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#still not over somehow after 15 ???? years finally hearing of someone else reading this thing
gingerrhd · 24 days
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Hey! Recently, I stumbled upon your Wolven fanart and let me say I was instantly blessed by it (trans Nat is so real). I thought nobody else read it, but I'm glad that's not true!!! Thank you for your hard work 🙏‍🙏‍🙏‍🙏‍🙏‍
!!!!! thank you !! :) to be completely honest, i have never met anyone else that has read the books either, which for the time they were published it wild. that sorta thing shoulve been popular. ykno the early 2000s kids media love for werewolf/ vampire kids horror genre look ik its my duty as a queer to queer the media i like but this one, this bit is so right andi feel so vindicated that you see it too :0 at somepoint im gonna get round to continuing my re-read and draw more stuff from wolven, as to when i get there ?? who knows probs the next time im abroad and deliberately pick somewhere with zero access to the internet
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starryocean · 1 year
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finished reading So I’m a Spider/Kumo desu ga volume 15.
I know i’ve skipped a lot of volumes, and that i promised to get to them eventually...but I’ve kind of realized that that’s not gonna happen. at least not anytime soon. So I’m going to go ahead and talk about volume 15 since it’s the most recent one I’ve read, and when volume 16 comes out hopefully I’ll post my thoughts then too.
So, highlights: attempting to explain everything to everyone. Shun going through the Taboo menu, finally letting us know what it looks like and how it feels to have unlocked it. We did get an early glimpse of it in the anime, but even so it’s nice to finally have it actually appear on-screen in the text itself. I also liked that Natsume lived and was repentant about everything he did while still being himself, although I feel like it would have been more powerful if the LN kept the “Dreaming Boy” interlude from the WN, even if it doesn’t end with his death this time. The downtime in general for everyone to learn, process, and discuss everything was very nice. If it was all action again after just having had that big battle with Potimas, then I probably would have gotten frustrated with the narrative.
The bit where Sofia went and both managed to ruin the rest of the explanations and yet do them in a better way than White in some aspects was very funny, truth be told. As well as the fact that Sofia accidentally set people up for hope of returning only to let them down hard--all of that was very true to her character, as well as the fact that she did seem to express some guilt at having done so. I liked her self-awareness with regards to having been able to escape the thread at any point but not doing so because it would only get her into more trouble. That actually shows a bit of growth on her part, as well as the fact that she even tried to help White explain anyway. She’s getting a little less impulsive, a little more willing to help, but is still suffering from her egotism, Envy skill, and general lack of care about other people besides the ones she’s managed to get close to.
I also liked Phelmina’s characterization during the moments she shows up. Yuri still being creepy and super devoted even after not being brainwashed is good too. The scene where she casually self-harms is properly disturbing, although I’m not too sure on how it was handled. It definitely gives a lot more insight into her character and how she might have ended up as she did in this world--her having been suicidally depressed while living in Japan, then suddenly being thrust into a new world, and then being raised by a tightly-controlled church in service of a God who’s voice you can actually hear...that would have been something I could see someone clinging so strongly onto in the absence of anything else that could help. Especially given the fact that therapy isn’t often used in Japan, and the only equivalent in the kind of “time period” the setting is supposed to be in is the church.
I’m also really, really happy that Shun reacted like a normal fucking human being when Sue drugged him and attempted to rape him. I swear that shouldn’t be such a low par to pass, but somehow it is and I’m glad kumo desu passed it. Shun being rightfully disturbed, unsure what to do, and also attempting to set hard boundaries with Sue and annoyed that she still took advantage of his kindness in trying to comfort her is the kind of reaction I would have expected out of anyone in that situation. Honestly I wish he did get angry and yell at her, especially considering what a hard breach of boundaries and trust that was, but it is true to his characterization that he’d just want to restrain her from doing anything else and settle things more calmly. His attempts to make Sue not as attached over the years and him being rather upset and second-guessing everything he did in light of that incident was pretty realistic too.
The only annoying bit about that whole thing was how it was played for laughs in the way Katia, Yuri, and Fei intervened and stopped it, but the fact that it played Shun being rather disturbed and upset about things straight helped. I guess maybe Okina Baba played it for laughs initially was to kind of lessen the impact of how fucking creepy and honestly horrifying that was that Sue went so far. Because there’s always been a sense of lightheartedness to Kumo desu even when horrible things are happening on-screen, I could see Okina Baba wanting to not go super hard like that while still making sure to treat it as a serious thing later. Not sure if I like it still, but it makes sense based on the general tone of the series.
(the details Tsukasa Kiryu did of Shun’s face while drugged, despite being contrasted with the “silly” panel below, also help create that impression in my mind. The way Kiryu did Shun’s expression definitely isn’t “funny,” and is actually quite creepy to look at. If he’d drawn it as one of those faces with spirals for eyes and an open mouth with a dip like it’s drooling, I’d be way angrier about the “playing for laughs” thing.)
The “World Quest” being done in stages is also cool, too. It’s kind of funny that D set it up to essentially be decided by popular vote, but the image the wording creates of people getting down on their knees and praying desperately for the salvation they want to happen is also very powerful. The fact that Dustin is well-versed in the skills needed to win an “election” like this, including dirty things like manipulating votes, is also a good use of his character and backstory. He’s already proven himself to be willing to use underhanded tactics to get what he wants done--it makes sense that he’d do the same thing with trying to get the outcome he desires.
The fact that Ariel also didn’t even bother trying to convince anyone to join her side and instead basically declared “I’m going to do what it takes no matter what, you can try and stop me if you want, but it won’t change anything because I would never have expected anything different from you people. Because you’re all guilty of having done the same thing before and that’s why we’re even in this fucking mess, so if you try and stop me it’ll just confirm everything I’ve already known to be true for so long” is also really powerful. She hasn’t had any expectations for humanity (of this world at least) to do or choose better for thousands of years. She’s been trying to fix things for thousands of years. Of course she’s not going to bother making a plea for support--humanity may as well be dead to her already.
All she cares about is saving the last of her family, whether Sariel wants it or not. She’s thrown away hundreds if not thousands of lives in pursuit of this goal already. She doesn’t have time to care about anything or anyone else, beyond her goals and the people she’s already gotten to help her. She’s on borrowed time and won’t live past a year. She’s out of fucks to give. So she’s going to do whatever it takes no matter what cuz fuck everyone else. Come at her if you want--you’ll just die for nothing, because Ariel already knows she’s going to win. She’s not accepting any other outcome.
Like damn. That moment hit me.
I honestly can’t think of anything else to say--I don’t really have any complaints? Shun stubbornly insisting on his idealism, while annoying, is still in character, and probably exacerbated by Taboo. Anything else I can think of that might ave irked me I’ve already discussed. I feel like it was a solid volume in general tbh. The only way I can think of the ending being disappointing like everyone on the kumo subreddit says it is, is if White and Ariel lose and lose badly despite everything they’ve worked so hard towards. Like I know there’s not going to be a good ending either way, but I’d rather it take the form of White and Ariel winning and the devastation of so many people dying being even worse than they’d already expected and having to live with the consequences in an uncertain future, than having thrown away all of the progress, all of the hard work, and basically everything to series was building up towards and dumping it straight into the garbage as part of the ending.
Especially given that I’ve heard the author said the WN was supposed to be the Bad Ending specifically, given that everyone is so much more horrible in the WN and things went so differently that the only way it could end is in tears, specifically because everyone is awful forever. Or something. I don’t really know because I don’t read the WN anymore because I refuse to suffer through turb0′s godawful translations just to get to the part where things are actually possible to comprehend. like. if the LN is already so much better and easier to read, why the hell would I make myself suffer through machine translation of the exact same story but with everyone having worse personalities and an even worse ending?
so yeah. the only thing I can think of that would make the ending actually bad at this point is like I said above--if the author threw away everything they were building towards and set it on fire instead of trying to get a satisfying conclusion. Okina Baba has proven to be a better author than that, and nothing that happened that was horrible ended up being for shock value so far, instead having an actual point, so I don’t see him doing that.
So that’s my thoughts on volume 15. again, no spoilers in comments or reblogs. I want to see the ending for myself and if anyone tells me how it goes before I get to read it, I’m going to be quite angry. This includes the WN, too.
Otherwise, feel free to tell me your own thoughts on this one.
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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nostaren · 3 years
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Mr. Lonely
TOJI FUSHIGURO X READER
part 15 | series masterlist | next
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Spending time with your underclassmen had proved to be really refreshing, as hesitant to the idea as you had been at first. The time was as such that you ideally should’ve been asleep by now, especially considering you had places to be tomorrow, but you didn’t feel tired in the slightest.
At exactly 3 am, you, Yuuji and Nobara were venturing the school premises, walking animatedly and acting very much like drunken fools without actually having had anything to drink. It was odd how much energy the three of you had, what with having not slept since the previous night.
“I’m telling you, he must be putting wax in his hair to have it stand up like that.”
“I don’t know, Itadori… Fushiguro doesn’t seem like the person to do anything with his hair other than brush it.” 
You thought about it, Megumi standing in front of a mirror and maneuvering his hands to style each strand. You snorted at the mental image. “Definitely not.”
Itadori’s hands moved to run through his pink locks. “And I do?”
“Yes,” both you and Nobara said in unison.
His response was gleeful. “So out of the two of us, I actually take care of myself!”
You and Nobara shared a glance, immediately breaking into a fit of giggles. While not particularly regimen-conscious, Megumi definitely took better care of his hygiene, the lack of smelling of sweat nearly as frequently as Yuuji being evidence to that.
“Why are you laughing? Oh! By the way, Kugisaki, we needed to read some pages in some book until tomorrow—no, later today? I just… don’t remember which book… or which pages.”
“What!? Why the hell are you telling me now?”
“You were away with Fushiguro and Panda all day! Oh no, I forgot to tell him too—ow! Stop hitting me!”
You zoned out the rest of the conversation, not really a part of it, instead becoming lost in your thoughts while trudging along to their pace.
The original plan had been to bring Megumi with you, too, but when Yuuji had incessantly knocked on his door, his response after a few minutes was to open it, call you lot morons for waking him up over something so ridiculous, then promptly sliding it shut. Hence Megumi being the subject of discussion for a good bit of your walk when the male wasn’t there to hear any of it. Nothing too horrible was brought up, just stuff that would surely make him sneeze a couple of times.
Before Yuuji had joined in, it was Nobara that dragged you out of bed, angrily going out about how men weren’t shit and how you shouldn’t spend even one second of your precious time mulling over him. Hearing her exclaim all of that without even knowing the full story pulled at your heartstrings. Nobara proved time after time how much of an unconditional friend she was, having your back even when you didn’t ask for it.
You hadn’t really been left to sort your thoughts the whole day, having been accompanied by at least one person at all times if you didn’t count the small window between when Gojo had escorted you to your room to when Nobara had come to get you. And while it would have been comforting to spill everything to Nobara—heck, even Gojo—you held back because you couldn’t help but feel it was an irrational sadness.
Because yes, you did feel a little sad.
The feeling creeped up on you as a few minutes passed of blankly watching shadows shifting across trees and listening to the bickering of your friends, sometimes adding to it, but otherwise just tagging along.
It was from being attentive of your surroundings that allowed you to notice a fourth person. A lone figure leaned on the railing of the approaching bridge, slightly hunched over and lazily typing away at his phone. 
It was by no means odd to see a person out at this hour, but within these particular school grounds? That was odd. You were outside despite it being past curfew, and you couldn’t recognize the silhouette in the distance to be one of the students. There weren't even as many students as there were fingers on your two hands, so you'd recognize any of them.
Hopefully he wasn't a teacher that you just didn't recognize, like Nanami.
Or, if he was a teacher, you hoped he was one that was as lenient about rules as Gojo.
Either way, you'd likely just pass him by and throw a casual ‘hello’ at him. No need to work yourself up over it.
But in the day's second douse of horrendous luck, your eyes, even in the dark, happened to catch sight of the particular way black strands of hair fell over his face. Your lips puckered as you took in his quite tall frame and the outline of his legs. After a moment of contemplation, you, brows furrowing, craned your neck to get a better look at him.
Was that—?
No. Fucking. Way.
“Guys let’s go that way,” you attempted to whisper over their exhilarated yelling from a heated argument, heart hammering loudly in your ears and adding to the stress of a situation you did not want to be in. When that didn’t work, you pulled at the back of Nobara’s shirt.
“Hey, that’s going to wrinkle!” 
Her exclamation fell short when seeing your form shrunken on itself in an attempt at hiding. 
“…you okay?”
“It’s—“ you threw a pointed glance towards the figure up front. “It’s him.”
 She turned to look.
“Not so obvious,” you hissed, inwardly groaning at how there was no way a certain someone wouldn’t realize you were now talking about him if he so much as glanced up. 
Yuuji meanwhile observed your exchange, oblivious to what exactly was happening but still managing to draw some (very faulty) conclusions of his own.
“Eh? Do you know him?” Yuuji squinted his eyes as if that would make him see better in the dark. To your horror, his arm moved up in a wave. “HEEEEEY!! OVER HE—mmph!”
You tackled him to the ground with a hand pressed to his mouth, tumbling into a nearby brush just as the figure ahead looked up from his phone. That left Nobara standing there awkwardly, staring at Fushiguro looking at her as if she’d grown two heads.
Your hands moved to loosely enclose around Yuuji’s throat in a mock-choking manner, whispering, “You’re a moron, you know that?”
“I know,” he whispered back. “But what did I do wrong this time?”
Your mouth opened to take your words back because now you felt a little bad, but Nobara’s “psst” interrupted you.
You looked up from Yuuji. “What do I do!?” Nobara hissed through gritted teeth.
A few seconds of deafening silence passed whereas you tried to think of something, but you apparently thought for too long because she finally decided on very obviously ducking into the bush with the rest of the crew.
Great. Real inconspicuous, Nobara. No way he could’ve seen that.
The three of you sat looking at each other with wide eyes, not knowing what to do next.
“What’s he even doing here?” you broke the silence, being mindful of keeping your voice low.
“He can’t enter without permission, so he must be here for Gojo-sensei or principal Yaga… Right?” came Nobara’s answer.
She was right. He couldn’t have gone through the barriers put up by Tengen if not invited. So had Gojo somehow found out that it was Fushiguro that was involved? Or…
You couldn’t feel even a slither of cursed energy reeking from his person, no matter how hard you concentrated, meaning he must be a civilian. Gojo had a knack for doing things inappropriately, but to invite a civilian into Jujutsu High? Surely, he didn’t…
But then again, you knew nothing of their relationship.
Either way, you just wished to remain hidden until he was done with whatever business he had here so you could make your way to the dorms and sleep the accumulated stress away.
Some shuffling from the left broke your thoughts. Yuuji was crouching down, peering through the leaves. “He’s gone.”
A collective sigh of relief was heard.
It didn’t last long.
“This peeping tom a friend of yours?”
“Uwaah!”
The three of you scrambled away from the source of the sudden voice.
While the question undoubtedly was directed at you, Fushiguro didn’t seem to know who you were.
The three of you shared a knowing glace, each expression some form of shock, feeling a little disturbed over how he had managed to sneak behind all of you, civilian or not.
His eyes skimmed over your forms, back and forth and then further to the sides as if looking for someone else. Not finding it, his eyes zoned in on you and Nobara. “So, which one of you is it?”
Nobara, immediately realizing what he meant, angrily exclaimed, “Do I look that old to you!?” and pointed an accusatory finger at you, as if you were the one to cause her offense. You wanted to tell her that three years wasn’t much, and that it wasn’t really enough to tell that much of a difference, but your mouth remained clamped shut.
Green eyes met yours. “Leave us.”
From the corner of your eyes, you saw Yuuji moving to stand. “You expect us to just leave Y/n-senpai alone with you!?”
Sweet, sweet Yuuji.
Nobara moved to stand as well, grabbing Yuuji by the arm. “We’ll be on our way now. You two take your time.”
Horrible, horrible Nobara.
You thought she’d want you to—had even told you to—move past him, not to figure things out. Admittedly, you’d rather do the former than the latter because at least then you wouldn’t need to talk about feelings yuck and you hadn’t had any time to really think whether or not to forgive him, should he apologize.
Yuuji sputtered in disagreement and you could do nothing but break eye-contact with the looming man above you to watch as Nobara dragged a flailing Yuuji behind her, wishing it was you in his stead.
“You have alllll night,” she winked.
And then you were alone with Fushiguro.
.
.
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reidgraygubler · 3 years
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look at my son (spencer reid/reader)
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Title: look at my son 
Request: no
Couple: dad!spencer reid/fem!reader
Category: fluff w/ a side of angst
Content Warning: spencer’s pov, mentions of an absent father, mentions of child birth, crying, anxieties about parenthood, new parents, talks about spencer’s past (prison, addiction, kidnapping), brief mentions about past suicidal thoughts, mentions of drugs (Dilaudid) and needles
Word Count: 3,957
Summary: spencer has a heart to heart with his newborn son while his wife sleeps.
A/N: totally based on dear theodosa from the hamilton soundtrack. I am not afraid to say that. Definitely big feels happening and there’s no regrets. this is possibly my favorite thing i’ve ever written. my best friend said it was soft and adorable, and so sweet she needed a dentist. i love it so much.  thank you all so much for the love and support! check out my masterlist!
{***}{***}{***}
“Go to sleep, please, you need rest,” I whispered as I looked down at my overly-exhausted wife. Although her face was looking up at me, her eyes were somewhere else. They were on a small figure just to the left of me. Her eyes had a certain glossiness over them, and it was most certainly from her exhaustion or the hours of pain she just endured to bring our son into the world. 
“B-but,” she finally looked away from the figure and up at me. “What… What if he wakes up… And, and he needs me.” Her voice was soft and cracked at the end of her words. I smiled softly as I tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
“It’s a good thing I never sleep. Please, you really need the rest. I’ll be here,” I returned the whisper before pressing my lips to her forehead. Her hand gripped mine as I went to move away. I looked down at her, appreciating the way the dim lamp lit up her face. Even though she was extremely tired, she still looked beautiful to me.
“If he wakes up… Or… Or cries… Or moves the wrong way… Please, wake me up," she whispered, her eyes still on me. The grip she held on my hand wasn’t super tight, but it was tight enough for me to keep my hand in hers.
“Please trust me… He’ll be fine and I’ll be fine. If I need help I’ll get a nurse,” I lifted a hand and gently held her face. She slowly blinked and nodded. “Everything will be okay for an hour, okay?” 
“Okay, okay,” she looked between me and the sleeping baby, “An hour is so long,” she whined. I smiled before laughing softly. 
“Get some rest,” I pressed my lips to her forehead, again, before to her lips, “I love you,” I looked down at her with a soft smile.
“But...”
“Go to sleep,” I stared at her. She grumbled a little bit before pulling the blanket further up her body. I finally pulled my hand from hers and went back to the chair. I kept my eyes on her for a few minutes, watching as she tossed and turned before eventually falling asleep. I felt a little bad for forcing her to go to sleep, mostly because I knew she wanted to spend every waking moment with our son. But when she was actually awake, she was so exhausted that it looked like she’d pass out at any moment.
When I was sure she was asleep for a little while, I flipped my book open and began to read. Of course, my attention only lasted for so long when a soft sound came from the bassinet beside me. I pulled my eyes off the book and looked towards my son. He was wiggling slightly in his spot, but just a little bit. If you were just looking in the room, and not right at him, you wouldn’t have noticed him moving. But my attention was solely on him, so I could see his movements.
I looked over at my sleeping wife, noting that she was stirring slightly. My eyes stayed on her for a moment, waiting till she got comfortable again before I stood from the chair and walked over to the bassinet. 
“Hey there,” I looked down at the wiggling form. I know he wasn’t looking at me, but my heart grew as he moved his head to face me. “Your mom is asleep right now. So, you’ve got me. Your dad,” I whispered as I carefully rested my hand on his body. He was so small, my hand was almost the size of him. “I’m your dad.” 
I stayed silent as I stared at him. I didn’t want to pick him up, in case he went back to sleep. Of course, luck would not be on my side. Because the second I pulled my hand from his body, he started screaming and crying. 
“Oh, please, please don’t,” I cringed as I quickly looked over my shoulder at my wife. She had begun stirring again, slowly waking up. “I got it, it’s okay,” I spoke loud enough for her to hear. I turned and looked back at the screaming boy. 
“Shhh, it’s okay,” I whispered as I picked him up, holding him close to my chest with both my hands. The second he was close to me, he calmed down. A small sigh of relief came from me as I turned to sit back down.
My wife was still, her eyes on me with a small smile on her lips. “Go back to sleep, I got it,” I looked back at her as I adjusted my hold on the baby. 
“He’s so little in your arms though…” she whispered as she kept her eyes on me. I looked up from our baby and at her. “Just a widdle man,” she closed her eyes before sighing deeply. 
“Yeah, he is, isn’t he?” I asked, bringing my hand to his face. My fingers gently brushed across his cheeks before down the bridge of his nose. 
I was happy I didn’t get an answer from my wife. I was even happier when I looked up at her and she was asleep. Actually asleep too. I could only hope it was a restful sleep this time. 
My attention was drawn back down to my son when he started crying a little bit. I was instantly looking at his face. The longer I stared at him, the more my heart swelled or fluttered or whatever it was it was doing. I knew a lot of things. But, I didn’t know the feeling I was having for my son, my own child. Of course, I felt this feeling before with my wife. But this was somehow different.
“So, anyway, I’m your dad… That’s so weird to say… that I’m someone’s dad now,” I whispered as I brought my hand to hold the back of his head. “I never thought I’d ever say that, but we’ll keep that between you and me, okay?” I smiled softly. My body carefully swayed back and forth to try to keep him quiet. 
I stayed quiet as I stared at him. I wasn’t scared that I’d wake him up. No, I was just scared I’d say the wrong thing. But can you really say the wrong thing to a baby who was 12 hours old? I wasn’t entirely sure, but it was one of my fears.
“You know, growing up I didn’t exactly have a dad. He left me when I was just 10,” my voice was hardly a whisper as I stared at him. I could feel tears begin to well in the corner of my eyes. There was nothing I could do to stop them either. I just had to let them roll down my cheeks.
“I just had my mom. And, well, my mom just had me." I brought my hand back to rest on his body. The way he breathed seemingly calmed me down. But I think it was the fact that he was okay that was calming me. He’s been okay since the first day we knew about him. In fact, he was more than okay. He was perfect.
“But I promise,” my voice was shaky as I stared at him, “I’ll be around for you. You’ll have a mom and a dad.” I tried to keep my voice from cracking, but it was hard not to let the emotions show. 
I pressed my head back into the headrest behind me. Just as my eyes closed, he started moving around against my chest. I looked down at him and saw him looking back up at me. 
“Hey there,” I laughed as I looked at his eyes, “You have your mom’s eyes,” I wrinkled my nose as I stared at him. 
I tried to not think about all the monsters in the world outside of our hospital room. All the horrors and terrors his mom and I have gone through to get to this very moment. I’d do whatever it takes just to make sure he’s safe and sound. The thoughts of the monsters made me scared. Is this what parenthood would be? Being scared every waking moment, while simultaneously being in love, and embracing the ups and downs of everything? 
Was I prepared for this? Was I prepared at all to be a father? I mean, I didn’t have a father figure till I was 22, but even he left me. I tried to not think about it, but it was becoming increasingly harder the more I sat in silence.
With a deep sigh, I looked down at him. I was happy he was quiet. He had a long day too. Being born can do a lot to a person, well to more than a person. I think I’m more happy than tired, to be honest. That he’s here, and he’s perfect, and no one would ever be as perfect as he is to me.
I’ve waited for this moment for… I don’t even know. I don’t think there was a starting point, the feeling was just always there. 9 months ago just fueled this feeling. And, now he’s here. It took him a long time today, too. He really wanted his first appearance to be grand. Just like his mother.
“I’m a dad,” I whispered, this time letting my words break. My eyes stayed glued to him. It was impossible to say how much time had passed, but I knew it was a while. And his mom stayed asleep the whole time. Just like how he did. 
If I had known I’d become a dad 15 years ago, when I was kidnapped by Tobias Henkel, when I thought I’d die then… I probably would have been safer and stayed with JJ. I wouldn’t have split up with her. Or, all those times after I was kidnapped, sitting in a bathroom stall with a needle in my arm while Dilaudid ran through my bloodstream, waiting for the high to kick in or take me for good. Or… Or my time in prison, where there were the times I almost got killed… I could go on, really. I have too many near-death experiences to count.
“I can’t wait to tell you all the stories I know, you’ll love them,” I ran my finger back down his nose before resting it gently on his lips, then on his chin. “Russian folk tales… Chaucer, like my mother told me… Stories of cases your mom and I were on,” I smiled as his nose twitched slightly. I sighed deeply before pressing my head against the chair behind me. “Maybe someday I’ll teach you chess.”
Even though all he did was just be born, he still went through some traumatic stuff. All of that can do a lot to a person. And when he was finally here, and in our arms, he cried. He cried to let his long awaited parents know he was finally here. It made my wife cry, and it made me cry. But it was the way he cried that broke my heart. The sharp ear-piercing screams resonated in the room, and I knew for sure I’d never forget it.
My arms stayed still, holding him close to my chest. I couldn’t stop my eyelids from shutting, like miniature garage doors closing. My body was yelling, shouting for sleep. Even though I never slept before this, watching my wife give birth, and all the moments leading up to this moment here, were exhausting. But they’re precious moments. All 3 of us may be exhausted, but it’ll be worth it all. 
Although, it was this moment that I decided every day was going to be for him. He was going to be the reason I’d return home instead of staying at the office late. Before his birth, and even before we found out about him, I never envisioned my life turning domestic. To be honest, even though I longed to be a parent, I never truly envisioned myself adopting a domestic life-style. 
 As long as he stayed still in my arms, he could stay with me while I slept. I think even if he squirmed a little bit in my arms, he couldn’t get very far. His tired little body was wrapped tightly in his blanket. Thankfully he was fast asleep, not a care in the world. He was still entirely too little to have anything to care about, other than eating and sleeping. 
It was early in the morning, or some would say late at night. Our room was dark, the only light coming from the small desk lap on the nightstand beside me. Outside, the sun was just starting to rise, making the sky a dark pale blue. Usually I’d watch the sunrise, but… my son. 
The quietness of our room mixed with the whispers of the nurses out in the halls, and their squeaky shoes, and the whirring of the hospital machinery became my soft lullabies, lulling me to sleep. The three of us slept peacefully, not a bother in the room.
But what it was that actually got me to sleep was the thought of him growing up. I thought I was smart, but the images and thoughts of him older, and even now, made me so… happy that I felt dumb.  
{***}{***}{***}
“When did you say they were coming?” my wife asked, looking between me and the baby. I looked down at my watch, trying to remember when the team would come over to visit. It wasn’t that I forgot when they were coming over… I just had other things on my mind. Like my son and wife for instance.
“I think, any minu-”’-te now.’
“Alright, where’s my precious godson!” a woman exclaimed, cutting me off, as she entered the room. I looked over at the door for a brief moment, watching as 4 people walked into the room. A small smile grew across my lips as I recognized the 4 people as Penelope, Luke, JJ, and Emily. 
“Hey,” my wife looked at everyone with a big smile and exhausted eyes. 
“Good morning, mom and dad,” Penelope looked between us. The smile she wore was bright and cheery, like usual. She carried a balloon, a stuffed animal, and a few large gift bags. 
“It’s so nice seeing you guys,” my wife smiled as she spoke.
“It’s hard to believe that you just had a baby. You look… Amazing,” JJ laughed as she looked at my wife. My wife looked over at JJ with a certain exhaustion in her eyes. 
“I don’t feel like I look amazing,” she laughed lightly. The baby in her arms wiggled slightly, causing everyone to look at him.
“Oh, look at him,” Penelope cooed as she looked between me, my wife, then finally at my son. I smiled as I looked at the small baby in my wife’s arms. “You must be so proud, Spence." “Well, I wouldn’t say proud is the word I’m looking for,” I laughed as I peeled my eyes off my child and looked at Penelope, Luke, JJ, and Emily. Although I was half expecting them to be looking at the sleeping baby, they were looking at me. How did they not want to look at my baby? He’s all I wanted to look at. He had my undivided attention now. 
“It’s so weird that you're a dad now,” JJ laughed as she walked around the other 3 guests and came to stand closer to me. I smiled, watching as she placed a small, pale blue gift bag on the small table. 
“Do you want to hold him?” My wife looked up at JJ with a smile. JJ looked down at the baby before up at my wife. 
“Are-are you sure?” JJ laughed lightly as she looked between my wife and child. I smiled as I looked at JJ. I laughed lightly at her hesitance. To be fair, she just wanted to make extra sure it was okay, since we’re new parents. 
“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure,” my wife laughed as she carefully held out her arms. JJ smiled as she carefully picked our baby up from her arms. I smiled as she sat on the edge of the bed, holding my baby close to her body.
“He’s… precious,” JJ whispered as he looked down at him. “He has your nose,” she looked over at my wife, who was lovingly looking at our baby. A small smile grew across her lips as she nodded. 
 “Well, he has his father’s eyes.” My wife looked up at me with a small smile. If we hadn’t already argued over his little facial features, I would’ve argued with her that our son looks the most like her. That was why he was perfect. 
“Has Derek come by yet?” Emily asked as she looked away from the baby and at me.
“He said he’d visit when we got back home,” I nodded as I looked over at her. Emily nodded before returning her gaze back to the baby. Everyone was looking at him, and I didn’t blame them. 
“You guys… You take all the time that you need. Don’t rush back to the office,” Emily nodded. 
“But please come by and visit us all you want,” Penelope spoke as she looked between my small family. I laughed and nodded.
“We’ll definitely come and visit you guys.”
“You all know Spence. Can’t stay away from the office for a long time,” it was my wife’s turn to talk. She looked at me and lifted a hand. I looked back at her, adoring the way she smiled at me. I lifted my hand and placed it in hers. When she finds out that my days of staying late at the office are over, I’m sure she’ll be more than excited.  
“Maybe those days are over,” I shrugged as I looked down at the baby. I smiled softly and felt a sudden wave of calm wash over me. Everyone looked away from the baby and up at me with mild shock on their faces. 
“Really?” My wife asked as she gently pulled on my arm. I looked down at my wife, noting the way she was looking back at me. 
“I’ve been thinking about it. No hard answers,” I spoke as I looked back at Emily.
“Take all the ti-” She was unfortunately cut off by her phone ringing, “time… I’ll be right back,” she nodded before leaving the room. 
“I can’t wait to spoil the little sucker,” Penelope clapped her hands together as she looked between us. I laughed, watching as Luke looked at his partner. 
“Sure, spoil,” he nodded. The moment was ruined by our son unexpectedly screaming. JJ looked over at my wife, an apologetic look on her face.
“It’s okay. You know how newborns are,” my wife laughed as she took the baby from JJ. 
“With that, we should probably go. Little guy’s probably hungry,” JJ nervously chuckled as she stood. I shoved my hands in my pockets and stepped over to the three. 
“Thanks for stopping over. You guys seriously don’t know how much this means to me… To us,” I gestured over to my wife as I spoke.
“Oh, Spence, of course! Wouldn’t miss visiting you guys the first day as parents,” JJ smiled as she hugged me. I hummed as I hugged her. 
I wasn’t sure how long I had been asleep, if I had slept at all. I wasn’t even sure if it was a restful sleep either. But what I did know that one second later my body jerked awake when the loud sharp cries of a baby. 
My eyes snapped open and I looked down at the screaming figure. I cringed as I glanced at my wife, who I hoped was sleeping. But she was awake. Her eyes were glued to me and the baby.
“What are you doing awake?” I asked as I looked over at my wife, who was looking at me with wide, dewy eyes. Her exhausted smile told me that she’d been awake for a while. I looked down at the screaming baby in my arms before looking back at her. “Figured that one out myself.” I laughed when I realized the redundancy of my question. I stood up and lightly bounced to try to quiet the baby.
“I can take him.” My wife smiled as she looked up at me and lifted up her hands. Her eyes were glued to the small figure in my hands. I looked down at the baby and nodded.
“Yeah, I knew you were about to say that.” I laughed as I stepped over to her. She finally looked away from the baby and up at me with a smile. “How’d you sleep?” 
“Well, I slept.” She sighed deeply as she held the baby close to her. She looked down at him and smiled. “Hello, little man," she whispered as she brought her finger down his nose. “How did you sleep?” 
“To be honest, I don’t think I did.” I wrinkled my eyebrows as I sat back down. “Just… I’m not sure anymore. I didn’t sleep before he was born… But now I think I’ve lost all chances of sleep with him.” I chucked as I looked over at them. 
“Well… I mean, I’m sure your 12 cups of coffee a day won’t help that situation.” She laughed as she glanced at me. I slouched back in my chair, resting my head on my fist. “Or, well, I take that back. Keep drinking your 12 cups. I don’t want to wake up at 3 in the morning for diaper changes.” She sighed as she looked at the baby.
“Guess I’m going to need all of the time off in the world then,” I spoke through a yawn. My wife smiled at me and nodded. “Surely Emily won’t care if we’re both off for a while. She’s got plenty of help with the team.”
“I think I’ll need the help more than Emily,” my wife chuckled lightly. “You should get some rest, Spencer. You look more exhausted than me.” 
“How do you know what you look like?” I furrowed my eyebrows. She glanced at me before patting the small space beside her. I looked at her hand before yawning again.
“Just a guess. C’mere,” she looked at me as she moved her hand back and forth on the space. With a deep sigh, I stood up and moved so I was sitting beside her on the bed. “There, now you’ll sleep better.” 
“And where’d you get this science from?” I asked as I rested my head on her shoulder. She chuckled lightly and shrugged.
“On the science that I’m your wife and I know you sleep better when you’re beside me instead of a crappy hospital chair.” She looked down at me. I looked back at her before blinking lightly.
“Okay, that’s pretty sound logic.” I nodded as I looked down at the baby, who was back to sleep. It was amazing what a mother’s touch could do.
“See, like father, like son," she whispered as she brought her hand back up to her face. I furrowed my eyebrows before smiling. “Please get some sleep.”
“Beginning to sound like me there.” I lifted my head slightly to look at her. She looked back at me before pressing her lips to mine. 
“Sleep tight.” She ruffled my hair slightly. I smiled before resting me head back on her shoulder. 
I was happy when sleep came to me. It felt more restful than before… Maybe my wife’s scientific logic made sense...
taglist: @mggsprettygirl​ @muffin-cup​ @thebluetint​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ 
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margarethx · 3 years
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Sambucky writing prompts
Because I have a lot of ideas and no ability to focus on writing any of them right now... so I might as well share. Feel free to use any of these. You can tag me or send a link if you want to. (Unless it's ”a story about poor, sad Bucky... and Sam is kinda there to help” type of fanfiction, bacause I love Sam too much to read something like that.)
Let's go!
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1. Both Sam and Bucky are trained to be Winter Soldiers at the same time. On one of the shared missions they accidentally form a connection which helps them with slowly getting their memories back, so they can escape together.
2. The Winter Soldier is sent to kill one Samuel Thomas Wilson, but for some reason he just cannot do it. (Or he almost did and regrets it immediately.)
3. Bucky's a mechanic that Sam called to help with repairing the boat and he works very slowly on purpose to have an excuse to see Sam more often.
4. Sam can actually talk to birds (as he should!) and they start to be annoying always asking about his dating life.
5. Sam is a literal angel. That's the prompt. (And canon.)
6. Sam and Bucky go on long, separate vacation. But they somehow end up in the same country, the same town, and the same hotel. Probably the same room too. What a surprise...
7. Bucky knows a lot of things about Sam and Sam is sure he never told him about any of that. Turns out Bucky migh have done some research between 2014 and 2016 when Sam was looking for him.
8. Sam discovers that Bucky had something to do with picking the designs for his new superhero suit.
9. Bucky finally tries to bond with Redwing and Sam does a very bad job at pretending he’s not amused.
10. Bucky has to deal with a painful realisation that Sam is not a supersoldier and that no matter how strong he is he'll always be more likely to get seriously hurt on their missions.
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11. When they are frustrated Bucky starts to speak Russian and Sam responds to him in Arabic which doesn't solve the initial problem, but at least it's funny. (Bonus points if one of them - or both - pretends to not now the language the other one's speaking.)
12. Bucky has a terrible reputation and looks dangerous, so everyone prefers to avoid him, but then he meets Sam who just makes fun of his edgy persona all the time... and Bucky for some gay reason lets him. Everyone else is just very confused and worried about Sam’s safety. (Probably some University/High School AU.)
13. [It’s more like an art prompt, but whatever.] They both have long hair now. No plot. Just both of them being in love and appreciating how handsome the other one looks.
14. Since both Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan exist in the MCU canon I’d love to see Sam and Bucky’s reactions to their actors being on screen when they watch movies together.
15. Bucky didn’t have much experience with dating since 1940s and he thought he’d be the awkward one once he and Sam get together, but it turns out Sam was never in any relationship, because he was too busy and neglected that part of his life.
16. They both have the canon skills/powers, but only one of them is a superhero. The other is “their” villain. So still enemies to lovers, but a different flavour.
17. Sam always had the ability to talk to birds. He just... forgot to mention it before to other people, including Bucky. So the power-reveal is quite unexpected.
18. Sam and Bucky literally hate each other – it’s not just their canon-like amused annoyance. But then they start to learn what happened to the other one in the past and the feelings slowly shift from hatered into something else. (Might be a No Powers AU)
19. Sam thinks that Bucky misses the 40s. Well, he’s wrong.
20. Sam is a regular civilian (who never met Steve). He finds Bucky right after he escaped HYDRA and helps him go back to normal life. (He might know who he’s helping or not.)
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21. Bucky learns about Riley, but he doesn’t learn it directly from Sam.
22. Sam and Bucky come back after the Blip, see each other, and try to deal with the situation together, no knowing what has just happened.
23. Bucky explains to Steve why he won’t go back to the past with him. It’s  mostly because of Sam, obviously.
24. A story about Sam and Bucky growing apart between Endgame and tfatws and how they dealt with feeling like they’re losing yet another person so soon. (And about them coming bact to each other again.)
25. Sam and Bucky learn how other people around them see their relationship. It doesn’t really mirror how they see this partnership themselves.
26. A classic role-swap. Sam is the Winter Soldier. Bucky’s the Falcon. Their personalities stay exactly the same.
27. Sam and Bucky try to tell someone who knows almost nothing about them how they met. (They lie or they don’t.)
28. Bucky deals with people who are openly against Sam as the new Captain. Sam deals with people who think Bucky should be locked up for being “with” HYDRA in the past.
29. Sam is still The Falcon and later Captain America, but Bucky’s a regular person who also happens to be Sam’s huge fan.
30. Dr. Raynor said she heard a lot about Sam (presumably from Bucky). But what exactly did Bucky tell her?
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31. Only one of them died after the Snap. The other one has to live for five years, hoping they’ll be able to reverse it.
32. The first time Sam and Bucky saw each other: scared, feeling exhausted, really happy, genuinely laughing, truly angry, crying, completely resigned, flustered, shy.
33. After being frozen in Wakanda Bucky lost all memories related to Sam. Sam has to decide whether he should use the opportunity to start the relationship over or let Bucky know about their less-than-ideal beginnings.
34. Sam accidentally gets super-serum. Bucky helps him with adjusting.
35. Bucky accidentally loses super-serum. Sam helps him with adjusting.
36. Sam used to visit Wakanda when Bucky was frozen and talked to him a lot, even when Bucky couldn’t hear him. (Well, couldn’t he?)
37. They have a conversation about Steve, but it’s Sam telling Bucky stories from their friendship (how they met, what they did as fugatives, how Sam feels about Steve leaving without saying goodbye).
38. Sam and Bucky use time travel (because they survived the Snap or for other reasons) and they see the past versions of themselves alone or interacting with each other.
39. Sam and Bucky are stuck in Soul Stone together. The problem is that they cannot really hide their emotions or memories as well as they would be able to as real people.
40. After disappearing in the Snap Sam gets a chance to talk to Riley. They know Sam will eventually come back to life, but they still can spend time together and get some closure that will help with moving Sam’s relationship with Bucky forward.
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onyxheartbeat · 3 years
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Dear HIM/Ville Valo fans,
this is a long post but I must discuss this.
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I came across this interview of Kat Von D from a few days ago. Before I get into my thoughts, below is a passage from her old book “Go Big or Go Home” which you may or may not have read. She wrote about Ville:
________
“I only knew his music, and I loved it on first listen. It was dark and it was beautiful. It was metal and it was poetry. It was love loaded into a gun, and I wondered about the man behind the songs.  Two years later, our paths crossed, and like the majority of the connections I’ve made in life, tattooing brought us together. Through our first tattoo sessions, we began to get to know each other. For the next few years, I just thought of him as my friend from overseas, and that was all. Then, after knowing him for six years, something changed. It could have been the wine, the music, or the moon. Most likely it was just perfect timing. Just one kiss, and he changed my world. We were both sad back then, and lost. I was depressed, having finally ended a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. I was also dealing with the pressures of filming a television show, which was totally new to me - and drinking my way blindly through it all. His story mirrored mine, and he had been feeling just as low. We had been waiting for something to happen, for someone or something to come along and save us from ourselves. And when it suddenly seemed that that someone was each other, it took us both by surprise. We shared darkness, and doing that bought light back into our somber worlds: for once, we didn’t feel alone.He’s the reason why I wanted to write music to begin with - and learn to sing. I remember the exact moment I made up my mind about making music. It was something I felt I needed to do, not for any reason other than a way to respond to him. It didn’t matter if the songs I’d write never saw the light of day, as long as he was able to listen to my music, my message to him. He had told me to look for a package at my door step, prefacing the delivery of the contents, his new album, saying, “These are all of the things that are easier sung than said.”I knew what he meant, but never imagined that each song would be filled with direct messages to me. I put the album on, and the music rushed out of the speakers and filled my house. His voice rang all around, making it’s way to the core of my heart with every word he sang. As cryptic as those lyrics may have been for anyone else, I knew exactly what each word meant and recognized every event and place he referred to. The songs were so beautiful, I just wished so badly that he could have said everything out loud just once to me. How should I respond to something like this? Where do I even start?The first time I saw him after I got sober, he was in town working on music. We sat in my office at the shop until the late hours of the night, talking and catching up about everything - music, home, art and work. Did we talk about love? No. We constantly danced around our past instead. What happened to us? I couldn’t find the courage to ask because I was scared of the answer I already knew. We decided to draw, with pencils and paper in front of us, we sat at opposite ends of the table. He pulled my three-minute timer from one of the nearby shelves, and placed it at the center of the table. He suggested we draw each other, and I was game. With a flip of the hourglass, the grains of sand moved from one vessel to the other, and we began.Sketching these timed portraits forced us to stare at each other, making it practically impossible to focus on the drawing itself. I had almost forgotten how beautiful his face was. He has a combination of eyes, lips, and a darkness to his looks that makes him look almost otherworldly. With him, I felt like I was at the center of an orderly, tranquil, magnificent universe. For those short three minutes, there were no questions about life or purpose. It was as if we never needed any more from each other than this.Like all people, I’ve suffered from love sickness and tasted the pain of love. The theatrical director of my mind, the one who staged all these versions of him and my life with him, seemed to be unaffected by reason. I was finding myself constantly day dreaming of the past.His eyes, his hands, his crooked smile - I’d ruminate over his features. Things he said. Things he did. Things he wrote. Things he drew. Things he sang. Over and over again, I’d sift through these images and memories as if they somehow contained the answer to my prayers. But I was living with a long-age memory of him; living so far away from the present moment.If we had spoken about what we were or what we thought we were, back when we got sober, I wouldn’t have been so confused, wandering what if, and writing the rest of our story in my mind. What did I expect? For him to magically not hear about me being in a relationship? And to not be bothered by it? If only he would have asked….. I would have….. If we could have only talked….. then things would be….. if we allowed ourselves to transform our fears of being open, vulnerable, then, I’d convince myself, we would be together. I realized that none of that mattered now. If I wanted to be free of this unrequited longing, I would have to make peace with the past and finally let it go. There was no way around it. But did I want to be free of it? - and him?I listened to one of his songs the other day. Out of all the songs he wrote on that album, this one was the most direct. He sings my name in the chorus. By the time the song is over, I’ve felt a range of emotions - I’m sad but happy, frustrated but calm. He sings about how I alone bring him to a place of stillness and peace within when we are together. What a victorious feeling - to enter into a place with him where no one else has been. To be able to bring goodness to and draw it out of someone. Those sweet thoughts were interrupted by  an e-mail from him. Impeccable timing as always. It’s just a short note, letting me now he’s somewhere out there, thinking of me. He ends the message by calling me “Star Face” - his pet name for me from long ago that no one else uses. At that moment, I loathe him for it. I loathe him because I love him. Sometimes it feels like it would be so much easier to walk away from this if he’d just tell me that he hates me, that he wants nothing to do with me. But instead he calls me “Star Face.” There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not letting go, either.‘Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.’The silver plane hurtled over Newfoundland, over the Labrador sea. Someone told me I might see the northern lights as I fly east and north, but I wouldn’t have noticed as I was deep in writing the letter that I had already mentally composed long before I decided to make this trip to see him over New Year’s Day. I didn’t have to edit myself this time, I knew exactly what the letter would say.I reread the note to myself before sealing the envelope. Then I drew out the first letter of his name in pencil on the front. What a beautiful letter it was, probably my favorite out of the entire alphabet. A letter I was so used to writing myself. With ease the swirls and curves of each arch seemed to flow from my heart, my mind’s eye, drawn in and through my arms to my hands, releasing themselves onto the pale ivory paper envelope. My plane landed soon after.I had missed this country, I had missed him, too. I wondered how time had treated him ,for it had been a few years since I had last seen him. I wondered if I still had the ability to quiet his heart when he was feeling manic. He always said I had a way of doing that when I was near. And I wondered if he even needed me in that way anymore.When we met up, he looked just as beautiful as the day we saw each other for the first time, almost ten years before. And as if no time had passed, we started right where we left off - hours flew by in the comfort of each other’s presence. Talking. Catching up.He asked if I was getting sleepy, and my attempt at concealing the tiredness was transparent. I looked at the clock; maybe it was the jet lag or the clock hands pointing to midnight, but I knew it was time to say good-bye. Reluctantly, we both stood up and tried our best to part ways. As good as it felt to be near him again, I gave him the letter I had written letting him know that I was letting the nation of us go. He took the sealed envelope, and then I watched him walk away for what I assumed would be the last time.My heart didn’t belong locked up in a tower across the ocean from my home. It belonged in my chest, beating, living, feeling, sometimes hurting, but always loving. I deserved to be free, and understanding and needing that more than a dream, I was finally able to let him go.”
_________
Now, let me start by saying, I’ve never understood this and I still don’t. I’ve had that passage saved in my drafts for years because I keep almost anything pertaining to Ville. 
I’ve been a HIM fan since I was about 15 years old, and have followed Ville’s life and work closely. The friendship between them was always apparent to HIM fans in those days, because we saw her in photos with the band often. I used to watch Miami Ink and LA Ink as regularly as pretty much anyone in those days, and I remember when this particular passage of her book was brought to light, the HIM fan base read it and we all had our thoughts. We were all aware of Screamworks being written about Kat (it’s obvious in the lyrics of the album) even though Ville never specifically said Kat’s name when asked about it in interviews.
I remember being baffled back when we as HIM fans discovered this passage from the book. I couldn’t imagine not making that relationship work if it was true love. I’m a bit biased because I adore Ville and he’s like a dream to me, but I just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like she took the relationship for granted or she didn’t love him enough to make it work; but I digress. I get it; love and relationships are complex.
Still, flash forward to this recent interview (the screenshot), she says it was unrequited love, and I’m still not understanding it. Why release all the songs now? Why didn’t she make it work if it was true love? Who is she trying to say was the one not reciprocating (as the word “unrequited” suggests) in the relationship? I don’t understand any of it. More than anything, I’ve had so many questions that I wish I could ask Ville about it all because he only spoke briefly about it all, and it was always rather cryptic. 
I’m only writing this as a HIM fan, and because I love Ville and his lyrics on Screamworks so, so much (it’s an extremely underrated album in the HIM discography, in my opinion) so I’m letting any fellow HIM lovers know she wrote an album in response to it, in case you’re interested. I haven’t followed Kat or her work in many years, so I don’t know what to make of all this, but it’s always been extremely apparent to me when listening to Screamworks that a lot of heart went into it and even pain, not that his lyrics on other albums aren’t like that too, but I felt it more on Screamworks. I feel that Ville was the one who was truly heartbroken.
You all probably know from following my blog that I’m obsessed with love and unrequited love. Any romantic stories, bittersweet letters, heartbreak, longing etc. is just my favorite thing in the world so please excuse the long post, haha.
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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the Wifilcon and the Winter Router
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC/Reader Summary: When Bucky learns that his neighbor has been stealing his wifi for months. Warnings: None A/N: I'm not a fanfic writer at all, this, like all my stories, are adaptations to fanfics. My original stories are not written in english, so this is also a translation. please do not repost my work
For an instant, Bucky thought that the knocking he was hearing was coming directly from his head, I mean, it wouldn't be the first time his mind played tricks on him, but he realized that the sound was actually coming, unluckily for him, from his apartment door. Oh no no no no no no no, I just got back from putting up with Sam for almost 6 full weeks, I don't need interaction with more people for now.
Bucky thought for a minute to ignore the sound, to wait for the person to give up and leave, anyway he didn't spend many days on this apartment, almost no one had seen him leave or enter the building and he had no contact with the neighbors, only with the lady on the 7th floor who once lost one of her cats, which ended up in Bucky's apartment, accidentally. Not that I found the cat in the alley and actually brought him to my apartment, it doesn't mean that I stole the cat, he was in the street by himself, I rescued him.
When the banging on the door stopped and Bucky thought he could breathe calmly again, a voice between altered and annoyed was heard all the way to the living room where he was sitting trying to overcome his third panic attack and fourth existential crisis of the day .
-"I know you're in there! I saw you coming in a few hours ago! I've been waiting for days for you to come back!"-
More out of instinct than anything else, Bucky pulled out the knife hidden in his right boot as he slowly backed away from the door. Do I really have a spy as a neighbor? Should I call Sam? Is he in danger too? Never mind now, you need an escape route Bucky, concentrate, third floor, window to the alley, 2 minutes max, the bike is parked far away, I'll have to run, but to where, rendezvous point, safe place, think....
- "for God's sake, open the door, I need you to pay for your fucking internet plan, I'm in the last season of my series and I need to know if Carolina died or not!"-
- "The internet?"- Between the andrenaline from escaping and the shock of not understanding what was happening Bucky spoke louder than an assassin, with over 60 years of experience, should have spoken. Oh, shoot.
-"Yes! Your wifi, I need it to finish watching my series"-
Whispering "wifi" to himself, Bucky tries to remember where he has heard that word before, this is what I get for never listening to Sam when he talks to me. But before he can continue his mental analysis of all the conversations with Sam about such stupid things as his favorite American Football team, the New Orleans Saints, that I remember, to how Antonio could possibly leave María on the last episode of the 6 o'clock telenovela of which Sam is a fan, his apparent "neighbor" spoke up again:
-"Jesus Christ, can you open the door? So we can resolve this like adults"-
Bucky resigned to the fact that he has given his position to the "enemy", walks to the door and opens it waiting for his death. Well at least if I die I won't have to listen to Sam again talking about Antonio and María. But on the other side of the door, there was a woman, who in her pajamas, very unthreatening but cute, was watching him as if he were a ghost but still with defiance in her eyes, in one breath she introduced herself and continued her speech about her complaint to Bucky:
-"As I was saying, I need you to pay for your internet"-
-"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I understand what you mean"- mumbled Bucky.
- "Good Lord"- To Bucky's surprise his neighbor, pushes him and enters his home, well not so much a home home, more like the headquarters of his secret club, of which he is the president, vice president and only member, the point is that it is his place, where he can (and wants to be alone), as she lives here. This must be a dream, maybe I hit my head too hard in the last mission and I am unconscious in the hospital.
Crossing the room, Bucky's unwanted visitor looks around searching for something while whispering the words "I see you are quite minimalist, but maybe this is too much, someone urgently needs to look for some inspiration on Pinterest". She stops abruptly in front of the shelf where, in theory, a TV should go, while shouting: "EUREKA", she bends down and picks up a white device which has two antennas and like a million little blinking lights, damn, that looks like something out of a spaceship, I'm being watched by aliens? I'm being spied on by Kree?
-"This is your router, this is where the internet signal comes from, which I need you to pay for so I can finish watching my series"-.
Bucky, still in shock for the third time in less than 15 minutes, as he processes the idea that perhaps Thanos' unknowing twin is spying on him for a second invasion of earth and revenge for his brother's death. He can only nod to his now more relaxed and happy neighbor.
-"Perfect, thanks! I need to check the food I left in the oven, I'll talk to you later"- and as quickly as she came she left through the same door, leaving Bucky with more doubts than answers, peeking down the hallway, he realizes that she is the neighbor who lives next door, to his right. When Bucky comes out of his initial stupor, still not fully understanding what is going on, he decides to take his cell phone out of his pocket and call his own personal Google to solve his doubts about this century: Sam Wilson.
-"Hey Buck! What's up?"-how does he always manage to sound so happy? focus Buck.
-"What the hell is a router and why do I have one in my house?"- somehow Bucky manages to formulate, although maybe his voice cracked a little on the last words.
-"That thing's been there for at least two months and you didn't even notice it? Have you even paid the bill?"-
-"You put this in here? Without telling me????"- maybe Sam is also a Kree? Who can I trust now? It's all a trap?
Listening to Bucky's accelerated breathing, Sam tries to explain to him slowly, that in this century life without internet is not life, but obviously as Bucky does not even know how to set the alarm on his own cell phone, he was in charge of buying the router and creating the contract with the company so that, the 106 year old man could have his personal network at home. He had given it the name but he had not given it a password so that Bucky himself could set it up later. "I am an excellent friend, I mean co-worker, if I may say so"
-"Sorry man, after all that happened, we got called for a mission and I forgot to tell you, do you have your laptop over there? I'll help you set up a password, so your neighbors won't steal your internet anymore"- and with that comment everything started to make sense in Bucky's slightly screwed up but functional mind about the events with his seemingly non-spy and harmless neighbor.
Meanwhile Bucky was trying to remember his own password to unlock the laptop in front of him, also courtesy of Sam. "Bucky, when you learn about online banking and that you can pay your rent, electricity, phone and everything with a click of your computer, you will thank me". It should be noted that Bucky hasn't used that laptop once, like a good 100 year old grandpa he goes to the bank to make his deposits and pay his debts, which obviously consisted only of electricity, water, gas and phone because the man had no idea that there was a device in his house that spit out internet, apparently only his next door neighbor knew this. Buck tells Sam how he thought his router was an alien device and how he thought his neighbor was a KGB agent coming to kill him. "Relax Buck we all have undesirable neighbors that steal our internet signal sometimes", well undesirable is not the word I would use to describe her but ok.
When Sam finally explains to him how to connect his computer to the internet, Bucky can finally see the name that his wonderful co-worker, not friend, because he could never be friends with someone so stupid as to think that the name "THE WIFILCON AND THE WINTER ROUTER" was a good name.
- "my god Sam, you're such an asshole!"-
-"HEY! That's a great name!"- Sam responds with as much indignation as possible, he's the best at naming everything from dogs to wifis.
- "I can't believe you're Captain America, I can't believe we're even friends"- Bucky really can't understand his luck to have friends, well, co-workers whatever.
- "Well excuse me but we're co-workers..."-
- "Well, take this call as my formal resignation, bye"-
-"Wait a minute Buck..."- Bucky ended the call, to finish -his self-imposed- punishment of listening to Sam Wilson talk for over an hour. At least I asked him how to use the bank's website to pay for the internet. Suddenly, without warning and without explanation, the memory of his neighbor is lodged in his head, her hair in a ponytail, her reading glasses, pink shorts, her sweater from some university of which he can't even remember the name because he was watching out for other things... that she wouldn't kill me obviously, he was watching out that she wouldn't pull a knife out of her back and kill me right there. The message on his laptop indicating that he can now set a new name and password to his wifi distracts him enough to stop thinking about his sweet and cute non-spy neighbor and how she would look with her hair down and her glasses off.
Still with the sweet feeling in his chest and the desire to see her again he writes as the new name of the wifi, while laughing:
"If you want free internet, you owe me at least one free dinner"
After paying the internet debt and closing the laptop, Bucky gets up hoping to find something edible in the kitchen, while leaning over to look inside his fridge and analyzing how bad it would be to eat a fried egg with pasta and sriracha, he hears again a knock on the door, but this time it does not cause Bucky the anguish and anxiety that caused him the first time, but quite the opposite.
-"Open the door Winter Router! I prepared chicken pot pie for dinner"-.
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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years
Text
Complicated
Fking finally lol. I’ve had absolutely no motivation to read or write these last few days, but I finally started this last night and finished it now. Here’s Day 15--a bad day, and part 3 of the mini-series i have going for this month.
Part 1  Part 2
cw: none that i can think of, but if theres anything, pls dont hesitate to let me know!
1.5k words
enjoy!! :)
Aelin had been sitting in her car for the last twenty minutes, staring at the motel door. She had no idea what she was going to say to Sam, but she knew she had to say something.
Something like, “I'm sorry that your biological daughter calls another man daddy and papa.” Maybe Aelin should have put a stop to it once Olive had started calling Rowan that, but hearing Olive say daddy in her tiny voice with a wide smile on her face made Aelin's heart flutter, and the sweet look of joy when Rowan heard her say it made Aelin think that it wouldn't be too bad.
She had got caught up in the fantasy of it all, but it was hard not to be sucked down into. She still loved Rowan and they had been dating seriously for the last six months. They had been friends for five months after she saw him at the nursery, and things had been going so damned well. Rowan and Egan had moved into Aelin's place two months ago—the four bedroom house previously owned by Aelin's parents before they moved into a small home—and she got along fantastically with Egan; he had a bit more of an understanding that Aelin wasn't his biological mother, since Rowan still had the photos of Lyria during the pregnancy, and she was determined to never replace Lyria, but when he called her 'ma' or 'Lin', her face would break into a smile so big she thought that it would be a permanent fixture on her face.
Aelin wasn't stupid, however, she knew that people thought that she and Rowan were moving too fast—namely her parents and Aedion, but when she and Rowan talked about the future, it felt solid, like it wasn't just a fanciful notion, but something real that was only a few steps away from being able to hold in her hands.
She had never been with someone that was so loyal to her, someone that cared for her in the way that Rowan did. That looked past her outer beauty and saw Aelin for who she was, and encouraged her to go for what made her happy.
It wasn't always perfect, they had arguments for time to time, but they worked it out, and that had shocked Aelin at first, that Rowan actually wanted to work together to fix the issue, that he actually communicated instead of just letting the arguments fade away. It wasn't like that at all with Chaol, part of the reason why their relationship crashed and burned.
So she hardly thought twice about what it meant to have Olive call Rowan 'daddy', that to Aelin, she was just building a family and a future, but she was starkly reminded that her boyfriend indeed was not her daughters father when Olive called Rowan 'papa' in the middle of the lunch that Sam was invited to at their place and the silence that had descended between the three adults.
Aelin almost choked on the pizza that she was in the middle of inhaling when Olive said that, her daughter sitting on Rowan's lap because she had been fussy and didn't want to sit in her booster seat. Olive and Egan were blissfully unaware of the awkwardness that was emanating from Aelin, the brown haired boy paying attention only to the TV that was playing his favourite cartoon, and Olive had simply wanted more of Rowan's attention.
Aelin glanced at Sam and found that the look in his eyes was utterly unreadable, which was unusual since Sam was easy to read, but for the first time in the years that Aelin knew him, she had no idea how to decipher his expression.
Rowan had opened his mouth, to say what Aelin wasn't sure, when Sam waved him off, and resumed the conversation revolving around the classic car that Rowan was fixing in his rare free time. So Rowan, knowing that it wasn't the right place to have that conversation, continued where he left off before Olive uttered that word that had never felt wrong before but suddenly left Aelin wanting to sink into the floor.
And when Sam had left after lunch, Aelin had decided that temporarily avoiding the topic was the best move, and after helping Rowan clear the table, Aelin had given Olive a quick bath in order to think about anything else.
All Aelin had been able to think about was what if somehow, by letting Olive calling Rowan her dad, she had doomed her daughter into developing daddy issues, that she would grow up confused on how to feel about her biological father when all her life she had called another man dad.
Aelin banged her head against the steering wheel, wondering how a good, decent day had gone to a complicated mess in a matter of hours.
She stayed there for a while, until she realised that she needed to be the adult she was and left the car, knocking loudly on the white motel door.
The door flew open and Aelin was greeted by Sam, a small smile on his face. “I was wondering how long you were going to sit out there for.” Having no idea what to say to that, Aelin stayed silent and went inside when Sam invited her in.
Aelin worried at her lip, and sat at the tiny table by the TV. She truly had no idea what to say.
Sam sat across from her and took her hands in his. Aelin looked up and found nothing but openness in his warm brown eyes. “I'm not mad, if that's what you're thinking.”
Aelin blinked at him. While Sam wasn't a violent man, she wasn't expecting that. “How?” she managed to get out after a moment. “How could you not be mad? Your daughter is calling another man 'papa'.”
“I'm hardly Olive's father, Aelin, I'm aware that I'm not the most active dad, I've seen her only a handful of times since her birth and she's nearly two. It's clear that Rowan loves her, and that she loves him. I actually saw all four of you earlier today, at the park,” Sam added. “I was feeling nervous, like I always do before I see Olive, so I went to the park to have my breakfast. I heard your laugh and I turned, ready to call out to you, when I saw that you were having a picnic and I realised that you already had a family, that Rowan and Egan are your family, and that Rowan is Olive's father in the way that counts, in the way that matters, and that I'm just an intruder in your lives.”
Gripping his hands, Aelin shook her head. “Sam, you can't think like that, you're not an intruder. You're Olive's biological father, you're important.”
“And I'll always be grateful that I had a hand in creating her, but Aelin, I want you to look inside yourself and tell me truthfully, in ten years time, who do you see by your side, Olive's side? Because I know that it isn't me.” And it wasn't, Aelin didn't to look inside herself to know that. She was already thinking deeply about her future long before Sam's visit.
“I want you to know though,” Aelin said abruptly, “that I didn't deliberately set out to have Olive see Rowan as her father, that I did talk about you from time to time, but I-I don't think that she could make the connection that the voice on the end of the phone belongs to you. But I promise that if see ever asks about you, I'll tell her, I won't hide anything from her.”
“I know that you will,” Sam said, “just maybe tell her in a nice way that she's the result of a broken condom.”
Aelin laughed, feeling light for the first time since this whole thing started. “I will. Although I think I'll have to consult Google for that.”
Sam nodded, because even he knew that there were no books that could help with that conversation. “But if she never asks about me, then don't tell her.”
“Sam—”
“If Olive wants to believe for the rest of her life that Rowan is her biological father, then I'm okay with that. I'd rather her be happy than confused. Because when I heard Olive call Rowan 'papa', it felt right, like it made sense. And I know that's how you feel, too. And I know it makes no sense, but Olive somehow just looks like she's Rowan's daughter, you know? And I don't want to get in the way of that.”
Sam was far too nice for his own good. People as kind as him were hard to find. It was a miracle that in this life that she had met two men like that.
Aelin wiped at her eyes, the tears falling suddenly and fast. “How are you so nice when your father is a piece of shit?”
Sam snorted and handed her a tissue. “Years of therapy.” He took a deep breath, and in his brown eyes, the eyes that she had once fallen for so deeply, Aelin saw acceptance. “There's also something else...I was doing some soul searching before you came over, and I...I know that I'm not on the birth certificate and that I don't really have a say—”
“Sam, of course you have a say. Like I said earlier, you're Olive's biological father. You might not be on the birth certificate, but if you have opinions, then you can share them with me, I won't bite your head off.”
Sam gave her a tiny smile. “And I appreciate that, I do. But what I was going to say is this: if ever in the future Rowan wants to adopt Olive, then you and he have my blessing.”
Aelin stared at him for a long moment, letting the words sink in, and then the tears started again and Aelin's body shook with the force of her sobs. Because if Sam's father wasn't Arobynn, then she would have had the family that Sam was wholeheartedly accepting that she had with Rowan. And that he was willing to stand aside to let Olive have the father that she deserved.
Sam came over to her, hugging her to him as Aelin sobbed into his shoulder, running his hand up and down her back. Aelin had never let herself cry like this in front of him, she never really liked crying like that, but she couldn't help herself and couldn't stop herself for a long while. It was a good ten minutes later when the tears slowly subsided and Sam slowly pulled back, giving her a once over with his kind eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Aelin said, loudly blowing her nose with a handful of tissues. “I just...I wasn't sure what I was expecting to happen here tonight. Never did I think that you would offer something like that, Sam.”
“I would be just like Arobynn if I forced you to be unhappy, and I never want to be like him.”
“You're not,” Aelin said, “you'll never be like him. I hope one day, Sam, you'll be able to have a family of your own.”
Sam kissed her cheek, the gesture sending her back to when they were teenagers. “I hope so, too.”
Aelin stayed for a little while longer, just talking and reminiscing about the old times. And when she went home, she kissed him on the cheek, thanked him again, and told him that he would always have a special place in her heart, because without him, she wouldn't have Olive.
Sam repeated the sentiment, and wished her nothing but happiness with Rowan, and that he was glad she found him.
Aelin was glad she found Rowan, too.
X X X X X X
Aelin walked into her house, and was greeted by two ecstatic children, acting like they hadn't seen her for years. Aelin smiled and gave them their hugs that they desperately wanted. She went over to the kitchen counter where Rowan was preparing dinner—grilled cheese, that she knew very well had veggies hidden within, because Egan acted like vegetables were the world's most evil thing to exist—and kissed him on the cheek. He kissed her temple in response, and Aelin breathed in the homely scent of him.
“How did everything go with Sam?” he asked, moving about the kitchen to start the side salad.
“Great, and there's something very important that I have to tell you.” Rowan raised a silver brow, but Aelin kissed his cheek again and promised to tell him later.
X X X X X X
Aelin was more than ready to climb into bed and fall asleep, but she needed to tell Rowan about her conversation with Sam, so when they got settled and comfortable, Aelin told him what her ex-partner said.
Rowan was stunned for a moment, and she hadn't even told him the best part. “Truthfully, I was mentally preparing myself for Sam to punch me in the face after lunch, but to hear what he said to you, I feel like a fool for ever thinking that he would resort to that.”
“If he was more like his father, he definitely would have. But Sam is the polar opposite of Arobynn, and truly wants nothing more than for people to be happy.” Rowan smiled and took Aelin's hand in his, and Aelin relished in the comforting touch. “And there's something else,” Aelin added, and it was ridiculous, but a tiny part of her was nervous, that told her that Rowan wouldn't want Sam's blessing, that he wouldn't want to legally be Olive's father. “Sam told me that if you ever wanted to adopt Olive, then you have his blessing, because he wants nothing more than for Olive to be loved and cared for, and he sees that you're the one that can help provide her with that.”
Rowan looked at Aelin, and her own eyes watered when she saw that his were filling up. “I would be honoured to do that, Aelin. It would make me the happiest man in the world to have that privilege. And after we're married, we can start the process, and maybe one day, when Egan's a little older and he has a better understanding, you can adopt him too, because I know you like him just as much as I love Olive.”
“I do,” Aelin said, choking up. “That would be—” Aelin stopped, her mind finally catching up with what he just said. “Did you just propose to me?”
Rowan cracked a smile and kissed her. He pulled away just so, their noses touching. “Not yet, I haven't found the right ring.”
Aelin laughed joyfully, even as her tears overflowed. “Just to let you know, I'm not helping you out this time. You'll have to figure it out on your own.”
Rowan kissed her again and again. “Don't worry, I've already got a few choices in mind.”
“Good. Make sure its sparkles.”
“I will,” Rowan said, and took her into his arms.
It wasn't too bad of a day, after all.
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Text
Hayloft p.3
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Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader
Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)
Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though)
Word Count: 5.0k
A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took to publish! Work and school have been CRAZY!
Citation: (This is absolutely cited incorrectly but the poem included was found at this link!) https://rememberingthesixties.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/love-poems
Read the Previous Chapters!
Part 1  Part 2
_________________________________
“No! No! No! I ain’t got time for this today!” You groaned, twisting your key in the ignition only to hear the engine struggle to turn over. You were already running late to work, thanks to you misplacing your shoes, purse, and keys all on the same morning. When it was really only just you, your dad, and Arvin living in your home, it was ridiculous to be losing things as often as you did. It’s not like they were touching them. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was some gremlin that lived in the linen closet and hid your things to make life more difficult.
Of course, your car wouldn’t work either. What a fantastic beginning to the day.
You weren’t even sure what could be wrong with the car. It had worked just fine yesterday. There was no reason for it to suddenly fall apart on you. But alas, after several minutes of trying to start the car and checking what basic things you knew about under the hood to no avail, you gave out a groan of anger, “Damnit!”
With an angry kick of your old tire, you stomped back into the house. “Everythin' okay?” Arvin asked from the dining room table, where he sat eating a plate of toast and eggs.
“I was already running late this morning and now my stupid car won’t start,” you grumbled, throwing your purse onto the open chair and taking the phone off the receiver on the wall with more aggression than you intended. You were spinning the dial and putting in the phone number to the diner you worked at.
Arvin leaned forward in his seat, “I can take a look at it for you, if you’d like.”
“That would be great if you’re willing to but-” You began to answer but you stopped abruptly and held up a finger to him when a voice answered on the phone.
“Molly’s Diner. How can I help ya?” A woman’s voice that you recognized as your coworker Charlene asked from the other side.
“Hey, Charlene?” You asked, shooting Arvin an apologetic look for the sudden interruption. She sounded surprised to hear your greeting on the other end.
“Where you at, girl?” She questioned, the ambient wound of the busy diner in the background.
You leaned against the wall, gripping the phone with both hands, “I know I’m late! I’m sorry! My car broke down and I don’t think I can make it-”
“I can give you a ride if you need.” Arvin offered quiet enough for Charlene to not hear him on the other end but you perked up.
“Wait, hang on-” You interrupted Charlene just as she began to respond, “I can actually get a ride in.” You mouthed a sincere thank you to Arvin while holding onto the phone with both hands, feeling a slight glimmer of hope in your otherwise crappy day.
“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. You’re already so late just take the day off and get your car fixed. Just be here tomorrow, alright?” You could almost hear the way Charlene’s hand was waving dismissively from the other end of the phone.
You sighed in relief, “Thank you so much. I’ll make it up to you!” After a few brief goodbyes, you hung the phone up on the receiver.
Arvin stood up and placed his plate in the sink, “So are you needin’ a ride to work?”
You shook your head, “No, Charlene said to just take the day off ‘n get the car fixed. Thank you, though. It really is sweet of you to offer.”
Arvin only shrugged, “C’mon, after all you done for me, givin’ you a ride into town really ain’t much at all. I’d still be more than happy to take a look under your hood if you’d like.”
You blushed and tried to suppress the immature giggles that threatened to slip out at the way he worded his offer. His face visibly paled and began to stumble over his words, “‘m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that! I didn’t mean take a look under your… erm. I ain’t too good with my words sometimes. Forgive me.”
You laughed outright now, stepping forward and trying to pull his nervously fidgeting arms down, “It’s okay! You’re fine! You’re fine! I would love it if you looked under my hood.” You teased, overexaggerating the way you emphasized his words, throwing them back at him.
He rolled his eyes at you, an embarrassed smile pulling the corner of his lips upwards, before looking back down at you. It was then that you realized just how close you and Arvin were, your fingers still loosely touching his forearms where they had fallen. You looked up into his eyes - those soulful brown eyes - and found yourself wanting to know everything that they’d seen.
That familiar heat rose to your cheeks and you pulled your hands back, running them up and down the white apron you wore over teal uniform, “Well, um, I’m gonna go get changed outta this if I ain’t gotta wear it for work and then I can help you out with the car?”
Arvin’s hands found their way to his pockets and he nodded in understanding.
You had changed into a pair of jeans with a buttoned up blouse before jogging out front to find Arvin already bent over the exposed inner workings of your car. “How’s it lookin’?” You asked, slowing to a pace until you reached the car. You landed beside him, hands falling on the dirty metal as you leaned over to see the mechanics. He fiddled with a few things here and there, things that you didn’t quite understand. You were good with the basics of fixing your car. You could change the oil and fix a flat but when it came to the more complicated stuff, you were a little less well-versed.
He leaned back and wiped his greasy hands on each other, “I think I have the problem pinpointed. ‘M gonna need to head into town and get a part but it’s not a hard fix at all.”
“Thank you so much for doin’ this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You took a few steps back as Arvin lowered the hood, letting it fall the last few inches with a heavy thud.
“Yeah, well I’m happy I can finally be some help ‘round here to you.”
You rolled your eyes, following Arvin back to the house, “Please, you are plenty of help ‘round here. More help than I’ve gotten in years.”
Arvin gave you a knowing tight-lipped smile and nodded once the two of you made it through the front door. He didn’t say anything for a moment but there was a silent understanding. “You need anything while I’m out?” He asked, changing the subject.
You shook your head, “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”
It was rare that you actually had time to yourself. While Arvin was gone, you found yourself wandering around confused for a short while until the buzzing silence wore on your ears. You sat on the couch and pulled the radio over closer to you on the coffee table, looking over your shoulder as if someone would catch you at any moment.
This was one of your secrets that you held close to you, knowing your father would make fun of you if he ever found out. Moon River had been a favorite radio program of yours since you discovered it while tuning through the stations a year back. It was full of romantic poetry and slow beautiful music. Everything you dreamt about but knew you could never have, not while you were stuck here at least. But a girl could dream.
“Tonight’s love poem is written by Betty Hayes Albright. We hope you enjoy.
They tell me not to write of love
but what else can I write –
when love is in my heart and soul
and mind both day and night?
“You’re just too young and you can’t know
of love,” (does anyone?)
“you can’t profess such knowledge –
stick to verse and pun.”
.
They tell me that, and say love poems
are worn out through and through
but I can’t agree with them,
for me love is brand new.
Feelings in me can’t stay down,
my love for him I can’t ignore,
somehow it’s got to be expressed,
“I’ve got no lock upon my door.”
.
To those who stick to subjects
of the sky and stars, of joy and pain
I write my poems of love because
my heart’s love-blood shall never drain.
Perhaps they too shall love again.”
You sighed as it came to an end and you couldn’t help but see Arvin’s face in your mind’s eye. Love had always felt like something you could only dream of. It was a “one day when I get out of here” thought, not something you saw yourself obtaining for a long time, if ever. Now with Arvin… well you weren’t sure if you could call it love but it sure as hell was the closest thing to it you’d experienced.
Since the words were spoken, they kept swirling around your head: “When love is in my heart and soul; and mind both day and night.” Since his arrival two months ago, Arvin had been that very subject on your mind almost constantly. He was the first face you hoped to see every morning and the last one you wanted to see before bed. Your entire mood lit up every time he walked into the room, even when you were stressed from work or your father. It hadn’t been hard for you to realize that he became the lighthouse in the rocky ocean, promising solace and providing light in the storm that could be your life at times. It was hard to not fall for that.
"Never heard that one before." You whipped around in a panicked start to see Arvin standing in the foyer. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."
You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ears, "No, no, you're fine. You read a lot of poetry?" You watched Arvin shake his head and walk into the room. He stopped on the other side of the couch and you climbed up, placing your knees on the cushions and leaning over the back of the couch to look up at him.
"I don't like poetry all that much, at least the ones we read in high school… but I like that one." He looked down at where his hand gripped the back of the couch and his weight shifted on his feet.
Your eyes fell to his hands in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up on your cheeks that really had no place being there. "Yeah… me too. It reminds me that there is real love out there in the world."
A silence settled over the room as your eyes anxiously dragged up Arvin’s body till they settled on his eyes but you found yourself unable to hold his gaze. "I, erm, I got the part I need for your car." He took a step back and lifted the hand that wasn't on the couch, tossing the metal mechanism in his hand.
"Oh," you pressed yourself away from the couch and moved back to stand, "thank you for runnin’ all the way out into town."
He gave you a small smile and a nod, “It’s my pleasure. I’m gonna go see if this fixes the problem.”
***
"That should be it," Arvin slammed the hood back down and wiped his hands on his jeans. "We should take her for a drive to see if she's runnin' alright now."
You nodded, "Alright. Hop in." You took the keys from your pocket and gestured to the passenger seat. Arvin climbed in and you slid into the driver's seat, turning the key. This time, the engine started up without a problem. A big smile spread across your face, "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"
Arvin shook his head, "I ain't no miracle worker. Just good with fixin' things I s'pose."
Your feet were on the brake and the clutch when you shifted into first gear and began to peel out down the long dirt driveway. You stopped at the road and looked both ways, trying to decide which way to go. You looked to your right, the road into town, and then to the left, the way to that field that was oh so special to you. You began to gnaw at your lower lip.
Did you want to show Arvin? That little clearing by the creek had been your secret getaway since you’d discovered it three years ago. You never told anybody about it and you’d never seen anyone else there when you went so, as far as you were concerned, it was yours. Your special hide away, your paradise, your escape. But since his arrival, Arvin had become just that as well.
“You alright?” He questioned, looking over at you with a vaguely concerned expression.
You looked over at him, a nervous twist to your lips, “Can I show you somewhere special?” Perhaps it was an odd question to ask, though you hadn’t thought it was until you saw the curious and somewhat confused look dawn on Arvin’s face. Nevertheless, he nodded and, with a smile, you turned left towards the field.
It was a short but otherwise successful, trouble-free drive. You slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road into the dirt shoulder. “Where are we?” Arvin asked, looking around and seeing nothing but tall grass and trees.
With an impish smile, you turned off the ignition and looked towards him, “You’ll see. C’mon!” You threw your door open and walked around the front of the car towards the passenger’s side, hanging on the passenger door when Arvin finally opened the door to exit the vehicle.
He followed you to the edge of the brush where you walked as if you knew it like home. With minimal effort, you found the overgrown path and pulled him along behind you. The road disappeared behind the two of you as you wandered beyond the tree line, tall birch trees creating a maze that you knew by heart. The path was short and you navigated it with a sixth sense until you led Arvin to a small field. There was an imperfect circle of wild grasses beside a stream that seemingly appeared from nowhere but you knew it was that time of year when the snow started melting off the mountains. Bundles of wildflowers grew mixed in the grass. Just along the bank of the crystal clear creek water was a large dogwood tree with vibrant white flowers.
“Wow…” Arvin breathed out in amazement as he tried to take in the beauty of the place.
“Pretty, ain’t it?” You asked with a smile, the wonder in his brown eyes warming your heart. You were glad that he seemed to appreciate it as much as you did.
You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as your heart welled with happiness at his stunned reaction. He stepped in a slow circle, taking in the beautiful scenery. “It’s beautiful.”
“This is sorta my… escape from reality, I guess you could call it. I come here and I’m suddenly in a different world away from all the bullshit of life.” You reached down to run your fingers through the soft blades of grass. Arvin smirked and you looked up at him with a short breathy laugh, “What?”
He shook his head and looked down, hands buried in his pockets as always, “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you curse.”
You rolled your eyes, “I don’t do it very often. My daddy would always yell at me tellin’ me how un-ladylike it was to say bad words. Told me it made me sound ugly. I think his exact words were ‘a dirty mouth makes a dirty woman.’” Your voice dropped to mock your father.
Arvin spoke plainly, “Your pa needs to treat you better.”
You gave him a sad knowing smile and looked down at the ground, “It wasn’t always like this, y’know? I think that’s the saddest part.”
“What you mean?” Arvin asked.
You sat down on the grass, feeling the soft blades press against your skin as you sat back on your hands. Arvin followed suit, finding a comfortable spot beside you and waiting for you to continue. “When my momma was alive, he hardly ever drank. Wasn’t nothing like he is now. I think that’s the only reason I’ve put up with as much as I have. I hate seeing this miserable shell of the man I once knew but I also know that a real father wouldn’t have let himself fall into this pit - or at least stay down there long enough to practically leave his daughter to fend for herself. I just always hoped that maybe one day he’d pull through and… y’know… be my dad again.”
You laid back on the ground and stared up at the sky. The clouds passed by, white and weightless, pure and unaffected by the troubles of this world. You envied them. The way they floated along, either bringing shade and beauty to the sky or raging unapologetic storms, with no constraints as to where they could float and how they could behave… it made you wish you could be a cloud.
Arvin was silent, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to offer words of support and encouragement but he never had been too good with words. He hadn’t really been taught to talk about problems. His daddy had taught him to finish them with his fists. Finally, he sighed, looking out across the field, “I understand. I felt the same way ‘bout my daddy.”
You perched up on your elbows, “Really?”
He nodded and looked down at his leg, which he was slowly rolling side to side just to keep fidgeting in some way, “Yeah… he, uh, he changed into a totally different man after my mama died.”
You looked up at him but you could see he was trying to avoid your eyes. You rested a gentle hand on his knee, “‘M sorry, Arvin. I had no idea.”
He shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. It’s been a long time.”
“D-do you mind if I ask what happened?” You cautiously inquired but quickly added, “Of course, it’s fine if not. You just… you don’t talk much ‘bout yourself.”
Arvin took a deep breath in, “My mama died when I was ‘bout ten. Cancer took her. My daddy tried everythin’ to keep her alive but when it didn’t work… he killed ‘imself too.”
This time you were unsure of how to respond, stunned by the new information you’d just learned. “I-I’m so sorry,” you breathed out in disbelief. For some reason, you had never thought that perhaps Arvin could have had a similar childhood experience to you, like losing your mothers, but your heart went out to him.
“It took a long time for me to understand why he did what he did but I finally realized that he just loved my mama so much that he couldn’t bear to be away from her.”
“He should’ve loved you enough to stay for you.” Before you could stop yourself, the stunning but honest words slipped from your lips. You damn near stopped breathing when you realized what you said, “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s alright.” Arvin had been stunned by the words that came out of your mouth but he knew damn well they were only a vocalization of a thought he had had almost every day since the day his father put a bullet in his head. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t thought the same thing before.”
A heavy silence weighed over the two of you that was only relieved by a cool breeze. “So what happened to your mama?” Arvin asked.
Your face twisted, “Labor complications. She was pregnant with my little sister. When she went into labor, things just went really wrong. She lost too much blood ‘n died. The baby died too. I think it was just too much loss at once for my daddy to handle.”
“That’s too much loss to make a child deal with on her own,” Arvin commented the same way you had earlier.
You shrugged, wavering your head from side to side. Like he’d said, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same thought. “Looks like we got a lot in common.” You chuckled sadly, “I feel like I lost everyone who ever loved me. My mom, my sister, my grandparents, my dad...” Another silence settled and you waved the thought away, pushing yourself to sit up, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to make this all sad.”
Arvin shook his head, “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for.” He paused, hesitant to continue. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what happened back in Coal Creek and Knockemstiff but something was strongly compelling him to. Maybe it was a bad idea to continue but he did, “I had a sister once too.”
Your mouth fell slightly in surprise and you let out a heavy breath, “You did?” The use of the words had and did instead are have and do were not lost on you and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.
Arvin swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah… she, uh, she got into some trouble with this no good preacher that came into town. She was just so lonely, reminds me a lot o' you, but when he saw that and he took advantage of her. Took everythin’ he wanted and when she got into trouble he just told her she was crazy.” He paused for a moment, the memories of his sister flowing through his head, “Found her hangin’ in the shed.”
You were dumbfounded by the story you’d just been told. Anger and sadness were clear in Arvin’s voice despite his attempt to hold on, though you had a feeling that just the way he had been telling you about it meant that he had shared more of himself than he ever intended to . You struggled to wrap your brain around the tragedy he had just shared. “What’s her name?” You finally asked after a few moments of silence.
Arvin looked out across the field again and then back at you, “Lenora.”
“Lenora,” you repeated, “That’s a pretty name.” Arvin only nodded wordlessly. Again, another pause before you continued, “You said it was some preacher that got her in trouble? What happened with that? I mean, you knew? Didn’t anyone else? Is he in jail or somethin’?”
The man tensed up next to you and shot a look towards you that was sharper than one he’d ever given you before. You shrank back ever so slightly, taken off guard by his response to your seemingly simple question. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”
“Ain’t nobody woulda believed my Lenora if she told ‘em. You know how people see women who got babies ‘n no husband. Especially since he was the preacher…” he trailed off and you were desperate to see the memories that played behind his big brown eyes, “He ain’t gonna hurt nobody no more.”
Your brows knitted together, trying to decipher what that meant. Did he go to jail? Was he fired? Was his reputation ruined? You prayed whatever justice he got was fit for something so atrocious.
"I'm sorry you lost your sister."
"I'm sorry you lost yours too."
After a long silence, Arvin laid back beside you, his body grazing your arm as he lowered himself. The two of you rested beside each other in this new understanding of each other. As you struggled to keep your attention on the sky, your eyes frequently straying from the vast blue expanse overhead to the beautiful man to your right, you couldn't help but wonder if by some insane fantasy maybe he'd be struggling to keep his eyes off of you in the same way.
"Let's talk about somethin' less depressing," you prompted, "How 'bout girlfriends? You ever had one of those?"
Arvin’s chest rose and fell heavily as he sighed, "I ain't never had much time for a girlfriend. Didn't much like anybody in my hometown anyways. Don't think nobody liked me much neither."
You rolled your eyes and audibly scoffed, "I find it hard to believe you didn't have girls bangin' down your door for a date. You're tellin' me you ain't never went out on a single date?"
He shook his head, "Nope. I mean I kissed a girl or two back when I was younger but I never had no time for datin'. Always workin' or helpin' my grandma or keepin' Lenora safe."
You rolled over onto your side and looked down at him curiously, "Where you from anyways?"
Arvin was hesitant to answer, you could see it plain as day, though you couldn't figure why. Finally, he answered, "Lived with my mama and daddy in Knockemstiff but moved to Coal Creek with my grandma after they died."
Mentally, you wracked your mental map for any memory of those towns but found none. "I don't think I ever heard of those," you commented, lying back down.
Arvin stretched his arm up and readjusted his cap, "Not many people have unless you're from near there. Just some small towns you'd drive right through and never even notice. Knockemstiff is near Meade, Ohio."
"Oh!" You exclaimed in realization, "I heard of that one!" You giggled. You didn't live anywhere near there but you'd heard the name at least from a friend whose family was from Meade.
"What about you?" He asked.
You began tracing light patterns on your stomach with your finger, "What about me? You know where I'm from."
"You ever had a boyfriend?"
You kept your eyes staring straight up. “I tried datin’ a few boys back in high school but nothing too serious. They didn’t seem to like me much,” you admitted with a shrug. At the time, it had bothered you a little that you seemed to have a hard time finding a boyfriend but now you saw that it was better this way. Younger you had spent night after night praying for a knight in shining armor that would come and whisk you away to some beautiful new life. All they had done was run for the hills because they didn’t want to deal with your daddy… not that you could blame them. You’d learned not to depend on anybody for anything, certainly not some boy to make your life better. You’d have to do that yourself.
“I think it would be impossible for somebody not to like you.” Arvin said quietly but with no ounce of dishonesty.
You rolled your eyes and rolled over to look at him, “Your just sayin’ that.” Despite the fact you swore to yourself he was only joking, blood rushed to your cheeks.
Arvin’s head turned in the crook of his arm to make eye contact with you, “I like you.”
The sweetly joking smile you had on your face fell in shock. “W-what?” You stuttered less than gracefully.
“I mean it. I like you… a lot.” After your pause, his heart fell but he didn’t need you knowing that, “You ain’t gotta say it back.”
“I like you too,” you admitted quickly before Arvin could continue to doubt himself anymore but when you looked over at him, you could see that momentary flash of doubt in his eyes. You could almost hear his thoughts behind those big brown orbs: Nah, you’re just sayin’ that. So you decided to beat him to it, “I really do.”
A warm breeze couldn’t dispel the thickness that had been created in the air between you two as you both looked at each other, trying to decipher what the other was thinking and what on Earth you were supposed to do next. Neither of you were well experienced when it came to love or romance or whatnot but experience wasn’t needed to feel some higher power, call it God or the universe, pulling the two of you together.
You weren’t quite sure when you and Arvin had started to inch your lips closer to each others’ but when they finally met in a gentle experimental kiss, it was as if fireworks had gone off. Your heart swelled with an emotion that could only be described as longing. Breathing stopped as if the feather-light touch of his lips on yours had knocked the air out of your lungs and you found yourself unable to catch it.
Both you and Arvin were hesitant to pull back and neither of you did until there was no air left in your lungs. It was one of those kisses that left you less. Breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Just less. And yet somehow more. A part of you that you had denied being empty for so long felt like it was now filled by Arvin and, perhaps that was too much credit to give for simply saying he liked you and sharing a mindblowing kiss with you, but damn.
“I-I-I uh…” You tried to stammer out something that would be fitting but there were no words.
“You ain’t gotta say nothin’.” Arvin reached over and gently brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “But I’ll be damned if I let you go without tellin’ you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
You reached up and covered his large hand with your own, twisting your wrist so that your fingers would interlock with his, “Who ever said you gotta let me go?
__________________
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mayansmcsblog · 3 years
Text
the prank war has began
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sooooo i saw this gif and instantly got an idea but as i wrote it, the idea completely changed and somehow it turned into this.
there is a ton of swearing😂
credit to @thedevilsmoonshine​​ for the gif!
thanks to @withmyteeth​ for helping me with some ideas of what to add in.
this is the first time I've wrote anything in years and the first time I'm ever publishing my work. sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes
A persistent ringing was what woke you up at 2am for the 3rd time this week. You already knew who it was, let's face it who else would be calling at 2am other than him? Opening your eyes you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling debating if you should let it ring out or answer
What if he’s hurt? No, that would have happened during the day not in the middle of the night Maybe he just needed someone to talk to? That was the likely option.
 You and bishop always had a ‘vibe’ as some people said. You were friends for a few months before he introduced you to the mc, of course it was a shock at first but after a month it slowly became your life. All the parties? you were there. Club events? You were there.
Overtime you and bishop had gotten closer, he would come over to your place all the time, announced or not.
he would come over in the dead of the night when his mind got too loud ,When he needed someone to talk to ,When he simply wanted the company of a friend that did not judge him for the things he did for the mc. He would come over any opportunity he got.
You could swear he was at your place more than he was his own Most of the time he would spend a few weeks at yours, only going back to his to get clothes.
Over the course of the last 6 months you and him had gotten a lot closer, he spent the night a lot, his stuff is all over the place but you two aren't dating , you didn't have any type of label. Why? You couldn't be sure. Most people assumed you two were dating but they were wrong. You two did everything normal couples would yet- you had no label. you were never his girlfriend and he was never your boyfriend.
Taking a deep breath you reached to your bedside table and grabbed your phone but as you could pick it up, it stopped ringing.
That’s not a bad thing right? Maybe he didn’t want to wake you up. Before you could set it back down you reserved a text, scrolling down your notification panel you read it;
📲: Bishop 🖤
You up?
Two words. That’s it just two short words.
Should you ignore it? Yeah, that's probably the best option. Did you want to ignore it? No
Another ping brought you out of your thoughts
📲:Bishop🖤
The guys are being children and I could either use some help over here or a way out😂please tell me you're awake and not just reading this from your notifications and watching Netflix again.
he knows you too well. Being a night owl you normally go to sleep around 3am, maybe 2am if you have work the next day. Normally you would just ignore bishop till the next morning but somehow he always knew when you ignored him and when you were actually sleeping.
Taking a look at your notifications again you saw you had a lot for snapchat, a  few from Coco, a few from Angel along with one single snap from Gilly.
Looks like the trio is having fun.
Opening bishop’s texts you finally reply;
📱: I’m awake just debating on if I should open all the snaps I have from the trio and reply to a seemingly annoyed jefe.
Almost immediately you got a response
📲:Bishop🖤
Ha-ha very funny. Come and sort your boys out, they are messing with that shitty ass car again, trying to do something with the engine
📱: my boys? You're their president, you sort them out. What makes you think they listen to me🤧?
📲: Bishop🖤
They actually like you😂they will listen
📱: keep telling yourself that, they only listen to me when I’m getting them food
📲:Bishop🖤
That counts as listening
📱: whatever
Locking your phone you got up out of bed knowing there was a slim chance you would go back to bed till the early hours now that you were awake. 
Putting on a pair of shorts and a shirt you got your phone and went to the kitchen, deciding to get on a bottle of water and find some shitty Netflix show you wouldn’t even pay attention to
Grabbing a bottle from the fridge you heard your phone vibrate on the counter. Pulling down the notification panel once again you saw it was a text from Ez
📲; smart ass😂📚
Please come and get these children, I can't deal with them anymore
Okay something is seriously going on here.
Face timing Ez you set the phone back on the counter, moving towards the window to open it and let the cool air flow thru the room
Within seconds he accepted and his voice came over the speakers
"Ayyy y/n where you at? Come get the children. Me and bishop are going crazy over here" you could hear a hint of playfulness in his voice 
Picking up your phone you saw he was sitting on the steps outside the club, his phone in his hand angled so you could just see the side of his head while he was looking at something in the distance. 
"I'm at home like all of you should be by now, leave the children alone to play. Are they hurting anyone?" you said as  you headed towards the front room and sat on the sofa
"Not yet"
You could hear cursing being thrown around by numerous people in the background along with the clacking on metal and rock music in the distance.
"Yet?" You questioned
"Yeah, I mean other than themselves" he laughed
"Of course"
There was a few beats of silence before you heard Coco shouting
"Boy Scout! Who’s that eh? You got you another girl?" By his tone you could tell he was definitely high
"No it's y/n dumbass" he responded, turning the phone so you could see Coco walking towards him.
"Ohhh damn I thought you was about to get some man" by now Coco had took over the whole screen "heyyyy y/n what you doinnnnn"
"I’m about to hang up on your dumbass"
"No, no, no don’t do that" taking the phone off Ez he stood up "that’s not nice is it"
You could hear Ez asking where he was going with his phone and be replied with a simple "shhhh" as he walked back to where he originally came from
"Want to see something funny?" He said. You weren't sure if that meant he was going to show you Angel tied to a chair again or Gilly attempting a backflip.
Both are amusing but it's doubtful it would happen three times....
"Did you tie Angel to a chair again? What did I tell you about playing nice hmm?" You put on the most sarcastic voice you could
"Ha funny and no...We couldn't find and ropes"
That made you laugh way more than it should have because you knew that Bishop had hid them in the meeting room and under Ez's trailor after the last time they guys got drunk and thought it was a good idea to put rope all over the place like an obstacle course
"Coco you're gonna kill someone at this rate”
"Hush ight? Jesus be quite ino want em to know your here"
"Okay?" Putting yourself on mute you could hear Angels voice in the background along with Gillys and bishops
"Listen," Angel said , slapping something metallic, clearly as high as Coco was and seemingly having one of his 'genius idea' moments
"OI dumbass listen to meeeee" he said again
"What?" Gilly responded along with a sound of something metal hitting the ground "dammit Angel you made me loose the fucking 10mm socket again"
The camera was still pointed at Coco’s shoulder as he walked over
"Boys, boys, boys" damn he sounded like a child "what would you say if I told you I could get y/n  to being us food"
You audible groaned as he suggested that, there was no way you was going to get them food this late at night.
You heard both Gilly and Angel say "what" then "tell her to get McDonalds" or "let’s get subway" by they were quickly cut off
"Oi children! Stop it, it's  2:30 in the morning, leave her alone '' bishops' voice was closer than you expected. He was probably sitting in the garage with the others observing what they are doing and making sure they don’t kill each other
You couldn’t help but unmute yourself
"Sorry Obispo but the children need their food" your tone was playful, kind of, half of you was saying it just to annoy him, the other half was wanting to see his reaction
"Gimme that phone" within seconds Coco was gone from the screen and Bishop was in the frame 
"So this is why you haven't replied to me hmm?" You couldn’t tell if he was serious or playful
You hadn't missed his text? He never responded to you right?
"Hold that thought" you pulled down the notification panel and saw he did text you.
2:15
📲:Bishop🖤
I’m kicking these guys out in a few minutes
2:20
📲: Bishop🖤
I’m giving them 3 more minutes till I kick them out.
2:23
📲: Bishop🖤
Can I come over if it's not too late after these children leave? "
"Oh, sorry I was busy talking to Ez and then being stolen by Coco" 
"Nah you were just ignoring me wasn’t you?" He responded
"No totally not"
"Sure I totally believe you" he laughed
"I think Ez might want his phone back"
"Wow, nice to see you like speaking to me"
"Well then why don't you call me instead? At least smart ass wanted to talk to me, even if it was about the children of the mc"
The line went silent for a moment. All you could hear was the guys cursing about finding the 10m socket and the sound of bishop walking.
"Okay, I’ll be back in like 20 minutes" with that the line went dead, he didn’t even give you time to respond
 Wow he deadass hung up on me, how mature.
Maybe it was time you opened those snaps. What else did you have to do?
Opening snap chat you saw there was a purple bubble next to Coco, a red bubble next to Angel and a blue bubble next to Gilly.
You opened Gilly's first
12:22~
"What time does McDonald’s close?"
Followed by
"Nvm its 24 hours isn’t it😂😂"
You quickly replied "dumbass" and moved onto Angel’s chat.
Opening the snap it was a picture of Coco, Gilly and creeper sitting opposite him, beers in hand, while seemingly talking along with the caption
"Come party with us"
Skipping past the snap you was presented with another one, this time a video where Coco was sitting on the roof of a car while Gilly was attempting to push it
"C’mon man it's not that hard" Coco said
"Yeah man come on" Angel said from behind the camera
"Shut up before I make you do this" Gilly responded
What the hell have these guys been up to all night?
The snaps just got worse from there. 
Coco’s was full of them doing random stuff, throwing things at each other and even them sitting on Ez trailer roof? How did they even get up there, and how did it not break?
One of them definitely stood out from the others. It seemed like someone else was filming on his phone while Coco was trying to rip off a car door by the handle but it snapped off, sending Coco across the garage and into the wall while Gilly, Ez and Angel laughed at him
His only response was a simple "okay you mother fucker this is war" followed by his practically running like a horse in battle towards the door kicking it resulting in a bent. Unfortunately that's where the snap ended.
Is this what they had been up to? No wonder bishop wanted out.
When the cascade of snaps finished you saw there was still a blue bubble next to Coco's name, clicking on it you could see it was a video around 3 minutes long. 
You saw part of it was what you had already seen. Coco trying to pull the door, being flung into a wall, the guys laughing along with Coco kicking the door once again except this time it didn’t end when he kicked the door.
"Bro you’re not doing it hard enough" Angel stated while moving Coco out of the way
"Look you gotta-" he kicked the base of the door "-start from the bottom-'' he kicked it again causing the bottom to cave in slightly "-see? It's easy"
"Shut up man I’m stronger than you let me do it" Coco pushed Angel out of the way
"No" Angel responded, pushing coco slightly
"Yes" Coco pushed back
"No" Angel pushed again
This went on for a few moments before Gilly set the camera down on some type of surface before walking over to them
"Yo I'm stronger then both of you let me do it"
Coco stopped pushing Angel and turned to Gilly "Nah man you will steal all the shit and run off again like last time"
"Shut up man"
All three of the men were too busy arguing to notice Ezekiel had come into the garage in search of something
"Why the fuck are you guys arguing?"
All of them spoke at the same time
"Coco is sayin he’s stronger than me"
"They are children!"
"Angels tryna be a smart ass"
"You guys are fucking stupid" Ez moved towards where the phone was but didn't pick it up, rather opening the draw of the desk that was below it and picking something up, as he pulled back you could see he was holding some keys.
"Move“ He pushed Angel out the way of the door and unlocked it, grabbing a duffle bag out of the back seat, handing it to Coco
"Here"
All of the guys stood in a state of shock. Coco was the first to speak
"Why the fuck didn’t you tell us there was keys!" He exclaimed
"Because watching you guys be idiots and is fun to see you struggle"
"I swear to God I’m going to say no on your patch vote" Gilly butted into the conversation.
Ez just laughed as he walked away, the video ended shortly after all three of them cussed.
Shaking your head you laughed, of course they are dumb enough not to look for keys.
You quickly texted Coco
"You guys are dumb as shirtttt, you’re lucky Ez is around to help your dumbass's. Did the door not want to play nice hmm? Did you put a dent in the wall again with your fat ass? What was so important in that bag?"
Checking the time you saw it was 2:45
Thank god it's a Saturday tomorrow.
Setting your phone on the coffee table you realized you never put the TV on when you sat down, you were obviously too distanced by FaceTime, meaning you were sitting in silence.
Was silence a bad thing? No
Was it somehow deafening? Yeah
Grabbing the remote you turned on the TV, quickly going to Netflix in an attempt to find something decent to watch.
Your watch list was full of horror movies and crime documentaries. Definitely not the best thing to watch on your own. There were a few suspense movies on there but none of them seemed to interest you.
Going to the movie section you passed almost every more option from horror to romance to action because nothing grabbed your attention or seemed interesting.
Going back to the home page you looked at the screen for a few minutes
Was it even worth putting something on? It was almost 3am after all.
Grabbing your phone you decided to scroll through Instagram.
After a few minutes bishop’s name appeared, taking over your screen with an incoming FaceTime.
Accepting the call you were immediately greeted with the site of his kutte, followed by him putting his helmet on. By the angle you could tell his phone was resting between his handlebars and the fuel tank.
"I take it you're still awake then" he wasn’t looking at the screen. Rather he was looking in the distance just above his phone
The background suddenly filled with the sound of bike engines. He seemed to say something but it was overpowered by bikes, so you didn't hear what he said. His bike wasn’t turned on yet because the phone wasn't vibrating.
Suddenly Bishop reached his arm out to someone just out of frame and you saw him lift upwards off the seat slightly, someone’s hand patted his shoulder blade.
By the look of the tattoo on the wrist you could tell it was Coco.
Looking away from your phone you looked back up at the TV. You could still hear engines coming from your phone but now it sounded like 3 of them.
Almost simultaneously they all revved before pulling off. The sound slowly faded out as they got further out the compound.
You were still looking at the TV, you decided to look at the top 10 of the day, maybe there was something good on there.
The Meg
Reading the description it actually seemed like a good movie. Putting it on you set the remote down and looked back at your phone
This time bishop wasn’t in the frame at all. Rather you could just see the length of his bike and the wall behind where it was parked.
Where did he go?
Your question was quickly answered when he picked up the phone.
By the sound of the wind you could tell he was jogging somewhere. The phone was at his side facing outwards, you could see him approaching the steps to the clubhouse. He quickly went up them and opened the door
"Prospect!" He shouted "make sure you lock up, I’m heading out"
You could hear Ez reply with a quick "okay" from somewhere in the back
He picked up his phone so you could see his face. unlike before, you took the time to actually take in his appearance 
His eyes looked tired, his beard was longer than it usually is, he looked...well, you couldn’t describe it. He just didn’t seem himself.
You were too busy looking at him to realize he asked you a question
"Y/n"
"What?"
"Did you not hear me?"
"Oh- no sorry I turned my volume down because of the bikes"
"Oh" he paused "I asked if your door was open"
You looked at the screen for a second
"What?"
He placed his phone back on the fuel tank and straddled his bike
"I said, is your door open. You know like your front door.....to your house" he repeated, grabbing his helmet, he must have taken it off while you were looking at the TV, once again he was fastening the buckle.
"No? Why?"
"Do you want to unlock it?" you could see him kick the stand of the bike up by the way his leg moved.
"Why?" You asked he looked at the screen for a few seconds before laughing at the way your face changed as you realized what he meant
"Obispo are you inviting yourself over once again?" You questioned
"Yep"
"What if I don't let you in?" You challenged. Of course you would let him in but sometimes it was fun to mess with him
"What if I climb through a window?" He said, pulling a cigarette out his pocket and lighting it
"Okay now that's just creepy" you laughed. He shook his head as he blew out the smoke from his lungs
"So? Can I come over or not?"
Looking around your front room you saw it was a little messy but you could easily clean it up within 5 minutes.
"Sure"
"See you in 20 querida" he winked as he started the bike before ending the call.
~
You finished cleaning the front room, kitchen and your bedroom up within 10 minutes
Checking the fridge you saw that there were only 4 beers left, taking a mental note to get more the next time you go shopping.
Sitting back on the sofa you realized you had missed around half of the movie.
Pointless watching it now
You knew by bishop coming over there was a good chance you two would be awake till 4am talking about random stuff and watching something on Netflix or playing some type of game.
You also knew he liked action movies so you went to that section in search of one that sounded entertaining 
The platform ~ that didn’t sound so bad right?
Watching the preview, you became interested and wanted to watch it, forget Bishop you can watch it on your own.
"The ones above, the ones below and the one before" the voice of a man came over your speakers, he sounded young but old simultaneously.
You had just got past the introduction when you heard the rumble of a bike in the distance. For a moment you wondered if it was off the TV but as it got louder you realized it was bishop.
Getting up from the sofa you walked towards the door.
You set your hand on the door handle for what seemed like hours as you waited for him to pull up outside. Did you normally meet him at the door? Nope. Most of the time he would invite himself over and just sit down on the sofa with you for hours.
Sometimes you two spoke the whole time he was over until you both went to bed, other times you would sit in a comfortable silence- just happy to me in one another's presence.
You heard the engine cut off just beyond the door. You counted to three before unlocking it, as you did you saw Bishop was parked on the curb, still sitting on his bike while setting the helmet on the handlebars. He was yet to notice you standing at the door.
Taking a cigarette out his pocket he turned towards the street, looking at the houses to see if your neighbor's were awake, you had no idea why he did it but every time he pulled up, whether it was in a car or on his bike he always seemed to look at the neighboring houses.
He lit the cigarette, back still turned to you as he looked down the street. Leaning against the door frame you looked him over you could see that his posture was slouched indicating he was tired, he still had one hand resting on the handlebars almost like he wasn't just looking down the street but also trying to crack his back. The other hand was on the cigarette in his mouth, even from the distance from the doorway to the curb where he parked. You could see his leg was bouncing and so was his hand slightly, now that definitely wasn't normal.
 As he exhaled the smoke he turned around towards your house, jumping slightly when he saw you standing at the door. He seemed to compose himself as he took the keys out of the bike and stood up, walking towards you, his head bowed slightly as he tossed the cigarette onto the food
“I hope you are going to pick that up” you said 
“I will” he looked up at you, he was just beyond the porch steps. His eyes looked tired, there were clearly bags underneath them. He was definitely tired- if you knew anything about him ,he probably hasn't slept for a few days, and if he did it was for a short time
“You look tired”
“So do you” he cracked a small smile, by now he was standing in front of you
“Maybe because someone woke me up at 2 in the morning then I had to deal with grown ass men asking me to bring them food then suddenly someone decided to invite themselves over?”
“In my defense i thought you were still awake and the children wasn't my fault” 
You laughed as you moved away from the door frame and towards the kitchen “just come i stupid before i lock you out”
“Ouch that's harsh” he put a hand over his heart “that insult really hurt” he walked threw the door and shut it behind him, hanging his kutte up on the coat hook in the hallway along with his jacket
“Stop being a wimp” 
You heard him move into the front room and sit on the couch.
“Want a beer?” you asked as you went in the fridge for another bottle of water
"Yeah- what's this?" He questioned
“What's what?”
”On the TV dumbass” 
Walking back into the front room you saw he had his hand behind his head, his phone was on the table along with his keys.
“Oh, the platform. It seemed interesting so I started watching and only someone distracted me” you said as you handed him the beer and sat on the sofa, leaving some space between you and him.
“What's it about?”
“Not too sure something along the lines of some type of prison system where the food is on a moving platform, I only just started it”
“Hmm” grabbing the remote he pressed play while sipping his beer.
You two sat in comfortable silence while watching the movie but every so often you would look over at bishop, partly to make sure he wasn't asleep and partly to see if he was okay.
Over the time span of 30 minutes you noticed he wasn't watching the movie, rather he was looking at the wall clearly spaced out somewhere in his own mind. He was sitting so his right elbow was on the arm rest and his right hand in his mustache, messing the hair lightly. He always did that when he was thinking about something. His other hand was resting in his lap holding the beer you gave him.
“Bishop?” you waited a few moments but he didn't respond “Bishop'' you repeated, still no reaction. Taking the beer from his hand you set it on the table, putting your hands on his cheeks you turned his face toward you “bishop”
“Hmm?” he finally looked at you. Removing your hands from his face you looked him in the eyes
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing” he said shaking his his head
“Don't lie to me” your tone came out harsher than you intended he raised his eyebrows at you
“sorry didn't mean to sound like i was being mean” you pulled away slightly with the intention of going back to where you originally sat but that idea was quickly thrown out the window when he grabbed your torso and practically picked you up, sitting you on his lap. He put his head in the space between your shoulder and neck while rubbing his hands down your back
“What's wrong Obispo?” you asked once again, putting your hand in his hair, playing with it slightly.
“I'm just stressed” his voice was muffled as he spoke into your shouder
“About?”
“Everything” he moved his head so he was looking up at you “the stuff with Marcus leaving, the mc as a whole with the guys turning against each other ,all the shit going on with other clubs. Everything is just a mess and it's stressing me out” he explained. You kept on hand playing with his hair while the other went to his cheek
“Can you do anything about it?” you asked, he cocked his head to the side slightly clearly not understanding what you meant ”can you do anything about that stuff?” he looked at you for a moment before shrugging his shoulders
you continued “Marcus made his own mind up, you can't do anything there. The mc always sorts itself out, members fight, it's normal, you of all people should know what.” you explained while using your thumb trace the lines across his face caused by the lack of sleep
“Yeah, i guess you're right” he leaned up and kissed you softly “I have to say, I'm a president of a fucking mc and yet your smarter then me”
“I'm not smarter than you, I just look at what's happening and think about in the moment, where as you” you poked his chest lightly “ seem to think its a good idea to overthink stuff and look at consequences a year in advance that will probably never happen” He hummed in response before putting his head back into your neck
“Can i ask you something?” you asked
“You just did”
“Very funny” you moved to get out of his lap but was quickie pulled back down
“What was the question?”
”What the hell was in the duffle bag? coco sent me the video them trying to get it and it seemed like they really wanted it”
“Oh” bishop almost immediately started laughing to the point his whole body shook and his head was thrown back.
“Tell me stoopid” you slapped his chest slightly, playing with his shirt
“Well you see- me and Ez thought it would be funny to lock it in a car that needed scraping while they were getting high and then tell them the doors didn't work to see how long it would take for them to it but Gilly ended up pushing it from the front by the fighting cage to the garage” he managed to get out
“That didn't answer my-”
“Just wait” he cut you off “neither me or Ez knew what was in it but those three are too stupid to just break a window so they were attempting to get it for a good 20 minutes before Ez opened the door and got it out” he explained still laughing slightly “turn out it was just full of junk food and snacks they brought to eat once they get hungry later ”
“You two are evil”
“No we was having fun” he laughed
“Evil”
Just as bishop was about the respond his phone started to ring, you moved out his lap and sat back on the couch while he get up and went out the back to answer it.
looking at the tv you realized the film wasn't interesting you at all. Grabbing you phone you saw you had a snap from coco and one from angel 
what did they do now?
opening the app you clicked on to yours and Angels chat only to find a simple text
“if coco send you a video, delete it”
what?
“why” you replied before swiping off the chat and going onto Coco's. inevitably you where present with a video and a chat 
“Pease, please watch this it will be the best favor you ever do for me 🙏🏽”
your curiosity got the better of you, clicking on the video you immediately recognized the place.it was Angels front room. Gilly was chuckling lowkey behind the camera while coco was next to the door on a stool with a bucket in his hands while laughing. The camera panned down to show Gilly holding a bag of flour, now you could only assume that the bucket was full of water 
surely this couldn't end good
within a few seconds the door opened and angel walked in, coco immediately reacted throwing the contents of the bucket on top of his head while Gilly threw the flour over him.
Angel immediately froze, his face going into a startled expression followed by on of anger. Shutting the door behind him he shook of the excess flour before locking the door.
Gilly and Coco where in hysterics as Angel turned towards Coco and lunged for him, coco had a quick reaction and ran towards the backdoor , only to find it locked 
“fuck” he cursed looking for ways to escape, looking at the kitchen window he seemed to weight out his chances. by now Angels attention had gone towards Gilly who was still stood in the same place laughing. Angel lunged for him, tackling him to the ground while coco grab the phone from Gillys hand and made a run for the kitchen.
There was a lot of laughing from Gilly and shuffling in the background along with Angel cussing him out , then there was a bunch of laughing from them both of them but you could make out Angel saying “you think that shits funny huh?” “watch me key your bike” “ I'm gonna get you back so hard man
suddenly the phone was tossed out the kitchen window, shortly after you could see coco's head and body slowly emerging from the kitchen window. after a few seconds he finally managed to crawl out. picking up the phone he began to jog down the front yard 
“ha bitchesss I'm freeeee!”he exclaimed “the one time being skinny pays off”
in the background you hear a door unlock followed by Angel shouting “run bitch cuz I'm fucking coming for you”
then the video cut off
you where sat on the sofa crying from laughing so hard you quickly saved the video and texted coco back
“that is the best thing I've seen in months😂”
just as you started to calm down you started to hear bishop laughing from outside the backdoor. almost imminently he walked threw the back door in hysterics 
“did you-did you see-” he could barely talk in-between laughing 
“did i see the video?” 
“yeah”
“yes i saw it” you laughed
taking his phone he turned it towards you, it was a FaceTime from angel covered in flour, his beard was a littler of loose flour and a clumpy mess of flour and water. you couldn't help by laugh at his serious expression
“not funny y/n” he said clearly angry. in the background you could hear Coco and Gilly laughing
“you watched the video didn't you” it wasn't a question rather a statement 
“yeah” you replied still laughing 
“fuck sakeeee” suddenly he cut the call of cause both you and bishop to laugh even harder
~~~~~~~~
so yh this was men to be a fluff with bishop but i got distracted and it just kind of turned into the start of a prank war between Coco, Angle and Gilly.
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A/N: Expect a part 2 soon!
Also if you’re interested in letter commission they’re open here!
* You’re probably in his house, a few years younger than him.
* He noticed you as this painfully shy thing, and didn’t really think much about you
* Just another shy kid, you would find your friends and be on your way in no time
* Still he can’t help but notice you
* Always quietly trailing behind the others on the way to class
* Maybe you’re just nervous? He heard you were muggle born
* So imagine when Cedric see’s you cheering the loudest on the quidditch stands for your house team.
* A massive grin on your face as he catches the snitch
* “Well that’s kinda cute”
* He always see’s you with your nose in a textbook, a slight crease between your eyebrows
* He wonders if he should go over and help
* “No, best to leave them to it” he tells himself
* You don’t talk much during meals, not unless you’re spoken to first
* And yet, you’re a friend to everyone
* Need some parchment? You’re already cutting yours in half. Dropped your ink? Here, they can have one of yours. Forgot your book? Don’t worry we can share!
* You’re so...
* Kind
* Your kindness radiates off of you like the heat of a summer day
* And before he knows it, Cedric is always looking for you.
* He knows all your favorite places, your favorite nook in the library to read, your spot at the hufflepuff table, the place in the back of the stands where you cheer for him.
* He’s only just worked up the nerve to talk to you, you’re in your favorite spot in the library when George Weasley beats him to it
* “Hey (Y/N), working on Snape’s assignment?”
* “Yeah, I’m really stumped on this part of the potion though.”
* “Oh, I remember that, the trick is in how you stir it. I know because Fred and I blew the thing up.”
* He hears you laugh
* Looks like he’s not the only one who’s noticed your kindness
* His face feels hot as he takes another glance back at the table
* You’re laughing at something George is saying, and George is grinning as he watches you
* And Cedric feels his heart squeeze a bit
* He’s never seen you laugh like that before, so open and free
* Well, he won’t ruin your fun, and he spins on his heal back to his friends
* “When did they even become friends” he mumbles to himself
* “What’s wrong?” George asks, but your eyes stay fixed on the golden boy who’s laughing at something his friend had said
* For a second- when you saw him coming this way- you hoped...
* “Nothing, do you remember this potion too?”
* After a month of hanging out with Fred and George your public profile is through the roof.
* Before you were practically invisible, but now everyone knows who you are.
* “They’re pretty cute aren’t they?” One of his friends says, gesturing to where you’re sitting with George and Fred in the courtyard
* Cedric sighs, he had started to think of you as his little secret
* But now everyone knows
* “Yeah they are.”
* He wants to approach you, he really does. But he feels awkward about it now
* He doesn’t want you to think he’s only talking to you now that you’re popular
* He’s wondering what the most organic way to approach you would be when you show up on the quidditch pitch for try outs
* All in your quidditch gear, strapping in your helmet
* Now nothing would delight Cedric more than to give you a spot on the team.
* You’re a hard worker and he knows that
* But he just doesn’t think you have what it takes to play
* So imagine his surprise when you execute all the drills perfectly, and your team even wins during the try outs
* He watches your team swarm around you, burying you in head pats and hugs, the smile on your face is absolutely bewitching
* “Looks like we found our keeper, huh?” Heidi Macavoy says, and Cedric only grins
* “I think we did.”
* Cedric makes sure he’s the one who personally tells you that you made the team
* “I’ve got some bad news-“ he’s teasing, and he almost feels bad when he see’s your face fall
* “Oh my god I didn’t make it did I?” Your face falls into your hands.
* You didn’t make it and they sent the golden boy, Cedric Diggory, himself as some sort of consolation prize
* “The bad news is...you’re going to have to start waking up pretty early on Saturdays to be at practice on time”
* Wait what?
* You slowly lift your head to see a bright yellow quidditch robe in your size
* The smile you have on your face is worth it.
* He’s thinking that smile is prize enough, so when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze him into a hug he stumbles back
* His arms hover for a second, before softly eating on your back
* “Thank you for the opportunity you won’t regret it!”
* You look at him with such wide shining eyes he can’t help but chuckle
* He pats your head
* “I’ll hold you to that”
* You don’t give him a chance to regret getting you on the team, let alone any of the others
* Always early to practice, always hanging back even when everyone’s left just to get a few minutes in.
* You’re a hard worker, he already knew that, but now it looks like everyone else is starting to know too
* “That (L/N)’s a real hard worker aren’t they?” Maxine asks casually as they’re walking to class
* Malcolm nods from beside her
* “Aye, I went out a few nights ago because I couldn’t sleep, thought might as well go for a run, they were on the pitch with the Weasley boys practicing blocking”
* Cedric sighs, another thing he’s going to have to learn to share
* “Yeah, they’re a really hard worker, kind too.”
* Malcom carries on with the conversation but Maxine doesn’t miss the glint in Cedric’s eye
* Ah, so he’s fond of you is he
* That’s a little weird considering Cedric could have a Veela girl, or literally a super model
* But he’s got a crush on you
* Shy, awkward, hard working, kind - you
* Well she gets it, she’s got a soft spot for you too
* Cedric sighs frustrated as he walks to his class
* He’s been playing quidditch with you for an entire term now
* But the two of you haven’t got any closer
* Maybe this is just the best he can hope for, a casual aquantince - it’s better than what he had before
* He shouldn’t be greedy
* But then the Draco Incident happens
* He’s not exactly sure what happened- he has not a single doubt that Draco I Instigated it somehow-
* But by the time he gets to the scene, his prefect badge glimmering
* “What’s going on here?”
* “The mud blood was about to attack me!” Draco snarls
* Cedric flinches at the word, in all 15 years of life Cedric’s never actually heard someone use that word
* But you don’t move an inch, your eyes narrowing into a glare
* “That’s rich coming from the weasel faced-inbred-derelict that was just threatening me” You snarl back
* Cedric has to cover his laugh with a cough
* He manages to get you out of the situation with only ten points taken from your house
* Little enough that no one in your house would hold a grudge against you, but size able enough so that no teacher would say he was playing favorites.
* “A weasel faced derelict” he whispers to himself
* Grinning as he watches the Weasley boys pull you into their fold
* Asking you what happened only for you to shake your head-
* He wants to know what happened too but
* His grin grows even wider
* Right now he’s just happy to have seen a side of you he didn’t know about before
* “So brave and kind”
* The total package
* Looks like he finally has something to talk to you about
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it’s not the waking, it’s the rising
I was gonna ask if you guys are ready to cry at nine in the morning but who am I kidding, this fandom is always crying
summary: Caleb put a cross on Alex’s suit; Alex comes to terms with this, among other things
warning: christianity, religious trauma
word count: 1,542
---
There was a song. When Alex was a kid, there was a song that his mother would sing to him every night before bed. Something soft that felt like home. She’d press a kiss to his forehead and pull the covers up to his chin and ask him if he’d said his prayers that night. He doesn’t remember the lyrics anymore, and he knows if he did, it wouldn’t feel like home ever again. 
It’s late at night and if he shuts his eyes, Alex can focus on Luke’s arm around his shoulder and Reggie’s thrown over his stomach, Julie’s dark curls pressing against his cheek. They’re all asleep, and the studio is eerily quiet; he can hear a draft coming in from the bottom of the door, and the ticking of an old clock that’s been on the wall since 1993. He remembers the day they got that clock. It was old and dusty even when they bought it from the corner of a thrift shop. Bobby claimed that they had to have some sort of way to tell the time when they were rehearsing, and Luke never replaced the batteries in his watch. Alex blinks slowly, inhaling the scent of the night, crisp and warm. His fingers are curled around the pin on the lapels of his suit jacket, trembling slightly. He traces the ridges in the cross with his nail and it feels heart achingly familiar, yet foreign at the same time. It doesn’t make any sense. 
He hadn’t noticed it at first, too busy with the worries of escaping the club and crossing over and then the joy of being free. But now it’s prodding at every nook and cranny in his mind, pulling at memories and things that are too compressed and faded to be called memories, but too real to be anything else.
Alex blinks roughly and suddenly he’s ten years old, sitting, cramped, at the end of the pew, with his little sister asleep against his shoulder.
“...that man shall not lay with man...” 
Alex doesn’t quite know what it means, but the way he says it feels like his voice is boring directly into Alex’s soul. He picks at the frayed edges of his shoelaces and exhales slowly. Murmurs of assent course throughout the church. His mother, his father, his sunday school teacher, Mr and Mrs. Daniels from across the street, everyone. He wants to ask his mother what the pastor means by this, but suddenly he blinks.
Alex is back in the studio, breath ragged like sandpaper. He digs his nails into his palm, stomach churning at the lack of sensation. If he were still alive, he’d open his hand to reveal purple crescents, but he’s not. He’s not alive and maybe that’s for the best, his parents are probably happier without him tainting their reputation. He closes his eyes, trying to erase the memories.
He’s 12. His room is cold and his cheeks are streaked with fresh tears. He cups his hands over his ears, begging the noise to go away. It’s all so, so much. It’s trying to kill him, he’s sure of it. It’s punishment. He bites at his lip until it bleeds, tells himself he deserves it.
It’s the devil, that’s what his mom would say. ‘Satan has wormed his way into your mind.’ But that’s the problem isn’t it? It feels real, it feels like him. It’s his fault, it’s his fault, it’s all his fault.
That’s the night he creates The Plan. The Plan is to marry a nice girl, a church girl with blond ringlets and rosy cheeks and a dainty smile. Maybe he’d learn to love her one day, maybe if he tried hard enough. Deep down he knows he can’t, but the idea of living a lie sounds better than the alternative. White picket fence, 2 kids, and maybe a dog. He’d be just like his parents and try his hardest to ignore the heartache.
The Plan doesn’t work out. 
Alex is tired. Tired of remembering. Tired of not remembering. Tired of the cold metal against his palm, mocking him. If he squeezes hard enough, maybe it’ll turn to dust in his hand. Maybe it’ll melt, and burn a welt in his skin, a permanent mark that should hurt but can’t no matter how much he wants it to.
He closes his eyes, wonders how he can cry. He shouldn’t even have tear ducts.
“...that none of you have had any sinful desires recently?”
Oh he’s 15 now, he’d forgotten this one.
A chorus of “no sir’s” echo through the cramped room. Alex’s voice feels disembodied, his throat dry. He’s lying, he’s lying, he’s lying. He waits with bated breath for someone to stand up and blurt it out, that Alex Mercer is a sinful liar who deserves eternal damnation.
“Remember your role as the man...” Whatever comes next is blurred. Alex shrinks into himself, blinking rapidly to hide his tears, begging for someone to take him, toss him into the ocean and let him drown. It’s what he deserves, anyway.
The studio is cold, despite it being warm outside. Alex pulls his jacket tighter around himself, every motion seeming to disturb the air.  Sometimes it feels like he’s causing a disturbance, just by being there. He remembers the dark room, remembers it all too well. It was suffocating and horrible, and he was sure it was hell. He’d curled in on himself and sobbed because his parents were right. He’d gone to hell and he’d dragged Luke and Reggie down with him.
But it wasn’t hell. And it still isn’t. Sometimes he’ll wake up in a cold sweat, feeling disoriented and numb, dreams filled with fire and screams of “It’s your fault, it’s your fault, it’s all. Your. Fault.” Alex exhales shakily, attempting to even out his breathing. He doesn’t know how he feels cold, he shouldn’t be able to. 
Alex pulls himself up, careful not to disturb his friends. They all look so peaceful and gentle, Alex wonders if that’s how he looks when he’s asleep, fragile and just… happy. He hesitates by the door, hand hovering over the handle. He doesn’t quite know where he wants to go, but there’s something pulsing in his chest telling him to leave.  
The beach is quiet. Alex pulls his shoes off and digs his feet into the sand, squeezing his eyes shut as tight as he can, just wanting to feel. The sand is cold and coarse beneath his bare feet. He pulls his gaze to the ocean, rocking rhythmically and shimmering beneath the dull moonlight. It feels like just yesterday that he was sitting, feet dangling off the pier while Luke and Bobby wrestled in the sand and Reggie read whatever book he’d nicked from the Barnes and Noble as of late. But there’s a neighborhood where the bookshop used to be, and someone else where Bobby should’ve been, and everything was different. 
Alex unpins the cross from over his heart, the weight shifting from his chest to his open palm. It’s silver, glinting in the light, and he wonders if it’ll break apart from the glow and swallow him whole. It doesn’t. Alex turns it over in his hand and runs his finger along the point, a cynical part of him wanting it to somehow draw blood that doesn’t even exist anymore.  
Everything in him is screaming to crush it beneath his heel and walk off, leaving the mangled metal on the boardwalk. But it’s like there’s still a tether wrapped tightly around his wrists, the other tied to the tall steeple on the church that had towered over him since before he could even walk. It’s knotted and disfigured and red-hot, burning him up from the inside. How can he feel so disconnected and so stuck at the same time? He wants to let go, to toss the last reminders of his parents and their influence in the sand, leave it to rot. But he can’t, he can’t, he can’t- 
“What do you want?” Bobby asks a sniffling Alex. He tilts his head, waiting for an answer.
Alex opens his mouth, shuts it. What does he want? It’s always been what his parents want, what the church tells him to do, stand rigid and smile wide. But no one’s ever asked what Alex wants. “I- I don’t know.” His voice is barely a whisper. 
“You want to drum, right? 
Alex nods fervently. “Yea, of course I do.”
“Then start with that.” Bobby squeezes his shoulder and slips from the studio, leaving Alex to clutch his backpack to his chest and ponder. 
Alex wants to be free. He realizes it finally, 25 years after Bobby asked. He turns the cross over in his hand once more; it feels like it’s left a mark over his chest, a scar. He takes a step back, swinging his arm behind his head, and he throws it. It lands in the ocean, sending a ripple through the water. And then it stills. Alex imagines it sinking down, down, down. He lets out a breathy laugh, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. There’s a scar running all across his soul, dark and prickly, but it’s healing.
---
stupid text limit. i had to turn the new post maker off to post this, so that’s fun. not looking forward to when i can’t turn it off.
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simpingforsoftboys · 3 years
Text
Curiosity Killed the Cat
ft. Kuroken
G/N Reader
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Read this first
Mini Series Here
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Thanks so much for the request anon! I actually went back and forth with this- but I’m finally satisfied with how this turned out! Hope you enjoy!
Kenma hated these types of events. Blaring music, flashing lights, horny drunk people, crowded spaces. Yes, parties were the worst- but it wasn’t like he could tell Kuroo “no, I’m not going to attend your best friend’s 27th birthday party just because.” Which is why they’re in Osaka and not Tokyo at the moment. Kuroo had gone off to god knows where- claiming he was going to get some drinks for them- but that was 15 minutes ago and he still hadn’t returned. Shoyo was arriving late, so there was no one the dyed blonde felt comfortable with speaking too. Seeing no other option, he decided to seek Kuroo out on his own. 
“Excuse me.” The short male muttered as he nudged people aside to get to the bar. No one seemed to mind, too caught up in their dancing- probably thanks to their alcohol induced haze. His skin crawled in disgust as he passed by some chick who was making out with Miya Atsumu- if Shoyo was right with his suspicions, Sakusa Kiyoomi would not be happy. He pushed that thought aside. Eventually he made it to the bar- successfully locating Kuroo. “I was waiting what’s-” He was shut up by his fiance’s hand over his mouth. 
“Shh... look over there, across the counter- is that Y/n?” Kenma followed where Kuroo was pointing, they couldn’t see the persons face, but they had a similar figure and skin tone to your own. Suddenly the person turned- but they realized that it wasn’t you. 
It had been two, nearly three years since your emotional breakup, and they still found themselves looking for you in every room they entered. Kenma hadn’t gotten over his love for you- he doubted he ever would, but it was just another thing he had learned to live with. Kuroo slowly began to realize how much of an impact you had on his daily life, things he had previously taken for granted like a homemade meal at the end of a long day, hot bath prepped and ready, folded clothes and cute little notes. Those things were gone now, so he and Kenma had to step up and do it- until eventually they just decided to hire someone to do it for them. It wasn’t the same- sure, the housekeeper did an amazing job, but the difference was palpable. It sounded dumb but they could just feel the lack of love- your absence had created a void in the large penthouse. 
It had taken time, but Tetsuro realized that yeah, he did love you- not as much as Kenma- yet, it was a tangible love all the same. Which is why it hurt him that day- not only because you left them, but because you didn’t feel loved by him. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at you- that was his own doing. All you had done was leave him with happy memories. 
Kenma found himself reverting back to his old habits. Their home was a lot lonelier without you. Kuroo often went on weeks- if not months long- business trips for the volleyball association, leaving Kenma home alone for lengthy periods of time. No longer did he have you to keep him company or monitor his sleeping or eating habits. Even his viewers had noticed his unhealthy lifestyle and urged him to take better care of himself, but it wasn’t the same. So, without anyone there to stop him, he would fall into ruin- because then, when he was exhausted or kept occupied by the newest trending game title- he wouldn’t be thinking about all that he was missing. 
Neither of them had spoken- or even checked up on you since that day, those  few years ago. You had blocked them on everything, made your accounts private, changed your phone number, and asked your mutual friends to not share anything about you with them. It hurt- because how can you so easily shut out the people you love- but after much thought and consideration, they realize you had to be hurting twice as bad as they did. Unlike them, you had the time to simmer in your pain, hurt, and longing, while they remained oblivious. 
Ignorance was bliss.
The two of them left Bokuto’s party early that night, Kuroo said something about an emergency Skype meeting in the morning as an excuse. In actuality they found themselves driving to one of your favorite restaurants- they hadn’t stepped a foot inside the establishment since the last time they ate here with you. But- as it was for many things apparently- tonight seemed to be one all about stepping out of their comfort zones. 
“What are you getting?” Kuroo tried to act casual, but Kenma had known him much too long to fall for his act. 
“I think I’ll get (f/f).” 
Kuroo nodded. “I think I will too.” Neither of them particularly liked (f/f), but it had been your go to order. Maybe by being here and eating the familiar dish, they could pretend that they were simply on a date as a triad- and you were running late- instead of dealing with the reality that they were a couple now and not a throuple. 
Their food arrives and they dig in, eating slowly, eyes shutting occasionally, it seems like they’re merely savoring the flavor- when in reality they’re trying to picture you dining with them. No words are exchanged between the two- they’re together yes, but it’s somehow a lonely occasion all the same. 
If you were here, the table would be filled with easy conversation- you were always so neutral when you spoke, teasing when you felt particularly daring (they realize now that this was such a rarity because you were hesitant about starting an altercation- which no one should have to be afraid of in any relationship). Kenma would let himself loosen up and exchange snarky words with Kuroo, who quipped back savagely, and you would watch them- laughter spilling from your lips. Too bad they didn’t try harder to include you in the conversation- not that they intentionally alienated you- just that they were enjoying themselves too much to bat an eye in your direction. 
Yeah, it was better for you that you weren’t here. That was a fact they still had trouble stomaching. 
They hear the restaurant’s door opening in the background, but don’t care enough to look who entered. It doesn’t matter to either of the two that it’s late at night and logically there shouldn’t be anyone else here but them. Their imagined scenario is much more appealing than real life. 
“Put me down Tsutomu!” A male scolds from the lobby area, despite their best efforts, they’re unable to block the newcomers voices out. 
Another male laughs in response. “Calm down Kenji, I got you!” 
“Hahah! Why are you so red Kenji-” Someone else adds, this person’s voice is familiar. Kenma and Tetsuro freeze at the sound. It’s kind of weird how they recognize it- despite having slowly forgotten what it sounded like over the course of passing time. You know how each time you recall a memory it actually ends up altering it a little? That’s how it was with your voice. Eventually their recollection of it was changed to the point that they couldn’t quite remember how exactly your laughter sounded, or even how your pitch changed with various moods. 
Their ears were filled with you- wonderful, gorgeous, breathtaking you- the one who cared too much and pushed aside prioritizing yourself until eventually you couldn’t take it anymore. The Y/n that they still, could never seem to love enough- even now. But it was dissimilar all the same, since you sounded so happy, so content- what was weird was that they didn’t even need to see your face to confirm it. 
Neither of them dare to look in your direction, afraid that you’d disappear right before their eyes. It isn’t until they see your approaching figure in their peripheral that they glance over. 
You’re positively glowing. It feels like you’re an entire galaxy- so far and out of reach- and they’re merely stargazers. They’re stuck on Earth, forever fated to watch and appreciate your splendor from an impossibly wide distance.
The purple-nearly black haired man that accompanies you pulls your chair out, gesturing to your seat with exaggerated motions. You laugh, sitting down in the most graceful manner possible and let him push your seat in. He places a kiss to your temple before going to pull out a chair for the other brown haired male- whose cheeks are still tinted red. 
The three of you order appetizers and speak about many things- Kuroo can overhear ‘volleyball’ and ‘hospital’ mentioned somewhere in the mix. The two men- your apparent lovers- don’t even have to make an effort to include you in their conversation, it’s like second nature for them, just as it should have been for him and Kenma. They listen intently as you ramble on about whatever, the shorter brown haired one adding his two cents in occasionally, while the taller male questions or presses you for more details. 
“Kuroo I’m not hungry anymore.” Kenma says, and only now does Tetsuro notice how upset his fiance is. Normally the half blonde is composed and neutral, but right now his face is scrunched up like he smelt something sour. The feeling is mutual. He isn’t happy with the situation either. 
"Do you want to head back to the hotel?”
“No, let’s stay a little longer.” 
So they stay, silently watching as you make lively conversation with your lovers. Observing as you polish off your plates and finish dessert, they’re still seated when the throuple pays the bill and walks out the exit. Eventually the elderly owner comes out and asks them if they want to order anything else- a polite way of letting them know that they’ve overstayed their welcome. 
They tell her no, pay their own bill, and head back to their car. They sit there in the parking lot a little longer.
“Hey Kenma.” Kuroo murmurs, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.
“Hm?” Kenma hums.
“Do you think we could have made it work?” It’s a question that they’ve never actually voiced out loud- not even once- in the years since the breakup.
“Why do you ask? You already know the answer.” Is what he receives in response. Kenma’s right, he did know.
“I... guess I needed to hear it.” He says lamely.
He turns the key and starts the ignition. They drive back to their hotel in silence. 
They made their beds a long time ago. So it’s only right that they lie in it- even if the bedsheets are uncomfy and the blanket threatens to suffocate them.
Kenma regrets wondering about how you were doing now. At least before tonight he was able to take comfort in the fact that you still might be in love with them.
The old idiom was right. Curiosity killed the cat. And he certainly felt like he was dying.
A/N: Believe it or not the inspo behind this was the song Good Stuff by Griff. I really liked the whole idea of Kuroken x reader ending on semi good terms. The difference between how their emotions for the reader portrayed here vs IwaOi is an example of this. Unlike IwaOi, Kuroken is able to identify their emotions when given time and space, they’re not necessarily prideful and can acknowledge that despite being broken up with, they’re still the ones who were left with “the good stuff.”
They miss you sure, but they know it’s unfair to want you to come back to them when they’ll never be able to love you as they should. So they don’t even bother wishing or seeking you out. Of course, they do their best to maintain some semblance of a connection to you (like why they look for you in crowded rooms and eat your favorite food), but they’re fine with remaining curious. Of course no one can remain willfully ignorant forever though.
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dent-de-leon · 3 years
Note
Mollymauk, 4, 5, 11, 13, 14, 15, 21, 22 :D (feel free to trim down if this is too many)
asksjkdf I'm sorry in advance because I got a little carried away so this got a little long, but thanks for the ask! I love any and every excuse to talk about Mollymauk...
4.) Best places to kiss on their body
I think Molly is actually very partial to forehead kisses! I feel like he uses that to ground Caleb in part because it’s something that’s always been very comforting to him--for instance, when Yasha finally gets to embrace him again, she also kisses his forehead. I think I remember Molly doing this for the twins back at the carnival too, so I feel like it’s a habit he picked up from the circus? Just the kind of little thing you do for someone to show you love them.
Aside from that, I think he would really appreciate a kiss on the neck, where most of his blood hunter scars--and that haunting red Eye--are. A bit of loving tenderness to soothe the pain.
5.) Guilty pleasures
Oh I love this pick for Molly cause boY does he have a lot of these!! He builds a life off joy and hedonism, so he’s got this in spades. I forget where, but I’ve definitely seen someone theorize before that the reason base pleasures are so appealing to Molly is because he started out just feeling like an “Empty” body, so anything that’s very stimulating on a physical level is very grounding for him? I really like the idea of that. I think wanting to feel like he was really “alive” and “whole” is part of why he gravitated towards decadence and indulgence, anything that made his heart beat faster.
The episode where we get the famous “Long may I reign” scene definitely covers a lot of his favorite indulgences. But as much as he loves being spoiled, I think he also likes making sure the people he cares about are pampered like royalty too. Taliesin mentioned before that the reason Molly likes gold so much is because he’s got this very childish perception that money is Good because you can use it to get Nice Things that make other people Happy. Since Molly’s been alive for only two years, I feel like a lot of his guilty pleasures actually stem from this sort of sentiment. The fact that he’s still so young and everything in the world is very new and exciting and he just wants to be as happy as possible--and make his loved ones happy too. It’s a very endearingly innocent sort of view.
11.) Bad or petty habits
Hmmm I feel like the one thing that makes Molly the pettiest is when someone tries to tell him his tarot readings are bullshit lmao. Even if he mostly thinks so himself, he adamantly refuses to hear it from anyone else.
13.) What gets them flustered
I think whenever someone is being very genuine and having a real heart to heart with him. Molly is perfectly at ease talking bullshit or telling pretty lies. He’s also very comfortable being very sincere and compassionate when it comes to comforting others, like the little ways he’s always trying to cheer up Jester, the forehead kiss for Caleb, promising Fjord the Nein won’t let him die, bringing Yasha a four-leaf-clover with the wish that one day she’ll feel happier.
But whenever people are openly affectionate and trying to have an honest conversation with him? I think that makes him tense up and panic a bit. He’s not good with letting himself be vulnerable, dropping his showman’s performance. We actually see a lot of this when Molly is resurrected and starts going by Kingsley. He knows he has feelings for the Nein, but he’s definitely a little nervous and overwhelmed when he confronts that.
Several times, Caleb assures King he’s still welcome in the Nein, and that always makes Kingsley either defensive or very quiet, keeps catching him off-guard. “Well for starters, you are with friends.” “Perhaps this is your first time meeting us. It's our second time...Stick with us.” “We have a habit of taking in strays.” “This is the newest member of the band.” Being accepted just like that, loved by all the Nein so unconditionally, just like that? I think it leaves him a little shaken, because he doesn’t feel like he’s done anything to earn it. Like he doesn’t deserve to be this missed and wanted and loved.
14.) Ingrained habits/forces of habit
I think there are some nights where he keeps looking over his shoulder and feels like he’s being watched--when the Eyes of Nine start to itch and burn, when it feels like something’s crawling under his skin--and he looks at the mirror and swears he sees a face that looks just the same but somehow isn’t his. And for a while after he first wakes--and again when he’s resurrected--I think there are still moments when he’s scared or panicked and he’ll just keep repeating Empty over and over.
I also really like how Taliesin used to just pick a random card from his tarot deck to decide what Molly should do. I can definitely see Mollymauk doing something similar--just pulling a random card from his deck on a whim, trusting it’ll lead him in the right direction.
15.) What it takes to make them cry
I feel like Molly rarely cries, mainly because he hates feeling sorry for himself or ruminating on any bad memories. He’s kinda funny that way; he refuses to let himself be unhappy, especially when he feels like he’s always living on borrowed time. The one thing I can see really making him break down is seeing his loved ones hurting--he literally spits at the face of his own death, but I think he’s really terrified of losing someone else.
If there’s one scene where I can really see Molly crying, it’s when Jester falls in that final battle. When Caleb makes this desperate plea that breaks through to Molly for a single heart-wrenching moment, “You’re killing her, you’re killing her! You love her. You’re killing her!” The absolute horror of that shakes Lucien’s control for just a moment, and Molly claws at his own face in retaliation. You can just tell how much his heart is breaking just then, how scared he is, how much he must hate himself. I could definitely imagine Molly shedding a few tears right then, if he had enough control of the body to do it.
Having to watch Lucien use his body to kill Jester and Caleb, the amount of pain Lucien caused Yasha and all the others, the nightmares of his death and black chains that forever haunt him after--I think those are the kinds of things that would bring Molly to tears in his lowest moments. And when he finally reads Beau’s book and finds out about how Yasha suffered a similar fate under Obann? Yeah, I think he’d get choked up over that too.
21.) Turning points in their life
Oh, there’s so many interesting twists and turns Molly’s life takes in just a few short years. Undoubtably, I think every life, death, and rebirth left the biggest impact. The fact that he woke all alone that first time--and then found himself surrounded by so many loved ones a lifetime later--I think that had a profound impact on his sense of self worth and his attachment to others.
That first life, Molly convinces himself that he must have been someone awful before, to have been left alone in an unmarked grave on the side of the road. With no one who missed or mourned him. He believes he somehow deserves that fate. And when he’s taken in by the circus? Taliesin mentions he never spends more than 24 hours alone. He’s...very lonely, I think. Someone who can’t bear to be isolated again. So when he wakes up again to a whole family of people who love him? Who welcome him wholeheartedly and insist they’ll love him unconditionally, no matter who he is? It’s beautiful, and it means the world to someone like Mollymauk/Kingsley. “I’m looking forward to the future. And I hope to deserve to have woken up surrounded by such people.”
Molly’s also mentioned that it was the Moonweaver who helped guide him when he first woke, who gave him comfort in having a new start in life. “Can you imagine what it would feel like to not feel anything about anything that had happened to you so far?...It’s very freeing. It’s the best thing--It’s the thing that happened to me. It’s not the best thing that happened to me, it’s the thing that happened to me. I found peace in building a new person. The Moonweaver--” However he came to worship the Moonweaver, I think it was definitely one of the most formative experiences in all his lives. I also like to headcanon the woman in a red coat Molly/King met in his dream was another visit from the Moonweaver, and she was either trying to return his memories or offer him another chance at a fresh start.
22.) People who’ve influenced them greatly
Oh, pre-campaign I think Molly modeled a lot of his behaviors and mannerisms after others in the circus, especially Gustav. He’s the one who named Mollymauk and presumably the one who spent the most time raising him and caring for him in that Empty period.
Molly has his own set of morals he feels very strongly about, and it’s entirely learned from the circus, “Things came back quick, and the circus helped. They were good people. They did a lot for me, and joy can fill an awful lot of a person’s life.” “I may be a liar, but I’m never a betrayer. I’m honest in my work and I believe in doing a good turn...I stayed with that circus for two years, and I know how people treat each other. It’s important.” When Molly is resurrected again, I think all of the Mighty Nein have very much the same effect on him.
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achliegh · 3 years
Text
Golden
Prologue
Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.
Characters belong to @lumosinlove
TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe
Chapter 1:
Picking Wildflowers
“Ohhhh Leo! Oh Leo! Leo! More More!”
“Please Leo I’m soooo cloosse! Ah! AH! AHHHH!”
Laughing both Finn and Logan were clapped on their shoulders as Thomas and James came up behind them. Red faced Logan and Finn laughed a long, a little more awkwardly and stiff, but much more relaxed than they were at the beginning of the trip.
They kept poking fun and walking beside each other to bump shoulders. Finn, who had a mild limp, and Logan , who still has a bite mark on his ass cheek, walked into the locker room. Everyone had heard the two of them moaning last night with their angelic cowboy so the chirping wasn’t a surprise. Then again, when everyone noticed Finn limping instead of Logan they couldn’t help but stare in wild amusement.
No one on the rest of the team got to meet Leo so they all thought he was some scrappy hick who is into threesomes. Which he is, but he also is one of the sweetest people Logan and Finn had ever met! He gave them a goodmorning/goodbye kiss. What an angel, but they don’t know that, or that he snuggled with them all night even when Logan thought he was a comforter in his sleep and tried to kick him off the bed. He held them just as close as they have held each other for years.
It brought a lot of feelings to the surface that Logan didn’t want to acknowledge yet. Finn knew he was got to daydreaming about Leo’s sweet words he whispered before they even got him into bed, all day.
“Is this all we are going to hear about today?” Logan sets his bag down in his stall and starts undressing. Huffing annoyed as he looked in his bag for his practice jersey.
“You think we would talk about anything else when your moaning of a hillbilly’s name is still fresh in our brain?” Sirius walks past them and bumps Logan playfully with his hip so he jolts forwards a little having to catch himself with his hands in front of his face so he doesn’t faceplant into the locker behind him. The shorter guy glares a little and sticks out his tongue in a show of true maturity. Taking off his pants and changing before anyone sees the bite, he turns around to sit and put his socks and tape.
He feels a tap on his thigh and looks at Finn who is holding his phone so only they can see it, and there is a text from Leo. They had both sent him good morning texts and added him to a group chat because they honestly really liked him, they literally talked about Leo as they got dressed that morning, but they weren’t for sure he would actually answer them.
Text From: Cowboy Sweet Ass
8:15 am
Y’all want to come help me with something later <3
I want to see you again before you leave :)
They share a look of equal excitement and slight arousal from what this implies, Finn texts Leo back, both having this dazed almost soppy look on their face, especially when they looked at each other. Leo was having an effect on the guy and everyone on the team could feel it. Chirping aside, they were happy for them. Maybe this would get them to finally talk to each other.
They could hope.
Leo was dressed for success, overalls without a shirt that were pretty baggy on him and his square-toed work boots, he was sweating in the summer heat as he pushed his hair back under his ball cap to keep the sun out of his eyes as the ranch hands worked with the horses and he worked on fixing the baler. It was nine am and over 80 degrees, sometimes he doesn’t enjoy Louisiana as much as he thinks. But nothing could ruin his mood, humming cheesy love songs to the radio, tapping the rhythm on the machine. Smiling, he takes a step back from the bailer and wipes the sweat off his forehead with the rag from his pocket.
He sees a light blue 1967 Chevy C/K10 pulls up the dusty driveway and parks in its usual spot next to the main house. Who else but Clayton, the man of the hour, hop out of the truck wearing one of his stupid short ass crop tops that stop just below his nipple, making it easy for Leo to tweak them when he annoys him, with his jeans, belt, and boots that are falling apart. Strutting over to Leo he smiles bright and meets him by the bailer.
Leo smiles and they dap, tapping their foreheads together.
“Sooo, how was last night? I saw you leave with those two buffies and I knew you were getting double.” Clayton smiles and hands Leo the wrench he needs when Leo holds out his hand and laughs a little. Leaning on the machine and tipping his head back to soak in the sun.
Leo and Clayton have been friends since kindergarten, having never been apart for more than two days, they told each other everything. They were so close that their parents think they are going to end up together someday. They feel different about it. But they tell each other everything, everything, maybe even too much sometimes.
Traveling together for rodeo has gotten them so close that people just assume they are related somehow. It gets weird when they drunkenly kiss sometimes though. Clayton roping calves and Leo riding bulls has made them a hot commodity with the ladies but they make it clear that they aren’t interested… or that Leo isn’t interested. Clayton would still tap that.
“Dude, they were amazing! Fuckin Montgomery Gentry got me laid.” Leo waits a second for Clayton to catch on, then when it clicks that he is talking about Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy, when he stands back up from where he was squatting next to the baler to fix the belts and gets a slap on the back as Clayton whoops. Jumping around he shakes Leo’s shoulders.
“That's fucking hilarious! They took that song literally! Damn, you gotta try and keep ‘em, are you seeing them again? Or was this one of your hook ups that could work but you don’t want it.” Leo narrows his eyes at Clayton and grabs him into a headlock, struggling to get away from the 3” taller man. Clayton falls to the ground when Leo lets him go.
“I don’t do that! Plus, I want them to go out to secret with me tonight.” Leo looks at him while wiping the grease off his hands and squinting a little as the sun gleams off the metal right into his eyes. The red creeping down his neck doesn’t go unnoticed by the dusty friend and he smirks at him.
“Playboy Leo going on a real date… damn they must have really had an impact on you.”
“Well they rode me at the same time, so that left an impression. It’s funny how I feel more comfortable with two people rather than one.” They start walking towards the house to grab some water and tell Eloise that Clayton is here, so when Judy calls they can tell her that her son is indeed still here.
“One on the dick and one on the face or something weird?” Leo smiles and shakes his head as he gulps down a glass of water.
“How do you just always know?”
Text From: Cowboy Sweet Ass
6:01 pm
I’m outside Sweethearts
ShortCake
6:01 pm
Comming out
CarrotStix
6:01 pm
I’m gey
Leo laughs a little as he reads the texts, he hasn’t stopped smiling all day after he gushed about the boys to his mom and sudo-brother. Texting them when he could he didn’t have time to change before he came to pick them up, but knowing how they react to him… it will be just fine.
Logan gets into the truck first, sliding into the middle and planting a kiss on Leo’s cheek making them both smile brightly and dopey. Finn gets in and leans over Logan to plant a steamy kiss on Leo’s slightly dry lips, taking him by surprise but he melts into it, pulling away until they are still close enough to bump noses.
“Hi” Leo can’t help but laugh as Finn smiles a blushes before sitting back and buckling up, Logan grabs his face looking a little excited and gives him a kiss as well, a bit more possessive and sharp but when they pull away Logan gets buckled while Leo is still blinking in shock.
“Nice to see you too.” He smiles stupidly and relaxes into the seat before switching gear and starting to drive, the rink is close to the outskirts of town. “Alright, tomorrow is mama’s birthday! So.. that means I need to get her some of her favorite things, like wildflower, smooth rocks, and some honeysuckle. I’m taking y’all to a place only Clayton and I ever go, and it has all of those things… and we can go skinny dipping because I like seeing y’all naked.” Leo smiles innocently at them for a moment as he pulls onto a gravel road and starts driving.
“You don’t plan to kill us right? I mean we could probably take you but… I’d rather you take me” Logan bites his lip and leans into Leo’s side, Leo takes his hand off the steering wheel to wrap it around Logan’s shoulders and takes one of Finn’s hands.
“Ditto.” Finn smiles and is looking out the window in awe, as someone who has grown up in the city and really hasn’t been outdoors much he isn’t used to seeing all of the thick trees and wild plants. He squeezes Leo’s hand in excitement.
After a half hour of driving and listening to some oldies music on the radio, they pull over to the side of the road and Leo turns off the truck. “Okay, one more kiss” He leans over and kisses Logan with hand on the back of his neck, humming in contentment before smoothly pulling away and kissing Finn in one smooth motion. He pulls away and sighs happily leaning his head back on the seat, when he opens his eyes he sees Logan and Finn kissing and his heart skips a beat watching them. “Okay, we have a job to get done before we get into some sexy stuff!” Leo is more so reminding himself than the other two who pulled away and are looking at him the same way they did last night.
Getting out of the truck Leo walks toward the woods he pulled up next to and notices the boys aren't behind him, turning around he sees Finn looking at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes through the window. Oh yeah, the door is sticky.
He can’t get the door open.
Laughing Leo walks over to the door and opens the jammed door with ease, bowing slightly. “Your majesty” Finn snorts and gets out of the truck before patting Leo’s head and moving out of the way for Logan to hop out.
Logan takes Leo off guard by leaning his full body weight into him after he closes the door, Leo being the sweetheart he is, just scoops Logan up like he weighs nothing and smiles when he lets out the most manly squeak. Finn sneaks a picture smiling as he moves to their side.
Leo leads them through the thick woods and only sets Logan down when they reach a Grove with a crystal clear small lake and flowers everywhere. It was beautiful.
“This is what we call Secret, because we don’t think anyone really knows about it but” He shrugs “Maybe someone does.” He walks forward and sits on a stump, around the stump is a bunch of small white flowers that are two lipped and smell very strong.
Finn walks towards the water and sees a bunch of minnows socializing in the shallows, crouching down he feels the water, taking note of how warm it is. Logan was mesmerized by all the flowers growing, all different colors of shapes. Bee’s buzzed around the surprisingly silent grove and Logan watched them before picking a couple handfuls of flowers.
Leo looks up at Finn first and smiles as he sees him picking out rock he finds because Leo mentioned they needed some, and then his eyes move to Logan who is holding armfuls of beautiful flowers and even has a couple of leaves and petals in his extra curly hair from it drying in the humid heat. Leo felt so at peace with the whole situation. It felt natural.
Logan hears someone walking toward him and looks up with his arms just overflowing with flowers, Finn is carrying handfuls of wet rocks that keep falling out of his hands and he keeps bending to pick up to just… drop more. It was funny and Leo seemed to agree as he was taking a video of Finn dropping and picking up stones.
“Here” Leo holds out a cloth bag and catches the rock that just fell out of Finn’s hand to finally stop the cycle. They put everything in separate appropriate bags before setting them on the stump Leo was sitting on before.
Turning to the boys and smiling, Leo unbuckles his overalls and drops them after he kicks off his boots, so he is just standing there in his tight teal boxer briefs that have dumplings on them. His smiles turns into a teasing smirk as he turns to face the lake having his back to his boys and takes his underwear off before looking over his shoulder at them and then running into the lakes and driving in. Fin and Logan strip so fast, tossing their clothes wherever and following this Casanova into the water.
Two hours of dunking, kissing, splashing and holding each other close. They decide to lay in the short grass of the grove where the flowers don’t reach, sprawling out in a circle, the top of their heads facing each other. They pass around a spliff that Leo brought in the pocket of his overalls. Relaxing in the setting sun as they air dry.
“What day do you guys leave?” Leo has his eyes closed as he is relaxing holding his hand out for the spliff as Finn shotguns Logan, handing it to Leo as they end up sloppily kissing each other before pulling away to answer.
“A week, so you can call us up anytime.” Finn smiles and rolls onto his stomach propping his head up on his hands as he watches the smoke fall from Leo’s lips. His eyelids feel a little heavy as the exhaustion from practice and the cbd from the weed soak into his nerves.
“Are we going to have sex tonight?” Logan also rolls onto his stomach bumping into Finn’s shoulder as he clumsily does so. Leo opens his bright eyes and tips his head back to look at them. “I am really tired but… I also kinda want to suck you dick.” Leo huffs out a laugh and flicks the roach into the lake where a fish slurps it up later.
“I would not say no to that, sweetheart.” Leo bites his lips a little as Logan flushes pink and crawls over to him sliding between his legs leaving light kisses and nips on the tops and inner of his thighs and watching him get hard. Then Logan notices it.
“Do- do you have a worm tattoo with a lasso on your inner knee?” Logan can’t help but laugh as Leo nods smiling. Finn, who has been in heaven watching, joins Logan between Leo’s legs and notices the small tattoo as well and kisses it.
“I have a bunch of little ones. Can you blow me now?” Leo props himself up on his elbows, an adorable blush spread across his cheeks and nose make him look so delicious. Finn and Logan share a look before smiling and licking up Leo’s shaft on opposite sides causing Leo’s head to fall back and his knees to spread more. “Fuck.”
Logan and Finn continue to mirror each other as Logan massages Leo’s taint and balls while Finn sucks on his head, Logan on the base.
Leo is a mess.
His back arching, his jaw tense from making himself hold off from fucking up into their mouths or grinding back onto Logan’s hand. He is gripping the grass so his hands will be stained tomorrow, sweat beading on his hairline and chest. Moaning every once in a while when he can find his voice.
Finn takes him down as much as he can as Logan squeezes just right causing Leo to cum hard, throwing his hands in his hair and tugging it. Once he finishes riding out his orgasm he just flops down all boneless.
“Give me a minute and I’ll get you off.” Leo exhales slowly and props himself up to look at them and a flush of want rushes through him. Finn had gotten himself off on Leo’s leg, how he didn’t notice he didn’t know, Logan looks like he hasn’t moved but his face was blissed out, he came untouched and if that wasn’t the sexiest fucking thing Leo has ever seen. He didn’t know what was.
Cleaning themselves up with some lake water and getting dressed they carry their treasures back to the truck. They all slide in and make their way back to town. Leo sings some shitty old songs with his hand on Logan's upper thigh as Finn has his head on his shoulder drifting in and out of sleep, by the time Leo makes it to the hotel they are staying at, both of them are asleep. Kissing their foreheads he slowly shakes them awake.
“We’re here, come on darlings, let's get you to bed.” He gets them up and smiles as Finn stretches like a cat and snuggles into his side as he supports them on either side. Walking them to their room he waits for one of them to unlock the door and hears a couple of guys yelling around a ‘cheater in go-fish!’ and Leo can’t help but wonder what it's like to travel with a team like Logan and Finn’s.
After a few tires Leo just takes the key from Logan and swipes it to unlock the door. Leo stumbles a little as they both lean forward. He sits them on the bed and get them undressed.
“What do you like to sleep in?” Leo asks as he located their bag in the corner of the room. Logan mumbles something about Finn’s shirt and Finn just mentions boxers. Leo gets them situated, having Logan lift his arms so he can put Finn’s shirt on him. It's baggy and makes Logan look so sweet that Leo can’t help but lean down and give him a sweet kiss.
Tucking a smiling Logan into bed he moves to get Finn under the covers and see him pouting.
“Wa kith” Leo tries not to groan at how these two beefy boys can be so sweet and cute that it hurts his chest. He gives Finn a kiss and pulls away, watching the two snuggle into each other.
Leo realizes he wants this, every night.
Swallowing down the sudden fear that crashed over him he turns to leave, forgetting to put the hotel key on the night stand he doesn’t realize he still has it until he is getting ready for bed himself in his room that's too large for one person.
Now he has an excuse to see them again.
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9/10 Chapter 1 - Malt
I started writing a bit of a Harry/Kim fanfic??? Because why the hell not. Anyway, here’s the first part of it. I’m kind of just making it up as I go with a few specific ideas scattered in my head. Spoilers for various plot points. Here’s a sample before the cut. Feel free to send any suggestions or critique, since it’s been ages since I have done much writing. Still working on getting a feel for Harry’s skill voices.
YOU — After a little while, your voice finally returns. “Why are you so nice to me?” KIM KITSURAGI — He takes a long pause and leans back in his chair. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just stubborn too.” PERCEPTION — You turn to look at him as you finally untangle yourself from your chrysalis of arms, and he looks different somehow. You don’t know if it’s your eyes being sore as hell, or the dull ambiance of the hazy bar lights. Somehow, he looks so light. His bomber jacket is slightly pulled up by his folded arms behind his head, seeming to break the bulky illusion it usually projects over his slim torso. Like suddenly seeing a gap in a suit of armor. SUGGESTION — You should tickle him. ESPRIT DE CORPS — He will kill you in mere seconds if you do that.
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Hello again, Harry boy. The midnight train to Fuck-All-Borough is boarding once again, and you’ve pre-paid your seat. YOU — Okay. ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Yes, that’s right. Let’s drive right into the sweet, succulent sopor of oblivion. Let no feelings come to pass, no sensations, just the pure bliss of the radiating void. YOU — But aren’t you here? ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — That’s just it, Harry. I’m nothing. I am the pale of the mind, I am the deafening silence, I am the black canvas that stretches taut when you close your eyes. I am the swaddle that cradles the mind and the ocean you will drown in. I am born of you and someday, you will die in me. LIMBIC SYSTEM —  But not yet—something still stirs in this weighted sack. Something heavy, and sore, and full of noise that steadily rises into a crescendo.
PERCEPTION — And then you open your eyes. And it fucking hurts. PAIN THRESHOLD — Dear god, it’s like a jackhammer on a pogo stick on another jackhammer. PERCEPTION — You realize there’s a smell you haven’t smelled in a few weeks now that’s uncomfortably emanating from your form. Al Gul. COMPOSURE — Oh. You finally did it again. You fucked up.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — So we got a little smashed. Who cares. You know what’s a great way to stop feeling sorry about it? Getting smashed again. AUTHORITY — No. YOU — Why am I always fucking things up? HALF LIGHT — Because life is terrifying. LOGIC — He’s right about that one.
YOU — What was I doing last night? ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Like I said, getting smashed. CONCEPTUALIZATION — Painting the world with a palette of sugary booze and sad, old rock and roll for sad, old rockstars.
YOU — Who did I hurt this time? DRAMA — Mostly, just yourself. VOLITION — A small miracle, if so. You’re used to self-immolation. YOU — But why? Why now? We were doing better. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Speak for yourself. LOGIC — You do know that you can’t just ride out two decades of practiced chemical drowning on a workhorse of piety and guilt, right?
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — This ceaseless dependency on cocktails of narcotics and spirits has weakened you shamefully. PERCEPTION — You look around your dimly lit bedroom, eyes half-closed anyway to quiet the searing pain in your cerebral cortex, slowly putting the pieces back together as the rest of your body wakes up.
YOU — I was having a shitty day. I was stuck on a case and my mind just kept drifting into half-remembered past mistakes. After work, I decided to do it. I called her again, like an idiot. I thought to myself, I can do this, I can let her go, and I’ll tell her I’m finally over it (almost). INLAND EMPIRE — But that is not how it went. She had prepared for the next time you would call. The last time was terrifying enough, torn awake at 3 in the morning, listening to your desperate lies, digging through past trauma. 
YOU — “Hey, uh, Dora. It’s Harry. I’m sorry—“ PERCEPTION — A sharp sigh breaks your concentration. DORA — “Let me stop you there, Harry. Because I’m tired of this. You’ve been doing this six years now but it feels at least twice as long. So since you can’t put an end to it, I am. Don’t call again. You won’t be reaching me at this number anymore.” PERCEPTION — Before you can react, there’s silence. And a dial tone. YOU — Fuck. Fuck shit fuck.
COMPOSURE — You stumble through dialing the number again, fingers slipping the first time from nerves and connecting the second, with no answer. You try again. And again. And then you stop trying. It takes everything in you not to smash the phone where it sits. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You need to smash something. If we can’t smash the phone, we HAVE to smash something. REACTION SPEED — Your feet are already taking you away from the pay phone, one thought ahead of the rest of you. You barely round the corner into the alley before you plant your fist full force into the nearest brick wall. PAIN THRESHOLD — Your hand spirals into a fractal of pain, blood dripping down your busted knuckles, slowly running down the dirtied wall. You can feel the cracking of your knuckles, like a brittle lacework of glass strapped down only by the leather of your worn-out hands. HALF-LIGHT — Get out of here. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Now that you’re done smashing your fist, it’s time to get the rest of you smashed. YOU — “Fuck it. I’m getting a drink.”
CONCEPTUALIZATION — From there, it was a blaze of sweet, hot fire down your throat and back up again, run ragged from shitty karaoke and mild alcohol poisoning. But the film reel is running thin, and you’re struggling to get anything else from your memory bank.
YOU — How did I get back? I don’t remember walking home. ESPRIT DE CORPS — You asked for help.
HAND-EYE COORDINATION — You pat at your pockets, searching for the right one, not quite remembering what you’re doing but knowing the answer you thought of for a fraction of a second is somewhere in there. After a moment, you find it, carefully tucked away but nevertheless damp with sweat from your slacks.
“If you need to talk— 005-93-88-651 Lt. Kitsuragi”
INTERFACING — Your hands are a bit shaky, but you dial out the number on the slip of paper in your hands. PERCEPTION — It rings once. Twice. A third time. And then you hear the receiver click. KIM KITSURAGI — “Hello?”
SHIVERS — In a small apartment in Central Jamrock, not too far from Precinct 41, and not too far from the Jamrock Public Library, Lieutenant Kitsuragi sits on his bed, some light reading in hand, winding down for the night. His new apartment is still filled with cardboard boxes here and there, in no particular hurry to be unpacked. The lights of the city pierce through like little pinpricks in the glare of his bedside window, still insistent on their presence even in the quiet of a cool spring night.
YOU — “Hi, Kim, I uh…” Your voice shakes and you lose your words for a moment, because some part of you really didn’t expect him to pick up. KIM KITSURAGI — “Detective? It’s after midnight.” DRAMA — It’s already that late? You must’ve woken him up. A bad start. YOU — “Uhh… sorry, I uh. Wasn’t looking at the clock. We can just talk tomorrow—“ KIM KITSURAGI — “You’re drunk.” COMPOSURE — Fuck. There’s nothing coming out of your mouth anymore. Another bad phone call. It takes everything in you not to cry. You do anyway.
KIM KITSURAGI — “Where are you?” YOU — You manage to croak out enough to say “Sunshine’s Hideaway. Bar on 12th street.” KIM KITSURAGI — He pauses a moment, thinking. “...I’ll be there in a few minutes.” ESPRIT DE CORPS — He’s thinking about the best route there. LOGIC — He doesn’t have his motor carriage right now. He’s going to have to walk it, and it’s cold out. YOU — “I… you don’t have to do that, I’ll just—“ KIM KITSURAGI — “Harrier, just shut up and park your ass somewhere warm until I get there.” AUTHORITY — He’s doing it! He’s doing the eyebrow thing but on the phone! I didn’t know he could do that! YOU — “Yessir.”
It probably takes about 15 minutes for him to arrive, though each minute feels like five. You feel like a child waiting for their parents to come pick them up at school. You’re pretty sure everyone is staring at you. You can’t really see through the blurry bokeh of your stupid tears. But you can just barely make out the door of the bar opening, followed by a silhouette marked by orange slipping through. Lieutenant Kitsuragi spots you after a moment, and you quickly try to wipe your eyes like you haven’t just been crying the whole time as he approaches. KIM KITSURAGI — You can hear him pull at the chair next to yours, calmly settling into place. “Hello, detective.”
YOU — You try to pull up some words, but you just find yourself nodding appreciatively as you try not to grimace. COMPOSURE — Somehow, the moment his eyes fall on you, you feel like someone just ripped the rug right out from under your feet. You slide down on your elbows, face pressing down onto the table in humiliation, locking your hands together on the back of your neck, like you’re trying to hide in a little tomb of your own arms.
KIM KITSURAGI — You hear the lieutenant take a deep breath and sigh. He unzips his jacket, stifling him in the warm interior of the bar. “That rough, huh?”
YOU — You don’t want to say anything, but your mouth opens before you can stop it. “I’m such an asshole, Kim. I keep fucking everything up, over and over, no matter how hard I try. I just. Keep falling back into my bullshit.” Your voice shakes as you get the words out. “Is this just as good as it’s gonna get at this point? Have I fucked up entirely too much, entirely too long, am I just… this constant trainwreck now and forever? How much of myself have I wasted away into nothing, doing this shit? Acting like a child. Acting like an animal. It feels sometimes like all I have is more downturns. More hurting people. More hurting myself. And I’m so, so fucking tired… and I don’t wanna do this anymore. If this is how it is, I don’t want to… be.” Your voice stops making any noise by the time you reach the end of that.
HALF-LIGHT — And then there’s silence. You know this silence. It’s the sound of someone deciding they’re sick of your shit. This is the moment he realizes he really, truly does not know you and you don’t know him. And he knows he has to get out of here, before you take him down with you, like you’ve done to so many others. EMPATHY — But then there’s a hard pat on your back. Thumping against a hollow drum, ringing through your electrified lungs. KIM KITSURAGI — “It’s okay, detective.” PERCEPTION — His voice is soft and careful.
KIM KITSURAGI — “Honestly, it’s astonishing you’ve held out this long. It’s barely been two months since Martinaise. Since the Whirling. Throughout my time in the RCM, I have seen many good officers break over less. I didn’t know you before March. I don’t really know what kind of officer you might’ve been before that. But who I am familiar with is the Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor Harrier Du Bois, the officer I met two months ago, who is probably the strangest man I’ve ever met, but he is also the most relentless, the most stubborn, the most annoying, and honestly, the most sincere man I’ve ever known to grace the RCM. He is a man who cares enough to find the time in his busy workload to help people he just met, whose troubles he sniffs out like a bloodhound, offering them the help that no one else would. No matter how trivial, or how complicated. I don’t know if this selflessness is something you picked up because you don’t know how to help yourself, but I do know there’s a real effort in there. There’s a real, true love for the people of Revachol. And I know how much this job takes out of people. You can’t turn every mistake around in just a few months. Probably not even a few years. But I think what matters is that you are trying, and I can see how much it hurts you to feel like you’ve failed in that. Please don’t think that tonight is a sign that you can’t do better. Tonight is a dam breaking in the expectations you’ve built up for yourself after staring down your own potential.”
PERCEPTION — Are you laughing? Or is that crying? INLAND EMPIRE — It feels like there are ghosts escaping your every breath. Like parts of you are desperately rushing to the surface, tearing through flesh and bone, clawing at a chance for freedom. The lieutenant’s arm still rests heavily on your back, the only anchor your spirit has left as it dissipates into vapor and rushes through the night.
VOLITION — You cry until there’s nothing left in you anymore.
YOU — After a little while, your voice finally returns. “Why are you so nice to me?” KIM KITSURAGI — He takes a long pause and leans back in his chair. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just stubborn too.” PERCEPTION — You turn to look at him as you finally untangle yourself from your chrysalis of arms, and he looks different somehow. You don’t know if it’s your eyes being sore as hell, or the dull ambiance of the hazy bar lights. Somehow, he looks so light. His bomber jacket is slightly pulled up by his folded arms behind his head, seeming to break the bulky illusion it usually projects over his slim torso. Like suddenly seeing a gap in a suit of armor. SUGGESTION — You should tickle him. ESPRIT DE CORPS — He will kill you in mere seconds if you do that.
KIM KITSURAGI — After a moment, he realizes you’re staring at him, then adjusts in his seat, leaning forward and settling his arms in front of him. “How are you feeling? Do you think you can walk?” YOU — “I uhh... probably. My leg doesn’t hurt as much right now.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Mm.” He mutters, getting up from his seat. “At least there is that small grace. How far is your place?” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You’re pretty sure he’s offering to walk you back. You’re not a child, you can get home perfectly fine on your own, thank you. YOU — “Ten blocks.” COMPOSURE — You quickly try to rise to your feet, but it becomes immediately apparent that the floor has been replaced with a rickety old carousel, and you promptly lose your footing. REACTION SPEED — Before you can even attempt to figure out what is happening, you realize that Lieutenant Kitsuragi has wrapped one of his arms around your back. PERCEPTION — His grip is tight and you can feel the muscles tensing in his forearm against your back. Once again, its presence stabilizes you, a beacon for your twisting senses to converge upon. It takes a few moments for everything to slot back into the correct place. KIM KITSURAGI — “Are you sure you’re alright, detective?” DRAMA — His concern is quite sincere. YOU — “I just gotta sleep this off.” You say as you steady yourself back upright.
KIM KITSURAGI — “Let’s get going, then.” He nods to you as he zips up his jacket again, then stretches his right arm out behind your back. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — No, dude, fuck that shit, you’re sick of people propping you up because of your stupid leg, we can do this shit on our own! YOU — “Thanks.” You steady yourself against his arm and extend your left against his back as well. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Hey, what! DRAMA — By now, the lieutenant knows when you’re just trying to bullshit and act like a tough guy. It’s time to drop the act, for now. He knows you need the help. You wouldn’t have called him if you didn’t.
CONCEPTUALIZATION — That’s all I got. The rest is just black. YOU — Ugghhhhhh damn it. Like Kim hasn’t seen enough of me making an ass of myself by now. EMPATHY — On the bright side, his mental image of you can probably only improve. Hopefully. Maybe. YOU — Whatever. What time is it? PERCEPTION — You look around for your alarm clock, and find it knocked onto the floor beside your bed. It says 9:53. YOU — Shit. Did I have work today? ESPRIT DE CORPS — No. Your hours have been temporarily reduced during your recovery period. YOU — Right. Okay. I should probably get up and do something about this headache.
You throw the blanket off of your body and gradually roll yourself out of bed, bones creaking with aches and pains, limping across the room and dodging various discarded clothes and shoes that litter the floor. You twist the doorknob and open your bedroom door, making your way across the living room, towards the bathroom.
REACTION SPEED — Wait! There’s someone… on the couch? PERCEPTION — A figure of a man lies on the couch, covered with an ugly patchwork blanket, still sleeping. Next to the couch, an orange bomber jacket rests. Wait… is that Kim? HALF-LIGHT — OH MY GOD, you’re half-naked, GET BACK IN YOUR ROOM AND PUT YOUR PANTS ON BEFORE YOU HUMILIATE YOURSELF. SAVOIR FAIRE — You quickly backpedal, trying not to make any noise, and press your door shut firmly, hoping that you weren’t noticed. YOU — Why is he here??? I thought he just walked me home? HALF-LIGHT — Stop thinking and get your damn armor on! VOLITION — Armor? We didn’t find any armor pants in Martinaise. DRAMA — He’s being metaphorical. You hurriedly stuff your legs into the closest pair of semi-clean trousers before peeking out the door again.
PERCEPTION — The lieutenant is still asleep on the couch. SAVOIR FAIRE — Alright, go time. You sneak through the living room and into the bathroom, carefully trying not to creak the medicine cabinet as you get yourself some painkillers. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Down the whole bottle! Party time! VOLITION — No. We are not doing that.
After taking the recommended dose of painkillers, you peek out into the living room again. PERCEPTION — Lieutenant Kitsuragi is still resting quietly on your couch, lying on his back, tightly wrapped in the ugly spare blanket from your linen closet. You suddenly realize there’s something different about the living room… such as, there’s less garbage everywhere. EMPATHY — Did he clean the room up for you? Or maybe for himself?
You exit the bathroom and slowly cross the living room, stopping halfway through, looking at the lieutenant again. PERCEPTION — He looks peaceful, and his face relaxed and still. With his glasses off, you notice more of the shape of his brow and his tired eyes. His breathing is slow and measured, with quiet sighs. One of his arms dangles out from under the blanket, his hand just barely off the floor. His fingers are thin, bony, weathered from work, with little scars and blemishes that have mostly faded away.
SUGGESTION — Hold it.
YOU — What?
No one replies. You stare for a moment, feeling a tension in your chest. Curiosity snakes through your skin. You step closer towards the couch, then slowly crouch down, meeting the lieutenant’s eye level.
SUGGESTION — Hold it. Please.
You reach forward, and the lieutenant suddenly stirs.
KIM KITSURAGI — “Mmnh…” His eyes flutter open. “Oh, good morning detective.” YOU — “Uh, yeah. Good morning.” You casually withdraw your hand and rest it on your leg. “Why are you here…?” KIM KITSURAGI — “You don’t remember?” He asks with a hint of concern. YOU — “Well, mostly. I remember you helped me walk home, but after that, it’s fuzzy.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Ah, so just the normal amount of alcohol-induced forgetfulness.” The lieutenant nods at you, then sits up on the couch. He reaches for his glasses on the side table, then folds them open. “I decided to stay here on the couch, just in case...” He trails off. EMPATHY — To keep an eye on you. In case you started doing worse.
YOU — “...Thanks. I’m sorry for interrupting your night.” KIM KITSURAGI — “No need to apologize,” he says with a slight smile. “Honesty, I’m… glad you asked for help instead of isolating yourself. That would have been…” He pauses, looking for the correct words. “Not ideal. What time is it, anyway?” YOU — “Bit after 10.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Already that late? Good thing I’m not working today.”
YOU — “Sorry to make you clean up after me.” You say, glancing across the room. KIM KITSURAGI — “Well, no, it’s not your fault or anything. You didn’t expect company.” He seems a bit self-conscious suddenly, looking away. “I suppose it’s more like I don’t know how to leave a mess alone.” SUGGESTION — You’re not sure which mess he means—the apartment, or you. EMPATHY — It’s both. You feel a slight embarrassment tingling across the surface of your skin and decide to change the topic.
YOU — “You said you have the day off?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Yes, I have a few errands to run, part of some loose ends to clean up for my transfer to 41. But I can get those done any time during the day.” SUGGESTION — You should— YOU — “Do you wanna go get breakfast? I know a good place down the street.” You say it before you can even finish thinking. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant sits quietly for a moment, adjusting his glasses. “Hmmm… sure, why the hell not. I’ve got some time to spare.” SUGGESTION — Jackpot! YOU — “I’m gonna go get dressed, you’re welcome to the bathroom if you need it.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Sounds good.”
You walk into your bedroom and shut the door behind you. 
CONCEPTUALIZATION — Time to get stylish! LOGIC — Not that stylish, it’s just breakfast. Don’t make it weird. INLAND EMPIRE — Hey, weird is our thing! YOU — I think I’m just gonna wear whatever’s clean and doesn’t smell repulsive. CONCEPTUALIZATION — Oh, sorry, didn’t know we were Boring Cop today.
After taking a quick glance at what’s available, you decide to just go with a simple, pastel gingham button-up and a fresh pair of jeans. Glancing at your coats, you grab a blue blazer with a checkered lining.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Oh my god you look like a nerd. RHETORIC — No, he looks smart. Ready to have a battle of the wits. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Yeah, like I said, A NERD!
You quietly ignore the high school bullying going on inside your head as you exit the room. Lieutenant Kitsuragi glances at you from next to the couch, in the middle of putting on his jacket.
KIM KITSURAGI — “No disco today?” He says with a slight smile. YOU — “All my disco’s due for the wash.” KIM KITSURAGI — He tugs at his collar and settles his jacket into place. “It’s almost odd to see you in something so… tame.” YOU — “I mean, I still got the jackets from Fuck the World and Piss F****t if you change your mind.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Somehow I doubt the waitstaff would be understanding of the artist’s statements at breakfast.” He lets out a small chuckle. EMPATHY — There’s a surprising softness in his response. KIM KITSURAGI — “I’m all set to go if you are.”
The two of you head out of your apartment and set out down the road, your destination just two blocks away. The streets of Jamrock are already lively with pedestrians and motor carriages milling about. Before long, you arrive at a staircase with a weathered, striped canopy hanging above, quietly announcing its presence with simple text saying “The Lazy Daisy”. You and the lieutenant head down the stairs and enter the little eatery, pushing past the door and being met with the sweet and salty smells of this morning’s meals. You wave to the waitress and take a seat at a little table in the corner.
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant takes his seat across from you, his eyes studying the surroundings. “You know, I never noticed this place before.” YOU — “Yeah, it’s easy to miss amongst all the other businesses on this road.” KIM KITSURAGI — “But you remembered it?” YOU — “I think my feet did.”
WAITRESS — A cheerful, pudgy woman in her forties wearing a striped apron walks over to the table, little menu books in hand. “Good morning officers! Thanks for stopping by the Lazy Daisy today. Can I get you something to drink while you look over the menu?”
YOU — “You wanna get a pot of coffee, Kim?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Sure, that sounds fine.” WAITRESS — “Alright, I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu!”
You already know what you’re going to order: skillet hash with a side of toast. You watch the lieutenant look the menu over and find yourself wondering what he’ll order. YOU — “You seem like an Eggs Benedict kind of guy to me.” KIM KITSURAGI — “I was thinking about trying this malted waffle actually. It’s been a while since I had a good waffle.” He replies, not looking up from the menu. “But you are correct, I do enjoy a good Eggs Benedict.”
YOU — “Can’t go wrong with either one.” WAITRESS — The waitress returns, a full pot of coffee in one hand and two mugs in the other. She gently places the pot of coffee at the center of the little table and places the mugs down on either side. “Alright, so what can I get for you boys?” YOU — “I’ll go for the skillet hash with a side of dry toast. And the lieutenant here…” KIM KITSURAGI — “I’ll take a malted waffle with a side of bacon.” WAITRESS — “Sounds great! I’ll bring it out when it’s ready.”
You turn your attention to the coffee and partially fill both of the mugs, absent-mindedly adding a sugar cube and a little cup of half-and-half to yours and stirring, watching the color spread and blend. You look up and notice the lieutenant surveying the restaurant again.
KIM KITSURAGI — “Hmmm… yes, this place certainly seems your style.” YOU — “What, sad and old?” KIM KITSURAGI — He smiles slightly, but his brow betrays his discomfort. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of… eclectic, stubborn, lively.” He glances at the walls covered in various posters, art, and rock and roll memorabilia. YOU — “Disco.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Disco.” He nods affirmatively.
You absently stir your coffee and lift it to your mouth to take a sip, mulling over topics of conversation. RHETORIC — Go for a standard sort of icebreaker, what’s the latest with him, that sort of thing. ESPRIT DE CORPS — Let’s talk work. Trade some gritty case stories with him! INTERFACING — Maybe you could talk torque dork to torque dork? EMPATHY — Neither of you have motor carriages right now. That would just be a bummer. INLAND EMPIRE — Ask him to tell you a secret! AUTHORITY — That one never works.
YOU — “You just moved into your new place, right Kim? How is it?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Hmm, it’s not bad. I had to make a few concessions but… there’s a bit more floor space than my last place. I finally have a good space for a proper desk.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Now the only trouble is getting a desk up three flights of stairs.”
YOU — “I can lend you a hand with that if you want. I have reason to suspect I may be a former gym teacher.” PERCEPTION — You can’t really hear it, but judging by the steam rolling away from the mug at his lips, you can tell the lieutenant let a light chuckle out through his nose before taking another sip of coffee.
KIM KITSURAGI — “Maybe I’ll take you up on that when I find something suitable.” RHETORIC — Great job! Look at you! You’re so good at talking like a normal person!
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant casually withdraws his notebook from his jacket and starts perusing it while he slowly sips his coffee. YOU — “Hey, no working until we’ve had breakfast.” KIM KITSURAGI — He barely moves, glancing upwards at you and cocking an eyebrow. AUTHORITY — It’s fine, that brow is only operating at about 25% capacity. You got this. YOU — “Take a break, lieutenant.” You place your hand on top of his, gently encouraging him to lower the notebook onto the table. He nonchalantly relents, quickly withdrawing his hand and tucking it under his other arm, which rests casually on the table. His glance wanders away from you and out towards the windows. EMPATHY — It’s hard to tell if he’s annoyed or just playing up indifference. Perhaps you shouldn’t have grabbed his hand like that.
You take a moment to look around the restaurant, passively taking in the surroundings that feel intensely familiar to your instincts, but strangely recent to the rest of you. It’s a weird feeling, one you’ve been experiencing just about everywhere you go in Jamrock. Places that you know but have never seen. Drifting shadows of the person you once were, and still are, half-buried in a haze. Your head fluctuates in the pressure, a mix of pristine images just out of reach and faint illusions gripped tightly in your palm.
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant’s low voice suddenly pulls you back to reality. “Everything alright, detective?” INLAND EMPIRE — There is a hole in my brain. YOU — “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about the usual.” You pause, contemplating your next words. “Grinding the bourgeoisie into sausage for the proletariat and whatnot,” you lie. KIM KITSURAGI — “Ah, so nice of you to join us, Comrade Mazov.” YOU — You quickly bust out your trusty finger guns and fire off two shots, clicking your tongue as you snap your fingers. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant is unphased by your reckless discharge of live rounds that undoubtedly rain chaos upon the once peaceful restaurant. DRAMA — C’mon, he probably thinks it’s at least a little cool. EMPATHY — It’s not, man.
RHETORIC — Let’s get back to the list. What else can we talk about? YOU — “Tell me a secret about yourself.” KIM KITSURAGI — He sighs. “This again?” YOU — “You know it.” KIM KITSURAGI — He pauses for a moment. “No.” YOU — “Aww, come on.” KIM KITSURAGI — He raises one eyebrow. AUTHORITY — Oh god, we have full capacity brow-raising. I repeat, full capacity!
KIM KITSURAGI — His brow lowers slightly, offering a challenge. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets. Maybe if you can think of a single piece of personal trivia you haven’t already divulged entirely unprompted to any random passerby, we can come back to this topic.” ESPRIT DE CORPS — He does not believe that his terms can be met. He is secure in that. SUGGESTION — Challenge accepted! YOU — “Deal.” DRAMA — You’re gonna need to work on this for like, at least 8 hours probably. Maybe more like 20.
WAITRESS — The same woman reappears with a tray in hand, radiating the unmistakable smell of hot, fresh breakfast. “Here you are, sirs!” She gently slides the plates in front of each of you. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need! Enjoy your food!” PERCEPTION — You notice the name on her apron: Denice. YOU — “Thanks, Denice.” WAITRESS — She offers a polite smile before leaving.
You immediately start digging in, shoveling the mixed bits of potato, egg, bacon, and cheese into your mouth, savoring the salt and fat of a hearty breakfast. It’s your favorite meal, but you don’t always have the time or energy to get anything decent most mornings.
SUGGESTION — Hey, I just had a great idea! Offer Kim some of this shit. YOU — You finish the bite you have in your mouth quickly. “Hey, Kim, you wanna try some of mine?” KIM KITSURAGI — He blinks. “No, thank you. I’ve got plenty here.” He looks down at the colossal waffle on his plate, barely dented. YOU — “Yeah but this is like, stupid good. I’ll even let you have some egg yolk.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Very generous of you.” He smirks, then studies your plate for a moment. “Hm… sure, why not.”
You slide your plate a bit closer to him. He holds his fork up, surveying for the ideal sample size. Then, he strikes, claiming an entire egg for himself.
YOU — “Woooow.” You feign offence. KIM KITSURAGI — “Sorry, detective. I’ll need to confiscate this. I believe it may be connected to a case I’m working on.” He tries to keep a straight face but the corner of his mouth is slightly turned upwards. In seconds, he files the evidence into his mouth and promptly destroys it.
YOU — “Can’t believe the corruption I am witnessing here.” In a counter-attack, you jab your fork into one of the untouched corners of the lieutenant’s waffle. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant stabs his knife down across from your fork, as if ready to engage in combat. He stares you down, brows furrowed with the illusion of authority. “Detective, I would tread carefully if I were you. You have entered enemy territory, and I have the high ground.”
PERCEPTION — You can feel your face turning red in the heat of the incredibly stupid breakfast battle you have entered. AUTHORITY — Do it! Let loose the dogs of war! Get that fucking waffle! KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant narrows his eyes at you, his concentration unwavering. The authority levels are building in his brow. They are charged to 50% capacity. DRAMA — I have an idea, sire.
YOU — You relax back in your seat, looking behind Kim. “Oh, hey Captain Pryce, here to enjoy the best breakfast in Central Jamrock?” KIM KITSURAGI — He quickly turns his head to look behind him. SAVOIR FAIRE — In an instant, you slice a corner of the waffle free from Kim’s plate, casually sliding it onto yours. KIM KITSURAGI — Realizing the feint, he snaps his attention back to you, glaring.
YOU — You pull your plate back, then pick up your mug, gesturing towards the lieutenant with a slight smirk. “Truce?” KIM KITSURAGI — Studying you for a moment, he reluctantly picks up his mug and clinks it against yours. “For now.”
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