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juriyuna · 2 years

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how about miyu, for the ask game now?

baby girl. baby.

Why I like them: I first started liking her when she got introduced because her skittish personality and her thing with San caught my interest. Then DB came out and gave her a proper design and she's SO!! CUTE!!!!! she reminds me of a little baby pangolin i love her so much... her live2D animations are perfect ;_; And it's kinda funny to me that someone as small and timid as her is sort of a jock, haha. Usually fitness buffs are tough/boyish characters.

When she was released as playable, her MSS bumped her up from "I like her a lot" to becoming one of my favorite characters in the game. I wasn't quite expecting to get such a real depiction of what it's like to have an anxiety disorder, but. Man. F4 knocked it outta the park. idk if the writer was drawing on personal experience, but they did a great job here either way.

Her tendency to talk nonstop and jump from topic to topic, sometimes to the point of forgetting to give others a chance to speak (or not realizing that the topic is inappropriate until it's too late and she's horribly embarrassed), is unfortunately relatable as well lol..... _(:3 」∠)_

I've said this before, but I wanna restate that I love the fact that Miyuri is explicitly gay and nobody ever comments on it. She sometimes worries that her thing™️ for legs is weird/gross, but that's because she knows most people aren't as into it as she is, not because she's only interested in girls. + she's got a preference for muscles so bonus points for having taste

overall a good girl; I wanna give her a weighted blanket and a pat on the head

Why I don't: look i'm glad her magical girl outfit has a helmet because safety first and all but why is it so big. it reminds me of toad from mario.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): Definitely her MSS! It has a nice mix of cute/funny and serious moments, and moves between them without being jarring. It does a really good job of exploring her character. I don't think it's up on the English patch yet, but it's one of my favorite MSSes in the game.

To talk about a specific scene, I really liked the flashback to when she made her contract. She worked hard to be able to make it into an inline skating tournament, but between general anxiety/stage fright and the fact that the venue is full of hot girls with fit, toned legs (ah, the "excitement → adrenaline → anxiety" pipeline), she's on the verge of completely breaking down.

Trying to distract herself isn't working. All she can think about is how pathetic she feels for getting scared like this. She wants to run away, but she can't. Kyubey, of course, chooses this opportunity to come peddle his contracts. Upon seeing a "talking white tanuki", Miyuri is now even more freaked out, and thinks she's gotten so scared that she's hallucinating. Kyubey denies this, so Miyuri then assumes that this has to be some kind of mean-spirited hidden camera prank or a scam. (SO close to recognizing Kyubey for what he is and not making a contract. So close. God...)

He starts prying her for her problems, asking if what she wants is to win the competition. She says she does- then clarifies that she actually doesn't even care if she wins; she just wants to be able to have fun like everyone else.

Miyuri: "I don't have anxiety because I LIKE it! And I didn't CHOOSE to end up with a leg fetish! I'm not different from everyone else because I WANT to be!"

Miyuri: "Why- why can't I just be normal…? Even though San-sama did her best to help me… There's no way I could ever face her again like this!"

(which... argh. yeah. "why can't i just be normal" is a mood and a half. mourning the loss of who you could have been if your brain functioned like a Normal Person's is soul-crushing. feeling like you're letting your loved ones down because of a mental illness you have no control over is awful too.)

Kyubey, of course, says he can help. Miyuri takes him up on the offer, asking him "Please make every second of every minute of my panic attacks go by faster!"

After Miyuri finishes relaying this story to the rest of NM, Shigure asks her why she didn't just wish to get rid of her anxiety or her leg fetish. Miyuri answers that when Kyubey approached her, she was seconds away from passing out; she was not at all in her right mind to weigh her options here.

That... blows so much. Miyuri even realized herself shortly after contracting that she could've made a more practical wish. Her anxiety is just as bad as it was before, and her leg fetish too is still just as much of a source of stress as always. But at the time, she was so caught up in how scared she was that she just wanted that hell to be over with.

What makes it hurt even more is that she was originally excited about the powers she got with her contract. Knowing that if she gets too scared, she'll black out and basically go on autopilot until the task is done, gave her a little confidence. No matter how rough a situation is, if she can't do it herself, her magic will carry her through. She doesn't need to push herself as hard to be brave anymore.

Then she discovered that she goes into a blind frenzy when she fights witches, tearing apart everything in her path-- which is very effective for killing the enemy, but puts her allies' lives in danger as well. Poor thing is so afraid of witches that she can't even stay conscious, but she can't fight alongside other people because she's (understandably) horrified to think that she could mangle them and have no idea until she comes to afterwards.

Man. Miyu got totally boned here. :(

Favorite season/movie: well, uh, arc 2

Favorite line: "... Why can't I do the same things as normal people?" in ep.2 of her MSS probably hit the hardest for me, emotionally. But I just talked about a similar line for "favorite scene", so I'm gonna pick her homescreen Tap 4 quote:

"Ehehe… ♪ The way San-sama looked here was soooo amazing…! …*gasp*! D-did you… see my photo folder…? P-please don’t tell anyone! For goodness’ sake, don’t…!"

It's not anything special, but it makes me smile. :') Her little laugh at the start sounds so-- "lovestruck" is probably a good word for it. It's so cute!! It's sort of funny that she's embarrassed about it given how shameless she can be, haha. I suppose there's a difference between deliberately showing a certain side of yourself vs. other people seeing it by accident, though. (still, it's not like any of her friends would be surprised that she has a bunch of pictures of san saved lol)

Favorite outfit: I like both her school uniform and magical girl outfit, but her school uniform is the one I usually use on my homescreen! Her oversized sweater is adorable.

OTP: Sanmiyu!!! Right up there in my top 5 magireco ships, honestly; it feels so My Brand™️ that it's almost embarrassing lol... I've got a fondness for this type of master-servant type ship to begin with, so I was like 👀 from the start. saw the line "when she loses consciousness, she becomes my doll" and knew i was doomed

MAN I don't even know where to begin they're just... perfect together. Miyuri is completely smitten with San-- beyond the obvious fawning over how hot San is, she's got some really cute lines like "I've loved you from the very first time I laid eyes on you...!" and "I'm falling for you all over again!" ;_; She admires San so much, and works hard to make her proud. While she's happy to work under San as her "secret weapon", she says that one day, she hopes to be strong/brave enough to fight beside her instead.

Speaking of the "secret weapon" thing, I was expecting that to be magic-related, but nope-- Miyuri is just so in love that San's voice is the only thing that gets through to her when she's in her blacked-out state. She trusts San enough to act as her guiding light when everything goes dark. Oh....... (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)

I appreciate that Miyuri has seen San anxious, flustered, upset, or otherwise "uncool", and still thinks she's the best. It's not like she's only ever seen San's tough, capable side and totally idealized her from that. Honestly, I kinda feel like knowing that San isn't perfect might be part of what makes her perfect in Miyuri's eyes? I've posted about it before, but basically, like... San used to be pretty similar to Miyuri as a kid; she just pushed herself hard to outgrow it (which. has created other issues, but i digress). And even though she still gets worried/scared sometimes now, she does her best to push through in spite of it all. That's probably pretty admirable to Miyuri, who has such a hard time with her own anxiety.

On that note, it's not a one-sided fondness like one might expect, which is really nice to see. While San is- for a few reasons- generally not outwardly affectionate with people, it's clear that she cares a lot about her. In Miyuri's event, when she hadn't shown up at NM's base in a while, San was so worried that she kept making mistakes in everyday activities that she's normally very good at. (She tried to play it cool, but Himena was like "okay no you're def totally stressed about this. go look for miyurin")

Then the scene in Miyu's MSS where San sees Miyuri dancing alone in the moonlight, blushes(!!), and says "... She's beautiful." to herself out loud...... oh :'^)

It's sweet to me that San's subsequent moment of "I want to help her succeed" is what made her decide to become the instructor for the Feathers, too. They both inspire each other. ;;

They're also both supportive of each other in their own ways, which is cute. San helps settle Miyuri down when she starts to panic (counting with her to take deep breaths, etc.), tries to reel her in when she gets too excited, and wants to see her grow and improve-- not just as a magical girl, but as a person. On Miyuri's end, she's happy to help San with anything she needs, whether that's Community Center volunteer work, festival prep/fundraising, digging for info at the library, training NM Feathers, various magical girl duties, or simply being there when San feels hurt or worried. She might not always be able to help, but she can at least listen.

... of course, it's not 100% wholesome (i'd say "thanks miyu" but tbh san isn't totally exempt here either), but. y'know. they've got a range. (also lmao @ how san is like "if it helps you distract yourself you're welcome to think about how hot my legs are instead")

(important side note: san is the tallest person in NM, and miyuri seems to be the shortest alongside shigure. cute...)

Brotp: I didn't see Rui+Miyuri coming, but it's good! They talk via text chat a lot, and they're both into the same "Bible of the End" series that Rui's a huge fan of. Their hobbies don't have a complete overlap, but they'll let the other ramble on about her interests because they understand what it's like to get excited over a niche subject.

They also both have awful social anxiety and keep tripping over themselves trying to talk over voice chat (or in person), but at least that means they're both like "no it's okay i get it" when the other apologizes for freezing up. Thanks. :')

There's a scene in Miyuri's event where she gives Rui a very alarming phone call, talking about how she's gonna get rid of her stuff and saying things like "this is probably the last time we're gonna talk" and "thank you for everything" before hanging up.

Rui is (understandably) extremely worried. She figures Miyuri wouldn't reply if she tried calling or texting her asking to meet up. Frantically trying to come up with ideas, she opens up their chat log and scrolls back to find a photo Miyuri sent her of a flower a while ago-- she recognizes the background as the hospital in Hokuyou ward, where Miyuri comes to visit a friend. Even though Rui feels kinda like a stalker for doing this, she books it off to Hokuyou on the slim chance that Miyuri might be there.

(Miyuri is there! She's fine, thankfully; just still feeling self-conscious and guilty from An Incident earlier. But Rui helps her sort things out.)

10/10; I love seeing these skittish nerds support each other.

Headcanon: Her personal magic means she has a number of gaps in her memory, so she keeps a notebook to remind her of things she's done while unconscious. (If she... remembers to update the notebook, anyway.)

Unpopular opinion: idk how unpopular this is, but the leg fetish thing is... honestly not nearly as bad as some people make it out to be? It's not handled in a creepy/gross way, and Miyuri's not a "pervert comic relief" character, either. I feel like people saw the word "fetish", assumed the worst, and then never actually, like, read her MSS or anything. F4 managed to work this in as a serious part of her character that doesn't feel weird or out of place.

(and it's not like teenagers can't be Like That anyway. puberty is a hell of a drug.)

A wish: I want....... sanmiyu dual unit. It makes sense from a story standpoint, since Miyuri almost never fights without San by her side, so it feels like a decent possibility? The Dream™️ is a cool Hikarizuka Fire Festival alt, but I'd be down with whatever.

An oh-god-please-don't-ever-happen: While I can appreciate the merits of the angst it would bring, I hope that if the story has to kill San and/or Miyuri, it takes out both of them instead of just one. Shipping aside, they're a package deal to me, like KMR or shiguhagu-- I don't wanna see them permanently separated. ;_;

5 words to best describe them: Timid, loyal, subservient, energetic, horny

My nickname for them: "Miyu", same as her in-series nickname. :')

#sorry that this is so late!!#i swear i'll get around to the others in my inbox soon OTL #magia record #yukari miyuri #asks #hc post #long post

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dirtylittlesaint · 10 months

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10/24/22 – incoherent thoughts

Some days are hard and I just want to give up, but some days life is really good. Sometimes everything hurts and sometimes I’m so grateful to be alive. It’s difficult at times but I find something beautiful in being willfully optimistic. Defiantly positive. Even when I feel awful and my body and brain are dragging me down, choking me, whispering lies in my head, I choose to look forward.

Today I’m 19, which feels oddly surreal compared to turning 18. I don’t know why. As I look back on the past year, I’ve gone through so much change and a mess of emotions. As I’ve gotten older (I know that’s a cringe phrase, I’m literally only 19 which isn’t that old, but whatever), I hurt harder and fall harder but I also love harder and experience more deeply. It’s beautiful and devastating at the same time. But it makes hope all the more precious, juxtaposed against the dark.

The idea of “depth” of feeling strikes me tonight. Depth conjures up images of swimming deep into the ocean, or plunging into the vastness of the space between stars, or reaching inside myself to find my heart. Whenever I hurt or love or cry or rejoice and I get that gut-punch in my solar plexus I think I am feeling, along the z-axis.

Yesterday I sat on a plastic folding chair in the little room where my tiny church meets and cried. I sang brokenly to the music, with all my chest, until my voice cracked and I choked on the words. You are exalted. You are worthy of our praise. You are good, God. The sound glowed with the bright southern California morning sun. It was just 20 people and a girl on a guitar and a guy on a keyboard but I’ve never heard anything that felt so full. During the sermon I cried messily in front of strangers, tears dripping into my mask, as I let the words sink deeply into me. When everything goes to chaos, he holds you together. When externally your life is a mess and internally your heart is falling apart, he holds you together. When you were dead, he brought you to life. When you run from him, he finds you.

You do not have to be good. You do not have to try to be good. You cannot be good, but he is good.

He comes to you, where you are.

I felt so overwhelmed but so held. I felt so uncertain yet so safe. And in that moment, I knew I would be okay.

Getting older is experiencing so much more than I ever could have imagined. I thought about the people I’ve met and what they loved and seeing a little bit of that from their eyes. An eighteen-year-old boy crying over missing his little sister at home. Myself and a girl in my engineering class looking up from math homework to analyze Taylor Swift’s newest album at 10 PM. A math professor writing an equation then stepping back and whispering, It’s such a beautiful thing. Over shitty dining hall food, myself and a friend talking about how our families sacrificed for us to be here. Walking home in the dark and looking up at the stars shining despite the light pollution of a big city.

Last night, I spent two hours in silence with one of my new friends and we talked sparsely, mostly just drawing and making art next to each other. I told them good night and after they left, I sat in the empty study room on the eve of my birthday with music playing and my heart choking on something I couldn’t name.

And I thought, oh, this is what it’s like living in three dimensions.

Broken so deeply, loved so deeply.

I have so much to live for.

#my writing #old writing from wordpress #queue

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ericspinkhair · 3 years

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quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

#kevin moon smut #kevin moon scenario #the boyz kevin smut #the boyz kevin scenario #moon hyungseo smut #moon hyungseo scenario #the boyz kevin moon smut #the boyz kevin moon scenario #the boyz hyungseo smut #the boyz hyungseo scenario #the boyz smut #the boyz scenario #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

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alltooreid · 3 years

Text

I Think He Knows

Y/N has a huge crush on Spencer Reid, so huge she embarrasses herself every time she tries to talk to him. She is convinced he is aware to all her pathetic attempts at flirting and just chooses to ignore it, but turns out Spencer may be a little more clueless than she thought.

A/N: Hope yall enjoy this cute fluffy fic! I’ve been having a rough couple of days so writing a fun fluff like this was really comforting :) yes it is inspired by the t swift song, but you don’t need to know the song to read and enjoy! also my requests are open so let me know what you want to see! (also sorry if this is kind of short, but i’ve been super busy and wanted to put something out :)))

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: a cute pining fluff fic

Word Count: 2.3K

Content Warnings: mentions of alcohol, otherwise none.

“He got that boyish look that I like in a man I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands No one understands”

“He has to know Penelope, I’m not exactly subtle.”

You and Penelope spent the majority of your lunch breaks in her office, discussing anything and everything. Recently however, the point of contention had been a certain young genius. One who you had a huge crush on.

“Spencer Reid may be a genius, and one of the best profilers I have ever seen but he most certainly does not know,” she said, as she drizzled more dressing on her salad.

“He has to, it feels like everyone knows. . . Do you think everyone knows?”

She shrugged, “They might, I know my Chocolate Thunder hasn’t picked up on it yet.”

“You haven’t told him? It’s already been a week since I’ve told you! How did you keep it a secret for so long?”

“You asked me very nicely not to tell anyone! Plus this one seems really important to you. I don’t want to go around telling people and for Reid to hear it in office gossip.”

You smiled, “Well you Penelope Garcia are the best, best friend ever.”

“You know it, now I know you desperately want to repay me for my services, and you can by giving me those exact ranch packets you have in your bag,” she said.

“They’re all yours, now let’s discuss something other than my pathetic schoolgirl crush. Like how stupid Kevin’s sweater was today.”

“Kevin? The other internal affairs technical analyst? Yeah what the heck was he wearing?”

“You know, I’m tired of having to carry the weight of the brains, looks and fashion sense out of the two of us,” you said. “Though, that is a good way to gather attention . . . I wonder if Spencer would actually hold a conversation with me if I wore something as ugly as that.”

She laughed, “You know I think that might send you backwards.”

You stabbed your lettuce, “At this point I’ll try anything.”

Before Penelope could respond, someone interrupted your lunch, your only other friend on the BAU team, Emily Prentiss.

“Oh hi Y/N! How are you!”

“I’m good Emily, what kind of gross things are you here to deliver today?” you and Emily joined the FBI at around the same time, and found comfort in the fact that you were both total try-hards. Emily was going to eat lunch with you and your fast friend Penelope, at least on days when she was in the office for lunch, but you and her both agreed that she should eat lunch with the team so that they can get used to having her around.

“Just some paperwork, no cases yet, knock on wood. Also I just wanted to say hello! What are you guys eating?” she asked, pulling up a chair.

“Some salads from that takeout veggie place PG is always talking about. I told you I was going vegetarian right?” “You did not! That’s great Y/N! We need to talk more, like we used to when we first started here,” she sighed, then perked up, “We should have girls night! Remember how fun it was that night at the bar? With Brad the real FBI agent?”

“Yes! We should! You know, Gideon’s replacement comes tomorrow, we should celebrate!” Garcia said.

“You know, I don’t know if the best way to celebrate a new agent is by drinking without them, but I’m down. We’ll toast our girls night to agent Rossi. Someone ask JJ if she’s busy.”

JJ was not busy, but when you and Emily asked, Morgan overheard.

“So am I not invited to the party?”

“Well it was supposed to be girls night . . . but I think PG would throw a fit if I turned down her 2nd favorite person in this building, so I guess you can come,” you teased. “You should come too Spencer!”

“I don’t know, that’s not really my thing . . “

“Oh come on! I know I would love to see you there,” you then realized that you were embarrassing yourself being so forward. “And I’m sure everyone else would too!”

“Alright, I’ll come, but I’m not drinking.” he said firmly.

Before you could respond, Penelope magically appeared. “Good, you can be completely sober when Y/N gets wasted and embarrasses herself,” she said.

“PENELOPE! I’m not the light weight here! you’ll see Spencer, she’s actually awful. Two shots in and she’ll be on the floor,” this was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Spencer grimaced. “But it’ll be so much fun! You have to be there! You already said yes!”

“I just don’t know if seeing all of my coworkers get drunk while I watch is my idea of a fun evening. . .”

“Trust me! I’ll even stay sober with you, so we can judge them together. It’ll be a blast.”

“Ok, I’ll be there . . . but for now I need more coffee,” he pulled his chair out and walked towards the office kitchen. You silently cheered, forgetting how people were still standing around you.

“Well,” you awkwardly laughed, “um, I guess I better be getting back to my neck of the woods. I’m not a hot shot profiler like the rest of you guys . . . so see you all later!” You tried to escape before anyone interrogated you about your conversation with Spencer. However, a certain profiler followed quickly behind you.

“So. . . you and pretty boy huh?”

“Shut it Morgan.”

{⋅. ♪ .⋅}

You stayed true to your word that night, Spencer stuck to water and you enjoyed a diet soda. The bartender, who you had grown fairly used to seeing on your many nights out, was shocked to hear you didn’t want any alcohol in it.

It’s probably a good thing that you didn’t drink, you already embarrassed yourself enough in front of Spencer fully sober.

“So Spencer, you know that new bookstore you said you were going to go to after work a couple weeks ago?”

“New bookstore . . .? Oh yeah! What about it?”

“Well after I heard you talking about it I decided to check it out . . . It’s really nice there! I go like every other night now! We should totally go together sometime.” Luckily, you were sober enough to keep a secret: the fact you were only going so much in the hopes of running into him.

“Oh really? If I’m being honest I wasn’t super impressed with their selection, it was mostly contemporary fiction. And all in English . . . Not really my thing,” when he saw the way your face dropped he quickly changed his tone, “but it’s great if that’s your thing!”

This. Is. Humiliating. The amount of times you had gone and bought books from the bookstore, you were there almost every night hoping to run into him after work and start a conversation. You felt stupid, of course he wouldn’t want to go on a book store date with you. If Spencer Reid didn’t like you so much that he wouldn’t even go to a bookstore with you, there’s no chance at a relationship.

“Oh haha, yeah you’re right it’s totally lame. . .”

“Didn’t you just say you went there all the time?”

“No! When did I say that? You must be drinking Dr. Reid,” you said, quickly hopping off your bar stool, and running towards Morgan and Garcia, not turning around to see how confused Spencer was, but only being able to imagine him as relieved. Relieved he didn’t have to make conversation with you anymore.

“I’m blowing this PG, he totally hates me.”

Morgan laughed, “Y/N, you’re acting silly, this isn’t high school, we aren’t seventeen, stop dancing around it and just go ask him out.”

“Morgan, he doesn’t want to go to a bookstore with me, no way he’s agreeing to a date.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, maybe he’s just not in the mood to go?”

“You go ask him then, 20 bucks he says yes.”

“You’re on Y/N/N.”

7 minutes later Morgan returned and without a word pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and deposited it into your hand. “Sorry, Y/N.”

Penelope then piped up, “I’m telling you Y/N, he just doesn’t know. That boy is clueless.”

You scoffed, “I think he knows Penelope. I’ve made it pretty clear.”

“Have you told him?”

You were thrown off, “Um, no but-”

“Well then you haven’t made it clear enough, have you sugar?”

You almost said something, but you couldn’t really think of a good rebuttal for the argument. So instead, you downed Penelope’s half dranken frozen margarita, and headed back over to Spencer.

“Hey!” he said as you made your way back over, “I was wondering where you went, after you left Derek came over and asked to go to that bookstore with me, isn’t that extraordinary. . .”

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” you blurted out.

“What?”

You sighed, “I’ve had a crush on you since like, forever, and I keep planning all these ways to ask you subtly but it’s just not working so I’m asking now. Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“You like me? I didn’t know that . . .”

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not, I thought you were just being nice. You’re nice to everyone and I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

You smirked, “Get your hopes up? Does that mean you’re obsessed with me too Dr. Reid?”

He laughed in response, “Yeah, you could definitely say that.”

You dug through your purse and pulled out your keys, “Ok, then let’s get out of here.”

He paled, “And do what?”

“We’re going on our first date.”

He smiled, and you both got up off your bar stools and headed out the door, ignoring Morgan’s snide remarks as you passed.

{⋅. ♪ .⋅}

You couldn’t help but smile as you drove. Every couple of seconds you couldn’t help but look over at Spencer, getting lost in his brownish hazel eyes, which looked indigo in the night. He would smile, the kind of smile people write silly little romance songs about and spend verses to describe, and tell you to pay attention to the road before you run off of it. You would laugh, tell him to calm down. Although originally you had an idea of where you were going, now you just wanted to drive in circles, to bask in this memory.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“Think about it Doctor Reid . . .” you replied, teasing him in the way you’ve imagined since you met him.

You pulled up to that little bookstore on 16th avenue, the one you couldn’t stop going to out of the sheer chance Spencer might be there, the one that was obviously closed this late at night, but was too perfect not to spend your first date at.

“Although this is beautifully symbolic, it’s almost 2 in the morning, this place closes at 8. We’re 5 hours, 49 minutes and 17 seconds late.”

You smiled and pulled out your ring of keys, “You know, when I spent hours a night hanging around here after work, hoping that you would happen to come shop for books and see me here too, the woman who owns this store got pretty curious. So I told her why I was here, and after she got done laughing at me she offered me a key, so that if I ever had the guts to ask you out, I could take you here no matter what.” You turned the key and swung the door open, gesturing him inside and locking the door behind you, “but we have to keep the lights off, so no one comes by and tries to get in.”

You and Spencer sit in the non-fiction section, and enjoy the silence for a few seconds before you have an idea, “Read me something Reid.”

He reached up, pulling a book off of the shelf without looking, “Are you sure, A Brief History of 1491: Life in America Before Columbus, is first date material?”

“Although that book is anything but brief, anything you read to me will sound stunning coming from your pretty mouth.”

So he begins to read, attempting to slow down to a reasonable pace but still going abnormally fast. You didn’t care though, more than you listened to the history of the late fifteenth century you watched Spencer’s hands. They’re really nice hands.

His right followed the words as he read aloud and his left helped hold the book. He wiggled the fingers on his left hand unconsciously as he spoke, getting into the words of the book.

After about 25 pages he glanced over at you, and you could almost hear the gears turning in his head. After a second he went back to the page, and continued reading. You didn’t think anything of it until a couple minutes later, when his hand made its way to your left thigh.

He held it and you leaned into him, and you both stayed like that until you fell asleep hours later, with his head resting on top of yours.

At 8:30 Mrs. Betts, the owner of the bookstore, found you and Spencer, arms around each other, the book thrown aside. She smiled, glad to know you had taken her up on her offer. She went to go wake you up but glanced at her watch. She didn’t have to officially open until 10.

She could definitely spare a couple of minutes.

“I want you, bless my soul I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

ATR’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies

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tu-sugar-mami · 3 years

Text

So @alcinassugarbby asked for another part of my previous music drabble, where R teaches Alci how to perrear to latino music. And if you want to get the vibe you can listen to the Spotify playlist i made specifically for this.

Also, just to let you know, this was written with latino people in mind.

I took my time with this one, but please enjoy ;)

------

The castle was huge af, you yourself had gotten lost in its infinity many times, mostly when you have the late night cravings and sneakily you manouver you way out of Alcina's hold and have to find your way through the darkness of the hallways in order to find the kitchen. It was like a neverending maze, but just as it was great for parties and hide and seek games, it was a pain in the ass to keep clean.

Maids had stopped roaming the castle's halls a long time ago (more like, the family outlived them), and Alcina never bothered to hire new ones, so the chore of cleaning the place fell upon the daughters.

Your mom raised you right, you were not going to let the girls struggle with the the chores when you could do something about it, and so, you being in your right age to put music to clean but not old enough to put Juan Gabriel, you pulled out your phone, connecting it to the speaker you made Alcina buy for you, and you started to sweep and mop, with your sleep shorts on clinging to you like a second skin and an oversized shirt (courtesy of Alcina's wardrobe) hanging on your body.

You were the only one currently in the castle, as the rest of the family went out for some business stuff with MM, leaving you the entire place to do as you pleased, so you didn't hesitate to blast the music through the whole east wing while dancing around the room you were cleaning. Though you lost track of time, and when you felt a hand on your shoulder just when you were crouching throwing it back, lost in the music, you jumped 3ft in the air with a surprised yelp, only to run to the nearest couch to grab a deadly weapon, a decorative cushion, and wield it with assertive determination towards whoever had dared to put a foot inside your home.

"Whatever are you doing, dear?" You heard your lover's amused voice and you blushed, letting out a squeak of surprise at being caught while dancing like that. You didn't even hear her arrive, but then again, the music was too loud.

You quickly turned the music down, so it wouldn't hurt her ears and so you could hear her better.

"I uh, was cleaning?" You said, unsure of your answer. You went to her, giving her a welcoming hug, though it was mostly to hide your face.

Alcina, the ever teasing woman, looked at a flustered you and a smirk formed on her face. "What an interesting way of cleaning. I'm sure the floors will be sparkling when you're done." And if it wasn't enough, she added: "You're really good, my love, you should teach me sometime." Alcina could say stuff like that all day, but in reality she loved the cute way your butt bounced up and down and as cool and composed as she looked in the outside, she was having a hard time keeping her eyes (and hands) off of your lower back. Because she's a gentlewoman, and a lady, and not because her daughters are wildly unpredictable and no one could assure her they wouldn't barge through the door at any moment effectively interrupting and testing her self control.

Though what she said gave you an idea, and now it was your turn to smirk mischievously. "Oh, i can definitely teach you. I would love to, even."

Her expression went blank and her face went pale, or well, even paler if it was even possible. "No." She said without a pause.

You giggled, and she giggled too because she cherished your laugh.

"No, but really. I could teach you. I mean, i'm no master myself but i know my moves." To prove your point you smoothly swinged your hips left and right, while holding Alcina's hands to make her follow your dance.

"I don't think i can do that, dearest. Maybe is best if i refrain from doing such dance." The smile on her face was small but it made the whole room brighter and you wanted to kiss her right there, although at that exact moment one of your favorite songs, and a classic at that, could be heard from the speaker and you didn't waste a second to dance along with it.

"Watch this, Alci." You said as you started to move at the rhythm of Yo Perreo Sola. Your left leg bouncing against the floor, then you started to move your hips in a rhythmical circle with a little pause and bounce of your butt at the end of every lap. It was really simple, yet Alcina looked mesmerized. And when you bent over, with your hands on your knees, and started going up and down, Alcina's eyes were definitely glued to you.

"See something you like?" You asked, smugly.

Alcina was speechless. But her gaze fixed on your behind let you know that in fact she did like it, she did like it a lot.

You stopped and you could have sworn you heard Alcina whine. "Why did you stop?" She asked, with a tint of disappoinment in her voice.

"You didn't say anything, so i thought you might not like it." You turned away from her to hide your smirk, because it was all bs, you knew she was enthralled.

"No, no. I like it. Although i must admit, i'd rather wish you'd dance for me like this more often." When you faced her again ahe was watching you intently.

"Tell you what, you dance for me first and i'll dance for you tonight in our chambers, how's that sound?" You were struggling to keep your grin under control as Alcina seemed to seriously think about it.

"You really want to see me dance like that, don't you? You little devil."

"There's nothing else i'd wish for right now."

Alcina sighed. "Fine, i am willing to do it." She held your face with her hand and leaned to kiss you. "Just because i really like that butt of yours."

You blushed but went to choose a song nonetheless.

"Let's start with something easy." You said as you browsed through the Colores album, looking for a song that you thought fitted her perfectly and 'Negro' started to play.

Alcina had listened to your songs before, but it never ceased to amaze her how different each song was, the rhythm and lyrics, not to mention the many different languages, and seeing you so excited to share part of your culture with her– it just made her heart soar.

"Alright, how should i start?"

Your huge bright smile made it impossibe to hide how much you were enjoying this. "You see, my dear apprentice, perrear is an art where your hips are the brush and the room is your canvas. Now, with me, stand like this and try to move you butt up and down along with the beat."

Alcina was hesitant. How a lady such as herself would allow her body to move in such an... aggravating... manner? Well, the answer was that she loved you. She would do anything for you and if it was your wish to see her dance, then she'd swallow her pride and try her best.

With awe you witnessed how your lady attempted to perform the basic step of perreo, though you could clearly see she was being shy, and you didn't blame her. The first time you tried to learn in front of your full body mirror was like that too.

"How's this? Am i doing it right?" She asked, unsure.

Her posture was a bit awkward, and you placed your hands on her to correct it. "Yes, now try to lean down a bit, like this. You can put your hands above the knee for support." She did. "Now, the tricky part. Try and arch your back a bit, just a bit, while you throw it back."

"I'm not throwing anything back, dear." Alcina said, confused, and even glanced behind her to confirm.

You giggled. "Baby, i meant your butt. Like this."

Alcina followed your example, and she being an extremely smart, talented and observing woman, picked up the move real quick.

"Now try to draw a circle with your hips. Yes, just like that. You're doing great, babe!"

"I sure hope so, my love. I'm really looking forward to you dancing for me tonight." She smirked, stopping her moves and pulling you close to her, her hands on your back pressing you against her front. "I putting a lot of effort and i require praise and kisses." You were more than happy to comply to her wishes, climbing on a chair and proceeding to kiss her hungrily. Wet kisses could be heard in the room, and Alcina's hands under your shirt gently scrapping the bare skin of your back were driving you crazy. But you knew you were getting too lost in the moment, and as much as you wanted to keep drawing those delicious groans from her you still had a goal to accomplish.

With a last bite to her bottom lip you pushed yourself back and jumped to the floor, ignoring Alcina's whine of disappoinment.

"Let's move to something a little more difficult." You say, a little bit out of breath, as you change the song to Gasolina. It started with a rapid beat and you wasted no time following it.

"Oh god..."

"Now you do it."

You'd be lying if you said seeing Alcina try that specific step didn't stir something in you. Definitely her leaning down, moving her hips side to side, slightly rotating her waist, in a rapid pace was a sight to behold.

"My love, you're drooling." Her amused voice reached your ears and you got out of your trance.

"I guess i'm really good teacher." You day, the back of your hand hiding your mouth.

"Mmh, well i think so too." She laughed. A beautiful laughter indeed. "Do you happen to have more knowledge you'd like to share?"

You lit up as a new song came into mind.

"I do!" Wait a sec!"

You quickly change the song and run back to Alcina's side.

"Third step! Should be easy enough." You squat and thrust your hips forward in a repetitive smooth motion while gradually rising with every 'Tra' of the song, slowly, tempting, alluring. "What do you think?"

Alcina is staring again, and you can almost hear the Microsoft startup sound as her brain reboots.

"Would you look at that! It's already night time." She said, pointing to a half covered window that lets in a faint but clear ray of sunlight. You opened your mouth to deny it but Alcina was already hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around her waist. "And i believe we made a deal." Her husky voice and hungry eyes left no room for arguing, though you wouldn't complain.

-----

I think i should put links to videos so you can get a reference.

If you love my work, buy me a coffee?

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #my fic #re8

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rotshop · 3 years

Text

its MY probably-soon-to-be-dissociation-or-not-able-to-talk-moment and I get to choose the coping mechanism. that coping mechanism is catperson s/o fuck you

anyway hi enjoy please maybe <3 srry this isnt super well written i got brain fog momense

[ tw ; brief talk of being anxious / upset, not described in too much detail ]

"You plannin' on standing there all night or are you gonna say 'hello?'"

You scoff and roll your eyes, narrowing them in the man's direction. "Yeah, cause you suuuree couldn't have just said it yourself."

Despite the (very weak and ultimately non-threatening) bite in your words, you take his acknowledgement as an invitation. It's not the first time you've been in Deimos' room and you're sure it won't be the last, yet you still make to glance around for anything that's changed. It was a habit you'd gotten into after the first few visits, quietly searching for anything you could ask him about whenever you decided to let the act slip. You're appreciative that he doesn't make any comment about you curling up on his bed.

"You aren't great at deflecting, y'know."

"And you aren't great at being a good host," comes your prim hum.

He only laughs at that, the sound making your ears prick up instinctively. As he finally turns in the chair at his desk to look back at you, you wish you could shove them and that awful swarming in your chest down. "So, what dragged you in this time? Couldn't sleep again?"

You go silent at his question, noticeably avoiding his gaze and instead focusing your own below you. Suddenly, the blanket you've been digging your nails into seems far more interesting than anything else. The reaction immediately hints the answer, even if you don't. Before you can lie or make up some excuse, he's picking himself up and coming in front of you.

"Hey, y'know I ain't gonna judge you, right?" He questions, leaned over slightly to look down at you. Despite his reassurance and you knowing he's honest from that stupidly soft tone he's using, you just feel smaller. Physically, it wasn't particularly impressive, you'd always been noticeably shorter than the others. Though, to have him make you feel so minute with just a straight-forward, rhetorical question?

It was near humiliating.

He snaps his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back from whatever internal monologue you were on. He takes the opportunity of you looking up at him to tuck a hand under your chin, keeping you meeting his eyes. "Right?"

You give a little sigh, still embarrassed of the entire situation, "Right."

At your final answer, he grins making that feeling from before just swarm up with a vengeance. "So, you shouldn't have any problems givin' me some kinda clue as to what's going on in that pretty little head a' yours."

An unsure little groan bubbles in your throat, claws drawing into the sheets once more. You knew he wouldn't make a big deal out of it, despite how you two teased and chided one another you had limits. Whenever it came to matters like these you both let those roles slip for a while, simply finding some form of solace and comfort in the others presence.

"I don't know, I just.." you start, words failing you in the moment, "You know how like..you sometimes just feel that pit of dread or whatever, and you just kinda' sit there and zone out? It's like that but just more..sharp, I guess."

He gives a hum of understanding, moving his hand to cup the side of your face gingerly. "I get that. Is there anythin' you wanted in particular to help or..?"

The question only leaves you with a huff and blood threatening to run to your face, eyes leaving his the second they get the chance. "Well, I just- uhm.."

At your pause he makes a little 'go on' gesture, waiting simply for whatever you would request.

"Can you just kinda..hold me for a little while? Like- you don't have to if you're busy or you don't wanna or-" your rambling's cut short by his laughter.

It's not at you, even if embarrassment bubbles in you, tail weakly slapping at the mattress in some kind of defense. It leaves you in a silence that you don't quite have the motivation to fill, laying and staring up at him in a way you only hope isn't as meek as it feels. Just as he calms down, remembering himself once more you make to cut him off, take back your words with an apology or play it off as a joke. His held up hand stops you though, that mix of amusement and gentle fondness in his eyes keeping you still.

" 'Course I can, just gimmie a minute to finish some stuff up 'n I'll be more than happy to."

So, even as he pulls away from you, stealing the warmth of his hand against your skin, you stay still. You lay and wait in quiet patience, already feeling the weight of rest in your limbs as you listen to the quiet clicks and taps of his typing. At one point or another, through the fog of sleep tugging at your mind you notice him walk back over. You don't think to bite back the pleased hum and purr that follows as he lays down beside you.

You can tell he's gentle with you, far more than he really needs to be. You would prod at him about it, make some little tease he'd scoff or retort at, yet in the moment you simply appreciate it. You can tease him later for the way he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close with a little content sigh of his own. You can most definitely remind him of the quick, careful kiss he places on your cheek.

For now though, you can rest a while.

#deimos x reader #madcom x reader #madcom imagines #madness combat x reader #madness combat imagines #rot writes

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americxn · 3 years

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Little Witch | James March x reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ As part of the coven, Cordelia sends you to the Hotel Cortez to carry out a favour for James Patrick March, who has promised to pay the coven handsomely in return for your help. However, in using your gifts at the hotel, you reveal more than intended, igniting James’ interest in you. words: 4000k + (not proofread)

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“Hello?” You pivoted slowly, neck craned to take in the glorious room you found yourself stood in. Calling out again, you spotted the front desk at the back of the room and headed towards it, the red velvet carpet soft beneath your feet. “Is anyone there?” You braced your hands on the cool wood on the desk, leaning forwards in a futile attempt to peer behind the door against the far wall of the reception that had been left open a crack. Huffing, you slung your designer bag from off your shoulder and dumped it on the floor. Why the hell was nobody here? Surely Cordelia didn’t forget to notify the staff to your arrival. The creaking of the door behind the desk as it swung open startled you and you looked up to see a short, stout looking woman with big glasses that framed her round face in an adorable manner. “Hi, do you work here?” You questioned tentatively. “Yes, I’m Iris. Sorry, have you been waiting for long?” She reached under the desk, pulling out a large leather bound book and flipping it open. “No, it’s fine,” you paused, noting the book she began to flick through. “I, erm, I don’t have a reservation or anything.” The sound of the little women flicking through the pages of her book stopped abruptly, the large room falling utterly quiet. You cleared your throat, the wailing and screaming filling the deepest part of your brain threatening to spill into your consciousness; Cordelia had warned you about this. That this hotel, this glorious hotel, was certainly not as pleasant as it seemed. And you had felt it the moment you stepped out of the Uber that had deposited you on the front steps of the building, could hear the suffering in the back of your head, people pleading and crying. An awful feeling settling over you, a warning and a promise. Stay away or die. You steeled your nerve and forced the growing butterflies in your stomach to settle. I know what I’m doing. “I’m y/n, I’ve come from New Orleans. Were you not notified of my arrival?” The woman started, a guilty red tinged blooming on her cheeks. “Oh, of course, of course. Sorry about this,” she paused to gesture around the empty room. “Busy week.” An awkward silence fell as she seemed to notice the utter stillness radiating from the entire building, and cleared her throat, coming round the your side of the desk and beckoning you. “Follow me.” You did, stooping briefly to retrieve your bag and sling it over one shoulder. The woman led you up a shallow set of steps set into the far wall of the room, and into an open hallway. A few turns later and you found yourself at a cozy looking bar, the room opening beyond into a generous dining room, with multiple sets of tables and chairs occupying the space. “Liz!” Iris called, pulling your attention to her and the woman who walked out from behind the bar. “This is y/n. I assume March will come and collect her soon, but who knows with that man.” The last part was muttered on a tired sounding breath. “Keep her company, will you.” “Of course.” Liz, as Iris had called her, hurried to the other side of the bar and you took a seat at a barstool, thanking the receptionist as she walked away. “Can I get you a drink?” Liz asked you, leaning both her elbows on the bar and gazing at you with curiosity. Your mouth opened to respond, but you paused briefly as you remembered your unfamiliar surroundings and the undead man you were going to meet and closed you mouth, shaking your head. “I’m alright, thank you though.” A small small spread on Liz’s face. “You don’t need to be worried, you know, although I don’t blame you.” She pushed off the bar as she spoke, taking up a cloth and setting herself before a pile of glasses, picking one up and beginning to polish it. “That Supreme of yours would bring this building down with half a thought if anything were to happen to you, I’m sure.” You huffed a small laugh in response. “It might take a few of us to pull off something like that but yes,” you paused, unsure of how much this person knew and how much you should let on. “But I can’t lie, this building feels miserable.” You explained with a small shiver as the hairs on your neck raised in agreement. Liz chuckled. “You’re not the first to say that.” You smiled slightly, a smile that turned into a grimace as the incessant wailing in your head got a fraction louder. “They agree too.” You muttered quietly. Liz cocked her head, a stack on freshly polished glasses beginning to pile up beside her. “Especially...” you paused, pulling out a tendril of your power from the bottomless well inside you and allowing it to follow the call of the loudest voice that had filled your ears since you first set foot in the building. “Mary.” The mention of her name was like a catalyst, breaking through any sort of barrier between you and the suffering spirits of the hotel and a series of horrendous images flooding your mind. “Oh god,” you grimaced at the blood and gore that was projected in your head, a snapshot from some time ago, on the eleventh floor in a room directly above you. Your nose crinkled in distaste as you blinked the images away. “Poor girl.” “What a helpful little tool.” Liz mused, setting the half-polished glass and cloth on the surface of the bar and looking at you intently. “Who else can you hear?” You paused again to listen, but a scuffing sound on the carpet from the hall outside the bar caught your attention and you turned in your seat, a mere second before a man stepped into view. “Ah, yes!” The dark-haired man exclaimed as he clasped his hands behind his back. You couldn’t help the one eyebrow that you involuntarily raised at the sudden appearance of this man, as you took in his odd clothes, the dark pencil moustache and the accent that you just couldn’t place. He wore a scarlet handkerchief around his neck, a stark contrast to the white shirt he wore beneath a dark waistcoat. “Mary.” He hummed. “Such a pretty thing, but my god was she loud.” He barked a jovial laugh as he stepped further into the room. You took an unsure glance at Liz, who met you gaze briefly before going back to her glasses. “Are you...?” You trailed off, trying to get a reading on the man but coming up short. “James Patrick March.” He spoke proudly, his chin raised slightly as if he were addressing a room full of important people. You tore your gaze from him, slipping off the stool and donning your bag once more. “Right,” you nodded, “I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You said as you walked up to him, confused as to why his presence filled the room with blessed silence, like a blockade to the screaming walls and voices that had swirled around your head just moments before. But you meant it. He seemed to draw you in, his little smile somewhat endearing as he held out an arm for you to take, which you did, and found, yet again, that he was impenetrable, that you couldn’t hear or see anything when you touched him. Cordelia had warned you of him, had apologised for choosing to send you to the hotel and gave you a brief rundown of his history, of the terrible things he had done in this hotel, his hotel. But now, as he led you into an ornate elevator arm to arm, taking your bag from your shoulder and putting it on his own in a gentlemanly gesture, happily making small talk with you as the elevator door closed, the only vibes you were getting from him was that of a harmless teddy bear. You had to suppress a smile as you responded to his question of: “I trust you got here easily? How long did it take from New Orleans?” And then getting caught in the flow of his own rambling: “I wish I could visit there. I only went once before getting stuck in this building. Exquisite food. Oh and even better music.” You found it incredibly endearing. The elevator doors opened and you allowed James to lead to into the hallway, peering up at him as he continued to talk. “Ah, here we are.” He exclaimed, pushing open the door labelled ‘55′ and allowing you to go in before you. The room was decorated in an odd sort of outdated way which somehow managed to still be cozy and welcoming; red carpet, dark oak furniture and strangely shaped light fittings. There was a large table in the centre of the room, a bed pushed against the wall beyond that and a small sitting area to the right. Looking to the left, you spied a door, open a crack to reveal a clean-looking bathroom beyond. James pulled you out a chair and gestured for you to sit before hurrying round the table and situating himself opposite you. “I must say,” he began, surveying you as you pulled your bag onto your lap and began taking out the items necessary for the location spell that you were to perform for James. He continued, leaning forward to brace his elbows on the wood of the table, “it has been a while since I have had a run-in with a witch. And an even longer time since I’ve had relations with your coven.” Pulling out two large candles, you met his gaze and smiled softly. “Well, I’m happy to help.” You said mildly, just wanting to perform this spell for him and leave. This hotel just didn’t sit right with you and you were hesitant to spend more time than necessary within its walls. The room fell into a somewhat awkward silence as you pulled out the rest of the contents of your bag: a large map of Los Angeles and a thin, cruel looking blade. You cleared your throat quietly as you spread the map upon the table, James retracting his elbows to give you space, watching your every move intently. You placed a candle at each side of the map, lighting them with half a thought and a lazy flick of your wrist. The impressed expression that fell over James’ face caused a barely suppressed soft smile to spread over your lips, a strange of sense of satisfaction unfurling in your chest. Palming the small knife, you met his interested gaze. “Did you bring a connection with you?” You had assumed that Cordelia had explained the spell to James, that in order for you to find what he had lost, you would need some sort of connection with it. If it were an object, you would need a small part of the item or to perform the spell at the last place it was seen in order to retrieve it, but, as Cordelia had explained to you, as it was a person that had gone missing, you would need some of their DNA, some hair, blood, even a finger nail clipping, just anything that you could use to tether yourself to the missing person. “Oh, yes of course. Miss Evers!” He called, looking at the door behind where you sat. You pivoted as the door opened, beholding the maid that bustled in, a small child clinging onto her hand. Your eyes narrowed. “Bring him over here. Yes that’s it.” He welcomed the oddly-dressed child into his arms. The boy couldn’t have been older than six, his thick head of platinum blonde hair glinting in the candle light. James ushered the maid away before looking to you expectantly. “What am I to do with him?” You ventured, the boy’s presence making you feel uncomfortable. No child should be involved in witchcraft, especially in such a spell that you were to perform. But then again, looking at the boy, you couldn’t tell if he was entirely human. A deeply unsettling aura rippled off of the child, whose head was turned shyly to rest in James’ chest. “This is the closest thing I could salvage from her. They are connected in a way that I am not required to explain,” he offered a tight smile. “So please,” he jerked his head at the blade in your hand, “continue.” You frowned, but did as you were told, dragging the knife across your palm, hard enough to draw blood, a practice that you were so used to doing, the sting of the blade cutting into you barely registered. Clenching your hand into a tight fist, you held your hand out before you above where the Hotel Cortez was located on the map and allowed three drops of your blood to splash onto the paper. Your stomach twisted at what you had to next, meeting James’ eyes and holding out your hand. “I need to do the same with him.” You muttered. James, to your surprise, took the boys hand and held it out to you happily, forcing his palm open and holding it steady as you raised the blade and drew a deep line across his little hand. Even more surprisingly, the boy didn’t so much as whine as you put his hand into a tiny fist and held it above the map, allowing for a few drops of his blood to fall on top of your own. “Thank you.” You said to the boy gently, releasing his hand. James lifted him off his lap, patting his head fondly and called for Miss Evers again who returned and took the boy out of the room. “Go ahead, witchling.” He said, a curious glint in his eye. “Alright.” You breathed, surveying the map before you before letting your eyes fall shut. “This shouldn’t take too long. Remind me of her name?” “Her name is Elizabeth. She took off from the hotel eight days ago. I need her back here.” Nodding, you let this information and the quietness of the room settle over you, holding your hands outstretched over the map. Scrying was a pain in the ass, but it was what you were best at. You reminded yourself of this as you began the incantation, readying yourself for the feeling of coming out of your being, of losing control of yourself. With each word you spoke, you began to feel the sensation of being pulled out of your body until your conscious being was hovering above the table, watching yourself utter the incantation with your hands held above the map, James’ eyes glued to your face in wonder. Below your hands, the little puddle of blood began to inch itself across the paper of the map and you concentrated as your vision began to dim, chanting louder as the candles flared. God this hotel. It was an effort to focus yourself as the memories of suffering clouded your thoughts and an ache began to spread from one temple to the other. Glancing at yourself, you cringed as you face began to pinch, a small drop of blood forming and dripping from your nose. Your chanting became frenzied, hands beginning to shake where you held them above the table. The blood continued to trail across the map and you grimaced at the worsening pounding in your head, watching as the muscles in your jaw clenched. “Y/n?” You started, having forgot that James was present and began to panic as he reached out a hand tentatively. If you touched you, you would be pulled back into yourself and the spell would be broken. “No.” The word formed soundlessly on your lips, blood dripping from your other nostril. The blood on the map began to slow its journey, beginning to pool itself back together. Just a few more moments and- “Y/n.” James reached over and brought his hand onto your shoulder, and you were forced back into yourself, an irritated protest forming on your lips. But as his hand settled on your shoulder, a flurry of images emptied itself into your head with such force that you jerked. The images were of James, his face the same as it was now but in various outfits. James stood before a half-built building, an oddly shaped hat perched on his head, James laughing as he popped open a bottle of champagne before a crowd of cheering people. And there he was again, stood in a dimly lit room with red carpets and walls, a mutilated body sprawled on a table before him. In this picture he sighed, blood splattering his face and a series of sharp, wicked blades having been discarded at his feet. You were forced to endure a series of similar images, James’ grip on your arm tightly as you tried to expel the pictures in your head, but to no avail. And then you saw yourself from James’ vantage point as he stepped into the bar you had been in hardly thirty minutes ago, Liz polishing her glasses before where you sat, your bag abandoned at your feet. This image was quickly replaced by another, of you and James sat at this very table, but you were both dressed in finery, you at one end and him at the other, large plates of food set before you as you sipped on your wine, James laughing at a joke you had made. Then you saw the two of you running through the hallways of the hotel, giggling like children and shouting as he chased after you as you both barrelled through the hallways before James caught you and pushed you gently against the wall, his lips finding yours as you both laughed breathlessly. The scene changed quickly, and you were looking through your own eyes as James smiled down at you with teary eyes, your white lace-covered hand clutched in his as you made your vows to love him, a priest stood a few feet away overseeing the ceremony in the reception of the hotel. And then a glorious feeling working itself into you as the next image appeared in your head: of you sprawled out on the same bed that was behind James now, mewling in pleasure as James’ head worked between your legs. Your fingers were gripped tightly in his hair, a white gown and light grey suit scattered in pieces around the bed he worshipped you upon. Only when the vision snapped to you cupping your swollen belly lovingly, did you finally find the strength to locate your physical self and slip back into it, pulling away from James. As soon as his hand fell from your arm, the visions disappeared abruptly and you blinked as you stared at him across the table, his eyes creased in concern. Letting out a shaky breath, you reached up and wiped at your face, your fingers coming away bloody and James stood hurrying over to you. You felt dizzy and could barely see straight as his cold fingers hooked under you chin and you were forced to look right at him as he tutted quietly, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and gently cleaning up the blood that had expelled itself from both nostrils and from the corner of one eye. Had he seen or felt anything? Had he meant to put those images in your head? You breathing faltered as he met your stare, the images that you had seen appearing again in the back of your mind, of his head between your spread legs as your back arched off the bed. You shook this images from your head and forced yourself into action. You reached up and pulled his hand from your face. “It’s okay.” You said, the roiling dizziness that you had felt giving way to bone-deep exhaustion. “It happens. This is a hard spell.” You reassured him. He surveyed you carefully from a few feet away, the newfound tiredness of the location spell evident in the droop of your shoulders, the dimness in your eyes. You gestured to the map. “Where the blood had formed is where Elizabeth is. I don’t know LA that well. If I were you I would go there quickly, she might move somewhere else.” Your voice was hoarse. “Yes.” He drawled, “thank you, dearest.” You smiled weakly up at him, pulling your candles to you and blowing them out before using your magic to encourage the melted wax to harden and stuffing them back in your bag. With a lazy wave of your hand, the blood on your blade was gone, the well of your magic pleading you to let it rest. You pushed yourself to your feet silently. “Whoa.” James darted forwards, catching you under the elbows as your knees gave out when you tired to stand. “Oh dear.” He muttered in your ear as your bag fell from your fingers and your head fell back into his chest. You groaned softly. Fuck. I pushed too hard. You thought as your eyes grew too heavy, your head drooping forwards as your body forced you to sleep, to recuperate. Yes, you had definitely pushed too far. A cold hand settled on your forehead and forced your head back, James’ muttered, “it’s alright, darling. Thank you for helping me,” being the last thing you heard before your body’s demand for sleep pulled you under.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Your phone buzzing on the pillow beside your head made you stir. You peeled your tongue from the roof of your mouth, reaching out with a groan and picking up your phone to answer it, bringing it to your ear and mumbling a sleepy “hello”. Cordelia’s voice filled your ear. “Y/n? Are you okay? The hotel rang me and told me you would be back later than expected.” Slight panic sharpened her tone, making you force yourself to sit up. Before you, you saw the table where you had performed the location spell, the map still spread upon it. You remembered the images that James had projected into you with a shiver. A quick glance at the time displayed on your phone notified you that you had only been sleeping for a few hours but had missed your flight. “Erm yeh, I’m fine. I’ll order an Uber and just get the next flight home. I’m fine, Cordelia. I promise.” You softened you tone, knowing how much the Supreme feared losing any of her girls. “Okay, message me when you get in your Uber, okay? I love you.” You smiled. “Love you too.” Hurrying, feeling uncomfortable that you had been left to sleep in this godforsaken building alone, you used the bathroom quickly and then gathered your things. You had made it to the door of the room when you noticed that the low table beside the door had a plate laid out on it, a sandwich and a large glass of water set beside a note. It was written in pretty cursive and read:

“Y/n. I hope you recover quickly. Thank you for your help, little witch. If you find yourself in the area again, please do visit us. JPM.”

You smiled softly, placing the note back down before draining the glass of water and grabbing the sandwich, munching on it as you made your way through the labyrinth of corridors, stomach sighing contentedly as you quickly finished the sandwich off, stepping into the elevator that would take you down to the reception.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

It had been a few weeks since you had made your visit to the Hotel Cortez. Now, you sat at the kitchen table, slowly making your way through your ‘theory of magic’ homework and laughing at a joke Kyle made from across the table when Cordelia strode in.

You looked to her as she said your name. “I have another quest for you,” she began, her mouth quirking up at the corners. “You’re requested at the Hotel Cortez.” You stiffened almost imperceptibly, stomach flipping in either dread or excitement, you couldn’t tell.

“James March requests your company for diner.” She smirked and Kyle let out a laugh as your cheeks reddened. You reached into your pencil case and chucked a pen at him.

“When?” You asked Cordelia who was barely suppressing her laughter.

“Wednesday. And I have already booked you a flight.” Your mouth fell open as she turned on her heel and began to leave. “I suggest you start looking for something spectacular to wear.”

You fell back into your chair as she left, defeated. Kyle was giggling.

Today was Monday. You had two days to find something to wear. You stood suddenly, a combination of terror and excitement knotting in your chest and stalked over to friend. Grabbing him by the shoulder you pulled him up.

“I have two days to find something to wear.” His expression quickly turned from amusement to distaste as he noted the determined gleam in your eyes. “And you’re going to help me.” It was your turn to laugh at his groan as you dragged him from the kitchen and into your room, forcing him to rate each outfit that you pulled from your wardrobe.

#ahs #james patrick march #hotel #hotel cortez #american horror story #coven #reader #cordelia #imagine #witch #magic #liz taylor #the countess

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honey-hippie-harper · 3 years

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Infrangible

AFGHSAGHJS THIS IS SO LATE IS NOT EVEN FUNNY ANYMORE LMAO

In my defense, I stopped being a person long ago and now, in all the ways except physical, I happen to be a potato. BUT ANYWAY :’) This is for the Renegades Ship Week hosted by @greasicookies <3 (Thanks again!), for day 5, which is Maxpie. The prompt is “secrets”! <3

I had a tough time writing this because I’m going through a lot of stuff rn :’) still, I hope you can enjoy it x’ddd.

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @obsidianfr3sk @the-wee-woo-rita and afsghagshja @all-weather-is-bad (because this is a very...me fic lol and I think you’re already used to my sad attempt at humor haahahaah i’M SORRY AGSHJAKL) AND @lackadae because agshjs I made a reference to one of your drawings, hon :’) (I promise once again, to catch up with your content once I feel better afsghjak).

And that’s it. I hope you like it <3

When Max turned nine, he reached the conclusion that everybody forgot their early years at some point. Before, Adrian had already explained to him that wasn’t quite true, because he misunderstood Max’s statement and thought he was feeling bad about himself for not being able to recall certain things. He told him that, unlike what he thought –which was false because that’s not what Max meant- people usually couldn’t store those memories from when they were younger than three.

“Some people do.” He said. “But it’s normal if you don’t remember anything from when you were…I don’t know. Two.”

“Do you remember anything from when you were two?” Max asked him.

From the other side of the glass, Adrian scrunched up his nose. And then, obviously, he saw himself in the need to adjust his glasses.

“I’m not quite sure whether I was two or not. But I do know I was younger than five.” He started. “There was a small canal on the way to the apartment. When it rained, it would grow a lot. It didn’t have big torrents or anything, but it did grow a lot. The water usually went higher than my ankles. But the thing was…that every time it grew, it became infested with turtles.”

He paused for a second.

“I really liked turtles.” He continued, shrugging. “My mother used to let me walk down to the water, as long as she was right behind me, obviously; one day, when we were coming back from the city, she stopped to attend a call. I got too impatient and went down alone when she wasn’t looking. The next thing I remember is that, just when I was getting up after catching a turtle, I felt her tugging me by the back of my shirt. The turtle fell on its shell.”

At that point, Max realized he had been staring at how he kept on fidgeting with his pen instead of looking him in the eye, but he continued doing so, because he didn’t like it when Adrian’s voice turned that serious.

“…She had never screamed at me like that.” He said, as if he were talking to himself and then, to erase the tension, he tried to scoff. “I don’t remember what she said, but I remember that she said it so loud I told her she was scaring the turtle. Then I started crying. Like, a lot. I think she was terrified too.”

In the end, everything turned too quiet for his liking, and Max did something his dad had advised him to do for times like these, when he just didn’t know what came next: Improvise.

“I didn’t know you liked turtles.”

“…Well, I did. I really liked turtles when I was younger.”

Max had seen a couple of turtles in his life, but not as many as Adrian had seen, he supposed, because Max had never stepped outside, except when he was a baby.

Which was exactly the point.

He didn’t have memories from when he was a baby, or a toddler. Most of the people who had come to talk to him had said they remembered events that were either too sad (like Adrian) or meaningful in their lives. Max didn’t have anything like that. In fact, his first –very blurry- memory was standing on the edge of the quarantine, with his hands pressed against the crystal, and then licking it.

According to his dads, he was between three and four (“He was three, Simon. What are you talking about?” “He was born in November.” “It wasn’t November yet.” “We had just celebrated his birthday. He was four.” “HE WASN’T FOUR, SIMON! HE WAS THREE! THREE! We were celebrating that his quarantine had just been built!” “IT WAS THE SAME EVENT, HUGH!”) and Aunt Tamaya, plus the both of them, were in the hallway. For some reason, the fact that his eyes were so huge (they were still big. But they were bigger when he was a baby) came off as odd to Tamaya. And the moment they made eye contact, he licked the glass.

Nobody knew why. Not even himself. The adults remembered it better than he did, of course, but none of them had ever been able to guess the reasoning behind it. They often expressed Max had been a very strange baby, mostly because of his lack of social skills. It’s not like he had chosen that, and it’s not like his fathers would’ve allowed it to happen if they had had any other option. But Max wasn’t willing to stand there and pretend that he knew what he was doing, either.

Most of the time, he didn’t.

He barely held any memories of the nurses that had ever been in charge of his care, but, for obvious reasons, he remembered Dad. It was always easier to remember the person who had taken care of you the most, he supposed. And Max knew, among a lot of things, that it wasn’t his other dad’s fault. Though, sometimes, he couldn’t help but blame him.

Again, he didn’t know why, but there were those days, when he needed he the most, where a voice inside of his head told him that, if Simon loved him enough, he would just sacrifice his powers to be with him. His powers weren’t that useful for combat anyway.

“Okay, but that’s kinda mean.” Adrian told him the first time he opened up about it, the night before he attended the Trials to choose the members of his patrolling team. “Pops might not have combat powers, but they’re as important as the rest of the members’. That’s why they work so well as a team, you know? Every power can be extremely helpful during a battle, as long as you know how to use it.”

Max wasn’t doing anything in particular that day. Nothing besides listening to Adrian and sitting on the floor , at least.

“But if every power is useful…” He said, tilting his head to the side. “…Why are you allowed to reject certain aspirants?”

Adrian frowned a little, not in the sense that he looked angry at Max. Rather, he was confused by the question and was trying to word the answer in a way that sounded rational.

“Because…” He gulped and clicked his tongue. “…Like I said…uhm…the Council is an extremely good team. They’ve been doing this for a while. Us, the patrolling leaders are…allowed to reject certain prodigies because we don’t have as much experience as them. And…we might not know how to use somebody’s powers, and that’s very dangerous. We don’t want people dying, do we?”

When he said that, something clicked inside Max’s brain, and he nodded in automatic. Obviously, a few years ago, a non-prodigy teacher had taught him how to read, and the moment Adrian notified him it was his year to be in the Trials, he managed to read the manual and the rules for the event, from a booklet and a pamphlet (respectively) he had asked his dad to bring for him. He didn’t get much new information, different from the one he heard on TV or the one presented in the posters. However, amongst the rules, there was a section that talked about banned powers, which contained only two categories:

-Complete telekinesis.

-Stardust modelling.

“Yeah.” Dad told him. He was bathing him in the quarantine’s bathroom (Of course. Where else?). “Stardust catchers…which….are able to model stardust, are extremely dangerous and there’s not much research about them. Nobody really knows how they work, and it would be pretty difficult for us to… handle a prodigy like that.”

“Like me.”

Dad had always had a pretty specific routine he had to follow when bathing him. If he missed or misplaced a step, he acted like would explode or something. Also, Max didn’t understand why, but ever since he started growing thicker hair, Dad became pretty strict on the fact they should take care of it so it would grow healthy. Hence why they had a full hair routine that they did in the bathtub. That day, the statement caught him so off-guard he grabbed the wrong bottle, and then, when he realized it, he was already pouring the dense liquid (that looked more like a paste to him) on Max’s head. Cursing under his breath, he placed his other hand in the middle so it would fall over his palm, washed Max’s head and started the routine all over again, before changing the subject:

“About complete telekinesis…there’s obviously a lot of research about that power. We know how to manage with that. But telekinetic prodigies are not …very accepted in our society. They’re pointed at…Frowned upon. In the worst of cases, other prodigies hunt them down and then kill them.”

In that moment, Max came to the conclusion that all that changing the subject thing had been in vain.

Because, from his part, the answer was exactly the same:

“Like me.”

And Dad didn’t like that, for he started scratching his scalp harder, accidentally.

“No. It’s nothing like you.” He said. “You’re not like that, Max. Society hates telekinesis because some evil dude decided to use his powers, his telekinesis, for awful reasons and stained prodigy’s names. You’re not like that. You’re not abusive, or selfish or evil. And I don’t want to hear you comparing yourself to him ever again. Understood?”

To this day, that was the most aggressive form of validation someone had ever given him, but Max took it anyway, because he trusted Dad, and if he had said something like that, then there had to be a clear reason behind it.

“Understood.” He whispered.

And he tried, he really tried, to believe it. But, like many other things, no matter how hard Max tried, he was still severely confused. Not that he didn’t know about the Age of Anarchy, or the parties involved in the Age of Anarchy.

The quarantine, needless to say, could get pretty boring most of the time. Max had to do a lot of things to kill time, and some of those activities involved reading books that children shouldn’t be reading. He did read some children’s books, but then he would find himself looking through history articles and books, and reading the chapters that interested him the most. For instance, he was confident he knew about the Age of Anarchy, but one thing was knowing about it, and another, different thing, was having an opinion about in regards to it.

Max didn’t know if he had something to say about the topic. If he did, it was a very incomplete idea, and it was very likely he wouldn’t be able to phrase it correctly.

The group of people Max talked the most to were adults, and those adults, especially the ones who had experienced the Age of Anarchy and somehow managed to make it out alive, refused to talk about it. As for the few children he had talked to…

Well, about them…

Long story short, they had lives.

They all had lives outside of a glass, unlike Max. Maybe they weren’t the most interesting of lives, but at least they for sure had to be more interesting than his’. They didn’t have a pre-established schedule, where a designated person would come in to feed him or extract blood samples from his body, to then take them to the laboratory. They didn’t have to hear a total of seven alarms to remind him what he had to do: Wake up and get dressed, have breakfast and brush his teeth, enter the virtual sessions with his teachers, take a shower, have his blood samples taken, start doing his homework –if he had any- and do whatever he wanted once he was finished, have dinner, brush his teeth and go to bed, and then start all over again.

That moment, when he had spare time, would be the same one normal kids used to go out with their friends, like Adrian did. To go to the park and get themselves a scarily huge wound at the center of their knee. To live. To breathe air. To do…literally anything that wasn’t this.

Because Max was different from the many children he hadn’t yet gotten the opportunity to meet or talk to, because, obviously, they wouldn’t want to spend the whole day hanging out with a person…like him.

The only way Max could see two out of the three people in his family was through a crystal wall. And he couldn’t kiss them, he couldn’t touch them… sometimes he even wondered if he knew how their voices sounded, because, after all, Dad’s voice sounded the tiniest bit different once he crossed that infamous glass door.

He couldn’t walk through the streets of Gatlon, because, for starters, he didn’t know them. And if he dared to go out there, he would get killed on spot for having accidentally neutralized a prodigy who didn’t want to be neutralized.

Other kids had nannies whom they complained about when their parents couldn’t look after them (at least that’s the kind of things he saw on the TV shows he watched) but Max had patrol units that would move from one corner of the room to another, ready to attack anyone who came closer than necessary to him, because the only one who could take care of him in person, was Hugh.

Other kids could go out freely, without being scared of anything at all. They could get hurt while having fun with their friends and family. They could laugh until they cried with them. They could hug them, sleep in the same bed as them. They could walk their pets, go on road trips, go to amusement stores, water parks…

They could experience the current world; watch all the new events that were happening every day, in first hand.

They didn’t have to read about the past, or the people from the past to keep themselves entertained. They didn’t have the need to do that. At all.

They were living the lives Max couldn’t have, because he was too dangerous for that.

And obviously, that’s why he couldn’t just…go around asking other kids about what was their favorite bug, their favorite planet…or their opinions about Ace Anarchy, and if Pops (Simon) saying “Alec, with an A as in Abusive Swine” made them laugh.

Besides, he hadn’t even met that many kids his age. Or kids, for that matter.

He was aware Adrian wasn’t exactly a grown up, but he wasn’t a kid either, so, he usually didn’t make it into that list.

In fact, just like the banned powers in that manual, there were only two kids in Max’s list of acquaintances.

Aunt Tamaya’s first baby was born without powers, when Max was like four years old, and his dads were way too excited about it (Weird thing to brag about out loud, honestly, because all the recruits in the Headquarters were betting ridiculous amounts of money on which powers the Thunderbaby would have –Max could hear them- and one day they just heard The Dread Warden storming into the hallway, euphorically screaming “GUESS WHAT, MY LITTLE CHERUB BABY? YOUR COUSIN IS ABSOLUTELY FREAKING POWERLESS!”), for they thought Max would finally be able to have a friend who was more or less his age. Dad was the one who brought him in, two weeks after he was born. He was still tiny, red and chubby, and wrapped in his three different blankets that way, he looked like a bloated marshmallow.

Aunt Tamaya, her husband, Pops, Adrian, Aunt Kasumi and Uncle Evander were outside (as always) waiting to see what happened…and, it was extremely odd for Max to admit it, but he couldn’t remember much about that moment, even though he was already older than three. There was, however, a video taken by Uncle Evander where, if you narrowed your eyes hard enough, you could see the moment Max burst into tears right after kissing the baby’s cheek.

Neil was his friend.

At least, Max considered him to be his friend. Still, they had an age gap of four whole years, and a part of him was waiting until he was a little older so they could be on the same page. Because sometimes, when Neil couldn’t comprehend something semi-important that Max had just said, things could get pretty awkward, because there were occasions when, if Neil got too frustrated over anything, he would start crying, and his sobs often summoned his mother all the way from across the building. She never particularly tried to put the blame on Max. In fact, she hadn’t even glared at him not once, ever.

But she did choose to take him with her, into her office, or ask Adrian to babysit him while he calmed down. Afterwards, he usually didn’t come back to the quarantine.

“It’s not your fault, Max.” Pops would tell him, always. “It’s just that…Neil...he’s younger than you. There are things that might be…easy to you, but that are super complicated to him. And you might be able to do things that he can’t, and he can’t understand why he can’t, so he gets super confused and angry and that’s why he cries and Tamaya has to come and comfort him.”

“That, and because she’s like a...very freaky bird mom who hears her children cry and comes around with her super sonic enhanced sense of hea—“

“Hugh, don’t be rude.”

Every time they had that discussion in front of him, Max could never understand why Pops said Dad was being rude. He was right, to a certain extent. Aunt Tamaya was just…being a mom.

And that’s what moms did.

At least, that’s what Max had read and seen on TV because families like his’ were…super rare to find in his cartoons or favorite books. In fact, the times when he had seen himself represented in any of the things were so few that, for the longest time, Max had this weird, messed up idea that biological men could give birth. He thought that Adrian, apart from the fact that he was the closest to him, looked more similar to Simon, and that had to mean he had given birth to him, while Hugh had been the one to give birth to Max.

One year, when Max was six, they finished Lady Indomitable’s gigantic golden statue, placed downtown. It was late June, and though the city had previously looked covered in colors, that day it just looked…white and golden. That’s the best way Max could find to put it into words.

According to Max’s weather application, the heat was unbearable that day (good thing he couldn’t feel anything because the temperature in the quarantine was always regulated) yet, according to what he was seeing in one of his screens, a great percentage of the citizens of Gatlon were marching in the streets carrying floating lanterns, headed towards downtown where the event was being held.

The Council was standing in front of the covered statue. All of them except Blacklight, who had stayed to take care of the Headquarters, and Max could see him from where he was. They gave a speech about Lady Indomitable together, and as they started revealing the statue, Tsunami sang a song that was supposed to be one of Lady Indomitable’s favorite ones, and that Max was too young to recognize (he supposed). In his opinion, it was a cute event, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t utterly confused the moment he saw Adrian taking one step ahead to be the first one to let go of his floating lantern, which was different from the other ones, because his’ was bigger, and it had a big “I”. Besides, people waited a couple of seconds until it was stable above their heads to let go of their own floating lanterns.

It still looked cute to him, but now it looked weird as well. So he got up from his chair, and walked towards the edge, pressing his hands against the glass. He hoped that would be enough to magically catch Evander’s attention, who was, at the moment, using his chair as a swing, as he typed a number in his computer, copying it from his calculator and eating from his salad every now and then. Obviously, Max’s telepathic call wasn’t enough, and he had to knock on the glass a couple of times, loudly. Even then, Uncle Evander didn’t look up in his direction.

But he did hear him, because he did respond.

“It’s not gonna work, Maximus. I’m not getting you out.”

As a side note, Max considered telling him his full name was Maximilian and not Maximus, because that was way before he realized it was a nickname. Nevertheless, he just let it pass, for the simple reason he had better things to ask. That’s why he proceeded to knock again, instead of speaking.

“What is it?”

“I wanna ask you something.”

Evander tried to steady himself in the chair without falling on his back, and once he succeeded, he came closer to the quarantine, with his arms over his hips.

“Why is Adrian doing that?” He asked, just because he wasn’t able to find another way to phrase it, while pointing at the screen behind him; Evander narrowed his eyes following his finger, as if he hadn’t been watching the event himself from a livestream on his phone. A few seconds later, he seemed to realize what he was talking about, and bit his upper lip, before pouting barely a little.

Then, he clicked his tongue.

“Because that’s his mom. And today’s her birthday.”

And it’s not that Max was insensitive enough not to recognize that it was very sad, but at the same time those single words were enough to make the idea he had of his life fall apart. All the things he thought he had already managed to understand felt fake and incorrect, and it was so fast it almost made him feel dizzy.

“She’s not his mom.” He declared.

Evander opened his eyes very widely and, next thing he knew, was that, for some reason, he looked nervous. Which, to say the least, was very…unlike Evander. He was usually super…confident, and, in Dad’s words: “He walks with his back too straight for a person who says some dumb shit every time he opens his mouth”.

At that moment, his back wasn’t straight at all, and he kept on wiping the sweat off his palms in the suit.

“…I mean…she’s not…alive anymore. But… that doesn’t mean that…”

“Noooo. I didn’t mean that.” Max cut him off. “She’s not her mom, because Adrian already has a mom.”

He stopped suddenly. Max could almost see his brain working at full speed, trying to process the data he had just received. Then, he blinked, arching his eyebrow.

“Who’s…who’s his mom?” He asked, getting closer to the crystal, and crouching down to be at Max’s height (Evander was almost too tall for his own sake). “Do Simon or Hugh…?”

“No. I mean she’s not his mom because Simon’s his mom.” Max stated, confident enough to move a mountain with his raw determination and his bare hands, which, needless to say, did nothing but make Evander even more confused.

Not that Max couldn’t understand why.

He was a brand new, redeemed person now.

But back then he wasn’t.

“…Simon is what, you said?”

“Adrian’s mom.” Max reaffirmed.

Still bewildered, Evander gawked. Perhaps he understood where that confusion was coming from but, at the same time, maybe he was too disturbed to ask for additional information. Max didn’t know which one of the two would make him feel more embarrassed, especially taking into account the next thing Evander said:

“That is the weirdest shit somebody has ever said to me, and I’ve talked to the Puppeteer an unhealthy amount of times.”

He wasn’t the one who explained to him the way his own family worked. On the contrary, he immediately told his dads about it, and next time the both of them came to talk to him, they tried to make him understand the concept of homosexual couples.

And they failed.

Miserably.

And he was using that term, because after that talk, Max went through life for a while saying that his ethnicity was Gay, because both of his dads were gay. Over and over again, they tried to correct him, but nothing seemed to work, and Max kept on spreading the information that he was gay (something he didn’t know yet) until Aunt Kasumi decided to intervene and, for his birthday, she got him a children’s book called All in Rainbow, which, according to the information in the first page, was actually a translation from a Latin American book written by two lesbians (one of them non-binary) and illustrated by the same woman who had made the Anarchists’ and the Renegades’ graphic novels and was also a Latina.

That book was something similar to a gay encyclopedia. It was narrated by this girl named Phoenix, because it followed her throughout her school and her daily life, where she came across different people and families. After every short story, there was an informative section explaining everything in regards to the new person’s identity, including their flag, the meaning of said flag, and the explanation of certain terms. Max really enjoyed it, and, in fact, he ended up going through it more than once. When he tried to persuade Adrian into reading it too, he admitted he already had, when he was younger, and proceeded to make a comment about how pretty the name “Phoenix” was.

It was only then that Max was able to understand how his own family worked, and how freaking inept he had sounded when he decided it was a great idea to use it as an ethnicity.

That book was, in fact, the cue for all the grown ups in his life to start buying books for him, which he was grateful for, except for the one that he, ironically enough, had gotten from Uncle Evander. Sure, he appreciated that he had spent money on that, but Max didn’t appreciate the fact that the plot was about a dog that was sent away to a school for dogs but made everyone believe he was in jail so he could escape. The drawings were cute, but he just couldn’t find the moral of the story and he didn’t like that.

His dads, from their part, got him a book about two frogs that, at least to Max, acted as if they were a couple; Aunt Tamaya was the one of the short books without drawings.

As for Aunt Kasumi…she usually brought a lot of educational books; every time she overheard him expressing something that was making him confused, she brought him a book about it, including that time she heard him asking Ruby Tucker “So, are you always bleeding?” completely out of context.

Max supposed that it had a lot to do with the fact that Aunt Kasumi was in charge of Child Services, and she spent a lot of time with children, especially because she liked to volunteer in orphanages, having been in one herself when she was a little girl. She usually moved in prodigy orphanages, for she was one to know the poor conditions they sometimes presented.

And…to say the least, she wasn’t a woman of many words. She was very reserved with everything she did. And, besides, it was none of Max’s business. After all, he was just a kid.

But, in this case, it kind of involved him.

Kind of.

For the simple reason that there were two names in the list of people his age Max had talked to. The first one was Neil (who wasn’t even his age. He was just close to that) and the second one…

The second one involved Aunt Kasumi.

Just like people were able to overhear his conversations through the quarantine, Max was able to overhear the conversations they were having on the outside, especially when he was trying to do it on purpose.

Every time he was too bored, in other words.

Some of the things older people said were confusing, but, over time, Max had learned to store that information, so he could comprehend it better in the future. He didn’t know at what level that was healthy, yet he still did it because, literally, he didn’t have anything better to do.

During extremely busy days, the Council chose to spend the night in the Headquarters, just in case, and while they could sleep in the common room, if Pops was too insistent on wanting to be close to the quarantine, they slept in the hallway.

In Max’s hallway.

Of course, Dad would sleep with him inside the quarantine but, in order to make it feel more like a pajama party, they slept close to the edge of the “room” (if it could be called that way), so close to the Councils’ inflatable beds, they could’ve touched them if there hadn’t been a wall in between.

When they were sleeping in that hallway, there wasn’t a patrol looking over Max, because they were the patrol and, every two hours, they changed turns to stay awake. All of them except Dad, who stayed the entire night with Max. The others often got up and started walking around the quarantine according to their ages. That is, Aunt Tamaya went first, followed by Pops, then Aunt Kasumi, and Uncle Evander at the end. However, since it wasn’t like they were too used to having many hours of sleep, Kasumi and Evander usually got up at the same time and patrolled together.

That night, Max was having trouble sleeping. Dad was hugging him, which made him feel very comfortable, but, at the same time, before he wrapped his arms around him, he had been moving way too much, and that had made Max feel uneasy, because a part of him, though he knew it was highly possible it wasn’t true, was feeding the annoying worm at the back of his brain that told him he was the one making Dad uneasy. That Dad was moving and couldn’t sleep because he didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Perhaps he would’ve preferred to be with Pops. Perhaps he would’ve preferred to be with Adrian, even. Anyone but Max.

Which, again, he knew things…weren’t like that. But that little, nameless, uninvited worm was always telling him that, over and over again, determined to repeat those awful words until they made so much noise they made him cry.

And even then, when he was already crying, the worm ate deeper into his brain and told him to stop because, in the end, who was he crying for anyway?

Who was he crying for, if nobody was here to see or hear him?

That night, of course, he didn’t cry, for the simple reason that…well, he did have somebody who would hear him cry, and maybe comfort him like Aunt Tamaya comforted Neil when he was crying…

But he didn’t want Dad to do that.

Not today.

Not because he were mad at him, but because he feared that, if he did, then Dad would be the one who would get mad.

Besides, that night he got extremely busy trying to overhear the conversation between Kasumi and Evander who, the moment they got up, started talking as they walked, first at a volume so low their voices could’ve been considered murmurs, but then, with every second, the issue started escalating.

And it wasn’t that they were arguing, it was that they weren’t exactly happy with each other, nor did they seem to manage to get to a mutual agreement.

Max felt like that time he was watching a movie with his earphones on, and instead of paying attention to the plot, he kept trying to identify which sounds were dominant in his left ear, and which ones were dominant in his right ear, because Uncle Evander and Aunt Kasumi were walking around the quarantine, and the echoes of their voices were floating right behind them, making it almost impossible for Max to decipher their messages word by word.

At least, until they stopped in front of him. That is, very close to the inflatable mattresses, too. And with just one eye open, he was able to tell Aunt Kasumi wasn’t amused, with her arms so tight across her chest that way, and with Uncle Evander standing more straight than necessary (because, yes, Dad was right about that...sometimes... because Max had read somewhere that tall people had to be really careful with their posture to avoid spine deformities or have less complications when they were older) waving his –as Aunt Tamaya would’ve called them- Hot Cheeto fingers right in front of her face, in a way so aggressive she sometimes had to lean backwards not to get one of her eyes poked out.

“…and it won’t look good for the organization. It won’t look good, Kasumi. You know why?”

“Yes, Vandy. I know why. I already knew before, yet you took the time to explain it to me another seven times. I mean, thank you, I guess, but—“

“If I kept on explaining it to you, it’s because I didn’t…and I don’t know what’s not clicking.”

“What do you mean with what’s not clicking?” And she tilted her head to the side. “…Are you still talking to me?”

“Don’t play dumb, Kasumi. Especially not in front of me, because I know you.”

“Right. But I still don’t get what you’re referring to. What’s not clicking about what, exactly?”

Evander laughed in a way Max would’ve just…understood if she had decided to punch him in the face so he would stop.

“We’re a big organization, Kasumi. People talk.”

“Of course that people talk. I mean, our citizens support our cause and our government system. In fact, statistically, more than half of the population do, but sometimes there are things that… are for their own good but they will refuse to understand and accept them anyway. And that’s normal. We might be the law, but we can’t control how the masses think, you know?”

“For their own good, you say. Beneficial.”

“Exactly.”

“Beneficial for who, if you’d be so kind?” Evander laughed again. “As far as I understand, we’re talking about one single problem, from a single person. It won’t bring anything beneficial, as you call it, for our organization, or for our system…if anything, it will damage it and make us lose credibility.”

“…Why?”

As a response, he started flapping his arms around, as if he were trying to point at something invisible. Or at something that wasn’t really there.

And this time, Aunt Kasumi didn’t try to pretend she was seeing it, and remained silent until Evander realized he would have to make himself understood.

“Because…” He clenched his fists, sighing loudly, almost like he was certain he was right and Aunt Kasumi wasn’t. “Our policy. Remember that? You know, a thing that actually exists and you helped write?”

She didn’t respond.

“Our policy as Renegades, it’s that we shall keep our people safe, and that includes prodigy and non-prodigy citizens. We shall preserve their lives no matter the cost, and create a safe environment where all can coexist and protect each other. That means that no prodigy individual with questionable reasons is to be allowed to cross that gate and disturb the peace or, worse, put somebody’s life at risk.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Yes, you should be, because we wrote it, for fuck’s sake.”

“Evander, please. There’s no need to curse or—“

“…But you know what that means? It means that we can’t just…go against that policy and expect our citizens, our recruits, even, to still take us seriously.”

“Oh, but I’m following that policy because, as you might remember, we also pledged to assist anyone whose life was at risk, and people who, day by day, have to live under very vulnerable circumstances. It is our job to intervene and take them to a safer place, where their quality of life can improve, isn’t it?”

“It is, but that applies for people who aren’t dangerous to society.”

At that point, Max had both his eyes open, and he was seeing the scene more clearly.

In fact, everything was so clear, that he was able to read the confusion in Aunt Kasumi’s expression, even before she said:

“…This is a kid we’re talking about.”

“She is dangerous.”

“She’s not dangerous, Evander. She's a kid. Sure, her behavior has caused her to go bouncing from orphanage to orphanage like a rubber ball but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be helped, that doesn’t mean we should just turn our backs at her, and that doesn’t mean she’s dangerous.”

“You know damn well her behavior’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, I am, because that’s the only thing that should concern us at the moment.”

“No, it’s not?”

“It is. Because she’s a kid…and, honestly, Vandy…” Aunt Kasumi sighed. “… I know we were raised thinking life is war, but… the truth is, people are not born evil. Or dangerous, for that matter. Take your time and think about it, and you can talk to me again once you’ve calmed down, because you must be pretty much aware I don't appreciate this tone. Besides, it’s not like this little argument is going to stop me anyway.” She shrugged.

“…after all, I already talked to Hugh.”

“…And what did he say?”

“It’s not my place to tell you that. Ask him.”

Max never knew whether he had taken that suggestion or not but, knowing Evander, he just assumed he hadn’t. And, to be honest, he never asked Dad about it either. He just stood and watched how everything proceeded to go down and chaos unleashed.

Though, he had to admit, unlike what had happened with other “big” events, this one specific chaos was rather discrete. A kind of well-kept secret.

In fact, the only explicit hint that something would happen in the next few days, was the little disturbance caused by Team Frostbite (it was always Team Frostbite. Max had no idea why everyone was so…willing to put up with their…issues so much, and without hesitation) when it was their turn to patrol around the quarantine and Evander came around, holding his notepad, and muttered something to them.

“Whom?!” Genissa Clark, Frostbite, snapped immediately.

Evander frowned and, judging by the way his moustache moved, he also pouted, before turning at Mack Baxter, Aftershock, to start talking to him instead.

“Do you have any idea of what she’s talking about?” He clicked his tongue. “Like…okay, nevermind…”

When Max looked up, he saw the exact moment when Evander realized he was listening to the conversation, so he lowered his tone once again. Yet, Max was still able to see the million ways in which Genissa Clark's face contorted and, in the end, the first second Evander shut his mouth, she declared:

“We’re not available for that. Perhaps that task should be assigned to Team Sketch or Team Peregrine. They’re always lollygagging around, it’s about time they get some real responsibi—“

“That’s a no, then. Alright. Thanks for your cooperation, Team Frostbite. Or, lack of, more likely. Do better next time, okay?”

If Max wanted to be honest with himself, it hadn’t taken him much time to realize he wasn’t fond of any of the members in Team Frostbite. Or Frostbite herself. In fact, he considered her to be almost insufferable, and, again, he couldn’t quite understand why they were allowed to boss everybody around. To a certain extent, they reminded him of the popular kids (who were also bullies) in every movie he had ever watched. They weren’t nice. Not even likeable.

Maybe Max was just very specific on the type of people he liked.

Or maybe he liked everyone and their mom, except Team Frostbite, because he didn’t know any better than that, while at the same time he knew better than liking Team Frostbite.

But he didn’t know better than liking Margaret White, because…well…

She hadn’t done anything particularly awful for him to have an opinion as strong as Uncle Evander’s about her.

She came on a Friday.

Not that she exclusively came to talk to him.

She, in fact, arrived alongside Aunt Kasumi, who was wearing her civilian clothes –High-waisted jeans and a baby blue shirt, damp with sweat because it was hot outside- and kept leaving her car key on every table that came across her, before coming back to it to grab them.

At first, Max wasn’t able to see Margaret very well, mostly because he was distracted with his online classes, and she was taken straight to Dad’s office, along with Adrian’s entire team. And though Max didn’t see much, he was able to catch a glimpse on how Adrian kept on trying to grab her hand, and she insisted on pulling away.

At some point, he had read about that too.

The Renegades accepted recruits from ages 14 and up, talking about patrolling. However, they had a child protection program, where, basically, they assisted orphan prodigy children with behavioral issues or, though only few people liked to admit it, potential to be a part of the organization when they were older. Adrian didn’t like it and, strangely enough, out of everyone, Evander didn’t like it either. Nevertheless, Evander was one to get more aggressive when it came to child recruitment, which, thankfully, wasn’t common at all.

In fact, those cases were so rare, that they referred to them as “exceptions”. After all, children were not allowed into the Trials. As far as Max knew, they weren’t placed in patrol units. On the contrary, they were given small positions in the organization, and their paychecks were directed to their respective savings account, something that Pops was in charge of. However, they could use that money for their personal needs or something they wanted to buy, as the few children recruits resided in orphanages around Gatlon and went back there after their shift was over. Max supposed that sometimes their caretakers refused to buy them something because it wasn’t good for their health and it must be very satisfying to tell them it was their money (That’s what Adrian always did when Dad refused to buy something for him).

(That, or he went and asked Pops for that same thing).

Usually, they could have cash withdrawals just by presenting their Renegade Recruit ID because, obviously, they didn’t have an official ID yet.

And not only that. The children recruits were assigned a patrol unit with older members to look after them, or help them with anything they needed. Taking into account the conversation he had overheard, he supposed that duty had fallen on Adrian’s team (A theory that was later confirmed to be true by Adrian himself).

They were never left unsupervised, just like Max.

The day Margaret arrived, for a couple of minutes, maybe hours, Max was submerged in his own little world, and in the assignment his last teacher had told him to do. It was just him, his colored pencils, his paper sheets, his notes, his head, his hands, and the miniature planet Earth that his quarantine supposed, against the real world that he had never stepped on.

But every now and then, a little piece of the unknown, mysterious real world came running to his encounter and talked to him, sometimes in the most sudden, unsolicited way.

Sometimes it was Dad opening the door without calling. Sometimes it was Adrian pressing a new drawing against the crystal. Sometimes it was Pops, making a little “Psst” sound to get his attention.

Sometimes it was three little knocks, and the girl that was producing them with her knuckles.

Back then, Margaret’s hair was longer, to the point where she could tie it in a high ponytail, decorated with a blue bow, which combined with his orphanage uniform: A white polo, with the institution’s symbol by the right side of her chest, beneath a cobalt blue skirt with suspenders, long white socks and black scholar shoes.

He saw her and recognized she was real the first time, but Max still gave himself a couple of seconds to grasp the fact that she was really there.

Well, not there-there.

That she was there, as in, through the glass.

And she was calling him, even if she wasn’t saying anything. In fact, she was just there, eating from a chocolate bar with puffed rice. Her free hand was still over the glass.

And she was waiting.

So, he figured he didn’t want to keep her waiting anymore, and leaving his task and his tools behind, Max walked in her direction. And like it always happened, he stopped right before bumping his forehead against the hard, translucent surface.

Margaret took another bite from her chocolate, with an arched eyebrow, but she said nothing. From afar, Max hadn’t been able to really appreciate her features, but now that he was closer, he realized she was taller than him; her small, brown eyes were making her lashes look bigger; her black hair looked thicker and he was able to conclude that her skin tone was more or less like Pops’, maybe a little darker. She had a mark over her cheek, and at first Max thought it was a mole or a birthmark…until, of course, he realized that moles weren’t (or, at least, shouldn’t be) purple, and realized it was a bruise.

He didn’t ask her about it. Adrian had once told him that there were people who might not want to talk about their bruises or open wounds, not because the stories behind them were painful to tell, but because they were too embarrassing and telling embarrassing stories was an inconvenience.

“…well… now that I think about it…” He said right after. “…That’s not it. No. Not really. Sometimes your wounds’ backstories are painful. Or sometimes…you just want to keep them a secret, you know? And secrets are…sort of important.”

He believed every word.

Hence why, instead of saying something too nosy about that bruise, a little slowly at first, Max started lifting his hand up, until he reached the spot where Margaret’s was, and pressed his palm there. When she stared at his palm in confusion, Max clarified:

“Hugh five. You know?" Max giggled a little." As in… the Captain? Hugh? ...No?"

She didn’t laugh. And that was odd because Adrian would’ve.

Margaret wasn’t Adrian, sadly. And, it seemed to be, she hadn’t had an older sibling to tell her that some things just…weren’t adequate as icebreakers to start a conversation. Because, like Adrian had said, there were certain things other people might not want to talk about.

“Are you sick?” She directly asked.

Max was still “pressing” his hand against hers.

Gulping hard, he felt his throat boiling hot, almost as if it were growing blisters.

“No.” He said in a hoarse voice. “Why?”

Not pulling away either, Margaret said:

“The other day, Sister Malinda brought a very tiny baby into the orphanage. They were so small they had to take them to the medical wing.” She took another bite from her chocolate, and kept on speaking with her mouth full. “I sneaked out of my room to see them, and they were inside this little glass box that helped keeping them alive. Sister Tam told me so.”

Max kept quiet for a while. He would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t have a little curiosity about the name, but Margaret solved everything that had to be solved even if he didn’t ask her to.

“Sister Tam was named after Thunderbird. She’s younger than the other nuns.”

He guessed so.

Aunt Tamaya’s real name had been revealed to the general public on the 13th year into the Age of Anarchy, when she reappeared after being away for months thanks to an accident that involved Queen Bee and a cliff or something like that (Max couldn’t quite understand it, and Aunt Tamaya couldn’t remember much about it either. If she did, then she just didn’t desire to talk about it). It wasn’t a fun anecdote or anything like that but, according to his dads, the name Tamaya topped the lists for the most female-assigned names for at least a year, and the same thing happened in the 20th year into the Age of Anarchy...however, by the time she was buried, the world didn’t know Lady Indomitable’s real name, and for an entire month, people used Regina instead of Georgia. When Max asked why, Dad answered that, when attending public events, Lady Indomitable used to wear a pair of shiny golden R-shaped earrings that caused everybody in Gatlon to develop mass hysteria and made themselves believe that those Rs meant Regina, when in reality, according to Lady Indomitable herself, one of them meant “Rawles”, and the other “Renegade”. In fact, Oscar Silva (Smokescreen, one of the members of Adrian’s team) had once said that one of his cousins, who lived in Mexico, had been named Renata Regina (Though nobody knew what the heck that first name was, and Oscar had a really peculiar way to pronounce Regina) because she was born a few days after Lady Indomitable’s decease.

“I knew that.” Max lied.

“Sure, buddy. I bet you did.” Margaret chuckled. And there, Max realized she thought she was too clever.

Which, he didn’t doubt she was. He wasn’t in the position to state that. At least, not yet.

But what he was in the position to state, was that, if she thought herself to be clever, then it was his opportunity to think of himself as clever too. After all, he had been reading his whole life because he didn’t have anything else to do.

If Margaret was clever, then so was he.

“You’re talking about an incubator.” He said.

Margaret looked up out of a sudden (Max hoped she hadn’t gotten dizzy). He could still see the chocolate, that at this point should’ve been mush, stored in the inside of her right cheek.

“Uh?” She asked, struggling to keep her mouth closed.

Max gulped, and tapped the surface with his fingers.

“The thing where they put the little baby. It’s called an incubator. That’s where they put pre-term babies, because they’re not ready to survive outside of their mother’s womb. Sometimes their lungs don’t work on their own, sometimes their hearts are too fast or too slow…”

“You look too old to be a baby.” She observed. “Are your powers something related to that? Like, are you a baby who doesn’t look like a baby?”

For a second, Max thought about quoting Evander that time he had boldly stated that Simon was Adrian’s mom, but he didn’t because he wasn’t in the mood to curse.

“…No. First, this is not an incubator. And second, I’m a kid.” He answered. “I’m not a baby.”

“Then why are you here?”

The short answer was that, honestly, that was none of her business. And the even shorter answer, was:

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret. And secrets are sort of important.”

“A secret.” She repeated, as if tasting the word. “…You don’t look like you want to be here. Are you allowed to come out?”

The short answer was still that it was none of her business. But, if he wanted to be honest, for some reason, he didn’t want to give that answer. Because, to be fair, she would find out on her own sooner or later. Because, yes, people talked, and while his dads were kind of secretive about him, everyone in the headquarters knew him. Her being clueless was just a temporary event that would vanish into thin air in a blink.

And, for some reason, he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Maybe tell her something that wasn’t real. Maybe… tell her something that wasn’t necessarily true but that he wanted it to be. Maybe something that was more interesting than what he was, in reality; maybe something that would make the worm in his brain go away for two weeks.

"I can't get out." He finally decided. "Because this glass is infrangible."

Then, he knocked on it three times.

"See?"

Margaret tilted her hair to the side, looking like a cat.

"What does that word mean?"

And dumb as it sounded, Max felt a twinge in his stomach along with a violent wave of pride. Because, even if it was hard for him to admit it, he was hoping she would ask that.

He wanted her to ask that.

"It means you can't break it."

Margaret's eyes seemed bigger. But just as she was separating her lips to speak, somebody behind her cleared their throat.

That's when Max spotted Aunt Kasumi leaned against a wall with her arms crossed. When Margaret looked over her shoulder, she found her there too. But while Max waved at her, Margaret remained inexpressive.

"You're very far from the restroom, Maggie." Kasumi said, in a serious tone. Afterwards, she massaged her temples.

"Please, darling. Just… help me here, okay? We have to go back to the office."

And she didn't seem mad, but rather disappointed.

When it came to Aunt Kasumi, that was enough. Max knew that, and Margaret knew that too. That's why they both removed their hands from the glass, and Margaret started going away.

However, before she was too far, Max asked:

"Why are you here?"

And Margaret turned around, smiling.

"If you're not telling me, I'm not telling you." She sentenced. Then, she proceeded to imitate his voice as she said:

"It's a secret."

And for a while, obviously, it remained that way. A secret. But it wasn't long before they both knew everything they needed to know.

Margaret was integrated into the janitorial team, but, for a while, people talked about her and her powers, and Max couldn’t help but remember what Dad had told him in the bathtub, and the conversation between Evander and Kasumi.

Yet, more than scared, Max felt… something he didn't know what it was. In fact, he wasn't scared of her. More likely, a part of him felt that he knew what it was like to be her, because maybe they weren't that different after all.

People were scared of them both.

But he wasn't scared of her. No, not really.

He hoped she wasn’t scared of him either.

Maybe they could've been very good friends, even through the infrangible glass that kept him from getting pointed at, frowned upon or killed.

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #Dawnie writes #renegades ship week #margaret white #magpie #max everthart-westwood #the bandit

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crimsonandcloverwrites · 3 years

Text

ok bhah ch11 my longest yeah boi ever

i’m literally... so excited I can’t even read it ok ok

oh no not the wedding invitations not this

i swear to god if we have to go through this wedding. knifeemoji

listen I have a fear that we’re gonna get the break up and the car accident same as canon dear god don’t put us through that either

no fears *literally everything that could make bhah more painful* several fears dot meme

god not the jamie invite. she cant even do it. another sign from god you are choosing to ignore

straight to Jamie’s house oh

lmao the red door I just worked out that’s a hill house reference from when I was wondering in like ch3(?) lol the inner workings of my dumbass brain never stop

“can we talk?” it’s happening what is happening

Dani was so tired of lying oh my god

my heart is literally beating so fast

alone in Jamie’s room bro wtf wtf

Jamie is just so soft and understanding always always aaaahhhhh

fuck she just wants out of this wedding so bad but she can’t even tell him

AAAHHH SHE KISSED HER OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING

fuck fgkjhdfkjgh this is not good oh no. Dani finally finally fucking doing something for herself and Jamie so aware that this cannot be happening like this right now

and yet both of them just falling into it anyway oh my goddddd

jesus christ jesus christ “Dani had half crawled into Jamie’s lap, kissing her with a fierce and fervent heat” I am on deaths door

god they’ve both wanted this for so so so so long I can’t believeeeeee

(i am so thrilled that y’all just went there right away btw)

“Please, just - I just want to feel how I’m supposed to.” oucchhhh Dani

god her just... knowing. after one kiss w Jamie that she can finally do it and talk to him and end it and it’s so terrifying but goddd yes

“You think I can ever say no to you?” oof

“Ask,” Jamie breathed. “Ask me.” fucking fuck the power of this line oh my god Jamie is so fucking ready to jump of a bridge for her it’s- the dedication the love the longing the everything I am going insane is it too early to start drinking at 1pm

you’re not you can’t NOT THE CANON DINER SCENE

fuck this is like watching a car crash i can’t look away it’s so fucking visceral and nerve-wracking and painful

but god I’m so proud of her for finally saying what she wants

oh thank fuck y’all didn’t take him out with a passing delivery truck

“You must have known. You know me.” oh god this sentiment always kills me

“She couldn’t say it — the words ‘I’m gay’ forever out of reach — so instead she said, “I can’t.”” my whole body is on fire oh my god this is.... too fucking real

jesus christ the near miss w the truck are u trying to kill me (i actually kind of love that Dani will have to deal w her feelings w him face to face instead of having to bury it all in grief like in canon I am so excited to see how y’all handle that)

a fucking HOUR in the car dfkjghdfkjh the torture

oh honey. literally both of them suffering so much ouch

her favourite saucepan pls this is all so awful and sad but that make me laugh so much the poor confused little duck I am glad she has her comforts

god poor Dani

"Is she here to cook something?" fgkjdhfkgjhfkjgdf

“No. I think you’re brave.” oh

“We’ll figure it out." listen listen I am undoubtedly losing my mind god this is soft

“She had spent so long being asked and not asking. Never asking. She never dared. To ask was to be known, to be made visible, words forging reality as surely as a smith’s hammer. And yet Jamie waited, letting Dani gather the courage herself.

"Can I -?" Dani said, "- stay?"” please fuck I am just so !!!!!!!! about Dani getting to know what she wants and having a fucking voice. just !!!!!!!!

“Jamie inviting her in” fucking just both of them finally getting some of that quiet courage w each other I am yelling so much

“Dani knew that it wasn't just her feeling this, that it had never just been her.” YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT BABEY

““But you do?” Dani asked. “Want to?”

Jamie’s answering laugh was brief and incredulous. “You have no idea.”” I AM: HOOTIN. AND: HOLLERIN

“I am here” hello? hello I am not coping I am on another plane of existence. DANI FINALLY FEELING SO PRESENT AND WHOLE IN THIS MOMENT

god they’re just holding each other i’m tearing up. Jamie is her home

Dani finally sleeping through the night ow my fucking heart

Mikey’s so chill about all of this sdkdhfdkj I love him

Jamie going out n buying her favourite jam... god the tenderness. love is stored in the strawberry jam and the hairdryer

hmmmmm her attraction to Jamie is so closely tied to a lot of really hard feelings this is gonna take a bit to work through huh???

aw Jamie going to Carson I am so happy she has her little band of gays to help her rn

I love that she can just kiss her now when she gets the urge like maybe chill out a lil just landing all these surprise kisses but like good for u girl. good for both of u

the warmth of the house hmmmmm I love that she’s found this esp because she is perpetually cold and Jamie is always warm but keeps it like that for the kid (and probably for Dani too) aaahhhh

cgjkdfhkjgh Dani is so thirsty poor Jamie trying to keep them in check. these moments are so fucking loaded holy shit

Dani Jamie and Mikey are the cuuutest lil family aw

god the tentativeness between them trying to figure this all out and the casual intimacy and just. all of it is so much and so beautiful to watch unfold

i love this little bubble inside Jamie’s house and Jamie kind of drawing the curtains around them both physically and metaphorically while she lets Dani figure things out and lets it settle between them

it’s all about the hands

oh my god Hannah instantly asking if she needs a place to stay she really is the best

soft little mornings with her Jamie like... once Dani finally defeats the ball of guilt in her chest there is so much goodness to look forward to and I am v glad she has that right now even as she is still struggling a bit. my girl needs all the sweetness in her life

also the idea of Jamie getting to wake up to sleeping Dani in her bed every morning after a lifetime of trying to repress her feelings... god

heh she’s already figuring out all the ways to push Jamie’s buttons god these two are going to have some fun w each other

this idea of learning the creaking floorboards of a new home is so... warm

Jamie leaving all the curtains drawn for her oh my heart keeping her safe keeping her safe

Nan would be so proud of ms Dani u know it’s true

awww Mikey comin home to keep her company

Mikey Dani time is always so sweet I love them

my god Dani n Jamie are so intense w each other and just so full of fucking desire... when those floodgates finally open will they even survive

oof Dani is dealing with soooo much ugh. Jamie always there with a gentle way to bring her back down to earth tho my hearrrtttt

“You’re allowed to be happy.” she is SHE IS ty Jamie Taylor voice of reason

a pinky promise to deal with everything together awwww

“why are you so good to me” “you know why” oh my goddddddd. that’s so soft that’s so gentle that’s so much love

Dani finding little bits in herself in media god i love this

Dani Mikey hours best hours

god Carson... sweet boy. And Judy sending over a whole bunch of food oof just. these quiet little reminders of their love for her. Dani’s about to go through a whole bunch more emotions huh?

fkjdfkjgfh Mikey going into protector mode when Carson is there pls i love hm

ohmy “our room” aaaaaaahhhhh

god Dani expecting him to be upset with her I am so fucking emotional. I relate far too much to Dani in canon and in this story and it’s just. painful as hell to see someone go through the things you know hurt the most holy shit

please Carson is so sweet and understanding and telling her he’s proud of her is making me cry so much I can barely see

this whole like.. uncomfortable but relief-filled kind of coming out between her and Carson is so so beautifully done I can’t stop fucking crying

“God, you two were agony to watch.” fglkdfgkjdfhkjgh Carson a voice of the people

“You deserve to be happy.” - Carson and also me and also everyone reading this

god he is so wonderful!!!!!! this reminder that she’s not alone and everything will be ok!!!!!!! Carson I love you so much

the box being described as “the beating heart of their childhood“ god the imagery

Jamie so sweetly making room for her and welcoming her into a home I am emotional again the tears have really been unlocked now I’m gonna be a mess the whole rest of this chapter (i say as if I haven’t been already)

the really sweet way Jamie gets her to open up and trust her with the things that have been on her mind

and Dani doing the same for her god this gentle honest space between them makes my heart feel so full I am just so happy that they’ve got each other

“I want you to stay.” please (also now I’m thinking about AE putting Stay on her Jamie playlist jesus christ I am being tortured)

they get... to wake up.... in bed together. i’m so close to crying again when will this stop

i kind of love there hasn’t really been any like... just no more kissing u know but we still get this insane intimacy between them in a way that’s not them shying away from the way they want each other but so carefuly and sweetly and honestly coming towards each other

awww them always waking up all tangled is so cuuute (also Dani feeling so safe and comfy with her that her subconscious is like lets latch on she is good she is home)

lmao Dani having to mediate between these two dweebs and their playfights is so good

Jamie having her lil family surrounding her aww

(also i just noticed the rating change oh god)

sfkjfhdg Jamie looking at her hips all dark eyes and wanting we’ve all been there girl

“you can look” BOLD DANI MY BELOVED

god these two........ the grabbing her silver chain god @ google how to breathe properly??????

“Then show me.” oh my god

fkgjhdfkj so much electricity they shorted out the power

“this is just as nice” when they’re just hugging please they are so soft

i love that there’s just like... gentle soft banter between them in these quiet moments so much

“Dani, give him more homework.” ghrfjkhjgkjgh

god the heated cheek kiss

this ‘game of chicken’ god they’re just.... really in it huh this is so fun

hmmm Dani going through the suitcases and sort of being able to bring some of herself/her past into this new place is so nice

heh this lil family and their snowfights are so cute

:( she can’t bring herself to eat Judy’s food

Jamie bringing her flowers oh soft

ugh they’re just so softly melting into being together it’s so sweeeeeeeet

“You’re lovely.” and the way Jamie just sinks into her with Dani’s fingers in her hair pleeease I am dying this is so warm

aaaahhhh they’re dancing soft soft soft

“gray eyes fluttered closed, as though the weight of Dani’s touch was too much to bear” god i am..... aaaahhhh

“a gentle calm settling within her. It had seemed that for all her life she had waited for the quiet of this” y’all this is so beautiful and lovely and wonderful and all the good things

ah that kiss. kinda feels like their first real kiss where they just get to be god I am so happy “a profound sense of finally” oh oh oh that’s such a pretty concept

god I love how much they just want each other that second kiss and them just all over each other is perfect and having to try and reel that in and being able to because they know it’s not going anywhere please it’s so so good

god Dani vs Desert Hearts I love this callback and the entirely different circumstances of her watching it again

dsjfhdkjfh oh no Dani losing her mind at Jamie touching her knee god these two have got the biggest storm coming

dfkdjhkgdjh god them like.... trying to take things slow but still letting things happen while having to be aware of Mikey is so funny but I kinda love it and how indicative it all is of them being so grown up and able to approach their relationship in such a mature way. as much as I wish they’d had their teenage love story I do like that it’s unfolding this way now.

“it struck Dani then that she couldn’t remember ever laughing while doing this.” aww

Mikey’s “oh gross” hahahaha poor kid

god this is so funny

“ferret kid” jamie why are u like this sfkjhdfkjf

oh lordt it seems we have reached the unabashedly horny phase good show ol’ chaps

god they’re still so soft tho this is so fun to read

i looove how flustered they both make each other w just their presence. it’s just so !!!!!!

lmao Dani knowing exactly what to do to drive Jamie insane is fdkgfdkjgh perfect amazing show stopping more neck kisses more teasing more barely restrained desire i love it

“the reckless rush of being in each other’s arms” AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

lmaooooo Mikey Jamie is going to lock you outside if u keep doing this

the fact it can just fade back to comfortable companionship too is like. ugh i love them together

“Yeah. You can touch me whenever you want.” oh jesus

“No more interruptions, no more waiting, no more holding back.” it’s happening god it’s happening everyone stay calm (also the slow build to this point has been so fucking perfect y’all are writerly geniuses)

lmao Dani is like please can we just get naked why do u want to watch a movie I am literally right here

oh she is not waiting anymore THAT’S MY GIRL GO GET EVERYTHING YOU’VE EVER WANTED I LOVE YOU

“What do you want?” god the tension

aaaaahhhhh just. them being so out of their minds with want but still all nervous and wanting to check in but still just. wanting this so much god this is *chef’s kiss*

lmao Dani already having the hair pulling thing figured out is so good. poor Jamie lol is she even going to survive this

god the fact they’re both still fully clothed n still getting this fucked up just making out n grinding on each other I love this for them

mum just came in to tell me dinner is ready I AM ALREADY EATIN GOOD

lmao fuck I am just... so thrilled for Dani finally getting to experience this get ur whole world rocked baby u deserve this

thumb in her mouth i-

“my idiot” pls that’s so soft

“You have me.” i know this is like. horny but it’s also so romantic sfgkjhdfkjg

ayoooo Jamie’s tattoo excuse me while I lose my mind a lil bit

my god Dani is so impatient to get her naked I love her for it so much “I just want to feel you”... ma’am

Jamie being all nervous is so cute aw

god having this lil moment where they just call each other beautiful n get all cute about it while they’re fully naked n grinding on each other.... perfection

god I can’t stop thinking about every other mention of Dani having sex w Eddie and it just being like adequate or like her not letting him touch her and now LOOK AT MY BABY GO SHE’S REALLY HAVIN THE TIME OF HER LIFE LITERALLY BEGGING TO BE TOUCHED LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO

I feel like I’m like cheering Jamie on rn sfjkghdfkj u guys need anything? some snacks? a condom?? ur doing great!!

Dani crying and thanking her like this is an acceptance speech love that for her

Jamie kissing all over her face aww

I can’t believe this whole chapter is them just getting to fall in love for real

“I want to taste you” i am blushing goddamn Jamie get it

oh my god the dream. she’s literally living out her dreams

“that same focused intensity that could make kingdoms fall” I love that Jamie is just as into getting Dani off as Dani is getting off lmao GOOD FOR THEM

Dani: desperately tryin to get Jamie off. Jamie: are u sure u want to tho??? miss ma’am let the girl touch u already she deserves it (but i do love that she’s always just like.... never wanting to make Dani do anything she doesn’t wholeheartedly want to)

“You sitting here on top of me like this is doing more for me than you can imagine.” iconic jamie moment

Jamie literally just like.... ‘you can do whatever you want to figure this out’ is so sweet I love her capacity for just. giving herself over to Dani in every way (not just the horny ones) to let her forge her own path

“It was easy to understand now, the exhilaration of it, why people went crazy for it.” god I love this for her so much everything just falling into place

they’re so soft n comfy together and it’s all just so right and lovely

i love that once they’ve started they basically can’t stop honestly get it girls u deserve all the orgasms

“When did you know?” “Sixteen years.” oof my heart she’s known the whole time aaahhhh. all these lil memories god it really was all out of love I could cry. and Jamie admitting the scarf/scar thing whew she really carried around that moment on her face for the whole world to see (also lol at Dani being so fixated on it this whole time that’s so perfect)

heh they’re so cute with their lil teasing banter exchange

lol goddamn this so so spicy I am just dfklghfjkdjghkjdf (that is to say well fucking done I can’t even speak rn)

Jamie just being like you could literally just look at me and I am turned on I... love this whole situation for her so much

god they’re really just going all in Dani is getting like the.... lesbian sex speed run amen

oh god not Karen on the phone just hang up Dani do it do it

god she is so evil

omg she told her abt Jamie go off Dani I am v v proud of u right now

and she hung up on her godbless babe i LOVE your audacity

heh Jamie so transfixed by Dani’s lil purple sweater and skirt I love her

Dani u are such a tease sfkgjdfkg good 4 u tbh

awwww she got Dani’s desk for her oh my god that’s so lovely

Dani n Jamie being entirely not subtle over dinner w their lingering glances and Carson just laughing at them fkjghdkfjgh i love it. he’s so happy for them even w his teasing aw

aaahhh i just love Jamie giving her this space and this room in the house and Dani feeling so right in it

oooh an almost “I love you” god they’re just fuckin u-haulin in love perfection huh

and now we’re back to horny hours love this for them. gotta bless that desk somehow huh!?

i love the mentions of all this soft stuff about belonging when they’re about to rail each other it really rounds it out emotionally

“Get on your knees.” OH MY GOD THE JAMIE ON HER KNEES REDEMPTION MOMENT IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING

HELL YEAH IT IS this is truly what we all deserve

oh my god literally ripping her clothes off her fuck i love how desperate they are for each other and just how into this they both are always

dfgkjdfh jesus Dani are u ever going to be able to get work done at this desk again after Jamie does.... all of this to u on it

“Good girl.” the single most powerful sentence in the lesbian language

jesus christ this is still so incredibly steamy sdflkhskhg it never ends. and them like.... experiementing a bit w some different um. approaches? lol good 4 them good 4 them (and us)

my god them instantly getting all soft after about making each other happy please they’re so dang cute

ok love that we are also getting Dani on her knees it’s equality.gif

this little “I like you” “I like you too” confession right now is... so fucking soft and like... after everything they’ve gone through they still have the power to kinda knock each other off their feet w lil things like this huh?? sappy lil shits

oh no Judy I am scared

holy shit Dani “Didn't think you'd love me anymore” owwww my heart

god Judy is such a good mama I love her so much. reassuring her she’s still a part of the family my god I am so emo. she loves her so much

aw I love this lil shared bathroom scene after so many awkward moments w Dani and Eddie in their bathroom and so many mentions of her fogged reflection. things are finally clear and it’s wonderful!!

lol Jamie well if u didn’t want Dani to get all horny u shouldn’t have worn suspenders!!!!! it’s simple math!

god Dani has changed so much this chapter which only takes place over a couple of weeks right?!?!? after so much anxiety and being so unsure of herself this is so fucking beautiful to see

stop the car thing oh my godddd. she doesn’t even care about having her own cause she’s so happy w the person she’s sharing with I’m so overwhelmingly happy

“You’re perfect.” please I will cry this chapter was so perfect (also so are the memes I cackled so much)

#bhah #lmao this is long as fuck #god this chapter was good I love everythng about it #we did it joe #lord what an experience

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avversiera-writes · 3 years

Text

touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 7

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 4k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO] [CHAPTER THREE] [CHAPTER FOUR] [CHAPTER FIVE] [CHAPTER SIX]

You wake up with a fog in your mind, but you think nothing of it as you pull yourself out of your bed. Your limbs are heavier than usual, and your stomach is screaming for a crumb of nutrient, but you power through, thinking nothing of this since tiredness and hunger are nothing new to you.

You freshen up and pull your hair away from your face, and put on clean clothes. After a moment of perusing your laundry, you make a mental note to do them soon.

You slip your feet into your sandals and grab your weapons in a hurry, not even sparing a glance at the parchment on the floor containing your house bills. You do not want to be late, especially when Tobirama told you in the beginning to always be early. Tobirama has told you to meet him at the market since he wanted to look for new weapons and to commission people into making ninja tools for Academy students to train with. You run outside, only stopping when you see Tobirama standing in front of your building with his back to you. You stare at him a little longer, not meaning to linger on the space on the back of his neck, or the muscles of his back moving in and out as he breathes.

You slowly walk towards him, ignoring the way your heart falters and stops.

“Took you long enough,” Tobirama greets you roughly.

You roll your eyes and bump your shoulder against his. “I thought we were meeting at the market.”

Tobirama glances away, and you follow his gaze. You find nothing out of ordinary in the direction he is looking at.

“Are you hungry?” Tobirama asks suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Are you hungry?” Tobirama repeats, this time his tone is insistent.

You stare at him in bewilderment. It’s not like he knew you skipped breakfast. “Y-yeah.”

“Let’s go,” Tobirama says, and he starts to speed walk down the street.

You lightly jog after him, a chuckle bursting out of your lips. You do not know what has gotten into Tobirama today, but you admit that this is a new side to him that you have not seen yet. He is not being pissy, but rather, he seems to be holding out a light for you to get closer. He is more lenient with your antics. You try not to think too much about it, as it makes you feel weird and queasy in your stomach.

You reckon it’s the hunger.

You walk beside him as he leads you to a small eat-in store, where they are selling fresh baked bread, porridges and drinks. Tobirama stands to the side as you peruse the menu outside the store, and when you have decided, the two of you slide into a table, with Tobirama sitting in front of you.

A moment later, someone comes in to take your order, and when they leave, you frown at Tobirama.

“What?” Tobirama scowls.

“Why didn’t you order for yourself? Green tea is not breakfast.”

Tobirama looks uncomfortable as he loosens his shoulders. “I already ate. You, on the other hand…”

Your mind blanks, coming up with nothing. Not even a teasing remark.

This is surprising, you muse to yourself.

You shrug, and Tobirama’s eyes narrow at you.

“How is your training going?” Tobirama inquires in the tone you deem casual for him.

“I’m making small progress,” you tell him. You fold your hands and rest your chin over them. “Your notes really helped.”

Tobirama nods.

For a moment, you thought that he was going to brag about it, but he did none of that.

“I have some new books for you to go over,” Tobirama suddenly says, not even easing you to its idea.

“More books?” Your brain hurts at the thought of new material to consume.

Tobirama glances at you affably. “I think you’d like them.”

Huh?! You exclaim to yourself. Since when did your interests matter to him?

Thankfully, your food arrives quickly, and you do not waste time to shove them in your mouth because Tobirama does not get you to talk when you are eating. However, he is looking at you strangely and he looks almost horrified at the speed you are inhaling your food.

“Slow down,” Tobirama warns. “No one’s going to take your food.”

You cough and bits of food spray out of your mouth. You turn away from him to compose yourself, and when your chest is no longer spasming and you are able to swallow down a big chunk of food, you grab his tea cup without thinking and down the tea in it.

Tobirama is not sure whether he is astonished or disgusted.

“Thanks,” you gasp.

Tobirama nods, feeling half of his face grimace. “It’s fine,” he tries to convince himself.

He gestures at the person by the counter for the bill, and you are suddenly embarrassed that he is paying only for your food and not even for himself.

“Wait, can’t I pay half?” You ask him, stopping his hand from putting the money on the small tray.

Tobirama glances at your hand on top of his and he stiffens. “I got it.”

“Tobirama…” You start, doubtful.

Tobirama raises an eyebrow. “Really? You choose now to have some shame?”

You sigh, and you give him a playful smile. “Be careful what you do for me, Tobirama. If you’re being nice today, I will be taking advantage of that.”

Tobirama knocks your hand off of his and he places the money down. “You’re the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met.”

You cackle. “The honor is mine.”

“It’s not a compliment,” Tobirama immediately shoots back.

You let the moment pass, and then, you lean forward to gauge his reaction. “How’s the search for future partners going? Any special women or men you have your eye on?”

Tobirama suddenly looks indignant. “No.”

“Aw, why not?” You think about it. “I mean, it shouldn’t be hard. Look at you, you’re so handsome.”

Tobirama is not sure how to react, so he stares at you instead, forgetting to scowl or even frown. His words form in his mind, but they end up being scrambled as they reach his mouth.

“You don’t believe me?” You challenge him.

“What?!” Tobirama harshly snaps.

You call the person behind the counter and gesture for them to come closer.

“Yes?”

Tobirama manages to gather himself to glare at you. “What are you doing?!” He hisses under his breath.

“Tell me honestly,” you begin, trying to sound thoughtful, like this is the most important discovery. “Isn’t he handsome? Sexy, even?”

Tobirama feels like there is a cauldron underneath him and he is hanging over it to be boiled alive.

The person glances at the two of you with shock.

“Um…” They nervously glance at Tobirama, who is glaring daggers at you, his face red.

You laugh, and you hand the money to them. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. Have a good day!”

The person bows to Tobirama, squeaking out my lord and they scuttle away from your table.

You glance at Tobirama, noticing the coloring on his face almost matching the three stripes that frame his face perfectly.

“Are you angry?” You ask, taking note of the redness of his skin. “Or hot? It is summer.”

Tobirama stands up abruptly and walks out, his fists clenching by his sides.

You chuckle to yourself, and you follow after him.

“Come again, er…” The person calls out. “What is your name?”

You see Tobirama standing just a few feet away from the door.

“Y/N.” You smirk. “Senju Y/N.”

Tobirama feels his knees give up on him and he sways a little.

While Tobirama walks straight ahead with purpose, you make a point of stopping by each stall to look at their items and try out free samples. While you mile around, Tobirama makes a point of slowing down to wait for you even though he does not stop for anything. You try to pull him towards a stand that sells little toys and trinkets, but he does not budge until you tell him that you found a drawing that looks similar to him.

Tobirama sighs and lets you grab his arm towards the paintings. A man sits on a stool underneath an umbrella, painting away.

“Where is this painting?” Tobirama grounds out, entertaining you instead of brushing you off.

“Here!” You point at a snowman overlooking a snowy mountain range. “Pale and cute.”

Tobirama scowls and he immediately marches away but you see that his eyes are warm, almost brown and you feel like you are staring at a hearth. You pull his arm back before he can make it far.

“I’m kidding, that’s not it,” you tell him. “It’s this one!”

You gesture at a portrait of him, and Tobirama stares at it in wonder. It is him, yet in the painting, he looks older, his eyes wild and desperate, and his shoulders heavy with burden. Something in him aches and he turns away from it, feeling like the portrait is trying to speak to him.

“What, too ugly for you?” You tease him, and you duck a little to meet his eyes.

“The nose looks a little big,” Tobirama replies vaguely and you roll your eyes.

“You’re popular!”

“I am popular enough,” Tobirama states and he starts to walk away. “Let’s go.”

The morning sun is now reaching the center of the sky. The heat is starting to rise up, and it burns the back of your heads, but the two of you power through it and finally, you arrive at a school of blacksmiths. Tobirama enters in, and you follow him, the sight making you misty-eyed. The sound of metal clashing against metal, of the fire being started and water sizzling, it all hits close to home.

“Lord Tobirama,” a smith greets him. When he turns to you, a flash of recognition lights his face.

You keep your face neutral, not knowing what the smith’s intention is. You go towards a table of freshly made blades to hide your face, letting Tobirama do what he needs to do here.

Your eyes go to the kunais hanging on the wall, the length of their blades varying. You approach it and take the sheathed kunai and weigh it in your hands. The weight feels weird so you unsheath it, completely surprised that it falls apart to become two kunais, splitted in half. You put it back, and go back to the table of blades to run your finger on their surfaces.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” The same smith from earlier approaches you. Tobirama is nowhere to be seen.

“Yes,” you answer. “Though I have seen better.”

“I bet you have,” he says and hands one of the blades to you. “I am Nuga.”

You accept the blade with both hands and you behold it. In its reflection, you study Nuga, making mental notes on his body language and the way he is positioned, formulating a plan to escape him in case something goes wrong.

“What do you think?” Nuga inquires. “It is yet to be attached by its hilt, but it is one of our best works so far.”

“The blunt curve of this tachi is perfect,” you murmur. You set it down and look into his gray eyes. “What do you want?”

Nuga smiles. “I have a job for you, Man-Killer.”

You grit your teeth, and suddenly you feel cold washing all over you and you lose feeling from your face and hands. A shiver runs down your spine.

“I haven’t heard that name in a while,” you coldly say, letting the ice drip in your words.

Nuga raises his chin towards you. “I heard you have been out of commission for a while. Some people are looking for you.” He folds his arms. “Though I did not think that you’d be hanging out with Konoha’s echelons.”

“It just happened,” you snap.

Nuga nods. “So, this job–”

“Sorry, I don’t do that anymore.” You shoot him a dangerous look, your hand itching to draw your own sword. “I’m clean now.”

“Will the price persuade you?” Nuga asks, stepping closer to you. “You are one of the best–”

“Enough,” you interrupt Nuga. “Stop it. I am not doing it. Find someone else.”

You make a beeline towards the exit, but Nuga’s words stop you cold.

“No matter how clean you think you are because you have stopped killing for the money, it does not erase the bodies you have murdered,” Nuga calls after you. “They are forever dead because of you.”

You bow your head slightly and clench your fist.

“If you change your mind,” Nuga starts as your foot steps forward. “You know where to find me.”

Tobirama watches you as he walks you home. All the jokes and the playful remarks have stopped, replaced by a serious look on your face. He rarely sees you this serious, and he waits for you to divulge your thoughts with him or even get angry and spew some shit to deter your thoughts, but you do none of those.

The two of you are reaching your home, and you have not even spared him a glance.

While he was talking to the master of the blacksmith school, he overheard a little bit of your conversation with one of the blacksmiths there. The word Man-Killer sticks to his mind like a persistent stain, and it makes his stomach turn. He wants you to ask him for help if you are in trouble, or better yet, tell him everything, but how can he ask you that without condemning you? Do his brother and Madara know about this?

He is not even sure if you took the job or not since he was pulled away at the last minute about prices and delivery of the commissioned weapons.

Tobirama is a second away from doing what he should do: take you and hold you in a cell to interrogate you.

However, he wants to trust in you. He should. The least he can do is to give you the benefit of the doubt. You deserve it.

You did say that you do not do that anymore and that you are clean.

Tobirama thinks that he is becoming ridiculous.

He propagates enough chakra to feel you out.

He reaches forward and catches your arm, and you whirl around. He feels that you are upset.

“Are you okay?” Tobirama asks, hating how vague he is. He is always so straightforward that he does not know how to move away from that extreme.

“Yes,” you reply coldly. Your voice is too detached.

A lie.

Tobirama searches desperately. How can he ask this? Of all the times he is smart, why is he incapable of saying the right words?

You wrestle your arm away from Tobirama, and you stare at him. “Why are you asking?”

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

You regard him cautiously, and Tobirama sees a sliver of you. The one you tried so hard to mask. He is only beginning to scratch the surface and he wants to keep peeling each skin to get to the core. He feels like he is on the tip of something here, like the rush of adrenaline before the success of an experiment.

Who are you? Tobirama wants to blurt out. He wants to know. He badly wants to know. He has never desired something this bad.

“Of course,” you tell him, and your eyes move to search his face.

You are telling the truth.

The tension in Tobirama’s shoulders releases, and he watches you walk away from him. His skin itches where he has touched you, and for a moment, he almost follows after you.

He stops himself and shakes himself out of it.

You are telling the truth.

The moment you stray, he will be the one to stop you.

You wake up sweaty and feverish. Your mind feels foggy, and you just do not feel right. You feel cold and your head hurts, and the light coming in from your window makes it worse. You let out a long sigh, and relax into your bed. Your limbs feel like there are anchors attached to them, dragging you down to the bottom of the ocean.

You give yourself a minute to come to, breathing in and out to brace yourself to move.

Then, you count from one to three.

One.

Two.

Three.

Red flashes under your eyelids, and you let out a cry as you attempt to roll out of your bed. You fall to the floor, limbs splayed like a newborn foal. You bite your lower lip to stifle another cry, but your chest begins to heave, and you are unable to control the sob that breaks out of your mouth. You clench your fist, cursing the world.

You should have known that your old nick-name would come back and bite you in the ass. You never took pride in it, for you, it was always a job. The people chose to name you that because when you were young and desperate to live, you killed a man who had assaulted you in self-defense and fled.

Maybe you should have not fled. Maybe you should have faced the consequences, but back then you were running away from your family. You had no morals, and you only cared for yourself.

Your breath comes out shakily, and you press a hand to your face.

More flashes of black and red flashes in your vision, and for a moment, you see vials of medicine surrounding you, all wrongly-labelled. A woman appears above you, pouring poison into your mouth as you fight her with all you have got. You are weak and so small, and she holds you down until all the fight leaves you and she is forcing your mouth open to make you swallow more of the medicine.

“Drink, sweetheart, it will make you feel better, ” she says.

“Mother…” You gasp out weakly, your lungs unable to fully support you. “What...have you done?” Your voice fades into a whisper.

The woman brushes your hair from your forehead. “I’m making it better. Don’t worry, love, I will keep you safe. You know why?”

You stare at her weakly, trying to fight the grogginess from your eyes.

“Because I love you the most.”

You push the flashback from your mind and force yourself up. You hated being sick.

You know that this is probably fever from fatigue, but you cannot bear it. It feels like you are young again, and you are helpless and dying.

A fever is a fever, but to you, it is a death sentence. A slight sniffle or a light cough is enough to send you panicking.

You let yourself cry, but when it is time to get out and back to work, the traces of your tears are gone and you put up your walls that you have spent so much time making. Nothing will come out.

Tobirama feels relieved when he sees you come in, but you look worse for wear. You do not spare him your words, but that is fine with him. At least you are here.

He gives you your share of work for the day, and he does not say anything as you move away from him and take to one of the corners of the library to settle in.

Tobirama is great with silences, but he cannot stand yours.

But he bears it because it seems like it is what you need today.

When it is time to leave, he finds you asleep in the corner. He does not dare wake you, and he crouches in front of you to study you. His eyes go to the strands of your hair splayed on your sweaty forehead, and the frown etched upon it. He expects you to open your eyes and draw your blade to stab him, but you do neither.

He slowly puts the back of his hand on your forehead, and he realizes that you are sick. He studies your chakra, and he finds that it is a lot better than before. Though you are very exhausted to the bone.

He sits beside you, debating on what to do next. He knows he cannot leave you here, but he also does not want to alarm you.

The new clock in the library ticks away loudly, and Tobirama looks to the waning light on the floor.

A sudden weight presses against his side and he feels his heart beat pick up as your head rests against his shoulder.

He does not know what to do. Your weight on him does not bother him that much.

He glances at you, and finally, he makes up his mind.

“Brother, are you sure you are not pushing her too hard?” Hashirama asks with concern, his voice sounding both far away and near.

“Are you serious?” Tobirama defensively retorts.

You open your eyes to the bickering Senju brothers, and you let out a groan. Their voices make your head throb.

“Hey!” Hashirama chirps. “Welcome to our humble abode, again!”

You are dimly aware of Tobirama assisting you to sit up. “Uh…” You croak out with uncertainty.

“You are sick,” Hashirama announces. “And we’ve done all that we could, but your body is very exhausted. You must rest.”

You bring a hand to your forehead, remembering that you were in the library last time you were awake.

“Eat,” Tobirama commands, bringing a bowl of soup into your sights.

Hashirama looks offended. “Tobirama! Be nice.”

You take the bowl of soup from Tobirama’s hands, briefly touching his warm fingers with your cold ones.

Hashirama sits by the foot of the bed, the mattress dipping from his weight.

“So,” Hashirama begins. “I took a look at you.”

You glance at the Hokage, wary.

“Tobirama says there is an improvement in your chakra pathways, but last he checked, you were worse off,” Hashirama continues. “I undid some of the damage to make it easier for you, and we will have to do more gradually. I did not want to overwhelm you. With a lot of training along the way, you should be able to use your chakra with ease and be in top shape.”

You glance at the Hokage, feeling like the two Senju brothers have just invaded your space. Nonetheless, you thank Hashirama.

“I owe you one, Lord Hokage,” you tell him seriously, like you are taking an oath.

Tobirama catches this and he frowns.

Hashirama pats your knee. “Do not worry about it. I am happy to help.” He glances at Tobirama. “Though you should also thank him. He carried you all the way here and insisted that you are to be a priority.”

“Elder brother!” Tobirama scolds indignantly. He looks at you. “I don’t want your thanks. I just did what any other person would do to help someone who does not know self-preservation.”

“Tobirama, stop it.” Hashirama glares at his brother.

You nod glumly, the fog in your mind still there. You stare at the soup and you take the spoon to scoop some.

“Please take your time and stay here,” Hashirama heeds. “Do not worry too much about the work for the curriculum right now. Focus on your health.”

You snap up to meet the Hokage’s eyes. “I don’t want to–”

“Please, I insist,” Hashirama firmly says, squashing any room for questions or rebuttals.

You sigh, and you stare at the soup blankly. “Alright,” you give up.

Tobirama’s eyes are on you, his stare burning through your head. Then, he walks out of there without another word.

Hashirama gives you a look of sympathy, and you look away, unable to bear it.

“We will see you later.”

You set your bowl aside when the Hokage has left, and you lie back down. You pull your legs towards your body and close your eyes, willing away whatever is ailing you as if it is that simple.

Tobirama refuses to even let you touch any of the work the next day, even though you did your best to prove to him that you are feeling well. The two of you hurl insults at each other, until Hashirama is coming in to break the two of you up, saying that the two of you are waking his children up so early in the morning. He mitigates by suggesting that you can do some light reading, and by sending Tobirama outside the house for errands. He is the Hokage’s right-hand man, after all.

For the most part, Tobirama leaves you alone, except he appears when it is time for you to eat. He stares at you intimidatingly until you finish every last drop and crumb of your food, and when you do, he stares at you some more, like he wants to sock you in the face, or as if staring will have some help to drive away your exhaustion.

It is getting annoying by the end of the day, so you adamantly ask him to leave you alone.

Which he refuses. Stubbornly.

“Tobirama, please, I cannot do this right now,” you beg him.

Tobirama’s jaw flexes. He walks over to you, but then he stops short, his movements twitchy and not at all him.

“Give me your arm,” Tobirama commands.

You scowl at him. “What now?”

“Just give me your arm!”

“Okay, okay!” You raise your arm towards him.

His fingers wrap around your wrist, and your eyes widen at the sight. It suddenly feels like your fever is back and you loathe it.

“Tch,” Tobirama murmurs. “You’re an idiot. Why did you push yourself this hard? Couldn’t you have taken breaks?”

You snatch your arm away from him, and you stare at your toes.

Tobirama stares at you some more, and it is honestly creeping you out. What does he want?

“What?” You snap.

Tobirama rolls his eyes. “Shut up and rest.”

“I am not tired,” you stubbornly reply. “And I do not want to accumulate too much debt from the Senju brothers, so I should go.”

Irritation flares in Tobirama’s eyes. “Stop it.”

“Tobirama, give me a break.”

“No.”

You want to scream, as this situation is becoming worse and worse. Tobirama is so overbearing, and it seems like he wants to keep track of everything you do. Your panic over being sick pales in comparison to how he is acting.

The door opens to reveal Hashirama.

“Tobirama,” Hashirama calls, exasperated. “Leave her alone.”

“Brother,” Tobirama chides, barely sparing his brother a glance. “I am talking to her right now.”

“No, no you are not,” Hashirama walks over to tug Tobirama away from you. “You are bullying her.”

Hashirama manages to drag him to the threshold. “Why are you acting like this? Get a hold of yourself!”

Tobirama tugs his arm away from his brother harshly, and he glares at his brother. Then, he glances at you. There is a lot of turmoil manifesting on his face–his lips are pulled into a straight, taut line, his jaw is tense, and his eyes, his red eyes are on fire, like coals burning in a forge.

The air tenses and becomes thick, but then he abruptly leaves and the air becomes calm again.

Hashirama gives you an apologetic look and leaves you alone, and you are plunged into the dark again.

Tobirama knows that he is being impossible, and it really is ridiculous, but when it involves you, it agitates him and there is this itch in his throat that he cannot alleviate. He thinks about what you will do next, and he wants to take it up to his brother, but he does not want you to get into further trouble. He would rather fix this himself and do what he needs to do to make sure that you are not a threat. If you are, then this is a matter he will have to take care of himself as well.

He goes back to the school of blacksmiths and demands for Nuga, and when he gets him alone, he corners and questions him.

“Talk,” Tobirama demands.

Nuga’s gray eyes regard the Hokage's younger brother. “About?”

“Man-Killer, ” Tobirama grits his teeth.

Nuga shakes his head and holds out a palm. “Be careful, Lord Tobirama. This is not a can of worms you’d like to open, though everything comes with a price.”

Tobirama narrows his eyes, fishes out money and slams it on the man’s palm. “Talk, or I will see you in a cell.”

“You can’t hold me against my will without proof,” Nuga says. “And I only hold information, nothing criminal.”

Tobirama keeps his cool and raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“She is an assassin,” Nuga starts. “Though she’s only killed corrupt lords and other rogues, robbers, and the like.”

“Why is she here?” Tobirama asks.

Nuga shrugs and smirks at the incoming pun. “Beats me. She says she’s turned over a new leaf.”

Tobirama remembers his hand on your wrist and your words. You are telling the truth.

“Why Man-Killer?” Tobirama inquires.

Nuga holds out his palm.

Tobirama sighs and presses a few more bills.

Nuga leans forward as if this is some taboo to never be spoken of. “Rumor is, when she was a teenager, she killed a feudal lord’s son, who was a rapist. She has been on the run ever since. The feudal lord has a bounty out for her, but of course, no one wants to mess with a reputation preceding hers. She is quite the fighter, even I desire to someday see her in action.”

Tobirama has seen her in action, and he believes this man. His head spins from thinking. So many pieces are falling into place and even if they fit, more questions start to arise.

Nuga shrugs and he turns away. “That is all I can tell you. She seems very sincere about her clean slate though. Back then, I heard that if the price was right, she would do anything. She must have grown some morals.”

Tobirama stares hard at Nuga, and it does not take long until the room is thick with his power. The forge where fire runs hot and wild fizzles into nothing.

“If you ever speak of this again, I will have your head,” Tobirama threatens.

“Of course, I would not want to mess with the people who protect her,” Nuga smiles coldly. “I’ll tell you one thing for free though.”

Tobirama regards him coolly, squashing the mess that is cooking in his mind.

“If you are so ready to defend her and kill for her, you are way in too deep, Lord Tobirama,” Nuga warns. “She has got you in her palm, and she will crush you. She is not called ningen satsujin-sha for nothing.”

Tobirama grits his teeth, but he says nothing back. His mind turns to think ahead, but his heart beats in protest.

However, he is not the kind of man to take the easy way. There is no such thing, in his life.

[CHAPTER EIGHT >>>]

#avversiera writes #angelica writes #Tobirama Senju #Senju Tobirama #senju tobirama x reader #senju tobirama x you #tobirama x you #tobirama x reader #tobirama x y/n #naruto fanfiction #'til death do us part

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bestworstcase · 3 years

Text

tired of ‘it doesn’t make sense for cass to trust zhan tiri’ takes

cass is a cautious person with a good instinct for danger which yes means that for most of the show she is indeed the ignored voice of reason saying ‘hey this OBVIOUSLY SKETCHY situation is sketch’ YES

but

in the latter half of 2 she is mutilated by her friend, blamed for it, made to apologize for her own injury, denied any space to feel hurt or upset or angry about this, and literally told ‘you should know we never listen to you!’ when she gets mad about yet another instance of her saying ‘this seems sus’ only for them to literally walk out on her mid-sentence without even acknowledging that she’s speaking.

cass tries again and again to communicate her feelings and every single time she’s brushed off or scolded or belittled by her friends. her friends have so little respect for her that by the time they hit the hoyt the aren’t even pretending anymore. this hurts her, terribly

then - ok listen. take off the ‘zhan tiri is a horrible evil monster’ goggles put aside your entrenched preconceived biases against this character for a minute.

what is the first thing zhan tiri does when cassandra meets her?

cassandra hears a voice calling her name. following it leads her here, to a disembodied (disemwalled?) door in some sort of enchanted forest. this is one of those obviously sketchy situations that instantly puts cassandra on her guard: she draws her sword while getting her bearings.

[sidebar: those light-and-dark green swirls on the forest floor look an awful lot like the clouds in the lost realm, don’t they?]

then:

ZHAN TIRI: There you are, Cassandra!

[Cassandra looks around, sees Blue, and lowers her sword slightly in confusion. Blue approaches her.]

ZHAN TIRI: I’d nearly given up on you.

CASSANDRA: [shaken] Who- who are you?

ZHAN TIRI: A friend. Or, at least—I’d like to be.

cass at this point is baffled but still on her guard - she holds her sword in a low guard and she’s physically leaning away from the unsettling ghost child.

more important here is zhan tiri’s opening gambit. ‘a friend, or at least i’d like to be.’ she’s dodging the question of what her name is, yes. but also the second part of that statement implies a correction of the first, an acknowledgement that they are not friends and becoming friends is contingent on whether cassandra accepts her overtures of friendship; there is, in saying ‘at least i’d like to be,’ an implication of acknowledgement of and respect for cassandra’s personal boundaries. this is not something cassandra has ever experienced before. contrast it with rapunzel’s aggressive, domineering pursuit of cassandra’s friendship in beginnings.

continuing:

ZHAN TIRI: Come.

[She leads Cassandra away from the door, deeper into the enchanted forest. Though hesitant, Cassandra sheathes her sword and follows.]

CASSANDRA: Wherever you’re taking me had better have a blonde princess.

note how the blank confusion on cassandra’s face hardens into a glare the instant zhan tiri says something that could be construed as a command. cassandra has two years worth of experience in the minefield that is friendship with someone in a position of authority and power over her so of course she bristles at this. i think it is also not coincidental that she refers to rapunzel in response.

but there is also a second dynamic at work here. for two years cassandra’s whole life has been locked into orbit around the blinding sun of rapunzel, and even before then by nature of her existence in the palace as a young girl only a little older than the lost princess she would have spent her childhood in the shadow of a child who wasn’t even present. zhan tiri is the first person cassandra has ever met who is flat out indifferent to rapunzel’s existence. even in vardaros, where cass was better liked by the populace than rapunzel, the people still focused on rapunzel - they disliked her, and they cared enough to make sure she knew it.

but zhan tiri does not give a single fuck about rapunzel. she ignores cassandra’s attempt to make rapunzel relevant to this conversation. she called out for cassandra. she has been waiting for cassandra. she has something she wants to show cassandra. she wants to be cassandra’s friend. rapunzel just...doesn’t matter to her, but cassandra does. and that is disarming, both in the figurative and literal sense. so cass puts her sword away and goes to see whatever it is that this strange child wants to share with her.

[They reach the forest’s edge and enter the memory. Cassandra is startled, struck by the familiarity of this new setting.]

CASSANDRA: This place... feels familiar?

[Blue takes her by the hand and leads her into the cottage. She remains silent, allowing Cassandra to take it all in, until Baby Cass enters with her music box.]

ZHAN TIRI: Do you recognize that child?

[Her prompting makes it click for Cass that she’s watching herself as a child.]

again, set aside your knowledge that zhan tiri is an evil villain and your instinctive distrust of everything she says and just... take a look at this screenshot. what does it look like if you take what zhan tiri says in this sequence at face value?

this is a horrible memory. zhan tiri knows precisely what it entails, because she is the one who dredged it out of cassandra’s mind and set it up for her to experience again. cassandra, however, has only just recognized her younger self and has no idea what’s coming. it’s going to hurt her so badly when she remembers everything—but this is an experience she needs to confront in order to heal from the damage it did to her. so much of her suffering can be traced back to this defining, forgotten moment of her childhood.

we the audience know that zhan tiri doesn’t care, doesn’t have any real interest in genuinely helping cassandra, isn’t revealing this memory to her out of the goodness of her heart - but all cassandra knows is that this is a strange ghost who expressed a desire to be friends and has brought her here to, apparently, show her a childhood memory she forgot. so erase your audience knowledge from your brain for a second and look at zhan tiri’s expression here.

she looks weary. sad, even. she looks like someone who truly values cassandra’s wellbeing, who knows that reliving this memory is going to hurt, who’s showing it to cassandra anyway because she thinks cassandra deserves to know and she understands that this is the root cause of cassandra’s pain and that in order to grow and heal it must be seen, it must be acknowledged, it must be examined.

and that is the impression of zhan tiri’s character that cassandra walks away from this experience with. someone who saw her, and saw her pain, and saw the deep festering forgotten wound of this memory buried under layers of repression and denial, and gently unpeeled those layers and brought that wound to light, because she knew cass couldn’t heal from it if she didn’t know it was there.

moving on:

[Baby Cass approaches Gothel with the music box, only to be coldly brushed off.]

CASSANDRA: ...That’s my...

ZHAN TIRI: Mother, yes. It is.

[Skipping transcription of the remainder of the flashback; what matters is that Blue exists the scene at this point. She isn’t just standing quietly in the corner; she is fully gone, leaving Cassandra by herself to experience the rest of the memory.]

again - obviously zhan tiri knows what happens in this memory, but that isn’t the point. by staying just long enough to help cassandra put this memory into context and then leaving, she gives cassandra complete privacy to process what she is seeing and feel whatever emotional reactions she has to it and express those feelings openly, without any of the reservations she might have about having a breakdown in front of a ghost she met a few minutes ago.

again, contrast this to the way rapunzel treats cass. in under raps, when cassandra tells rapunzel that she’s dealing with ‘some stuff’ and asks rapunzel to wait until she’s ready to share, rapunzel’s response is to stalk her. in RATGT, cass tells rapunzel that she feels disrespected and unwanted and rapunzel brushes her off. in RDO, when cass is mad because rapunzel’s reckless choices resulted in cassandra’s hand being mutilated, rapunzel is furious and backs cassandra into a corner in an attempt to force her to share her feelings and then get over it so things can go back to normal.

how soothing, then, must zhan tiri’s quiet departure must be for cass? how comforting, how much of a relief must it be to have this new person recognize by herself that cassandra needs a moment alone and give that to her without cass even needing to ask?

there is, i think, a direct line of causation between zhan tiri exiting this scene and cassandra crying for the first time in the entire series afterwards while zhan tiri comforts her. cass doesn’t cry, right? even when she thinks rapunzel is going to be trapped as a bird forever, she stops herself from crying. she doesn’t cry when her hand is burnt in the great tree, not even from physical pain. she doesn’t cry in RDO.

but zhan tiri is the only person in the whole series who shows consideration for cassandra’s emotional boundaries, so when cassandra is upset after reliving this memory, she freely allows herself to cry, and she lets zhan tiri comfort her.

because it’s safe. so much blame is heaped upon cass for not being more open with rapunzel, but the thing is - a) cassandra is a lot more open with rapunzel than most of the fandom gives her credit for, and b) rapunzel is not a safe person for cassandra to be emotionally open with because she tramples boundaries, doesn’t listen, routinely chooses to hear only what she wants to hear, and never acknowledges or apologizes for any of the hurt this causes cass.

which segues us into this:

ZHAN TIRI: I’m sorry that happened to you, Cassandra. Sometimes the most painful truths are the most difficult to remember. You’ve always felt outshined by Rapunzel, haven’t you? And you always will, unless...

in this statement, zhan tiri:

1 - expresses sympathy for the trauma cass suffered

2 - empathizes with the pain she feels right now

3 - connects the dots between her past trauma and present angst

4 - verbalizes her fear that this pattern will never change

and

5 - offers to help.

zhan tiri is, once again, the only character in the whole series who does these things. in s1, rapunzel does occasionally try to be emotionally supportive of cassandra - under raps and big brothers of corona are the big examples here - but the way she goes about it tends to do more harm than good. in UR she runs roughshod over cassandra’s clearly stated boundaries and continually escalates to the point of actual literal stalking; in BBoC she utterly disregards cassandra’s statements vis a vis how rapunzel can help in favor of doing a bunch of other things that rapunzel thinks cass should want, and in the process she actively interferes with cassandra’s rest and makes her recovery experience worse.

in contrast, zhan tiri gets it. she is absolutely correct in her perception of the situation: cassandra has been trapped in this pattern of inferiority to rapunzel her whole life. her mother abandoned her for rapunzel, and everyone in her life now is willing to sacrifice cassandra’s needs, her feelings, her physical health on the altar of Rapunzel’s Destiny, and that will never change if she continues on as she has been. and... if cass tried to simply leave, by herself, do you really, truly, honestly think rapunzel would let her go?

she feels trapped because she is trapped, and she’s desperate for a way out, and zhan tiri sees that, understands that, and most important of all, shows her a way out.

so like

when she walked through that door in the house of yesterday’s tomorrow cassandra was a heap of emotional pain and unfulfilled emotional needs—for respect, for compassion, for basic consideration of her boundaries, for someone to see how much she’s hurting, for space to feel things without being asked to sacrifice more of herself for somebody else, for someone to care about her and what she needs and thinks and feels and wants, for an escape from the toxic inescapable dumpster fire of her life—and in the space of maybe a couple hours zhan tiri answered every. single. one.

cassandra entered this situation expecting trouble, and instead she got someone treating her with dignity and compassion for the first time ever sO OF COURSE CASSANDRA TRUSTS HER!!

it beggars belief that the show expects me to believe she never bothered to ask what her new friend’s name was between this point and OAH, and yes, if cass were in a healthier place or surrounded by less toxic people then i’m sure she’d be more inclined to be suspicious of the weird little ghost child who reached into her head and pulled out a suppressed memory. but nevertheless it does, in fact, make sense for cass to conclude after this experience that blue is trustworthy and really does care about her and is a better friend to her than rapunzel.

tts was allergic to acknowledging the legitimacy of cassandra’s grievances in any way after s2 and refused to allow zhan tiri even a modicum of depth as a character so the vast majority of their relationship exists off-screen, which is, yes, deeply frustrating and does a huge disservice to both characters and to the overarching plot of the season. but “why would cass trust her?” is a question the series answers, on screen, in spades.

#rta #cassandra #zhan tiri #long post #it sure does suck for cass that her first taste of what an equitable friendship is like #comes from a horrible evil demon who doesn't care about her and is just stringing her along in order to use her #and then none of her actual friends apologize for treating her like DIRT after said demon stabs her in the back #like good fucking lord no wonder she left at the end #anyway as always i say 'morally complex zhan tiri who actually gives a damn about cassandra' rights

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croatian-nt · 3 years

Text

Sejan podcast

I know this isn’t in order but I also know everyone is waiting for this one so, here you go. Translation under the cut

Host, speaking to the camera: Good day dear viewers, and today-a treat. Dejan Lovren and Šime Vrsaljko. I was tempted to start this off with Šime's famos phase: Good day working people, tonight is a live" but it seemed a bit too much

Host, turning to them: should we expect something like that from the two of you during Euro as well?

Dejan: it's spontaneous for us. For Šime and me. We never know what will happen

Host: oh I see. Is it also partly the fact that you are a bit older now-

Šime: *giggling *

Host: -so you have this mindset of "oh we are older now, we'll leave it for younger players"?

Šime: *giggling louder * well no-we only improve with years that go by

Dejan: we get even worse

Šime: *openly laughing * yes, even worse!

Host: but the two of you continued that tradition even after WC. You call one another, you go live, you guve yourself into the ether, so to say

Šime: I mean, it's not...it's not showing people as much as they think-

Dejan: we show them maybe 1%!

*everyone laughs *

Šime: yeah we show them maybe 1% of the way we-I mean, we show everything through positivity and that's it. I guess people like that

Host: I know the two of you have been active during quarantine. You were both probably bored and had quite a bit of interesting conversations. Maybe we should touch a bit upon that. Is it something you guys plan or does one call another and then you just talk?

Dejan: Oh, it's as I said before. Šime knows that when I call him, I'll call him three times. He has to answer

Šime: yeah, we really don't plan that. I often have some things I am doing but then he is calling me to comment on something and I-I don't have the heart not to answer

Host: so Dejan, you were also quite bored in quarantine, and you tries quite a lot of activities. I believe cooking was also one and that one steak ended up burned

Dejan: the house almost burned down

Host: *laughs *

Dejan: no, seriously

Host: so it ended up completely black huh?

Dejan: yeah. But I did learn how to cook better after that

Host: and you Šime? I believe you said you didn't cook the eggs but the eggs cooked you. That there was oil everywhere

Šime: I mean, they closed us in the house. And I had some friends over and we were all really hungry so I made some eggs. They asked for fried eggs but they ended up getting scrambled ones

*about getting haircuts in Russia*

Šime: so I came downstairs, after the lady was finished with Kova already. And we share a glance and Kova is like 'brate...this really isn't good' but I take a seat anyway, hoping it will turn out alright. And then she started cutting it and I felt she was taking out too much hair so I stopped her. Still had patches of hair missing. It was awful

Dejan: the rest of us surely didn't let him forget about it

Host: so how did all of this start? I know the two of you were roommate and that Dejan pressure you into opening instagram account, which you didn't want to do. But you did in the end

Šime: yeah, he was pesting me about it for days. 'Šime please. Com'on just open an account please' and what could I do? I relented. And then...I think we made that Marica video first?

Dejan: yes, that's how it all started

Šime: yeah. I didn't know how anything on Instagram worked, so I played with filters and that's how Marica happened. Interesting, what can I say

Host: what's interesting is that none of that was planned. There was no plan, no censure, nothing. You just showed us things as they were

Dejan: well I think that's the best, really. Plans rarely work out as you want them

Šime: yeah. We didn't do it to, I don't know, pretend we are funny or for views or something like that. Just...what happens, happens

Host: do you miss it now? The fact that you aren't roommates?

Dejan and Šime overlapping: we didn't-weren't

Dejan: everyone has their own rooms. But it's practically like we are. Not much of a difference

Host: how did you think of your famous "aj lajk" idea?

Šime: well I don't it'-

Dejan: something got messed up in his brain

Šime: -something clicked in or out of place

Dejan: he just said something like "aj lajk a lot" and that was the end of it

Šime: no, I remember there was something-there was that moment well-erm

Dejan: laughs *

Šime: *sighs, shakes his head * I was watching this comedy from Jim Carrie and then he-and then he- *loses a train of thought *

Dejan: *laughs louder *

Šime: *smiles * there was something he did and-I thought of-

Dejan, whispering: aj lajk

Šime: no, it was-

Dejan, louder: ajjj laaajk

Šime: it was something different

*continous laughing from both Dejan and the host *

Šime: ...anway it was also spontaneous

-Card break-

Host: let's make first card break. You take the cards and ask the questions one to another

*Šime and Dejan take each one card *

Host: you can take all of-or you can take them one by one. Nevermind

Dejan: so what, I am asking him then?

Host: yes

Šime: don't give me any hard questions

Dejan: a yacht or a sailing boat?

Šime: a yacht

Host: a big one?

*voices overlaping *

Dejan: as long as everything fits in-

Šime: it doesn't really matter-

*pause. Šime shrugs. Dejan starts laughing *

Šime: I don't wanna sound too posh here. I don't spend much time on yachts and I was never on a sailing boat. And I am not very patient-

Dejan, overlaping: he doesn't have patience for that-

Šime, still overlaping: yeah, exactly-

Dejan, speaking over him: I think he is more likely to push the sailing boat himself-

Šime: I really don't think I'd like that- not one bit. Anyway, SUV or Cabriolet?

Dejan, looking pained: Cabrio.

Dejan: VAR or not VAR?

Šime: *sighs * no VAR

Šime: Jennifer Lopez or Shakira?

Dejan: *thinking*

Šime: Can he choose both?

Host: he can, but if he can choose one that would be better

Šime: I am just giving him an option

Dejan: JLo

Šime: ah, fine I guess

Dejan: rock or hip hop?

Šime: I listen all kinds of music so it depends

Šime: iPhone or Android?

Dejan: iPhone

Host: Šime you didn't play a lot of games because of your injury. We are all happy you are back now but I am curious. How did you feel at home, watching them play and suffer on the pitch while you are at home?

Dejan: what about how I suffered?

Šime: If someone told me I will not play for the nt for so long after WC during WC I eould have called them crazy. But I kept postponing the injury during WC and I paid the price after. So yes, it was hard, watching my boys that I spent so much time with, play without me and struggle while I wasn't there. But I am here now and we have a big chance once again to cheer up people who love Croatia

Host: Deki, there have been some new player joining the nt recetly. How do you think they are settling in?

Dejan: I think, good. I mean when I remember my start, of course you are a bit more shy but I am sure they'll be more outgoing with time. But they seem like nice guys

Host: do you think there is a potential in some of them to continue this entertainment thing you and Šime do? Or are they more closed of?

Šime, cutting in: I think there is always a way to joke around a bit. But-

* Dejan, shaking his head and mouthing no*

Host: no huh?

Šime: but-

*voices overlaping *

Dejan: it just doesn't exist-

Host: how would you encourage them to-

Dejan: you can't. You are either born that way or you aren't

Šime: I mean the two of us have been in the nt for awhile now and it's always the same. Every morning if I wake up even at 4 am I'd start laughing

*Dejan laughing *

Šime: it's just the way it is and you can't really describe it

Host: I wanted to ask, I don't know if this will ever happen but I would like to see you two as hosts one day. If you could choose someone to ask questions as host from the nt, who would it be?

* Šime and Dejan share a look and burst out laughing *

Šime, still laughing: no the thing-the thing is, the two of us commented on probably every famous person ever. Connected to sports or not. But if I had to choose-if I had to choose someone I think I'd laugh to tears with while interviewing it would be Goran Bare

*Dejan giggling in the background *

Šime: it would really be a show

Host: if he could hold a concentration during the whole interview

Šime: I mean it would be something casual, like this. And for the questions we would have...I reallly don't know

Šime, looking at Dejan: who would you choose?

Dejan: I don't know

*silence *

Šime: com'on brate, say someone

Dejan: hmmm. I don't know. No one is coming to mind right now

Host: and from the nt? If you had to choose one teammate?

Dejan: Brozović

Šime: well yes but-

Dejan: he is maybe number one for me right now. I just remembered

Host: and would he agree? To come to a show hosted by you?

Dejan: not only would he agree. He would have to agree

Šime, unconvincinly: mmm. Yeah

Host: Deki, did you get used to life in Russia?

Dejan: well yeah, yeah I did-

*Šime giggling *

Dejan: it's not how I expected. I expected to be able to survive the winter but it's really cold

*Šime bursting out laughing and coughing *

Dejan: I went out on the balcony one day and thought "my freezer is warmer than this "

Šime: so meat can be kept outside with drying clothes. If it's that cold. How cold it is?

Dejan: -30 C

Šime: wow. There we go then

Host: you didn't visit him yet?

Šime: no

Host: and you won't huh?

Šime: oh no *laughs * I said I didn't not that I won't

Host: Šime how did you face Luka after snatching the trophy from him?

Šime: normally. But I remember thinking-since he scored last minute to Villarreal and we won our game. If we ended with a draw and he scored a goal in last minute and won the championship-uff. I wouldn't be able to look at him

Dejan: he doesn't even have space for any more trophies anyway

Šime: him?

Dejan: yeah. Like com'on

Šime: but. Um- *looks at Dejan and forgets his sentence *

Dejan: dragi

Šime: hmm?

*Dejan laughs *

Šime: don't talk too much

Host: We had Budimir here yesterday and we talked about how he got into argument with Savic. He didn't want to tell us any details, but he said you'll surely tell us everything

Šime: he really pushed it all on me huh?

Someone off camera: that's not exactly how he said it!

Šime: I mean I don't want to judge because I am on good terms with both of them. I didn't get involved and I actually found someone else to argue with-

*Dejan laughs *

Šime: but I am really close with Ante while we are with the nt but Stefan is also my friend I talk to every day so. I wouldn't want to pick sides

Šime: I am glad Ante scored thought and that the club bought him so I congratulate him on it this way-oh he just entered

Host: Ante you came a little late. We just talked about you and Savic. Šime told us everything

Dejan: he insulted you to the fullest

Host: he told us everything, we heard a completely different story from you, just so you know

Budimir: will I need to give some sort of reply?

Host: it's too late for that, you had you lr chance and you didn't say anything

Šime: I wanted to say, there was tension during the whole game and it escalated jn the tunnel-

Host: oh Luka, you are a bit late too. We talked about you as well

Luka: I was here already before-

Host: I think he waited until you left to say something-

Budimir: I just wanted to say, he sent Grbic after me. The biggest one

*all laugh *

Šime: I didn't even see Grbic. I was too busy with some other things. Some my exhibitions

-Cards break-

Dejan: who has the best image?

Šime: ufff. Hmmm *thinks for about 30 seconds * Based on my taste? I guess Mateo? He knows how to dress well

Dejan: *laughs quietly *

*everyone from the background start laughing *

Host: you are not of the same opinion

Šime: well I said it's based on my taste

Dejan: next question

Šime: who has the best car?

Dejan: what should I say?

Šime: just say it's you, brate

Dejan: I mean Barišić has a good car

Host: Barisic huh?

Dejan: I wanted to say Luka but Luka is *makes dismissing gesture with his hand *

Luka: soon!

Šime: Luka will have it soon but tastes shouldn't be discussed. Besides whoever has the fastest doesn't mean he is the fastest

*everyone laughs *

Host: so who is the fastest?

Šime: well that I don't know. We should have some sort of competition

Dejan: who gets ready the fastest?

Šime: ufff. I don't know. I really don't know. I can tell you who gets there last but-

Host: who gets there last?

Dejan: captain

Host: Luka huh?

Dejan: well you know it's when you pass 30-31, you immediately pay a fine. So he comes exactly at 30

Šime: but at yesterday's lunch, you should have seen that show. It was 29 minutes and 45 second when suddely the door opens and everyone rushes in. There was pushing and running...chaos. but that's because we have some new regulations like no being late, no phones...but I think that's great

Host: who paid the most fines?

Dejan: ufff I can't quite remember. But I think Reba and Perisic

Host: now I'd like you both to tell me about your childhood, but perhaps something not football related

*Šime and Dejan burst out laughing *

Šime: there is still more of these dragi *giggles *

Dejan: are you fucking with me

Host: alright sorry guys, my bad. Continue

Šime: are you asking me or am I asking you?

Dejan: you ask me

Šime: no, I asked you last. You ask me

Dejan: alright. Who eats the healthiest?

Šime: I think Deki does

Dejan: Me??

Šime: yes. The way he makes and mixes those salad he eats...I am sick from only going to that part and looking at all the stuff you are supposed to put in them. But he does it so carefully and he clearly enjoys it. I mean we all eat healthy but he is like...yeah

Dejan: I mean I really do like salads. And I have this whole pressure-captain sits next to me and he says "make a double salad"

Šime, overlapping: well yeah, he uses him a little, so what-

Dejan: and it has to be perfect, salted to a gram, otherwise it's "what did you put in this?!" *sighs * it's fine

Šime: who cooks the best?

Dejan: cooks???

Both of them: no one

Host: alright so, your childhood. Šime, you can go first

Šime: my childhood? I don't know what to say, really. It was good, I grew up loved, surrounded by fun and playing games with my friends outside. I also thankfully have a younger brother and...I don't know. Most of my fondest memories are the ones spent playing outside, usually with the ball of course

Host: which neighborhood?

Šime: well we moved once so there were two addresses in Zadar, until I finished middle school. And then I went to Zagreb at 14

Host: what about you Dejan? I know you had a harder childhood, but I'd like to touch upon happy moments and not so much on bad ones

Dejan: what should I say? I don't know where to start. I mean I had a really nice childhood in Germany. My parents introduced me nicely to the real world pretty early on. I remember at that time I thought we had everything we needed but...in the background everything was burning. I think I only realize how bad the situation was when we got back to Croatia. But that's alright-it happened for a reason. And I think we can all be proud that we survive it. I am actually sad my brother didn't went through that with us. He was too small

Host: you spoiled him a bit huh?

Dejan: well no. He is 10 years younger. By the time I went to Lyon he was just starting to grow up. Maybe that's why I-because of what happened I developed quite a character. So I can proudly say we all went through that together and today that's something that doesn't have a price

Host: you went to Zagreb when you were only 14 right? Although I believe you said in one interview you really wanted to go

Šime: I wanted to go because it was a call I couldn't refuse. It was football and football is my biggest love. And it's something you just feel you need to do. And when you are that young you are just pulled by your goal, by the love for football. But when I came and when the process of growing up was suddenly sped up...only then did I realize the consequences of my decision. But at that time that was a challenge to which I would never admit defeat. So there was only victory left. And I did win that game of my life. Those kind of moments left a mark on you. As Deki said those things make you stronger and make some things later in life easier

Šime: but don't get me wrong! I am not saying it wasn't nice as well. I am talking her like it's something awful-

Host: was it too much of a change to you at first?

Šime: well no, it was great for me actually. I was supposed to go to Hajduk at that time and I went to two tournaments with them in Zagreb, we won that tournament, I won the best player award and they were demanding for me to come to Hajduk but they couldn't make a deal with Zadar and then the offer from Dinamo came and...there wasn't much thought on my part. It was really great. I was at dorm for the first 6 months. And...I don't have time now but one time when we have time I'll talk about the details and my experience with boys from both on and off the pitch. It was a time of self descovery for me so to say

Host: Deki, I have to ask you something. I have a friend that played with you in Inter and he said that you spend the whole night with them celebrating, but you only drank Cola and similar drinks. Never alcohol

Šime: impossible. I don't believe it

Host: that's what he told me

Šime, turning to Dejan: is it true? How old were you?

Dejan: 16 or 17 I think?

Šime: oh okay, then I believe it

Dejan: I mean I had this sort of mentality of looking at things ahead. It's not that I never got drunk. I got absolutely plastered and I walked on my knees-

*everyone laughs *

Dejan: -but I definitely had days I didn't drink despite hanging out with teammates because i didn't feel like it

Šime: *still laughing *

Host: He is dying of laughter. I don't understand why

Dejan: that's because he saw the time I was on my knees and ge remember that now-

Šime: *laughing louder *

Dejan: so now for him that's-

Šime: no it's *laughing do hard he is incomprehensible * it must have been some time before the game so you didn't drink *proceeds laughing *

Dejan: well yes, that's what I am telling you. The rest of them were getting wasted anyway

Šime: *laughs even louder * this was good, my god

Host: he has good tricks huh?

Šime: no I mean, I am not saying what he is saying is untrue I just *laughs *

Dejan, overlapping: he just saw the worst version-

Šime: I know how he gets when he-*laughing harder *

Dejan: -saw the full transformation-

*both laughing very hard *

Šime, wiping his eyes: oh my god.

Dejan: anyway, next question

Host: Šime that jump of yours after a ball during the game against Belgum...what happened?

Dejan: blackout

Šime: I mean yeah-I was so mad

Host: but jumping with both legs-

*Dejan laughing *

Šime: he is laughing but I am still mad. There were so many situations with Lukaku, he kept pushing the players with the whole "oh I am strong, oh I am fast" I mean he is but. Still. So when I saw him leading the ball I wanted to-I want to shorten his....

*everyone except Šime laughs *

Dejan: his legs

Šime: his way to towards the goal. And I failed and when i saw that in a duel I lost the ball-

* Dejan laughing again*

Šime: and I was tired and under stress so I had to get it all out somehow so i don't do something worse later

Dejan: I remember watching TV and I saw that, I looked at my brother and then back the TV and I said "he had some sort of blackout there"

Šime: I just did what I had to do. If it was concrete there, I would have threw myself at concrete at that moment

*Dejan absolutely losing it *

Šime: I am serious. I would have honestly threw myself at the concrete at that moment

Dejan: *slaps his arm, still laughing *

Šime: I realize it was a bit unexpected from the outside but I just had to do it so I don't endanger anyone else's health later

-Cards break-

Dejan: only two cards?

Host: no there are supposed to be three

Dejan: *looks around, no sign of third card *

Host: lost it on the way huh? It's fine, there can be two

Dejan: alright. Favorite book?

Šime: pfffff

Dejan: *laughs *

Šime: there is no favorite book

Dejan: *laughs harder *

Host: nothing huh?

Šime: no. I know there might be a phase in my life when I will read books, but for now...I just don't have a patience

Dejan: *continous laughter that increases everytime word 'book' is mentioned *

Šime: favorite song?

Dejan: uh. I can't really choose, it depends on a mood *thinks for a moment * but now...let's say from Oliver "Bez tebe"(without you)

Dejan: favorite city?

Šime: Zadar

Šime: now another question that won't be hard to answer. Favorite number?

Dejan: *shurgs * 6

Šime: you didn't really choose some hard questions

Host: if you had a choose one player from the nt who is really special? Personality wise as well-

Dejan: Broz

Šime, nodding: Definitely Brozović

Host: I keep hearing about him. Maybe people from the outside have the wrong idea about him-

Dejan: wrong idea? No, they have the right idea. Exactly the right idea. The guy is hilarious, but also an amazing player. I cannot believe someone can eat 2 kg of pate, 2 croissant and coca cola before a WC match and just. Run for 15 km. I just don't understand that. And then when you ask him how he says: "pateee" and makes hand gesture to the sky. I really don't understand him. I would need 4 days to recover from eating all that

Šime: yeah his mental state...I don't think there is much of a difference for him when he wakes up in the morning on a normal day or when he about to enter a pitch. But I think when you meet him you are surprised actually. He is actually quite quiet and nice and really smart, with a big heart

Host: and he is honest right?

Šime: yes. There is no doubting for him. He will tell you everything to your face and what you think about that-that's your problem. I think that's great

*about their lives and interviews from Russia*

Šime: one thing that I specifically remember from videos of our interviews are people trying to read our lips

Dejan: oh god *laughs *

Šime: I remember whispering to Dejan "look that guy is the same Strina

Dejan: the guy really looked identical

Šime: and someone wrote that I said "look at that woman with big boobs"

Dejan: *laughs harder *

Šime: I mean, how do you even read it so badly??

-Last card break-

Šime: which teammate would you let choose an outfit for your night out?

Dejan: Šime Vrsaljko

Dejan: which teammate would you choose...as a business partner

*they share a look and start laughing, the entire audience joining them

Šime: Well Dejan Lovren, of course

Šime, calming down: alright, alright next question. Which teammate would you choose to-*starts laughing * to-to babysit your child for a few hours?

*everyone burst out laughing *

Dejan: Šime Vrsaljko

Dejan: now, listen to this

Šime, already half laughing: yes?

Dejan: which teammafe would you choose to...change your tire

*both burst out laughing again *

Šime: *catching his breath but still laughing * what-I mean what should I say *laughing again, shrugging * oh fu-

Šime: which teammate would you choose for a gaming partner?

Dejan: *thinking * but you are always playing those video games. Call of duty and stuff. I have to pick Šime again

Šime: well I really sometimes do-

Dejan: sometimes?

Šime: often-and then I tried to get him to start playing-

Dejan: and I did, during lockdown. And he got me into Call of duty. And after 5 hours I say "I am going to bed" and my wife wakes me and she is like "dragi you are shaking "

Šime, laughing: he was shooting!

Dejan: it completely scrambled my brain. So I quit. Stupid video games

Dejan: alright now tell me...who would you choose as a partner in a fight?

Šime: ufff. Well him. I'd choose him for everything. It's a matter of trust. If we were to get into a fight together-

Host: you'd take a punch for him?

Šime: we'd-we'd make it a good fight. Guaranteed

Host: well guys, that's it. I hope you enjoyed-viewers certainly will. This will be viewed a lot I bet

Šime: it was good. Fun. Although I saw that in some podcasts they drink while answering-

Dejan: where did you see that?

Šime: in podcast. When Goran Bare was a guest they also gave him the-the-

Dejan: so I end up on my knees here? Don't be ridiculous-

Šime: -and we'd open the topics much easier that way

Host: I don't know what your coach would say to that-

Šime: -it's classic art. I am not saying we have to drink here just that I think it's cool

Dejan: *laughing *

Šime: maybe some people are a bit stiff so this would help them relax

Dejan: how do you think we'd be like? How relaxed?

Šime: from 1 to 100? 200

Host: well you gave us a good idea for maybe some future podcasts-

Šime: but I think that would need to happen when there are no football activities involved-

Dejan: I think the chair would be sitting on me and not me on a chair

*both laugh *

Šime: just prepare us two beds here so we can lie down after

Host, turning to the camera: Anyway, dear viewers, we'll stop here for today. I hope you all had fun today, and watch us tomorrow as well

#dejan lovren #sime vrsaljko #vatreni podcast #sejan #croatia nt

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