#what we were told is considerably pretty heavy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eqt-95 · 4 months

Text

a new kind of romance, finale

part 8 | new years

🥟 | dumplings

Kara was not having a good time.

Sure, she loved her job. Yes, she adored her staff. Absolutely, she found her role as editor-in-chief worthwhile and world-saving in its own way.

But today was a holiday and her staff was absent and her role as editor-in-chief was only kind of worthwhile given they’d gone to print three days earlier.

Today was a day meant to be surrounded by friends, new beginnings, and maybe the slightest tinge of a hangover nursed by a staggering stack of Danvers world-famous pancakes.

It was a day to slip into cozy sweats; an evening unburdened by Supergirl duties or an upcoming deadline; a series of uninterrupted hours where she could collapse onto her couch, bask in the blue glow of her television after consuming far too much post-brunch take-out, and, if she played her cards right, idly massaging the too-tight calves of her very best friend who was stretched out across her lap.

The tips of her fingers crawled between her glasses and face and pressed with a heavy sigh against her eyes because today was not one of those days. Kara wondered if she’d ever have one of those days again.

Not the blue glow or take-out or cozy sweats: those were always within reach. It was the best friend she wasn’t quite sure about.

Because things were kind of different now. Things were weird and awkward, and Kara didn’t know if it was her or them. Either way, she was one supersuit short of feeling brave enough to do anything about it.

So she was at work. On a holiday.

“You know,” came a voice that nearly sent Kara flying into the next floor, “when Alex told me you were skipping New Year's brunch, I almost didn't believe her.”

“Lena,” Kara choked. She looked up and locked eyes with a very soft, very pretty, very smirking Lena Luthor and felt a rush of weird and awkward all over again. “I didn't, uh, hi.”

“Must be important work,” Lena replied, nodding toward the glasses propped on Kara's nose. They'd been a gift earlier that summer: improved and Lena-Luthor-approved to cut out even more noise and distraction than her last pair.

“Just… just wanted to focus,” Kara replied.

“On next month’s issue?”

“Never too early to get ahead,” Kara offered lamely.

“Well, is it too early for lunch?” Lena asked, lifting a plastic bag overflowing with take-out containers.

“I thought that was my job,” Kara said, eyeing the strained bag and feeling her stomach betray her with an oversized growl.

“Sometimes even heroes need saving,” Lena chuckled, setting the bag onto Kara’s overflowing desk. “And I’m very good at giving.”

The tease, the flick of an eyebrow, and the confident smirk would have normally sent Kara’s cheeks on fire and stumbling for words and trying very hard to keep strictly platonic, best-friend thoughts at the forefront of her mind, but today was not one of those days.

“Mhm,” Kara said with a labored smile and a strained chuckle and a fiddle with her glasses.

Because today was awkward and weird-feeling just like every day since cuddles didn’t feel like something just best friends did.

Lena, ever astute and thoughtful and considerate, noticed the wave of discomfort radiating from Kara, and for that Kara winced even more.

“Are… are we ok?” Lena asked, fingers playing with the edge of her sleeves. It was the exact opposite of the teasing confidence spoken moments earlier; this came out shy and hesitant.

“Sure,” Kara replied automatically in a way that sounded forced, sounded fake, sounded like a lie. Because it was. It was, and Lena knew it.

“Ok,” she nodded back, and that made it feel worse. Because Kara knew that Lena knew. “Well, I just wanted to drop this off-”

“Stay,” Kara rushed. “Uhm, please? Please stay?”

What followed wasn’t the most awkward lunch Kara had ever had, but it sure was close. Conversation lagged and Kara, lost in the labyrinth of thoughts and doubts and concerns that had played on repeat for no less than two weeks rattled around louder and louder and -

Kara blinked, realizing she’d missed whatever Lena just said. And Lena noticed but, with generous tact, looked down and quietly poked at her food and gosh this was going terribly.

“I’m sorry,” Kara said unprompted. “I’ve been distracted and… and it’s not fair to you. You skipped brunch and brought all of this delicious food and I’ve been terrible company and a bad f-friend,” she said, her throat choking around the last word.

And then a smile flashed across her best friend’s face. It was tiny and wistful. “You could never be, darling.”

And it made Kara’s stomach flutter and twist. It made it flutter and twist, and Kara clung to the tiny thread for dear life and jumped.

“Do you, uh… do you want one?”

“You’re offering me a potsticker?” Lena asked, the faintest tone of disbelief at the chopsticks floating in front of her with a perfectly pan-fried dumpling pinched between them.

Kara nodded, her outstretched, chopstick-holding hand shaking in a very unhero-like way.

And she only barely managed to snatch it, her chopsticks, and the floating potsticker back in time when Lena’s hand rose to meet the literal best pillow of food on the entire planet.

“You can’t use your hands,” Kara said - yelled - and then silently begged the earth to split open and swallow her whole.

“I… I can’t?” Lena asked, hand flinching back in surprise.

“We… there uhm, there aren’t any napkins,” Kara explained like a lying four-year-old.

Because there absolutely were napkins.

In plain sight.

Directly next to Kara’s half-eaten egg roll.

Before Lena could challenge the blatantly bizarre lie with her confused scowl and keen, impossibly brilliant, and scientifically perfect observation skills, Kara blindly rambled ahead while her elbow did the inelegant task of plopping across the desk onto the stack of said napkins.

“And these are, uh, greasy? Greasy,” Kara continued, sliding her elbow with the subtlety of a firework to the edge of her desk and, just as subtly, knocking the napkins to the floor.

“Greasy,” Lena parroted, eyes distracted by Kara’s elbow’s antics.

“I-in a good way,” Kara clarified. The moment was only briefly interrupted by the squeak of her chair rolling to the left.

To cover the stack of napkins.

The napkins which were definitely there.

“I wouldn’t offer one if they were bad, but since we don’t have napkins then,” Kara explained, “then you’d need to- to…uhm.”

“To what?” Lena pressed.

“To… wipe them on your shirt?” Kara finished feeling mortified and like the most incapable alien on the planet.

Which was why, when Lena’s head tilted to the side and her gaze fell to where the napkins were most definitely scattered around on the ground then darted back to Kara’s and sparkled in that special way, Kara felt her heart swell and her stomach flutter just a little bit more.

“Well,” Lena began, leaning forward with the focus of a predator, “we can’t have that.”

And Kara, the weakest, most inept prey in a five hundred-mile radius swallowed against the parchment that had become her throat, shook her head weakly, and kept the freefall going.

And it might have been something.

Could have been something.

Was nearly something.

Lena was hovering forward.

Lips parted.

Eyes locked on Kara’s.

Which was exactly when Kara’s big giant nerves took over and sent her chopsticks splintering and the potsticker slipping out of her grasp with all the grace of Flubber before zipping across the office to land with an unceremonious splat against the glass partition.

All of which turned that ‘near something’ into one giant ‘swing and miss'.

But before Kara could articulate her feelings as ‘mortified’ and ‘crestfallen’ and ‘like a giant himbo’, Lena burst out into the kind of bright laughter that made her dimples show and smile beam and Kara wonder if how they were was enough.

Because this could be fine.

They could be fine.

So distracted was Kara that she didn’t notice Lena swipe the last, un-splatted potsticker from Kara’s plate, and she definitely didn’t process when Lena, ever so casually, asked Kara for a napkin to wipe her fingers off, and she was lightyears from self-awareness when she automatically snatched one from the floor.

That’s how lunch continued and ended: with Lena smiling her special smile and Kara lost in a sort of daze, inhaling the spread of options Lena brought.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” Lena said when the final remnants of lo mein were polished off. “Can’t have Cat Grant accusing me of derailing her Editor-in-Chief.”

“Oh, ok,” Kara said, rising to join Lena and crashing back to earth while simultaneously knocking her knee against the desk and sending a stack of proofs sliding like Niagra Falls to the floor.

“No, no, I’ve got this,” Kara said, waving Lena away. She clambered around the desk and intercepted her with a bashful grin and outstretched arms. They wrapped comfortably around Lena like they always did, and it made her feel all tiny sorts of warm and happy.

This could be fine.

“Thanks for lunch,” she muttered into the side of Lena’s head.

“What are friends for?” Lena said, hands falling to Kara’s upper arms and disarming Kara with a practiced smile.

Kara nodded, her own smile feeling tight and confused.

It faltered only slightly when the door clicked shut and she crouched to pick up the disheveled proofs.

This could be fine.

Kara could be totally normal and cool and collected, and Lena could be her usual pretty and perfect and kind and thoughtful self. And everything could be great and par for the course and completely and totally…

Normal.

Kara rolled back onto her heels and pondered that thought: normal. She pondered and pondered some more. A whole minute passed while the idea braised in her brain, and it kind of didn’t sit right.

It didn’t sit right one bit.

And then the most obvious thing on the whole giant existence of everything occurred - no, re-occurred: Kara didn’t want normal. She definitely didn’t want to go back to normal. She wanted the opposite of normal. In fact, she didn’t want normal for another second of her whole entire life.

Unless that not-normal was Lena hating her guts for the rest of eternity. That was not a not-normal Kara had the stomach for, but before she could let that worry petrify her from action, she jumped to her feet and clambered toward the stairwell.

It took only a second; a perfectly timed second that synchronized with the elevator doors opening and Kara’s very best friend appearing in the ground floor lobby.

“Kara,” Lena said, jumping at what was probably a borderline crazed expression on Kara’s face when two muscular arms spread across the elevator’s threshold, blocking Lena’s exit. “Wha-”

“Mistletoe magic,” Kara stammered inelegantly.

“Mistletoe-?” Lena began, her surprise turning to a flash of hurt.

“With you,” Kara clarified. “I wanted… I wanted mistletoe magic with you.”

“With… me?” Lena asked slowly, cautiously - nervously.

“I wanted… I wanted you - want you. I didn’t mean to, you know,” Kara clarified poorly, “but then I got so nervous. And then Andrea was there and, and I just… I thought you didn’t want it. And maybe you don’t which is - that’s fine, but I can’t stop thinking that maybe you do? Because I do. I really do and, and when you… with the frosting? And the dress? You were just so, so… Rao. And you’re so so brilliant and kind and my best friend-”

“Me too.”

“- and I don’t want to ruin any… any…thing,” Kara trailed off, the tiny echo of Lena’s confession rattling in her ears. “What?”

Then something even louder started rattling in Kara’s ears because her rambling had gone on long enough to trigger the lift’s alarm.

Then came a tug against Kara’s shirt.

Then Kara felt herself being pulled into the lift.

Then she felt the warmth breath against her cheek.

“I wanted mistletoe magic with you, too.”

“R-really?” Kara asked, her eyes darting down to Lena’s perfectly painted lips.

“Really.”

“Like…” Kara continued, glancing back up to double check Lena’s eyes were serious. “Like real-”

They were. They were dead serious. And Kara registered it only a millisecond before Lena’s lips cut off what was definitely going to be another babble-fest. Lena’s lips cut her off and all of her thoughts and words disappeared and instead every sense was engulfed by soft, warm, gentle and - oh wowsers.

“Like really, really,” Lena whispered before the elevator lurched upward and before Kara could register the sparks of gold magic and green leaves flickering above them and before recapturing Kara’s mouth and setting fire to Kara’s core.

// sixty-three floors later //

“So, you liked the dress?” Lena asked.

- - - - - - -

ko-fi and other ao3 reads

#happy new year!#posted late because no one told me about the petri dish of disease swimming in my nephew's drool when he babied all over me #new romances #finale #supercorp #supercorp ficlet #kara danvers #lena luthor

219 notes · View notes

theemporium · 11 months

Note

Sirius x fem!reader where she gets stood up for a date so he comes to the rescue. Lots of fluff please!! thanks

thank you for requesting!🖤

You had never felt humiliation quite like this.

It has taken a lot from you to accept the date in the first place. Pep talks from your friends who were eager to push your limits, for you to try something new rather than staying in the shell you usually kept yourself locked away in.

Even as you were getting ready for the date, it took everything within you to hype yourself up. You were seconds away from calling it all off and hiding away in your bed until the anxiety bubbling in the pit of your stomach disappeared.

But you told yourself your friends were right, that you needed to step out of your comfort zone even if it meant spending the whole walk to Hogsmeade feeling like you wanted to spew your guts out.

You reached the pub ten minutes early—just as you planned—to scope out a decent seat with a direct view of all your escape routes. You settled down, ordered a drink and let the minutes pass by until your meeting time.

However, the minutes passed and time went on, and every time the door to the pub opened, it was everyone but your date’s face walking through the door.

The embarrassment settled deep inside you after five minutes passed. It only grew when you hit the fifteen minute mark, and by thirty minutes you were wondering why you hadn’t just packed your stuff and ram off by now. Though, you supposed, the embarrassment of leaving and everyone knowing you had been stood up was worse than being stood up itself.

Yet just as you were seconds away from forcing yourself to make a beeline towards the door, a body slid into the booth next to you and a heavy arm was placed around your shoulders.

“Sorry I’m late, love, detention ran over.”

Your eyes lifted to catch the gaze of none other than Sirius Black.

Now, you knew Sirius in the sense that everyone in the school knew Sirius Black. He was a quarter of the infamous marauders. He was a scoundrel who was constantly up to no good that his charming looks tended to get him out of. You even shared a few classes with him, spent all of third year sat next to him during Transfiguration.

But you didn’t really know Sirius Black.

Hell, you weren’t even convinced he knew your name.

“Uh—” you opened your mouth to reply, to say something, only for Sirius Black to render you speechless for a second time in the last thirty seconds as he leaned down to press a chase kiss on your cheek, a little too close to the corner of your lips for someone who was considerably close to being a stranger to you.

“Minnie decided to be finicky tonight,” he continued to ramble on, not even acknowledging the way you were gaping at him. “Even when I told her I had a hot date waiting for me.”

Your brows furrowed together. “What?”

“Something wrong, darling?” he asked so innocently as though there wasn’t an amused gleam in his eyes. The pet names were distracting enough, you didn’t need to throw his pretty eyes into the mix.

You dropped your voice to a whisper, the confusion still clear on your face. “What are you doing?”

“I just told you,” Sirius said with a grin. “I’m on a hot date.”

“I–” But you cut yourself off, unsure what you even wanted to say to the boy.

“Listen, I was chilling with some mates and saw a pretty girl sitting here by herself,” he said in a softer voice, a little quieter too so the nosy patrons around you couldn’t catch a word. “So tough luck to the stupid bastard who didn’t show up, but his loss is my win.”

You blinked. “So…this isn’t a pity rescue?”

Sirius’ smile softened a little as he shook his head. “Look, if you don’t wanna be here then I will happily walk you out so you can head back to the castle.”

“Or?”

He tried to bite back the way his grin instantly widened, the arm around your shoulder tightening a little. “Or you stay and we have a drink, and I show you what a real date looks like.”

“You are not what I expected you to be, Sirius Black,” you murmured thoughtfully as you stared at the gorgeous boy. Less than five minutes with him and all the expectations you had of him were nowhere near accurate.

“That tends to happen when you ignore me for a whole year during Transfiguration,” he retorted with a chuckle.

Your eyes widened a little, unsure if it was shock that he remembered you or the fact he wanted to talk to you at all.

“What? You think we were just sat together by chance?” he teased lightly, his fingers toying with the ends of your hair. “This isn’t the first time I saw a pretty girl sitting alone at a table and tried to take my chances.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you found yourself thanking whatever stupid reason your date stood you up for. Not that you cared, not in a single way because Sirius Black did just as he said he would.

He showed you what a real damn date looked like and it was just one of many.

601 notes · View notes

onlyswan · 2 years

Text

summary: in which jungkook stumbles with his new pair of eyes.

> fluff (they’re just so cute okay) / wc: 2.8k

> warnings: jk mentions something about getting slapped in a sexy way he’s a menace that’s all

note: let me just get all my thoughts about jungkook in glasses out from my system please bear with me thank you T__T funny enough my eyes were hurting and watering like crazy while proofreading this srry

—

“wow! this is what i’ve been missing out on?” jungkook muses in wonder as he comes face-to-face with one of your books he snatched from the center table.

he widens his eyes when he lowers down his glasses, and then blinks excessively when he puts it back on.

“my feet hurt like hell.” you complain as you plop down next to him on the couch, all cozy in your pajamas.

you spent half the day killing time by exploring every inch of the mall because you had to wait for both of your glasses to be done. you had one of your glasses’ lens changed because the scratches have been too bothering you too much, while jungkook finally got his first prescription glasses.

he has been complaining about his blurry vision for quite a while now, and he agreed that he should get it checked when you told him that it might get worse if he doesn’t as soon as possible. however, despite reminding him many times, the plan kept getting put off and pushed to the back of his mind.

when you informed him about your plans of going to the store to get your glasses fixed, at last, the inescapable opportunity for him to tag along has come.

“how is it? you don’t feel dizzy or anything?”

you watch him flip through the book sitting over his crossed legs, observing that he can read the small characters from a considerable distance without squinting unlike before. he has tried on your glasses a few times in the past, but generally, you don’t let him wear it because it might not be suitable for his eyes.

“no, not anymore atleast.”

he grimaces as he recounts himself almost tripping on his own feet when he was asked to walk around wearing the fourth lens the doctor made him try on. it made everything look five times nearer, and a heavy headache weighed on him in a snap. if he wore those for a minute longer, he would’ve thrown up.

why you refuse to let him wear your glasses for longer than a minute— that’s when it fully dawned on him.

“baby, thank you for always protecting me.” he engulfed you in a tight hug as soon as he exited the small room.

“from what?” you squeaked in confusion, unsure hands rubbing his back. “do i need to fight someone for you?”

you chuckle at his displeased expression. “that’s good. you should always wear it so you get used to it, okay?”

“so i won’t be able to live without it like you?”

he smiles with his nose scrunched, turning his head to look at you. he gasps dramatically, and you tilt your head in question.

“i thought it was impossible for you to get even prettier in my eyes. but look at you!” he gently pinches your cheeks, and it takes everything in you to hold back a love drunk smile.

“i’m pretty?”

he leans in for a kiss, “divine. it’s like getting so near a painting you can see the brush strokes.” but then halts a few inches away from your lips. “guess we can’t do this when we’re both wearing glasses.”

it’s almost embarrassing; how you’ve shared about a million kisses with jungkook, and yet, you’re still holding your breath like this is about to be the first time you feel a man’s lips on yours.

“i’m not wearing mine, though?”

the thud of your book colliding with the table before it fell on carpeted floor would make you angry, but jungkook rudely interrupts before your train of thought could glide along the tracks, kissing off the anger from your mouth before you can nag at him.

frisky boy, trying to leave permanent marks on his glasses on the first day.

he pulls away with a pondering look, chewing on his bottom lip. “this is too big. i should get the same frame as yours. i’m already used to kissing with that between us.”

you sigh deeply, tucking his hair behind ears to get a good look at your boyfriend’s face. is jungkook wearing prescribed glasses one of your untold fantasies? maybe. not that you’re rejoicing that he fucked up his vision but . . . maybe.

in conclusion: men have their girlfriends walking fashion shows when shopping, and you have jungkook trying on thirty different pairs of glasses.

“hmm, not a bad idea. you do look good in those, too.”

he picks up his phone to check himself out through the front camera, messing around with his hair as an unshakable habit. “do you really like this one too?”

“i thought it was impossible for you to get even sexier in my eyes.”

“that much?” he unabashedly gives you a playful smirk, the familiar twinkle of his eyes lighting up the dim living room. he inches closer to wrap his arms around your waist, but his posture sags at your next words.

“nuh-uh.” you tut as your strict hands detain his forearms.

jungkook’s heart thunders upon seeing the expression you’re wearing, the kind that usually signals he’s about to hear excessive whining (said lovingly) and / or aggressive stomping against the floor (again, said lovingly). “before that, go pick up my book and pray to god that it didn’t get damaged.”

his head nervously cranes down to search for the book he thoughtlessly dropped earlier. he looks back at you with a guilty smile bordering on a wince, and everything that happens after that is a blur.

“please tell me there’s none-”

“a page got ripped! i’m sorry!”

he sprints towards your shared bedroom in a flash, and your hand that fails to pull him back drops to your side in exasperation when you hear the door slam shut. a click follows after several beats. flabbergasted, your jaw drops.

this man did not just . . .

“jungkook, you menace! you’re making me sleep on the couch?!”

“i love you! come to bed only if you want to slap me in a sexy way!”

you gasp, throwing a pillow at the door. you miss. miserably.

“are you into that now?!”

—

“how is yours not fogging up?” jungkook frowns at you from across the table, doe eyes hidden behind his fogged up glasses.

“your mask doesn’t fit perfectly. pinch the wire tighter around your nose bridge.” you chuckle, reaching over to help him out with his predicament. “like this much. that’s how you know you’re properly wearing it. if your glasses don’t fog up.”

the two of you watch as the fog gradually disappears from his lens.

“ohhhh. that was fun.” he takes the glasses off along with his face mask, satisfied that his problem was solved. “what if i’m wearing one that doesn’t have a nose wire, though?”

“you can still try pinching it around your nose, but usually it doesn’t work out well so you need to figure out wearing it in a certain angle.”

“should i just get contacts instead?” he looks at you with a hopeful smile, playfully teasing you with the idea you’ve disagreed with many times.

you raised the concern with jungkook constantly falling asleep wherever in the world he might be. yes, you love it when he falls asleep five minutes into cuddling you, be it you’re sitting or lying down. yes, he is an adorable sleeper. yes, you want him to get all the rest that he can. however, that becomes a problem if he starts using contact lens 24/7. especially if they’re clear or the same color as his eyes, you’re sure he’s bound to forget that he’s wearing them at some point.

“should we just get you new eyes instead?”

“come on now. that’d be too much money. you know how hard life is nowadays? the economy is going downhill!” he speaks with thick busan satoori, brazenly eyeing you up and down as if you just said the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

you pick up his glasses from the table to put it on him again. “that’s exactly why you should settle with what you have, mister.”

he laughs, and it’s the first time you see his bunny smile today. “alright, you got me.”

you thank the server after your food have been served on the table. these days, you and jungkook enjoy going out to eat instead of ordering in. it has been a mission to improve your food palate by exploring different dishes and cuisines. more than that, it seems that this is also a learning experience for your boyfriend. when he finds a new dish that he likes, he tries to make it in the kitchen himself when he finds the time. and well, you get to entertain yourself by poking around and acting like an assistant.

“baby, mine too. please.”

you shut off your eyewear case before reverting your attention to jungkook. alas, his glasses has fogged up again because of the spicy beef soup, which is still obviously piping hot. he is stuck in position, hand holding a spoon suspended in the air.

you never would’ve thought watching someone learn how to live with prescription glasses would be this engrossing. or maybe because it’s jungkook, and everything he does is endearing in your eyes.

you giggle at his cuteness, cautiously taking glasses off his face so he won’t spill the soup sitting on the curve of his spoon. you place it inside his case and keep it back inside your bag along with your own.

—

“baby! i feel blind! have you seen my glasses?” jungkook cries out as he enter the living room. “i even checked the car but it’s not there.”

you watch him walk nearer and nearer towards you, slowly chewing on the first bite off your hotteok. you’re sitting on the floor, and the task waiting to be accomplished on your laptop is left abandoned as you get distracted by a variety show on the television.

“which one?”

“our matching couple one.” he kneels beside you, a pout adorning his handsome face. “oh my god. maybe that’s mine you’re wearing?”

his gaze falls down on the pancake held by your hands, and it flickers back to your ingenuous eyes. this is an unspoken understanding between the two of you. and so, you take two bites in a row, twice as big as you normally would, mouth full and cheeks round. that’s when you offer the dessert to your boyfriend, nearly half eaten to expose the center, where most of the fillings would be.

he enthusiastically takes a bite from one side, moaning in satisfaction. “hmm, you can never go wrong with hotteok.”

you start pointing at the bedroom as you work your damn hardest to swallow the food.

“it’s at the-” you pause to take a sip from your glass of cold, turned room temperature, water. “the vanity drawer. i saw you put it there this morning while you were rushing.”

he scratches his head, fascinated with his own lack of thought. “should’ve asked you first before searching the entire building.”

“dummy-” you manage to utter before he’s guiding the hotteok back to your mouth. the sweetness of the brown sugar spreads in your mouth, balanced by the nuts and seeds.

“don’t say bad words, baby.”

you glare at him. “dummy.”

and he glares back. “brat.”

—

your attention returns to the television when jungkook leaves to pick up his glasses from the bedroom. the brightness of your laptop screen dims, signalling that the battery is dying soon. you click your tongue in annoyance. you reckon it’s understandable that it has been acting up since the device is already years old, but it annoys you nonetheless.

your boyfriend catches you in one of your not-so-finest moments. he looks straight at his front camera with a full grin while you furiously click ctrl and s on the keyboard over and over again, your glasses the original copy of his, sliding off your nose bridge. he has deemed it obligatory to take a selca every time you’re wearing the matching glasses together, and he still seems very much consistent with it two months later, so you just allow him to do it whether you’re aware or not. god knows how you’ve run out of poses.

a hotteok hanging from your lips? body language saying you’re about to throw away your laptop from the balcony? that’s new. that’s variety. that’s what makes jungkook unconsciously keep the smile on his face as he adds the photos to its designated folder, titled with the emoji wearing glasses and bunny teeth.

“is it just me or has that been for your lockscreen for more than a year now?”

he turns on his phone to take another look at his lockscreen, and he shrugs sheepishly. it’s a picture of the three of you on the couch: you, jungkook, and bam. it was a sunday afternoon. you fell asleep on your side, cuddling your boyfriend. baby bam, on the other hand, was cuddling your head. his paw resting on your cheek, head leaning on your ear. the only part of jungkook visible in the photo is his naked collarbones down to his tattoo sleeve, the rest of his torso being covered by a blanket.

“i know. i always end up coming back to it.”

this is one of your differences with him. you have a new lockscreen almost every week, immediately setting up whatever new photo you take of or with him.

jungkook, knowing this, asks: “what’s yours now?”

you pout your lips to point at the table. with your permission, he turns on your phone to see himself from yesterday— reversing the car with one hand on the wheel while looking over his shoulder.

he chuckles in amusement, raising his eyebrows. “this is the exact same picture as the last one you had.”

you stick out your tongue cheekily. “you’re wearing your glasses this time.”

—

magical pearls that grant wishes. you wished for an inflatable pool. the orange haired guy from slam dunk chasing you. running through the forest. scratches on your knee. a koala hanging on your arm. jungkook carrying you on his back to make a run for the bookstore. the signed book you wanted getting sold out twenty three seconds before you arrived. a tragedy.

you wake up with flashes of these broken up dreams lingering in your mind, lazily rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. you find that the clock says 4:17am. you climb off the bed, slipping onto your fuzzy slippers.

however, you pause on your journey to the bathroom when you notice an object shine from your peripheral vision. you sigh, and a yawn follows.

“this is what i was talking about.” you mutter softly, more to yourself, more to the airconditioner that sleeps during the day to keep you comfortable throughout the night.

you carefully remove the glasses off his face. before putting it away in the case, you inspect the temples to see if they became bent and uneven due to him lying on his side. thankfully, they survived just fine. you’re not quite sure if the back of his left ear did, though.

you step out of the bathroom, and it doesn’t come off as a surprise when you make eye contact with a half-asleep jungkook reaching out for you.

“come back.” he whines, voice small and scratched from sleep you almost don’t catch his words.

“on my way,” you respond in a sing-song voice. you slip back under the covers, caressing jungkook’s hair and tangling your limbs with his. you were apart for three minutes at most, but you almost moan in relief when his warmth envelopes you in once again.

you gotta do something about the bathroom being too cold. even sitting on the toilet is painful.

your heart flutters when he decompresses in your hold, making himself smaller to bury his face on your chest.

poor thing, you think to yourself when you brush his hair and notice that the back of his ear has turned red. you’ve definitely experienced this pain many times in the past. still does sometimes. and it stings. you tenderly trace the area with your fingertip, pressing a kiss on the top of his head because it’s the only place your lips can reach.

aside from his glasses, he also left the night lamp turned on, so you quickly take care of that as well before closing your eyes.

“sleep more, my love. it’s still early.”

jungkook’s mind malfunctions and mistranslates your words. he forces himself to reply before succumbing to yesterday’s persistent weariness.

“i love you, too.”

—

taglist! @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @rkie @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent @takochelle @the1921-monsters @investedreader @seagulljk @yeow6n @yoonqkiss @hopeworldjimin @lllucere @unnatae @zqynmlk @bxbyyyjocelyn @zkdlllin @koostarcandy @tswisal1 @fragmentof-indifference @laylasbunbunny @jjk-jeongirl + send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

2K notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 6 months

Text

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 10

Just two more chapters to go and then this little story is done. I'm glad I wrote it. It was very cathartic for me. I hope it brought some comfort to you too.

Here we find out who Steve has been grieving this whole time and that Eddie mourned them too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

****

Steve was quiet and contemplative on the trip back. And Eddie let him be. That was quite the roller coaster of emotion he had gone through and he knew Steve needed time to sort out all of his thoughts and feelings.

As they neared Ashland, Eddie asked, “Are you okay? It got pretty heavy back there.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured.

“I wasn’t asking for forgiveness,” Eddie admonished gently. “I was asking if you were okay.”

Steve sighed. “I guess I just had so many things bottled up that it all came out in a rush.”

“So talk to me,” Eddie said softly. “I know you think you can’t talk to anyone else because they’re all younger than you. But I’m not. So spill.”

Steve let out a long shuddering breath as if he had been holding it in for years.

“It’s just there have only ever been two adults involved in the whole Upside Down shit,” Steve murmured. “Well, there have been others, but either they haven’t been trustworthy or they’ve died. And I’m not going to lie and say I’m not bitter about Mrs Byers taking her family out to California and leaving me as the remaining adult.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie said softly. He hadn’t even thought about that. “That wasn’t right. I get she was trying to get Will and El as far away from Hawkins as she could, but considering the frequency of the U.D. coming back, it does seem selfish when looked at from your point of view.”

“El wasn’t the only one grieving Hopper’s death,” Steve spat out. “Why were only her feelings taken into consideration? Why was his funeral ‘a private family’ affair instead of one benefiting a hero where the whole town could attend? Why was El the first one that got to see him? Why did it take days before anyone else was informed?”

Eddie saw a shoulder and pulled off onto it, the Bimmer crunching the gravel as it slowed to a stop.

“It must have been so hard on you,” Eddie murmured. “You mentioned back at the diner that he always looked out for you and then suddenly he was gone and no one thought to ask you if you needed time to grieve, right?”

Steve nodded. “I just felt so stupid after it was announced that he was alive, you know? Like how dare I mourn someone who hadn’t even died. But I thought that once everything settled down we would get a chance to talk, but nope. He went off to California with the Byers. They’re supposed all be back before school starts, but who knows if that’s even true.”

“Steve it isn’t stupid you grieved,” Eddie murmured. “But I bet if you told him what you’ve been feeling, he’d pretty upset that he hurt you like that.”

Tears started streaming down Steve’s face. “I just want to be loved as much I love them, is that really too much to ask for?”

Eddie unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled him in for a hug. “Of course it’s not. And I don’t doubt if you stopped to really think about it you can name at least a half a dozen people who love you as much as you love them.”

Steve let out a watery chuckle. “I could probably fill up all ten of my fingers, if I was honest to myself.”

Eddie wiped away his tears. “There you have it, big boy. But it’s okay to cry and if you feel like you need to fall apart, call me. I’ll come over with beer, weed, and bad horror films to mock until you laugh.”

Steve wiped his nose on his arm. “You promise?”

Eddie leaned back far enough to hold up his pinkie. “I pinkie promise.”

Steve hooked his finger around Eddie’s and shook on it.

“You ready to face the road again?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. After a moment or two of silence, he spoke up. “You remember when ‘fake’ cried for Keith?” He used his fingers around the word fake to put it into air quotes.

Eddie, who was about to pull into traffic again, cut the engine. “Holy shit. It was Hopper, wasn’t it? That’s who you were remembering.”

Steve nodded. “It’s easy to cry when thinking about him, you know?”

“Because it’s new and even though he’s not dead, you never got your resolution?”

Steve nodded again. “I just feel so selfish about the whole thing, you know. He wasn’t my dad. I wasn’t related to him in anyway. But I thought I meant something to him, you know?”

Eddie turned the car back on and eased into traffic. “I’m sure you meant a lot to him, but there could be extenuating circumstances that prevented him from expressing that. Like I said before, I bet if you told him how you felt he’d be gutted.”

Steve just shrugged.

Eddie glanced over at him and then back at the road. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll tell Dustin about the time you flirted with his mom to get the brownie recipe.”

Steve’s went wide. “That was not flirting! I was just buttering her up a bit. That’s not the same thing.”

“Oh I know that,” Eddie said with a grin. “But would Dustin know the difference?”

Steve thought about it for a moment. “You drive a hard bargain, Lord Eddie.”

Eddie giggled. “You know, sometimes I forget you like ‘Star Wars’, you just aren’t great with their titles.”

“The third one is my favorite, after all.”

Eddie cleared his throat. “So back when I was just little metalhead, dealing for the first time one of my best customers was the Chief.”

Steve blinked. “Oh wait, I think I did hear something about that. I’m surprised he wasn’t fired.”

Eddie shrugged. “He wasn’t up for re-election. Sheriffs are elected. And small town like Hawkins, change is difficult. Hop would have to straight up murder babies in town hall and smear their blood over the church walls to get people to not vote for him.”

Steve snorted. “I doubt even then. It would take him being soft on homosexuals before they ousted him.”

Eddie laughed. “You’ve got me there.”

Steve smiled at him.

“So,” Eddie continued, “the reason I bring it up is that despite what people think, I’ve never been arrested for dealing and Rick hadn’t either until Hop ‘died’.”

Steve straightened up in his seat. “What do you mean?”

“Hop always said it was better to steer Rick away from certain places because he could,” Eddie said, “then it was to arrest him and have an all out war with the new supplier.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “That’s why Rick didn’t get arrested until Powell took over because he didn’t have the same philosophy that Hop did.”

“Right in one,” he said. “And it did get bad with people trying to fill the void he left behind. Uncle Wayne convinced to stop selling once I was out until Rick was released because I couldn’t trust the new suppliers not to cut their shit with something dangerous.”

“Holy shit, yeah,” Steve agreed. “So why are you telling me this?”

“Because Hop looked out for me, too,” Eddie said. “Especially when my old man rolled into town. He would make sure he got to the carnage first and made sure I never got a record.”

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “That makes since I always wondered why the police or Jason never brought up your arrest record. It’s because Hop made sure you never got one.”

“So this is me saying,” Eddie finished, “I get it. I get mourning him. Because in my own way I mourned him, too. Because between Hop and Uncle Wayne they made sure I could get out of Hawkins when the time came.”

“This is exactly why I pushed for a public funeral,” Steve grumbled, sinking back into his seat and crossing his arms. “I don’t know who had the final say on that, but it makes me mad that just because they didn’t have a body people in town wouldn’t want to come see anyway. It blows.”

“Here’s that,” Eddie agreed.

Too soon they were pulling up the Nelsons’ and the sun was starting to set.

By silent agreement they both got out of the car and sat on Steve’s hood to watch the sunset in a beautiful array of blues and purples until the sky darkened and the stars came out.

“Thank you for today,” Steve murmured. “For all of it. Getting me out here, taking me to my grandmother’s grave, sitting with me when I talked to Uncle Percy. Helping me with my grief even though yours is far more fresh and painful than mine.”

“Grief is grief, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “You don’t get to decide when it heals over. You were there for me when my dad showed up, so I was more than happy to return the favor with your family.”

“Thanks, man,” Steve said.

“So...” Eddie said. “You want to tell me why you and your uncle weren’t keen to let your other uncle see you?”

Steve snorted. “He’s the one that was the most against my mom getting any kind of inheritance. He didn’t think she should have gotten anything because she was a girl child. He kept saying that she got her money in the form of the lavish wedding she had when she married my dad.”

He ran his fingers through his hair.

“He’s sued her at least three times that I know of. If he had seen me he would have started screaming about how my mom didn’t deserve that money and that I was just as complicit in its ‘theft’ as she was.”

“But he got the house or whatever it was, right?” Eddie asked.

He nodded. “Yeah and the two acres of land it sits on. If he were to sell it would go for at least a few million, easy.”

“I’ll bet,” Eddie said, whistling long and low. “Which means Percy got the business?”

“Which another thing that upset Uncle Jasper,” Steve said. “But Uncle Percy is the oldest and had the best business sense, but he can’t let it go that he thinks his siblings got the better deal.”

“I heard this quote once about how some people are content in life, but that others just can’t be. That they will always seek more. Nothing will ever be enough.”

“Uncle Jasper is definitely one of those.”

Penny poked her head out the front door. “Come on in, boys, it’s really getting late.”

Eddie and Steve stood up and walked back into the house, feeling lighter then they had since before March.

****

Pt 11|Pt 12

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster @r0binscript @awkotaco24 @ilikeititspretty

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #minor character death #dealing with grief

172 notes · View notes

dwobbitfromtheshire · 5 months

Text

The Right Place in Time

Summary: What if Steve was in the woods with Chrissy and Eddie getting weed for his headaches?

@disrespectedgoatman @estrellami-1 @darkrose517 @panicatthediaz @mandriice @nightmareglitter

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four- Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen - Chapter Fifteen - Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Steve was the first one awake, and it was quite early. The three of them were sharing two beds pressed together, and surprisingly, they had their own room. Steve was as far back against the wall as he could possibly get while Chrissy was up against his chest with Eddie curled up around her, snoring into her hair. They both looked so beautiful while they slept, especially Chrissy, with the way her bottom lip kind of poked out a bit. Steve brushed his fingers against her forehead, sweeping her bangs back with a few gentle strokes. He moved to cup her cheek, rubbing her soft skin with his thumb. Chrissy's eyes opened, and she smiled at him.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, but it's okay. It's a good view to wake up to," Chrissy whispered.

She pulled him into a kiss, cupping the back of his neck. Her lips were soft and wet against his. They were properly hydrated now, so there was a little more saliva involved now when their mouths came together. Chrissy slipped her tongue into his mouth and threw her leg over his hip to move closer to him. Steve tried hard to keep from making a sound, but it slipped out.

"What a sight to a wake up to," Eddie croaked.

Steve broke the kiss and watched as Eddie attached his lips to Chrissy's neck. Her eyes fluttered, and her mouth fell open. She looked at Steve with heavy lidded eyes, her mouth open, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants. Fuck. She had to stop looking at him like that. They couldn't do this here, no matter how much they wanted to. Plus, even pushed together, the beds weren't that big. He was about to say something when a knock sounded at the door.

"There's breakfast!" Dustin's voice came through the door. "If you guys haven't already devoured each other."

"He's such a little shit," Eddie laughed once they heard him walk off.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Steve blushed.

"Hey, me too!" Eddie exclaimed with a grin. "Maybe we can - "

"No! No taking care of each other. We don't have time for that, and honestly, if I can't join you guys, then what's the point?" Chrissy asked and laughed when they pouted at her. "No!"

They watched her walk out of the room, and they gave each other a look.

"I want to even more now," Eddie whined.

"Are you twelve?" Steve scoffed. "Probably shouldn't do that here anyway."

"Now you're telling me not to take care of it now?" Eddie scowled. "This is yours and Chrissy's fault. . .waking me up like that."

"You could help me change my bandages," Steve said, whipped off his shirt, and Eddie brightened considerably.

When Steve and Eddie approached the mess hall, Chrissy was arriving as well. She stared at them for a moment, her head tilted to the side. Steve tried to hide his guilt, but like Eddie, he didn't do a good job. Chrissy laughed.

"You guys did it anyway," Chrissy said, and then she smiled coyly. "Knew you would."

"Really?" Steve asked.

"Why do you think I told you not to?" Chrissy asked.

She laughed and moved into the mess hall. Eddie groaned and buried his face into Steve’s neck.

"She's going to be the death of us, Stevie," Eddie said.

"Not a bad way to die, though," Steve said, and Eddie laughed in agreement.

They walked into the mess hall where Chrissy was sitting with three plates of food. She patted the seat beside her, and Eddie plopped right down, pulling Steve gently into his lap.

"There are other chairs," Dustin scoffed, but he was struggling not to grin too.

"And I found one. With pretty great hair too," Steve said and kissed Eddie's forehead.

They all ate in silence with music playing from the speakers over head. Eddie ate with one hand and gently caressed Steve’s stomach with the other. Once they all finished, Ellen stepped forward to go over the plan. Max, Lucas, Dustin, Gareth, and Jeff would go to the Creel House to draw out Vecna. Nancy, Vickie, Robin, and Frank would be in the Upside Down to set up the speakers as the distraction as well as Ellen's partner, Agent Rodney Ford. Ellen would be going with Chrissy, Steve, and Eddie to Creel's House in the Upside Down.

"I'm going with you guys, too," Matthew said to Chrissy.

"Uncle Matthew!" Chrissy exclaimed.

"You're my little girl too, Chrissy. There's nothing that I can do to stop you. You're old enough to make your own decisions, but I can be there to guide you," Matthew said.

"What he said," Wayne spoke up. "Except you're my boy, Eddie. I'm going with you too."

"I guess I can't stop you either," Eddie said in amusement.

They spent the day gathering supplies, going over the plan, and enjoying each other's company. At one point, Ellen and Rodney went to the War Zone to get more weapons and other supplies. When they came back, their arms were full of supplies as well as clothes. Eddie cheered when he found a pair of black pants and a red t-shirt. Rodney tossed Steve a brown leather jacket and Eddie a belt made of bullets.

"I thought you guys might look good in these," Rodney said.

Steve was closer to him, and he could see how young he was underneath his scruffy red beard. He wasn't that much older than they were, and his brown eyes were twinkling at the both of them. Oh. Chrissy cleared her throat and stared Rodney down.

"Thanks, Robert," Chrissy said stiffly.

"Rodney," he corrected.

"Right," she said and continued to stare at him until he walked away from them.

"You're so cute," Steve laughed.

"What?" Chrissy asked.

"You were jealous," Eddie said in a sing song voice.

"Shut up," Chrissy said blushing.

They leaned down and kissed her cheeks.

"We know who we belong to," Eddie joked. "If you wanted to, you could get us matching dog collars. . . Ooh!"

"No," Steve said immediately.

"Damn."

"You know, he was right. You guys would look great in these," Chrissy said. "Ooh, Steve, the camo shirt with the brown jacket."

"She's right, babe," Eddie said. "I guess we should suit up, then."

Everyone began changing, most people putting on their protective wear immediately. Eddie changed into his jeans and shirt, then pulled on his leather jacket. He tied his bandana around his head and then slipped on his new bullet belt. Eddie's other vest was tucked safely in Steve's car. Chrissy was already wearing her protective vest with a black beret nestled upon her strawberry blond curls. Steve was about to put on his own vest when he and Chrissy glanced at Eddie.

"Shirts a little small, isn't it?" Steve asked, glancing as his treasure trail.

"Just because you're saving the world doesn't mean you can't look hot, and we all do," Eddie said. "You're keeping that jacket, Stevie."

Steve rolled his eyes and began helping Eddie put on the protective vest. He zipped it up all the way to Eddie's chin. Eddie grinned, rolled his eyes, and unzipped it. Steve scowled and zipped it back up. Chrissy giggled.

"I don't want that pretty tummy of yours getting fucked up like mine," Steve said. "Okay?"

"Okay."

Steve pulled Eddie into a rough but gentle kiss before doing the same with Chrissy. Steve wrapped his arms around both of them, and the three of them stayed like that for a long time until the sound of someone hammering interrupted them. The three of them headed back into the mess hall to find Dustin and Lucas hammering nails into a trash can lid.

"What's happening?" Eddie asked.

"They wouldn't let us have guns, but they did let us do this for you guys, and they also gave us knives," Dustin said, and then he grinned. "It's like your bat, Steve, except it's a shield."

"I see that," Steve said in amusement. "Oh, speaking of the bat. It's still in my car."

Steve left the mess hall and walked put into the parking lot. He walked back into the mess hall, twirling the bat in his hands. Eddie whistled and winked at him.

"Ooh, even hotter," Eddie said, fanning himself. "So, does the bat have a name?"

"No, why would it?" Steve scoffed.

"Because it's like a sword, Stevie, and every good sword needs a name like Excalibur or Sting," Eddie said as he grabbed a shield and raised it in the air, striking a pose.

"Sting?" Steve asked.

"Bilbo's name for his sword from the Hobbit," Chrissy replied, and Eddie looked her, nearly dropping the shield. "What? Did I not mention? Matty used to love it when I would read it to him when he was little, and then he discovered comic books. I like the book too."

"Have you read the other books?" Eddie asked.

"There are more books?" Chrissy asked.

"Oh, Chrissy, Chrissy, Chrissy," Eddie said, shaking his head.

"You have no idea what you've just done," Gareth asked with a grin.

"That's all you're going to be doing after this," Jeff cackled.

"And don't think you're getting out of this either, Stevie," Eddie grinned.

"Getting out of what?" Steve asked.

"Reading the Lord of the Rings. Although you haven't read the Hobbit, we should probably start with that one," Eddie grinned. "And then work our way up. I'll gladly do all of the reading if you want me to."

"Okay," Steve said, shrugging.

"What?!" Dustin shrieked. "I've been trying to get you to read it for years now!"

"Yeah, but you've never offered to read it to me," Steve said and then paused. "Plus, Eddie's so pretty."

He grinned as Eddie preened, his cheeks pink.

"So, the name for the bat?" Eddie asked.

"I don't know, why don't you come up with a name for it?" Steve shrugged.

"Oh, now you've done it, Steve," Frank said.

"Hmm, how about Ozzy? In honor of the metal way that you took out the bat in the Upside Down," Eddie grinned.

"Ozzy?" Steve asked.

"You know, Ozzy Osborne? Black Sabbath?" Eddie asked.

"I've got no idea who you're talking about," Steve said.

"He bit the head off a bat on stage," Eddie said and sighed. "No matter, I'll educate you later. Ozzy is a great name, I think."

"Ozzy, it is then," Steve grinned.

Eddie gave him a quick kiss and leaned down to coo at Ozzy.

"Who's a good little slugger? You are, Ozzy," Eddie cooed.

"Okay, now you're just being crazy," Steve said and Chrissy giggled.

It was now in the middle of the parking lot where everyone gathered together, and the late afternoon sun was starting to sink down into the sky, that they started to part ways. Jeff would be driving Matthew's car with Dustin, Gareth, Lucas, and Max. Nancy would be driving Steve’s car again with Eddie, Chrissy, Steve, and Robin. Ellen and Rodney would be driving their own car with Frank while Wayne drove Matthew and Vickie in his truck with the stereos strapped to the back of the truck.

"So, you guys are just going to go down through the lake?" Dustin asked.

"We've prepared for that, yes," Ellen said.

"Right," Dustin frowned.

Max, Lucas, and Dustin looked nervously at Steve. He strode forward and pulled the three of them into a hug.

"We're going to be fine. Just fine," Steve said.

He held onto them tightly. He didn't want to let them go, but he also needed to go with Chrissy. Oh, how he wished he could be in two places at once.

"Come on, Mama," Eddie said, clapping his hands on his Steve’s shoulders. "Big Daddy's turn."

He pulled Steve out of their arms and swung him around into Chrissy's arms with Steve protesting loudly.

"Ugh, please, never call yourself that again," Max said. "I am not hugging you now."

"I could have been talking about Chrissy," Eddie said and turned to pull Chrissy into their arms.

"You're so fucking weird," Max laughed.

"You're one to talk, Red. What's normal anyway?" Eddie said. "Never change, not a single one of you, not unless you want to and not like in a bad way, like in a true to yourself way. Yes, be true to yourself!"

"Jesus, you really needed a road map for that one," Max scoffed.

Steve scoffed and rejoined the hug, pushing his way into the group.

"I love you guys," Steve said softly.

Max, Lucas, and Dustin shared a soft smile before grinning wickedly at him.

"Love you too, mom!" They said in unison, causing Eddie and Chrissy to laugh.

"Alright, assholes, fuck off," Steve laughed.

Eddie moved over to Nancy and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Wheeler - ," Eddie started to say.

"I'm going with you to the lake," Nancy laughed.

"Right, just wanted to include you in this chapter," Eddie said.

"What?" Nancy asked and looked at Wayne.

"Don't look at me, I only catch half of what he's trying to say to me," Wayne said.

Eddie rolled his eyes and turned to hug Gareth and Jeff. Finally, they all parted ways. Steve sat in the back seat with Chrissy and Eddie while Nancy drove with Robin in the front seat. Chrissy was using her Walkman while Steve’s new tape played in his car stereo. Chrissy was in between Steve and Eddie, her back to Eddie's chest while her legs were thrown into Steve’s lap. He was rubbing her leg, caressing it gently with the tips of his fingers. Steve watched as she bobbed her head to the music. The afternoon sun shone down on her, making her strawberry blonde hair glisten like gold. Her eyes were shimmering pools of blue, matching perfectly with the long sleeve shirt she was wearing under her vest.

Eddie pressed his cheek against her head, rubbing her arm. His hand moved down until it was pressed against her stomach. Suddenly, Eddie grinned wickedly as he started to tickle her sides. Chrissy snorted with laughter and started hitting him as she leaned further back. Eddie continued to tickle her as he placed a quick, sweet kiss to her lips and brushed his nose against her cheek. Her body shook with laughter. There was this moment of realization for Steve as he watched them. Oh, god, he loved them. He loved them so much. It was too soon, wasn't it? Yeah, too soon to tell them.

"Oh, children, behave!" Robin called from the passenger's seat.

The group pulled up to the lake and climbed out of the vehicles. Everyone clutched their weapons as they moved toward the glowing lake. Eddie was holding a spear and a shield that Dustin had made. Robin and Vickie had spears of their own while Nancy held a shotgun. Grant held a knife in his hand as well as Chrissy. Wayne and Matthew had guns of their own. They moved to the edge of the lake and gasped at the sight of the entire lake glowing red. The reason for that was because the gate had stretched out further. In his anger, Henry must have widened the gate, causing an opening to appear on the shore.

"Aw, hell," Wayne cursed, summing it up perfectly.

Chapter Eighteen

46 notes · View notes

the-red-siren · 5 months

Text

Do Not Disturb

TW: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Submissive Bi-Han if you squint, mating press, desk sex, breaking furniture, rough sex, fem genitals, afab reader, afab anatomy, vaginal sex, sex without a condom, dirty talk, submissive character, angry sex, rare smiling Bi-Han, cream pie, breeding kink, cock riding, needy Sub-Zero, degradation, pretty boy Bi-Han, large cock, office sex, Top Bi-Han, Top Sub-Zero, you get fucked and fucked HARD, the mask stays on, whiny Bi-Han, smut, shameless smut, porn, Not Beta Read, off camera aftercare

Simply put; railed into a desk by Bi-Han (Sub-Zero). I'm not gonna sugar-coat it.

And not to be Kung-Lao about it, but this fic is GOOD. (GIR voice) I made it myself!!

[written in Australian English]

Find the fic on AO3!

The Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei rarely accepted visitors into his office, let alone ones that allowed themselves into his space without permission. The door was kept shut at all times and the interior was unbeknownst to almost everyone who wasn’t within the Grandmaster’s inner circle.

That being said, as you stared at the magnificent tapestry behind Bi-Han, you couldn’t help but think yourself one of the lucky few to see inside the Grandmasters inner chambers, gazing at the tapestry that had wonderous embroidery and exploded in colour as it told a story of his ancestors. And though the circumstances proved unorthodox to you being here, you couldn’t help but take in the details.

Well… as unorthodox as bouncing on one’s cock could get.

“Do you plan on wasting my time any further? Or is this as fast as you can go?”

You snapped out of your runaway train of thought and looked Bi-Han; your steady pace slowing down to teasing strokes of your pussy on his cock, a dazed stare in your eyes. A smirk ghosted your lips as you slowed your bouncing hips and rolled them teasingly; a muffled growl of warning huffed from behind his mask.

“Are we ‘needy’, Grandmaster?” you could feel every inch of his cock inside you as your hips rolled. Every vein, curve, from tip to base. Bi-Han filled you up nicely.

“I am never— hnngh~ — needy.” Your unexpected bounce drew a strained moan from Bi-Han as his breath heaved to compose himself.

You hummed in amusement, continuing your teasing. “I think my speed is acceptable as is. Don’t you agree?”

The permanent furrow on Bi-Han’s forehead somehow grew deeper. “Keep up the attitude and I’ll show you how to really pick up the pace.”

Your face contorted into one of consideration; getting fucked hard and fast but the Grandmaster wouldn’t be so bad, but you were enjoying your teasing far too much to give up just yet.

You hummed and lightly scratched the nape of Bi-Han’s neck whilst raising your hips higher to bounce back down, sighing at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls out nicely. There was a fluttering to the Grandmaster’s eyes as his head tipped back and his hands trailed from your hips to your thighs, lightly squeezing the soft muscle. You chose to slowly increase your tempo and tighten your arms around his shoulders as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, moaning lightly in huffs of air right into his ear.

Bi-Han’s eyes rolled back with the heavy slaps of your thighs on his and he bit his lip beneath his mask to hold back his moans. Your hole was wet and soft, warm and stretched open only for him. No one else could open you up as he could and he was slowly losing himself to the feeling. Your nails dug into his shoulders and with the mix of the sensation of your pussy fucking onto his cock, Bi-Han whined and dug his fingers deeper into your thighs.

You quickly back peddled and sat up, looking at Bi-Han with a shit-eating grin on your face as his eyes widened.

“Did you just—“

The Grandmaster thrust up into you to cut off your sentence with a cry, but the grin on your face didn’t leave.

“Gods,” you sighed, “you’re so — ahh~ — pathetic Bi-Han. So whiny and desperate to be topped—“

Your legs were forced to lock around Bi-Han’s waist as his fast movements lifted you up with him still inside you and slammed your back onto his desk. His pace was brutal and unrelenting, pounding your cunt with slick noises filling the room; his balls slapping against you and splashing your leaking fluids against all surfaces. Your cries and moans joined the crescendo of noise while Bi-Han stared at you with a cold fire in his eyes, his hair falling out in strands to frame his face.

“You dare belittle the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei??”

His tone was dark and aggressive, dripping in venom of his anger but twisted with lust. His clutch on your thighs was guaranteed to cause bruises on them, if not breaking skin with how hard he was gripping. Your jaw hung slack with your eyes swiftly glossed over from the way Bi-Han’s cock hit deep inside you; your thighs folding you in half to penetrate at a deeper angle.

“What?” He spat. “No snappy comeback? Too fucked from my cock pounding your pussy enough to fill you up with the next generation of recruits? You are the one who is pathetic here, not me.”

Your legs began to shake as your body trembled. Your moans rose an octave higher as your hands scrambled to find purchase with the desk rocking beneath you. In the disarray, your fingers snagged on the edges of Bi-Han’s mask and pulled it loose, allowing it to fall to the floor aimlessly.

You saw the Grandmaster’s face in all its lustful glory; his eyes still in that permanent furrow with his lips in a scowl, but there was a wicked gleam in his eyes with his flushed cheeks that twisted deep in your gut and lit something fierce inside you. You whimpered with a high-pitch tone and Bi-Han’s lips sneered at your state of being with a grim laugh bellowing from deep within him.

“Does the thought of you carrying my seed leave you craving more? I felt you tighten around me just now; you truly are a pathetic bitch.”

The feeling in your lower stomach heightened in intensity and you rolled your eyes with a cry. You tried to communicate your peak of pleasure, but the railing you were receiving was too intense for you to handle any form of basic communication. The Grandmaster was not stupid, however, and pieced things together with the way your body responded to his motions.

“You want to release yourself onto me? To reach the pinnacle of your climax and cum on my cock?” He gave that deep laugh again, pulling you impossibly closer towards him and shoving himself in further; the desk quaking underneath.

You nodded furiously, incapable of words except for high-pitched noises and groans.

A rare smile shone on Bi-Han’s face. “Then cum. Obey your Grandmaster.”

Your nails clawed into his skin, deep enough to draw blood on his shoulder blades. Your legs thundered dangerously and you felt your orgasm hit you intensely and you came screaming Bi-Han’s name, legs spreading outward due to muscle spasms and shaking uncontrollably all over. Your tight cunt was like a vice to Bi-Han’s cock and his eyes rolled with an almost-silent whimper as his thrusts began to falter, but he screwed his eyes shut and huffed, forcing himself to keep composed and keep fucking you through your orgasm.

Your screams died into strangled wails and pitiful moans with whimpers mixed into your already limited lack of vocabulary. There were tears lining your eyes as you blinked for clear sight to see Bi-Han with closed eyes and focused on chasing his high.

“B…Bi-Han…” your words were so quiet you almost felt like you didn’t speak at all, but with the Grandmaster peering open to look at you with sporadic thrusts, you couldn’t help but grin meekly.

“Such a good boy… pretty thing…”

There were subtleties in the Grandmasters persona that only very few would notice; fewer than those allowed in his office. A twitch in his eyebrow, a quirk of his lip, and dart of his eyes. You noticed his pupils widen and blow larger with your words and his cheeks turn a darker red. His jaw slowly turned slack with his pounding becoming more forced into your cunt as he grunted and gave a groan before slamming his cock down to the hilt into your hole and burying it inside, cumming deep within and filling you up.

His actions made you whine as his hot fluid painted your walls and you felt him shudder inside you. Bi-Han’s breath was heavy with his eyes glossed over and half-lidded staring down at you with his hair completely fallen out of his ponytail. He gently helped lower your legs to a more comfortable position and you bit down a moan at the feeling of him shifting around.

“I think…” Bi-Han swallowed and rolled his shoulders back, taking a deep breath. “We may have caused some noise concerns.”

A giggle from you erupted into a laugh before you muffled yourself with your hand. You looked up at Bi-Han who wore his signature scowl and stared at you.

A creak was heard beneath you and you stopped your laughter. Another deep groan and the snapping of wood before Bi-Han grabbed you and hiked you up into his arms with your legs around him, both of you making oversensitive noises with his cock still buried inside you, before the desk partially collapsed. You glanced over your shoulder at the mess; the desk was still mostly intact, however where you had previously laid was a dip due to a crack from your combined weight and brutal activity.

“…that …was solid oak.” Bi-Han in shock after a moment of processing passed.

You purse your lips and turn back to face him, only to be met with the more rare of the Grandmaster’s treasures.

His genuine smile.

It was gone the moment he realised you saw, but that half-second would be burned into your memory.

Bi-Han cleared his throat and gently removed himself from you, groaning from the loss of contact and tightness as he set you down. Your legs shook terribly as you clutched onto his chest, feeling his cum slowly deep down your thighs.

“I’ll have a commission for a new desk tomorrow.” Bi-Han said. “Let me get you to get cleaned up.”

#mortal kombat #mk1 #bi-han #sub zero #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 2023 #Bi-Han is Sub-Zero #no beta we die like Sindel in MK1 #Bi-Han is always angry #maybe if he gets a good fuck he'll calm down

45 notes · View notes

dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 5 months

Text

Only the Strong Survive Ch. 7

Series Summary: Lexie Weston is in a terrible, abusive marriage. In her mind and soul, she feels like she has no way out that won't result in her death. But something changes in her life to make her take the risk. Can she rely on Sheriff Beau Arlen to protect her like he said he would, or will this risk lead to ruin?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x OFC (eventual)

Series Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut, Angst, Fluff throughout. A pretty slow burn, TW: Abusive marriage, Domestic abuse will be talked about throughout. Chapter warnings will be more specific

Word Count: 3,329

Chapter Summary: Y/N wants to explore the connection she feels to Beau, but will that sever it?

Chapter Warnings: None. Kissing.

A/N: K, so the next chapter definitely came out faster than the last. Lol! The momentum feels good on the series, I think I might ACTUALLY finish it sooner than the end of February if I don't stall out. Wish me luck! And as always if you enjoy the series/chapter, please comment and/or reblog. It makes a HUGE difference in keeping that momentum going.

Hope you enjoy Ch. 7!

The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @saradika

The night was cold now, and Lexi pulled her heavy coat tighter around her. She could hear people laughing and talking, saying their farewells as they packed up and put out the bonfire. She knew she needed to go too, the school bus would be headed back to Haven House very soon. But she just wanted to breathe it all in a bit longer.

“So.” Beau said as he walked up beside her. “What do you think? Did we manage to throw you a decent graduation party?”

She looked at him and was struck anew at how incredibly beautiful he was. She smiled shyly and sighed deeply, looking back out at the mountains surrounding them, purple in the darkness. She gazed up at the full moon and shook her head.

“I think…I think this might be the, the best time I’ve ever had.”

She looked up at Beau and saw his slight befuddlement. She shrugged and looked away. “I was just thinking about…” She trailed off, and wondered whether Beau actually wanted to hear any of this. But when she snuck another glance at him, his eyes were curious and encouraging. That look, of interest and consideration, was one of the things that made his eyes so incredibly beautiful.

So she carried on.

“The reason I dropped out of high school was, well…my dad - he drank a lot. He was…I think he was a good man, had a good heart, but he was just…I don’t know, lost I guess. My mom, she died when I was really little. I don’t remember her at all, but…” She smiled sadly. “He did, and I think it just kind of ate at him you know. I mean, I know he…he loved me and I loved him too. But, he couldn’t take care of me, couldn’t take care of himself. So, someone had to…” She gave a brief resigned laugh. “Someone had to buy the milk, pay the electric bill, you know. So, I dropped out, started working.”

The wind kicked up a bit and blew a curl over her forehead and she tucked it back behind her ear before continuing. “But, I mean, I really liked school. So leaving…” She stopped to glance at Beau again and his smile was soft and understanding. “Well, it sucked.”

Beau nodded. “I bet.” He said quietly.

Lexi shrugged. “And I…I know my GED, it’s not the same as graduating, but…” She started to duck her head, but instead she caught herself and raised her chin. “I guess, I feel…I don’t know, I guess - I’m proud of myself.”

She wanted to immediately take back the words, but she told herself that she wouldn’t. She meant what she said.

Beau’s smile was blinding. “Oh, sweetheart, you should be proud of yourself. What you’ve accomplished…” He shook his head. “Not only with getting your diploma, but just everything. You deserve to feel incredibly proud.”

His praise was a lot for Lexi to take. She loved it, and felt it spread warm and happy through her heart, but she had to look away from him, looking back up at the moon instead.

“Anyway,” she shrugged again. “I was just standing here thinking, ‘When was the last time I felt like this?’ and I realized…I don’t ever remember feeling like this. Which is probably pathetic. But…I think…my whole life I’ve been just…surviving, you know. And now…I feel like I’m living, I feel like tonight was the start of that.”

She crossed her arms, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed with her wordy confession. “Does that make sense?”

Beau nodded. “It makes perfect sense, yes. And I’m so glad for you.”

From over by the bus, Sarah called for Lexi. Lexi waved back and gave a thumbs up to show she heard.

“Well, anyway I guess I should…” She thumbed towards the group waiting on her.

“Right.” Beau took a step back, but Lexi stopped him.

“Wait, I was wondering…would you do me a big favor?”

“Sure.” Beau answered immediately.

“It’s not really, like, a professional thing, or…well, it’s a personal favor.” Lexi cautioned him. “So, please feel free to say no. I’ll completely understand.”

Beau gave a chuckle and shook his head. “What do you need?”

Lexi bit her lip and watched Beau’s eyes dart to her mouth. Something in his gaze made her core muscle clench and she had to look at the ground and take in a deep breath before she could continue.

“I have a um, appointment tomorrow…it’s my sonogram appointment.” She glanced at him with an excited expression. “I finally get to see the baby. But…I don’t wanna - I don’t wanna go alone.”

She dipped her head in the direction of the bus. “And Cicely has an appointment with her case worker, so…would you consider going with me?”

Beau hesitated a moment, and Lexi panicked and reassured him. “Seriously, it’s a lot to ask, so if you can’t do it -”

But Beau interrupted her. “Of course, happy to. What time?”

Lexi let out a breath. “It’s at one.”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up.”

Sarah honked the bus horn and Lexi waved and turned towards the bus before turning back quickly and impulsively throwing her arms around Beau’s neck to give him a hug. He hugged her back, and it occurred to her how perfect it felt to be held by him. She didn’t want to let go.

But she knew everyone was waiting, so she smiled at him shyly one more time before walking quickly towards the bus, wondering how long the warm and inviting scent of his cologne would linger on her coat.

***

“Alexandria Weston?”

Lexi looked up at the young woman in mint green scrubs and nodded. She hoped the name change papers went through soon.

Beau stood up with her and placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her towards the swinging door where the nurse waited patiently. The feeling of his touch, warm and reassuring, made some of the nervousness in her belly fade away, while causing a new kind of fluttering throughout her body.

Oh boy.

They entered a small room, slightly crowded with a table and equipment. The nurse took some basic information from Lexi before helping her up onto the table.

“The technician will be in shortly.” She smiled and left them alone in the cramped room.

Beau looked around and smiled. “This brings back memories.” He caught Lexi’s eye and winked. “Really good ones. I’ll never forget the way it felt to see Em for the first time.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m happy to be here with you for this.”

Lexi felt her eyes get inexplicably moist and she beamed at him. “I’m so grateful.”

Before Beau could respond, the technician entered with a bright smile. “Good afternoon. My name is Helena. How’s everyone feeling today?” She said as she shut the door behind her.

“Good.” Lexi and Beau said in unison.

Helena pulled the machine forward and pulled her stool up close to the table. Beau shifted around to Lexi’s other side, so he wasn’t in the way. But he picked up her hand again and Lexi squeezed it tightly, nervous despite her excitement.

“Alright folks!” The bubbly tech said, “Ready to meet your baby?”

“Oh, uh…” Lexi started to correct her, worried it would embarrass Beau to be mistaken for the father, but he squeezed her hand again, and gave a little shake of his head and a wink, letting her know it didn’t matter to him.

“Yeah,” he answered Helena, “we’re ready.”

Lexi felt her heart squeeze, imagining for just a minute how much simpler and happier her life would be if it was the truth. But before she could get too lost in wishful thinking, Helena pushed up her t-shirt to squirt out some cold jelly onto her stomach.

“Ooh!” Lexi exclaimed. “That’s cold.”

Helena smiled. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.” She pushed the wand around through the jelly, watching the screen.

Lexi shook her head and was going to tell her it was fine, but suddenly there was a sound like a freight train and Lexi gasped.

“Is that…”

“Your baby’s heartbeat.” Helena smiled as she moved the wand a little lower and the sound intensified.

“Oh my god.” Lexi’s voice was barely a breath. She stared raptly at the screen trying to make out the image. Clearly having done this many times, Helena began to explain.

“Here is your baby’s head.” She smoothed her finger over a tiny round silhouette on the screen, before continuing on. “And here is their spine, and down over the bum. And here you can see their limbs and we can even make out their fingers and toes.” She smiled at Lexi. “They’re waving at us.”

Tears were falling unchecked down Lexi’s face. A feeling like nothing she’d ever known swept over her and she felt pure joy and astounding fear in exactly equal measure.

“Oh,” Helena said with a smile. “Of course, we caution that we can never be one hundred percent certain, but do you want to know the sex?”

Lexi’s stomach dipped. “Yes.” She said immediately, anticipation rampant in her mind.

“Well, folks, it looks like you are going to have a bouncing baby boy.”

Lexi couldn’t process her own feelings and her mind raced from one thought to the next, there was a bit of panic setting in as everything felt suddenly very real in a way it simply hadn’t until that moment. All of a sudden the abstract future looked very distinct. Her son had a face in her mind, he was a mischievous toddler running away from her at the park, he was a chubby baby with a toothy smile and tiny fingers, he was a teenage boy slouching in his chair, he was a little boy with a splinter who was crying for her, he was a man hugging her goodbye as he left for college.

In the span of thirty seconds her son’s entire life spun through her mind and the panic grew. How could she possibly do this? She wasn’t capable of this, she was going to screw him up somehow, she was going to -

Suddenly both of Beau’s big hands closed over the one he held and he held it tighter. He spoke to Helena.

“How's the little guy doin’? Everything look good?”

Helena nodded. “Yes, he looks fabulous. Everything is developing normally, he's a good, healthy size, he's great.”

Beau raised Lexi's knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss there. “That's because of you.” He said softly. “Because you've kept him safe and taken such good care of him. You should be proud of that too.”

Lexi looked up into Beau's face and a wave of tenderness and gratitude washed over her as his green eyes sparkled down at her. How had he known just what to say? How did he know what she was thinking, how she’d been panicking at the magnitude of feeling sweeping through her? He was…incredible.

“Thank you.” She said simply, but what she meant was, “Thank you for saving me yet again.”

***

“I don’t wanna go back to the station yet.” Beau said as he was pulling out of the clinic parking lot. “What do you say we stop for ice cream? There’s an amazing place, Suzie’s Sundaes, they’ve got a million flavors.”

Lexi smiled mischievously. “You should know better than to tempt a pregnant woman with ice cream.”

Beau chuckled. “Suzie’s it is.”

After getting their ice cream, a scoop of Coffee Praline for Beau and one of Cookie Dough for Lexi, Beau nodded his head towards the park across the street.

“Wanna walk?”

Lexi nodded. “I’d love to.”

As they crossed the street, Beau put his free hand on her lower back again, safeguarding her as they crossed, and there was something in the gesture that made Lexi want to bat her eyes and giggle like a schoolgirl. There was just something about Beau that tended to make her head spin.

It had been like this, almost from the beginning she admitted now, but until Cicely had brought it up, she’d been doing a great job at pretending the feelings didn't exist. But now those thoughts and emotions just wouldn’t go away. She’d never felt this way about anyone. Not ever.

Given her history, she was surprised by how little the feelings scared her. She was nervous, only because she wasn’t sure that Cicely was right about Beau’s feelings towards her, and she was aware of the awful timing of it all. But fear didn’t enter in.

She had no fear where Beau was concerned. Her therapist at Haven House had spoken with her about what to lookout for in future relationships - red flags, she’d called them. But with Beau, there were no red flags; it was all green.

They wandered through the park for a while, both enjoying their ice cream and the scent of spring in the air. Eventually, Beau took her hand and pulled her off the beaten path.

“There’s a nice little bridge with some benches and trees over this way.”

Warmth spread up her arm from where he clasped her fingers, and when she sat down beside him on the bench, she was sorry that he let go.

“So, how are you doing?” He asked and Lexi shrugged.

“I’m good. I mean…I must admit that I’m a little nervous. I don’t…I don’t know how I’m gonna raise a son. How can I…teach him to shave? Or to pee standing up? And what happens when he hits puberty?”

Beau chuckled. “Well, puberty’s more than a decade off, so you’ve got some time to study. And the peeing thing just sort of comes naturally.”

He grinned at her and Lexi laughed. “Well, good.” She was quiet for a minute, scooping up a spoonful of ice cream. She swallowed and cleared her throat before voicing her biggest and only real fear.

“How do I raise him to…not be him? What if I can’t do it?” Her voice was soft. Was she allowed to admit that fear - that she was terrified of raising another Simon? She glanced at Beau, wondering if she’d see judgment there. But she should have known better.

He just nodded, his gaze sympathetic and understanding. “Babies aren’t born…evil, Lex. They’re just born needing us. You just have to love him, unconditionally, and unendingly.”

Lexi nodded. “I’m just so afraid of doing it wrong.”

Beau smiled at her and moved a bit closer on the bench. “Wanna hear my great secrets of parenthood?”

Lexi sighed. “God, yes.”

With a chuckle, he continued. “Well, I think kids need two things to thrive and be happy. Boundaries and respect.” He shrugged a broad shoulder. “Kids crave boundaries. They need to know what’s allowed and what’s not. It makes them feel safe. And they also deserve our respect. We should respect their boundaries too, and respect their intelligence by not talking down to them, or ignoring their thoughts and opinions. Even when they're really little, they wanna be heard and they want to know they matter.”

He shrugged again. “Can’t go wrong if you stick with those two pillars.” He smiled softly. “And fill it all in with lots and lots of love.”

Lexi had tears in her eyes and she blinked them away, staring at him, a little bit in awe. She shook her head. “Is that how your parents raised you? Is that how you turned out like this?”

Beau laughed warmly. “Well, they don’t deserve all the blame for how I turned out, but yeah, basically. A big part of who I am now is the foundation I was given. But, you know, they were also parents in the 80s and 90s, so…they weren’t perfect. Gentle parenting was definitely not a thing.”

Lexi laughed with him and then put her hand on his where it rested in his lap. “Well, whatever they did, it worked wonders.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’ve never known a better man than you.”

Beau breathed in deeply through his nose, his chest expanding as Lexi moved closer. His hand twitched beneath hers and she entwined her fingers with his. She looked down at their joined hands and then up at Beau. His eyes caught on her lips again for a moment, and then he turned his head away.

“Lexi,” he started and then seemed to stall.

He caught her gaze again as she shifted even closer, and his eyes were warm with want.

She lifted her hand to trail her fingers down his jaw, the silky feel of his beard making her sigh.

“Kiss me?” She asked softly as she looked at his mouth and craved the feel of it on her own.

“Lexi.” He said again, but this time it was full of caution.

She shook her head, her expression questioning. “Do you not want to?”

A rough laugh burst out of him and he put his hand on top of hers where it rested on his cheek. “That’s really not the problem.”

Lexi shrugged. “Then there really is no problem.”

She smiled at him and saw the moment he caved. His face lost its worry and left behind only passion as his mouth descended on hers. Beau’s lips were silky and plump as he brushed them gently against hers. The first touch made her gasp; the second made her moan softly and dart her tongue out to taste his full bottom lip.

The action made Beau grunt, taking his hand off of hers and pushing it into her hair. He opened his mouth and caught her next moan on his tongue as he slipped it inside. He tangled it up with hers, tasting and teasing her as he sipped at her lips. He moved both hands to her cheeks and tilted her head so he could delve deeper.

She’d never been kissed like this, never felt like this. She was completely consumed in mere moments, completely lost in the way his mouth moved on hers, the way his rough palms felt against her skin. She wanted so much more; the kiss wasn’t slaking her thirst for him, it was increasing it, making her desperate for more.

Finally though, Beau wrenched his mouth from hers with a sucking noise that sounded obscene and made Lexi shiver. His warm breath fanned her cheek as touched his forehead to hers.

“Oh sweetheart.” He said on an exhale. “We can’t do this.” He corrected himself. “I mean, I can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

Lexi was still breathless. “Is it?” She asked. “Why?”

Beau pulled further back, dropping his hands from her, and shook his head. “You know why. I’d be taking advantage of you.”

“Would you? I thought I was the one who asked for the kiss.”

Beau gave her a look. “Lexi.” He said again, the caution back in his tone, “You’re vulnerable right now, and it’s an asshole move to take advantage of that.”

“Really? Cause I think I’m stronger than I’ve ever been in my life right now.”

“That’s not what I mean…it’s just…” He shook his head again and stood up, putting even more distance between them. “I never should have let this happen. I’m sorry.”

Lexi began to feel embarrassment slipping in and she stood up too, waving her hand dismissively.

“Hey look, it’s no big deal. We don’t have to make it into more than it was okay?” She patted his forearm. “Let’s just say it was a nice afternoon and leave it at that.” She gave him another smile and she hoped it looked more believable than it felt.

“Lex I- “ Beau began, but she shook her head and started walking away.

“No, we’re good.”

Despite the distance she’d put between them, she still heard him curse quietly as he followed. She hoped the curse wasn’t directed towards her, and hoped the kiss hadn’t just ruined something beautiful between them.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378 @mayafatimakhan

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26 @slut-for-evans-stan

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla @stoneyggirl2

#beau arlen fan fic #beau arlen x ofc #beau arlen fluff #beau arlen angst #beau arlen fic #beau arlen

32 notes · View notes

jakesullysleftnipple · 7 months

Text

Mission With Miles

Chapter 10 ( Trying New Things)

a/n: this is a shorter chapter, after this there will be 2 more chapters and this fic will be complete! Probably won't write fics this long but I'll still be making shorts ^^

“Rise and shine buttercup, time to wake your ass up.”

Miles shook your shoulder lightly trying to wake you up. He was already clothed and dressed for the mission while you were still sleeping in clothes 2 sizes too big for you. He shook you a few more times before you finally started to wake up. Your muscles were sore, and you were still exhausted from the previous night. A few husky groans came from you as you turned over and looked up at the man hovering over you.

“There we go, you gotta wake up, starting early today. Gotta regroup with Lyle and the others quickly.”

“Ngh…What happened to good morning...how are you?”

You groaned again as you sat up in bed and rubbed your heavy eyes. Miles rubbed your back gently then pulled away, clearing his throat and laughing a bit at your response. He thought about leaving you be but after a response like that it would be rude to just leave, not to mention you two did have sex the previous night. He sat down on the far end of the bed and placed his hand on your knee. Giving you a small smile.

“How are you, did you sleep well y/n?”

“So considerate…I'm okay and I slept pretty okay too. But I'm still a bit sore…What about you miles?”

“I'm alright, slept fine too. Not sore like you though.”

It was clear from his response that he wasn’t talkative about his emotions. He might’ve told you how desperately he needed you but he still has a lot to learn when it comes to expression. He kept brushing his hand against your sides as he waited for you to get up. Your soreness made it more difficult to get up than before, After a few minutes of you dragging your body out of the bed you finally got up. As you stood your legs shook slightly, jotling if you put too much pressure on one leg. Miles stood up next to you and kept a close eye on you in case you fell over or needed help. The sight of your legs still shaking filled him with a sense of pride but he kept his laughter to himself for now. Walking wasn’t as terrible as you thought, sure the muscles in your leg ached but it was bearable. You slowly moved around the room gathering the clothes and gear you needed for the mission. Miles decided to leave you alone and finish up while he once again tried reaching out to Lyle. He stood in the main room constantly trying to call out to Lyle or the other squad members, unfortunately, nothing worked yet. From your room, you could hear his heavy footing and voice echo through the shack. He mumbled and growled at the monitors each time the words No Connection showed up. Just as he was about to lash out at the monitor you came out of your room fully dressed and ready. Your hair was pulled back into your signature bun and today's outfit was camo pants with a tank top and vest. Not only did you get redressed but you also changed your bandages. The wounds were starting to heal up but they still needed covering.

“Give it up Miles, it's not working. We’ve just got to find them.”

You slowly walked up to him and nudged his side trying to pull him away from the monitor. Again another frustrated groan came from him as he walked off and grabbed his things. He also packed a few more supplies in his bag like first aid, food, water, and a tablet. If Lyle and the others weren’t responding they must have lost their equipment. He threw his backpack on and walked to the door. You turned off the lights and shut down all the running equipment. Thankfully this place had extra oxygen packs so you grabbed another in case yours would run out. He waited patiently for you to put on your mask before opening the door and stepping out. It was quite early in the morning on Pandora, but the animals and creatures were lively. The warmth of the sun felt refreshing as you and he stepped out of the shack's cold atmosphere. You bathe in the sun’s warmth, letting your eyes flutter shut as your body takes in all that warmth. After Miles made sure the door was secured, he turned to you, watching your skin glow in the light. He smiled, his eyes softening at you, he wondered how someone was able to love this dangerous place so much. He didn’t like Pandora no matter how many missions he went on, but watching you, seeing the world through your eyes, slowly started to make him enjoy what Pandora had to offer.

“Come on now, let's get going. The only thing I was able to pick up on the monitors was their last known location. It's about 200 meters south from here before the equipment starts acting buggy.”

“Damn, that's a long walk…I don’t think I can walk that far without a few breaks Miles. Still sore you know.”

You say in a slightly annoyed tone as you turn around and look at him. Your hands propped on your hips and your head tilted to the sides. He looked back at you with his ears pointed back. His face grew a little deeper shade of blue as he remembered what happened last night. That detail had completely slipped his mind.

“Let’s keep walking for now and we’ll take breaks when you need em.”

“Fair enough, welp. Let's get moving then...”

You said in an unenthusiastic voice as you both started to walk. Instead of miles prideful strides, he slowed down to keep up with you. You walked at a slower pace than usual. Navigating the deep forest of pandora is ten times harder than before. At first, it was your height that made it difficult but now it was your height and legs. Miles stood close to you to help you over larger branches and other things that you couldn’t get over on your own. Thankfully the next resource you were gathering would be found near a water stream. It didn’t take much convincing to get miles to take you to the next spot on the mission. As eager as he was to find his men it was important to collect the samples too, without the samples the mission would be incomplete, and you know how he gets when something doesn’t go as planned. It took a while but eventually, the sound of rushing water grew louder. It was the sound of a waterfall spilling into a large winding river, one of many rivers in this forest. The land near the river was bustling with creatures, insects, and even more plants. At the riverbed were a small heard of wild dire horses feasting on some nearby plants. The site of them brings back an unpleasant memory of Miles killing one of them. You looked up at him to see if he too was looking at them. He averted his attention away from them, trying to look at something else but like always his hand was on his gun. You rolled your eyes at him and nudged him with your elbow.

“You don’t need a gun; we’re collecting samples from a plant. Calm your ass and come on, they’re over there.”

You pointed to the far end of the river where a few of the plants were. You rolled up your pants sleeves and started to venture into the water. This river's end wasn’t deep so walking across it was a breeze. The water was warm and crystal clear, you could see the small fish and scattered rocks that made up the river floor. You were headed for the plants while Miles was still on the opposite side of the water. Standing still and watching you, he didn’t want to get into the water but seeing you turn around and call him over, made him get in. He cautiously walked through the shallow water with you to the other side. The feeling of the warm water and the sound of the rushing water put him at ease. He loosened his tight grip on his weapon the closer to you he got, he was relaxing but his guard was still up. Finally, you both are across the river and by the planets.

“What the hell are those? They look like a fucked-up Catus.”

“It's called a Dapophet. This plant holds water and the na’vi sometimes break leaves off and drink the water from them. The substance inside of them has healing properties and when grounded down and eaten can soothe upset stomachs.”

“Wow, that’s not as lame as it sounds. If Lyle and the others are injured, we can give them some. Collect extra samples while you're down there.”

“You can help too ya know? if we're gonna be moving a lot the least you can do is help me with this. And be careful, only take a few leaves off each plant, they do grow back but some of the spikes can hurt you if you over-harvest them. Thanks!”

Since when were they the one bossing me around? He thought to himself as he gave you a harsh glare. He then rolled his eyes and scoffed, stooping down and helping you gather more leaves. As he gathered up leaves for you he grumbled under his breath, not enjoying this in the slightest but still doing it for you. He wasn’t quiet about it either. After a few minutes of gathering and properly storing the samples, you stop and look at the group of dire horses. An idea began to brew in your head the more you looked at them and him.

“Miles. I have an idea that could help us travel faster and find Lyle and the others too. But you won’t like it.”

“What is it then? Can’t be that bad.”

“We...I mean You, should tame the dire horse. They move fast and we can cover more ground on them.”

After you finished telling him your idea he looked away and at the horses. Did he want to ride them? No. But it was a good idea. This was a faster way to travel and they could find Lyle quicker too. He may not want to, but it was the better idea. He was taking the initiative.

“Alright, just give me a minute to figure this out.”

By figuring this out he meant taming the horse. He’s never tamed a pandora creature let alone try to interact with one without using violence. He was a violent man, he used violence to get what he wanted, and if it wasn’t by that it was with his harsh voice. Ording those underneath him around. But this time he couldn’t do that, yelling or using violence would make the creature run, so he had to do the opposite. He had to act the way he acts with you, calm, gentle, and considerate. He took his large shotgun and placed it on the ground, leaving it behind as he moved forward to the horses. He walked alongside the riverbed with his hands up in front. Showing he meant no harm. His tail swayed slowly and his breathing was calm. He was focused and dedicated to taming the creature. You sat down by his gun as you watched him pursue the direhorse. Seeing how calm he was instead of acting out with violence. Finally, he was in front of one of the horses, there she stood staring back at him. Miles slowly reached behind himself and took ahold of his braid, he stepped closer to the direhorse and carefully made the bond. The horse huffed heavily and bobbed its head to the side. Miles took a deep breath and stumbled back, he hadn’t felt anything like that before. It made his body shudder and his muscles tensed after the bond was made. He could feel her, and she could feel him, the connection was made and it was successful. You clapped and smiled at him, proud of him and glad you got to witness the bond being made.

“Good job Miles! I’ll bring your stuff over now!”

You shouted out to him, gathering up all his things as well as your things. Once you had everything you walked it over to miles. He had already gotten onto the horse and started to walk with her, trying to get the hang of it. You reached him up his things then he pulled you up and onto the horse. You were placed in front of him, your bag being in front of you to make it more comfortable for both of you. Your back pressed up and against his stomach and chest, his arms stretched beside you holding onto the neural whip. You admired the beautiful creature, how she breathed, how she trotted in place, how strong her heartbeat was. It was like a dream come true to see and be with her.

“You ready y/n?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I am.”

You smiled up at him and looked forward, placing one of your hands on the neural whip for extra support. He nodded and spoke the words “forward” to get the horse to move. It was a rough ride at the start but after a few minutes, the ride was easy. You still; held onto the whip for balance and Miles kept one of his hands on the whip as well but his other wrapped around you. Keeping you in place. It was an overall quiet ride only ever speaking if you saw something cool and wanted to show miles. It wasn’t an awkward silence but a comfortable one. He was pretty content and was more than happy to listen to you ramble on about Pandora life. He never would’ve thought to enjoy something like this yet here he was. The ride was going well, very well actually. But you can’t always trust the silence in a place as beautiful and dangerous as Pandora.

#miles quaritch #atwow fanfiction #avatar miles quaritch #atwow x reader #avatar twow #quaritch miles #atwow #avatar 2022 #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch fanfiction

21 notes · View notes

novankenn · 10 months

Text

2am (Chp 3)

--== Table of Contents ==--

About a week after Jaune had given Pyrrha her copy of the papers, he was in the gym, working some cardio, when a familiar ginger walked in front of him.

“What do you want Cardin? Here to rub you and Pyrrha in my face?” Jaune snarled, as he stopped the treadmill.

“Whoa, whoa, and whoa.” Cardin replied, pointing his finger at the blond before him. “That shit never happened. I've got my own girl, no need to go after someone else's.”

“Really? Amazingly considerate of you.”

“Fuck sake's Jaune. Where's all this coming from? I know I was an ass in school, but the whole second year class knows what you did for her.”

“What?”

“Everyone from our year knows, about your bundle of joy; and I can pretty much guarantee that everyone respects you for doing it.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To clear the air. Yang let me know what you said the day after the accident. It's not true.”

“What's not true, you being around her a lot?”

“I was around her, and all of those times it was me and Octavia making sure she was safe, especially when Yang and the others weren't around.” Cardin crossed his arms over his broad button-up shirt covered chest. “She never did tell me where you lived, so we'd let her crash and sober up on our couch.”

“And why should I believe that?”

“Believe or don't. I'll give you Octavia's number if you want. Ask her, she can confirm; but I'm just giving the truth about when I was around your girl. I have nothing against you Jaune, and Pyrrha's saved my ass more than a few times.”

“You swear that nothing happened?”

“I swear, nothing happened between Pyrrha and me, and nothing happened to her when I or Octavia was around.” Cardin relaxed his posture slightly when he noticed Jaune had done the same. “What's with you? You were never like this in school, even when I was picking on you.”

“I'm tired of her breaking promises to our daughter. Tired of her being drunk. Tired of scroll calls at 2am, that end up sounding like Az and I don't matter.”

“Shit.” Cardin rubbed the back of his head with his hand, “Az?”

“Azalea. That's our daughter.”

“Pretty name. Who picked it?”

“We both did.”

“So we are good, because I'm serious Jaune, nothing happened.”

“What about the accident?”

“She called Octavia asking for a ride, so I went down picked her up, and then ended up T-boned by a drunk.” Cardin sighed. “Pyrrha took the worst of it, because we were hit on the passenger side.”

“Shit.”

“So how is Pyrrha?”

“She looked worn out when I met her last week.”

“Last week? Though she was at your place healing up?”

“Nope.” Jaune popped the P. “Don't know where she is, and to be honest I don't really care right now.”

“What's going on, Jaune? If you don't mind me asking.”

“It's personal. Leave it at that.”

“Fair enough. So are we good?”

“Yeah.”

“If you ever want to talk, I'm told I can be a good listener.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Cardin nodded and walked off, leaving Jaune alone with his thoughts. Sighing, Jaune moved from the treadmills and straight to the heavy bags.

He grunted as his wrapped hands slammed into the thick canvas bag. His mind replying his recent conversation with Cardin. He had no reason to really believe anything Cardin was saying. For all Jaune knew, Cardin just came down here to cover his own ass. Jaune however also knew he had no proof one way or the other, so he just focused on driving all his frustration, regrets, and anger into his punches.

Cardin may have given him some answers, but there were still way too many questions. Questions he would never get an honest answer to. But even then would he even know an honest answer if he was given one?

#2am #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #azelea arc #No Fall of Beacon #jaune and pyrrha had a child #implied PAST arkos #jaune arc x reese chloris #skater boi

24 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 1 year

Text

Too Good to Be True - Ch 2

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | ??? | AO3

“Damn, girl,” Kim chuckled as he pulled his truck up in front of Marinette’s new home. “Not bad. You’ve got a yard and everything.”

“Yeah, thankfully Nonna pays someone to take care of it,” Marinette said, sticking her head out of the window to get a look around. There wasn’t any garden space, since Gina wasn’t around often enough to take care of one, but the two-story house had a wraparound porch with plenty of space for flower boxes if she had time to do some planting.

First things first though. “Let’s back the trailer in,” she decided, eyeballing the width of the street. She was pretty sure they could do it. “I’ll get out and direct.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kim rolled his eyes.

“Don’t roll over my neighbor’s lawns.” Marinette pointed a warning finger at him before she manhandled open the truck’s heavy door and slid the considerable distance to the ground. “I don’t want to make a bad impression.”

A short time and only a few near misses later, Kim had the truck and the rental trailer backed into the driveway. From the porch, Marinette looked at her now slightly crooked mailbox and sighed through her nose. They had way too much work to do for her to chew Kim out now. He would only get sillier if she tore into him and then he’d be completely useless. Instead she just turned and unlocked the door. She went inside to put some water bottles in the fridge while Kim threw up the trailer’s rollup door and pulled out the ramp. He joined her inside for a quick walkthrough, as she pointed out to him which rooms were which and where her color-coded boxes should go. Knowing he was probably only half listening, she put a sticker on each door frame for reference.

“All right, I think we’re ready,” Marinette sighed, rubbing her eyes with one hand. She wished she hadn’t stayed up so late with Alya, but it had been hard to be sensible when they knew it was the last time they would see each other for weeks. Besides, she probably would have been awake anyway, listening to the whirr of the hamster wheel in her brain. It was probably better that she’d been distracted, even if it meant she was more tired than she’d like to be.

“All right!” Kim whooped, punching both fists in the air. “Let’s get this party started!” Marinette shot him a look and he grinned back. “Fifteen minutes,” he said, pressing buttons on his watch. “Whoever hauls the most boxes in fifteen minutes gets to pick what we order for lunch.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but grinned. She was glad to have Kim here as much for his abilities as a hype man as for his muscles. It would keep her from getting depressed or lonely. Or overwhelmed. There was an awful lot of stuff crammed into that trailer, after all.

She would’ve let him pick lunch, anyway. “You’re on,” she said, and they shared a fistbump before Kim darted up the ramp into the trailer with another whoop.

Marinette followed, not quite running…but she wasn’t about to let Kim show her up, either. He’d never let her forget it. On her third trip up the ramp she nearly ran into Kim as he was coming down with two boxes stacked together.

“Don’t look now,” Marinette told him, “but I think we’re gathering an audience.”

“Where?” Kim tried to look around the boxes. “Are they hot?”

Marinette snorted, and stepped around him, pointing once she was behind the cover of the boxes. Kim looked over and saw an elderly lady studiously examining her flowering hedge with a pair of gardening shears in her hand. He deflated as Marinette giggled.

“It’s the wrong time of year to be pruning those,” she said, patting Kim’s arm as she passed him up the ramp. “I don’t think she’s actually looking at the hedge.”

Kim rolled his eyes and hiked the boxes up in his arms. “You’re just trying to distract me so you win, and it’s not gonna work.”

“Whatever,” Marinette replied, though with the noise he was making clattering back down the ramp she was sure he didn’t hear her. When she came down the ramp she glanced again toward her neighbor, and there was now another old lady on the sidewalk, chatting with the first over the hedge as they shot less-than-covert glances over at the truck and trailer. Marinette freed a hand and waved at them, and they smiled and waved back, nodding cheerfully.

Nosy, but harmless, she decided, carrying on with her unloading. She wanted to get Kim back on his way to the city before dark, if they could manage it, and that meant she didn’t have time to indulge her neighbors’ curiosity at the moment. Hopefully they wouldn’t think she was rude for not coming over to talk.

“Are you sure you didn’t accidentally move to a retirement home?” Kim asked her later. They sat on the porch steps, cheap wooden chopsticks in hand as they ate lunch straight out of the cardboard containers. Marinette couldn’t blame him for asking. Quite a number of neighbors had made their way past on one pretense or another, walking dogs or picking up papers or stopping to “visit” with the hedge neighbor. That lady continued to putter around in her garden, clearly watching, and was just as obviously enjoying being the one everyone stopped to ask for information. Though what she could possibly be telling them, Marinette couldn’t imagine.

She dropped her empty container and chopsticks back into the takeout bag and held it out to Kim so he could do the same.

“I guess we better do that bigass cabinet thing next,” Kim sighed, leaning back on one hand to chug the rest of his water.

“It’s not a cabinet,” Marinette shot back automatically as she tied the takeout bag shut around the trash. “It’s a chifforobe.”

“It’s a pain in the ass is what it is,” Kim groaned. “I regret ever helping you pick it up off the curb.”

Marinette ignored him. It was a beautiful piece of solid wood furniture that had only needed a little love, wood polish, and one new leg to be good as new. It was a perfect place to keep fabric since it had drawers and shelves to hold folded cut lengths, and a tall space that held full bolts. It was beautiful and inspiring all by itself, with carved leaves and flowers along it. Marinette had loved it since the moment she saw it sitting out with a pile of junk that even her grandfather would have called outdated.

She had to admit it was a pain in the ass to move, though, as she and Kim braced themselves on either side of it. It wasn’t the weight, although it was heavy, it was the height. Marinette could feel it wobble as they lifted, but they got the weight balanced so that it was mostly centered. They’d just have to be careful.

Marinette was walking backwards as Kim directed her. Her cheek was jammed against the side of the chifforobe so that she really couldn’t look behind her, but Kim was tall enough to brace it and still mostly see around, so she followed his directions. She got another look at Hedge Neighbor, who was watching them move the big piece of furniture with round eyes and a hand over her mouth, obviously concerned for them.

Honestly, how Alya could possibly think she could get into trouble in a neighborhood full of nice old grannies was really beyond—

“Kim!” she yelled as she felt the chifforobe tipping to one side. Kim only grunted in reply, already struggling to right it, and Marinette felt a moment of panic.

“Whoa.” Suddenly there was another pair of hands holding the sides of the chifforobe, and Marinette felt the weight shift back to where it belonged. “Easy, I got it.”

“Thanks man,” Kim panted. “Mind steadying it for us while we get it up the steps?”

“Sure,” said the voice. “Or I can take the other end if—”

“Nah, Mari can handle it,” Kim grinned cheerfully. “It’s just ‘cause it’s so tall. If you can just keep it from tipping we can handle it. Yeah, Mari?”

“As long as we do it sometime today, Kim,” she ground out, and the mystery person laughed.

“Right,” Kim chuckled breathlessly. “All right, go!”

Marinette felt backward with her foot, and then backed up the porch stairs without any further mishap. They kept going up the stairs inside, and with the help of the stranger, who kept the weight balanced where they needed it, they hauled the big thing all the way up to Marinette’s new studio.

They set it down and Kim let out a whoop, punching up with both fists. “Told you we could do it!”

“Yeah,” Marinette said dryly, straightening more slowly. “With a little help.” Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at their helper. Unlike the entire rest of the neighborhood, he looked around her own age, with sharp, striking features, blue eyes, and shaggy hair tinted blue at the ends. She smiled as she offered her hand. “Thanks for the save.”

“Happy to help,” he said, eyes fixed on her face as he moved to shake her hand. Awfully slowly, it seemed like, but then Marinette was in mission mode and everything seemed to go too slow for her today. “You’re moving in?”

“What gave it away?” she asked with a tired grin.

“Well, welcome to the neighborhood,” he said, pushing his hair back from his face. “I guess we’re neighbors.” He gestured to the side, in the opposite direction from Hedge Neighbor’s house. “I live next door. Name’s Luka, by the way.”

“Aww, Mari, already breaking hearts,” Kim laughed, and Marinette covered the distance between them in two wide steps to smack his arm.

“You are such a loser,” Marinette told him. “Come on, I’m not paying you to stand around.”

“You’re not paying me at all!” Kim complained, though he did start moving. Marinette followed him and Luka followed her back down the stairs.

“Cookies,” Marinette reminded Kim. “It counts.” She glanced over her shoulder at Luka. “I’ll bring you some too. As thanks for saving my favorite piece of furniture from crashing into the concrete.”

“I can’t say no to that.” His voice was low and amused, soft to her ears after Kim’s chronic shouting. Marinette looked back at him and smiled warmly. He seemed nice.

“Only an idiot would say no to Mari’s cookies,” Kim said, and then paused, seeming to consider what he’d said, and began to snicker. Marinette punched him in the arm again as she passed him.

“Whatever your filthy mind is thinking, keep it to yourself,” she sniffed.

“I’m just saying, everyone wants your cookies,” Kim snickered. “Nathaniel, Nino, Adr—” He cut off in a whoosh as Marinette turned and landed a small fist to his stomach.

“I can take you, Lê Chiến Kim,” she warned him, pointing a finger in his face as he bent over.

“Only because you cheat,” Kim wheezed.

Marinette rolled her eyes and looked at Luka. “Please ignore him. He was dropped on his head as a child.”

Luka snorted softly. “My sister and I are the same way. It’s how we show love.” He was still watching her, and if she hadn’t already been flushed from the exertion, she probably would have blushed. He was damn cute, but did he have to stare like that?

“We’re not related,” she said, wrinkling her nose at Kim. “Thank goodness. But we might as well be.” She sighed dramatically. “I’ll never be able to get rid of him.”

“I don’t know Mari,” Kim said, still rubbing his belly as he straightened and grinned at her. “Moving to Grannyville in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere might just do it.” He looked at Luka. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Luka replied, grinning, darting a glance at Kim before looking back at Marinette. “I didn’t even know Gina had the place on the market.”

“Oh, she didn’t,” Marinette assured him. “I’m her granddaughter. Since she’s hardly ever home anyway she offered the house to me, as long as I keep a place for her to sleep while she’s in town.”

“Sounds like a sweet deal,” Luka laughed. “I hardly ever see her, but I didn’t realize she was away that much.”

A little warning tingle in the back of Marinette’s mind reminded her that it might not be a great idea to publicize the fact that she'd be living here mostly alone—but if he lived next door he'd definitely figure it out anyway.

“Always on the move, that’s Nonna. Still, you never know when she's going to pop up,” she replied as cheerfully as she could, hoping to steer a middle ground.

Not that her neighbor was likely to try anything when he'd surely be the first suspect.

Ugh, Alya , she grumbled in her mind. She blinked as she realized Luka was speaking to her.

“Sorry, what?” she asked, bringing her mind back to the moment.

“Can I give you a hand with the rest of it?” Luka repeated, gesturing towards the trailer.

“Oh, no need, that was the last big piece,” Marinette said hurriedly, “Kim and I can handle the rest. I don't want to disrupt your whole day.” She gestured to his hands, which were adorned with several bandages. “Besides, you don’t look like you should be hauling stuff.”

“Oh.” Luka flushed and shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets. “It’s fine, just hazards of the trade. I work with a lot of sharp tools.”

“You know what that’s like, right Mari?” Kim grinned, shoving her shoulder. “How many burns did you pick up in the bakery this week?” He picked up her wrist, waving her own hand in front of her face, reminding her that there was a bandage on one side of it.

Marinette made a face at him and snatched her hand back.

“You’re a baker?” Luka asked, and Marinette stiffened, folding her arms.

“I’m a designer,” she said crisply. “My parents are bakers.”

Luka chuckled ruefully. “Ah. Rough being the family rebel, I know. Sorry for making assumptions.”

Marinette shrugged, suddenly embarrassed at her own defensiveness. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, dropping her hands to her hips. “Anyway, thanks again for your help. Sorry for taking up so much of your time.”

“I didn’t have any plans,” Luka shrugged. “But if you're sure, I'll leave you to it. You know where to find me if you change your mind.” He tipped his head towards his own house and gave her a slow smile. “Nice to meet you, Marinette. I'll see you around.”

Marinette smiled back, feeling a flutter in her belly. He really was good looking when he smiled like that. Intense, maybe, but—

Kim coughed, very unsubtly, and Luka and Marinette both jolted. She moved towards the trailer and he towards his house as Kim grinned at them both.

“Not a word,” Marinette hissed at him as she climbed back into the trailer.

“I can't believe you sent him away,” Kim complained. “We could have used the help.”

“We just met, I don't need a stranger all up in my things!” Marinette shot back. She glanced back towards Luka’s house as she walked down the ramp. There was a dark blue utility van parked in his driveway, she now saw. Maybe he had just gotten home? They’d gotten here pretty early. She wondered if he had stayed somewhere else the night before, or she had just missed him leaving earlier.

Kim’s voice right behind her made her jump. “He probably wouldn’t even know what half this stuff is. Hell I've known you for years and I still don't know what half of it is!”

They snarked back and forth in their usual, comfortable way as they hauled boxes and sewing equipment and secondhand furniture into the house. It seemed like it would take forever and then suddenly they were done, staring at the empty trailer.

“Well,” Kim said slowly, “I guess that's it.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, and had to swallow a lump in her throat. “I guess so.”

Kim dropped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. Marinette leaned into him, appreciating the gesture though she tried not to breathe. Neither of them were exactly fresh as daisies at this point.

“You should head back,” Marinette said reluctantly, glancing at the setting sun. “So at least you don’t have to make the whole trip back in the dark.”

“Yeah.” Kim cleared his throat, then dropped his arm and tried to grin. “Watch out for Hot Neighbor Dude. Pretty slim pickings around here and he was eyeing you up like a prime steak. Don’t give it up too easy.”

Marinette scoffed and folded her arms, but when Kim turned towards her and wrapped his arms around her, she couldn’t help hugging him back, sweaty and gross as he was. “Take care of yourself, Mari,” he said into her hair, and Marinette squeezed him tight.

Then she let go and stood back, smiling up at him. “I’ll be fine. We’re not that far from the city, and I’m sure I’ll be up at least once a month showing designs or buying fabric.”

“Yeah,” Kim agreed. He reached up and pulled down the trailer door. Marinette followed him to the door of his truck and stood there as he climbed up. He leaned out of the window, rubbing the back of his head. “Call me next time you come up, we’ll do lunch or whatever you high-powered fashion execs do.”

Marinette nodded and stepped back. “Don’t forget to drop the trailer off before noon tomorrow!” she called. Kim started the truck, waved one last time out of the window, and then pickup and trailer trundled off down the road.

Marinette stood there for a moment longer, folding her arms around herself. It was hard not to feel a little bit abandoned, even though this had been her own choice. In rational moments she knew it was the right choice, and the right time to make it.

She still felt alone, though.

Movement in the corner of her eye made her turn her head, and she thought she saw a shadow in the window of the neighbor’s house before the curtain fell closed again.

Luka? Her skin prickled at the thought that he was watching but she shook off the feeling. It was natural for him to be curious, she supposed. He seemed nice enough, if a little awkward, and she was hardly one to throw stones on that count. The memory of his smile brought a curve to her own lips.

Okay, enough moping.

She dusted herself off, and went back into the house. Gina had cleared out as much of her stuff as possible, and everything felt empty and echoing, even with Marinette’s stuff moved in. She hardly had enough stuff to fill the whole house, after all, and what she did have was mostly still packed up.

Well, nothing like a little bit of organizing to make you feel more in control of your life.

Marinette rubbed her hands together and looked around. “All right, time to get started.”

Fiction Master Post

#quickspins #too good to be true #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #pro lukamari #ml fics

35 notes · View notes

fizzingwizard · 7 months

Text

personal

My dad's shared a thing on Facebook which is about relationships, and how they aren't all heart eyes and rainbows all the time, and it takes more than just luck to make them last, it takes real commitment and understanding... All good so far.

My problem with it is it lists certain things couples in strong relationships do: compromise, overlook faults, forgive each other, endure problems.

All STILL good with me... if only it took care to mention as well something like "face one's own shortcomings" "divide the load fairly" "make an effort for each other's sake."

I know from watching my parents that just suffering together, because of each other, isn't enough to make a relationship last. Granted, my mom did a lot more of the compromising and overlooking of faults - my dad didn't bend on a lot, and he didn't often have anything to forgive my mom for.

But the thing is, my mom stayed married to him for over 25 years. The last ten, she told me, weren't great. The divorce was coming. However, she never knew it until the last moment - the moment when she finally decided. Before then, she always forgave, always overlooked, and endured endured endured.

When she decided to end it at last, she STILL gave my dad one last chance: she asked him to take her on a date. She wasn't expecting fireworks and the keys to the city. Just to be treated with attention, and made to feel wanted.

Well, my dad showed up for the date... And that's about all he did. There was no effort. It seemed like just another night. So she realized, this is what the future will be like if I stay with him. He's not going to change.

She put up with so much over the years. She wasn't a total pushover - she DID ask for help. My dad would always make an attempt at it... I can't really call it making an effort though. He would do whatever it was up to his standards, which could be pretty low, never to hers, which were NOT unreasonably high.

It's very important to see each other as flawed individuals and love each other in spite of our faults. But if you overlook every fault, out of love, and the other person doesn't take into consideration how their faults hurt you, then you'll just go on hurting indefinitely. That's what I'm saying. People can't change certain things, but other things they can, or at least they can figure out a new system or way to ensure their weak points aren't so crushingly heavy on their partners.

At home, my dad had an office. It was very small. But it was all his. It was covered in his stuff: train sets, Beatles paraphernalia, pictures of his youth. He had a keyboard and a computer and his guitar and he would make music in there, or watch TV, for hours and hours, only coming out to eat dinner. Meanwhile, my mom didn't have any space for herself. Why couldn't she have their bedroom? Well, because my dad insisted on a very large bed. In his defense, he's a big guy. But I'm not kidding when I say that aside from that bed, there was barely enough room for one person to shimmy in and out of the room. It was NOT my mom's space, and she often didn't even sleep in it because of my dad's snoring (OR his white noise machine).

We all knew my mom wanted her own space. She told us. We had a basement that was mostly finished and didn't get used that much, so she decided to make herself a space down there. What my dad should have done was prioritize that. My mom hadn't had any space to herself at all since having kids - we were teens by then and my parents had owned the house for a few years. She worked and took care of us and did the errands and cooked the meals and and and... My dad pretty much just went to work and came home most of the time. (Not to make him sound lazy: he also did the mowing, maintenance work around the house and most of the driving. The thing is the stuff my mom did was daily. His was extras that cropped up only at certain times.) It should have been obvious to my dad that my mom didn't only deserve her own space, she needed it. But he left it to her. Meanwhile, various things going on, house renovations, etc, meant that making my mom's space got pushed back and back and back, and the available space as well got smaller and smaller. In the end all she had was a desk in the wide open basement that anyone could come to any time, whereas my dad's office had its own door.

It's stuff like that which gets me. It would have been an act of love to notice your partner needs something and help them get it. But to my dad, it was no different than my mom saying she wanted a manicure: just for fun, and while of course he supported her in it, it was totally on her to go and get.

We kids followed my dad's example in regards to my mom. When she was upset, he would line us up and make us listen to her yell and cry. This didn't happen often (years later she blamed PMS, and after said migraines - honestly though I think it was just way too much cumulative stress and no support). But when it did, the idea was pretty much just for us to listen to her. And then nothing would change. At first we could say it was because my dad had a full time job and was tired enough himself. But he lost the job and never really had one after that. He was just home. And then it was, well, he's depressed. But it continued even when he got pretty comfortable. My dad is interesting in that he can be very sentimental and reflective at times, but always has a strong enough self-love to power through. (This describes me too. It's an aspect of myself I like and am grateful for. But, as much as I do love my dad, I also really, really struggle with every way I resemble him.) And we are talking many years here, during which time my brother's mental health collapsed too, and my dad didn't help by always getting in fights with him. My mom wound up supporting my dad and my brother pretty much by herself. She did her best to support me too. But I was at college and tried hard to just not need support.

My dad definitely was capable of doing more for my mom the whole time. He just didn't. His life was comfortable and convenient, and he considered it her job to make sure, if she needed something, she would ask for it. But when she did ask, it led to nothing, or only an attempt at it. (I'll never forget the year he got her a snuggie for Christmas and she was like -___- and I gave her jewelry I picked out while considering her style and she liked it so much that he got jealous :P) At that point, in his eyes, it was her job to not only ask for things, but to make sure he knew just how much she wanted it. Like there are degrees to requests from your partner. I mean, sure, "I'm having a heart attack and need to be rushed to the hospital" is definitely more pressing than "I need more help with housework." But that housework request still isn't something you can just ignore until your partner starts nagging (aka having the audacity to ask you again for what you didn't do the first time around), in which case you worm out of it or do as little of it as possible... I mean come on.

I so wish that as a kid I'd had more clarity about my parents' relationship. But they said everything was okay, and I didn't know how any other relationships looked, so I just believed them. My mom of course didn't want to bad mouth my dad to me. But I wish she would have been more honest while I was at least high school age. I loved both my parents and couldn't pick a side, but I could have been more understanding of how difficult it was for my mom on a daily basis. My mom is too nice to have said anything that would make me resent my dad. Not to mention, my dad, although he has many good points, is also perfectly good at making people resent him all by himself.

So yeah. Love is forgiving and enduring and all that. But it's NOT just getting steamrollered by a partner who says "Love is accepting me exactly as I am."

Geez, another memory: My brother was having a bad day during the worst years of his mental health problems. I guess he was 18 or 19 then. I was home from college for Christmas. I had spent every day listening to him and how he talked to us all, especially to my mom, who only ever supported him. I had been reading Captain Awkward religiously, trying to learn how to support my brother, while also supporting my parents, and not be ignorant. I told my mom about a Captain Awkward post that talked about letting your loved one with mental illness know how their treatment of you is affecting you in a loving and understanding manner. It pretty much said, being supportive isn't the same as being a doormat. I mean this stuff lasts years - decades. Getting angry and blaming the person who is going through so much is never the way, but there were some example phrases that could be used to try to meet in the middle and create some peace for a while. Well, I convinced my mom to try it. I heard everything she said to my brother. Her voice was low, gentle, and not accusing. My brother shouted so loudly it made me jump all the way in the other room, and send my mom racing down the hallway in shock. My brother came after roaring about how no one understood him or cared about him. For him, that's where he was at, I guess. He's doing much better now, and we've loved him and have been proud of him the whole time.

But. Please think of my mother. Who was going through that sort of thing constantly, without so much as an apology. She's given her heart, her time, and even her money to take care of her family whenever we were in need, and she really never got anything much back. Even me, although I've been one of the fortunate ones not to have mental illness, and to be able to take of myself for the most part. I used to dream of making some money and sending my mom on the trip to Italy she's always dreamed of. I have no money. I chose to teach pre-K like an idiot. I love it but the salary is peanuts and no one's had a raise in ten years. And I lost so much of my savings just paying off student loans. It'll take a miracle to get me to a point of financial stability where I'm able to do that kind of nice thing for my mom while she's still independent and able to go do it. As a teenager I didn't understand why money was so important, because I had no idea how much of it you need just to get by, let alone have any extras. And I developed a personality that is just the worst possible for selling anything. I can't even sell my school lol. I can't lie at all. If I think something is stupid I can't hide it. In that way I'm my own worst enemy every single day.

I'm making myself upset now :P

#personal

10 notes · View notes

incorrectcats · 2 years

Text

So, as I promised, here is my overly obsessive, too enthusiastic, and probably poorly written and structured mess of an analysis of the song Kaisarion. Because I love it wholeheartedly and I need to share all this love with the world.

But, first things first: sorry in advance if this turns up to be way too long. It may happen. I just can’t shut up about this. And of course, this is just my opinion and interpretation, and in no way, shape or form is this any kind of irrevocable truth and, at the end of the day, every song is just partially what the author meant and partially what us, listeners, understood of it and how we translated it to our own experiences and feelings.

Lastly, as always: English is not my first language, I’ll try to be as clear as possible hehe.

Okay, LET’S GO.

To me, Kaisarion —as many other Ghost songs— is about embracing the very cause of your downfall. It’s about turning your back to what you’ve been told is good and sacred and righteous, and finding your own way to happiness. It’s a song telling you “it’s okay if you’ve been cast out, because we’re here, waiting for you down here”. And, taking this into consideration, the lyrics are very interesting.

But first, a bit of history!

In Kaisarion, we’re being told two different stories: one that is linked to the lyrics and their literal interpretation and the other one, more emotionally-based and metaphorical. Impera is an album about empires and, more precisely, about the fall of those empires, and the word “kaisarion” refers to the Caesareum of Alexandria, an ancient temple in Egypt where Hypatia, the Greek philosopher and mathematician, was murdered (we’ll come back to this later). “Kaisarion” is also very close to the word “kaiser”, which was the name given to the German emperors and, at the same time, which is a word derived from Latin, like any other “caesar”-related word (including, for instance, the Russian “tsar”).

So, just with the title, we already have a very powerful imagery right before us, but the true meaning lies beyond the title, because here’s where things get wild and where our dear and terribly mistreated Hypatia comes into play. Because Hypatia sought shelter in the Caesareum when she was being persecuted by a Christian mob and, sadly, didn’t find what she was looking for. The mob found her in the temple, and well… We know the ending of the story.

Which is kind of ironic, because the Caesareum was a temple conceived by an Egyptian queen in memory of her Roman lover (allegedly) and later finished by yet another Roman dude (Augustus, you may know him-). And all of them were pagans, one of the reasons why Hypatia met such a tragic end.

And, amongst many other things, that’s what Kaisarion is about: is about injustice, about a society that preaches one thing and acts the opposite, about false appearances, about prideful ignorance, about the violent repression of any kind of diversity or difference. We can see it reflected in the lyrics of the song:

“Our brotherhood of good faith sealed an apostate witch's doom”

Here, the apostate witch would be Hypatia, and her murder, as the ellimination of many other pagan people and temples, would be the seal that strengthen the foundations of Christianity which, despite being a religion with a relatively pacifist dogma, had caused the uprise of pretty violent mobs in its first centuries. (NOTE: with this I don’t mean to say that this violent reaction is an exclusive Chistian thing. Not at all. It’s very similar to many other historical processes where a social group goes from being under a heavy oppression/opposition to gaining a lot of power in a relatively short amount of time. But that’s another story for another time.)

Another of the lines that shows this glorified violence is in the first pre-chorus:

“It's the smell of the burning temples swept away by rhymes”

The “burning temples” could refer to the library of Alexandria or to the pagan temples, and the “rhymes” could be related to Christian canticles, which is something that, I think, is very linked to the collective imaginary of Christianity (see, for instance, Gregorian chant, choirs, etc.).

This idea of evil-disguised-as-good can also be found in the second verse:

“Kaisarion, a matter of love

When Mother Earth is calling for a father up above

Kaisarion, put on the smiles

And throw your holy rocks right at her for her satanic wiles”

And I could keep commenting on this, because it’s such an interesting topic, BUT, we need to move forward, because in the second pre-chorus there are some of my personal favourite lines:

“It's the truth of candor shone through the prism of deceit

It's the continence of bishops with their choirboys en-suite

It's the tongue selling adulation that licks to no avail

It's the noise of the righteous dogma that hides the handmaid's tail”

Here, we find again this idea of hypocrisy and fake virtue used as a rug behind which all the dark and evil stuff can be found. But with that last line, I just- *screams into the void* Sorry, I need to express how clever it is, how TF plays with words and creates whole narratives out of single sentences.

“It's the noise of the righteous dogma that hides the handmaid's tail”

The “noise” of a “righteous dogma” already tells us what we’re dealing with: it’s not a whisper, it’s not a sound; it’s a *noise*. It’s loud, and probably obnoxious, and it pretends to convey a message of justice and goodness when, in reality, it “hides the handmaid’s tail”. And please, note that, apparently, the lyrics say “tail” and not “tale”, AS I THOUGHT IT SAID UNTIL LITERALLY A MINUTE AGO WHEN I READ THIS:

“The emphasis of ‘tail’ rather than tale if this is indeed the correct lyric could be clever word play to bring about a more animalistic nature in these hidden ideals within the perpetuation of any ‘dogma’, presenting it almost as a wolf in sheep’s clothing, hidden behind the bright innocent exterior that most groups interested in persuading others to their cause, whatever their purpose, try to perpetuate.”

It’s… It’s just fucking brilliant. For real. I’m absolutely speechless, staring at my laptop with a dumbfounded smile.

And, finally, there’s the chorus:

“Far away from the stench of the heavens

Long ago, yet too close to forever

When a paradise is lost, go straight to…”

These are the phrases that are sung side by side with the name of Hypatia.

And, this is the thing: although this is a song about the building of an empire on the foundations of the destruction of what preceded it, about blinding pride and fanaticism, violence and intolerance… This is also a song about deception.

About pretending to be what one is not.

And that’s why, despite being a song apparently sung from the perspective of the mobs that murdered Hypatia, the true singer of this song is our dearly beloved Papa, and this unholy smartass is not praising what these mobs, moved by fanaticism and hatred, did and enforced. He’s laughing at it. He’s exposing it. He’s forcing us to look at it, and then he points in the opposite direction.

Because, when paradise is lost you go straight to…

Yeah, to the Antipope.

(I don’t know if he still does this, but I’ve seen performances where, after “go straight to”, he yells “HELL” and- I mean, the drums go on a descending scale at the end of the song, which yeah… Something something, using sounds as metaphors for words, something something…)

Replicating what Lucifer and all the fallen angels did in John Milton’s Paradise Lost, Papa tells us that, maybe, there’s another place to be. A different way to go. And that, if we’re rejected by this society for whatever reason, if we’re deemed unworthy of respect, maybe we should turn our backs to it and go. Because there’s many others like us, the dispossessed and the disinherited, and we don’t need all this fake ass righteousness.

We shall find a place of our own “far away from the stench of the heavens”.

As a queer woman, there are many Ghost songs that make me feel this very particular kind of pride for being who I am and, above all, living my life unapologetically. It’s a message of self-love, but also a message of companionship, of community and finding strength in other stray kids like you. It’s very heartwarming, and very personal, often feeling like a helping hand whenever you’re lonely and helpless, navigating difficult times. I think it’s one of the many reasons why so many people feel attached to this band and its songs.

In conclusion, Kaisarion is a wonderful album-opener (well, besides Imperium) and TF does something amazing, with words and with music, but also with ideas and with thoughts. This song is a masterpiece in its own and, although I can’t quite analise it from a musical perspective (because I don’t know shit about music lol), I’m glad I could ramble about my love for its lyrics and history.

Now give this Antipope another Grammy-

#the band ghost #ghost the band #ghost bc #kaisarion #impera #ghost impera #papa emeritus iv #popia #classic references #historian shit #lis.txt #tobias forge #ghost lyrics #lyric analysis #imperatour #oof it's really long yay #i spend my afternoon doing this and i still feel like i could talk for hours #never ask a historian about anything #we're insufferable

67 notes · View notes

84reedsy · 2 days

Text

The Mentorship, Part 13

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 13 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 3486

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

The ride to Omaha was more tense than any other. Curt had tried to talk to her that morning, but she made no qualms about not being interested in conversing.

Scott could tell something was up and it bothered him. He worried that things may have happened even though Curt and Brinkley had agreed to stop. If anything, he could empathize with having trouble resisting her. She was like a drug that would be hard to kick. But he wanted to trust her and he wanted her all to himself. He was not used to being the jealous type - he didn’t want to start now.

Brinkley grabbed her bag and walked ahead of them both. Scott felt a rock in the pit of his stomach, looking at Curt as they followed her at a distance.

“She seems pretty ticked off,” He observed, hoping Curt would offer up more information.

“Yeah…” He sighed heavily, “We kinda got into it last night, argument over next week. She stormed out and got her own room,” He knew Scott was worried firstly that they’d slept together again. At this moment, Curt felt so shitty, he wished that was the actual problem instead of what had happened.

“Next week? You mean her coming to Florida? That was my idea, man,” He wanted to make sure the blame was on him if that was the cause of the problem, “Told her I’d get her a ticket to fly out with me tonight,”

“I was drunk…told her she needed to keep training and should come to Minnesota instead.” He held up his hand in defeat, “But it was her decision, she’s going to Florida and I’m not gonna get in the way of that. I just wish she’d let me apologize. I feel like a royal prick,”

Scott breathed a sigh of relief; for a moment he wasn’t sure what to think of Curt’s insistence that she follow his orders. He couldn't say he'd never been bossy…even with Brinkley. But he was dating her, Curt wasn't.

He grinned to himself as he thought that again. Dating. He never would have thought it would be happening to him at this point. And definitely wouldn't have imagined with her.

“She'll settle down, she cools off eventually,” Scott tried to offer some reassuring words.

Curt knew the things he left out were what really haunted him.

Brinkley snuck off to the shower area to change for the show. Beforehand the showers were usually abandoned. She slipped on her costume shorts and laced up her boots first. She was careful to lift her shirt over her head, wincing as she pulled the sleeve off her arm.

It looked a little worse than when she woke up. There were tell-tale horizontal lines of bruises around her upper arm and the soreness persisted even without moving it. She knew he didn't mean to do it, but she was no less angry about it. She knew she had to cover it with her long sleeve top, but was not looking forward to pulling the tight fabric around it.

She heard heavy footsteps approaching and quickly zipped her sports bra back up and tried to grab her shirt. A large figure came around the corner and stopped, staring at her.

“Brink?” Kevin furrowed his brow in confusion, “What the hell are you doing back here?”

She was half dressed but covered enough. She turned so her arm was pointed away from him. Standing with her side to him seemed awkward, but she didn't know how else to conceal it.

“Just…wanted to be alone for a minute…” she fibbed, holding up her ring top, “trying to get ready,”

“Don't let me stop you,” he gestured towards her to keep going, “Nothing I haven't seen before. Plus Scott talks about your tits in his sleep,”

“No he fucking doesn't,” she looked at him only now seeing he was joking, “very funny,” she knew her positioning was increasingly awkward.

“... You sure you're OK?” He looked her over, noticing her odd body language, “If you're waiting for Scott he's gonna be a minute.”

She waved him off with her other arm facing him.

“No, just get outta here so I can get dressed. I gotta get all gussied up to go have you guys stalk me in the ring, remember?” She was relieved that Kevin was being cordial, but needed him to leave.

“Alright, alright,” he rolled his eyes as he turned the corner towards the main locker room.

Brinkley waited a moment before she slipped off the bra and slipped her right arm in its sleeve. She turned now, trying to ease in her left. She winced and moaned a little in pain as the welt burned.

Kevin waited in the hallway a short time before sneaking back to the doorway. Something told him that something wasn't right. He peeked around the doorway, first noticing her tits, only one of them was partially covered. Scott definitely wasn't lying about those. But his eyes caught something else that stood out, the deepening purple of a very specific bruise that was keeping her from dressing quickly. He gave up his stealthy hiding spot.

“What the fuck is that on your arm?!” He approached her with a dedicated stride.

Brinkley jumped from his abrupt approach, her hand quickly covering her exposed chest and trying to turn away from him again.

“Jesus Kevin! Get outta here! I'm trying to get dressed, you perv!” She was stopped from turning away completely, Kevin using his long reach to grab her wrist. She yelped a little as he inadvertently yanked her arm.

He turned her back around, seeing the lines on her arm as if someone's hand had been on her.

“I've seen tits before, Brinkley. But what is this? “ he motioned towards the marks, softening his grip on her wrist.

“It's nothing,” she murmured, not looking at him, “it just popped up,” she felt embarrassed now.

“The fuck it did. Did someone hit you?” He looked over the rest of her not seeing any other glaring marks.

“No…nobody hit me,” she desperately wished he'd just let her get dressed, “Just grabbed me a little bit…”

“Was it Scott?” Kevin may not have been the biggest fan of what they were doing but he would be damned if he stood by and let anyone beat on a woman.

“No! No, Scott wouldn't do that…” she quickly attested.

“Curt?” To Kevin it was the only other obvious choice besides a random encounter. Her silence clued him in, “Brinkley, did Curt do this?”

“I…,” she swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, “He was drunk last night. I shouldn't have started an argument knowing he'd been drinking,”

“Fuck that, he should keep his hands to himself regardless,” he ran his thumb over a deeper color and she hissed a little, “This NOT okay - no one has the right to put hands on you.” Kevin felt a slowly forming anger swirling in him.

Brinkley felt oddly comforted by his concern and affirmation.

“Please don't say anything,” she begged, knowing that Scott would notice sooner than later, “please don't make it into a big deal,” she begged, trying to meet his eyes.

Kevin exhaled firmly from his nose, not liking the idea.

“Not during the show. But if I see him after, that's a different story,” he promised.

“Can you…can you help me?” she gestured towards her top, “Not sure how else to get it on…”

Kev nodded, grabbing the loose arm of the top, trying his best to ignore her chest as she stopped covering herself. He could see her blushing but he decided she'd had enough of guys being dicks to her lately. He zipped the top, helping her adjust and secure it.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, embarrassed at the idea that he had seen her breasts. But he made no mention, joke, or teasing comment about them.

“You're welcome,” Kevin stood, grabbing her bag, “Good thing you are training with us now. I'll be damned if he thinks he's gonna be alone with you again.”

“That's what the argument was about,” she admitted, following him closely.

“Jealous prick,” he sneered, shaking his head, “Here, let me get you something to take the edge off,” he said as they reached the empty locker room. He set her bag down and rummaged through his own, pulling out a prescription pill bottle.

She looked at him apprehensively, “I don't take drugs,” she spoke up seeing a flat, white pill in his palm.

“I'm not saying make it a habit. Take just one. “ he held it out for her, “We eat Somas like candy, one will not hurt you,”

The idea of trying to work in the ring with only one good arm made her take the pill and swallow it.

“I know you're just being nice to me because you're feeling sorry for me…but…thanks,” she murmured, watching as he oiled his arms and chest.

“I'm being nice to you because I'm actually not as big of a dick as you think I am. And…I have to admit that you may not be the worst thing in the world for Scott.” He admitted, begrudgingly.

“Slow down with the compliments, big man,” she teased, “I'm not used to this from you,”

“Well you better…I think Scott's planning on keeping you around a while,” he watched her face light up even as she looked away. She obviously felt the same, “Just keep your pants on while we are training and we'll be cool.”

“Deal,” she reached out with her right arm to shake his hand.

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

The gorilla was tense, Scott being the only one oblivious to the reason. Curt could tell by the snide glare from Kevin that he likely knew. He was relieved when Scott and Kevin walked first.

“Brinkley, please let me apologize,” he spoke quickly, knowing they didn't have much time.

“I really am not ready to talk to you,” she said firmly, but felt her throat ache a little as if holding back an emotional reaction, “And definitely not right now,” she wanted to focus on the job more than anything right now.

“Did you tell Scott and Kevin?” He asked, peering out of the curtain at the two men taking her from him.

“No, I didn't tell either,” she harshly whispered, “But Kevin saw my arm and pretty much figured it out,”

“Saw your arm? Jesus, Brinkley, I didn't know I really hurt you that bad…” He reached for her out of concern but she stepped away from his touch.

“Don't. Touch. Me.” She warned him, “Unless it's for the show, in front of fans, you don't get to touch me at all,”

Curt's arm dropped, seeing the apprehension in her eyes; a look she had never given him before.

She kept her word, acting no differently as his valet. She played into the attention of Scott and Kevin, snapping back to Curt when he'd call for her. He got the three count as she distracted Scott before he received Curt's finishing suplex.

As Brinkley and Curt walked up the ramp, Scott and Kevin got on the mic to issue the pay per view challenge, naming her as the prize in the match. They both feigned surprise, but Curt agreed as planned and Brinkley protested animatedly as rehearsed.

“Careful Hennig, or we might just grab her away from you,” Kevin said, leaning against the top rope with a shit-eating smirk.

Curt wasn’t sure what to make of the remark, taking Brinkley by the left arm and steering her back to the curtain. Once behind the privacy of the gorilla, she yanked her arm away from him, wincing.

He grabbed her forearm instead and quickly pulled her behind him down an opposite hall from where their locker room was.

“I’m not in the mood, Curt,” She told him, trying not to make a scene, but he pulled her into the empty medical office and shut the door behind him, “And I said don't touch me. You're lucky I didn't make a fucking scene,” she wasn't sure why she didn't.

“Brinkley, please just let me talk to you,” He pleaded with her, “You have every right to be mad at me,” He held up his hands, “But don’t leave with things like this. We’ve been through too much together -”

“Don’t you dare try to make this something I need to fix. YOU are the one that fucked up,” She countered, refusing to shoulder the blame of not forgiving him if she didn’t want to.

“You��re right,” He conceded, “But I don’t want to leave you with things like this. I don’t want you to resent me,”

“And why shouldn’t I,” She felt emotions creeping in and hated it. She knew she didn’t want to hate him, but it would make leaving tonight much easier, “Maybe it's better than we just call it from here,”

“Is that what you really want?” Curt asked, looking defeated, “If you really just want to cut it off right here, right now…I’ll agree to it if that’s what you want.”

Brinkley looked down, hugging her arms around her middle. Of course that’s not what she wanted. She would feel lost without his guidance even if she wasn’t training with him. She wouldn’t be here without him.

“No,” She quickly wiped away a hot tear that escaped down her cheek, “It’s not what I want, Curt…I’m just really hurt and angry and I want you to feel really bad,”

He felt a stabbing pain in his gut when she had to wipe that tear away, “Brink I do. I feel worse than I’ve felt in a really, really long time. I’m going to be honest, cheating on my wife doesn’t make me feel as bad as this…”

Brinkley looked up at him, seriousness still written on her face.

“That shouldn’t make me feel any better,” She leaned back against the exam table, “You should feel bad for both…” She tried not to look at his face too long, the regret etched in his features was tugging at her empathy. She hated that she was such a softie sometimes. She needed to be more resolute if she didn’t want to be walked all over.

“I do, baby girl, I do,” He stepped towards her. She didn’t wince or stop him as he approached, “I’ll do whatever you want for me to make it up to you,”

“Anything, huh?” She thought of the quid-pro-quo with Scott at the bar - how he’d told her to give Kevin a lap dance. The thought of giving him the same ultimatum was instantly amusing to her. She couldn’t subdue the smile that spread across her lips.

“Not sure I wanna know,” He couldn’t help but smile, too. Her’s was always contagious, he couldn’t help it, “but what is it,”

“Do you mean it? Whatever I want?” She squinted her eyes at him, testing his sincerity.

“Anything,” he felt nervous, wondering what she was concocting. She'd shown promise as a prankster, he could really be in for it.

“Can I save it for when we're back on the road?” She asked, thinking something in her back pocket may come in useful.

Curt couldn't help but look disappointed. He knew what he wanted her to ask for…but that was likely just his wishful thinking.

“I…I guess,” his shoulders lowered a little, his eyes looking to her arm, Brinkley…. can I…can you show me what I did?” He knew his time was running short. Scott and Kevin were probably already looking everywhere for her.

She looked at her arm for a moment before she nodded, “You can't touch me,” she reminded him and he nodded agreeingly.

She sighed, lowering the zipper, there was no way to show him without exposing herself, if anything he deserved the torture. She shrugged off the top from her right side, careful when pulling down the left. She peeled It slowly, wincing again as the blackened bruising appeared,

“It doesn't hurt that much, right now,” Brinkley failed to mention Kevin's pills.

“Holy fuck…Brinkley…” Curt couldn't even say the word sorry, it fell so far short of what he needed to say. He was embarrassed of himself. He tried his hardest not to let himself glance at her chest, but he hated looking at the mark he left on her, “I'm the biggest asshole in this whole place,”

“For once, I'm not arguing,” she added, turning her arm over to view the other side, “I'm going to have to figure out how to cover it with my new gear.”

Curt felt even worse thinking about her having to go around with this reminder. He'd have to do something huge for her of his own motivation.

“I'll buy you anything you need, any more gear, anything at all. It's on me,” He offered quickly.

“Even if it's to match Scott and Kevin's gear?” She postured, pulling the sleeve back over her arm.

“Yes…even that,” he watched her put her other arm through its sleeve, “May I? Just help…” he motioned towards her zipper.

She looked at him for a moment before nodding. He stretched each side of the top, corralling each breast as he tried to secure the bottom of the zipper. Each one bubbled under the tightness of the fabric and it was obvious that Curt was looking. But he only zipped the top, a little higher than normal. He dropped his hands, not allowing them to linger at all. Brinkley appreciated that and for a moment, her anger lifted.

She leaned forward, her arms encircling his shoulders as she buried her nose against his neck, he only waited a moment to return the embrace, squeezing her to him.

“I don't LIKE being mad at you,” She mumbled, somehow feeling safe against the same man who'd hurt her, “But I HAVE to be…”

Curt lay his cheek against the top of her head, breathing her in, “I don't like it either, baby girl, but I know you have to,” He let his hand run across her back soothingly. He felt lucky that she allowed him this. He hoped in the separation she'd continue to forgive him and not regress. But he couldn't do anything about that when they'd be thousands of miles apart.

“You should go…I have to go find those two. Probably better if they don't see you,” Brinkley warned, still holding on to him.

“Maybe you'd feel better if they beat the shit out of me, “ He joked a little, but she just shook her head.

“It wouldn't,” She pulled away from him slowly.

As Brinkley entered the locker room, she wondered if she'd missed some sort of natural disaster. Stuff was thrown all around the room. She quickly realized that it was Curt's things. Scott looked angry, but immediately relieved when he saw her.

“Jesus, where were you??” He asked walking up to her and pulling her into his chest. She glanced at Kevin: he must've told Scott.

“I was just talking to Fyre and Spice…” She fibbed, not wanting to stir the pot anymore.

“I swear to god, I'll kill the mother fucker the next time I see him,” Scott seethed, holding her possessively against him.

She couldn’t deny she liked his protective attention; any excuse she could have to press against his chest was a welcome one.

“I want to leave it alone…for now,” She said, both men looking less than agreeable, “Just until we get back on tour. I just want to get out of here,” She tried further convincing them to avoid any altercations tonight, “Please,”

Scott sighed, irked by the idea of not giving Curt a piece of his mind and his fist, but he knew she was right. It would be better to leave and let cooler heads prevail in a few days. He’d probably still deck him, though.

“Fine. Grab your stuff, we’re riding with Kev,” He let her go, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through him.

“Maybe I take the long way to the car?” Kevin said quietly to Scott, who nodded. He turned to leave stealthily as more people poured into the locker room.

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

“Where is he, I thought he was coming out earlier?” Brinkley looked around the parking lot as she and Scott waited by Kevin’s rental car.

“You know how he likes to talk, someone probably sidetracked him,” Scott shrugged, but saw a large frame heading their way, “Finally,”. He noticed Kevin shaking his hand a little, as if his knuckles may have been sore.

“Sorry, got pulled into something,” Kevin fibbed as he unlocked the car. He and Scott made glancing eye contact.

Brinkley was clearly in the dark, she made no mention of any suspicion. She did feel a sense of immense relief later as the plane took off over the dark Midwest. She was ready for a change of scenery.

#wrestling fan fic #wrestling fic #wrestling fanfiction #curt hennig #wcw #wwe #wrestling #fanfiction #pro wrestling #1999 #Scott hall #kevin nash #The Mentorship #wrestling smut #cameos by a lot of wrestlers

4 notes · View notes

fangsforhire · 3 months

Text

starredshield bared their pretty throat : 💋

‘Seems the entire world is wrong about you, huh? Pity.’ A soft tssk was given, almost mocking in nature as manicured nails caressed the super soldier's facial features, having prowled forwards, backing him into a wall. He’d told himself that he’d so far been gracious, practically a gentleman in response to Steve’s advances. ( Yet there was no denying the thrill of playing with someone whose power level surpassed humanities understanding. ) Rogers might pretend to be pure but then how could it be that he craved the opportunity to sin? He’d confessed himself that dark impulses were forever being subdued within.

He might hold himself, high and mighty - but they both knew better didn’t they? Besides, Lucien was a predator, and like a cat toying with a mouse, he gripped his jaw, squeezing it lightly. His own eyes had blackened with lust and desire, the never satisfied hunger stirring in response to the sensation of soft skin underneath his fingertips. Patting him, he considered his prize, one knee pressed up against his crotch as his heavy breath lingered close to his mouth.

When the kiss finally came, it was bruising, hot, wet and heavy. Steve’s lips caught between his teeth, and he allowed himself to indulge, a groan escaping his mouth. Still pinned up against him, he forced his head back, moving then to his throat, dragging his tongue across his pulse point, fangs throbbing, and emerging to graze teasingly against his adam's apple, feeling the way his body responded beautifully, provoking a soft hum of consideration. ‘Now, what to do with you my poor deprived pet, hm? I can feel how much you want me, those tell tale signs give you away. The goosebumps on your neck, how fast your heart is racing. You want me to kiss you again? Slow. Deep. My tongue moving down your neck, your stomach; all the way until I’m underneath the surface of your shirt. Fingers sliding into your trousers, caressing your cock. You want me to debase, to harm. To whip and fuck you raw until your legs turn to jelly and your mind is hazy. Nothing better, no? Oh yes. Done right it’s true fucking ecstasy. Then again….’ There was a cruelty you couldn’t mistake, smirk playing across his lips as he drew back, rolling on the balls of his feet. While he was hypersexual what he loved more than anything was to tease and drive someone to desperation; a master of seduction in his own right. ( He much preferred it when they were quaking with need, craving his attention, thinking of nothing but his hands exploring their body, finding their sensitive spots. ) His words held honesty; he had memorised the human body well. He knew what made a person tick. Made them crumble. If Rogers wanted him; it made this all the more entertaining. ‘It’s amusing watching you trying to resist when we both know, deep down, I could easily turn you into a pathetic cumdump, that’s begging to choke on my cock and, do you really deserve a reward for lying to yourself, Hm? What do you think?’

#starredshield #ℒ | Yeah it's way too many feels ; way too much emotion. ( Roleplay Prompt. )#ℒ | No one's ever gonna censor me. ( NSFW. )

3 notes · View notes

marmolady · 3 months

Text

WIP Dump!

I am actually still writing Endless Summer fanfic, believe it or not. It's just... slow. @mauvecatfic @rhemenway888 @sceptilemasterr I'm still here, quiet though I am!

In addition to the fics mentioned here, I'm also working on my 'Montoya grandchildren' collection, and my 'reunions' collection, and at some write some more glimpses into other Catalysts' family lives. As my 'main' post-canon story is long concluded, I'm mostly doing slice of life stuff and not much too heavy. That is, except for potential explorations of the end of the Catalysts' lives. I've already written Taylor's death scene. BUT I have been working on that particular fic on and off for literally years.

Snippets below the cut:

The first thing I've been working on is a series of windows into Taylor and Diego's friendship over the years, including far, far into the future. I think it's about halfway written, so it could be the next piece to make an appearance here and on AO3.

A snippet....

“Hey--” Taylor said as she settled down amongst the soft cushions of her favourite chair, knowing full well she’d be needing to call in assistance when the time came to haul her old body up from them, “I came up with the perfect idea for our next marathon.”

“’Marathon’? Between the two of us, we’re lucky to get through one movie without someone dozing off.” Diego grinned at his friend. His best friend of seventy years.

“That’s what makes it a marathon, because it takes so damn long. We take our time, savouring the laughs, the tears, and appreciating the artform.” A glass of wine, some cheeses to break up the films. And the two of them would reminisce, and Diego would point out his favourites of the crew’s filmmaking choices… or those that were notably bad.

“How about ‘the Zac Efron trifecta’?” Taylor suggested, showning her age. “High School Musical, followed by Hairspray, followed by The Greatest Showman.”

“Let’s just see if we can get through ‘Julie Andrews Fest’ first, okay?”

They did this fairly often. Just chilling out to the tune of films meeting their assigned theme. At the age they were, ‘just chilling out’ was pretty much requisite. Taylor’s arthritis had worsened considerably in the last year, and Diego’s respiratory issues were easily triggered by any amount of exertion. They were reasonably healthy nonogenerians… but they were nonogenerians.

______________________

Otherwise, you'll be seeing this next; some nice Taystela Valentine's fluff. Because so help me I love some Taystela fluff, and if anyone deserves ALL-THE-FLUFF it is Estela Montoya.

A snippet:

“‘Safe’ sounds perfect. As long as there’s no danger, people can stare all they want-- I’m in love with this woman, and I could not be less ashamed.”

Again, Estela momentarily glanced from the road to catch her wife’s eye, to return the smile there. “Don’t worry. I’m not taking you anywhere I couldn’t kiss you. I’ve suffered enough in my life.”

Taylor chuckled darkly, the knowing laugh of someone who knew all to well what it was to go through hell and back… and to try and embrace the happy ending on the other side in spite of the traumas that wouldn’t let go.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “On both counts.”

___________________

Aaaaaand my baby Rosa gets to head to La Huerta for the first time!

A snippet:

“Where are you headed?” the driver had asked, to which Rosa’s Mama Taylor had replied with, “It’s a secret-- don’t want to spoil the surprise for the little one.”

Rosa pretty much knew where they were going-- she’d heard all about it-- but it sounded so mysterious, it seemed likely there would be surprises when she got there. So much of what she’d been told sounded like magic. The taxi driver wasn’t part of the family, so they couldn’t talk about the place where they were flying to while he could hear.

They were all headed to the special island, the one where Rosa’s moms first met, years and years ago. It would be Rosa and her new family. And… all these other people. Including Uncle Raj, whom she’d just met the day before. He’d stayed at their house overnight before everyone flew out, and was now sharing their taxi to the airport. It was a little bit scary, because he wasn’t just a new adult to meet, but a very, very big one, and very energetic. But Uncle Raj must have known those things were scary for Rosa, because he’d knelt down to her and talked all calm. He seemed kind and gentle-- and at dinner, he’d even whipped her up a special glittery drink with cotton candy on top. ‘Her signature drink’ he’d called it. Rosa liked Uncle Raj, and she hoped that the other new people would be just as nice.

“Oh, a surprise holiday? Qué niña tan afortunada!”

Rosa could barely hold in a giggle at the sight of Raj, who looked just about to burst with the excitement of the secrets they were keeping from the driver-- well, from all the world. It made her feel better, taking the edge off her jitters. It had to be something good they were on their way to.

__________________________

#endless summer #playchoices #estela montoya #diego soto

4 notes · View notes