#it's the same queen I posted 6 months ago

[psie-smutki]

Rayne the Yutyrannus ❄️

#dinosaurs #yutyrannus #path of titans #it's the same queen I posted 6 months ago #this was actually the first dinosaur I drew since I was like 8 (actually since 2020 artfight but that does NOT count)

[cry4mina]

Orion’s Belt

(Sana x fem!reader)

Word Count: 7.5k

Fluff/Light Angst/ Smut

Summary: You and your bestfriend Sana take an impromptu vacation after her boyfriend dumps her sparking some interesting interactions and confessions. Tw: friends to lovers, suggestive, sex, drinking, swimming, anxiety on planes, food, thunder storms, cuddling. Let me know if I missed anything! A/N: Halfway proof read! This is a lot different than the others that I've posted and I hope you enjoy it just as much! Thanks to @neoplatinum for listening to me ramble off ideas and pushing me to finish this! Feedback always appreciated and DMs are always open!<3

—

“Sana! Are you ready to go? We have a flight to catch!” shouting from the foyer of her penthouse after letting yourself in with the spare key she gave you, patiently waiting for the Queen Femme to gather herself for your impromptu vacation.

“Yes, Y/n! Just give me a second!” flustered at being rushed by you, her best friend, though this entire vacation was her idea, how could she not already be prepared for it? 

Being best friends of about 4 years meant you and Sana did almost everything together and if she needed you, you were present with no hesitation. Sana purchased the tickets, booked the hotel, and sprung it on you two days before you were scheduled to leave, knowing you would agree immediately.

You and Sana met at a coffee shop downtown on a rainy evening in July all those years ago. Enjoying your latte and watching the rain trickle down the window when she caught your attention and told you she liked your shoes with a brilliantly beaming smile that knocked the wind out of you. You ended up talking for hours and have been inseparable ever since.

You have seen every emotion play across her face over the years, knowing her like the back of your hand and always anticipating what she needed or wanted. She loved that about you and always reciprocated the same tenderness and care.

Two massive suitcases emerge from the doorway, followed by Sana looking elegant as ever, wearing a strapless sundress that flowed off her figure perfectly, hues of peach lightly woven in a filigree pattern around the edges of the white fabric, giving her skin an celestial glow. Her hair is down and slightly messy which was not normal for her, but given her emotional state- and how much she had to pack this morning -you understood. She was just not herself today. 

Sana was going to pack last night but found herself laid on the couch on the phone with you, crying and stressing about her now ex boyfriend and how he broke up with her over text message for seemingly no reason, a few days prior. Confused by the action and saddened by the surprise separation, how could she organize a suitcase if she couldn’t even organize her mind?

The boy she had found herself in a relationship with was not someone you liked, in any sense of the word. The way he spoke to her was vile and always figured he was using her for a social status boost. It was hard to watch the relationship develop unevenly, one-sided in the way of Sana trying to make it work and him not caring in the slightest.

Hoping you were wrong, you said nothing to Sana about it. If she wanted the experience of being with him, you weren’t going to try to convince her to leave him, you knew better that to meddle in her business. Just being around for her if it all fell apart and it took 6 short months for the foundation to crack, cascading the rest of the relationship with it. Sana standing in the middle of the ash and smoke, sifting through the pieces of rubble for the parts of her she wanted to keep.

Truthfully, it hurt you knowing she was with him. The way he would ignore her speaking to talk to everyone else and being too emotionally distant and cold with her. Sana deserved better than this rude and callous man and you wished she knew how badly you wanted to give her the world. 

The anger you felt towards him was justified, you could treat her better even if you were hiding the feelings you developed for Sana. It was a difficult task, considering who she was as a person, so supportive, empathetic, kind and always willing to help anyone who needed it. No wonder you fell for her,  especially with how affectionate you were with each other after becoming so close. 

Always cuddling on the couch, holding hands, and leaning on each other. After almost drunkenly making out multiple times, you always assumed there was something there but never asked or acted on it in fear of losing the strong friendship you built with her over time. 

“Okay, okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.” huffing through the tense air surrounding her. The inflection of her voice drenched in stress with a hint of sadness as she tried to carry on like nothing was happening, catching the single tear that fell from her alluring eyes as it smoothed over her cheek.

You made an empathetic face at her, holding your arms out knowing she will find her way into them, burying her face in your neck, eyelashes tickling you as she sniffles and sighs, finally allowing herself to partially fall apart in your arms and you were just happy she felt safe enough with you to do so. 

Internally, your veins are screaming white fire as Sana leans into you more. Holding her was like holding the personification of the sun, and you were melting underneath her embrace. Warm tones of amber and sandalwood emanate off of her and fill your nose causing your heart to skip a beat, pulse quickening, as you try to push the clouds away from over her head. 

Hands rubbing the middle of Sana’s smooth back in attempts to comfort her through this time, she regains composure, straightening up while you are wiping the additional tears, a small giggle leaves her lips as she grabs her suitcases and waits for you to open the door for her like you always did. 

“Why was your heart beating so fast? I could feel your pulse in your neck.” chuckling out of puzzlement as you both step out the front door into the warmth of the bright summer sun, immediately throwing her sunglasses on to hide her eyes from the rays and the public. 

“Uh…I’m…angry.” telling a half truth as you try to keep your composure knowing she was watching your body language fly through a few different emotions before settling on calm.

She always knew when you weren’t being honest. Your tells were easy for her to pick up on, even if she never expressed that. The way your eyes would veer away from her, always to the floor, pupils constricting with worry of her finding out the truth. What if Sana already knew what you thought you had tactfully hid from her?

The thought sends a slight chill down your spine, bones cracking as you put your luggage into the car while she climbs into her passenger seat. Seat always adjusted to Sana perfectly, she would grill you if it was ever adjusted to anyone else, no matter who it was. 

Turning the car on and looking over at her, sitting with her feet on the dashboard scrolling through her phone looking for the perfect song. Bluetooth was set up to attach to Sana’s phone first because she loved to play DJ and who were you to deny her any happiness, you wanted to give her any reason to smile even if it was as simple as controlling the music.

—

The flight went by quickly, thankfully. Only an hour and 15 minutes of a clenched back and trying to remember how to breathe properly, you weren’t fond of flying. Sana held your hand and checked in with you multiple times through the short flight, she couldn’t stand to see you so anxious in your own skin, but it did bring her great joy to know you’d be willing to face your fears for her. A true testament to how much you loved her and who you were as a person.

—

A 2 bedroom villa by the beach was your home for the next week. It was about as big as a 2 bedroom apartment, still fancy and spacious but with a modern twist. Crown moldings, vaulted ceilings, every amenity you could ever imagine in place. 

There was a small metal spiral staircase to the side of the living room, curious about what it was, you pointed it out to Sana.

“What's this lead to?” questioning the warped metal twisting into the ceiling.

“Go find out!” Motioning her hand up the stairs, your head tilts in curiosity, smacking your lips and then running full speed up the stairs as Sana laughs from below, finally following you when she hears you gasp loudly. 

Tongue pinched between her teeth and smile wide as ever, climbing up the stairs to see your face. You are gobsmacked, hands over your mouth and eyes wide with wonder as you’re taking in the loft with a huge skylight with a conversation pit underneath it. 

“I know one of our favorite things to do together is stargazing so when I saw this, I thought it would be perfect for our week long adventure!” eagerly shouted as she threw herself around you, pressing her chest against your back and resting her chin on your shoulder. 

“This is perfect!” placing your hands over hers on your stomach and leaning into her warmth, and knowing you’d be spending the majority of your nights suspended under the stars with Sana talking about life and enjoying each other's company. 

“Alright, let’s go! We have plans!” suddenly heading for the exit, lightly pulling on your arm trying to get you back down the stairs to get ready. 

“Plans?! Where are we going?” Quizzically as you trample down the stairs, Sana pulling you the entire way.

“It’s a surprise! Did you pack that one outfit I told you to?” as she pulls her suitcases into one of the rooms to get settled.

“Yes…should I put i-”

“Yes. Put it on and give me 30 minutes.” Closing the door quickly behind her, giving no time for arguments or rebuttals. 

Glancing at the clock, the time reading 6:33pm, you pull out the outfit requested by Sana and lay it flat on the bed. A bright red crop top, paired with black slacks, and a black blazer. It was a little dressier than what you would normally wear but it was her break up vacation and if she enjoyed you in this outfit, she’d get you in this outfit. 

—

Steam rises to the ceiling as you sing to yourself in the shower, washing the travel off of you to get a little more comfortable. You wonder how Sana is doing. It’s only been about 10 minutes since you parted but knowing she was going through a tough time, you couldn’t help but worry a little as she seemed very cheery since you arrived on the island. 

Recalling the first time you and her went stargazing together, it was a cool night in October when she called you unexpectedly. Missing her family immensely, reaching out to you for some comfort. 

Water rushing down your back as you live in the memory of Sana coming over to your apartment with that gloomy look living in her eyes. Dragging her to the patio and telling her to get into the hammock you had set up for yourself a few days prior, for this exact reason. 

Laying closely together, holding her as you asked her questions about her family, what they did for a living, about the special memories she had with them from her childhood. By the end of it she was smiling and giggling recalling them with you.

Silence fell between you as you both relaxed and looked up at the sky when you suddenly pointed up at the shimmering night, singling out a radiant sparkle in the blackness of the sky.

“That’s Venus…do you see those 3 stars in a row? That’s Orion’s belt!” enthusiastically talking about the stars and planets in the sky that you could see. She always loved listening to you speak so passionately about things you loved. 

That was the first night you almost kissed, sober, for the first time. Sana had gotten up to use the bathroom and fell back into the hammock face first, always so clumsy, and was merely a half an inch from your face. 

Feeling the heat of her breath on your skin burnt you as the moment tensed, bones stiffening in the face of your best friend. Pull like magnets in your chests as you inched closer before she forced herself away from you, throwing her hands over her mouth, muttering an apology and basically running inside.

Leaving you to remember the way your chest fell into itself and the ache of wanting to feel her lips on yours. That’s the only time you were almost able to do what no one ever could, get Sana to make the first move. 

Always against it with everyone else, she doesn’t chase. If you want her, show her otherwise you’ll get locked into the friend zone, never to be seen in a romantic light again. A familiar sadness creeped into your stomach. Not chasing her was hard for you, but you were so paranoid about ruining the friendship that you just couldn’t bring yourself to play the game.

A sigh relieves some of the compression in your chest as you dry your hair, hoping this would be the night that you finally got over yourself enough to tell her how you felt about her. It was intimidating to think about, considering you still had a week on this island with her and what if it isn't reciprocated?

Slipping into the outfit laid out on the bed, adjusting it accordingly and stepping into the living room noting that Sana wasn’t out of her room yet, of course. Late to everything, as always.

Placing yourself on the couch and peering at the clock, 6:59pm, patiently waiting for her to emerge and deciding to get a little more comfortable, you laid down and scrolled through your phone, eyes getting heavier as the minutes passed until you finally dozed off. 

—

The door opens lightly and Sana steps out in a long black sleeveless dress, cinched at the waist to show off her figure and a slit all the way up to her upper thigh. Hair tied up in a sophisticated bun and make-up flawless, finally ready to go. 

Hands placed on her hips, shifting her weight to one leg when she sees you asleep on the couch, letting out an eye roll and a small giggle that stirs you awake. 

“Good morning, sleepy head!” shouted at you in a volume you weren’t anticipating. Eyes widening as you take in your surroundings and re-calibrate from the deep sleep you found yourself in moments prior.

Eyes shifting over Sana, your breath is pulled from your body. Blood running blue as all hints of oxygen drained from your lungs, sucked into a vortex of pure bliss as you felt the weight of the love you had for the human in front of you, who was effervescently shining brightly in front of you. 

“Sana,” sleepily escapes your lip, awe breaking through the grogginess of your voice, “You look stunning…wow.” If she was drenched in diamonds the delicacy that was her elegance would refract the same amount of light, glowing with the embodiment of pure love that she willingly gave to those who she felt were worthy.  

Staring without care and mouth hanging open, you couldn’t help but gawk at her. A moth to a flame, eyes glued to her figure. Absolutely trapped in your skin as your body temperature rises, flushing your skin a lovely shade of pink. 

“I could say the same to you…” looking you up and down before batting her eyes at you. Watching you stand, completely engrossed as you stretch again, bones rattling under the stiffness of the slumber you found on the couch. 

Neither of you can take your eyes off each other when heading for the door. The closeness causes a slight tension between the two of you, fingers tingling from nervousness at the close proximity, breathing becomes a little more difficult. 

This was going to be a long night.

—

Arriving at your reservation at the local fancy restaurant, you were unable to focus on anything but Sana. Following every refined movement, from sitting in the chair you pulled out for her, to looking at the menu. You were in the clouds, heart eyes evident, completely oblivious to what was happening around you. 

“Do you know what you’re going to order?” questioned without removing her eyes from the wine menu, tabbing through the selections and settling on the sweetest bottle of rosé she could find. 

“Uh…nope, actually. I was distracted.” dropping your head in shame as you quickly find the entrees, picking the ribeye and closing the menu quickly. Eyes back to Sana but she’s already peering at you making eye contact that blinds you, forcing you to look away from her and noticing the emptiness of the restaurant.

The waiter approaches the table and introduces himself, letting you know what the house specials were before asking about what drinks you were interested in for the evening. This prompts Sana to order the wine she was looking at on the menu. 

“We will take this bottle, please” Sana says pointing at the page, hearing the drag of her finger on the thick paper as she underlines the name with her nail. 

“Oh, before you go, why is it so empty in here? During the summer I would assume it would be busier.” Politely asking, I guess she noticed too. 

“It’s the stormy season so most people wait until right before fall to visit.” smiling and leaning to get the bottle of wine for the two of you. 

“…storms?” whispered from the woman made of living porcelain, showing a crack that misted fear onto her perfect complexion. 

The waiter comes back over, shows both of you the bottle before slicing the foil and uncorking it, pouring Sana a little for a taste test. She swirls the glass lightly and takes a sip before letting out a satisfied hum. The waiter takes the go ahead and fills her glass, doing the same for you moments later and leaving quickly. 

“Thanks for agreeing to come with me on this trip, I’m feeling much better already.” An energy emitting off of her that was abnormal. Was Sana being shy? Sana? Shy? How bizarre. 

“You know I’d do anything to make you feel better.” confidently said back in a tone that was a little flirtier than normal. Allowing the boldness to flow before you could stop yourself. Sighing as if you are ashamed, your arms swing to cover your chest and legs crossed trying to escape the awkwardness.

Sana notices and smirks, “I know you would. I'd do the same for you. I think that’s why our friendship has been so great!” raising her glass to you before she sips it lightly, you do the same back, offering it as a cheer but it was really a muffled cry. 

The smile she lets out as she finishes her sentence was an insult to the injury. The word friend branding your chest and the smile the salt rubbed mercilessly into the wound, stinging a little more than normal tonight considering the way she was looking at you earlier.

Growing somber as the night continues on, throughout the meal and through the ride home you barely said anything, not that Sana minded. Your company was enough but it was weighing on her that you were seemingly bothered by something she couldn’t see. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n? You seem off since dinner…” worried as she swipes the card to open your hotel door, launching it forward to let you in first. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I think I’m just tired is all.” a melancholic response from you as you head into your room and close the door lightly behind you before she could ask you anything else. 

Sana stands in the living room by herself in silence, saddened by something she didn’t really understand. Holding her own hands as she gazes down at the floor biting the inside of her cheek, wishing she had the guts to follow you. 

Rain splashing on the windows lightly and a small rumble in the distance, winds howling pushing and pulling the building as it creaks under the force, reminding her of what the waiter said at the restaurant. Stormy season.

“Great.” rolling her eyes at the idea of being in an unfamiliar place and having to deal with the sound of thunder and the flashes of lightning. A fear she’s had since she was a child, alive and well in her 20s that you usually helped her through, but you were upset and she wanted to give you space if you needed it. 

“If y/n can face her fear of flying, then I can face this.” Hastily going into her room, changing into something more comfortable and curling up in the bed, scrolling on her phone as the storm rolled in, tapping on the window a sign of the loud clashes that were going to sing through the sky as anytime now. 

—

Closing the door behind you lightly and plopping onto the bed, you run your hands over your face roughly and deeply inhale, followed by an exhale of equal size as you try to shake off the feeling of dread. 

“Friendship” the word locked between your ears, spiraling and echoing through your memories of all the times you thought there was something between you and Sana. 

Sadness wells up in your throat, choking on the indirect rejection slushing through your brain as the rain falls outside. Thunder rolling in the distance, Sana was going to text you when it got bad you already knew. 

Sighing heavily as you stripped off her favorite outfit of yours, throwing it carelessly out of your sights. Reaching for a pair of cozy black sweatpants and a black wife pleaser tank top. 

Not even bothering to remove the comforter off the sheets, you lay face first into the pillow and sigh heavily trying to release the build up of grief you had been carrying for some time, without alerting Sana. 

Dizzy in a sense, hopelessness washed over you when your phone vibrated about 45 minutes later with a text from Sana. 

Satang<3: are you awake? 

Satang<3: this thunder is kinda scary…

A playful grin lay across your face and you start typing but a knock interrupts the attempt.

 Adrenaline flushes your system as you stand and pull the door open, revealing Sana, wearing an oversized t-shirt that covered whatever bottoms she could have on. Anxiety brewed within her about the commotion outside, jumping closer to you as the thunder clapped loudly against itself. 

“Can I stay with you tonight?” breathed to you through chattering teeth, eyes wide and pouty as she tried to convince you, not that you needed it. 

Visibly shaken up, she takes a big step forward towards you. Your arms immediately open for her out of habit. Half holding, half guiding her to the right side of the bed and allowing her to crawl in between the silky sheets first. 

Taking your place next to her, you click the TV on and find a channel with a random sitcom on to drown out the noise of the clattering outside, hoping Sana could focus on something other than the storm. 

“Maybe we could go to the beach tomorrow?” said unexpectedly through the sound of the laugh track playing loudly, covering the static of the 

“But you hate the beach.” in awe at what you were suggesting to her.

“But you love the beach.” retorted sarcastically with a grin.

Beaming at you as she playfully smacks your arm, leaving her hand carefully placed on your bicep, a form of physical touch, her love language. She squeezed it tightly as the thunder rolled, creeping closer with every minute. 

Her eyes are recklessly running around the room as the lightning illuminates the sky, droplets pounding on the roof in intense waves as the storm thrashes into the night, leaving you to care for your favorite person. 

 You left your arm up and over her shoulder, pulling her closer to you. She is quick to koala herself around you with her head on your chest, listening to your racing heart, and half smiling as she falls asleep in the safety of your warmth.

—

Waking up to the sound of Sana’s sleep heavy breaths was something you always looked forward to when you found yourself sharing a bed. She was so at peace and calm, it was hard to ignore how exquisitely perfect she was. 

Laying with her face in your neck, her closed eyes softened as her brows furrowed in her sleep, small squeaks leaving her lips, followed by a groan muffled by you, sent your body into system overload. What could she possibly be dreaming about that would cause such a sound to leave her perfectly pink lips? 

Her hand slides up your torso gently, her breath hitching as her fingertips smooth over your ribs, bone by bone. Heartbeat visible in your chest as she rolls onto her back and audibly moans your name.

The way it rolls off her tongue makes you instantly insatiable, clenching your thighs together tightly for some form of relief and trying not to assume what she was dreaming about. The way her hips were rocking was enough for you to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, not assuming but knowing that she was having a wet dream about you.

Sneakily stepping out of the bed and turning to see her lazily thrusting her hips in her sleep and continuing to whimper sparked something in you that was indescribable. Unable to shift your eyes away from Sana as she continued on, wonder if this was a common occurrence for her.

Stepping into the bathroom to try and remember how to breathe, you hold yourself up on the sink and turn the cold water on, splashing it in your face a few times to bring you back down to earth. Was she really thinking about you that way? Was it just a one time thing? It’s not like you could just ask her, that would be weird. 

“Y/n?” breaks your train of thought causing you to freeze instantaneously. Statued by the sink, wondering if she remembers what she was just moaning over. You were sure to never forget it. 

“I’m in the bathroom…I’ll be out in a second.”

Hearing her stretch from the other room, you quickly change into your bathing suit, a simple black 2 piece, and walk back into the bedroom.

Sana was still half asleep until she saw you in that swimsuit in front of her, you had been working out and it was showing. Abs toned, arms on the more muscular side; she silently swooned seeing you in this light. 

  “Do you still want to go to the beach today?” sitting on the bed next to her trying to address her directly but she won’t look you in the eyes. 

“Yeah, I guess. Let me change.” calmly leaving her mouth as she gets up and walks out of the room silently and completely shutting you out of whatever she was feeling. 

Now perplexed at what was happening, you stare at the door she just left through in complete disbelief. She was always so cheery in the morning and to see her not shining, caused a little bit of worry in you. 

Following her out into the living room, only for her to shut the door behind her. A sigh ringing through the air after the door closes, you try to brush it off by going to put together your beach bag. Silently gathering towels for the two of you, bringing a few water bottles and snacks and wishfully hoping you’d be able to help her get out of her head today. 

–

The calmness of the waves washes over the shore, creating a relaxing white noise as you and Sana lay in the lounge chairs, enjoying the stillness of the environment and being able to relax in peace.

Margaritas were the drink of choice today, it was 11am and you were already on your third one. Sana just kept ordering them for the both of you and you were on vacation. Who’s to say you can’t let a little lose and get a little drunk with your best friend?

Sana’s demeanor was still off, but she had more of a bounce in her step after an hour or two. The margaritas slowly revived her affectionate personality that she hid away that morning. 

Back to smacking your arm playfully and smiling back at you with everything you said when she suddenly stands and runs right to the ocean, waves putting up a weak fight pulling her in as she turns around and eggs you on in joining her.

“Come on! The water’s not that cold!” Yelled at you from feet away as you made your way to her. She was a liar, the water was freezing cold on your legs as you scooched closer to her in the water finally making it to the waist deep water Sana was at. 

“So c-cold!” escapes your lips as you try to get used to the frigid waters coating your body when a splash causes a loud gasp to leave your mouth followed by a small giggle from Sana. 

Gawking at her while she laughs at your reaction, you jump over to her and grab her by the waist, playfully wrestling with her in the water. Being sure to handle her with care as you tangle, she drapes her arms around your neck, clinging to you tightly. Her legs soon follow, wrapping themselves around your torso so she’s flush against you, slyly smirking centimeters from your face. 

“Awh, have I made you upset?” oozing seductively from her lips as she slides her arms down your back to toy with the knot holding your top to your chest. 

“You wouldn’t.” challenging the threat she was intimidating you with, drunkenly. 

“Oh but I would.” squinting her eyes at you while she tugged lightly allowing the knot to loosen slightly.

Unmoving as you let her pull the strings, her face so close you can see the mischievous glint in her eyes and smirk elongating as she leans into you further, connecting your lips as one of her hands shimmies up to the back of your neck, continuing to lay soft sweet kisses on your face, making her way to your neck for a light bite. Attempting to repress all the noises your lungs wish to release as your legs clench together. 

“You like this, don’t you? I bet you’ve thought about this before, hm?” whispered into your ear as she felt you tensing underneath her. Teeth tug on your lobes lightly as the question burns in your ears like a form of torture, snapping you back to the reality you were in. 

Sana was drunk, heartbroken, and leaning into you for validation…that’s the only way this could actually be happening right?

“Sana...we can’t do this.” hesitantly stated as she cups your face lovingly, you can’t help but rest your head there affectionately. 

“But…why not?” woefully questioned as she rests her chin on your shoulder, re-tying the knot to secure the top covering you, immediately respecting what you were saying and not crossing the boundary. 

“Because we’ve both had too much to drink and I don’t want it to happen thi-…” unaware of a larger wave coming to crash down on you mid sentence, completely drenching both of you from head to toe. 

Chuckling out of surprise, you look over to find the scowl Sana seared into her visage. Her eyes are bright red, breath stuttering as she sniffles.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” scanning the visible parts of her body for any hint as to why she would be so upset.

“I’m fine, y/n. A lot of salt water in my eyes and I'm just ready to go.” getting out of the water and making her way over to where you had set yourselves up for the morning. 

“You want to leave so quickly?” completely confused by her as she gathered everything silently. Making the choice to let her stew in whatever she was feeling, unsure of how to proceed with this but wanting to improve the sudden change in mood, wrapping yourself in your towel and following her back to the hotel. 

–

It was barely 1pm by the time you got back to the room, surprised that she only wanted to spend a few hours in the sun. Asking her multiple times if she was okay on the way back but she only gave one worded replies that didn’t give you any context to why she was turning within herself and away from you.

Setting all her stuff down by the door before walking straight into her room, not closing the door behind her, taking that as an invitation, you followed her like a lost puppy to the threshold. Sana turns around and halfway glares at you as she starts to try to untie the knot at the base of her neck.

“Can I help you, Y/n?” with a tone that harshly fragmented your heart. Never having spoken to you this way, you were taken aback completely, wondering if the alcohol had something to do with the overwhelming sense of unwelcomeness that creeped into the space, darkening the overall mood and instigating fight, flight or freeze within you.

“Oh…” mournfully uttered as you stepped out of the room that was clouded by whatever seeped from Sana’s consciousness, what could you have done to generate such an irritated response from her? Swiftly marching to the room you both spent the night in, footsteps can be heard swiftly trying to catch up to you.

“Y/n, wait!” as you close and lock the door behind you.

Immediately stripping out of the swimsuit when you heard the door rattle slightly, as the person on the other side of it rested their forehead against it. Hearing the sniffles produced from Sana as you force yourself to not offer comfort to the woman who had just snapped at you for a reason you weren’t aware of. 

–

The clock reads 9:53pm as you lay in the conversation pit under the skylight. Last night might’ve been stormy but tonight was perfect for stargazing and that’s exactly what you planned to do, with or without your best friend.

Laying by yourself and staring straight into the sky, admiring the randomness that was the star's patterns, connecting dots as you see the constellations play out in front of you. God, this sucks alone. Missing Sana at every passing moment.

Was she just drunk earlier or were her actions real? Sana had always flirted with you in her intoxicated states but it had never felt as intense as the moment in the water today. Remembering the taste of her sweet lips in the salty air, you craved them constantly, but was it romantic or was it just a drunken moment she was having? 

She did just go through a breakup and the alcohol wasn’t exactly something that made emotions easier to deal with. Maybe she was trying to seek comfort in you, as messed up as that is to say. Maybe she knew you cared for her romantically and she wanted to push the limits and see how much you really wanted her?

The rattling of the metal staircase pulls you out of the toxic trance you were in, not bothering to look up as you picked a star to fixate on instead of looking at Sana who was standing in the doorway.

“May I come in?” a delicate smile can be heard in her words as she asked where your boundary was. That was more like her. Instead of a verbal response, you simply patted the cushioning next to you without looking at her, summoning her over to you. 

Gracefully sauntering over and laying down next to you, she let out a long sigh almost relaxing into the atmosphere as she looked over at your face. You could feel her eyes burning a hole into your cheeks but refused to look away from the skylight. 

Her hand finds its way to your stomach as she lays on her side, snuggling you with her head on your shoulder. Your heart picks up again, even with not wanting to have the conversation that needed to be had, she still made you feel like pure bliss. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you…I just thought-” cutting herself off, swallowing nervously as she starts to quietly weep into your neck.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you try to hold in the emotions that seemed to be brimming out of both of you rapidly. Your fingers lightly trace her back as her quiet sobs drip from your skin.

“Sana, it’s okay. We weren’t sober, I know you didn-” 

“I just thought you felt the same way.” slicing through the air like a knife, chopping your sentence in half. 

Heart pulsing in your ears as you grow red, feeling your heart pumping forcefully as you try to wrap your mind around what she just uttered. You’re completely immobile as you remember all the small moments that could be seen as romantic. Candle lit dinners, the days spent on the couch, the physical touch that was constant between the two of you…has she always liked you this way? Or were you misunderstanding what she was saying?

“What do you mean by that, Sana?” carefully asking the question that charred the tip of your tongue, leaving the build up of fiery love inside of you, knowing this would alter the state of your friendship forever and possibly change the trajectory of your life. 

Sitting up promptly, to ensure you can hear and see her completely, pulling you up with her.

“Y/n” a sigh breaks the sentence as she braces for what’s to come “…I love you.” 

Patiently waiting for the realization of what she’s saying to roll over your face, she continues. 

“I tried dating other people to get over you because I was worried that if I told you, you wouldn’t feel the same way and it would come between us or that it would end badly. And everyone I dated was nothing compared to you, and just made me want to be with you more…you treat me so well that it puts everyone else to shame,” looking down at the floor and toying with a string sticking out of the cushions that covered the floor. 

“And when we were at the beach, I saw the way you looked at me and the alcohol encouraged me to make a move, and you know I never do that but…I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I swear. I misread the signs I thought you were giving me and -sniff-” continuing on to try to over explain her actions but you were in a complete state of euphoria.

Floating on cloud nine as Sana makes her plea for you to stick around, you reach out around her waist and hoist her into your lap, one leg on either side of your waist. 

Hand raising up to cup her surprised face as you lean into her without a second thought, lips passionately connecting as you show her what you always wanted to say out loud. 

Passionately tangled in a heated make out session, you remove her shirt quickly and trail light kisses down her exposed neck to her collarbone, her hand clenching your hair as she whimpers softly under your curious touch. 

“Y/n, I need you” breathed into your mouth as you effortlessly shift positions so you are on top of her, removing your shirt hastily not wanting the fabric to be between the touch of you and her velour skin. 

Grasping at your pants, trying to remove them quickly she nervously fidgets with the button and you let her panic for a second, enjoying the neediness radiating from her brow, as her half lidded eyes fill with frustration. 

Giggling as you look down at her, she halfway glares at you with a smile. Playfulness of your friendship seeps into the moment and you both welcome it in a moment of unseriousness. 

Reaching down and undoing the button of your pants and hers quickly while smirking at her boldly, she rolls her eyes at the move and unzips your pants, sliding her outstretched hand into your underwear and through your wetness. 

“I can’t wait to taste you” sultry tone ringing in your ears as you allow yourself to succumb to Sana in a way you only dreamed about. 

Reaching up behind you to unclip your bra sneakily before she rolled you over so you were on your back, fingers still circling your clit through the movement, causing a few slight gasps and light moans out of you. 

She removes her hand and discards your pants and panties to leave you completely naked. Squirming underneath her as you watch her remove the rest of her clothing, anticipation high as she kisses down your neck leaving small bites and a trail of marks down your chest. 

Taking her time descending your body and learning every place her touch will drive you mad, she hovers over your pussy and smiles up at you. 

“You know once we do this…there’s no going back, right?” waiting for permission from you to continue on. Even with how eager she was, she wanted to make sure that you knew this was an act of you committing to each other.

“Sana, please…” breathed into the night as your hands covered your face, the want palpable in the air as you tried to scoot closer to her mouth.

“Please what?” tracing her fingers between your hip bones and down your hips to your inner thighs.

The whine you release is guttural,  full of the desire that’s been burning for her for what felt like centuries. Moving your hands from your face, through her hair gripping it heavily as you moan the words she’s been waiting to hear. 

“Sana, please fuck me, I need you.” sighing heavily as she kisses your inner thigh while you beg for her to touch you.

“Good girl” mumbled into your thigh as she parts your lips and finally tastes your slick. Leaving nothing for imagination as she explores your folds. 

Her hands reach up to play with your hardened buds as she devours you. Latching onto your clit and circling it lightly with her tongue, moaning into your core as she sucks. 

Writhing underneath her while she feasts on your desire, directing her head where you want it by her hair as you groan her name senselessly. 

Bliss dripping off you, as you fixate on what she looks like between your legs. The eye contact has you spiraling into a void of pure lust as you start to buck your hips into her mouth, slowly grinding against her lips. 

Feeling her smile into you as finger dancing on the edge of your entrance, seeking permission to fill you the way you always dreamed she would. Not allowing her to thrust into you, but instead you force your hips down into to fuck yourself on her fingers while you still have enough thoughts in your head to do so.

Half laughing at you while you continue to buck your hips into her, moaning uncontrollably as you feel your stomach tighten. 

“You must have been dreaming of this for years…I never knew you wanted this so badly, baby. I’ll show you how it’s supposed to feel” taunting you between the damp sounds coming from your core.

Curling her fingers through your wetness to hit your g-spot perfectly as she lets you control the pace and tempo at which her fingers press it, mouth not letting go of your clit as you fuck yourself against her. 

“I’m -fuck right there- gonna cum.” shakily exhaled between grunts as groans as she starts to pump her fingers inside of you, hips faltering as she does, relentlessly sucking and swirling her tongue on your swollen pussy as you gush into her mouth, screaming her name. 

A light sheen of sweat coating your skin as she lets you ride out your orgasm on her fingers before pulling them out of you slowly, leaving you gasping for more. Making eye contact with you as she licks her digits clean, smiling in almost a predatory way as she comes up to kiss you passionately. 

Tasting yourself on her caused your hips to start rutting against her again, grinding on the memory of her between your legs as you try to maneuver your hands between hers when she swats it away. 

“I’ve waited too long for this, for you…and I’m not finished, my love.” sinking her teeth into your neck roughly before finding herself back where she was about to force another orgasm out of you. 

This was going to be a long night, only hoping for more passionate nights under the stars with your love, Minatozaki Sana.

#sana x reader #minatozaki sana #sana twice #twice imagines #kpop x reader #twice x reader #wlw #twice fic #sana #twice sana #sana x you

[billthedrake]

This is a story I wrote years ago and always thought I’d develop into something much longer. I never did, so just decided to post it as is, in two parts.

THE AD AND SON (PART ONE)

Brian Casey stirred awake. It was a week before daylight savings time and the daylight peeked in through the crack in the bedroom drapes before 6:30 now. A year earlier, Brian would never wake up that early, and if it hadn't been for Calc I his freshman year, he'd have had no reason to get up before 9.

But now it was his routine. Though he didn't like that word. Routine implied something drab and dull, but this was anything but.

The sophomore stretched out in the covers. He could still feel the warm on the other side of the queen bed, and smell the scent of his father on the sheets and pillow. This morning Brian rolled over and took in a hit of that scent. If he wasn't already erect, that trace of his dad, half cologne, half just the scent of a full-blooded man, would make him hard as fuck. But at 19, a month shy of 20, he never failed to have morning wood. He could fuck all night or have a multiple stroke-off session and still wake up hard as iron.

Like this morning. He took one look at the clock. 6:45. "Damn," he said aloud, to no one, in his morning voice. A voice which was deeper now that he was in college. A man's voice.

He pushed the covers off, exposing his toned body and teen boner to the cool air. A year and a half of college had done wonders for Brian's body. Crew in the fall and spring, weight training in the off season. His father, an ex-jock himself, had given him good genes and Brian had run with them.

He padded down the hall and found his father where he expected him, in the kitchen/open living area of the modest 2-bedroom house, drinking his coffee and reading the paper. He was dressed in his customary conservative suit and tie. The man looked up when he noticed Brian's presence.

"Morning, son," Dan Casey greeted with a grin. He set down the coffee mug and folded the paper, laying it on the counter. He took a second to admire his flesh and blood. An inch taller than Dan and beautifully proportioned, but still definitely with that collegiate youth that made Dan wonder what he saw in his old man. "Fuck," he whispered in appreciation.

"You got time to give me head?" Brian asked, in a deep soft voice. This part had taken a while to come, the confidence to speak freely about it, and to order his dad around sexually. Now it was his favorite part. Well, almost.

"Oh yeah," Dan replied and unbuttoned his dress shirt, unloosening his tie a little. Then he crouched down right there in the kitchen and ran his hands up his son's legs, leaning forward to lick, then swallow the erect cock.

"Oh Dad," Brian hissed, pushing his hips forward slightly to guide his dick into the father's welcoming mouth. His dad was good at this, so good, and scarcely a day went by when Dan didn't service the young stud. Brian bit his lip and held off his initial impulse to cum quickly. There were times when Dan took advantage of his son's eagerness and excitement to milk the cum out in a few sucks, but if Brian could get over that initial sensation then his hair trigger abated and he could enjoy the amazing incestuous blow job.

Thinking back, he wondered why he'd been resistant. Not of his father or the taboo of their sexual connection. That came impulsively, almost naturally, a few years back. But both Casey men had tried to compartmentalize it. It helped that the divorced father lived in a different state, with a new assistant athletic director job at a Division I university. Sex was something for special occasions, when Brian came to visit on a long weekend, or over the summer.

Now, Brian was at the same university - the free tuition made it a no-brainer - and for their first year they'd set down ground rules. Sex only once a month, and while Dan expected Brian would be around to meet up for dinners and some father-son time, he also expected his freshman son to live his own life and to enjoy college. Meet new friends. Date.

That plan lasted until February, when father and son found themselves having sex much more frequently. And finally, Dan got the nerve up to ask if Brian wanted to live with him the next year. "I have a spare bedroom sitting empty," he added, but his son was cutting off his words, meeting him in a kiss. Their first. And it led to a heated session in Dan's bed where Brian lost his cherry.

Turns out the guest bedroom would remain unused.

Brian looked down now. His dad, who at 46, was hot as fuck. Built from his lacrosse days and carrying the demeanor of a lax coach, he was also more distinguished now in his new job.

"God you like my dick, Dad, don't ya?" the stud asked, and Dan moaned his agreement around the thick Casey cock filling his mouth and throat. Dan sometimes thought his boy was better hung than he was, but it was a close call.

"I can tell. You suck me off every morning. And I never get sick of it either. It's what I look forward to when I wake up. My father going down on me, making me feel like a man."

Dan spit out Brian's prick and grunted. "You are a man, son. I love sucking your babies down." With that he swallowed his offspring's meat and started working it with his mouth at a furious pace that triggered Brian's nut.

"Aw Dad, aw FUCK!!" he growled as he held on to the suit-covered shoulders and spurted his semen into Dan's hungry mouth. "Take my fucking cum, sir. Oh Fuck!" He came down from the intense orgasm as his father licked the dribbles softly before backing away.

Dan stood up and met his son in a soft kiss, sharing the taste of the Casey semen. "Fuck, that's hot," he finally said with a grin, gripping the erection in his suit to rearrange it into a more comfortable position. It was by now established that Dan liked to wait until the evening to get his release, whereas Brian had the stamina to get off three, four times a day.

"I'll say," Brian said, stepping back to take in just how handsome his dad was. "Gets hotter each time."

"I think you cum more, too," Dan said. Like Brian he now basked in the ability to talk so openly with his son, even after the heat of sex.

He picked up his phone and took a look at the time. "I gotta be off in a few." He took a sip from his coffee. It had gone cool, but the morning sex with his boy was worth it. "Listen... what do you have going on next week?"

Next week was spring break. The previous year, Brian had gone to the Caribbean with some buddies, but he had nothing planned this year. "Just laying low I guess."

"I hope you didn't decide to forgo a trip on my account..." Dan started, but his son interrupted.

"Dad, come on," Brian said with exasperation. "I just didn't feel like going anywhere this year. Jeez."

Dan gave Bri a serious "Dad" look to communicate that he understood. "Well, we can stay here if you like, but I was thinking... it might be cool to go up to the mountain for the week. I could use a little vacation, and this week is generally quiet at work." This was a big difference between the two men. Dan loved the mountains, even in the cold weather, whereas his son was more a warm beach kind of guy. One of the first things he did when starting the job was buy that second home an hour and a half from the college town where he lived.

"Sounds awesome, Dad," Brian replied. "Any chance we're gonna fuck like bunnies up there?" He asked with a smirk.

Dan laughed, picking up his phone and putting in his suit pocket. He really had to get to work. "I have a feeling we'd be fucking like bunnies even if we stayed here. But I like the idea of us Casey men getting plenty of alone time and letting loose a little." Dan's guilt had now receded, but this was the one thing left that bugged him about the relationship with Brian. That he couldn't be open and that the two had to be extra guarded all the time.

"In that case, it's a date. You and me in the fucking cold all next week," Brian wisecracked with a smile. He stepped forward and met his father in a soft kiss. "All right, you're going to be late, Dad. Have a good day."

"You too, Brian. Love you, kiddo."

"Love you, too, sir."

****

Brian and Dan unloaded the car. Dan had taken the Friday off and they'd left town early. A day earlier a snowstorm had dumped a good amount across the state and Dan offered to forgo the plan, but Brian was having none of it.

"Come on, Dad," he said, massaging his father's knotted traps through the man's T-shirt. "You like the snow... it'll be fun."

"I guess I have the 4 wheel drive and winter tires for a reason," the man smiled. He'd owe Brian a proper beach trip this summer.

It had turned out to be a sunny day when they went up, warmer than the previous, though at elevation the air still felt brisk and damp.

Dan's mountain place was something between a house and a cabin. A smaller A-frame structure next to a lake, it had a simple exterior but with all the amenities inside, including a big screen TV and extra fridge. Brian stocked it with the two cases of beer they'd brought. He was happy his father had picked up some craft beer instead of the domestic lager he typically went for. "Expecting a party, Dad?" he teased.

Dan was unpacking several grocery bags worth of food. Steak, chicken, bacon, milk, eggs, sides... and enough ingredients to cook for the week. "Just don't feel like running out. The next town's a half hour away, and the roads might get snowy." The forecase was calling for rain back home this week, but that meant snow up here.

When Dan was done, he took their duffel bags to the bedroom, reflecting on how it seemed such a major step the first night Brian had slept in his bed. His heart beat excitedly and yeah, his dick hung heavier in his jeans. "Easy Danny boy," he thought to himself, "you're getting ahead of yourself."

He was in a lusty state of mind when he rejoined Brian in the living room and the sight of his son didn't help. The boy had taken off his puffy coat and stood at the plate glass window wearing his long-sleeve crew-logo shirt and a pair of faded jeans. All of Brian was beautiful but the backside was the best, Dan decided. The broad shoulders, the sculpted powerful back muscle, and the round ass. He stepped up and placed his hands affectionately on his son's shoulders.

"I bet you'd prefer it up here in the summer," Dan said about the lake they could see straight ahead.

"It's beautiful now," Brian replied, looking back at his father. Seeing his dad's odd expression, he said, "What?"

"Where's the sullen teenager that's my son?" Dan smirked. It was true. A couple of years earlier, Brian would have been grumpy the whole trip.

Now the college jock laughed. "All grown up, Dad." With that he turned his head and met Dan in a kiss. Not soft, but not hard. Dan knew his boy definitely had sex on his mind, too.

Their tongues battled and swatted against one another as they embraced. Already, Brian's fingers were tracing beneath the hem of his father's shirt, feeling the warm flesh and hard muscle beneath. "No one around but us this week, Dad," he grunted softly and started kissing along the length of his father's strong neck, up to the man's ear.

The young jock was right. With no ski resort near, this was more of a summer vacation area.

"God yeah," Dan moaned. He hadn't been sure Brian would go for this, but the fact that his son was on the same wavelength as him excited the hell out of him.

"No one to bother us," the teen continued. "We get to fuck... and make out... and hang out... and do it all again."

"Oh Bri," Dan gasped, starting to hump his son's crotch while his hands went to cup the stud's perfect ass.

Brian smirked at the positive reaction of his words. He'd normally feel like a doofus spouting such sex talk, but the way his dad responded egged him on. "I wanna fucking feel and kiss and lick every inch of my father's body. Get to know you, sir. And you know me. Like it was our first time."

"I want that, too," Dan growled. "Want to learn where my son's magic spots are." He pulled back and stripped off his shirt, almost giggling as his son matched the action, baring a chest that was starting to get a dusting of light brown hair, a shade darker than Dan's own, which was somewhere between dirty blond and light brown.

Brian reached down and started undoing his jeans and now father was the one copying son. "I think you know my magic spot, Dad," Brian said with a straight face. "About five inches up my ass. You get your cock up there and I go wild."

Their lips crashed together in a kiss that was definitely hard and excited. Their jeans and briefs came down and their bare cocks pressed against one another, communicating their mutual need and lust.

"You gonna fuck me Dad?" Brian huffed. It had been a week since his father had screwed him. That used to be plenty for the collegiate stud, but lately he'd been craving it more.

"Let's go to the bedroom," Dan hissed.

Brian's grip stopped him. "No. Dad, let's fuck in here. I want to do it in every room of this cabin. On every piece of furniture."

God, his son was definitely taking the initiative in keep their sex life fresh, Dan thought. He smiled and nodded, very into what Brian was suggesting. He went to fetch some lube and when he came back Brian was naked and bending over to lean on the coffee table. "Fuck me with the curtains wide open, Dad. No one can see us."

"Oh fuck," Dan whispered as he lubed up and got into position, taking in the sight of those smooth creamy white buns with just a dusting of fur deep in the crack. "Ungh!" he grunted as he pushed in. Brian was tight but relaxed enough to take him. His son rarely opened up like this but he was now. Dan paused a second deep inside then started fucking.

Any concern he had about the pace or whether his son could take the deep strokes went away as Brian urged him on verbally and bucked his jock ass back against his father's thrusting hips. "Fuck yeah, Dad. You're hitting my spot all right. So fucking good..."

"Yeah?" Dan thought maybe Brian was building up his ego. Maybe that's what it was but it was working. Dan fucked harder.

"Hell yeah. I had a couple of guys fuck me but they couldn't make it feel like you do. My own dad's dick... fuck!"

Dan had guessed his son might have other experiences, but they somehow had never talked about it. Part of him was jealous but part of him was turned on, too. That he measured up as a top.

He leaned forward and wrapped his strong arms around his son's muscular lithe body, humping wildly in tandem with his son's bucking. It felt even better this way... the angle and the extra body contact. "We're like animals going at it," Dan said aloud.

It felt great for Brian, too, and he relished the strength of his father's grip, and the furry forearms and heat and firmness of the man's chest against his back. "You bring that out in me, Dad. Bone me deep, sir!"

Dan worried he wouldn't last long, not like this, but he was too excited to slow his thrusts. "I'm doing it kiddo... so deep in my boy."

"That where you're going shoot your seed? Way deep up your son's guts?"

Dan didn't answer but just growled and fucked wildly to his orgasm. Brian was coming in sync, too, spraying globs of semen on the coffee table as his whole body flushed red from sexual overload.

"Oh Jesus," Dan hissed as his body relaxed against his son's back. He didn't want to pull out, not just yet, so he stay put and softly caressed Brian's body. "That was one hell of a way to start the week."

Brian finally leaned up and stepped free of his dad's embrace. "I have a feeling it's only going to get hotter," he said. He reached down and cupped his father's sticky-wet genitals. "Damn, my dad's a stud."

Dan blushed at the compliment. "Sometimes I think you're just saying stuff like that," he admitted.

Brian kissed him, then pulled him over to the couch, where they sat down. Thoughtfully he stroked his father's hairy chest, powerful and bulging. "I don't know what I have to do to show you I'm serious," he said.

"Come on, kiddo. I don't mean it like that. It's just that, well, I'm middle aged and fucking around with the hottest dude on campus."

"I think you may be a little biased, there, Dad," Brian smiled. His hand traced down to play with his dad's cock, which was soft but thick and heavy.

Dan sighed and relished the playfulness and sensations in his dick. "That's nice," he purred.

"Yeah?" Brian asked, then knelt down and started sucking on his dad's penis. It wasn't a blowjob exactly given Dan's relaxed state but it was a soft pleasurable worshipping.

After a few minutes he rejoined his dad on the couch. "You know, I thought I might have said the wrong thing earlier," Brian ventured.

"About what?"

"About the other guys who fucked me."

"You're an adult," Dan said, matter of factly. "You don't have to answer for that."

Brian nodded, like he was expecting this response. "Yeah, I know. I just... well, we've never talked about stuff like that."

Dan could tell from his son's tone of voice that he wanted to talk about this. "And you want to, I take it?"

"Yes, sir. Unless you don't want to," he added.

Dan shifted and placed his arm around Brian's shoulders. "I'm good. What's on your mind, kiddo?"

Brian took a breath before starting. "I figure one of us will be dating sometime. Maybe soon."

Indeed this was the conversation Dan had been fearing. Their connection, physical and otherwise, had been so intense and impetuous, it seemed to thrive by denying any other real world considerations. Deep down, Dan wasn't sure it would survive.

"I think you should have your life. I always have." Dan said, thoughtfully. He meant it, or at least convinced himself that he meant it.

"Even if I date someone, I don't see not wanting you, too, Dad," Brian admitted. "God, am I shitty person?"

Dan's stoic facade melted a little and he met Brian in a kiss. No doubt their stubble would give some major whisker burn by the week's end. "Hardly, Bri. You're honest with yourself, that's all."

"You thinking of dating anyone, Dad?"

"Can I be honest?" Dan asked.

"Yes, please." Brian looked at him expectantly. Wanting the truth, Dan could tell.

"If we continue this, I don't see wanting to date anyone, son." He felt himself blush with the admission. But he was heartened by the big smile that broke out on Brian's face.

"I shouldn't be happy to hear you say that," Brian replied.

"Yeah?" He shifted a little to face his son more directly.

"Oh yeah. I mean, I'd never get in the way of your happiness, Dad. You know that... But I've been afraid you'd meet someone and cool things off between us."

"I wish I had the will power to cool things off, son..." Dan added thoughtfully. "I don't know," he said with a blush, "It's just an incredible rush to go down on you. Or to fuck you. I know sex isn't going to be that intense with anyone else."

Brian nodded. He understood. "I'm glad we're talking like this Dad. I want to get to know you this week."

"You do know me," Dan chuckled.

"Not completely," Brian countered with a serious expression. "You have this guard up, Dad. Maybe I do too. Like you're afraid you're not going to be my dad if we're close like this."

"Maybe," Dan said in non committal tone. What Brian was saying was heavy in its implications, and he'd have to think about this a lot more.

"In the meantime," Brian smirked. "I was serious about exploring every inch of your body. Lay back," he instructed and started feeling along his father's calves and up the legs.

Unbelievably, not even a half hour after his amazing orgasm, Dan's prick was hardening up again.

****

After a few hours, their sex fever had died down. Dan had held off on a second release but had sucked Brian to completion just before sunset.

As Dan raised his head from Brian's crotch, the taste of his son's sperm fresh in his mouth, his boy had a look of complete satisfaction and relaxation on his face, his young body covered in a sheen of sweet and his hair matted down. "Don't take this the wrong way, Dad, but you've got to be the best cocksucker on the planet. Fuck..."

Dan gave Brian a mock punch to the shoulder as he got up to fetch their first beers of the evening. As he sat back next to his boy, he admitted, "Just glad I can make you happy, kiddo. Want to keep you coming back for more."

Brian got a kick out of seeing his father walk around nude and with a hardon jutting from the light brown fur of his crotch. He didn't know how his father could hold off cumming like he did. He'd definitely have blue balls. "If that's the plan, it's working," Brian said. "You know, I used to count them."

Dan gave a quizzical look.

"Orgasms," Brian clarified. "I kept track of how many times you sucked me off. I lost track at two hundred."

"Two hundred?" Dan asked with surprise.

"Oh it's a lot more now," Brian assured him. "I just stopped counting."

Dan leaned back and reflected. The number made sense, given that blowing his son had become a regular occurrence. He was a little ashamed by it, but a little proud, too.

"Well, here's to two hundred more, kiddo," Dan toasted by clinking his bottle. "Think that one will hold you til bedtime you horndog?"

"Yessir."

It did, too. They made dinner and then watched some TV. Dan had a couple of beers and was feeling relaxed. Brian was, too, he could tell, and when they finally decided to go to bed, neither man was very horny.

"Tired?" Dan asked as his son's nude body snuggled up to his under the covers. Maybe it was the cool air of the cabin, but the man relished the warmth radiating from Brian. His hand traveled up and down the young man's strong back.

"A little," Brian said. He gave his dad a kiss. Dan returned it with a finesse that thrilled Brian. His dad was a good kisser. A great kisser. And he seemed to get better, if that was possible.

"So..." Dan started when they finally broke their kiss, "You want to know more about your old man, huh?"

Brian nodded.

"Well, ask me anything, kiddo."

Brian got an excited look on his face. "Well, I guess... I'm curious who was your first?"

"My first what?" Dan asked for clarification.

"First time having sex. Whatever counts as sex for you."

"My teammate Keith," Dan answered, surprised how easily and directly came to him. "We'd fooled around, you know, JO sessions, then mutual. Finally we swapped blow jobs, and I thought that was the most incredible thing."

Brian laughed. "They are. So, your first was a guy?"

Dan nodded. "Wasn't till senior prom before I lost my virginity to a girl." The father got an amused look on his face. "You know, normally I never would have talked about this with you. Never felt right to talk about life before your mother."

"I'm glad you are, Dad."

"What about you, kiddo? Your first time?"

"I had an earlier start, at least with women." he winked. "Susan Peterson my sophomore year. You were my first time with a guy."

"No regrets, kiddo?" Dan asked nervously. He still had some lingering guilt that he was corrupting Brian. He'd known he was the first inside Brian's ass, but he wasn't sure about oral.

"What do you think, Dad?" Brian answered in an annoyed tone as he gripped his dad's hand and guided it to his bone. The teenager wasn't as rock hard as he often got but he had a solid erection, which is father gratefully explored.

"I think I'm a lucky man," Dan growled playfully. "You still interested in women?"

Brian shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes. Maybe 10 percent lean that way. Mostly dudes do it for me." He reached up and ran his hand through his father's soft hair, which was cut a professional medium-short length. It was a surprisingly simple and affectionate gesture. "What about you, Dad?"

"More like 30 percent for me. Used to be more, but as I get older, I like sex with men more. It's a little rougher, a little more intense you know. Besides, I love sucking a man off."

"I noticed, sir," Brian winked.

They kissed again, more passionately. Dan could feel his son more erect now as they made out. Slowly he kissed his way down his son's toned body, not rushing but not taking his time either.

"Hell, yeah, Dad," Brian hissed as he realized where his father was going. "Suck my cock, sir."

Dan held Brian's hard thick tool and laved it with his tongue. The boy was definitely hard and ready now. He took another minute to explore that Casey dick before popping it into his mouth and starting his bobbing action.

Brian didn't thrust his hips like he was sometimes tempted to, but he wasn't in a passive mood. His hands firmly gripped his dad's head and guided him urgently up and down his bone.

"Oh fuck, sir, you're gonna get me there pretty quick tonight. Sorry, Dad, can't hold off any longer. Suck my fucking cock. That's it. Gonna come down your throat, Dad. UNGH!"

Dan gladly swallowed his son's somewhat salty seed, which pulsed in several heavy spurts.

Excitedly he leaned up and started stroking wildly. He didn't even need lube he was so turned on. A few tugs and his fatherly jizz sprayed from his cock, all over Brian's torso.

"Jeez, buddy," he gasped then leaned down to meet Brian in a kiss. Dan's seed clicked the connection of their bodies as they embraced and made out.

"Perfect end to a perfect day, kiddo," Dan finally said.

"I'll say," Brian sighed, rolling onto his back. He recovered from his orgasm as his father got up to piss and wash off. When Dan came back, Brian took his turn in the bathroom.

His father looked sleepy when he came back to bed.

"Ready for bed, Dad?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I got a horny son who's worn me out."

"Better get used to it, Dad," Brian laughed, his voice starting to show signs of being tired, too. "We got seven more days here. And my sex drive's probably not going down."

"That's a safe bet, kiddo."

They kissed and turned out the light. Up in the mountains there were no street lights and given the cloudy night there was no moonlight either. The room was pitch dark.

"Dad..." Brian said at last.

"Yeah, Bri?"

"Thanks for bringing me up here."

His father muttered a soft, nearly inaudible reply. Pretty soon, the Casey men were both asleep.

#drakestories

[emilystheories]

Breaking SJM news: a completely new series is (likely) on the way !!

Last night, I came across a veryyyy interesting YouTube video posted by Bloomsbury 4 weeks ago. Although the video was mostly super boring (talking numbers and finances), towards the end, we get this little nugget of information...

[Bloomsbury staff member]: "Regarding the timeline and future Sarah J Maas book releases, which are obviously very important to us... so her next title, which is the third in her Crescent City series, comes out on the 30th of January, 2024. So, that will fall into this financial year."

[Bloomsbury staff member]: "And thereafter, we have SIX further contracted titles -- so continuing this series, and STARTING A NEW SERIES AS WELL."

A new series! This likely goes hand-in-hand with the announcement made by Bloomsbury a couple of months prior, in which they stated that 4 additional SJM books were on the way (but curiously, no further details about these books were given...)

Although we don't know for sure, this is my guess as to what these 6 future SJM books are:

2 x ACOTAR books.

Then the 4 remaining, newly contracted books; the first being the final Crescent City book, House of Many Waters.

Leaving 3 x books for the new series (which makes perfect sense, as when starting a new series, SJM is always contracted for 3 books initially).

The question remains as to what exactly this new series may be. Which leads me to... Twilight of the Gods.

[SJM universe spoilers ahead!]

Back in 2015, SJM started a Pinterest board for 2 new book series that were connected in some way; one was Crescent City, and the other was called Twilight of the Gods. 

On her Twitter, SJM also mentioned that she had been working on both for quite a while, and that it was soon time to release them into the world.

Around the same time, a series called 'Twilight of the Gods' was mysteriously added to SJM's official Goodreads catalogue.

'Twilight of the Gods' is another term for Ragnarok; a famed tale of Norse mythology where the Gods and giants/demons across all worlds joined together to fight a giant battle that signified the end of the world.

Thus, I believe that 'Twilight of the Gods' is SJM's next series; it will be a Ragnarok retelling, and all of the characters from TOG, ACOTAR and CC will join together for a cataclysmic battle against the Asteri, the Daglan, and the Valg (because lets not forget that Orcus and Mantyx are still unaccounted for...).

With this in mind, consider the numerous references to Norse mythology that SJM has already scattered throughout her books:

Feyre as Freya: Freya was perhaps one of the most renowned Norse goddesses, and was Queen.

Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn as the Valkyries: An obvious one, but the Valkyries originated from, and had a huge part to play in Norse Mythology (Ragnarok especially).

Lucien as Loki: According to Norse mythology, Loki is often depicted with long, red hair. He is also seen as a God of fire, and is commonly associated with foxes.

Danika (Fendyr) and Fenrys as Fenrir: Fenrir was a renowned monstrous wolf of Norse mythology. Fenrir being 'unleashed' is one of the key events of Ragnarok.

Hunt as Thor ('Thurr'): During Ragnarok, Thor has a famous battle against the 'Midgard Serpent.' Consider the snake that Hunt is holding on the cover of HOSAB. 

Midgard: is the 'Earth' world in Norse mythology.

Hel (spelt the same way): Is the 'underworld' of Norse mythology.

Further, if you looked at SJM's "Twilight of the Gods" Pinterest board - before it was deleted - you'd see countless images of (Lady?) Thor, the Valkyries, Sailor Moon, and even the coffin that Maeve locked Aelin in... (that can't be a coincidence, right..?!) Some examples below:

'Twilight' is also another word for 'Dusk'; considering the lost Dusk Court, and 'Dusk's Truth' (both of which are the centre of the upcoming crossover and broader multiversal narrative...) it matches up perfectly.

Thus, I believe that the remaining ACOTAR and CC books will continue to add to the multiverse, bit by bit. And whilst they can still be read in a standalone fashion, my guess is that they will build up to a grand finale (perhaps the very last ACOTAR book will end with Aelin walking through a portal...?) and then Twilight of the Gods will begin.

If you thought Kingdom of Ash was epic... then Twilight of the Gods -- if correct -- is bound to blow us away (and, it might even put SJM's name in the history books).

#sjm multiverse #acotar #crescent city #sjm theory #sjm crossover #bryce quinlan #aelin galythinius #rhysand #feyre #gwyneth berdara #nesta archeron #elain archeron #azriel acotar #cassian acotar

[carakook]

Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

“Although his tone isn’t accusing, you know what he’s really asking: ‘who the fuck is that?’”

→ Chapters list ←

⚘5. The Change in Seasons

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: Six months later, Y/N is trying to cope and move on from ending things with Jungkook, and she feels she has come a long way… or maybe she’s just in denial.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 10k+

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of mild sleeping pill abuse (no overdosing, more so using sleeping pills when you’re sleeping just fine.), heavy grief, mentions of infidelity, mentions of awful coping mechanism, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, descriptions of nightmares, mentions of anxiety, mentions of mental health, metaphors involving religion (this story has no religious aspects just metaphors lol), let me know if I miss anything!

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: Bad news: chapter 5 ended up being 21k words long after I rewrote it and I could not fit it into one post. Good news: you get chapter 6 early for this reason! I’m sorry it has taken so long to get this out, and please forgive me for any grammar mistakes, but I really wanted both of these to go out asap and around the same time. Chaper 6 is being released sometime today, it’s finished, just needs to be formatted (I need to take a break for a bit lol.) Chapter 5 now consists of basically describing how coping with the aftermath of shit went for Y/N after everything was said and done, and how her life is going now. Chapter 6 is where it gets juicy, and you will see how Jungkook attempted to cope. I really hope you enjoy this, and I appreciate how lovely you’ve all been while waiting. Also forgive me for the lack of songs listed in each chapter… again I’m sort of just wanting to get these both out asap! Love you! 💜

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪Hate You - Jungkook

♪Space Song - Beach House

♪Jealous - Eyedress

♪Go With the Flow - Queens of the Stone Age

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Six months later.

"Y/N, I really do love you." "Suuure you do." "No, baby, I do, I always have. Wish you would stop questioning me like that." You shake your head at him, running your fingers through his hair as you do so. You know that he loves you, you stopped fighting it a while ago... but you still like to fuck with him. You like how he always is so damn persistent in letting you know that he fucking adores you. You cup his face as he remains hovered over you, both of you sweaty and smelling strongly of sex. You made love again, and it was just as beautiful as the first time. "I know, Koo, I know." You place the softest kiss on his lips, which causes his eyes to crinkle up adorably, his nose scrunching along with it. God, you really do love this man. Your flower. Your Bearded Iris. Your literal soulmate. Suddenly, you have cotton mouth, so you reach over to grab the bottle of water resting on the nightstand as he affectionately nuzzles into your bare breasts, the sheets pooling over the both of you like a satin dream. The dim lighting in your bedroom makes him glow, your golden boy. You could stare at him forever. Things are just so... peaceful. No anxious noises of the city, dark out, quiet inside other than the sounds of both of you breathing and speaking softly to each other. This is heaven, you think. Nothing gets better than this. Pure euphoria and bliss, except the bliss is no longer accompanied by guilt and the ugly green weeds made up of jealousy.

Comfortable and arm hues of red and orange fill the room thanks to the city lights filtering in and your arm bedroom lighting, much like the changing season outside. Autumn always was your favorite season, until you developed a taste for vibrant spring flowers. As you take a greedy sip of the water, you notice the potted plant on your nightstand... you don't know how you didn't notice it before. You lean up, causing him to whine and maneuver himself down, kissing your tummy sweetly. A bearded Iris, purple and white at full bloom resides in the plain white ceramic pot. You furrow your brows, reach over to touch the leafs of the flower. You can't recall how the hell it got here. "Woah... this is gorgeous, did you get it?" You question Jungkook as he continues peppering your body with kisses. "Mhm." That's it? Just 'mhm'? When did he get this? Why don't you remember it? One of your fingers grazes one of the bigger petals as the cogs in your brain start working way too hard. For some reason, the fact that you don't recall this beautiful flower really bothers you. "When? You didn't even say anything about it." He grunts at you, reaches up, grasps your wrist, and yanks it away from the flower. You flinch, because... What the fuck? "Don't touch it. Don't even look at it, Y/N. It isn't yours." His kisses turn into bites and he goes lower, once he reaches your pelvis he doesn't even warn you before he starts suckling on your clit. Something doesn't feel quite right. You put a hand in his hair, your confusion and anxiety is written all over your face. You yank his head up, and he glares at you, as if he isn't the one who just snapped at you over a damn flower. "Jungkook, what the fuck? What do you mean it isn't mine? What's your problem?" His eyes are blank as he stares at you, and his gaze slowly moves over to the flower. He clicks his tongue but stays in position as he speaks. "Look what you fucking did, I told you not to touch it." he nearly growls as he nods towards the flower. Zap. You look back at the flower, pulling the sheets up to your chest because you suddenly feel too vulnerable, out of place. Your blood runs cold when you see it. The petals start turning brown and dry, falling off of the stem of the flower. Wilting right in front of your eyes, quickly, as if your touch was fucking poison. It was so vibrant and pretty moments ago, and now it looks morbid. Zap. "Why the hell is it doing that?" "I told you not to touch, it isn't yours." Your gaze finds him again, you fight the urge to try and pick up the pieces of the pretty flower and try to siphon your light into it, to try and save it. None of what's happening makes sense. The lights in your apartment change from warm red and orange hues to dark and icy, blue and black like winter, and when your eyes find Jungkook and really look at him, you nearly gag.

Petals adorn his face, but he's cold. His honey skin is turning pale, and the petals are turning brown just like the Bearded Iris next to you. His face is still blank, not a single emotion behind his eyes. It looks like he's fucking dying, every time a petal falls off of his skin he gets paler and paler. What the fuck is happening? Zap, zap, zap. "Jungkook- I- what-" "If I loved you, wouldn't I still be here? I would've left her. I wouldn't have left you. You shouldn't have touched that flower, Y/N, it wasn't yours. Now look what you've done to me." You blink back tears because you don't understand what he means. You don't understand why he's being so cold suddenly... he doesn't look like him. He looks like a clone, maybe a shell, maybe even a fucking demon. You have no fucking idea what he's talking about. You reach up to swipe at your eyes, try to will the tears away because they are blurring your vision and making things too murky. When you do get clarity again, he's... gone. In between your legs, all that resides are brown leafs and petals, as if he was never here. You start frantically calling for him, grabbing at the sheets as if you may find him hiding underneath. Full on sobbing now, because he isn't here, and he just withered away right in front of you after saying such cruel things.

Zap, zap, zap, zap, zap.

You flinch awake, automatically start feeling around your empty sheets, trying to pick up those withered petals of the man you once loved so much… only to realize it was a dream. Another fucking nightmare.

Your very own personal hell created after you lost your flower.

To this day you get the zaps that you did the first day without him. And to this day it shakes you to your damn core.

After he left that last time, it was a mix of melancholy, relief, and a new kind of guilt. Relief because you no longer felt the guilt, it had been as if a weight was completely lifted off of your shoulders, rocks were taken away from your garden that sat on the soil and made your roots much too constricted to grow any more. But with the relief came a completely different kind of guilt.

Guilt that you felt relief at all, because if you love someone, why would you feel any relief at them being gone? You watched your flower be taken away by gardeners who didn’t know how to nourish him. That’s how it felt, anyway, when in reality he walked out on his own, respecting your wishes to end this. So feeling relief made you feel like scum at the same time. You loved this man and he loved you, he loved you so goddamn much. But he was weighing you down, and both of you became well aware that you would never flourish fully with the weight of him being married on your chest.

What you were doing was wrong. Ending it was right… right?

You grieved him heavily. It felt as if he died. As if even if you wanted to, you couldn’t reach out to him anymore. You couldn’t stare at his pretty petals colored in shades of you and him, you couldn’t touch them and water them and feed them. You couldn’t talk to him and hope your words fed him like food and encouragement to grow like you always did.

Although technically, you could. If you truly wanted to, you could have texted him or called him. Every night for the first two weeks, you would stay up and type long paragraphs to him declaring how much you regret ending it, how much you miss him, and how much you love him. Because you didn’t block his number at first. You couldn’t do it, it felt wrong. It felt like if you did that, you were severing the final tie that you would have to him. You didn’t have him on social media, so texting was really your only way of contact. Blocking him felt like it would be what really made this all real.

You felt like if you blocked him, surely he would keel over and die of a broken heart once he realized and finally tried to reach out again, because you knew damn well this man would reach out again at some point.

Which is ironic, because on the fourth week, an exact month later, he did reach out. You suspect maybe it was on accident, because he sent a long ass paragraph confessing how much he regretted it, how much he loves you, how much he misses you, and how much he hates his wife… but following the paragraph, he promptly apologized. Said it was an accident.

Before he deemed it as an ‘accident’, you were ready. You started typing back an acceptance, asking to see him again, borderline begging to see him again. But him admitting he didn’t mean to actually send it made you pause.

Made you realize how dangerous this man really was.

This was the night that you blocked his number.

And holy fuck, that made grieving ten times worse. Because now there was no string tethering you together. The very last root that kept you both twined together was ripped apart. He was like a ghost now, just a memory. Nothing in your life tied you to him other than the mementos he left behind.

The mementos which you obsessively held onto each day. You looked at the pictures he left every single day several times a day, you would literally just stare and cry. The chain he left remained on your neck like a god damn collar, you refused to take it off as if it was branded into your skin. You showered with it on, slept with it on, never took it off. The clothing he left you wore frequently, and you refused to wash them. But overtime, his scent faded. It faded into your own scent which made you question your sanity, because the less you smelt him on his jacket, hoodie, and shirt, the more you questioned was he ever even real?

Or was this all some fucked up delusion you made up out of loneliness and desperation to feel loved by someone? To love someone?

The dreams made it worse. Every single goddamn night you had dreams about him. It started out as good dreams, the kind of dreams that were reliving memories or making fantasies of forever come alive. Both of your flowers were immortal and at full bloom in these dreams, and it was the only moments of happiness you had. The only thing you could do to feel better was sleep, and so you did.

You slept as much as you could. On your days off of work, you would take sleeping pills that you didn’t need, and you would sleep 14 hours at a time, just to have these dreams and feel close to him again. Dreams of making love over and over, gardening together, cooking together, living together, getting married, having little babies that looked just like him, a complete fantasy world that you made in these dreams that provided solace.

But when you woke up, it was like the grieving process never progressed. It never got better. It only got worse. And in the back of your mind you knew how unhealthy it was to be sleeping so long, you knew that you were technically abusing sleeping medication, you knew that you were putting your job at risk by waking up late every single damn day and being late to work too, and you knew that your mental health was degrading.

You were fucking torturing yourself but you didn’t know how to stop.

After you blocked him though, it’s like the dreams morphed. They changed completely, turned morbid and disturbing. You have no idea why, maybe because in some way, you still were holding onto those rose colored glasses and refused to acknowledge the bad parts of the relationship you had with him. But severing that last point of contact seemed to have bring light onto the guilt you felt while you were with him, the jealousy, the misplaced possessiveness that he never even knew about.

Much like the dream you had tonight, the dreams were weird and distorted. They always started out sickly sweet but ended on a bitter note. Ended with him disintegrating into a pile of petals after proclaiming he was never yours and never would be.

This is when you stopped sleeping all together. Instead of taking sleeping pills that you really didn’t need and sleeping for way too long, you quit those pills cold turkey and started to develop insomnia. Quitting sleeping pills after taking them for an entire month should have been done slowly, because your body becomes dependent on them. If you quit them cold turkey, it prevents your body from producing the chemicals it needs to sleep, often leading to temporary or even a permanent case of insomnia. So you just started staying up. It was so easy, too. So easy to be tired rather than have those fucking nightmares.

If you did sleep, it was 2-3 hours at a time because your body couldn’t take being awake any longer. But you never allowed yourself to sleep for long, you simply couldn’t sleep peacefully. The moment the nightmares would begin, you would force yourself to wake up. You’d wake up in a cold sweat, and then you’d cry for fucking hours. You’d feel guilty and jealous over shit you should’ve gotten over by now.

Sometimes, on really bad days, his wife would appear in these dreams too. And it fucked you up. A faceless woman would catch you in bed with Jungkook, and she would scream and cry and yell, blame you for ruining her marriage and her future, and then Jungkook would become faceless too. As if you never really knew him.

Things became bad, to say the least. Three months into grieving, heartbreak, fucking hell on earth, you were very unwell. And it became noticeable to those around you.

Which was arguably the worst part, because no one knew what was wrong or what was going on. Obviously you never told anyone about Jungkook, why the fuck would you? Sleeping with a married man and falling in love with him isn’t something to brag about. As much as he was your most treasured memory, he was also your most dirty secret. You doubted if you did tell anyone, they would feel any sympathy for you. Especially considering you continued to sleep with him after finding out he was married. You did this to yourself, really. No one feels sympathy for a fucking home wrecker.

That’s what you felt you were. A home wrecker, a mistress, the other woman. This wasn’t some case of you being fucked over by some sleazy guy who hid his marriage from you, you were both at fault, you both did wrong, and you felt like you deserved to suffer in silence. So you did.

You didn’t go out with your little group of friends anymore, you constantly made excuses and told those around you that you were fine, just a little depressed. You hid it well… until you didn’t. It became fucking impossible to hide when you felt like you were dying on the inside.

You work at a little art studio/store downtown, it isn’t much but it pays the bills and you’re happy doing it. You were, anyway. You were designated to instruct the themed classes that are hosted every night. You aren’t a professional by any means, you just love to paint, you love art, and you used to love seeing the lovers and families come in to have fun and learn how to paint silly little pictures with you.

But during the grieving process, you became noticeably bad at your job. You would show up late to the morning classes, you weren’t selling as much art supplies as you used to, and the night classes are what really started fucking you up. The night classes were normally full of couples who were on dates… dates you never got to indulge in with he-who-shall-not-be-fucking-named.

You would become bitter during these classes. Previously you were peppy, a bit funny, and very encouraging to those who wanted to learn. But you became dull. Of course you didn’t take out your feelings on these innocent customers, but the classes just weren’t as fun for the people paying for them.

Your coworkers noticed heavily. Your boss isn’t a bad guy, but he knew something was very off with you. The girls you worked with also noticed, more specifically Sohee who had continuously asked you if you were ok and tried to get you to confess what the fuck was causing you to become a lifeless zombie who had nothing but guilt and bitterness behind her eyes.

Your performance and constant attendance issues should have gotten you fired, really. You were almost betting that your boss would fire you at some point. But he didn’t, instead he awkwardly begged Sohee to get to the bottom of what was going on because even if you were sort of shit at your job at the moment, he was mostly worried. Everyone was worried, and you never even realized it.

Never realized how fucking obvious it was that this was heartbreak caused by love.

Of course you didn’t tell Sohee outright. You refused to. You were going to take this shit to your grave, you swore it. God and satan and Jeon Jungkook would be the only ones who knew that this shit ever happened.

Until she took you out for drinks, and you got shit faced drunk and spilled your dirty soil all over the place for her to see.

All it took was three bottles of soju and seeing a couple making out in the booth across from you to make you confess it all. Sohee listened, and you were sure she was going to chastise you and call you a dirty home wrecking whore after you were done.

But she never did. She only listened and consoled you.

She didn’t make you feel guilty and she didn’t undermine your feelings. She rubbed your back and wiped your tears like the Angel she is, and she told you it was ok. She told you that sometimes mistakes are the best things that can happen to us, even if they’re supposed to be mistakes. She held your hand and coaxed you out of the dirt, wanted you to see that your feelings were valid and you didn’t have to feel guilty for them.

On the other hand, she was also brutally honest. She asked curious questions, and when she found out you had been ‘grieving’ for nearly three months now, she scolded you. Not because what you did was wrong, but because you weren’t taking care of yourself. You were fucking torturing yourself and it wasn’t ok.

Everyone grieves after breaking up. That’s normal. Although this technically wasn’t a breakup, it somehow felt much worse because of that very fucking reason. It wasn’t a breakup, but felt like one.

What isn’t normal is never making progress in grieving. Instead of getting better and moving on, you stayed stagnant. Everything around you was changing, spring turning into summer and then turning into autumn, leaf’s changing from vibrant to warm and muted, people and places moving on about their days all while you stayed stuck in the same exact spot in your own head. A self made prison.

She explained how it wasn’t normal, how you probably needed to get help. How it’s ok to feel this way, but it isn’t ok to neglect and torture yourself. You needed help, and you knew it, you weren’t coping properly. But you were also stubborn.

Because despite being fucking sick with grief for Jungkook, you were also worried. You swore in your head that he wasn’t ok. Fuck, what if he’s actually dead? What if he’s being dumb? Is he even taking care of himself? How badly is her hurting? What if he’s lonely?

The main reason you couldn’t move on is because, again, guilt. It fucking plagued you still, but it was different. You convinced yourself that he was just as unwell as you, he fucking must be. Which made you feel as if you weren’t allowed to move on and try to be happy, or even ok. You tortured yourself for both selfless and selfish reasons. You didn’t know how to stop.

That same night, you stayed at Sohee’s place. She was determined to knock some damn sense into you. You weren’t super close prior to this, but she genuinely could not stand seeing you so dead inside. She felt awful for you, and she was a good friend. Sometimes good friends have to be a bit harsh to get through.

So as you were on her couch sulking, watching TV, she asked questions about Jungkook. You didn’t think anything of it. You rambled on and on about Jungkook, assuming she was just letting you get it all out. You didn’t think anything of it when she asked for his full name and birthday, or when she asked you to describe what he looked like, or when she asked what his occupation was.

But boy, the moment she shoved her phone in your face while you were rambling on and on about how he reminded you of a flower, you suddenly regretted telling her anything.

“You need to get your shit together, because he’s doing just fine.” She told you, and at first you refused to look. Because you didn’t want to know what was on her phone screen.

What would be the damning evidence that you’d been torturing yourself while he was actually moving on, rather than suffering with you.

But she was just as stubborn as you were, and she made you look. You did. And you swear a part of you healed and broke all at once.

You have no idea how the fuck this crazy bitch did it, but she found his wife’s Instagram. Finding his account is one thing, but hers? The faceless woman who was haunting your nightmares and accusing you of ruining her life? The faceless woman who now has a face and a name and an entire fucking life for you to see?

A life with your flower, your lover, your ultimate fucking demise. All right in front of you.

You were silent as you scrolled. So many curiosities that you held in the past were now answered. Such as how she looked… and she was gorgeous. She had wavy honey blond hair which was clearly dyed but looked so perfect on her, most of her pictures she had blue contacts in that hid her pretty brown eyes but still somehow made her look ethereal, she was fit with the perfect body, her makeup was natural but flawless… she was flawless in every way.

You gathered that she is a journalist that specializes in fashion. She’s often traveling just as Jungkook used to claim when he was with you. She goes to fancy fashion shows and takes pictures and writes articles. So professional and put together in every way.

Nothing like you. And at first, you caught yourself comparing yourself to her harshly. Wondering what she had that you didn’t…

Until you scrolled to her most recent posts.

And your lover stared at you through the screen mockingly.

First you saw a picture of them kissing. Jungkook was smiling onto her lips. The caption reads ‘He flew us to LA just so I could see Coachella’. This was posted two months ago.

Two months ago… not long after you ended things.

Two months ago when you were crying so hard that you couldn’t breathe or see, calling out for him to come back to you… while he was at fucking Coachella with his wife.

Was he ever even grieving? Did he ever even care?

You silently scrolled on, and one more post is all you fucking needed.

Posted today, another picture of them kissing, on a yacht at night. ‘Throwback to our honeymoon, can’t believe it was 3 years ago, he’s taking me to Japan for our anniversary to recreate it!’

He went on a fucking vacation while you were on your coworkers couch babbling about how much you love and miss him and how he’s prettier than a flower.

How fucking shitty does that feel?

The emotions happened quickly. You felt resentment, jealousy, anger, maybe even hatred towards them both. You had been suffering for months while he was at Coachella after you fucking blocked him. You had been worried this entire time when he had been doing just fine all along.

It felt like he did you wrong in a way… but those feelings went away just as quickly as they came.

Because this is what you wanted. As much as it fucking stings, you literally told him ‘love your wife more’. You meant it. Not just for his wife’s sake, but for his. He didn’t want to leave her, so he should at least try to love her again. Fuck, all you wanted was for him to be happy.

No matter how jealous or bitter you felt at actually seeing him happy, it brought you a sense of peace knowing that maybe he wasn’t suffering like you assumed. Maybe he was happy. Maybe he was ok. Maybe his wife did love him and was nurturing him back to health without even knowing it.

It didn’t make it hurt any less, but it really did give you a bit of clarity.

Of course you cried about it. Fuck, you cried and cried and cried, enough to water an entire bush of flowers at that point. The only difference was this time, you weren’t alone. Sohee was with you, consoling you through it, letting you vent your feelings and frustrations. Letting you grieve.

But this time, you want to grieve proper. If he’s happy, you deserve to be happy too…

You are so thankful for Sohee because without her, you’re sure you may have withered away completely.

Shortly after this new sense of clarity, Sohee started helping you slowly pick up pieces of yourself. Petals and leafs and vines and roots, all scattered amongst the dirt, all slowly started gathering together.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to put these pieces back together. You can’t nurture a flower back to health once it’s died, after all… but you can start fresh.

You and Sohee became good friends, she helped you find healthier coping mechanisms, let you cry when you need to, let you vent when you can’t keep it in anymore, and most importantly she let you share the good memories you had with Jungkook. She never made you feel guilty, she just listened. And you are so fucking thankful for that.

And as time went on, you did get better slowly. After seeing what you saw, it was much easier to feel ok with trying to be happy. The guilt was mostly gone at this point, and all you wanted was to focus on yourself. Your sleep slowly got better, the nightmares slowly went away, and although you aren’t the same, you aren’t as dull either.

You start painting again, painting has always been one of your favorite things. You used to paint all the time, mostly portraits of those you loved… portraits of him after you first met became your favorite thing to paint. All of those are tucked away in a closet now though, along with the many pictures you have of him, because you don’t need any reminders of him of you can help it. Which is kind of a contradiction considering your favorite thing to paint now is flowers… but we don’t have to talk about that.

It takes time to heal and grieve after you cut the chord with someone who you swore you’d live and die with. It takes extra time when you never really started to move on to begin with. But you do start healing. Maybe you aren’t as social as you once were, maybe you’re lonelier now, maybe you’re starting to realize you still don’t know yourself quite as much as you thought you did.

But you’re making progress… slowly. No longer a flower that’s at full bloom, but also no longer a flower that’s wilting. Just a seed, your own seed that you water and care for rather than relying on someone else to do it for you.

And although you are now the one taking care of your own flower, Sohee is helping. Rather than relying on someone to water and feed your plant, you’re doing it together. You water, she feeds. Vice versa. Teamwork. Progress. You aren’t codependent, you’re just accepting help from a friend that you swear is an Angel sent from above. You are so thankful for her.

She pushes you, too. After she sees you started to paint and do ok at work again, she pushed some more. She constantly tried to get you to go out, meet new people, meet new guys specifically. Something that made you feel sick to think about, but also you slowly started missing having someone to love on. Someone to share affection and laughter with that wasn’t just a friend. You knew she was right, even if you didn’t actually date someone, it would be great progress if you actually put yourself out there and were open to the idea of letting someone in romantically, even just a little bit.

Someone who’s actually available for more than secret trysts.

Which is why you let Sohee set you up on a date. You’ve grown to trust Sohee heavily, maybe a bit too much. But fuck, no one can blame you for that when she is the one who dug up your dirty secrets and instead of judging you, helped you through it. She comforted you when you didn’t know how to comfort yourself. So you trust her judgment heavily, and if she thinks you should try to date, you think she’s right.

And Sohee has great taste in men, you’ve seen it first hand. She’s shared various stories with you about her hookups and exes, and the girl has similar taste as you, maybe just a bit more adventurous. A blind date with a man of Sohee’s choice doesn’t sound so bad.

You really didn’t expect the date to turn into anything, or even be enjoyable. You mostly did it because it was a step in the right direction of fully moving on. You were planning on trying to put yourself out there, sure, but you never planned to actually like the guy.

You didn’t expect Sohee to set you up with a man who looked like he could be a fucking model. You didn’t expect him to be your exact type. And you didn’t expect him to be so goddamn sweet and put together.

The moment you saw this man you knew you were in trouble. The moment he opened his mouth, you also knew you were in trouble. You were fucking terrified at the prospect of actually liking someone other than Jungkook. Even just being attracted to someone else felt wrong…

Shit, most days looking at your dildo felt wrong. You couldn’t even fucking use it.

So you were a bit of a nervous wreck when this man picked you up to wine and dine you. You weren’t nervous before you saw his face or heard his voice. But you were once you came face to face with him, it was as if he had a sign on his head that said ‘MOVE ON Y/N’, bright and neon, mocking you the entire night.

But as the night went on, you found this man wasn’t quite as intimidating as he seemed. He asked questions, wanted to get to know you, seemed genuinely interested in you as a person. He was nice to look at. Was pretty to listen to. He didn’t act bored either when you didn’t ask him questions, in fact, he answered the silent questions in your head without you even asking.

He could tell you were nervous, and although he didn’t know the true reason behind it, he thought it was adorable. Thought to himself, thank fuck for Sohee and her pretty friends. Because he was genuinely enamored with you.

He didn’t see the wilted flower that Jungkook did, or the dead flower mocking you every time you looked into the mirror. He saw a pretty little wildflower that he wanted to pick and take home with him.

You learned quite a bit about him that night despite never really asking. He worked in marketing for a fashion design company, fairly close to where you work, a 9-5 that gave him weekends off and paid vacation, full benefits too. He had a dog named Simba who he loved like a child. He didn’t have many hobbies but he did enjoy bar hopping and hanging out with his group of friends who he talked fondly of. He takes good care of himself, cares about his appearance and fashion choices, takes pride in being handsome, even has a fucking skincare routine that he talked about for nearly five minutes… but he’s still humble somehow. Doesn’t seem narcissistic or conceited, just sure of himself. Confident. He knows his worth, but also knows his place.

You really liked that, considering you haven’t been quite so confident lately.

He has a friend who he called Tae that he speaks highly of, you can tell he loves his friends dearly. He described him as a big teddy-bear-man-child, which makes him seem very loveable. Apparently they don’t exactly share the same friend group but they come together often.

His relationship history… he was kind of vague. He said he has had a few serious relationships, but they never last because the woman loses interest in him, and he hasn’t actually dated in nearly two years, but has had casual flings…

This could be seen as a red flag. Or… maybe he was hurt, and he doesn’t want to talk about it. You know damn well how that feels, in fact, he asked you about your dating history, and you were incredibly vague.

What were you supposed to say? ‘Ah, well, every relationship I have had so far failed, but I was with one guy who I loved more than anything in the world, but it didn’t work out because he was married. Oops!’

Yeah, no, fuck that. It was hard enough being honest with Sohee, she had to get you drunk for you to even confess. There’s was no damn way you were going to tell him.

You didn’t lie. You just said you were in a bit of a situationship with someone you grew feelings for, and when it ended it hurt very badly. Vague, but true. He doesn’t need to know details.

He never even asked for details, which surprised you. In fact, he said “It’s ok, we don’t have to rush into anything, I get it. But try to be open with me, yeah? I really like you so far.”

Too good to be true. Or maybe, just maybe, Sohee sent you an Angel in disguise, one she met while she became an Angel herself. Maybe he really is a good guy, and you got lucky for once. Maybe your karma for the things you did with Jungkook was your suffering in the beginning of grieving, and now you have a chance to redeem yourself.

You were tempted to cast him out after this night together. Because you were afraid. What was the catch? What was he hiding? Is he a serial killer? Is he even real? Are you making up these men in your head or something?

You had a decision to make: you could make the decision to take more time for yourself, count this as you putting yourself out there… or you could give him a chance. See where it goes.

You chose the latter.

You explained to him as he walked you to your door that you weren’t ready for something serious, but you enjoyed spending time with him too. And he was ok with that. He said he’d like to take you out again anyway, and you agreed.

An easy routine began after this. The dates following the first one were tame and relaxed but always so nice. It was sort of healing in a way, honestly. He was so kind and always went at your pace, let you control everything. He’d be the one taking you out, but you got to set the pace. He never tried to kiss or touch either, never pressured you to move things faster. Eventually you started spending every weekend together, and often weekdays too. He’d bring you lunch or dinner at work and eat with you, he’d visit your apartment, sometimes you’d even go to his. You started spending the night together, he left his toothbrush at your apartment and you left yours at his.

This all happened within the span of the last few months, so maybe it was a bit fast, but you just did things as they felt right.

And yes, eventually you kissed. Eventually you touched. Eventually you fucked. And you were surprised that you didn’t feel guilty after. You felt… fine. The sex wasn’t out of this world, it was fairly vanilla, but you actually managed to finish and feel good about it afterward.

You think a lot of that had to do with the fact that you were touch starved, hadn’t been with anyone since that last night with Jungkook. Ironically, also like an addict quitting cold turkey. You went from getting touched and fuck at least three times a week, to nothing at all. Could barely even touch yourself properly. But also… he was good in bed. He was fine. It wasn’t too much or too little and he paid close attention to the way your body reacted, he didn’t just act like a wild animal chasing release like most men do.

The day you slept with him was the day you stopped thinking about Jungkook so much. It was like as time went on and you broke these little boundaries for yourself, little petals you held onto flew away with the wind. The petals weighed barely anything, but felt like they weighed the same as bricks.

Did you forget about him? Fuck no. You never could. You still think of him daily. You wonder how he’s doing, if he’s ok, if he’s happy… if he thinks of you too. But it isn’t compulsive like it once was, he doesn’t consume you. He’s just a memory you go back to.

Or maybe you’re in denial.

Because even then… you still wear his chain, you still sleep in his shirt, you still wear his hoodie around the house, and as the months grow colder, your jacket remains the cozy Calvin Klein denim that he gifted you.

You still look at the pictures, maybe not every night, but often. Relive the memories. Wonder if he does the same.

You still stalk his wife’s Instagram. Not obsessively, but every now and then you’ll check to see if she has posted more pictures of them. And most times, she hasn’t. But there are a few new ones… pictures of him smiling that scrunched up smile you’ve always loved, pictures of them together, and pictures of her alone. A reminder to yourself that you have no place in his life… that’s the reason for doing it you chalk it up to, anyway.

And every damn time Seojoon brings you a bouquet of flowers, which is weekly, you can’t fucking help but think of your Jeon Jungkook.

So… maybe you are in denial. But also, you’re coping, you’re moving on. You haven’t fully let him go yet, you’re not sure if you can, but you have been doing fine. You’ve been closer to happy than you have been ever since that last night with him.

He isn’t consuming your thoughts and feelings like he was in the beginning, but he is still very much there in your heart. Despite his petals floating away, some of his roots remain underneath the soil. He’s there… but not.

Which is why tonight’s dream has you so fucking shaken up.

You haven’t dreamed of him in months now. Ever since you started coping more healthily, the dreams faded along with the hurt and resentment. No nightmares. No dreams. Nothing. Just peaceful sleep.

You lay there panting, trying to calm your heart rate down by thinking of things that aren’t him. You look at the clock and realize it’s only 8pm, you barely even remember falling asleep so early. Seojoon agreed to come over after work tonight, but had to stay late at the office to finish some project or something. You must’ve dozed off waiting for him.

You don’t want to start the cycle again, but fuck, you sure as hell won’t be going to sleep again either. Not until Seojoon gets here, anyway.

Things with Seojoon remain smooth, uncomplicated. You’ve been seeing each other for a good three months now, and although there is no title to what you are, you’re basically dating at this point. You wouldn’t call him your boyfriend necessarily, but also you’re exclusive to him.

You like how things are. It’s nice. It’s not stressful, and you don’t have to hide. So when you have the sudden impulse to push him away and tell him you need space, you keep repeating in your head that you can’t let one nightmare fuck it all up. It was just a nightmare.

That’s all.

Instead of isolating like you normally would, and texting Seojoon to tell him not to come, you get out of bed and take off the oversized CK T-shirt and put on your dedicated painting T-shirt which is stained in various colors of paint, far too vibrant for the mood you’re currently in.

You set up the corner of your room as you always do, break out your easel and canvas and various paints, put on your painting playlist on Spotify, and you tell yourself that this is coping. This is a healthy way to cope. No, it’s not dwelling, it’s coping.

It’s coping, you’re sure.

You’re totally not freaking out about the fact that your flower became faceless in this dream, or that he was incredibly angry and cold towards you, or that he ended up disintegrating right in front of your fucking eyes again.

You’re totally not worried that you forgot what he looked like. Not at all. This is just coping.

And so you paint. You don’t really know where you’re going with it, and try to ignore the fact that you are trying to paint a portrait of someone who is now a ghost to you from memory alone. You don’t think of anything, really, you just let your hands move on their own accord.

You have no idea how much time passes before you’re standing before the painting you’ve created, questioning it. Pretending that you can’t quite remember how the eyes or mouth are supposed to look.

You know. You know well. You haven’t forgotten his face, the nose you’ve painted onto the faceless man is proof alone that you have not forgotten. Such a unique nose, a bit big, pointy, perfect in the most imperfect way. How could you forget such a beautiful piece of art carved by god himself?

It’s quite the opposite, really. You stare at the painting for a long time hoping it starts to distort. Hoping that you won’t recognize the single feature you’ve managed to capture. Hoping that somehow, someway, you’ll remember a different set of eyes and lips and beauty marks that don’t belong to the nose staring at you right now.

You start to feel a bit crazy, honestly. This faceless man with only a nose and petals falling off of his skin seems almost too real. Too close. It’s been over half a year now that you’ve seen him, yet here he is fucking haunting you after you swore you were over him.

You are, you still swear. You have to be.

You take your paint brush and glob a streak of bright red paint on it, you’re ready to destroy the canvas because for some fucking reason it won’t distort. You can’t stand looking at it anymore. So you huff, bring your paintbrush to the canvas and—

“That’s gorgeous.”

Fuck.

You slowly turn your head to see Seojoon standing against your bedroom door frame. Suddenly, you sort of regret giving him your spare key, because if he hadn’t spoken up sooner, he would’ve just witnessed you defiling the goddamn painting as if it killed your family. He would’ve thought you were psychotic.

“Ah, thanks. I was just messing around with some ideas I had…”

He arches a brow at you, and even his eyes find the painting again. You nearly feel yourself break a sweat, because what if he asks questions? What if he realizes this wasn’t just you messing around like some quirky art girlie, but this is an actual person you’ve painted?

The same person you vaguely told him about. The man that was never yours, but somehow is still managing to fuck with your head. If he caught on, he may ask questions, and you can’t explain. You’d have to lie.

That’s how you feel, anyway. And you can’t have that.

He lets out an intrigued sigh as he pushes off of the door frame and takes his blazer off, makes his way towards you. He stands right behind you, encircling your waist in his arms and resting his chin on the top of your head, just like Jung—

“That’s very intricate for just messing around babe. What’s it mean?”

He doesn’t sound accusing when he asks, just curious. Seojoon is always curious to know what goes on in your head, especially when it comes to the way you express yourself. And he has no fucking idea who is in this painting, if it’s anyone at all, but he knows he gets an odd feeling in his stomach when he looks at it.

You merely shrug in response as you put your paintbrush down and lean into his touch. This is the question you didn’t want to answer. Although his tone isn’t accusing, you know what he’s really asking: ‘who the fuck is that?’

You’re torn between being vague and lying outright. Lying is never good in a relationship… although you aren’t technically in a relationship to begin with. But again, this is something you will not discuss with him. You don’t want to. And you know in the back of your mind that lying and sneaking around is the very thing that fucked with your head to begin with, but…

Sometimes white lies are necessary… right?

“Doesn’t really mean anything, I was just going with the flow. Not sure who it is, can’t quite figure out the eyes or mouth.” You gesture lazily with one of your hands, placing your free hand on top of his on your tummy.

No need to tell him you know exactly who the fuck this is and you haven’t added the eyes or the mouth because you think you might have a psychotic break if you see his face again.

Seojoon isn’t stupid though. He can tell you’re lying. But he won’t call you out on it. He can tell maybe this is sensitive to you, maybe whoever this is hurt you… and also, he is no stranger to little white lies.

Nothing is ever as pretty as it seems, is it?

He nods, kisses the top of your head. But he can’t quite hear his eyes away from the painting because… it looks so familiar. He can’t place it, maybe he’s just reading into it too much but he swears he knows that nose.

“Huh. Looks kinda familiar. Don’t know why though.”

Immediately you feel alarm bells going off in your head. Why the fuck would it look familiar? It’s a nose on a face that’s otherwise faceless… it’s also kind of morbid looking.

You get this feeling in your gut that you don’t like, but immediately choose to ignore. Because you convince yourself this is anxiety being mixed up with intuition. You often question yourself these days, because you’re paranoid karma is coming for you. But you have to remind yourself that your feelings are valid, you suffered enough, no need to let the lingering guilt you feel over the past affect mundane moments like this.

It’s just anxiety, surely. It’s such a basic nose, it could belong to anyone. It’s a faceless fucking painting, he can’t possibly know who that nose belongs to.

Bullshit.

“Looks familiar because it’s not finished. Who knows, maybe it’s you.”

You tease him, nudging your ass into him which earns you a little grunt. You let out a half hearted giggle and shake your head… when in reality the mere idea of him being in the painting makes you feel sick. It’s not that you don’t want to paint Seojoon, or that you don’t think he’s pretty…

It’s because you know that nose belongs to someone else, the entire concept of this painting is based upon someone else. It could never be Seojoon.

Time to change the subject.

You remove his arms from around your waist and decide you’re done with painting for the night. Seojoon is here now, no need to dwell on the faceless flower man who haunts your dreams like a goddamn ghost.

You walk over to your dresser and take a makeup wipe to start wiping the little specs of paint from your face and arms as you ask, “How was work? You were super late tonight.”

Again, not accusatory. Just curious, because he doesn’t often stay this late for work. Maybe a few hours at a time but never this late into the night.

You’re too focused on getting the paint off of your skin to notice the way he avoids looking at you.

He begins unbuttoning his shirt as he speaks casually, “Ah, was fine. Nothing new. Some idiot fucked up the powerpoint presentation for one of our projects and I had to stay to clean up their mess, you know how it is.”

You really don’t know how it is, but you nod along anyway, you aren’t really paying attention. Just wanna hear about his day.

Maybe you should pay attention.

Before you can speak up, he continues, “Oh, that reminds me, Taehyung invited me to a little potluck type deal tomorrow night with some friends. Was gonna see if you’d wanna come, would be a great chance for you to meet some of my buddies.”

For some reason you get a bit of anxiety at the thought of meeting his friends. You’re not sure why, but again, that feeling in your gut persists. You chalk it up to the fact you’re on edge and paranoid because Seojoon walked in on something you feel he should not have. That damn cursed painting.

Anxiety over intuition. Surely.

You’ve yet to meet his friends, so it is kind of overdue. There’s no real reason as to why, it just hasn’t come up yet. He’s met plenty of your friends, sharing Sohee as a friend means you share other friends too. But you’ve still yet to meet his best friend or even his friend group.

You’ve heard a lot about them, Tae specifically, and he seems lovely. You want to meet him, meet all of them… so you aren’t sure why you have anxiety about it.

Get a grip, Y/N, one nightmare doesn’t mean it’s the end of the fucking world and everything bad is about to happen.

But even then, you ask hesitantly as you throw your makeup wipe away, “You sure? I don’t wanna be the annoying ‘girlfriend’ who wasn’t invited.”

He snorts at that, and shakes his head as he flops onto your bed with his shirt now open and loose with his belt undone. He places his hands behind behind his head as he stares at you, “Can’t be the annoying girlfriend when you aren’t my girlfriend babe.”

He arches a brow, sticks his tongue out playfully. He isn’t scolding you or pressuring you, not that you’re aware of, but is definitely hinting to the fact that you’ve both sort of avoided the whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing up to this point.

You’ve avoided it because… well, you don’t know really. You just haven’t felt the need to label it, and if you’re being honest, you’re not sure if you’re ready for the label. On one hand, it’s just a label. So it isn’t that serious. Nothing would change really because you’re already exclusive to each other… that’s what you assume, anyway.

On another hand, it feels more permanent. For some reason it makes you feel pressured into admitting things you don’t quite want to admit. If he were to ask curious questions that he has yet to ask, you wouldn’t be able to lie about them under the guise of it being too private and personal.

You just might have to be honest about the flower who made you bloom and wilt all at once. The flower that was never really yours, but is the entire reason you’re hesitant to commit, despite never committing to that very flower.

He hasn’t made a move to make it official either though, although that’s purely out of respect. Little do you know, all of his friends know you as his girlfriend. His coworkers too. He’s already added that label. But out of ‘respect’ to you, he hasn’t told you that and hasn’t pressured you to add the label yourself. He did say he would go at your pace, after all…

That’s what he allows you to think, anyway. Seojoon is only a man…

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” You retort as you grab a little hair clip and toss it at him, and then go back to your dresser with a huff, start undressing and finding something comfy to wear for bed. Not the CK T-shirt this time. You don’t feel right wearing it in bed with Seojoon.

He shamelessly stares at you as you undress, his eyes becoming a bit heavy lidded as he speaks, “I know I know, but they want you there. They all wanna meet you, I talk about you a lot on our nights out. You could impress them by making something yummy. Please?" He playfully pouts at you and you roll your eyes. You don't miss how his eyes remain glued to your ass even as he pouts, which in most cases is flattering... but tonight you aren't really in the mood. For very unobvious reasons to him, but painfully obvious reasons to you.

You know that he’s right though, you need to meet his friends. It’s not as serious as it feels. It’s only fair to him. You make your way over to the bed, crawl on, and snuggle up to him as you say, “I guess I’m just nervous… but I’ll go.”

He instinctively lifts his arm up so that you can nuzzle into him, his hand trails down your back, then to your ass where he squeezes, “Don’t be nervous, they’re just my friends, and they already love you from what I’ve told them about you. Some of the guys will even have their wives or girlfriends there so you can have girl time or whatever,”

You don’t wanna be pessimistic… but being with his friends and their spouses adds a bit more pressure… especially considering you aren’t technically his girlfriend.

He leans in, whispers in your ear as he squeezes your ass again, “Who knows, maybe they’ll even be jealous I’ve got such a pretty not-girlfriend.”

He chuckles and kisses the top of your head, makes no move to escalate things beyond squeezing your ass. He definitely wants to, but he won’t. Your pace and all that.

It’s true though, he’s excited for you to meet his friends. Even more excited at the prospect of them being jealous. He nearly brags about you on nights out with them because you are so unlike any girl he has been with before.

Seojoon is hot shit and he knows it. He’s one of those men that woman see on the street and think ‘damn I want him.’ He’s used to woman being willing to drop to their knees just for a chance with him. He’s used to woman going at his pace…

But you, you’re different. Because even though he was handsome, even though you were clearly into him from the start, you made him work for it. It’s different because woman are usually willing to do whatever he wants. But you, you had boundaries. You still have boundaries. You’re skittish like a stray cat, one wrong move and you may kick him to the damn curb. He has to earn you and your trust… he has to chase you.

And oh, he loves that. As much as he itches to put a label on it, he’s more than willing to be the one doing whatever you want at your pace. It’s kind of like wanting something he can’t have… it’s the thrill of it. And he’s proud of the fact that you have stayed this long, you’ve yet to push him away.

Maybe it’s not official, but it’s exclusive. That’s what you both think it’s supposed to be, anyway. Although his friends already know you as his girlfriend, and so do his coworkers. In his head, you are his girl. You don’t have to admit it, but you are. The label won’t change things as him and his friends see it, considering it was already there.

His little wildflower that he picked on the side of the rode, out of place on the side of a street full of cars. He put you in a little vase and slowly waters you with security and gives you freedom in the form of sunlight.

Even though you’re unaware that you sit stagnant in a vase on his kitchen counter… just like you’re unaware that you’re his girlfriend.

Some things you just don’t need to know. It’ll happen anyway, he’s sure of it. You’ll agree to be his soon.

But if you did know… if you knew that he was currently comparing you to any sort of flower, especially a fucking wild flower, while simultaneously considering you his girl when you never agreed… you just night have called it all off.

Flower comparisons are reserved for a man who’s faceless painting is staring at you right now. For you and him only. Not Seojoon… no matter what he is to you.

Bur you don’t know. You haven’t a damn clue. So he’s in the clear for now.

You roll your eyes at him, find the little hair clip that you threw at him sitting on the pillow. You pick it up, put it in his hair as you mutter, “Whateverrr. I doubt it.” And then promptly nuzzle into him again.

You do, in your head you don’t think there’s anything to be jealous of. But him? He thinks you’re the perfect arm candy. Every one of his friends will be surprised when they get to know you themselves considering you’re unlike his usual type, sort of an enigma. And then he’ll get to tell stories about your time together and exaggerate them to make them even better.

He’s excited. Much more excited than you are.

You both fall asleep soon after that, keeping up the idle chatter until you drift off. Thankfully, no more nightmares or dreams of your faceless flower man. Although it isn’t a peaceful sleep, it’s quiet. Always is better when sleeping next to someone.

Makes it easy to ignore that tiny bit of loneliness that you can’t quite ignore when no one else is around. The loneliness that you swore was gone until tonight. You can only hope that tomorrow these feelings will be gone, and the faceless man watching you sleep through a painting crafted by your hands will disappear from your thoughts when you wake up.

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook #jungkook angst #bts fanfction #bts imagines #bts smut #18+ only #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #i love jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction

[urrockstar-xe]

spiders on valentine's day - spiderman x gn!reader

posted feb 27th, 2024 6:02 pm

im late on v day posts like bad but who cares it's still love month so heres this :)

summary: a way too short blurb of reader spending the love holiday all alone, until Spider-man has his way. soso short, not proofread, late for v-day.

masterlist

wordcount: 0.5k

It was just past ten on the 14th as you made your way to the roof of your building, a bottle of fruity pink wine and a wine glass in your hand as you pushed the door open and moved towards the little metal table, rusted by rainy days and snowy nights. 

A few hours earlier your date had stood you up, so much for Tinder being a reliable Valentine. Now you have learned your lesson, never trust a guy named Brad. So now, your Valentine was the noisy nightlife of Queens, New York. and the cheapy wine that you had just picked up on the way home. 

You silently thanked your 5-minute-ago past self as you opened the pre-opened bottle, pouring it into the ice-filled glass. “Should’ve brought my book,” You mumbled before taking an embarrassingly big gulp of the wine. It’s not that you were self-pitying, absolutely not. It was more like the opposite actually. It had been a hot minute since you allowed yourself the freedom to sit down and not think a single important thought, just mindlessly sit on your roof. 

Plus it was fun to watch people below you, especially if they were freaking out over Spider-man swinging around the city. 

That’s until he swings toward your rooftop.  

Great

Just the company you needed. 

“You know, it’s sad to drink alone on Valentine’s Day.” Spidey started the second he landed, voice muffled by his mask ever so slightly as he stood up straight. 

“Spiders on Valentine’s day, something about that just screams bad luck.” You tease back, leaning back against the cool metal. Spidey looked at the floor, tsking as he shook his head. 

”Spiders have to be good luck, I mean, without me, you would have to spend this lovely holiday all on your lonesome.” He shrugged, sitting in the chair across from you.  You cracked, smiling at his mask. 

“There's that smile!” Spidey all but cheered, clapping his hands together triumphantly. You laughed, shaking your head the same way he had a minute earlier. “Did it ever cross your mind that I wanted to be alone?” You asked with a half smile, taking a sip from your glass. 

“I’m kinda hungry, just got back from this epic drug bust, you should’ve seen me I was all, ‘wam!’ ‘pow!’ ‘boom!’” Spidey ignored your question and instead made it a point to stand in the chair and show off his moves. “Anyway, I’m gonna go grab some pizza, you like pepperoni? who are you kiddin’ Spidey, course they do, everyone likes pepperoni, c’mon, man.” He muttered to himself while standing up and moving to the ledge, another tactic to get you to laugh and it worked. 

“Should I grab another glass?” You asked, watching as he set himself up in the direction of the nearest pizza place. 

“Nah, what kinda role model would I be if I drink and swing?” Spidey shot his first web, swinging towards another building as he yelled out.

”Think of the children!” 

#spiderman x reader #spiderman imagines #the amazing spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #ps4 peter parker x reader #tom!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #peter parker #Spotify

[multi-writer]

Love of my Life - Pt.1

Eddie Munson x fem Reader

Summary: Eddie and you broke up months ago and still hurts like hell, but you know what hurts more? Seeing the love of your life in danger thanks to Vecna.

Note: I wanted to do a scenario where instead of Max being tormented by Vecna is reader and Eddie is there to help them. This is part 1 (I might post part 2 tomorrow). Hope you like it <3

Based on the song “Love of my life” From Queen

Requested? No

Love of my Life pt. 2

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It's been 6 months since you and Eddie broke up because of a misunderstanding, and honestly, since then, you haven't been doing well at all. At first you could barely leave your room and as time went by you could go out again with your friends until you managed to find a balance in your life again. However, this past week has been terrible for you, every night you dream of the fight that caused your breakup, then you see horrible things happening to Eddie and at the end of the dream, you could see a being that you didn´t know staring at you, causing you to wake up every night at the same time trying to hold on to something to calm down.

These nightmares have made you stay awake at night, thanks to this you would look tired making all your friends worried about you, even a metal lover wondered about you every day as he saw you in the distance worried, but he knew that he himself would not hold back tears if he talked to you again after having committed the stupidity of not having followed you that disastrous night.

"(y/n), can you please accompany me to my office" The advisor asked you at recess, making you look her tiredly in the eye. Another difficult night. You stood up heavily and followed her as you shuffled your feet, the voices of the others were giving you a terrible headache. The walk to the consultant's office seemed to take forever and you were thankful she allowed you to sit down.

"What's the matter? You haven't been looking well lately. It's because of what happened with Eddie Mun..."- you interrupted her. "Please, I don't want to talk about him right now. The only thing I have is tiredness, I haven't been able to sleep well and that's giving me several headaches" you said covering your eyes to avoid the light transforming your pain into a migraine.

"And are you already taking something?" asked the woman in front of you as she wrote your symptoms on a sheet of paper.

"yes, pills for the pain and for the sleep I'm just trying to meditate and pray that I can finally rest."

"but it hasn't worked"

"obviously not" you replied angrily.

"please take this and go home and try to rest, I guess you need it" she said handing you a permission slip to leave. You took it, grabbed your things and quietly left.

The corridors were finally alone, there was no noise around, a quiet moment. When you reached your locker, you put down some books so as not to carry extra weight and closed it carefully so as not to provoke your pain even more. When you took one more step everything around you changed completely, it was the high school but something was different, it looked darker and spookier, in the distance you could hear some bells ringing. With some fear, you decided to look for it to see what it was about, at the end of the corridor you found a huge old clock, in the reflection of the glass you could see the creature of your nightmares staring at you. This caused you to scream and the school looked normal again.

Thanks to this you ran out of the place and didn't stop until you reached your house. Inside the house you threw your backpack on the couch and went upstairs to your room where you laid yourself on your bed to get some sleep.

Hours later you woke up thanks to someone knocking on the door of your house like crazy, angrily you went downstairs and opened it with force. There stood Dustin, behind him Steve's car with Steve, Robin and Max inside.

"We need you" Dustin said quickly. "Eddie is missing and we think he's in danger, please help us. We have a lead on where he might be but we don't know if we are right or wrong." This made the sleepiness go away. Eddie? In danger?

"Tell me everything Dustin..."

Along the way the four of them were explaining to you what had happened because of Hawking, about portals and Russians, they also mentioned to you what happened with Chrissy while she was with Eddie at his house. At this point you didn't know whether to be jealous or terrified of what was happening, Eddie would never kill someone, yes, he might be an idiot but not a murderer. Fear gripped you as Max explained Chrissy's symptoms and that maybe those were signs of the next victims.

"Those symptoms are severe headaches, nightmares and..." you interrupted Max.

"Visions?"

"…How do you know?" asks Dustin

"because apparently I am the next victim" you answered with tears in your eyes, this caused everyone in the car to be silent for a moment, you didn't know if it was because of the shock of the news or because they wanted to give you a moment to think about what was going to happen if they didn't do something fast. The drive to get to the house where Eddie was supposed to be was long, there Steve parked and everyone got out to look for your ex.

Inside the house everyone split up to search, it wasn't long before Eddie decided to come out and threaten Steve causing everyone to look at him in shock and convince him to let Steve go. You stood back silently to watch him, his shoulders were tense, his hands were shaking, his eyes were not the same since the last time you decided to see him, Eddie was scared, he was horrified and didn't know what to do. Your trance was broken when he pointed at you.

"and what is she doing here?" said Eddie staring at you, the question making you angry.

"I came to help you idiot, it would be best if you were grateful."

"honestly I'd rather you weren't here."

Wow, that really hurt.

"She, just like you, you idiot, is in danger. What happened to Chrissy, she might be next one" Steve replied angrily causing Eddie to look at you in fear.

"And she will stay with you while we look for Vecna" Robin said, this made you and Eddie look at her.

"what do you mean I'm going to stay with him?" you asked

"we don't want to take you, if we meet Vecna it would be taking you straight to him and that's the last thing we want" Max said

"Besides, Eddie can keep you conscious and help you in case you have another vision" continued Dustin

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is Dustin” you answered.

“Anything you need here´s the walkie-talkie, use it” said Robin

“yes mom” answered Eddie mockingly

The four of you quietly walked out leaving you and Eddie alone, you both watched Steve's car drive off, and it wasn't until you could no longer see it that you decided to go and sit down, the day had been very tiring and one more rest wouldn't be bad. Slowly Eddie followed you over to sit next to you.

"So how have you been?" asked Eddie

"normal, some days better than others... you?"

"same, it's not the same as before..."

"obviously it's not the same as before Eddie"

"no! What I mean..."

"I know, but that's how it happens"

"I shouldn't have, I was an idiot and I should have been there for you."

"yes, you were, but you can't change the past" you sighed then leaned your head on his shoulder

"believe me, if I could I would" Eddie replied as he laid his head on top of yours. "you know, if you want to sleep do it, I've seen you at school, you don't look so good".

"gee, thanks Eddie, that's all a girl wants to hear" you teased. "but I'll take the offer, if I'm feeling too tired" Eddie moved you a little to stand up, take off his jacket and put it over your shoulders.

"don't worry, rest, I'll be here to protect you" was the last thing you heard before you fell asleep.

You finally got a peaceful night's sleep, one with no nightmares, no pain and no people chasing you. It seems that being with Eddie does relax you after all. When you woke up you saw Eddie in front of you trying to contact Dustin.

"Eddie… what are you doing?" you asked as you rubbed your eyes.

"Trying to talk to the boy, we don't have much food and I need to ask you for something."

"Eddie there is nothing here?" you got up trying to look for food, apparently it was just a simple room. When you didn't hear Eddie's voice you turned to ask him again. "Eddie I told you-" he was no longer in the room, you tried to look for him with your eyes but he was nowhere to be found, you kept looking for him until a noise interrupted you.

The clock was behind you again.

Turning around you approached to check it only to find that being that has been chasing itself. You quickly reacted and decided to run, leaving the place where you were you saw that it was no longer the lake, but a reddish colored place with parts of houses floating.

"girl… come with me… I can stop your suffering…" said a deep voice behind you.

When you turned around you saw Vecna facing you as he grabbed you by the neck to lift you up and carry you to where Chrissy and a boy you didn't know were stuck, both disfigured in body and face, plus they had no eyes. Was that what was going to happen to you? You hoped not.

Meanwhile, Eddie was frantically trying to wake you up, he had already experienced this with Chrissy and he doesn't want the same thing that happened to her to happen to you.

"DUSTIN… DUSTIN RESPOND, IT'S HAPPENING" Eddie shouted over the walkie-talkie desperately on the verge of tears. "MAX, ROBIN, HARRINGTON, SOMEBODY ANSWER" when he received no answer he threw the device and went to you, took your face in his hands and tried to wake you up.

"please… fight… you can't leave me… I can't lose you, after all we've been through… please come back to me" sobbed Eddie.

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things imagine #stranger things one shot #eddie munson angst

[queerfanfiction]

Love Notes (Ch. 6)

Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader Thank you for being so supportive, even though it has been literal months since I have updated!! I will try to post a bit more regularly (but also who knows because depression is a bitch).

AO3 link

You decide to hop up and shower after Enid’s inadvertent pep talk, feeling more hopeful now than you have in days. After getting dressed and stocking the bathroom for recently arrived students, you head to Jericho. It’s time to finalize scavenger hunt plans. You don’t want to wait weeks and drag out the process through secret codes in your mixes.

Flowers were taken care of, thanks to your new acquaintance James. You had also created a few other clues but needed to access a few places, like the bookstore, in town to complete them. You try to push your latest trip with Larissa to Jericho from your mind as you begin jogging the wooded path from Nevermore grounds to the town square. The crisp spring air was welcomed, and hopefully you could use this time to clear your head. Besides, you didn’t want to check-out any vehicles to drive in case Larissa was nearby. Her quarters were right above the school’s scheduling office, and you weren’t ready to face her just yet.

Once you’re severely out of breath and think the pain in your side will topple you, you finally reach the outskirts of Jericho. Your pace slows, and you begin to map out a to-do list in your head. At the bookstore, you’ll need magazines and the clerk’s cooperation on the day of the scavenger hunt. At the flower shop, you’ll need to ensure James was able to secure lilies and might lend his labor in planting and arranging them. At the Weathervane, you will need to clue the new barista in on your plan. Since Tyler is now a guest of the state after everything went down a couple months ago, a new barista was hired. You two are friendly due to your aggressive kindness when they would accidentally make mistakes during training. You hated that people in town weren’t understanding of the realities of service work. Finally, you will need to visit city hall to ensure you don’t need a permit to occupy the public space around the fountain in the middle of the square.

As you check things off your list, you realize you still need a way to ensure Larissa makes it to the book store once in Jericho. You ponder this as you head back to Nevermore—this time at a reasonable pace. Once on the grounds, you cross through the courtyard to the dorms and see Enid giggling with Yoko. You smile softly at their carefree banter. It’s at this moment you have the idea to loop Enid into the scavenger hunt, especially since she had helped you put things into perspective when you were secluded away in your room. It’s also at this time that you know it would probably be a terrible idea to entrust Nevermore’s gossip queen with a secret regarding the school’s principal. Stumped at this conundrum, you trek up to your room to leaf through the magazines from the bookstore you bought.

You get to work creating the aspects needed to complete the scavenger hunt—a new mix CD, cut out letters, a fake newspaper crossword, and so on. After an hour or two, your energy and attention span begin to falter without food. Your eyes wander to the clock; with students back on the school’s campus, you could catch dinner before the cafeteria closes if you leave now. You toss on an oversized maroon cardigan and head downstairs.

As you wander, you wonder if Larissa will be tucked away in her office with dinner and wine like she usually is. You desperately missed the time you two would spend together. You also speculate about whether or not you two would stay friends if she rejected you. You think too highly of her to be sour if her heart does not feel the same magnetic tug that yours does.

—

The same morning as your talk with Enid, Larissa awoke in sweats. She normally regulated her body temperature well and wasn’t terribly affected by nightmares. She’d lived through enough monsters to not be effected by them in dreams. Recently, however, she had been agitated…fitful. She knew why, even though she tried to rationalize it away.

She didn’t have a lot of friendships, let alone close ones. Shapeshifters never do. That’s why she constantly worked so hard to change the perceptions of outcasts—both within and outside the community. Whatever she had with you, Larissa feared she had ruined it. At the beginning of her relationship with you, there was a feeling between you of treading carefully, of testing boundaries. When could you be silly or drop the professional façade? That hesitance quickly dissipated and was replaced with comfort and familiarity. Unfortunately, Larissa had learned to rely on it. She craved it. It balanced her. Letting others in didn’t come easily, yet it felt like you were meant to know her.

After giving it more thought, Larissa isn’t completely sure if seeing you flirt with someone made her lash out or if it was about being confronted with her own feelings for you. Regardless, the underlying fear came true—damaging her relationship with you.

Once her breathing steadied after waking, she peered around her room. Her living quarters used to feel so luxurious and private, something completely hers in a boarding school that constantly pulled her in so many directions. Now, though, all she can sense is emptiness in the space. Bitter echoes of joyous moments she had with you throughout the room lingered.

Not only did you vanish from her room and office, but she hadn’t visibly seen you since that day at the Weathervane. You were no where to be found these last couple weeks. Instead of regularly creating music in the orchestra room and popping into her office, the library, the conservatory, and student dorms, you had hidden away. She knows this, because she had asked around about you to various faculty (and even some students). Larissa’s schedule often took her throughout Nevermore, and she ached to catch a glimpse of you—check in on you in some way. It wasn’t until she stepped away from answering emails to drink tea on her balcony for a moment that she saw you. You were outside in the spring air, heading away from the school.

Larissa had never seen you in athletic clothing…mainly because you two had joked about running being a punishment, that it was often a mutually constituted performance by people who bought into traditional, often limited ideas of health. Of course, that’s not why seeing you stunned her.

Rather, her heart ached. She felt panicked, as if she should make a decision about what to do right then and there before you ran completely out of sight. With a deep, slow breath to hinder acting impulsively, Larissa began to consider her options. Is it better to swallow the hurt and try to salvage the friendship? Surely, only a friendship with you is better than being without you completely. Or would doing that and being close with no hope for a future together hurt worse? Could she handle seeing you with the florist all the time? Larissa sat her teacup down to rub her temples.

A distant knock at the door to her office pulled her away from her thoughts. She stepped inside and called for the visitor to enter. There was work to do, meetings to be held. Quickly and neatly compartmentalizing her thoughts and emotions, Larissa moved forward to greet the mayor.

—

You were in the orchestra room, arranging a new composition in preparation for the scavenger hunt. You couldn’t sleep now that you had decided on a course of action, so you decided to make use of the extra energy swirling in your stomach and radiating out through your arms and legs. Thankfully the dormitories were on the other side of Nevermore’s campus, meaning students could not overhear or be disturbed by your work. You don’t quite remember how you got across the grounds or what time you left your room. All you knew was that this was your time, your safe space.

All of the sudden you hear heels from down the corridor and know that it must be Larissa. Who else would it be? Sure enough, Larissa comes in. No hesitation in her approach. Your stomach flips, and you’re surprised she seems so confident and determined. No silk pajamas; she’s still in a work outfit. You can’t remember if you’ve seen it before. Her sense of purpose impelled you to lean the cello in your arms to it’s stand instead.

Her lips are on yours before logic can catch up with you, her hands cradling your face as if you’re something holy and sacred. You let out a surprised “mmph” but return the kiss eagerly, wrapping your arms around Larissa and inviting her closer. When your lips part ever so slightly, she deepens the kiss without delay. Her hands drift downward from your face to your neck to your arms to your outer thighs. You feel as if your heart is going to beat so quickly and become so enlarged that it will begin to break through your ribcage. Still, you wouldn’t stop this long-awaited union for anything.

Larissa’s swift hands had begun to pull you up into her arms, urging you to wrap your legs around her torso. You couldn’t bother with whether or not the cello was okay. After feeling her warmth against you, knowing she could feel the heat radiating from you too, both of your movements turned frantic. Your breath mimicked the raggedness it had from your run the other day.

“I want you. I want you. I need you.” Breathy declarations from Larissa ring out and ring throughout the room. In response, you bring her hand from the small of your back to your front, just under the edge of your shirt. The encouragement makes the taller woman whimper in between fervent kisses.

Suddenly, a deafening, reverberating crash sounds out.

Heart racing, sweaty, you jolt awake in your office chair in the orchestra room. Looking around anxiously, you see the cello you were playing on the ground, still vibrating. You must have was accidentally kicked it over in your sleep. The reddest blush plasters itself onto your cheeks. You were no stranger to dreaming of Larissa, but this is the first suggestive dream since she left you in the Weathervane. You didn’t even know someone could feel this embarrassed with no one else present. You’re alone and unsure of what time it is or what time you fell asleep after traipsing across campus. Only the quiet singing of birds outside indicated it was early morning. You normally frowned upon clocks in the classroom, but maybe you’ll rethink that now.

You look to the sheet music stand near you and find your phone. It’s dead. With a deep sigh, you gather your items and make your way to your living quarters. You need to confirm what time it is and change your clothes. Today is the day that you’re putting your scavenger hunt into motion.

—

Outside of Larissa’s office is a corkboard for Nevermore news, flyers, events, and so on that she checks daily. You post the anonymous note that serves as your first clue and fade into the stone wall behind you just as her office doors open and she steps out.

Larissa moved towards the board, not suspecting any terribly special memos pinned on a Saturday morning. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read the pasted together instructions. Larissa knew the mismatched lettering had to belong to whoever was gifting her the elaborate playlists. It was finally time to uncover the truth that she so desperately desired. She quickly glanced around to see if anyone was watching or leaving the area. …No one.

The patchwork note from cut-out magazine letters read, “Alas, it’s time to confess who I am. Come and find me if you can. I can skip but can’t walk. I’d rather sing than talk.”

A wild goose chase? Larissa considered. Truly, what can come of this? Just another CD with no confirmation of who this is? Even with her skepticism, Larissa was intrigued. She enjoyed conquering puzzles. There was something so satisfying about hunting down information and excavating the truth. With everything going on with you, Larissa welcomed a distraction, especially from someone who she considered herself to have a certain bond or connection with.

Snatching the clue from the board, Larissa retreated back to her office, abandoning her morning plans to roam among the grounds. I can skip but can’t walk…sing rather than talk…hm… Larissa mulled over the riddle. After a few moments, she can’t believe it took her this long to realize: CDs. Of course, it’s telling her to go back to the CDs. It’s where this all started. She walked over to her media player where one was already in place and started from track 1. Larissa felt as if she had committed the sounds and occasional lyrics to memory. How is there a clue here?

Pacing in front of her lit fireplace, Larissa fumbled haphazardly with the CD case in her hands as she listened with new intent. On the third turn around, her hand accidentally brushed off a sticky note that was placed on the back cover. “Wha-” she began while bending over to pick up the small piece of paper on the floor.

“Finish” she saw written on it. Finish what? A bit frustrated that she can’t make sense of the notation, she went to her desk to examine the other gifts. Sure enough, there were post-its on the backs of them as well. When read all together, they directed her to finish the newspaper crossword. Okay, so whoever this was definitely knew her routine. That’s not exactly breaking news, though. Larissa stepped out onto her balcony where she laid the newspaper next to her finished cup of tea. Flipping through to the crossword section, she saw a custom crossword tucked into the paper. In all honesty, she admired the dedication and thought that went into these clues.

Once she completed the crossword, it very obviously did not read out her admirer’s name like she had hoped. Rather, the answers prompted her to go to Jericho. Larissa pursed her lips, attempting to win against a budding smile as she shook her head. This is ridiculous. The final part of this clue spelling out Jericho also mentioned finding an outcast and a normie laughing together. Larissa didn’t know if she hated or loved that prospect, seeing as many Nevermore students had passes to Jericho this weekend. How many will be hanging out with a local, though? she asked herself while grabbing her overcoat and heading out the door.

—

“Alright, and what’s the plan?” you quizzed Enid on the ride over to Jericho.

In the passenger seat sat a wiggly werewolf who bounced her legs with excitement. In a singsong voice, she responded,“Hey now, give me some credit. I’m the one who suggested Lucas and I could give Principal Weems the next clue!”

“What if she asks who is orchestrating the scavenger hunt? How do I know you won’t crack under her prodding?” You narrow your eyes at her briefly before returning them to the road. You try to keep the tone light while still voicing your concerns.

With a small scoff, Enid confidently replies, “Please, one time Thing accidentally spilled nail polish on Wednesday’s typewriter, and I was an iron trap. If I can handle Wednesday Addams, I think I can handle Weems.” She ends the statement with her arms crossed, seemingly very proud of herself. To be fair, that was impressive. “Besides, I’m on the side of true love. This idea is so romantic!” Oh my god was all you could think to yourself at that statement. Once parked, you and Enid walk into the center of the square to wait for the normie component of this clue.

“What are we doing here again?” Lucas, the mayor’s son, questioned once he was in front of Enid. She sheepishly glanced at you and back to Lucas and then swiftly elbowed him in the side. It was kind of cute how seriously she was taking this.

You’ve done all you can do, so all you can do now is hope for the best. You put your hand on Enid’s shoulder and reassure her, “If you need anything, just give me a signal and excuse yourself. I’ll be watching from the Weathervane.” Well, mainly you’re reassuring yourself.

—

Once in Jericho, Larissa felt it an insurmountable task to search every store and outdoor area for the right outcast and normie. It didn’t help that she automatically parked in her usual spot, which happened to be by the flower shop. Getting out of her car, Larissa saw that very florist outside, pruning and watering plants. He noticed her and waved. She could feel a scowl on her lips, so she looked away, pretending to not have seen his friendly gesture. At least that’s one person that the admirer couldn’t be…

Having walked past the flower shop, Larissa cups her hands over her eyes to look inside Uriah’s Heap. She can’t imagine a normie having fun in the morbid antique shop, but she’s nothing if not thorough. After being satisfied that Uriah’s Heap did not contain her next clue, Larissa turned around to consider where to search next.

Before she can decide to go into another store, she sees Enid. Actually, she sees multiple Nevermore students. It’s a beautiful day, and many students want to make the most of their time before classes officially begin. Curiously, though, all of the other students are with Nevermore peers, and here is Enid with the mayor’s son. Larissa wouldn’t have pegged them to be friends.

Attempting to take control of the situation, Larissa came straight up to them. “Enid? Young Mr. Walker?”

“Principal Weems! Wow. Hi!”

For a brief moment, Larissa considered if running into them was a red herring. There was always a possibility that at a boarding school, the person sending her gifts and love notes could be a student with a harmless crush. Could Enid be the admirer? Larissa had always considered Enid to be like a daughter or menteé. She had felt protective of her, especially when Enid’s own mother made some questionable choices at the last parents’ weekend. Larissa pushed the thought to the furthest recesses of her mind; the person from those letters had a connection with her that no one else compared to. Well, almost no one else.

“What are you-” Larissa began but was cut off by Enid’s excited voice. “You should try to find the building with the most stories!”

“I assume this is the next clue?” Larissa stood in the familiar pose she often used to command attention. Combined with her height and immaculate dress, it simply wasn’t hard. “Enid, I’m terribly busy with finalizing spring semester contracts, schedules, and arrangements. I need to know who has enlisted your help. I know you know more than you are letting on.”

In an effort to be defiant, Enid asked, “What do you mean, Principal Weems? What help?” Her face gave her away, though. Her lips were pressed together firmly, as if she was attempting to hold back a grin.

Larissa considered escalating, but before she could, the young girl interrupted again with a determined look, “Remember, find the building with the most stories.” With that, she grabbed Lucas’s wrist and skipped off, pulling him behind her. All Larissa heard was next was a distant, “Byeeeeee, Principal Weems!”

Larissa is a bit surprised Enid could hold out, but the young werewolf’s evasiveness helped in that regard. Sitting underneath her gaze made Enid uncomfortable. Larissa remembers a time when she pressed the girl on Wednesday’s whereabouts the night Crackstone’s crypt flooded and the water was dyed red. Enid promptly confessed after Larissa put on a semi-firm voice and a stern look of disappointment.

Back to this never ending task of uncovering the identity of her secret admirer, Larissa thought. Bars have quite a lot of stories… The only bar in Jericho is the Rabbit’s Foot Tavern, and the only tales it holds are repetitive small town musings and desires to leave the town behind.

Though it seems like a long shot, it’s her only lead. As Larissa headed in the direction of the bar, she began to pass the bookstore. She only made it two more feet before she stopped in her tracks. There are thousands of stories there!

Feeling pleased with herself, she steps inside only to be met with a tired clerk that is paid too little to care about town shenanigans. The worker behind the counter gives Larissa a sticky note with specific numbers from the Dewey Decimal System. He doesn’t even look up from his phone. Larissa blinks slowly and gestures appreciatively before she heads to the 700s, somewhere in Arts & Recreation.

The “book” that she finds at the detailed location is actually a mix CD on the shelf disguised as a musicology textbook. Torn between feeling excited to have a new playlist and determined the find the next clue, Larissa pushes herself to continue and try to examine the cover, rather than only appreciating it. The track listing is unlike the previous CDs, so she begins to break down what she assumes is a code. Finally, Larissa cracks it: “Make a wish, but don’t take a drink.”

—

Once you watch Larissa disappear inside the bookstore, you leap into action. Hopefully you’ll have enough time to sit out all the lilies before she figures out the next clue. Thankfully, Enid offers to help (and makes Lucas assist). Even James briskly walks over with an armful of lilies. You appreciate the kind gestures and make a mental note to send everyone thank you after this is all over. You’re not sure how long it takes, but your calves and lower back ache from the manual labor. You all successfully sit out hundreds of lilies planted in recycled Weathervane cups. Thank goodness the new barista, Emily, was on board to save as many used paper cups as she could throughout her shifts over the week.

When Larissa makes her way to the town square fountain from the bookstore, you are safely back inside the Weathervane, becoming more and more anxious as you realize she is so close to finding out you’re completely smitten with her and have been keeping it from her. However, she stands at the fountain, unmoving, for much longer than anticipated.

Larissa did not expect this—the humble lily of the valley, her favorite flower. She had never been gifted them. When she was younger and pining after Morticia, Larissa remembered getting the other woman an entire slew of flowers. Dark, moody flowers. Orchids. Carnivorous plants. Anything she thought Morticia would like. In return, when Morticia asked about Larissa’s favorite flower, she ended up giving her lilies. Larissa thought lilies were beautiful, but she had always adored lily of the valley. It hurt that Morticia did not care enough to get her the correct flowers, because it symbolized so much more when it came to their relationship.

The lily of the valley is always overlooked, considered modest and unimposing. Of all people Larissa thought Morticia would appreciate that every single aspect of the flower is poisonous. Now Larissa is at a loss for who arranged this scavenger hunt, because she hasn’t told a soul about what this flower means to her in years. Before she can intervene, tears begin to fall from Larissa’s eyes, staining her face. Sitting on the edge of the fountain, surrounded by hundreds of lily of the valley, Larissa takes a few minutes to appreciate the flowers, almost as if she is mending her relationship to them.

After awhile, Larissa stands, smooths out the creases in the front of her clothes and takes a deep, filling breath in. As she can infer from the cups, the next stop is the Weathervane.

At the Weathervane, Larissa takes notice that it is unusually empty for a Saturday. She strolls around the counter and then the seating areas, examining the area for any clues. Her eyes glance quite a bit to the booth she normally shares with you. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary except for the much smaller amount of people she would expect.

When Larissa internally questions if this is the wrong destination, the barista calls out “Larissa” and sits a mug in the “pick-up” area before going back to make the rest of the drinks in the queue. Scrawled on the cup are the words “sit where you are most comfortable.” That doesn’t seem like much of a clue, she surmises incredulously.

The task at hand proves to be more difficult than expected. Larissa looks to her regular booth, the one you two often shared. Is that where I am most comfortable? She wants to face the door, to surveil the inside of the café for any changes. However, she normally lets you sit in that direction; Larissa liked to have her focus on you instead of the bustling environment. Longing for that familiarity wins out, and Larissa takes a seat facing the back of the Weathervane.

No more clues. You knew that was the last one. Once Larissa sits in her usual spot, you phase through the back wall near the bulletin board. Astonished, the taller woman steps up and out of the seat with a slight gasp.

Before preparing to explain the past several months and your previously concealed ability, you proclaim, in what you hope is the most impressive way possible, “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but you owe me a hot chocolate date.”

You slide into the booth opposite to Larissa, waiting for her to sit back down.

—

Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @justcallmelittleone, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @one-pining-queer, @kimiinou, @bobia13, @gwendolinechristieiscute, @kay-liah-scope, @readingtheentrails, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @weemssapphic, @ctrlamira, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @winterfireblond, @gwendolinechristiesnumberonegirl. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged or have your tag taken off future posts. :)

#love notes #chapter 6 #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal weems #larissa x reader #principal larissa weems #wednesday #ao3 #fanfiction #gwendoline christie #music teacher #nevermore academy #boss/employee relationship #principal/teacher #mix cd #slow burn #mutual pining #angst #we have lift off!!!! #scavenger hunt

[loulouwrites]

Secrets . Tommy Shelby

summary: tommy shelby is dead, and his life has just begun

warnings: angst, talk of death, grief, post season 6, abuse, discussions of domestic violence, unedited,tommy shelby having a normal job? lmk if i missed any!

word count: 5k

Death was no stranger to Thomas Shelby.

He had killed more men than he could count, he had lost more friends than he cared to remember, and he had died six months ago - at least, that's what everybody thought.

He wondered if he should have felt more guilty. He was sure his family had grieved him - he hoped they had, anyway - but he would not blame them if they hadn't.

He imagined, as they grieved them, relief also passed through them, he imagined them feeling guilty for thinking such a thing. He knew Ada would feel terrible, shake the thought out of her head, but it would be there.

Thomas Shelby was dead, and that meant his terrible legacy died with him.

He didn't feel anything when he thought about his family's reaction, because his was the same. He grieved the loss of himself, he grieved those he loved that were still living, knowing he would never see them again. He grieved the dead, his dead wife, his precious daughter that was taken before her life truly began, and he grieved that he was not going to see them for a long time. But, admist his grief, that wave of relief washed over him, he felt his stomach untwist, he felt the weight on his shoulders disappear, and for the first time in a long time, he felt free.

For the first time in his life, he was exactly where he needed to be.

Alone.

Nobody here knew his real name, nobody knew what he had done, and most importantly, nobody cared.

The first month he had has been dead, he had met a group of travellers, they had welcomed him into their camp with open arms and open bottles of cheap whiskey. He had been lucky they didn't recognise him, the community being so small, but by some miracle, they didn't.

He didn't stay long, the group was too insular, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they ran into a group who did know who he was, and who would tell anybody who would listen that the dead Thomas Shelby OBE, was not actually dead.

The second month, he had travelled north and had worked on the shipyards in the North East. They were used to all kinds of people travelling there for work and leaving after a few months to move on to bigger and better things - he had lasted two weeks.

Thomas Shelby was no fool. He had no need to work jobs on shipyards or factories. He had given his businesses away, he had buried his titles with him, but there was always Shelby money somewhere, hidden in different parts of Birmingham, money that was meant to stay hidden.

Enough to allow him live comfortably for the rest of his life.

The third and fourth months were spent collecting that money and trying to find something to do with it.

He was not a man that was made to relax. He didn't enjoy sitting, or reading, or any leisurely activities, he was born to work. He had always been like that, always working towards something, always reaching towards a goal, but he had done everything a man could do, and now, it was time to rest.

He liked living in the countryside. He had thought it might be too dangerous, too many nosy neighbours and friendly questions, but not too many people passed through, and those that did didn't care about where he came from, they tended to just ask him for directions to the nearest town.

He lived a lonely life, and he liked it that way.

He did have one friend. When solitude became too much, even for him, he would venture the two miles to the nearest house, where a charming elderly widow named Pearl lived.

Pearl was nearing seventy-five. She had lived for two centuries, she had seen a queen die, a king crowned, she had seen her sons shipped off to war and never return, and she had seen many liars in her time. And yet, she did not suspect the nice man who lived close by to be anything but an honourable, young man.

Pearl's husband had died almost twenty years ago, and she had seen the look of a bereft spouse on Tommy Shelby's face the moment she had seen him - but she never asked him about it. They didn't talk much over the dinners Pearl would prepare, they didn't really need to, they had both talked enough in their time.

It was a chilly night when Tommy approached Pearl's little cottage. He always came to dinner on the last Sunday of the month, how that habit had formed, he had no idea.

The old woman had greeted him with a smile at the door, waving him inside where it was warm and inviting, the smell of her cooking a warm welcome.

He had barely sat down on the wooden chair at the foot of the table when a crash came from the adjacent kitchen, and he had shot the woman fussing over him a questioning look, to which he shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Pearl," a woman's voice called from the kitchen, the door swinging open "I broke two of your plates." The woman stopped in the doorway when she noticed Tommy sat at the table, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

Pearl waved a dismissive hand at the woman, patting Tommy on the shoulder and waving her over to the table, encouraging her to take a seat.

"It's only a couple of plates," Pearl said, "I have too many, anyways." She pointed to the woman that had gingerly sat down to the right of Tommy, introducing her before disappearing into the kitchen to plate up their dinner, "she's a family friend and will be staying with me for a while."

"Pearl has spoke of you very fondly, Tom." The woman smiled, leaning forward in her chair.

Tommy hadn't bothered to change his forename.

"I'm glad to hear it," Tommy grabbed the glass of water that Pearl had placed on the table before he had arrived, "she hasn't mentioned you before, though."

Tommy was good at reading people, always had been, and he didn't miss the way the woman's red painted lips tightened, her smile slightly straining at his words.

"I should be offended." She let out a huff of laughter, "I always thought Pearl and I were close."

"Not as close as I am with Pearl." Tommy joked, noticing the woman's posture relax as she leaned back in her chair.

"Yes, well, Pearl makes friends very easily. I don't think she has ever met stranger."

Tommy smiled at the woman's words, his eyes flickering across her face. She was pretty, her makeup was perfectly applied to her face and her hair was immaculately styled, even the red varnish on her nails was perfect.

She shifted under his gaze, and Tommy realised he hadn't spoken in at least a minute, and he cleared his throat, embarrassed at what he was sure she thought was him leering.

The awkward atmosphere was thankfully broken by Pearl reentering the room, her hands full as she balanced three plates in her arms. Tommy was quick to jump out, taking the plates from the older woman and setting them on the table.

The dinner conversation was more lively than it usually was when Tommy visited, Pearl seemingly thrilled at having another presence at the table, so much so, the two younger people in the room could barely get a word in for the entire meal.

Pearl had excused herself after dinner, claiming it was too late for a woman her age, and insisting her two friends make themselves a cup of tea before Tom headed home.

The clattering of cups on saucers were all that could be heard in the living room, the awkward tension returning as they sat on the sofa.

She reached over to the side table, retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, offering one to Tommy, which he declined with a shake of his head, though he did inhale extra hard when the smoke drifted his way.

"You and Pearl have become quite close." She said eventually, flicking the ashes of her cigarette into the crystal ashtray on the coffee table.

"Oh, we're the best of friends." Tommy nodded, his voice flat, but his eyes carrying a glimmer of humour that she clearly picked up on, her lips curling into a smile.

"I'm almost jealous."

"Of me?" Tommy raised his eyebrows, "or of Pearl?"

Her laugh was one of the best things he had heard in a long time.

"I suppose it must be nice having a friend, it's so rural here, it must get lonely."

"Loneliness isn't always a bad thing." Tommy muttered, and she didn't miss the bitterness in his tone.

"I suppose you're right," she sighed, taking a drag of her cigarette, "as long as you choose it."

Tommy hummed in response, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. "Why are you here?" He didn't mean for the question to sound so abrupt, he meant to ask it in a friendly manner, instead it came out like an interrogation, and her eyebrows raised in surprised.

"Pearl is an old family friend, she offered me somewhere to stay for a while."

"For a while?" Tommy asked, "won't your husband miss you?"

He flinched at his words. Subtle.

"I'm not married," she offered him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "what about you? Pearl told me you live alone."

"Widowed." Tommy shrugged, and she nodded in response, but she didn't say anything, she didn't offer him her condolences, or ask what happened, and he would be eternally grateful for that.

He saw himself out a few moments later, thanking her for the tea, and telling her to thank Pearl for the lovely meal.

"It was very nice to meet you...Tom..."

"Smith." Tommy answered from the front door.

He had never had a very good imagination.

◇─◇──◇─◇

He saw her again three days later. It was Wednesday when she arrived at his door, holding a basket of rock cakes in her hand, pushing past him into his house before he had time to protest.

The house was unbearably plain. He hadn't bothered to decorate the place, keeping the furniture that was there when he had purchased it. He watched as she took in the living room, her head moving around, taking in the bare walls and dated carpet.

He imagined it looked strange, there was not one personal touch in the entire house, no paintings, no photographs, just the daily newspaper thrown on the table in the corner.

"I love what you've done with the place." Her tone was so serious, Tommy almost thought she was being genuine, and his eyes widened until she turned her head to meet his gaze, a smirk on her perfectly painted list.

"I've been known to have an eye for interior design." He smirked back, and she snorted at his words.

"Pearl sent me." She held up the basket in her hand, "she made too many."

"You'd think she would no portion control by now." He said, taking the basket from her and setting it on the table, next to the unread newspaper.

"I think she made the specially for you." She smiled, "it's nice."

"It is." Tommy agreed and she began walking around the living room, a frown on her face.

"What do you do?" She asked eventually, her tone incredulous. He frowned at her words, his face questioning. "I mean...there are no books, no writing materials...what do you do all day?"

Tommy considered his response, but what could he say? 'I spend all my time pondering every mistake I have ever made?' 'All I do is wonder what my family are doing at this very moment?' 'I wish I was actually dead?'

He just shrugged.

"Do you not get bored?" She sounded truly concerned about him.

"Only boring people get bored." He told her, his mother had told him that when he was young.

"Now I see why you're so fond of Pearl. She's the only entertainment you have."

"She's more than enough." Tommy joked dryly, and she smirked at him, a knowing look on her face.

"Well...have a good day." She made her way to his front door, "God knows how."

The door had closed behind her before he could respond.

He didn't go and see Pearl that night, instead choosing to walk through the empty fields surrounding his property. He enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere at night here. The sky was clear, there was no city fog or grime that hid the stars in the sky, the air was crisp and fresh, not assaulting his lungs as he walked. It allowed him time to think, but he didn't think about the bad things outside, those were reserved for the confines of his house.

When he was out in the calm of nature, he allowed himself to think about the good things, few as they were.

When he returned to his house, he almost missed the object that had been placed on his front step, he would have if he hadn't tripped over it when he went to unlock his front door.

He picked up the object as if it were a bomb, rather than the leather-bound book it was, holding it between his thumb and forefinger with a frown on his face.

Jane Eyre.

He couldn't help but huff out a laugh.

◇─◇──◇─◇

"Did you like it?" She asked him two weeks later. Tommy didn't know they had ended up walking together every lunchtime on a Saturday, but he couldn't find a reason to complain.

"No." He huffed, "I didn't like Jane Eyre either, by the way."

She rolled her eyes at his words, not phased by his clear displeasure. She had started leaving books on his doorstep every week. The first had been Jane Eyre, which Tommy had read in only three days, not pleased by the story one bit. The second had been a Charles Dickens novel that he had already read years ago, and he didn't like it the first time either.

"I'm starting to think you don't like much." She grumbled, nudging his shoulder with hers as they walked down the country road.

"That's not true, at all." He said, placing a hand on her lower back, rubbing circles there. They both stopped walking, heads turned to face each other, he leaned his head in, their foreheads almost touching. He noted the nervous look in her eyes, how her body stiffened under his touch, "I like Pearl." He removed his hand from her back, continuing his stroll, smirking when he heard her modest heels clicking against the pavement as she tried to catch up with him.

"You have a terrible sense of humour." She huffed, a smile on her lips.

◇─◇──◇─◇

She became a regular fixture in Tommy's life. He saw her more often than he saw Pearl, for she would venture to his house whenever she felt like it, asking him his opinions on the books she had given him, sometimes she would turn up with flowers and plants to 'brighten the room'.

He didn't mind it as much as he thought he would. She wasn't an imposition in his life, she didn't ask him questions about his life, she didn't pry when his mind seemed to be elsewhere, she kept their conversations to the books they had read and their upcoming meals at Pearl's house.

If he were still a suspicious man, he would have found it strange.

Why was she so disinterested in his past?

Was it because she didn't want him to be interested in hers?

But, he wasn't that man anymore, and he learned to be grateful for their encounters, no matter how shallow they were.

She eyed him suspiciously from across his kitchen table, the china cup hiding the bottom half of her face. She had become quite good at reading him over the months, she could tell when he wanted to say something, and when he didn't.

"What's on your mind?" She placed the cup down, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Where are you from?" He asked her, his expression blank, not suspicious, but not completely uninterested, either.

"South."

"South." Tommy repeated, nodding his head.

"Where are you from?"

"North."

"North." She replicated his nod.

"Why did you move here?"

"I got sick of the city, Pearl offered me a place to stay at hers."

"You didn't work?"

"No." She sighed, bringing her cup of tea to her lips again.

"You've never been married and you didn't work. Family money?"

"Something like that." She shrugged and Tommy could see the irritation growing on her face.

"Must have been a lonely life."

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" She stood up from her seat them, brushing out the small creases in her green dress, her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but she shook her head, grabbing her handbag and leaving the kitchen.

Tommy felt guilty, but he didn't try to stop her.

◇─◇──◇─◇

He didn't see her for another few days. He knew she was avoiding him, it didn't surprise him when she didn't show up for their afternoon walk the next day, or when Pearl informed him she hadn't been feeling well so she wouldn't be joining them for dinner.

Pearl didn't miss the way his shoulder's deflated when she informed him.

Tommy didn't miss the ghost of a smirk on Pearl's face.

He saw her again exactly one week after she had stormed out of his kitchen. He had ventured into the nearest town to buy the essentials he had run out of over the past month, when he saw her, she was exiting the bakery.

She stood out like a sore thumb in the rural town. Her blue button up dress was cinched at the waist, the hat she wore was perfectly placed on top of the fashionable waves of her hair.

She didn't look like she belonged in the countryside, better suited for the nicer streets of London, or even, New York.

Tommy supposed he didn't particularly fit in either.

He approached her as she was about to enter the post office, offering to take the string shopping bag from her arms, which she declined with a polite smile.

He followed her into the post office, lagging behind due to the multiple women exiting, thanking him for holding the door.

He stood by the entrance, watching as passed along letters to the man at the desk, reaching to her purse to pay for the postage, plus a pack of cigarettes and some cherry drops.

He held the door open for her when she left, struggling to keep up with her quick steps.

"I thought you had no family." Tommy said, her pace slowing, making it easier for him to walk by her side.

"I didn't say that." She muttered, her gaze fixed ahead of her, "I said I had no husband. We all have family, Mr Smith."

"No all of us."

"Aren't you a widow?" She frowned, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze, "you had no children?"

The word got stuck in Tommy's mouth, "no." He flinched at how small his voice sounded.

"No brothers, sisters, parents?"

"No."

She didn't pry, she just nodded, letting a comfortable silence take over as they walked home.

She invited him in when they got to Pearl's cottage, informing him the elderly woman was in Brighton for the weekend, visiting her sister who had recently fallen ill.

He had gracefully accepted, helping her unpack the numerous shopping bags in the kitchen, and offering to help her cook dinner, but she shook him off, telling him she cooked better alone.

She wasn't as good of a chef as Pearl, Tommy noted as he struggled to cut his lamb, the meat slipping along the plate with the force.

She grimaced when the glasses shook on the table, a clear indication she had cooked the meat half an hour too long.

"I'm sorry." She sighed, "I've never been a good cook, or good hostess."

He waved a dismissive hand at her, finally gathering a cut of lamb on his fork, trying not to chew too aggressively under her watchful gaze.

"You don't have to eat it." She told him, setting her knife and fork down, "God knows I'm not going to."

"It's...good." Tommy said, trying to discreetly pick out the tough meat from his teeth with his tongue, she shot him an unimpressed look, and he huffed a laugh. "I've had worse."

"Hopefully Pearl will be home soon, I'm going to starve if she isn't."

"I could do with some starvation, I've had to get my trousers let out since I moved here."

"I lied." She said suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, and Tommy's eyes squinted in confusion.

"I'd say you were truthful...you really aren't a good cook."

"No." She groaned, sipping the red wine she had poured for herself, "I lied to you...about my life."

"I'm not trying to be funny, love, but you haven't told me anything about your life."

Her expression relaxed somewhat as she looked at him, but he could still see the worry in her eyes.

"I did. I said I've never been married."

She rose up from the table, pacing the small dining area with a sheepish expression on her face. Tommy breathed out heavily, gently placing his knife and fork on his plate as he watched her.

"You have been married?" He asked, not enjoying the way his stomach faintly twisted. He barely knew this woman, he had no right to feel betrayed because she had lied to him.

"I have been." She muttered, and his eyes narrowed further, but he didn't respond. "I mean...I am? Still...I think?"

"You think?" Tommy finally spoke, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and concern. He stood up from the table, mirroring her pacing movements as he tried to make sense of it all. "What do you mean you think you're still married? You either are or you aren't."

"I am." She spoke with conviction, halting her pacing to face him from the opposite side of the table. "I am still married."

"Why did you lie?" Tommy's words came out harsh, though he truly didn't mean them to. He had no right to judge her, he was just as bad, but he couldn't help but feel offended by her deception.

She looked down, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of her wine glass. "I didn't mean to lie, it was just easier than the truth."

Tommy knew exactly what she meant.

"My husband wasn't kind," she continued, "he didn't physically harm me, but it would only have been a matter of time. He would find me if I stayed with my family, so I came here."

She didn't owe him an explanation, and Tommy was rather floored she had given him one.

He knew what the old him would do.

He could feel the primal, violent desires he thought had died rise up inside of him.

But, he wasn't that man anymore.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked her finally, moving to stand directly in front of her.

She shrugged at his words, "I don't know. I just don't like secrets."

Tommy felt a pang in his stomach.

"Everybody has secrets, love."

"Even you?"

"Even me."

◇─◇──◇─◇

Something changed following their conversation over dinner. Whilst Tommy assumed she would pull away from him, they seemed to get closer over the weeks.

Tommy wasn't sure whether he wanted to spend so much time with her, but he didn't put up much of a fight. He should have felt guilty about it, she had told him her secret, and he was still clinging on to his.

There were many times he thought about telling her, like on the walk they took where it started to rain and they had to run back to his, or when she brought him extra scones Pearl had made, or when she was lying with her head against his bare chest on a Sunday morning, but he never did.

They were just passing time.

That's what she had said before she left his house one morning. They were both lonely, neither of them had anything better to do, they were doing each other a favour.

"How did you get your money?" She asked him as she buttoned up her blue dress.

He choked on his cigarette smoke.

"What do you mean?" He asked, once his wheezing had subsided, standing from the bed to get dressed.

"You bought a cute little home in the countryside, but you don't work...I'm curious."

There was nothing hidden behind her smile. She wasn't asking for any reason other than wanting to know more about him.

The guilt returned to his gut.

"Gambling." He shrugged, buttoning up his shirt, his cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Gambling?"

"Horses...got lucky."

It wasn't exactly a lie.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Tommy enjoyed his mornings with her. He enjoyed the simplicity of waking up slowly, lighting a cigarette as he looked down at her sleeping form. He always woke up before her - he didn't sleep well, she was a master at it - and he liked it that way.

"I feel like we're abandoning Pearl." He told her, watching as she rubbed sleep from her eyes at the kitchen table, accepting the cup of tea he placed down in front of her, raising an eyebrow when she declined the toast and marmalade, reaching for a biscuit off the plate in the middle of the table instead.

"Tea and biscuits is the best breakfast you can have." She had told him.

"You're abandoning Pearl." She said, "I live with her."

"You haven't been home in days."

"That's your fault." She told him, "you're the one that trapped me here."

"I trapped you here, did I?"

"You make such good cups of tea, it makes it hard to go home."

Tommy hummed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Pearl does use too much milk."

"Exactly. You've spoiled me." She smirked, standing from her seat. "But you're right...I should go home." She brushed his shoulder when she passed him, "I'll see you around, Mr Smith."

He made sure to kiss her before she left.

◇─◇──◇─◇

The three days without her allowed Tommy time to think.

He enjoyed his time with her, but he could never seem to think clearly when he was in her presence. Her charm and wit would cloud any thought he had until he was utterly consumed by her.

It wasn't much different when she was gone, either.

His thoughts were still entirely made up of her - he wondered if it was because her floral perfume still lingered on his pillow - but he was able to properly assess the past few months.

He remembered how hollow he had been. How there was nothing to think about but the ghosts of his past, how he would tremble when he remembered the things he had seen, and the things he had done.

He remembered how she had changed that.

Now the haunting memories only came back in hushed whispers, whispers he could easily ignore when her laugh was so much louder, her presence much more dominating.

He wondered if he could love somebody he barely knew. Somebody who didn't know him at all.

Of course she knew small things.

She knew he preferred jam on his toast, she knew he didn't like sugar in his tea - a fact she had been horrified to learn - and she knew he was haunted.

She never asked him about it, but she knew. She couldn't ignore the way the nightmares made him shake, she couldn't ignore his body feeling like a furnace under her perfectly manicured fingers.

She didn't ask him, but he offered her an answer anyways.

He paced the floor of his bedroom, his breathing finally returning to normal, his eyes meeting hers from where she was sat up on the bed, her eyes concerned.

"France." He had muttered, returning to his spot in bed beside her.

She said nothing, instead, laying her head back on the pillow, her hand resting on his chest, above his rapidly beating heart.

It wasn't exactly a lie.

He pondered the timeline of their relationship as he walked to Pearl's house on a chilly Sunday evening.

They didn't know each other, not really, that was the beauty of it. She didn't know who Tommy really was, but she knew enough to feel safe with him. He didn't know much about her past, but he knew enough to know she could be trusted.

He didn't know much about her.

Yet, Tommy loved her anyway.

It was a strange feeling. He felt lighter, he felt happier, but there was still the guilt.

She had not offered him more information than was needed.

He had outright lied to her.

And so, as he approached the neighbouring house, Tommy decided he would tell her. He would tell her his real name, he would tell her what he had done, and he would tell her loved her.

There was no anxiety when he got to the front door, knocking lightly, even though Pearl had told him there was no need to. There was no need to feel anxious, because he was sure she felt the same - and he was certain, no matter what, she would not betray him.

Pearl greeted him with a smile, ushering him in as she always did. His eyes darted around the living room as he shrugged off his coat, the room looked the same as it always did, but something felt different.

He offered to help Pearl, knowing she would decline as always, pushing him towards the dining area.

He frowned when he got to the table, his eyes lingering on it for a moment too long.

It was set for two.

He glanced at the older woman in a silent questioning, and she sighed heavily under his gaze.

"She went home, son." She said, reaching over to rub his arm, a maternal comfort.

He knew she could see the confusion on his face, whether she could see the devastation and betrayal, he did not know.

"When?" He managed to ask, his throat dry.

"Two days ago." Pearl said, gently pushing Tommy into his seat at the head of the table. "Husband came up to get her, took her back."

He wished the woman had punched him in the stomach.

"And you let her go?" His voice held no venom, he was simply deflated in the chair.

"You can't force a woman to stay somewhere she doesn't want to, my love. No matter how much you want to."

She didn't wait for him to respond, leaving the room to plate up their dinner. Tommy's eyes stayed fixed on the place she would be sitting if she were here, his eyes not wavering from the empty chair.

It would have been easy to be sad.

It would have even easier to be angry.

But, he felt nothing.

She was just another ghost that would haunt him in his nightmares, and if that were the only way he would see her again, he looked forward to them.

He could not feel betrayed by her.

He was the liar, after all.

#tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

[daisiesonafield-blog]

Pure facts on DWD:

link

Transcript because SHE SPOKE FACTS NO BULLSHIT:

Here's my opinion. Actually, we can start with facts:

I don't wanna see this movie. I'm tired of hearing about this movie. Everything I've learned about this movie has been against my will. It's been 2 years of pre-release fatigue. I'm tired of the PR stunts, I'm tired of the obvious photo ops, I'm tired of the press leaks, I'm tired of the on set leaks, I'm tired of the "anonymous sources", I'm tired of all of it. Any interest I might've had in this movie doesn't exist anymore.

This film went into production in 2020 during a time when every single studio was panicked and desperate to figure out how they were gonna survive the pandemic. With theaters being closed, everything shut down, them losing money to streaming services. And the PR campaign for this film, which started during casting, is a direct reflection of that [studios being panicked].

Again, the budget is small, it's a $20 million dollar budget, it's not a ton of money in movie-money, and they're obviously supplementing that small budget with a never-ending PR campaign to make up for it. (edit: it went over budget to 30-40M! All the more reason for the excessive PR).

On to my opinion:

1 - Harry and Olivia are obviously in a PR relationship.

2 - The movie is not gonna do well. It's gonna tank.

3 - Florence comes off looking great. I don't know her that well, I've seen her in a few movies, she's not my generation, but whenever I see her mentioned, whether she's being slighted or supported in the PR campaign, I think she comes off looking fine. Love that she's also pretty silent in terms of press. This film wrapped a year ago (edit: it was 2 years ago) and she's probably moved on to better things at this point, and will probably just do her minimal press, which is fine. She, despite being the lead actress of this film, does not have as much at stake as the stunt queens, Harry and Olivia do.

4 - General opinion on Olivia Wilde: I'm more the same age. I remember back when she was just a rich girl socialite in NY. I love that she's into acting and into directing. But, I know she directed this film....I dated a director one time, and when his film went into post-production I didn't see that man for months because he was locked in an editing bay and would not come out for air. This chick [Olivia] was on tour with Harry Styles 2 months after production wrapped, I don't know how that worked. (edit: it was 6 months but she still fucked off to England the day after production wrapped, and the film needed extensive edits and was delayed so yeah...she was not "directing" anything really). Also, as a director she is behind the camera role, but her PR team are dead set on over-saturating her in media as the face of this title. Even putting her out more so than the actual actors in the film. Which is weird. There's a word for it, I can't figure it out (edit: I can, it's narcissism. You're welcome.). She's all up in the video, all up in the studio, all up in the radio...it's like...just say this is your vanity project and move on.

5 - Harry Styles: there is no way in god's green earth that a role that Shia Labeouf was cast in could be back-filled by Harry Styles. Harry Styles is youth marketing - that is simply it.

6 - Shia Labeouf is right. I'm sure that when Shia quit this film the studio was desperate and panicked, and went into a tailspin and said 'figure out a way to save it or we're pulling the plug'. And just like Shia has a video of Olivia begging him to stay, I'm sure Harry has a video of Olivia begging him to join this film.

#I ONLY SEE FACTS #olivia wilde is a narcissistic asshole #fuck you olivia wilde #welcome to showbiz #welcome to hollywood #dwd promo #holivia #PR stunts #shia labeouf #florence pugh #warner bros #the real olivia wilde #aug 31 2022 #aug 2022

[dangertoozmanykids101]

6:30a Coyotes yipping & yapping behind our house to the left.

sound only-cant see 'em

The video of my bone dry neglected back yard doesn't really count as "video". This was about recording the coyote sounds. No visuals of the coyotes. They're somewhere in the brush of the open space land behind us. A mix of chaparral shrubland and grasses.

The coyotes just kept talking and talking and talking. What's funny is that an ambulance drove by on the main road down the hill. You guessed it - the siren totally set them off. At first the siren was louder, but I had to do a double take because I swore that the sirens sounded like a whining animal. As the ambulance got further away, the coyotes continued yipping for at least 10 to 15 minutes maybe.

I took video for about a minute, then hubby and I just sat there, ate breakfast and listened to these little guys yip up a storm.

I've never heard coyotes so close to the house before. A couple lots behind us are vacant and across the street from those lots open space continues up the hill and connects as corridors between several large Open Space Preserves, so we have lots of wildlife. One of our neighbors has even caught a mountain lion on their dash cam several months ago. WHOA! So exciting!

You can also hear a red shouldered hawk in the video. Can't see it, but you can hear it. A pair lives in the grove of eucalyptus trees across the street from us. I have enjoyed listening to them daily since the day we moved in 19 years ago.

I've tagged a few buddies who I think might get a kick out of hearing my morning coffee chatter. Specifically — our beautiful community lives all over the world. I feel strongly that the tiny details of our lives make us the same and make us different, and I love to share those. In fact I'm head over heels anytime someone shares little details of life somewhere else: slice of life details. My excitement is both from a personal perspective as well as from a writing and reading perspective.

@ladyoftheteaandblood @nildespirandum @caffiend-queen @acidcasualties @gigglingtiggerv2 @americasass81 @muddyorbs @mochie85 @talklokitome @emeraldrosequartz @latent-thoughts @mooncat163 @devikafernando @so-easy-to-love-me @lokisgoodgirl @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @myoxisbroken @jtargaryen18 @imanuglywombat @redfoxwritesstuff @bluestaratsunrise @alexakeyloveloki @boredbrooder @mastreworld @nonsensicalobsessions @deceitfuldevout @punemy-spotted @georgiapeach30513 @spectre-posts @wiypt-writes @wolfsmom1

If you don't want to be tagged on my random ramblings like this, just holler. If you are interested in my rabbit holes of the day and want to be tagged, just holler.

#coyote sounds #coyotes #coyotes yipping #toozmanykids #red shoulder hawk call

[butterflydm]

wot rewatch (book spoilers edition): 2x3

And here are my additional thoughts that contain spoilers through all the teasers and the books through book 13: A Memory of Light.

I was watching show-only reviews to try to figure out if it's safe to call Ishy 'Ishamael' yet but reaction seems mixed on whether or not Moiraine's words clued people in on the situation, so I'm going to stay ambiguous about him in my book spoiler-free posts for now.

I loved the changes that the show made to all Nynaeve's tests. They all make sense in context of the show and Nynaeve's character, they all tell us something about her, and there's also some great connective threads between them. We've known for a while (or guessed) that her first test would take place when she was a kid because her mom appeared in the casting lists... quite a few months ago. Ages ago. But I definitely prefer this one to the book version. It was so heartrending and touching.

2. The crimsonthorn strand throughout the tests is very interesting to me. I talked about this in the other post, but on a more spoilerly note, I like that the show is not defaulting to "all the Wondergirls feel a draw towards Green because They Like Men" and that Nynaeve is actually getting tugged between Yellow and Red in these last two episodes, as Liandrin tries to influence her. It makes me wonder if maybe they'll have Elayne incline towards maybe Brown ("I like to tinker with things") instead of Green. Though Nynaeve did put Egwene in the Green Ajah in her personal AU (which did such a good job in only using elements that Nynaeve was aware of when she went into the arches! No Elayne in Nynaeve's AU; and no Rand because she believes him to be dead).

4. Side note: thrilled that Nynaeve does not have to be naked for the test. The amount of times that women have to strip down for rituals in the books gets pretty ridiculous (especially when men doing the same kind of ritual -- ex. going to Rhuidean -- does not require them to strip). Stripping down to her shift makes the point well enough.

5. A thought I had about the people attacking the Two Rivers -- could this have been happening during the Andoran Succession Crisis that led to Morgase being Queen? And so the Queen's Guard, instead of keeping the roads clear of bandits, were busy with the civil war among the nobility, which let bandits get even as far as the Mountains of Mist. That could actually serve as a really good reason for the Two Rivers to basically nope out of being part of Andor -- "you were so busy squabbling amongst yourself that you let bandits rove the lands and kill innocent people". I'm not certain if the timeline matches up, but I will put it out there as a theory.

6. Her second test is based on the same worries that she had in the books -- that she's abandoned the Two Rivers and she won't be there when they need her and someone who isn't a good Wisdom will have taken over for her -- but shifted the details to hit harder in the show version, and to use characters that the show viewers are already familiar with. It really worked for me. I also liked them essentially using Perrin's lies about Rand to Tam in the books for Nynaeve here instead, where it makes a lot more sense -- she doesn't want to steal the only comfort that she can give a dying man by telling him that his son is dead.

7. Liandrin genuinely got herself invested in Nynaeve! I liked seeing that. I really like that the show is giving more emotional depth to our Darkfriends. Both Sheriam and Liandrin come across as very genuinely upset that Nynaeve hasn't returned through the arches. Because they both think of themselves as the good guys! Liandrin's motives in the show seems to be along the lines of "You need to have power so that others can't have power over you" while Sheriam's in the books were about being Black Ajah essentially to get ahead in the Tower but never expecting that she would actually need to do anything TOO terribly bad in exchange. Neither of them wanted Nynaeve to die or get hurt (they were both probably hoping to turn her to the Black Ajah). It's also really funny that it's entirely possible that they do not know that the other one is also Black Ajah.

8. Theory: being able to sense latent channelers may be a Talent rather than something either everyone or no one can do. Because it's one specific damane who comes out to point out the individual women to get dragged off to be damane, rather than it being the two women who were used to attack the village.

They are hitting the dehumanization angle hard. Egwene's 'training' is going to be so hard to watch.

9. Ishamael doesn't seem like he was expecting to find Perrin here, so I don't think Ingtar has been in regular contact with him. I really do wonder where exactly the Darkfriend social happened, timeline-wise, to the rest of the season thus far.

10. Ah, goodbye, Uno. I'll miss you, but you went out like a boss. Given the changes that were made to the plot, this does make a ton of sense -- Uno is not a man who backs down easily and he's also not a plot-relevant character really... ever, at any point. He's a fun character for flavor but someone who can be sacrificed to illustrate a narrative point without needing to change any of the story in the future.

11. Changing Logain to being able to see men who can channel as opposed to ta'veren makes a lot of sense on a practical level -- Mat was sitting right next to Rand, so if he saw ta'veren, then he would have seen both of them glowing; making it about Rand being a channeling focuses Logain's attention and memory in on Rand specifically.

12. Rand being kept out of the knowledge loop here kinda cracks me up because "Rand is on an information diet" is something that kept coming up in the books and it frustrated me so much because, in the books, it was consistently a result of his allies just never being willing to tell him a fucking thing ever unless he bullied them into it or spied on them. It makes a lot more sense here that he doesn't know what's going on with anyone else's plotlines! Taking something frustrating from the books and making it make sense is a really good habit that the show has been doing.

13. Lanfear continues to be the funniest girl in the world. She is just on cloud nine so far in s2, cruising along living her best life. Also, we see that her inn cheekily has her personal symbols as their sign.

14. Given how much Rand is experiencing the class divide in Cairhien and how much he's seen the poor get mistreated and looked down on by the rich and titled, I almost wonder if he isn't going to get a bit of Mat's arc from the books when he finds out that Elayne is a noble and needs to realize that she's not like the Cairhienin nobles.

15. Mat escaping from one abusive situation only to land right into another one definitely reminds me of the Tylin->Tuon pipeline in the books, of course. The main difference being is that we're dealing with mother figures in the show and not 'romances' (please take that word with a very large grain of salt). Possibly the biggest way that they can set Mat x Tuon up for success is actually showing us her relationship with her mother and how toxic and cruel the environment that she grew up in is. I feel like not killing off the old Empress at all and instead having Tuon take over a faction of the people and split off them off from the Empire would give us a sense that she really IS Not Like The Other Seanchan, instead of just wanting people to believe Mat when he says it despite there being no evidence in Tuon's actual behavior (I'm trying to remember who originally suggested that idea, but it was a while ago, so I have forgotten; I'm sorry!).

16. Liandrin grinding in to Mat how worthless and what an awful friend he is will, presumably, be some pretty good setup for him to show himself to be both loyal and vital in the final episode, though there will probably be more pain for him in the upcoming episodes (maybe involving what happens with Min's viewing about him stabbing Rand).

17. Lanfear is buzzing on such a high of getting show off of her Personal Dragon to a fancy group of lords and ladies at the start of this party.

18. Rand's conversation with Moiraine's sister is particularly fascinating! There's a queen of Cairhien but I suspect that it's not a Damodred (maybe I'll be wrong and Anvaere is the queen! We'll see!). That Anvaere reaches out to the mysterious ~outlander lord~ and shares so much with him is very intriguing, especially if we end up seeing her again later in the season (once Moiraine arrives in Cairhien?).

18. Here is where the cracks in Lanfear's illusion of perfect happiness with her New Lews Therin are beginning to show: he's keeping secrets from her, he's doubting her, and then he just leaves her behind. She is probably getting some very unhappy flashbacks right about now.

19. I wonder if Rand's bad experience with Logain here will inform his choices in the future. In the books, there isn't really a good reason for him to give Taim free rein over the school, but if it's more of a "Taim vs Logain" situation and he already doesn't trust Logain (and Taim appears less affected by the madness), then him trusting Taim might make more sense.

20. Mat being released from a prison cell and not knowing where to go and then (temporarily in this case) returning to his prison gives me echoes of "Mat inexplicably appears by magic in Ebou fucking Dar, a place that treated him like shit for months" from A Memory of Light, lol.

21. Perrin feeling wary about getting too wolfy because of his encounter with Ishamael feels like a much better reason that we got in the books... though I wonder if we'll follow it up by having him meet... shit, the guy who lost himself to the wolf; do not remember his name. But I'm thrilled to have him hanging out with Elyas and the wolves (Hopper?) for now.

22. Liandrin calling Mat Cauthon, agent of chaos, "nothing if not predictable" feels like it needs to bite her in the ass at some point.

23. Yeah, on rewatch, the sex dream is definitely Lanfear feeling like she can finally show her possessiveness and anger in Rand's dream. She is MAD at him for keeping secrets and leaving without her, but she can't show it when he's awake because it doesn't fit her carefully crafted persona. She does NOT like her men with an air of mystery -- she wants to know every tiny thing that he's thinking and feeling. I wonder if Rand actually did light the roof on fire or if Lanfear helped it along -- she's definitely taking advantage of his vulnerability in the aftermath of the fire. "If you ever leave me like that again, I will kill you." Yeah, that's absolutely Lanfear.

And, you know, her inn burning down does mean that she doesn't have to worry about dealing with it anymore. Now that she's had a taste of Rand in fancy coats, I think she probably wants to try to figure out a way to make it happen again.

24. Nynaeve's dream does have a couple of painful easter eggs in it -- Mat gets a wound over his eye; Perrin gets killed by an axe.

Nynaeve does forcibly bring back the arches in the books too, just without so much happening in the illusionary life. But I liked this a lot because of how much it gave us from the other characters who believed that Nynaeve was dead.

25. So, my theories about what we might get in episode four. Wow.

Rand's trajectory... I don't think he's done with Logain. But I feel like ep4 is going to be a big one for him, based on the title (Daughter of the Night). Rand may find out the truth about Selene in this episode, which would be a. be a pretty big betrayal but also b. might make him realize that it's not likely that the Dark One is actually dead.

Moiraine is presumably on her way to Cairhien right now, but it doesn't seem like she thinks Rand himself is there, but more that she's investigating the poem situation, so they may run across each other by accident.

Everyone is going to get to react to Nynaeve powering her way out of the arches (like a boss). I am very curious if Lan is going to spend an episode in the Tower before going after Moiraine... but if Actual Lan goes to the Tower... hard to imagine he wouldn't tell Nynaeve, at least, that Rand is still alive. He knows how deeply Nynaeve cares about the Two Rivers kids.

Unless Liandrin tricks Nynaeve, Elayne, and Egwene into leaving the Tower before Lan arrives there?

Where are Mat and Min going! Mat can't be going after Egwene & co to save them because... nothing to save them from at the moment. Where would Liandrin want him to be led? Falme? I mean, maybe, but he can't channel, so it's not a secure prison for Mat like it would be for the girls.

Perrin's storyline is going to teach us more about the Seanchan and wolfbrothering, I imagine. Maybe some scouting. He can truthfully tell any Seanchan soldiers (if he runs across any) that he's taken the oaths.

Will we follow right on from episode 3 or is there going to be a timeskip to give the characters some time to travel to new locations?

#butterfly watches wot #wot #wheel of time #wot on prime #wot show spoilers #wot prime spoilers #wot s2 spoilers #wheel of time s2 spoilers #wot 2x3 spoilers #wot book spoilers #a memory of light

[minimoefoe]

finished my morganville vampires reread so here’s some rankings and misc thoughts

I didn’t really note anything down as I was reading so this is just misc thoughts off the top of my head for the most part. next time I reread I’m defo gonna keep note of as many thoughts as possible and figure out definitive rankings and stuff and ramble on and on to the three ppl who also post about this series

book ranking

two separate lists bc I reread books 1-5 back in mid 2022 and that’s way too long ago for me to remember how I feel about them in comparison to the books I’ve read over the last month

feast of fools (4)

lord of misrule (5)

the dead girls’ dance (2)

midnight alley (3)

glass houses (1)

carpe corpus (6) / last breath (11)

ghost town (9) / black dawn (12)

fade out (7) / daylighters (15)

bite club (10) / fall of night (14)

kiss of death (8) / bitter blood (13)

characters

top four

myrnin - literally obsessed with him I don’t even know how to explain it, I wouldn’t say I read the series JUST for him but if he wasn’t in it I would like it significantly less and would’ve reread a lot less times

amelie / oliver - both soooo interesting, love moments where they show the less big bad vamp sides of themselves, makes me crazy

sam - gone too soon I’m crying

glass house gang

claire / eve - queens

michael - mild annoy moments but I love him

shane - I do really like him but also he’s so annoying sometimes and it gets old quickly

others

miranda - claire mentioning how miranda starts to blossom towards the end of the series and seems finally happy is very sweet but overall I find most of her appearances annoying like I dread seeing her name pop up and it’s a big reason why bitter blood isn’t my fave

monica - has interesting moments for sure and gets better throughout the series but overall idrc

jason - flip flops between good and evil so much idek what’s going on, love him in kiss of death

morley - what I’d give for a small series set in blacke

naomi - coulda been so interesting, gay rights

hannah - we love her

theo- kinda makes me uncomfortable but it’s fine

jesse - actually love her

richard - okay

frank - evil but has interesting moments

ada - very annoying but it’s not all her fault and I like the drama

duos

claire & myrnin - truly no other duo matters, as friends, as more than friends, idc, I love whatever they have going on

claire & amelie - love the idea that amelie kinda sees claire as her daughter and goes on her etc sometimes, actually kills me

amelie & sam - I’m crying

amelie & oliver - the ultimate enemies to lovers kinda

michael & eve - very cute, love them

claire & shane - very cute, love them even tho shane is a bit of a prat sometimes

myrnin & jesse - the thing of jesse being around making myrnin not be as into claire makes my clyrnin obsessed brain sad but it makes my myrninxjesse brain very happy bc I love them, I wish there was so much more of them. the midnight bites stories fed me a little and it was great

misc series thoughts

monica is kinda comically evil in book one and it’s a bit weird like girl calm down. same with whichever of her friends is evil too like can we relax idfk

the ‘mime fangs’ thing is a lil cringe

the series is SO obsessed with claire being 16 and it drives me crazy like eve michael and shane act like they’re a decade older than her and it’s like omg stio being so dramatic

I do not care about captain obvious

what happened to the two officers that claire is friendly with early in the series i feel like they basically are replaced by hannah like where tf do they go

I do not care about claire’s parents like please go away. god bless her dad’s heart condition or whatever is wrong with him get those twats out of that town. also the whole being protective over claire about shane thing does my head in like idc idc IDC

the stuff with bishop is absolutely some of the best stuff in the series (minus every single myrnin scene) like yeahhhhhh

oliver being forced to hang around with everyone in kiss of death is 10/10

oliver running a coffee shop kills me like omfg I love him he does not need to be doing that

I would sell my soul for any information on morley and the librarian who’s name I can’t remember’s relationship like AHHHHH

I don’t dislike the pov changes later in the series, I think they work pretty well for the most part tbh

shane following claire to college is INSANE behaviour like genuinely what the actual fuck is that

I love sam so much he makes me so sad

fuck the ghost hunters I do not care

shane’s reluctance to get used to michael being a vampire is annoying sorry like I get it, he grew up hating them blah blah blah. grow up idc

I think I like that michael ends the series as a human. him having a moment when he was out in the sun nearly made me cry

the fact oliver is hinted to be oliver cromwell lives in my mind rent free and idk why bc I didnt even know who oliver cromwell was til I read these books. I also saw a thing earlier today that said jesse is meant to be lady jane grey which is fun

idk why these children are so determined to marry each other like omg. I do think the whole vampires and humans marrying each other is drama thing is interesting so I’m like okay it makes sense for michael and eve to be determined to get married purely to show that part of things to us but ultimately I’m like.. why does it matter if you can’t get married. like first of all, it’s paper, second of all you’re 12. and shane and claire getting married in the final book is like okay good for you I guess idk

I genuinely could read another 15 books of morganville fuckery liike I love these books an insane amount it’s not even funny

I defo had more thoughts and I’ll probs think of more stuff to add to this once I post it but it’s fine I’ll just save them all for whenever I reread next which might be near the end of this year or might be early next year or might be even longer depending on how well I’m able to distract myself with other things, bc as much as I love this series more than I love myself and wanna spend all my life engrossed in it, it also makes me feel a lil sad and takes over my brain and the lack of fandom is genuinely painful. so the more distance I can make the better I fear

#natchats #morganville vampires #the morganville vampires #reading thoughts

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 32: New Year New Town

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

Rating: G

Word Count: 1868

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

                                                                                                             A/N: Taking place sometime not long before grown up Henry calls for Hook, Regina and Emma to come to his aid in the alternate Enchanted Forest in 7x2, the residents of Storybrooke are living out their Happy Beginnings. With New Years approaching, Regina and Snow decide it’s time for a new town wide initiative. Emma and Killian use the occasion to make a special announcement of their own. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Good morning, Beautiful.  How was your night?”  Killian crooned softly as he leaned down to kiss Emma’s cheek, his hand softly caressing her shoulder.

Emma smiled as she slowly opened her eyes and turned over to meet her husband’s adoring gaze.  She’d introduced him to the song a few months ago, and ever since then, he’d woken her up to it nearly every morning.

They’d been married for five years now, and yet Killian could still make her stomach swoop like a teenager with her first crush.  It should be illegal for someone to be so romantic.

Emma sat up, ran a hand through her riotous curls, and then pulled Killian down for a long, slow kiss.  Life was good.  Life was really good.

Killian pulled away with a reluctant groan.  “I’ll never complain about a good morning greeting like that, my love, but if we continue on in this manner, we’ll never make the city council meeting on time.”

Emma groaned.  “You sure we can’t just skip it?  It’s New Year’s Eve; I’d much rather just stay here in bed with you.”

“Likewise darling,” Killian said with one more smacking kiss to her lips before he threw back the covers and got to his feet, “but you know neither Regina nor your mother would ever let us get away with that given their New Year, New Town initiative.”

Emma groaned again.  “Oh yeah, that.  Can’t wait”

About a month ago, just after Thanksgiving, Regina and Snow had called a special town council meeting.

“We’ve been Big Bad free for five years now,” Regain began without preamble, staring down each of the members of the council, “and you’d think that would mean our town would be nearly perfect, by now, but that is not the case.  I’ve still had to deal with the same petty squabbles as I’ve always had to, and I think it’s high time we do something about it.”

“Just what kind of squabbles we talking about ‘your majesty’?” Leroy asked, scowling fiercely

“Well, for one thing, I think we would all appreciate it if you’d lay off the threats of a lawsuit everytime someone eats the last of Granny’s bacon before you get there.”

“I have always tried to get as much bacon as I possibly could, and my brothers all know it”, Leroy argued.  “They double cross me at the diner counter, they know what to expect.”

Regina rolled her eyes and looked on the point of retorting back, which Snow quickly stepped in.

“The point is not to point fingers at any one person,” she said.  “The point is that I think we all have things about ourselves that we could change in order to become the best versions of ourselves.”

“So, Lady Snow, what particularly are you and the queen proposing?” Killian asked.

“As you all well know, the holiday season is just now ramping up, and before you know it, it will be Christmas and then New Years,” Snow explained.  “Regina and I were talking over tea one day, and we had a thought.  New Years is the time for resolutions.  What if we–all of us–the whole town–made new year’s resolutions to make our town a better, friendlier town?”

“We’ll call it the ‘New Year, New Town’ initiative,” Regina said in her typical no nonsense tone.  “It will, of course, be compulsory for all residents of Storybrooke.”

There was a general groan among the council as everyone began talking at once.  Regina banged her gavel, finally restoring quiet to the council room.

“While I personally don’t think New Year’s resolutions are a bad thing,” Archie said, “I do have questions about how it would work practically, though.  Surely you can see that forcing the town to make New Year’s resolutions is a bit heavy-handed, even for you.”

“Not happening, Sister,” Leroy tossed in.

“For once, I have to agree with the dwarf,” Killian tossed in.  “No bloody way in Hades you will get the town–or even most on this committee–to go along with such an authoritarian scheme.”

Regina sighed in exasperation.  “Listen Captain Guyliner…”

Snow stepped in again before things could further devolve.  “Okay, maybe we can’t make it compulsory, but I was thinking, we could have incentives.  You know, get pledges from various businesses for prizes for anyone who makes and keeps their resolutions until the end of the year.  Make it a fun, citywide competition.  That sort of thing.”

After a fair bit more debate, the council finally voted six to five–with Regina, Snow, David, Archie, Whale and Marco voting aye and Zelena, Emma, Killian, Leroy and Granny voting nay–to implement the initiative.  Emma had been on the fence about the whole thing, but what finally tipped her to the “nay” side, was Regina’s final decree.

“There is one thing I must insist upon,” Regina said.  “If we can’t force the entire town to comply with the initiative, we must at least stand in solidarity in our efforts to encourage full participation.  To that end, I move that the initiative be compulsory for the members of the council.”

Another groan around the room.

“What’s stopping everyone from just making self-serving resolutions?” Whale asked.  

“Well….” Snow began slowly. “Now just hear me out!”

No statement that started like that could ever end well.

“Regina and I discussed that, and we came up with a plan that we think is fair for everyone,” she said. “We, the council, have a say in each other’s resolutions.  Everyone is free to submit resolution ideas for each other, and then on New Year’s Eve, we hold a vote to determine what each person will focus on next year.”

That suggestion got more than a little pushback, but in the end, it was reluctantly adopted.

And so here they were, New Year’s Eve morning, making their way to town hall to decide upon and commit to their resolutions for the coming year.

Emma took a deep, calming breath, as she and Killian took their seats at the council table.  Killian took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze offering her his support and strength.  She couldn’t care less what the council had decided for her resolution; the whole thing was ridiculous anyway.  What did have her nervous and excited and a little freaked out was the plan she and Killian had come up with just before Christmas when they learned the news.  Fact was, it was a big deal, a really, really big deal.

Regina, dressed in her customary power suit, banged her gavel against the table to quiet the gathered council and call the meeting to order.

“Okay, as it’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m sure we all have better places to be, let’s go ahead and get to it,” she said. 

“Here’s how it will work,” Snow said eagerly. “Everyone will vote on the proposed resolutions via secret ballot.  The ballots will be tabulated, and then each one of you will be given an envelope with the list of suggested resolutions the council proposed.  The one picked for you will be listed at the top in red.”

“And if we refuse to go along with that one?” Leroy asked, crossing his arms and scowling fiercely.

“We aren’t unreasonable,” Snow said in answer.  “If you can’t go along with your top choice, you have the option to choose one of the other selections on your list.”

Voting and tabulation were rather quick affairs, and within fifteen minutes the results were in.

“Just to get you all to stop bitching about this and see that it’s not that big of a deal, I’ll go first,” Regina said, taking her own envelope.  Taking her letter opener, she neatly slit the top of the envelope and pulled the single sheet of paper free.  Taking a moment to read through it, Regina scoffed.  “‘Cut back on snarkiness and insulting nicknames’?  Really?  I don’t–”

“Oh yes you do, your majesty,” Killian said.  “I’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve called me some variation of ‘Handless Wonder’ or ‘Captain Guyliner’.”

“Oh, did I hurt your little feelings?” Regina snapped.

“Aaaannd there’s the snark,” Emma commented.

“Fine!” Regina said, “just to prove to all of you that I’m serious about making this initiative work, I’ll accept your stupid resolution.”

With the first resolution reveal out of the way, the rest went rather smoothly.  Snow resolved to refrain from revealing secrets (although Emma personally preferred the resolution Killian had submitted for her mom: Call before coming over to your daughter and son-in-law’s house).  David resolved to make time for his mates now that his farm was taking up so much of his time. Zelena resolved to cut out envy from her life.  Leroy resolved to stop running through the town yelling “terrible news!” about anything less than a full blown emergency.  Whale resolved to stop drinking while on duty.  Archie resolved to actually get a medical degree not given to him from a curse. Granny resolved to replace the uncomfortable mattresses in her inn. And Marco resolved to take classes to bring his woodworking business into the twenty-first century.

Finally, it was down to just Emma and Killian.  The moment of truth.

Emma stood up, and without even looking at what was written on her envelope said, “I resolve to be the best mother I can possibly be and to learn all I can about how to care for a newborn.”

She was met with blank, confused stares as she sat down and Killian rose to make his announcement. 

“And I’d like to address my resolution directly to Dave,” he said with a cheeky grin.  “Mate, my resolution for next year is to not get your daughter pregnant….again.”

For a moment the blank stares continued until suddenly Snow gasped.  “Emma….Killian?  Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Emma stood, and laced her fingers with Killian’s as her smile bloomed and a tear fell from the corner of her eye.  “If you think we’re saying you’re about to be a grandma again, then yes.  We found out on Christmas Eve.  It finally happened!  I’m pregnant!”

Later that night, after the ball dropped and the new year came in amid fireworks and cheers, Emma settled in bed in Killian’s embrace.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asked, holding her to him and nuzzling her neck.  “Is the little one causing any distress?”

“At the moment all is well,” Emma said.  “Now in the morning when the nausea hits like a ton of bricks I might have a different answer, but for right now, everything feels just about perfect.”

Killian placed his hand on her belly and rubbed gently, his attempt, she knew, to caress their growing child.  “Something tells me this new year is going to be our best one yet.”

“Something tells me the same thing, babe,” Emma said.

They fell silent for another moment before Emma broke the silence with a chuckle.  “How long do you think it will take for the council to realize we totally blew off their resolutions for us?”

#christmas reruns 2023 #cs fanfiction #captain swan christmas ff #my fanfiction #new year new town

[saintmeghanmarkle]

The racist comment never happened when will they stop? by u/EKP121

The racist comment never happened, when will they stop? How many editions are we up to now?1. Concerns and conversations while M was suicidal and pregnant (Mar 2021)2. 1 conversation with H before the wedding (Mar 2021)3. An off color remark by Camilla in H's presence (Later 2021)4. A whispered remark by Charles to Camilla in the privacy of their home over breakfast (Sept 2022)5. Race never came into it and no one in the royal family was ever racist; Comments on Archie's skin color in Oprah interview were misinterpreted (Jan 2023)6. Two people said it that she's written about in letters to the King that never happened (Nov 2023)​Here's how I see it.. it obviously DID NOT HAPPEN. But they are still trying to use it as leverage despite it at best being a conversation that happened 5 years ago. Why do they need leverage? Because for some reason they want to go to Royal Christmas, they've been told no in some capacity and they are now throwing a tantrum. Back in January, they still had frogmore, they played nice and tried to use backtracking as leverage to retain Frogmore - didn't work and months later they were evicted. In 2022, the focus was very far from them and the King was very new - so they "leak" the story to gett leverage into a royal role of half-in, half-out because the Queen had died and they wanted back in. The King wished them good luck overseas and promoted their enemy. In late 2021, they still had everyone's interest and they still had considerable leverage in he media with upcoming projects so they tried to use it to get their goals. They wanted the royal treatment and for Charles to grovel. He didn't. In March 2021, they had been planning the attack for years at this point and knew this was the biggest card to pull so close to BLM. In short, they've always been hustling and trying to get leverage by using a made up story about their poor son. But they can't tell the exact same story for years, it loses interest so they change details to make it a scoop. But it's still not working. Because the incident in question happened so long ago, and the story's changed so many times, even if it did happen it's completely unbelievable. If one version is correct then that means you lied every other time. And also, it becomes less and less believable that if it happened that they'd give a toss about the Royals or titles - why would you want ANYTHING to do with a family/person/company that is racist towards you and/or your children. Why fight for princely titles? Why call on birthdays? Why go to the funerals? Why make documentaries about them? Why go on a book tour to talk about them? Just cut them out and go about your life. But they didn't say anything and Meghan and Harry want back in. They thought they would have made it by now and they haven't so they want in, on their terms still, but are being told no. Can't wait for them to have an opaque strategy for once. post link: https://ift.tt/wKDl3PJ author: EKP121 submitted: November 25, 2023 at 02:09PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

#SaintMeghanMarkle #harry and meghan #meghan markle #prince harry #voetsek meghan #sussexes #markled #archewell #megxit #duke and duchess of sussex #duchess of sussex #duchess meghan #duke of sussex #harry and meghan smollett #walmart wallis #harkles #megain #spare by prince harry #fucking grifters #meghan and harry #Heart Of Invictus #Invictus Games #finding freedom #doria ragland #WAAAGH #EKP121

[klaus-goldstein]

Dreaming in Silver and Gold

CHAPTER 25, Klaus/Liz, Rated: Explicit

Prologue \ Ch. 1 \ Ch. 2 \ Ch. 3 \ Ch. 4 \ Ch. 5 \ Ch. 6 \ Ch. 7 \ Ch. 8\ Ch. 9 \ Ch. 10 \ Ch. 11 \ Ch. 12 \ Ch. 13 \ Ch. 14 \ Ch. 15 \ Ch. 16\ Ch. 17 \ Ch. 18 \ Ch. 19 \ Ch. 20 \ Ch. 21 \ Ch. 22 \ Ch. 23 \ Ch. 24 \ Ch. 25 \

Demon au requested by @itsmeimcathy thanks for getting my butt back in gear and giving me awesome prompts. <3

Sorry for the delay in posting once again. Life has been crazy for the last *looks at watch* four years. Yikes. Tbh the reason it’s taken so long is I lost all confidence in my writing. I’ve decided to power through regardless of my feelings of inadequacy. Here we gooooo.

****Also there is Elias/Luca smut in the third section. It’s pretty much the whole of the third section.****

Fates weave their threads

Our lives are sewn

Born to a life

All but our own

We feel it inside our bones

It’s in the blood. - In the Blood from the ‘Hades’ soundtrack.

Liz closed her eyes as she adjusted the metal crown on her head. The elaborate piece was made of muted gold and encrusted with glittering white and black diamonds. It was heavy and it pressed into her messy chestnut-colored curls. Her eyes were lined elaborately with gold and charcoal, it contrasted against the bright color of her eyes and made her look mysterious. Her dress was simply cut with a high neck and long sleeves. The material was made from heavy gray velvet and she had to stop herself from constantly running her hands over the plush fabric. Embroidery made of golden thread covered the bodice and the sleeves. A train of sheer material fell from her shoulders and flowed behind her when she walked. Yellow diamonds were scattered across the train and shimmered like stars in a cloudy sky.

She approached the golden double doors and waited as the angels on either side of her threw them open. She was met with thunderous applause as she stepped onto the path in front of her. There was a multitude of angels lining the walkway and thousands more in the sky watching her.

A marble floor made of gold and silver stretched in front of her. The images of the angels hovering above reflected off of the polished stone. The setting sun cast hues of gold and pink off of the numerous clouds. A shimmering waterfall made of sparkling bronze water cascaded from a break in a cumulonimbus. Flowers spilled out of vases and lined the path Liz was walking. The aroma was heady and sweet. It swirled around her. Curtains of gossamer swayed in the breeze of the giant arched doorways that lined the balcony. 

A month ago she had been crowned as queen in the underworld without Klaus. It had felt like a betrayal to him to do something so impactful while he was somewhere alone and hurt. The archangels and demon council had argued that it would come across as a unified front if she was crowned now rather than later. Sadly, they were right. 

The week after she was crowned in the Underworld she was elected as the Archangel of the Sky, with stipulations. Sebastian would retain his power as an Archangel since he already knew how to manage it. Liz would work on learning to fly and developing her powers while also learning about the duties that Sebastian handled. When the council felt that she had grown into her power and position then they would do a power transfer. 

Elaine had been crowned as Goddess of the Underworld at the same time, with Demetre taking the silver crown and pledging his sword, shield, and protection to her. Liz wondered if he had already done that before many many millennia ago.

Elaine’s situation was complicated. She couldn’t entirely take on Klaus’ powers because he wasn’t there to give them up. When an archangel is elected their power is linked to their second in command so that they may have a sliver of it. Moira had discovered a spell that increased that sliver of power for Elaine and also sealed her off from Klaus slightly. The council was afraid of what was being done to Klaus under Ahaz and didn’t want Elain to be completely linked to Klaus if things went sideways. 

She was approaching the end of the path and the archangels and commanders came into view. They all smiled encouragingly at her. Elaine and Demetre were standing closest to the raised dais in front of Liz and they both looked powerful and intimidating. Elaine wore a crown made of black gold. Spikes of metal extended from the base of the crown. Her tresses of golden hair were braided around the base of the crown and the pointed metal. Her dress was black silk and strategic cutouts fashioned from black lace were sewn into the dress. It was striking and alluring. Demetre had his hand at her back and he was whispering into her ear. Elaine was laughing but she wasn’t looking at him she was looking at Sebastian. 

Sebastian was standing at the end of the path in full ceremonial armor. It was polished to gleaming gold. A shield was strapped across his back, and his baldric of knives was his only weapon. He winked at Elaine and it pulled the scars on his face as he grinned. When their gazes met Elaine blushed and returned the gesture to him. He smiled and shook his head before his gaze fell on Liz. 

He bowed to her, and despite all the chaos in her life, Liz smiled. This was exciting after all. She was about to be crowned as a goddess. Sebastian offered her his arm and Liz gripped it tight as they ascended the steps together. Sebastian fell into step behind her as they climbed the dais towards Moira. 

The sun was low in the sky behind Moira and rays of the setting sun framed her. The light bounced off the silver and diamonds covering her white dress. Her pure snow-colored wings extended behind her and she raised her arms to the sky. 

“Today,” Moira’s voice boomed and echoed through the space. She paused as she waited for the multitude to quiet down. “Today, we swear in a new archangel. In this time of turmoil, we look for new light. We continue on despite the threat at our doors and we lay the foundation for a strong future.”

Liz came to stand in front of her and Moira smiled down at her warmly. “Archangel, do you commit to serving the realm to the best of your ability?”

Liz cleared her throat slightly and took a deep breath. “I do.” 

“Do you promise to uphold law and justice, in mercy, and for it to be executed in all your judgments?” 

“I promise.”

“Do you promise to protect the realm and the people of the earth until your dying breath?”

“I do.”

Moira’s hands came to hover above Liz’s head. “Words have power and the vows you make are binding.” As she spoke light haloed around Liz’s head. It slithered down her shoulders and across her neck. “Breaking these vows have consequence. Should you ever forsake them you shall burn in the fires of the underworld forever.”

The halo settled on Liz’s head and she bent her knee to the scribe. “I understand.”

“Then rise and take your place as Goddess of the Sky.” 

Liz rose and the room erupted into applause. 

“Second,” Moria turned to Sebastian next. “Please kneel and state your vows.” Sebastian knelt in front of Liz and bowed his head baring his neck to her. 

“On bended knee, I swear to serve and protect my archangel and the realm, to serve the good of both, even if it costs my life. I swear to be brave and strong by sword or bow, in wilderness and cities, in the fires of the underworld and the weather of the skies. I swear to help govern and recommend judgment in good faith and understanding. All this to the best of my ability.” 

Moira handed Liz a sword and Sebastian extended his arms to take it from her. He slid the metal into the scabbard that ran down his spine. Moira then handed Liz a silver crown and she placed it on Sebastian’s blonde curls. 

Liz extended her hand to him and Sebastian rose to his feet. The crowd of angels cheered for their newest archangel and second. Liz smiled up at the bright sky and for just a moment she felt elated. 

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

After the ceremony, Elaine opened up a portal to the underworld, and Liz, Sebastian, and Demetre stepped into the darkened realm. Without Klaus there the underworld seemed so dim and bleak. Everything was the same but there was no life to it. The garden was dull where there had been light previously. The temperature was cooler and the fog that naturally settled over the world was heavy and stifling. It seemed like all warmth was slowly seeping out of the realm. It was getting harder and harder for Liz to want to be there. Every time she went up to the surface for school or to the heavens it was a breath of fresh air.

Liz slowly crept into the room she shared with Klaus. Ever since she had seen Ravenna in there a month ago she was weary every time she entered her space. There didn’t seem to be anyone there and she relaxed as she began to take the pins out of her hair. She deposited them and her crown on her nightstand and shook her hair out. 

They hadn’t told Demetre about Ravenna yet. It was agreed that it would do him more harm than good to bring up her shade. After the encounter, she went to Sebastian and Elaine immediately and explained what she had seen and the cryptic message that Ravenna had given her. Neither knew what to make of it and that sat Liz’s teeth on edge. There were so many uncertain things surrounding her. Keeping her head above water was becoming increasingly more difficult.

No one had heard a whisper of Klaus or Ahaz since they disappeared and Liz was getting desperate. She wanted something, anything to happen. This time of limbo was driving her insane. Things were going well despite that though. The seraphim, demons, and angels had combined their councils and forces and were going through war strategies and plans daily. That seemed to be the one bright spot in all of this. Centuries-old tensions and discrepancies were slowly being healed and repaired. All parties involved were realizing just how much the gods had decayed the views of the others and they were doing away with it. 

They hadn’t seen or heard from Sigurd since that day in the council chamber when he appeared with the seraphim. Elaine had explained to Liz that it was because it was dangerous for him to get correspondence to them most of the time. Sometimes Klaus would go months without hearing from him. It was important that his cover remain intact. Liz understood that but it was frustrating to have someone so close to enemy lines and not have more information on Ahaz and Klaus or the rebel demons and seraphim. 

She walked into her closet and unzipped her coronation dress. She let it fall to the floor and she rolled her shoulders as her wings appeared at her back. The weight settled into her shoulders and she sighed. She was accustomed to her wings now. They could vanish and appear at will and she had full mobility over them. She still didn't know how on earth to fly. For now, she was focusing on learning to use her magic in this new form. Sebastian had decided that they needed to focus on that before they started on her flying. 

She had also begun weapons training with Isidore and Natalia. That hadn’t done anything to improve her relationship with Isidore. She had a certain respect for him sure, he was brilliant when it came to fighting, but that didn’t make him any less a pain in her neck. Luckily Natalia usually kept him in check. Her favorite weapon right now was a spear and she wasn’t half bad at it. At least she thought so, Idisore didn’t agree. 

She dressed quickly with a snap of her fingers in a pair of black silk pants and an oversized black sweater. She braided her hair out of her face and pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks. That sort of magic came easy to her.

 She made her way to the library at the center of the archives. That is where the oldest books in the underworld were located.  In her spare time, she was researching poisons and antidotes in an attempt to gain some knowledge about the poison coursing through Demetre’s veins. Daphne was tackling the library in the heavens while Liz was working in the underworld. 

Today however she found Daphne in the underworld with books scattered across the tables. The other angel looked tired and Liz frowned. She hadn’t seen her at the coronation and knew that it was probably because she was down here searching through the endless texts. Daphne was working the hardest out of all of them in preparation for what was to come. When she wasn’t dealing with her specific duties as Charis’ second, she was researching Demetre’s anatomy and expanding her knowledge of poisons and binding spells. For some reason, she was taking her lack of knowledge personally. Daphne told Liz once that it was her job to know how to counteract poisons. The fact that she couldn’t figure out Demetre’s poison was slowly breaking her. 

“You look like hell,” Liz said as she sat down across from Daphne. She was starting to learn that bluntness was the easiest way to communicate with Daphne. The angel appreciated honesty over deception and pretty words. Daphne preferred to dish lovely words and deception instead of receiving them. 

“Thank you so very much.” Daphne clipped as she turned the page in her book. She didn’t even look up. 

“I mean it, when was the last time you slept.” 

Daphne finally looked up at her and the circles under her eyes were dark. “I don’t remember.”

Liz sighed and drummed her fingers impatiently against the table. She realized that it was a habit she had picked up from Sebastian. “You need to sleep.”

“I need to find the components of this potion.” Daphne huffed.

Daphne buried her head into her book and tried to physically dismiss Liz. She tried a different tactic. “You aren’t any use if you’re too tired to think straight.”

The book in Daphne’s hand snapped shut and Liz knew she had won. Daphne directed her hardened gaze to Liz and threaded her fingers together. Liz fought the urge to audibly gulp. Sometimes she forgot how scary Daphne could be. Now she was going to turn that sharp mind on Liz instead of her book.

“And what about you Liz?” Daphne asked all too innocently. Her eyes were wide and her expression a practiced softness. Anyone else would see it as honest concern but Liz could see through it a mile away. The more she was around Daphne the more she could see why she and Klaus didn’t work out. They were far too cunning and similar. No, Daphne’s concern was a calculated assessment and it was searching out weaknesses. 

“Having any nightmares lately?” Liz winced but held Daphne’s stare. “Any visions? Any sleepless nights? Panic attacks?”

Liz sighed and tilted her head. “Look, I didn’t say you couldn’t come back and continue but you need a break. Let me research a bit and go and sleep. Hell, you don’t even have to leave there’s a couch over there in front of that painting. Take a cat nap.” 

Daphne held her gaze before standing from her chair and smoothing out her sweater. “Fine.”

“Fine,” Liz replied.

“You’re such a mother hen,” Daphne grumbled under her breath as she made her way over to the couch at the far end of the stacks. She snapped her fingers and a pillow and blanket appeared. She threw her cover over her while she continued complaining under her breath. 

“Night Daph,” Liz said as she glanced down at her book. 

“Yeah yeah,” Daphne grumbled. 

Liz smiled to herself and soon she could hear Daphne breathing softly. The stillness crept into the archives and Liz let it consume her for a bit. After about an hour she heard Daphne stir and she watched her friend sit up against the couch and rub her eyes. 

“Feel better?” Liz asked.

“Yes,” Daphne said quietly. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.” 

“It’s alright.”

“It’s just,” Daphne trailed off and Liz waited on her to continue. “I feel like this stuff with Demetre is on my shoulders. There has never been a poison I couldn’t counter. I’ve studied extensively for hundreds of years to make sure that I have the tools and knowledge necessary to combat what I need to combat and heal. I’m not in the habit of being wrong or without knowledge. I’m taking it personally.”

“Gods you and Klaus are too similar.” Liz sighed. Daphne glared at her and got up from the couch to come and sit across from her. “It’s not your job to know everything. That isn’t possible. I know that breaks your heart to hear.” Daphne rolled her eyes and Liz continued. “Work with what you have. Theodora, Randy, you, and I are working on this. Between the four of us, we should be able to figure it out. It’s just going to take some time. We have about a million years of source material to go over.” 

Suddenly a flash of smoke broke into existence next to them and Demetre appeared. He didn’t say anything just rolled up the sleeve of his dress shirt and held his arm out to Daphne. The material pulled over his sculpted chest but Liz could see that he was thinner than the last time they had looked him over. His body was doing well to sustain him but she could see the small changes little by little that reminded her that they were losing.

“I’m ready for the midday torture.” He said sarcastically. They had been drawing his blood three times a day and searching his vitals to monitor them and see if there were any changes in his body. 

Daphne blinked up at him and Liz thought for a second she was going to murder him. That’s one thing about this situation that was becoming increasingly comical. Demetre and Daphne despised each other. They grated on each other’s nerves and both were sharp-tongued enough to cut the other down to size. Liz enjoyed watching them interact. 

Daphne didn’t say a word. She grabbed his wrist and Liz saw Demetre wince at her grip. 

“Ouch.” he hissed and Daphne flashed him a fanged smile. She slid her fingers lightly up his arms as she felt for his veins. When she was satisfied she snapped her fingers and a syringe appeared in her grasp. She drew his blood quickly and Demetre watched her intently. Liz watched as golden ichor filled the vial and Daphne finished her task. She handed Demetre a bandage. And he wrapped it around himself. 

“Are you going to kiss it and make it better?” He asked. Liz saw his eyes dancing in amusement. 

Daphne hurled a book at his head and he disappeared before it made an impact with his skull. It drifted through the space he had occupied and slid across the floor. 

“You know, maybe I’m not so bent out of shape about saving him,” Daphne said quietly. 

Liz laughed and went back to her research. 

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

“Ventos!”

Elias dodged Luca’s spell easily and spun to grab at him. His black claws glinted in the light and Luca jumped back to avoid them. 

“Apareo umbra!” 

A perfect copy of Luca appeared and began to engage Elias in magical combat. The umbra held Elias’ attention and Luca used this time to begin to corner Elias against the wall. 

They had been training for weeks in Luca’s defenses. He was a talented wizard and was more than capable with a wand. Elias was concerned about how well he could handle himself in stressful situations. Being naturally skilled in magic was one thing but using it in combat was a different beast entirely. Elias wasn’t going to risk Luca being defenseless against a demon or a Seraphim. 

So they practiced daily much to Luca’s dismay. Luca’s magic burned fast and strong which gave him the initial advantage in battle. However, they soon discovered that tactic cost him precious magic as the fight went on. So, Elias had begun tackling his stamina, making him fight longer, learning how to siphon every drop of magic out of himself, and making sure that he used his magical reserves accurately. 

Elias pierced the umbra with a blast of light and watched as the copy disintegrated in front of him. He was about to lunge at Luca again when Luca unleashed another spell on him. 

“Funus captis!” 

A chain of light shot out of Luca’s wand and clamped onto Elias’ wrist. The chain flew to the wall throwing Elias back off of his feet and stuck to the marble behind him. He tried to move his arm but it was held tight by the chain of magic. He put all of his immortal strength into pulling his arm off of the wall. It moved slightly before slamming back against the stone. 

Luca walked towards him slowly twirling his wand. “Well well, that’s 6 to 5. I guess I’m winning now.”

Elias barred his teeth at him and Luca’s gin widened. Elias saw Luca’s grin falter slightly as he assessed Elias’ mental state. The other week they had been training like this and Luca had made the mistake of restraining Elias’ body entirely. The demon had immediately gone into a panic attack when he couldn’t get out of his bonds. Luca didn’t think that being confined like that would’ve had that reaction and neither did Elias. It made sense though. The last time Elias had been restrained he had his wings cleaved from his body. 

Luca had been careful not to fully restrain him after that. Always leaving him mostly in control of his movements and position. He always restrained him enough to keep him at bay and nothing more. When he saw that Elias was fine he continued his gloating. 

“It must be so hard for you to be beaten by a human.” 

Elias narrowed his gaze at him. “What you are has nothing to do with it. Talent isn’t bound to a specific species.”

“Still,” Luca was standing inches in front of him now and clasped his hands behind his back. “Must sting a little. I mean you are what…thousands of years old right? I’m just decades out of the wound. How humiliating.” 

“Ha ha,” Elias replied dryly. “Let me out of this spell and I would be happy to show you a few thousand years of experience.”

“And what type of experience would that be?” Luca’s eyes danced suddenly and Elias had the sneaking suspicion that they were no longer talking about magic. Luca took a final step toward him and Elias gulped as Luca’s scent engulfed him. Eucalyptus with a hind of lilac. Elias quieted his pounding heart and let his eyes darken as his smile widened. He was aware he was letting his fangs show and watched as Luca swallowed. Good. Elias wondered if sometimes Luca forgot what he was. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. 

He still had a free hand and he could get out of the bond at his wrist if he took the time to break apart the spell. He wanted to see where this went.

Elias shrugged. “Like I said let me out of these bonds and we’ll see.” Luca muttered another “funus captis” and Elias felt his other wrist hit the wall. 

Interesting. 

He waited for any hint of panic to set in and when it didn’t he tilted his head at Luca in question. 

Luca brushed against Elias, his left hand running up his chest and his fingers splaying the length of that side of his neck. Luca’s thumb ran up the column of his throat in the smallest whisper of a touch and it made Elias shiver. 

“Maybe in a minute. I’m quite enjoying being able to touch you freely.” Luca murmured, his lips just a breath from Elias’.

The wand was gone and Luca’s other hand splayed across his ribs and drifted around his back. He pressed Elias against him. Luca’s eyes searched his for a moment and Elias took a deep breath.

“I’m fine,” Elias reassured him. 

Luca’s hands drifted. The one at his neck slid into his hair while the second one traced the curve of his hip. Elias shifted against him and tugged at the bonds slightly. The hand at his hip slid under his shirt and Luca’s nails scratched lightly at the bone of his hip that jutted above the waist of his pants. Elias hissed and Luca smiled.

He kissed him then, finally. It began softly with their lips barely pressing against each other. Elias smiled against the kiss and he felt Luca do the same. Then the hand at his hip pulled him flush against Luca. 

The kiss was no longer soft then. They kissed desperately, all gentleness was gone and an urgency slipped into their actions. They suddenly couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t feel enough, couldn’t taste enough. 

“Get these damn bonds off of me right now,” Elias said when they finally came up for air. 

Luca’s wand appeared again suddenly and the bonds were gone. Elias moved them from the training area of the castle, where they were, to his bedroom. The teleportation tore at them almost like it could sense their urgency. When they reappeared they staggered slightly before drifting back together. 

Elias’ hands were in Luca’s hair and he was bending down to capture his lips again as Luca righted himself from their hurried teleportation. Luca’s hands clamped around Elias’ waist his hands freely grasping at his back, his hip, the curve of his ass. 

Elias gently pushed Luca against a bookshelf and cupped his face and deepened their kiss. His leg drifted between Luca’s legs and he ground against them. Elias tore away from him and inhaled deeply as he caught his breath. Luca took the opportunity to kiss up the side of his neck, capturing his earlobe with his teeth. 

Suddenly wings exploded from Elias’ back. It made Luca jump a little, sometimes he forgot that Elias had wings again. Elias brought his wings down and they engulfed them. The light filtering through the tips of the feathers cast a light blue tint around them. The heat of the wings and Elias’ body against him was driving him mad. He ground against Elias again now completely aware of both of their body's reactions. 

They had been in this position again and again for the last few weeks. Usually, someone would interrupt, or one of them would break away awkwardly, or something in the underworld would need Elias’ immediate attention. Luca was so damn frustrated he had been taking cold showers daily. 

Today though nothing happened. No interruptions occurred. The underworld was quiet. Neither of them seemed inclined to pull away. 

And that is how Luca found himself still pressed against the bookshelf with Elias on his knees in front of him. 

Luca had seen a lot of beautiful things in his life. The view of Elias kneeling in front of him though had to take the cake. His wings were spread and limp on either side of him. The warm light from the fire reflected lightly off the blonde of his hair and it gave him an ethereal glow. Elias’ eyes met his, black to green. 

Elias reached up and undid the button at Luca’s waist and shimmied his pants and undergarments down his hips. His erection bobbed between them and Luca swallowed thickly. 

“So help me, you better put the fangs away or I’m going to murder you.”

Elias laughed softly before giving Luca a sarcastic smile. The fangs were gone and Luca motioned for Elias to continue. Elias dragged his tongue up the length of his shaft and Luca felt like he was going to burst into flames.  

Elias licked him a couple of times like that, long and slow before his lips closed around the head of his cock. Luca fought the urge to thrust into his mouth and instead tangled his fingers in Elias’ hair. Elias took him in inch by inch and every little movement rocketed Luca toward his orgasm. 

“Gods you look so beautiful like that.” Luca breathed out. 

Elias peaked up at him through his lashes. Luca did thrust into his mouth then and gasped when Elias took all of him. His fingers tugged on Elias’ hair lightly and he felt him moan around his cock. Luca closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling as he thrust in and out. 

Elias pulled back all the way and Luca gasped as he took him to the hilt. Elias repeated that over and over and the slow pace was enough to undo him. He thrust into Elias’ mouth again and the demon let him. He kept him there and Luca moaned as Elias’ tongue flicked against his shaft. 

He was going to cum.

He was about to pull out but when he tried Elias grabbed the back of his thighs, his talons scraping at the sensitive skin there. He kept Luca against him as he came with a whine down Elias’ throat. 

Luca barely had a moment to collect his thoughts before he was tugged by his collar to the couch in front of the fireplace. Elias pushed him down onto the settee none too gently and placed a hand on his chest. Elias perched a knee next to Luca’s hip on the couch and positioned the other between his legs. 

Elias freed himself and all of Luca’s focus went to Elias’ cock. He was rock hard and leaking precum. Luca raised up to do something about that but Elias pushed him back down onto the cushions below him. The hand at his chest was making quick work of the buttons of his shirt while Elias’ other hand began to stroke himself. 

Luca realized that Elias was about to cum all over his chest and it sent a thrill up his spine. 

Luca noted how he stroked himself. The slight twist of his hand near the head of his cock, the way his breath hitched as he got closer to his orgasm, the way his muscles bunched. Elias’ wings were taut and raised behind him. 

Luca watched his fathomless black eyes and suddenly realized he was wrong. The sight of Elias kneeling before him wasn’t his favorite view. This was. Elias was the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen. 

Elias let out a low growl as warm streaks of cum slid across Luca’s chest. They held each other's gaze and Luca raised on his elbows so he could press his forehead against Elias’. Elias closed his eyes at the gesture and pressed a kiss to Luca’s temple. 

Luca’s stomach took the opportunity to growl in the silence and Elias huffed out a laugh.

“Let’s bathe and then I would appreciate it if you could take me to the surface for food,” Luca said.

Elias pushed off the settee and began to straighten his clothes. “Or,”

Luca was watching the way Elias fiddled with his cufflinks. Elias continued.

“You could do up your shirt and fix your clothes and I could take you to the surface. That way anyone who comes across us is going to know what you and I just did because you smell like me.”

“Who knew Elias was so naughty.” Luca laughed and Elias helped him to his feet. 

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

He opened his eyes with a soft grunt and immediately winced at the tightness in his chest left behind by hours of hanging from the chains that supported him. Klaus was tall but even he struggled to stand on his tiptoes in order to keep his full weight off his arms and shoulders. He could feel his pulse hammering through his veins and secretly hated it for keeping him alive. He spat old blood onto the dirty floor and sighed, long and low. 

Right. He was in Ahaz’s hideout, still. He knew he had been there about a month based on the passage of the sun he could see from the small windows near the top of the wall. He had painstakingly kept count of the days. He sighed through his nose and glanced up at the ceiling with a critical eye. There was a series of hooks connected above him. There was no way he was getting out of this without help. He was so incredibly bored and tired. 

He had listened to Ravenna and played nice with Ahaz. Klaus gave up bits and pieces about the underworld and the heavens. Nothing that would harm either realm but it was enough to keep the torture at bay. While uncomfortable, they had yet to torture him in a way that made him desperate. This was child’s play. 

He still didn’t understand Ravenna’s end game. She apparently saw a conflict between the angels and the gods but that seemed so impossible. The gods had been dead for millennia, their souls toiling away in the deepest parts of the underworld. It was impossible to bring a soul back to the world of the living.

Well, it was also impossible for a shade to remain on the earth and yet, there was Ravenna. 

Klaus was quickly learning that the impossible didn’t apply to their lives. They were angels of course, with powers that they had stolen. Technically anything was possible. He spent his solitude trying to mull through the possibilities and implications. If the gods could get out that meant that the underworld wasn’t as secure as they believed. Which was a problem on so many levels. 

Then there was the immediate danger if the gods were released. Would the angels have the resources to take them on again? They had the veteran archangels of course but they also had a lot of young archangels. He had never seen combat on the scale of a cosmic war. Even with the powers of the gods at their disposal it seemed bleak. There were still things about their powers they didn’t understand even after all these years. If the gods broke free from the underworld then surely the souls of the damned and the demons would follow. While those souls may not be loyal to the gods they would create havoc which would make it harder for the angels to focus on the problem of the gods and only the gods. 

Then there was his role in all of this. Ravenna said he needed to unleash his horseman form for there to be a chance at keeping the gods at bay. That also spelled havoc for the world. In that form he was uncontrollable and his only goal would be to bring death. Which is why he also wondered why Ahaz wanted to. If Ahaz unleashed him he could easily kill Ahaz, his followers, and everyone else. Was his goal ultimate destruction?

Klaus didn’t think so. Ahaz had survived too long to just give it up. He wanted power. This meant that Ahaz was confident that he could leash Klaus like the angels had done. That made Klaus uneasy because if Ahaz did manage to leash him then he would be used as a weapon against his friends and loved ones. 

He did know one thing. He was going to tear Ahaz limb from limb when he did escape this. He would escape this. He had too much to do and a life too precious to die in this dingy dungeon. 

Klaus missed Liz terribly. He hadn’t realized how integral she was to his daily life until she wasn’t there. He missed the touch of her skin, her warmth, but most importantly he missed her smile. He just wanted to see her, wanted to see her eyes meet his and that beautiful smile grace her features. He hoped she was doing well. Really hoped that his disappearance hadn’t shattered her. 

Klaus knew it had. He also knew it would fuel her. Liz was determined. If anyone was in danger she was going to save them. She was stupidly gallant like that. It was one of the things Klaus loved about her. He just hoped she was smart about it. She was coming for him, he knew it.

He just had to hold on. 

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