************

Christmas morning dawned clear and bright, the blizzard finally at an end. Emma woke to bright sunshine streaming through the front window. For a moment, she was disoriented, wondering where she was and how she’d gotten there, but then the previous day rushed back to her. Going after Zelena, the blizzard, being trapped in the farmhouse, taking out her frustration on Hook, being afraid Hook had left her, being overjoyed when he returned, his thoughtful Christmassy gestures.

Still thinking of Hook, Emma gradually became aware that she was quite warm and comfortable–and that was all thanks to the man who was currently spooning her, his strong arms holding her close. They’d gone to sleep with a respectable amount of space between them; how did they wind up in each other’s arms?

For a moment, Emma wanted to run. This was too close, too intimate, too–much.

But the more Emma thought about it, the more she realized she didn’t want to run, not anymore, not from this man. He’d been proving himself to her over and over again since Neverland. In the past few weeks alone, he’d been her rock as all this Wicked Witch crap had been going down. He’d found her in New York–somehow; she was still fuzzy on the details–restored her memories, brought her back to her family, contributed an excellent strategic mind to planning sessions, been one of the best listening ears she’d ever had.

And then the harder to swallow stuff. In these early morning moments, she could admit to herself that though some of the things he said to her were uncomfortable, they were uncomfortable truths. Walsh’s presence in her life proved that she couldn’t get away from the fairytale crap, not really. The fact that Henry had his memories back meant she couldn’t take him back to New York, at least not without a hell of a fight–with him, with Regina, with her parents, with everyone. He’d spoken the truth to her about all of it, even at the risk of her turning on him completely. It was the mark of someone who truly, genuinely cared.

And all the while, she’d treated him like something nasty she’d stepped in. She’d pushed, and pushed and pushed, but he’d stayed by her side. He’d been so patient with her, he really ought to qualify for sainthood.

It was Christmas, the time to be with the ones you loved. The time to tell them what they truly meant to you.

She turned over in his arms and ran a hand over his stubbly cheek. Still caught up in sleep, he mumbled “Swan” on a fond sigh, before opening his eyes–and then jumping to his feet faster than any person she’d ever seen.

“Swan!” he said, face flaming. “My apologies love. Not that I didn’t enjoy waking up with you in my arms, but I had no intention of taking advantage.”

Emma smiled, rolling her eyes fondly. “Sit back down, you Victorian drama queen. You didn’t take advantage. Somehow we just–ended up like that over night. Besides; I kind of liked it. You’re warm.”

Killian did as she asked, sitting cross legged beside her as she sat up to mirror him. “Just warm, love? I’ve it on good authority that I’m hot.”

Emma laughed, playfully swatting his arm. “Do you ever run out of these cheesy lines?”

“Haven’t yet in my three hundred years of existence.”

They laughed together for a moment, but then Emma turned serious, remnants of her musings of the morning still very much in mind. “Hook, I think we need to talk.”

The smile slid from his face. “As stated in Neverland, love, I find when a woman says that, I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation.”

“You might be surprised this time.”

“Aye?” he asked, brow raising in interest.

“I just–” she started, not sure how to even go about untangling all of the thoughts twisted up in her head. “I get it; I get why you didn’t tell me about the lips curse thing. I get that you were trying to protect Henry the best way you were able in an impossible situation. I’m sorry I jumped down your throat about it.”

“You were concerned for your lad,” Killian said. “I quite understand being angry at finding someone was keeping something about his welfare from you.”

“It’s not that,” Emma said, “or at least not just that. Hook, I trust you; I really do. I know you wouldn’t deliberately hurt Henry. It’s just–hearing what Zelena threatened and what she did to you, it just brought it home again that I’m not enough. Even with the whole savior thing, I can’t do a damn thing to help my family. Zelena knows if she takes my magic, I’m useless.”

Killian straightened, frowning ferociously down at her. “I cannot abide that kind of talk about the woman I–well, the woman I care for, particularly when it is blatantly false. Emma, you are enough. You’re more than enough, and it’s because she knows it that Zelena is going after you. She said something similar to me. She told me that she wants me to take away your magic, the thing that makes you special, but she was wrong as well. Your magic isn’t what makes you special. There’s not a bit of you that isn’t extraordinary. Swan your determination, your goodness in the face of a difficult childhood, your strength and courage. All of it make you who you are. All of it convinces me without a doubt that even without your magic, you could defeat Zelena.”

Emma felt like a ball of warmth surrounded her, suffused her at his words. She loved him. She’d never admitted it to herself before, but nonetheless it was true. She loved him, and she was done hiding behind her walls.

And she was certainly done letting villains try to determine her love life.

“Killian, can I ask you a question?” she asked.

“Anything, love.”

“Back in New York, when you first came to my apartment. That was True Love’s Kiss you tried, wasn’t it?”

There was the scratching at his neck again. “Aye. I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try.”

“So you…you love me?”

His eyes widened. “Swan, if you haven’t realized that by now, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“No I mean, you truly love me, like curse-breaking true love?”

“For my part, aye,” he said, looking directly in her eyes. “There’s no doubt in my mind, but for True Love to break a curse, it must be reciprocated. New York proved that it is not, as is your prerogative, of course.”

Emma was silent for a moment, gathering her courage. Finally she met his eyes. “True Love’s Kiss also doesn’t work when one party doesn’t remember the other.”

He stared at her incredulously for a long moment. “Are you saying you think we share True Love?” he began, apparently unable to finish the sentence.

Emma shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. How could I? But–I’m willing to test it out. Are you?”

He swallowed hard. “Gods know how badly I wish to kiss you, Swan, but are you sure? Your magic is part of who you are. I cannot be the reason you lose it.”

“You won’t,” Emma said, scooting forward and invading his space. “I think this will work, but even if it doesn’t I know that there’s nothing our family can’t accomplish. With or without my magic, Greeny doesn’t stand a chance. So what do you say? Are you willing to take a leap of faith?”

In answer, Killian leaned forward covering her lips with his own. Emma sighed into the kiss, everything about it felt right. Come what may, she was not denying herself this pleasure again.

Emma had just tilted her head to deepen the kiss, when suddenly a shockwave burst forth from their joined lips and suffused the entire farmhouse. She pulled away. “Hook–was that–?”

His face a mask of awe, Killian answered. “I think so. Give it a try, my love.”

Emma concentrated her emotions, directing them toward the place within her where her magic had always been. Continuing to focus, she waved her hand, and suddenly a fireball shot forth, reigniting the fire that had burnt down to mere embers.

“True Love,” she said in shock. “It’s true love.”

“Aye that it is,” Killian said, moving toward her once again. “The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“Well, for starters, this,” Emma said, surging forward with enough vigor to knock him to the floor. Emma took his mouth with the kind of wild abandon she’d never even imagined displaying. He gave back as good as he got, his hand tangling in her hair and his hooked arm molding her to himself.

Emma’s hand had just moved to unclasp his vest when suddenly the farmhouse door opened and Leroy burst through, walkie talkie in hand. “Relax your majesties,” he said. “I found ‘em. They’re at the farmhouse sucking face like a couple horny teenagers.”

Emma sighed in frustration before getting to her feet and then offering Killian her hand.

“You know, Swan,” Killian said when he was back on his feet. “I think someone needs to muzzle that dwarf.”

Emma giggled, as the sound of her father’s shocked “WHAT?!” on the other end of the walkie came through.

She shrugged. “What can I say? It wouldn’t be Christmas without a little family drama.”

“True enough, love. Shall we adjourn to your parents’ loft and face the music together?”

“Absolutely,” Emma answered, taking his hand and lacing his fingers with hers. “Together is how I see us doing a lot of things in the future.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

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