sometimes you have to listen to ghost on the shore on repeat while playing the jumbo pack of 14x14 flow puzzles while your window is open and its raining outside and 48 degrees and you have a tummy ache and a new haircut

Chapter 39

The Road So Far

Is this still worth it?

The SEVEN Inch Wound

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson

Task Force 141 Base - Gym

Roach finally got his seal of approval. After weeks of physical therapy and daily check ups, he was now finally fit for battle and he was lucky enough that Nero was still under the radar. He wouldn't want to miss out on the battle he started. He was lucky enough that they were exonerated when Shepherd surrendered, because if they continued to be fugitives, Roach would not have access to appropriate medical attention.

It has been almost a month after the events in Afghanistan and Task Force 141 was already re-established, Samantha and Maxine were housed on a nearby compound where veteran's families lived under the safety of government protection. During his time in the infirmary, Maxine was always there to visit, telling him tales about dreams she recovered as time went by. Roach was glad she was returning to normal and that no matter how her memories came back, her treatment towards him was the same.

"Good to see you back on your feet, my man." Rocket went up to him and did their fist bump, a series of elaborate claps then finished off with finger guns accompanied by their almost realistic attempt at pistol fires.

"Haha. Yeah? I'm glad I'm back." He waved as Rocket pointed at his back. Roach turned to see Maxine, carrying a packed lunch, waiting at the end of the hallway.

"Hey you. Just in time for lunch as always." He smiled, wrapping an arm around her as they made their way to the mess hall.

"Glad to see you smiling and walking about." She says, as her palms ran across his firm chest, tracing the scar that changed his life.

"Yeah, finally passed the damn physical test." He grinned as they sat down at their usual table, the only table which consisted of two tables stuck together to form an eight seater.

The rest of Roach's closest comrades were already there. Alex, guessing what Samantha packed for him. Soap and France arguing which meal choice was best for them and Ghost, who was already halfway through his lunch while the rest of his comrades haven't even started yet.

"Good to have you back, buddy." Ghost greeted with a wide grin on his face, well technically only half of his face was shown.

"Hey man. I sure am glad. How have you been doing?" he joked. They constantly visit him in their free time, so there was actually nothing to catch up on.

"The rest of the squad proceeded to badger Roach with questions about everything they wanted to know. Roach enjoyed the hot seat as the military mess hall felt like the university cafeteria.

"So, any news about Nero?" He finally asked as soon as everyone was done with him. The table felt awfully quiet.

"None." France was the first to speak up. Everyone else nodded and frowned.

"Shit. Guess our only choice is to wait." He added.

"Shepherd didn't have any leads towards Nero. Their last contact was the exchange of blueprints and after that, he was gone." Soap explained the situation.

"The missing persons?" Gary asked.

"Still missing." Alex commented.

"And there are still a few additions every other day as indicated by the FBI and DHS." Ghost added.

"Is interpol still involved?" Roach turned to Ghost.

"They're still after the traces of EMP equipment from the missing persons. Their new lead is that Nero's team is trying out a lethal kind of grenade. One that explodes without damaging property. If he's planning invasion, this is actually a good idea without ruining too much of the invaded country." He replied. Roach nodded at the theory. EMPs only damage mechanical equipment and this was a good call for the bad side.

"I never knew they'd think of this kind of weaponry. I always expected bioweapons being the last of modern warfare." Ghost muttered.

"Well, that was what happened in Verdansk and we stopped it. We could do that again." Alex tried to boost morale.

"Yeah. We'll do whatever it takes." Roach agreed and they continued lunch.

By the time he started training, Roach focused back on his Sniper techniques. His wound may have affected his previous breathing training and it was only inevitable that he'd train it again. He wanted to master the long ranged rifle as it was vital towards his development as a soldier.

"Back on the scope huh." Ghost huffed as they reached their 200 yard mark, by the hill just outside the base.

"Glad you could help me on this one." Roach unzipped the sniper bag and began scouting the area.

"You sure this is your spot?" Ghost asked, using his hand as a visor against the hot afternoon sun.

"Yeah. This fits."

"Suit yourself." He chuckled as Roach snapped every attachment of the rifle, from the bipod stand to the clicker adjustments.

He peeked at the scope and looked at his target. Five small cans standing on top of a log 200 yards away.

"Remember what I told you." Ghost mused as he looked at Roach steadying his breathing.

"Damn." He added as he noticed the change in wind.

"Yeah, damn. I just was about to fire it." Roach muttered as he took another deep breath and began to hold still as his crosshairs adjusted to the shift.

A loud fire echoed across the hills as dust scattered on the ground where Roach fired. He was about a few inches off.

"Great. Do that again but change your adjustments." Ghost said as consolation.

"Yeah got it." He rolled his dial once again and accounted for the wind, easing his breath and fired again. The loud sound once again echoed through the hills, followed by a soft metal can flying away from the log.

"There you go! A clean hit." Ghost congratulated as he tapped Roach's back while he reloaded his sniper and aimed again.

Roach stayed at that spot until it was too dark to continue and Ghost accompanied him until such time. On their way back, Ghost opened up to something that has been bothering him ever since.

"Roach. Do you mind if I say something important?" He asked and it made Roach stop on his tracks.

"Yeah. What's up." Roach asked.

"I've already sent my formal letter, but I just wanted you to have a heads up on the matter." Formal letter. Roach's heart started to pound as his mind automatically thought of him quitting or leaving.

"Letter about?" he asked. His mouth almost felt dry. He didn't want him to leave. Not again.

"Transferring department. Alexandra offered me a spot on the Interpol. I told you this first because I knew that if you were on my shoes, you'd go too, right? Do whatever makes you happy?" he said, quoting Roach's famous words.

He isn't wrong about doing what makes him happy, but his decision didn't feel right either, or maybe because he just doesn't want Ghost to go.

"Well, you bet I'd go for that option too!" Roach said, trying to validate his decision despite not wanting it. It was sad to see him go, but for the first time in ages, Ghost actually acknowledged the term happy.

"I knew you'd understand." he smiled and continued their trail back to the base where Roach remained quiet until they reached the base just in time for dinner.

After dinner, Roach opted for a night jog around the base to clear his mind off of Ghost leaving. After the second lap, he soon noticed Alex catching up to him.

"Wonderful weather for an evening run, huh?" He asked all cheery as he's quite used to his heavier and more realistic leg.

"Yeah. It is. Good to see you're liking Samantha's surprise." Gary nodded and removed his earphones.

"You know, it's really a surprise when I'm the only one who doesn't know about it." He commented.

"It feels like a real leg, actually. The wonders of modern technology never ceases to amaze me." He mused as they both took the turn.

"Yeah? That's good to hear. Pretty sure Samantha loved the way you thanked her." Roach teased as Alex chuckled, like he recalled some memory.

"Oh yeah, she did." Alex nodded suggestively, the kind that Roach didn't want to ask anymore.

"This your last lap?" Roach asked as Alex slowed down for his cooldown, turning to the set of exercise bars.

"Yep. See ya!" He waved as he started his cooldown.

Gary took three more laps just to make sure he's exhausted for the night, so that once he got in his bed, no more thoughts would assault his mind, hindering him from sleep.

There was only one way out of it. And it was accepting Ghost's inevitable departure from the 141.

The next morning, the 141 was briefed on a possible lead on Nero. This time, Ghost wasn't in the room and that meant that his letter was now approved.

"Okay lads. We've received word on a supply drop activity from Nero. We intercepted an unencrypted call signal to an abandoned port just off the coast of Sierra Leone, Africa. If intel is correct, we're going to be dealing with someone who goes by 'Volt', Nero's bomb maker." Price paced in front of the huge screen showing details regarding their mission.

"Volt is a high value individual who must not be killed. He's our only hope towards Nero. The intercepted call came from the USA, and it's quite impossible that Nero is here, so he must've used a secure line. Jack will be staying in the base as our new Operations Command as suggested by Laswell. Overlord will continue his role as our commanding officer as well." Price added making clear about the jurisdiction.

"Damp and dry Africa." Soap muttered.

"Have you been there?" France asked.

"Only in Egypt. My mom used to tag me along her trips." he replied.

"Recon suggests a high chance of militia activity, so our standard rules of engagement; treat anyone as hostile. Volt's compound will be surrounded by his own personal army and they're willing to shoot any unwanted visitors. He also has access to a port, so I'm sending the Charlie team to stand by the shore and make sure they're not planning an escape." he added.

"I'm leading the Alpha team and our task is to infiltrate his base and secure Volt for intel. Bravo team, led by Alex, will act as our support when things go south. As bonus, we need to destroy any trace of bomb making equipment.

Roach, I want you to man our new air support tools from above as soon as we confirm that there are no SAMs on his base." He shot his glare on Roach and he nodded. Guess he isn't on the ground tomorrow.

"We leave tomorrow at 0300. Make your necessary preparations especially on our brand new comms equipment. Ones that are immune to EMP blasts. Dismissed." He said as everyone got up and went on their way. Gary purposefully left himself behind so he could ask Price about the Ghost situation.

"Hey there lad. You feeling good?" Price approached as soon as he noticed Roach.

"I just have a question about the mission."

"Sure. What about it? Any suggestions?"

"No no. The plan is fine. Where will Ghost be?" Price gave him a worried stare.

"Ah. Didn't he tell you about his transfer?" He crossed his arms and stared at Roach.

"He did… but why did you allow it?"

"Well, it certainly looked like he was happy to go there. And I had no power over his commendations." Price reasoned as they walked out of the briefing room.

"Oh. I thought he was going to have one last mission with us." Roach smiled as he walked back to the room. Ghost wasn't a fan of goodbyes. Maybe because he knew they'll meet again.

0300H

Sierra Leone, Africa

"This is Hunter One-One requesting sitrep, over." Roach phoned his allies who were already on the ground for support. This mission was their vital lead towards Nero. He wished that the guy Volt was here so that they could finally finish the war before everyone else gets hurt.

Before he could man the air support, he needed to confirm that there were no SAMs present on their base so he could safely provide suppressing fire from above.

Next Chapter : The SIXth Ship

Notification Squad my Beloved

@whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @bumblingbee1 @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio

Chivalry

For so long, Kairi had been the one who was protected, but now she had to protect the ones who tried their hardest for her.

Part of the Beyond the Horizon series on Ao3. For more updates, follow the beyond the horizon tag on this blog.

Returning to the island where they played as children was difficult on Riku. As much as he tried to hide his inner struggles, they were there, plain as day in Kairi’s eyes. She could tell how he tried not to approach the Secret Place or the furthermost treehouse with its open terrace where the palm trees shaded enough for a nice nap. Walks along a sandy shore with the surf’s chilled foamy waters rolling over their feet were harder when they looked back and found only two sets of footprints instead of three. She didn’t pretend not to notice when Riku squeezed her hand or lingered on the bent paopu tree long past sunset.

A space always left between them for the one who couldn’t be there with them.

For now, she reminded herself. Just for now.

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

“Need another pin.”

Riku’s voice roused her from her thoughts just as the waves crashed against the pier’s wooden posts. A spray of water misting against the soles of her feet as they swung back and forth over the damp wooden boards. Kairi tipped her head to one side then glanced toward the calloused palm hovering in her periphery. The scrapes and bruises unable to be healed by healing magic blended into peach tanned skin, but afternoons spent tracing them with her nails reminded her of where they were. She shuffled slightly, a throbbing ache in her lower back from sitting in one position for so long. Her fingers dipped into the small cup of bobby pins left beside an assortment of colorful hair clips beneath the pom of her moogle backpack. Two plucked out and set in Riku’s palm. Sunlight catching on the glossy black surface until his fingers curled around them and a light kiss was pressed to the top of her head.

“Thank you.”

Kairi smiled to herself, one of her knees pulled to her chest as she leant back against him. His fingers working into her hair with the start of another braid somewhere at the right side of her head. “So you’re going on another world tour after this?” She asked, resting her hand against his thigh, the checkered pattern of his board shorts plucked between her fingertips.

It took a moment longer for him to reply. Always so serious with his work, a distracted hum was his only response for a moment. “Yeah…” He murmured, and she felt him tie off the braid after snapping on a rubber band. “Part of being a Keyblade Master is making sure no one has so much as a hurt toe, I guess.”

“Riku,” she scolded gently.

Although, she could understand his discontent with the task. Masters were charged with the world’s affairs, but in Kairi’s opinion, it seemed too big of a job for one person. Or two, in Aqua and Riku’s case. More than that, she knew what he wanted to do with the access he was given to traversing the worlds but someone had to be there to help. Perhaps they were following Sora’s example by trying to do more for others instead of putting themselves first.

She frowned and curled her fingers around Riku’s knee, squeezing gently. “It has been awhile though, and it would be nice to see everyone again.”

The likelihood of new information cropping up was minuscule but they could take comfort in knowing their friends hadn’t given up. Just as they hadn’t. Riku’s thigh tensed beneath her elbow and his hands stilled in her hair. She could tell he was considering her words or at least the implication set behind them. A light ruffle to the back of her head before he started to gather her hair up in a ponytail.

“Just so long as you don’t disappear into the castle for hours,” he said with a playful scolding tone. “I swear, Ienzo will talk to you forever about science if you let him.”

Kairi smiled, keeping her head stilled as he continued combing his fingers through her hair. “He’s just really passionate about what he does!” She clapped her hands together, fingertips pressing and palms barely touching. “Besides, it’s nice to hear it.”

To be included, if she were honest. So often were things done without her involvement or knowledge. Left out. Left behind. She was sick and tired of being the odd one out who wasn’t expected to do anything. If everyone she loved was going to fight then so was she. Even if it did mean going through lectures and notes Ienzo meticulously prepared, far too eager to share his knowledge with someone else.

After a few moments of idle humming and his hands working through her hair, Kairi bounced and pressed her empty hand to her thigh. “Are we done?” She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice but she desperately wanted to see his work. Growing out their hair again had been a mutual decision for the time being.

The unspoken condition not having to be said when they thought back to their journey before the last. Sora lamenting that he was the only one who hadn’t grown between the three of them. When in her eyes, he was one of the two that had changed the most.

Her bangs were swept to one side in answer, Riku’s lilting hum coming with the soft click of a hair clip. Rough palms gently cupped her cheeks and tipped her head back to where his lips were waiting to brush a kiss against her forehead. It was featherlight and fleeting, ending before she could really enjoy it, but a pleasant touch all the same. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as her lips pulled back in a smile, fingers curled over his own to squeeze.

“Are we done?”

“Mmm…” Sharp shadows cast by the fading afternoon sun darkened Riku’s blue-green eyes, half-lidded as his gaze flicked about her face lingering somewhere above her eyes. “Yep.”

Kairi grinned and brushed his hands away, twisting to kneel between his thighs, her arms thrown around his neck in a tight hug. “Thanks Riku.”

“Welcome,” he murmured. His breath ghosted across her bare shoulder, sending shivers down her spine that had little to do with the water dribbling along her toes. Gentle pressure from his hand flattened against her back in the barest show of affection.

Kairi sighed. Her mouth tucked against the curve of his jaw as she held him close and listened to the waves. One day, she wished, one day Riku would be able to accept the love they had to give him. As a friend and hopefully something else. She pulled back enough to hold him by the shoulders, ignoring a faint flutter in her chest when he looked up at her from beneath silver-white eyelashes.

“How about we go tomorrow?”

Surprise flickered across Riku’s features, and Kairi could understand why. Abrupt departures were something they tried to avoid when finding a new normal. But normal was far off for either of them. “Fine by me,” he said after a brief pause, a small smile quirked at the corners of his lips. “Little late today anyway. Your grandpa will kick my ass if you disappear without telling him.”

Kairi stifled a giggle behind a closed fist drawn to her mouth while her other hand thumped against Riku’s shoulder scoldingly. While she could recall the mayor’s stricken face when she returned to the main land, it was his weeping in private that’d made her reluctant to leave so soon.

“He’s been letting up just a little with letting me go more, but I still should tell him.”

The hand against her lower back hovered somewhere near her hip with the other joining it to keep her steady. Riku shifted backward to make room for her to clamor up onto the pier, the items spilled out of their shared backpack stored away.

“Lucky you,” she heard Riku say as he tried to free the moogle’s pom from the pack’s zipper. Her reflection in her gummiphone’s camera smiling and observing the three braids, clip and high ponytail he’d done with interest.

Once their pack was closed and hiked up on Riku’s shoulder, he held his hand out to her and Kairi took it with a light squeeze. She hooked her fingers in the opening of her sneakers and carried them at her side as they walked down the pier. Riku strolling down the steps one by one while Kairi hopped two by two. Their uneven pace dragged him forward a bit and only after he nudged her shoulder did she decide to slow down. Moisture along the soles of her feet made the sand cling between her toes, a soft krrch as she rubbed them together, enjoying the grit and slight sink of her heels in the sun warmed shores.

It only made sense for her to walk in the surf, she pointed out to Riku as she tugged him over. Glistening waters washed over her feet and barely touched the soles of his sandals although he made sure to gripe about it every time it came close. Their talks ranged from his mother’s experiments with the Keyblade out of sheer engineering delight, and their respective guardians’ reactions to learning there were other worlds outside of their own. While her grandfather seemed to accept it well enough, Riku’s mother was infinitely curious.

Like mother, like son.

“My mom’s been worried every time I talk about a new world. Chip and Dale gave her a gummiphone to ease her worry, and they’ve been talking non-stop about prototypes and who knows what else.”

Kairi giggled. “Little victories, Riku.”

He shot her a look of mock annoyance. “Always looking on the bright side, aren’t you? Let me sulk a bit, will ya?”

As they crossed beneath the bridge connecting the island to the smaller one a bit further from its shores, Kairi pretended to think it over. Shade provided by the wood was filtered with glimmers of light between the cracks and openings. It’d been awhile since Sora’s dad came to patch the bridge up. She could hardly imagine what it would be like a few years from now. Rolling her eyes up to the small streaks of sunlight, she hummed then shook her head.

“Nope!” She swung their hands back and forth, smiling despite his withering stare. “Not allowed.”

Riku sighed heavily, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Princess.

Kairi swallowed. She hardly thought of the title much in the recent year or two. Not like when she’d been pulled from their island the first time. Her heart vied after because it was that of a princesses’. Seeing all of those empty faces, vacant eyes, Sora’s pain to strive and get her back but all he saw was a shell. She wasn’t truly inside. She was part of him. The princess who needed saving was right by his side all along but unable to do a thing.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” She asked, trying to keep the mood jovial but the bitter thought soured her tone.

Riku’s half-jesting smile fell, a single brow raised as they slowed to a stop half-way beneath the bridge. “Why would I?”

“Because I’m not really a princess,” she said. Not at all. Even from the world she truly came from, there was nothing about her that was princess-like. Only a little girl who enjoyed flowers and her grandmother’s stories.

“What? You mean like the ones in fairy tales?”

Something in her snapped at the mention of fairy tales. Her grandmother’s face, weathered with age but sincere with greyed eyes and a chipper smile. “Yes,” she huffed. Riku snorted and shook his head. Kairi frowned. Just what was he not understanding? “I’m not a princess.”

She squeezed his hand and the last of the humor drained out of him as he stared down at her, his eyes seeming to glow in the weak light.

“Okay, and what is a princess to you?”

Her mouth fell open and for a moment, she wasn’t sure what to say. Her grandmother described princesses in one way or another with all of the stories of young women scattered across time in different worlds.

“Someone that’s meant to be royalty,” Kairi started, ticking off the traits on her fingers. “Calming, kind, gentle, loving, caring.”

With it laid out before her, she had to attest that she wasn’t any of those things. Hardly calming with the amount of trouble that stirred with her mere presence. Kind was an overstatement. She was nice when she wanted to be and otherwise, if someone really deserved it then she’d let them have it. Gentle, absolutely not. Loving, her gaze flicked to Riku and his thoughtful expression then the image of Sora in her mind.

Caring? If she cared, then neither of them would be like —

“Wanna know what a princess is like to me?” Riku interjected, cutting off the poisonous thoughts and dragging her back to reality. His eyes were glowing in the darkness and seemed to only render her silent as all she could do was muster a nod. “Someone like you.”

With how resolutely he spoke the words, she couldn’t think of anything to say in response. Transfixed on his face and the stern set of his jaw as he held her hand a bit tighter.

“So what if you weren’t meant to be royalty. Half the people who are don’t deserve it anyway,” he seemed to consider something then shrugged half-heartedly. “Sans the king and queen that is.”

Kairi tried not to laugh as Riku mumbled and fumbled with his words. It was sincere and she felt the biting souring thoughts begin to drift backward. Not out of mind but further from the centre of it.

“People have to want to follow you and listen to you. You think Donald and Goofy would’ve chased after Mickey for so long if they didn’t at least like him?”

She had to give him a point on that one. King Mickey, despite all of his faults, was fairly likable if not a little cute. Donald was a bit of a livewire while Goofy could be a bit lazy now and again. For both of them to run around the worlds with Sora in search of their lost king, he had to be something.

Still, that changed little in what she thought. Her fingers pressed against his own, their palms warm and a bit clammy. “Who would want to listen to me?”

Her voice rarely reached. When Sora needed encouragement, when he was at his lowest and felt abandoned by all those around him, she could barely summon a word to help him out. But she could hear him calling to her all the time from where she slept. Assuring her that he would come and rescue her, that he missed her, that they would all be together again. Riku did the same but his words were harsher. He assured he would protect her, that he wouldn’t let anything else harm her, that they’d go elsewhere — all three of them — just like they said.

They were all blinded and unable to hear.

And all she wanted was for them to listen to what she had to say.

Riku tugged her close by the hand, her toes catching in the sand as she fell into the solid warmth of his chest. His hand pressed to her back as he held her close.

“Me. Right now.… Hear me out?”

Kairi curled her fingers in the back of his tank top and pressed her forehead to his chest, nodding slowly. Riku felt sturdy and firm, solid with enough softness that she could be sure he wasn’t made out of stone. His fingers brushed against the swell of her ponytail and she hugged him tighter around his middle.

“You’re kind, you’re caring…” He snorted and flicked the ends of her hair, sending them sweeping against her shoulders with a light tickle that made a giggle bubble up in her throat. “And very stubborn.”

Kairi huffed, patting his back lightly. “So are you.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t mind being a princess,” Riku said in a snobbish tone. Kairi biting back laughter by burying her face against his chest. His own chuckles felt as vibrations beneath her cheek. “Let me finish.”

She nodded slowly and brought her other hand around his middle, her sneakers knocking together as she hooked her hands by her pinkies. Riku’s hand settled against the top of her head and smoothed down her hair. The distant crash of waves, trickling frorm the makeshift waterfall near the little cove they called their Secret Place. Even the gentle creaking of the wood as it groaned beneath a salty breeze rolled in from the ocean. It all reminded her so much of home.

“You’re kind but you don’t let people walk over you. You know your worth, what you put your time into you’re passionate about. And you do your best to help. That’s why people listen to you. You’re always trying, we can rely on you. Remember when we found Chocolina as kids? You calmed her down because you’re you. That’s your power, Kairi.”

She buried her face against his chest. It was difficult to stop herself from doing it. With all of what he said, she couldn’t help but try to find some alternative. When they needed her most — her voice couldn’t reach them, but she was trying now. That meant something, didn’t it? Sora’s infectious cheer, all of his positive-thinking, it might have been rubbing off on them for awhile now. As much as she wanted to be upset with herself, she wanted to take this chance even more.

Riku’s hand settled against her shoulder, strong and unyielding, but gentle as he pulled back from her. His blue-green eyes softened, fingers curling beneath her chin to tilt her head up. Concern stole his smile and his thumb swiped under her eye, smearing a tear against her skin. She sniffed and offered him a smile as her hand came up to cup the back of his own.

“So what if you’re not one of the ones in the story. I never was really into the damsel in distress type anyway.”

Kairi covered her mouth hurriedly, a snort that was definitely unprincess-like left them both sputtering in laughter. Riku leant down and his forehead pressed to hers as they laughed and smiled. If a few tears slipped past then neither of them mentioned it. Only wiping it away with the crooks of fingers and a reassuring glance. Her hand slipped into Riku’s again and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“But if it bothers you, I’ll stop calling you that,” he promised, and she knew that he meant it.

The walk from beneath the bridge was slower and as they approached the other side of the sands, Kairi glanced up at him.

“Riku?”

He gave a soft hum, his head turned the other way, eyes focused on the ramshackle doorway which led to the other part of the island. She wondered what he was thinking. Would it have been the race he had with Sora? Or when they were finally putting the last touches on their raft.

“… Be my prince?”

His hold on her hand tightened considerably and absently, Kairi had to wonder if he was holding back his real strength all the time. His head whipped around and in the scarlet sunrays, she could see the faint touch of pink in his cheeks. “What?”

She tipped her head to one side, feigning innocence with a small smile. “Too much?”

“W- I mean…” Riku sputtered, and Kairi tried her best not to laugh. It wasn’t often that she saw him at a loss for words or this shy. He lifted a hand, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m not really the prince type, Kairi.”

“Of course you are,” she insisted, feeling just a bit of payback was in order along with honesty. “You’re kind and patient, and you always come to the rescue when you’re needed. Besides, I feel safe around you.”

With each trait listed off, Riku seemed to grow more and more shy. She wanted to pull him into another hug and assure him that it was true. All of the words she was speaking, the meaning behind them, they were absolutely true. Riku always thought the worst of himself and although she knew he was changing to begin with — this wasn’t what she wanted.

He didn’t deserve to suffer for his mistakes forever.

“If you’re really set on having a prince, save that spot for Sora.”

Kairi’s eyes widened as the name fell from Riku’s lips. He didn’t shy away from speaking about Sora in matters of finding him or the deeds he committed for the sake of the worlds. But on their own, in times when it was only them, he seemed to dance around speaking his name as if he was unworthy of saying it. His hand fell from the back of his neck, hanging loosely at his side as he gazed northward past the broken fence partly submerged where it hung off from the shores and dipped into the ocean.

Kairi followed his line of sight and for a second, she could imagine Sora hopping along the posts while they urged him to be careful. His sunny grin wet when he accidentally slipped and fell into the water, splashing about in surprise. Riku ran after him without hesitation and Kairi returned to the treehouses to grab a few of the sheets to help them dry off after. She squeezed his fingers again as the memory faded along with Sora’s laughter.

“Then what are you?” She asked, turning her gaze back to Riku. He surprised her, constantly. Always deflecting positive affirmations to someone else. She knew that he didn’t mean to. That he was trying to stay within the lines that he’d set and not stray from them. Time would help them both but she wasn’t sure what all was needed. How far did they have to go before they could be together without feeling guilty again.

Riku shrugged, sheepish but receptive as he glanced toward her. A pride in his eyes that reminded her of the boy who proclaimed they’d leave their home world with a simple call of ‘Let’s go’.

“The knight who keeps you both safe.”

Kairi shook her head, tugging lightly on their hands. “We keep each other safe, Riku,” she chided gently, tipping her head skyward. “And we’ll save our prince and then…”

“Happily ever after.”

Kairi looked to him in surprise, the vague amusement showing in his eyes as he laced their fingers together then turned his gaze skyward.

“Yeah,” she echoed back as she stared at him numbly, then turned her gaze upward once more. “Happily ever after…”

Childhood Friends

Title: Childhood Friends

Category: Pokemon

Relationship: implied Bederia 

Rating: T

Summary: Before Bede went into the orphanage, he was friends with Gloria. They had promised to always be friends, but Gloria moved to Postwick and Bede’s life fell apart.  Years later, they meet again as rivals and it is only after Gloria becomes the Champion that she attacks Bede in a way she’s been wanting to do since the Opening Ceremony. 

Author’s Note: Merry Christmas to everyone, especially to jane-plane and pkmntrashcan who makes some of the most awesome Pokemon fanfiction stories. Also, when I get into a new fandom/shipdom it takes me awhile to get used to writing them. So I’m sorry that this isn’t one of my best works in terms of characters.

Disclaimer: I own no rights to the Pokemon franchise.

~~Story Begins~~

Red.

That was all Bede could see when he saw Gloria enter the Pokemon League with another young boy who he never saw before. The kid claiming that he was the younger brother and the one who will defeat the undefeated Champion. 

This kid claiming that Gloria was his rival with the brightest smile on his face. She looked so happy to be in the league.

“That’s okay,” Bede said to his Hatenna who seemed like it wanted to run away from her trainer. “I don’t need Gloria. It seems like she has moved on and so will I.”

~~

Gloria knew Bede the moment he pushed Hop and herself aside, but she did not know the person who he has become. He had always pushed her past her limits when they were younger with small insults that actually encouraged her to keep going, but he wasn’t cold or arrogant about it. He wasn’t the Bede that she knew and wondered if this change of attitude is why he stopped sending her letters.

Hop drags her out of the building before she can talk to Bede. She looks over her shoulder towards the challenger in the pink coat who locks eyes with her in an intense glare.

~~

Bede did not remember the reason why he’s in the Wild Area, waist deep in water as he glares at the tiny island. He knows he’s looking for a Gallade to add onto his team, but he doesn’t remember why.

Did Opal ask him to? Was it to try and keep his Gardevior and Hatterina from fighting? Would that even work? Would anything stop those two from fighting? Who knows?

Bede does know that if he takes one more step towards the island than he’ll have to start swimming which was not on his plans for today.

Why hasn’t he caught himself a water-type Pokemon for situations like these yet?

“Bede!” A female voice said from behind them. It made him flinch at first before he heard splashes behind him in a rapid succession. That caused him to spin around just as that other annoying voice yelled for Gloria to stop.

Once he turned around, he saw the familiar and old (why did she keep that old thing) green knitted hat on the shore and a blur of dark blue hair in his eyes. He felt their combined weight go backwards as the momentum pushed them to the deeper part of the lake. Arms had wrapped around his stomach with just enough room to wiggle his own arms free from the gasp as his eyes went wide.

A loud splash later with some disorientation, Bede found himself underwater as schools of Magikarps and Mantykes swim away. His white hair stuck to his head but he looked up and with the weight of a Champion who still clung onto his body. He kicked his legs upwards and took a big gasp of air as he broke through the surface.

“Why did you do that?” Bede said as he tried to push Gloria off of him with a glare while treading water. “I didn’t want to swim today!”

“I told you that I would get payback someday when we were children. This was my chance, but I didn’t know you was this deep in the water,” Gloria said.

“Whatever,” Bede said. “Let go of me so we can swim to the shore. I need to go home and change into dry clothes.”

“I can’t swim.”

“Gloria, Bede, are you two okay?” Hop asked from the shore. 

“You still don’t know how to swim? After all of these years, you still didn’t learn how to swim?” Bede said in a scream. “Why did you think I pushed you into the lake the first time? Just to spite you? To make your day horrible?”

“I did get sick the next day, no thanks to you,” Gloria said back.

“And did I not apologize everyday when I visited you when I brought over your homework and soup?” Bede said with a huff. He took a look at the Champion who clung to him like a child. 

Her brown eyes showed fear as her bottom lip trembled, her skin made her look like a human ghost and would have put Allister’s mask to shame.

“You’re still terrified of water, aren’t you,” Bede said in a whisper. 

Nod.

Bede let out a sigh. “It won’t do me good to let the Champion drown then. Who else will give me a challenge?”

“Is it because of that and not the fact that there is a witness?” Gloria said with a chuckle as Bede moved her behind him and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“That’s also a factor, a small through,” Bede said with sarcasm. A small slap on the back of his shoulder made him smile.

~~

Bede gave a skeptical look to Gloria as he held onto a Luxury ball that Gloria just gave him. 

“What’s this?” he asked.

“An apology for yesterday. I didn’t mean to cause that much trouble,” Gloria said. “I also need to know something.”

“What do you possibly need to know?”

“Why did you quit writing to me?” Gloria said. “It was something Mom and I couldn’t figure out.”

“I didn’t. You quit writing to me. Once I went into the orphanage, I never received a single letter from you,” Bede said. “I sent letters begging for you and your mom to adopt me so I wouldn’t have to stay there anymore. It was horrible there and you just abandoned me.”

“No. We never received anything like that,” Gloria said with a shake of her head. “When Mom had heard what happened, we went to the orphanage to find you. They said you were already at the Trainer School because you were adopted by Rose.”

“Obviously, someone has lied to you then. That man never adopted me,” Bede said with another venom in his voice to make a poison-type Pokemon look tame. “He used me to achieve his desires and then tossed me aside.” 

Bede expression changed from murderous to shock as he finally registered what she just said.

“Wait, you and your Mom were looking for me,” Bede said. “You didn’t abandon me?”

Gloria shook her head. “No. I wanted to hug you and cry when we saw each other at the Opening Ceremony because for the longest time I thought you were dead. Hop wouldn’t let me breathe from all of his excitement and then your were cold and arrogant. I didn’t have a chance to truly talk to you until now, but Hop wants a rematch and I really need to get going.”

Bede just raised an eyebrow.

“So, uhm. Mom would like for you to come over anytime. You can bring Opal with you. She misses you as well and it will give us some time to catch up.”

Bede watched as Gloria left the Ballonlea Gym. He thought the crush he had on her when they were children had disappeared. It just returned ten-fold and he knows for a fact that Opal will pick up on it within one minute of his next training session with her.

marked for death | casey & jesse

Date: Friday, October 9th Summary: Casey receives some discouraging news. Jesse is along for the ride.

Um, what? What do you mean it's about me? 

 ... 

Well, what did it say? 

 ... 

The son of Iris WHAT?! 

--- 

Casey had never considered going on a quest before, but it seemed now that he had no say in the matter. It should be fairly simple, Chiron had tried to assure him. All you're doing is figuring out why Persephone never met up with Hades at the turning of Fall. 

 If it were 'fairly simple,' then why in the FUCK does it say that I'm gonna die?!

Chiron had shown Casey and Jesse the prophecy that was delivered that Spring.

Drifting the edge of the swallowing sea, 

The drowned and the deathless shall answer the plea. 

In the land of the dead, two kings shall meet. 

A cyclops will rise in desert heat. 

The son of Iris by phantom is slain, 

For the weaver of dreams, an old fear must drain.

By the tone of Chiron's voice, it was almost like he was reading off a grocery list and not foretelling the death of someone standing right in front of him. Casey tried his best to stay focused as Chiron prattled on about the details—something about meeting Demeter in Bermuda, she's not picking up her phone, blah, blah, blah—but Casey couldn't stop thinking about that line of the prophecy. 

"By phantom is slain?" Casey repeated again, turning to Jesse as they walked out of the Big House. "What the fuck do you think that's supposed to mean? I don't fuck with ghosts, what the hell do they have against me?"

So much information had been handed over to the two of them– a quest, a new prophecy, a missing goddess– that Jesse had surpassed overwhelmed in the first few minutes and entered a very pleasant stage of complete calm. This was so far from how he had imagined his day going, it all felt too unreal to let fully sink in. 

If Jesse had to name his least favourite things, he would narrow it down to Patrick, large bodies of water, and ghosts. Two out of three in one prophecy was foreboding– but the explicit threat of Casey's murder by phantom was doing a passable job of overshadowing his own trepidation. 

Considering they had just been chosen for a quest together, Jesse should have been less surprised when Casey spoke to him. He rubbed the side of his neck and looked to the side away from him, grasping for some sort of silver lining to offer. "Uh, I mean, prophecies are vague, right? They never end up meaning what seems... obvious? It could be a, uh, a metaphor or something." Slain sounded pretty cut and dry as to what it meant, but saying that out loud seemed a little unnecessary. "I guess you don't have any undead enemies that come to mind?"

"Um, no. I don't know any undead. Is that a thing?" Casey's voice grew quiet. "Fuck, is that a thing?" Immediately, Casey thought of Gabriele, who could see ghosts wandering around New Athens and mention them casually in conversation. Maybe Gabriele could tell Casey if there were any ghosts out to get him. "Okay, but do I actually have to go on this quest? That's kinda fucked up, that they would know that I'm in danger and still choose to send me anyway. Why couldn't they just send literally anybody else?"

The number of questions Jesse clearly had no answer to was starting to give him a headache. With a shrug, he glanced back over at Casey. Jesse didn't know which direction Casey was headed or how long they were supposed to discuss this for, so he slowed to a stop, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I really don't know. Uh, I guess you're the only son of Iris at camp? I don't even know why that prophecy links to Persephone, or why they think it applies now."

"But I'm not!" Casey defended. "August is here sometimes! Right? Is he here right now?" Casey's mind was racing so quickly it felt like the world was blurring around him. The distant roar of the ocean slapping against the shore sounded more like the approaching drone of a swarm of locusts. Even the chirp of nearby crickets felt slowed, each one ringing out like a siren. 

Fuck. Casey looked over at Jesse, who looked like he was mid-stroke, his eyes stuck halfway down his eyeballs. 

Okay. Calm the fuck down, Casey thought. It'll be fine. Your mom will step in. You'll be cool. 

Jesse's eyelashes fell like feathers, slowly and finally landing on the creased circles below Jesse's eyes. Then slowly, like the grand curtain of an opera house, they started to rise again. 

I can't fucking believe Chiron would send me out on a quest knowing full well what the prophecy says is gonna happen to me. And in three days? Are you fucking kidding me? I don't even have a week to prepare for my motherfucking death mission? That's some BULLSHIT. Sushi-grade bullshit, I swear to fucking gods. 

Casey released the breath he was holding in, and suddenly the crickets around him were chirping again. Casey looked at Jesse and waited a few seconds until he blinked, this time at normal speed, before looking away. "What the fuck do we even do now?"

Jesse spread his hands in the air in front of him and shrugged, coming up blank as to whether Casey’s brother was around. His attention wandered over in the direction of the cabins as he considered how the topic related to him, now- weaver of dreams certainly described the way his abilities worked, but he wasn’t the only child of Morpheus with that power. A small anxious weight settled on his chest at the idea that he had been chosen by mistake, but he breathed through it, recalling his last conversation with his father. Morpheus had definitely hinted that something important was approaching for Jesse. It doesn’t get much more important than this. 

Casey’s voice pulled him back out of his head and Jesse ran one of his hands over his face, exhaling. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this for years, but it seemed wrong to embrace the thrill of it over the nerves when the person he was accompanying had just been given what sounded like a death sentence. “Uh, I guess we pack? We should figure out, uh, a vague plan, too. Two of my siblings just came back from quests, I can ask them what the... what the protocol is, I guess?”

"Sure. Yeah," Casey agreed emptily. But they came back from those quests alive, what they fuck would they know? Casey stopped and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Here. Call yourself so I have your number."

Jesse took Casey's phone and stared at the keypad, willing his brain to work. After a couple seconds stewing in how awkward his life was, Jesse had to hand back the phone without typing anything in, his cheeks red. "I, uh, don't remember my phone number. Sorry. Can you write yours down?"

"What? What do you mean you don't remember?" Casey stuffed his phone back into his pocket and held out his hand with an eye roll. "Just give me your phone, I'll type mine in."

Jesse bit the inside of his cheek and checked his pockets even though he knew his phone wasn’t there. “Uh, damn, I think I forgot it at home? Or work. Maybe.”

Casey clasped his hands over his face. "I'm gonna fucking die..." He took a deep breath. "I'm gonna fucking die because you won't answer your texts!" he screamed through his palms. He dropped his hands and stared straight at Jesse, his expression deadpan. "Do you have a pen and paper?"

Jesse winced at the reaction and ran a hand through his hair. “I... don’t,” he answered hesitantly, wishing that for some reason he did have a notebook in his back pocket that he had just forgotten about. “Sorry.” He swallowed back an embarrassing string of other apologies. “I can, uh, get it from...” It took a couple seconds to remember anyone the two of them had in common. “Uh, Alec? And text you from my place once I have my phone?”

"Fine," Casey agreed plainly. "Where do you live?"

"The Morpheus townhouse," Jesse responded quickly, relieved there was finally a question he knew the answer to. "In town."

Casey nodded. "If you don't text me, I will break through your windows with a shovel and find you." He turned toward the Iris cabin and stomped off.

Jesse sighed as he watched Casey leave, the nervous excitement that had built during the meeting with Chiron fizzling out. He waited until Casey was out of sight, scuffed the tip of his shoe against the ground, and turned to head in the direction of his townhouse. He had to start packing.

Orphan - 2

Starring: Fem!Reader and MCU characters! Contents: Spoilers for Endgame!! Takes place after the Attack on New York and The Snappening and deals with both. Angst, confusion, loneliness, sadness, loss, a twinge of humour maybe, clarifications, more mystery.

2. Back to the Roots

You’ve managed to get a bed in a hostel, probably paying overprize now that the demand has risen suddenly. Rumours fly that the returned are starting to find abandoned homes in the outskirts of the city, but it’s just rumours and you don’t really feel like heading further out considering how things are looking just on Manhattan. Derelict. New York City has been a ghost town, and even now as the ghosts have taken physical form it’s going to take a lot of work to set things right.

Your mind is far from the worries of what’s to come.

Lying on your stomach on the squeaky bed, a fat stack of papers rests before you together with a very fancy cell phone (accompanied by charger and ear plugs). There’s a recording on that which you haven’t dared watch yet, favouring the documents instead…and those you’ve read and re-read so many times you can almost recite the contents by heart.

“Fuck me…” you sigh as you bury the face in the musty pillow.

“Now now,” Gloria tuts sweetly, “chin up baby girl, it’s gonna work out just fiiine, ya wait ‘n see.”

Gloria is another returned. Originally from Harlem, she’d been surprised to find the rest of the family had moved to New Orleans sometime during the five years. Surprised but not dejected. Kindness incarnate, she has an ability to find the silver lining and she’s become the unofficial mother hen for everyone on the hostel. Soft, round, and with an understanding smile that holds just as much unruliness as her gorgeous ‘fro bobbing on the top of her head, the woman might as well have been made for caring.

Now she tiptoes over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed to give you a friendly squeeze. “Tell mama Glory what’s up, hon.”

It’s a jumbled mess of memories and explanations you present her with, and it takes a while before you’ve calmed down enough to really begin to make sense. Gloria lets you talk, holding you close and rocking you gently when the memories of your mother are too hard, and all the while the sounds from outside filter in through the half-open window, hinting at a life where people reunite and are happy.

“Okay, so ya tellin’ meh tha’ yar daddy was there all along but he ain’t got the balls t’ tell ya?” It stings to hear it put so simply. “But nooow he gone left y’a message sayin’, ‘girly come find meh I’m sorry’? Well shugs! Sounds to meh like ya owe it t’yaself more than him to go face the guy, don’tcha think so?”

“…I can’t…” The sweet woman looks at you with a puzzled look until you point at a name on one of the documents. “He died yesterday.” Leaving behind a wife and a daughter – your half-sister.

 …   Morgan   …

Grown-ups are coming and going, all sending her tiny smiles that don’t reach the eyes before they go to mom. Mom’s sad. She cries a lot but only when she thinks Morgan doesn’t see, like last night when she should’ve been asleep but snuck out of bed to get a juice pop. Dad will know what to say…but he’s not here and mom cries even more when Morgan asks when he’ll be home, then they cuddle up with blankies and their favourite books or maybe even a movie instead of mom telling what is going on and where dad is.

Then there’s a day where mom sits Morgan down. Nose red and eyes puffy.

“There’s something I have to explain, sweetie,” mommy begins as fresh tears dangle from her pretty lashes, “about daddy…”

It doesn’t quite make sense how dad has left without going to any place. People can’t just be gone, can they? Morgan knows the story of when daddy went to space and found auntie Nebula, but this isn’t like that. At least it doesn’t feel like that.

…

The next day the house is full of people again. Most are grown-ups as usual but there are a few almost-grown-ups. Everyone talks very quietly, making Morgan nervous about being too loud or too wild…maybe it would upset mommy anyways, so it’s better to be good even if it itches in her entire tiny body to pull a prank or say something funny the way dad always does. But she doesn’t, sticking instead closely to mom or Happy while looking at the many people.

I’ve seen them on pictures. Photographs with daddy from before Morgan was born or old movie clips that she once found when playing with FRIDAY without dad knowing. A few of them came around to the house as well and it had made dad upset, she could tell. Now they’re all here, watching silently as the flowers and the metal flow out onto the lake like it belongs there instead of with mommy and Morgan and Happy.

That’s when she sees the woman standing on the other shore. Silent and alone, it looks like she’s hugging herself. I’ll hug her! But it’s far to the other side, and when Morgan finally has gotten the attention of a grown-up, Nebula, and turns to point her out then she’s gone.

 …   Reader   …

Tears sting in your eyes and you’re not even sure why because you’d never gotten to know the man! He hauled your ass out of a damaged building, but that’s it, that’s the only fatherly thing he’s openly done for you…well that and apparently save the world from getting torn apart by some purple space-grape of a giant…and returned all of you who’d been dusted. But nothing that gave you the right to scour the internet for clues just so you could show up like some creep and watch his funeral from afar.

Wiping the face angrily, you stumble through the woods without bothering to skirt around bushes or avoid sliding on the half-rotten branches hidden beneath old leaves. It’s a pure miracle that you can see enough to notice the shining metal swinging at you and stopping an inch before your throat.

“Who are you?” There’s anger in the female voice, anger and pain.

More concerned with what appears to be a fucking sword than the speaker, you focus on standing stock still rather than answer. Wrong move. Slowly but surely, the incredibly sharp looking blade advances, driving you backwards until your back hits the trunk of a tree.

“Who are you?” the angry woman repeats, “Why did you spy?”

“I’m – I didn- it was stupid! Okay?!”

Frantic with fear you finally look up only to receive a new shock at the sight of the owner of the voice: blue skin, eyes that looks like the black emptiness of camera lenses but even that’s not the weirdest. It’s the parts that are obviously metal that gets to you. This is a dream, a nightmare. This can’t be real.

Maybe she’s used to people staring and perhaps it annoys her, or she’s hell bend on finding out the truth that she allows the metal edge to rest against your throat for a second before she pulls it away, raising it overhead with a sneer, ready to slice through your faltered excuses and throat. Oh crap. I’m gonna get killed by a Smurf.

“Nebula!” A new arm appears from behind you to grab the woman’s wrist, quickly followed by the owner who looks considerably more normal. “You can’t just go around stabbing people. We’ve been over this…”

The blue woman, who doesn’t seem overly cloud-like, shifts uneasily like a toddler who has to explain why they were doing something bad. “I was…not gonna stab her…just decapitate her.”

“Please…just le-let me go!”

It’s nothing more than a croak that escapes your lips but it’s enough to make the man turn awkwardly to face you. Shit... The face isn’t that of an unknown. You’ve seen it on photos from news outlets but more importantly from the files Tony Stark had left in the bank box for you, explain who you can trust if you ever come back and want to get a hold of him. You’re staring into the face of James Rhodes and he’s staring right back, mouth agape as he takes in your features and especially eyes.

“You’re Tony’s big girl,” he simply states.

The Face - Volume 4 . Issue 1

A hand­shake can quell polit­i­cal unrest and sti­fle impend­ing war. It can, with a bit of spit, val­i­date a gentleman’s agree­ment, end a years-long roman­tic rela­tion­ship or send a young heart rac­ing. But it all depends on the two par­ties involved.

Daisy, 21, felt a seis­mic jolt when Har­ry Styles, 25, wear­ing a striped jumper and rings on three of his five fin­gers, clutched her hand two days after this year’s Met Gala in New York, when she served him gela­to at the shop where she worked.

“He decid­ed on a small mint choco­late gela­to and I made his and the one for his friend and I said, ​‘Can I just say I absolute­ly loved your Met Gala look’ and he said ​‘Thank you very much! What’s your name?’ And I said, ​‘Daisy’ AND HE FUCK­ING EXTEND­ED HIS HAND AND REACHEDTO SHAKE MY HAND AND I ACTU­AL­LY FUCK­ING SHOOK HIS HAND WHAT THEFUCK,” she wrote on Insta­gram after The Shak­en­ing. ​“Like I didn’t even say any­thing to gas him up besides ​‘I loved your met gala look’ and his fine ass went and shook my hand! WHATA BEAU­TI­FUL FUCK­ING HUMAN BEING THAT HE IS GOD BLESS HIM AND I HOPE HW[sic] LIVES FOREVER.”

For Har­ry Styles, a hand­shake can be a roman­tic ges­ture, con­jur­ing a potent rev­er­ence in its recip­i­ent, like the time he met Gucci’s cre­ative direc­tor Alessan­dro Michele. ​“He was as attrac­tive as James Dean and as per­sua­sive as Gre­ta Gar­bo. He was like a Luchi­no Vis­con­ti char­ac­ter, like an Apol­lo: at the same time sexy as a woman, as a kid, as a man,” Michele told me, has­ten­ing to add: ​“Of course, Har­ry is not aware of this.”

No, Styles has no idea the pow­er he wields. In per­son, he’s tow­er­ing, like some­one who is not that much taller but whose rep­u­ta­tion adds four inch­es. Styles has a seda­tive bari­tone, spo­ken in a rum­my north­ern Eng­lish accent, that tum­bles out so slow­ly you for­get the name of your first born, a swag­ger that has been nursed and per­fect­ed in myth­i­cal places with names like Pais­ley Park, or Abbey Road, or Grace­land. Makes com­plete sense that he would be up for the role of Elvis Pres­ley in Baz Luhrmann’s upcom­ing biopic. He was primed, nay, born to shake his hips, all but one but­ton on his shirt cling­ing for dear life around his tor­so. Then the part was award­ed to anoth­er actor, Austin Butler.

“[Elvis] was such an icon for me grow­ing up,” Styles tells me. ​“There was some­thing almost sacred about him, almost like I didn’t want to touch him. Then I end­ed up get­ting into [his life] a bit and I wasn’t dis­ap­point­ed,” he adds of his ini­tial research and prepa­ra­tions to play The King. He seems relaxed about los­ing the part to But­ler. ​“I feel like if I’m not the right per­son for the thing, then it’s best for both of us that I don’t do it, you know?”

Styles released his self-titled debut solo album in May 2017. The boy­band grad was clear­ly unin­ter­est­ed in hol­low­ing out the charts with more for­mu­la­ic meme pop. Instead, to the sur­prise of many, he dug his heels into retro-fetishist West Coast ​’70s rock. Some of the One Direc­tion fan-hordes might have been con­fused, but no mat­ter: Har­ry Styles sold one mil­lion copies.

Despite its com­mer­cial and crit­i­cal suc­cess, he didn’t tour the album right away. He want­ed to act in the Christo­pher Nolan film Dunkirk. To his cred­it, his por­tray­al of a British sol­dier cow­er­ing in a moored boat on the French beach­es as the Nazis advanced wasn’t skew­ered in the press like the movie debuts of, say, Madon­na or Justin Tim­ber­lake. Per­haps he was fol­low­ing advice giv­en by Elton John, who had urged him to diver­si­fy. ​“He was bril­liant in Dunkirk, which took a lot of peo­ple by sur­prise,” John writes in an email. ​“I love how he takes chances and risks.” Act­ing, unlike music, is a release for Styles; it’s the one time he can be not himself.

“Why do I want to act? It’s so dif­fer­ent to music for me,” he says, sud­den­ly ani­mat­ed. ​“They’re almost oppo­site for me. Music, you try and put so much of your­self into it; act­ing, you’re try­ing to total­ly dis­ap­pear in who­ev­er you’re being.”

Fol­low­ing the news that he missed out on Pres­ley, his name was float­ed for the role of Prince Eric in Disney’s live-action remake of The Lit­tle Mer­maid. How­ev­er, fans will have to wait a bit longer to see Styles on the big screen as that idea, too, has sunk. He won’t be The King or the Prince. ​“It was dis­cussed,” he acknow­ledges before swift­ly chang­ing the sub­ject. ​“I want to put music out and focus on that for a while. But every­one involved in it was amaz­ing, so I think it’s going to be great. I’ll enjoy watch­ing it, I’m sure.”

The new album is wrapped and the sin­gle is decid­ed upon. ​“It’s not like his last album,” his friend, rock ​‘n’ roll leg­end Ste­vie Nicks, told me recent­ly over the phone. ​“It’s not like any­thing One Direc­tion ever did. It’s pure Har­ry, as Har­ry would say. He’s made a very dif­fer­ent record and it’s spectacular.”

Beyond that, Styles is keep­ing his cards close to his chest as to his next musi­cal move. How­ev­er, the air is thick with rumours that his main wing­man for HS2 is Kid Har­poon, aka Tom Hull, who co-wrote debut album track Sweet Crea­ture. No less an author­i­ty than Liam Gal­lagher told us that both big band escapees were in the same stu­dio – RAK in north-west Lon­don – at the same time mak­ing their sec­ond solo albums. Styles played him a cou­ple of tracks, ​“and I tell you what, they’re good,” Gal­lagher enthused. ​“A bit like that Bon Iver. Is that his name?”

Har­ry Styles met Nicks at a Fleet­wood Mac con­cert in Los Ange­les in April 2015. Some­thing about him felt authen­tic to the leg­endary front­woman: ground­ed, like she’d known him for­ev­er, blessed with a win­ning moon­shot grin. A month lat­er, they met back­stage at anoth­er Mac gig, this time at the O2 in Lon­don. Styles brought a car­rot cake for Nicks’ birth­day, her name piped in icing on top. By her own admis­sion, Nicks doesn’t even cel­e­brate birth­days, so this was a sur­prise. ​“He was per­son­al­ly respon­si­ble for me actu­al­ly hav­ing to cel­e­brate my birth­day, which was very sweet,” she says.

Styles’ rela­tion­ship with Nicks is hard to define. Induct­ing her into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in New York as a solo artist ear­li­er this year, his speech hymned her as a ​“mag­i­cal gyp­sy god­moth­er who occu­pies the in-between”. She’s called him her ​“lovechild” with Mick Fleet­wood and the ​“son I nev­er had”. Both have moved past the pre­lim­i­nary chat acknowl­edg­ing each other’s unquan­tifi­able tal­ents and smooth­ly accel­er­at­ed towards play­ful cut-and-thrust ban­ter of a witch mom and her naughty child.

They per­form togeth­er – he sings The Chain and Stop Drag­gin’ My Heart Around; she sings the one alleged­ly writ­ten about Tay­lor Swift, Two Ghosts. One of those per­for­mances was at the Guc­ci Cruise after­par­ty in Rome in May, for ​“a lot of mon­ey”, Nicks tells me, in a ​“big kind of cas­tle place”. She has become his de fac­to men­tor – one phone call is all it takes to reach the Queen of Rock’n’Roll for advice on sequenc­ing (“She is real­ly good at track list­ing,” Styles admits) or just to hear each other’s voic­es… because, well, wouldn’t you?

Fol­low­ing anoth­er Fleet­wood Mac con­cert, at London’s Wem­b­ley Sta­di­um, in June, Nicks met Styles for a late (Indi­an) din­ner. He then invit­ed her back to his semi-detached Geor­gian man­sion in north Lon­don for a lis­ten­ing par­ty at mid­night. The album – HS2or what­ev­er it’ll be called – was fin­ished. Nicks, her assis­tant Karen, her make-up artist and her friends Jess and Mary crammed onto Styles’ liv­ing-room couch. They lis­tened to it once through in silence like a ​“bunch of edu­cat­ed monks or some­thing in this dark room”. Then once again, 15 or 16 tracks, this time each of his guests offer­ing live feed­back. It wrapped at 5am, just as the sun was bleed­ing through the curtains.

Even for a pop star of Styles’ stature, press­ing ​“play” on a deeply per­son­al work for your hero to digest, watch­ing her face react in real time to your new music, must be… what?

“It’s a dou­ble-edged thing,” he replies. ​“You’re always ner­vous when you are play­ing peo­ple music for the first time. You’ve heard it so much by this point, you for­get that peo­ple haven’t heard it before. It’s hard to not feel like you’ve done what you’ve set out to do. You are hap­py with some­thing and then some­one who you respect so much and look up to is, like: ​‘I real­ly like this.’ It feels like a large stamp [of approval]. It’s a big step towards feel­ing very com­fort­able with what­ev­er else hap­pens to it.”

Wad­ing through Styles’ back­ground info is exhaust­ing, since he was spanked by fame in the social media era where every god­dam blink of a kohl-rimmed eye has been doc­u­ment­ed from six angles. (And yes, he does some­times wear guyliner.)

Deep breath: born in Red­ditch, Worces­ter­shire, to par­ents Des and Anne, who divorced when he was sev­en. Grew up in Holmes Chapel in Cheshire with his sis­ter Gem­ma, mum and step­dad Robin Twist. Rode hors­es at a near­by sta­ble for free (“I was a bad rid­er, but I was a rid­er”). Stopped rid­ing, ​“got into dif­fer­ent stuff”. Formed a band, White Eski­mo, with school­mates. Aged 16, tried out for the 2010 run of The X Fac­torwith a stir­ring but aver­age ren­di­tion of Ste­vie Wonder’s Isn’t She Love­ly. Cut from the show and put into a boy band with four oth­ers, Louis Tom­lin­son, Liam Payne, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik, and called One Direc­tion. Became inter­na­tion­al­ly famous, toured the globe. Zayn quit to go solo. Toured some more. Dat­ed but maybe didn’t date Car­o­line Flack, Rita Ora and Tay­lor Swift – whom he report­ed­ly dumped in the British Vir­gin Islands. (This rela­tion­ship, if noth­ing else, yield­ed an icon­ic, can­did shot of Swift look­ing deject­ed, being motored back to shore on the back of a boat called the Fly­ing Ray.) One Direc­tion dis­cussed dis­band­ing in 2014, actu­al­ly dis­solved in 2015. They remain friend­ly, and Styles offi­cial­ly went solo in 2016.

It’s been two years since his epony­mous debut and lead sin­gle, Sign of the Times, shocked the world and Elton John with its swag­ger­ing, soft rock sound. ​“It came out of left field and I loved it,” John says.

After 89 are­na-packed shows across five con­ti­nents grossed him, the label, whomev­er, over $61mil­lion, Styles had all but dis­ap­peared. He has emerged only inter­mit­tent­ly for pub­lic-fac­ing events – a Guc­ci after­par­ty per­for­mance here, a Met Gala co-chair­ing there. He relo­cat­ed from Los Ange­les back to Lon­don, sell­ing his Hol­ly­wood Hills house for $6 mil­lion and ship­ping his Jaguar E-type across the Atlantic so he could take joyrides on the M25.

“I’m not over LA,” he insists when I ask about the move. ​“My rela­tion­ship with LA changed a lot. What I want­ed from LA changed.”

A great escape, he would agree, is some­times nec­es­sary. He was in Tokyo for most of Jan­u­ary, hav­ing near­ly fin­ished his album. ​“I need­ed time to get out of that album frame-of-mind of: ​‘Is it fin­ished? Where am I at? What’s hap­pen­ing?’ I real­ly need­ed that time away from every­one. I was kind of just in Tokyo by myself.” His sab­bat­i­cal most­ly involved read­ing Haru­ki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chron­i­cle, singing Nir­vana at karaoke, writ­ing alone in his hotel room, lis­ten­ing to music and eaves­drop­ping on strangers in alien con­ver­sa­tion. ​“It was just a pos­i­tive time for my head and I think that impact­ed the album in a big way.”

Dur­ing this break he watched a lot of films, read a lot of books. Some­times he texts these rec­om­men­da­tions to his pal Michele at Guc­ci. He told Michele to watch the Ali Mac­graw film, Love Sto­ry. ​“We text what friends text about. He is the same [as me] in terms of he lives in his own world and he does his own thing. I love dress­ing up and he loves dress­ing up.”

Because he loves dress­ing up, Michele chose Styles to be the face of three Guc­ci Tai­lor­ing cam­paigns and of its new gen­der­less fra­grance, Mémoire d’une Odeur.

“The moment I met him, I imme­di­ate­ly under­stood there was some­thing strong around him,” Michele tells me. ​“I realised he was much more than a young singer. He was a young man, dressed in a thought­ful way, with uncombed hair and a beau­ti­ful voice. I thought he gath­ered with­in him­self the fem­i­nine and the masculine.”

Fash­ion, for Styles, is a play­ground. Some­thing he doesn’t take too seri­ous­ly. A cou­ple of years ago Har­ry Lam­bert, his styl­ist since 2015, acquired for him a pair of pink metal­lic Saint Lau­rent boots that he has nev­er been pho­tographed wear­ing. They are exceed­ing­ly rare – few pairs exist. Styles wears them ​“to get milk”. They are, in his words, ​“super-fun”. He’s not sure, but he has, ball­park, 50 pairs of shoes, as well as full clos­ets in at least three post­codes. He set­tles on an out­fit fair­ly quick­ly, maybe changes his T-shirt once before head­ing out, but most­ly knows what he likes.

What he may not ful­ly com­pre­hend is that sim­ply by being pho­tographed in a gar­ment he can spur the career of a design­er, as he has with Har­ris Reed, Palo­mo Spain, Charles Jef­frey, Alled-Martínez and a new favourite, Bode. Styles wore a SS16 Guc­ci flo­ral suit to the 2015 Amer­i­can Music Awards. When he was asked who made his suit on the red car­pet, Guc­ci began trend­ing world­wide on Twitter.

“It was one of the first times a male wore Alessandro’s run­way designs and, at the time, men were not tak­ing too many red car­pet risks,” says Lam­bert. ​“Who knows if it influ­enced oth­ers, but it was a spe­cial moment. Plus, it was fun see­ing the fans dress up in suits to come see Harry’s shows.”

Yet tra­di­tion­al gen­der codes of dress still have the minds of mid­dle Amer­i­ca in a choke­hold. Men can’t wear women’s clothes, say the online whingers, who have labelled him ​“trag­ic”, ​“a clown” and a Bowie wannabe. Styles doesn’t care. ​“What’s fem­i­nine and what’s mas­cu­line, what men are wear­ing and what women are wear­ing – it’s like there are no lines any more.”

Elton John agrees: ​“It worked for Marc Bolan, Bowie and Mick. Har­ry has the same qualities.”

Then there is the ques­tion of Styles’ sex­u­al­i­ty, some­thing he has admit­ted­ly ​“nev­er real­ly start­ed to label”, which will plague him until he does. Per­haps it’s part of his allure. He’s bran­dished a pride flag that read ​“Make Amer­i­ca Gay Again” on stage, and plant­ed a stake some­where left of cen­tre on sexuality’s rain­bow spectrum.

“In the posi­tion that he’s in, he can’t real­ly say a lot, but he chose a queer girl band to open for him and I think that speaks vol­umes,” Josette Maskin of the queer band MUNA told The Face ear­li­er this year.

“I get a lot of…” Styles trails off, wheels turn­ing on how he can dis­cuss sex­u­al­i­ty with­out real­ly answer­ing. ​“I’m not always super-out­spo­ken. But I think it’s very clear from choic­es that I make that I feel a cer­tain way about lots of things. I don’t know how to describe it. I guess I’m not…” He paus­es again, piv­ots. ​“I want every­one to feel wel­come at shows and online. They want to be loved and equal, you know? I’m nev­er unsup­port­ed, so it feels weird for me to over­think it for some­one else.”

Sex­u­al­i­ty aside, he must acknowl­edge that he has sex appeal. ​“The word ​‘sexy’ sounds so strange com­ing out of my mouth. So I would say that that’s prob­a­bly why I would not con­sid­er myself sexy.”

Har­ry Styles has emerged ful­ly-formed, an anachro­nis­tic rock star, vague in sen­si­bil­i­ty but des­tined to impress with a dis­arm­ing smile and a warm but firm handshake.

I recite to him a quote from Chrissie Hyn­de of The Pre­tenders about her time atop rock’s throne: ​“I nev­er got into this for the mon­ey or because I want­ed to join in the super­star sex around the swim­ming pools. I did it because the offer of a record con­tract came along and it seemed like it might be more fun than being a wait­ress. Now, I’m not so sure.”

Styles – who worked in a bak­ery in a small north­ern town some time before play­ing to 40,000scream­ing fans in South Amer­i­can are­nas – must have wit­nessed some shit, been invit­ed to a few pool­side sex par­ties, in his time.

“I’ve seen a cou­ple of things,” he nods in agree­ment. ​“But I’m still young. I feel like there’s still stuff to see.”

Summer Break. (Tate Langdon x Reader.)

hi friends! sorry i’ve been so absent lately, school and life are kind of kicking my ass right now, but im trying to get back into the schedule of writing - i miss it a lot. i hope you guys enjoy this, you can expect to see me much more often now :^)

Thank you for the request @sydddboiiii

Prompt: “I’m going to show you exactly who you belong to.”

Word Count: 2,745

Warnings: not much, reunion sex, slightly rough, slight choking kink

It was summer break going into your Junior year of college You'd moved out of California to go to Arizona State University; it was close enough you could drive home, but still far enough that your mom and dad wouldn't be knocking on your door whenever they wanted to. And you absolutely loved college. You were having a wonderful experience and had met so many amazing people you now called your best friends. But coming home for the summer just sounded like fun this year. So here you sat, looking through your old high school year books, chuckling to yourself at all of the little notes from old friends and acquaintances. 

"Love you forever bitch!! xoxo"

"Don't ever forget the time you threw up in my moms backyard - future (Y/N), does the smell of fireball still make you sick?"

"See ya in twenty years at the reunion."

Flipping the page, one was taken up entirely by a black felt tip pen and shaky handwriting you immediately recognized. Tate Langdon. You two had dated for two and a half out of your four years of high school, you were sure you wanted to be with him forever. But then you made the decision to move to Arizona, and Tate wanted to stay in California for awhile. So you two broke things off after graduation, and you hadn't heard from him or seen him since then. He did cross your mind from time to time, wondering if he was working, or had gotten into another relationship.

Maybe you'd try to get in touch with him while you were home - the idea made your heart flutter in your chest though. You hoped he didn't cut his hair. It always looked best long. You took a deep breath - you knew Tate followed you on Instagram and had probably seen you post photos of a guy you had briefly dated at the beginning of this semester. It'd been years since your relationship with Tate, but he'd always been the jealous type.

You closed the yearbook and put it back on your bookshelf, taking up the final spot at the end of the others. The day had gone on as normal, other than the fact you couldn't get Tate out of your mind. Reliving those memories from high school made your heart race.

The time he was throwing rocks at your window, and the time you two snuck out together to get high by the beach.

You'd stolen the keys to your moms car and somehow managed to get out of the house without her noticing. You picked Tate up, he was wearing black jeans and a blue and black flannel with his old beat up Doc Martens. You two sat at the shore, wrapped in a blanket, passing what felt like an endless amount of joints until the sun started to rise. You talked about his father, and about all of your insecurities. He said he'd adore you even with your stretch marks and slightly uneven eyebrows.

Tate was romantic. He was in touch with his emotions, and it was such a rarity among most men. Every other (not that there were that many) guy you had been involved with was chivalrous and kind at the start, but quickly lost that motivation when you agreed to have sex.

Tate was never like that.

He opened every door for you, let you wear his flannel if you were cold, and always let you have some of his food even when you said you weren't hungry. About seven months in, you two lost your virginity together. You expected it to be awkward and unenjoyable; everyone said your first time always is. But to you, it didn't feel real. It felt like something out of some cheesy teen movie, but it was amazing. He was so loving and gentle. You'd never forget the way he kissed your neck and told you he loved you for the first time. 

The sun was setting now and you couldn't imagine going any more time without trying to see Tate. You looked at yourself in the mirror, wearing a black cropped tank top and denim mini skirt, you touched up your hair and grabbed your car keys. Hopefully he still lived in the same house. You got in the car and rolled all the windows down, letting the warm air blow through your hair - you had this drive memorized and could probably do it with your eyes closed if you had to. 

Everything looked the same.

The large houses were all still intact and beautiful as ever, front yards lined with rose bushes, the sound of kids playing in the street was clear. You remembered watching Tate and Addie jumping on the trampoline they used to have in their backyard. It damn near gave Constance a heart attack every time they used it, but she couldn't manage to tell them no, especially when she saw all of her little ones playing together.

Beau's laugh was infectious, and Tate's love for them was so heartwarming. You pulled up to the house, looking at the large brick structure. You could see Tate's old bedroom window. It used to be covered from the inside with a big Sound Garden poster, making it as dark as he liked it. With a shaky breath you pulled the key from the ignition and made your way up to the front door, shoes clicking quietly on the cobblestone walkway.You knocked on the door, four times. You stood, feeling your knees shaking beneath you, the heat from the sun warming your back. You felt your heart jump when you heard the door open, looking up to see none other than your high school sweetheart. You meant to say something like "Hello," but your jaw hung open, the sun illuminating his golden locks, long and shaggy as ever. 

"Hi Tate." You smiled up at him, his face was hard to read. 

"(Y/N)..." He started, looking you up and down slowly before looking back up into your eyes. "I thought you moved to Arizona."

"I did, but I'm home for summer. No way in hell was I going to stay there for 130 degrees." His smile made you smile in response.

"Come in." He reached his hand out and you took it, shuddering when he instinctively brushed his thumb over yours.

"So hows college going?" He asked, you two sat at his kitchen table, he made you a cup of coffee, putting it over ice like he knew you liked."I mean, pretty bullshit honestly," You chuckled, "But necessary. I'm almost done now, might as well suck it up and keep going."

You two made small talk, everything feeling so easy and laid back. You two picked up right where you'd left off, you felt like old friends - sort of. An old friend you were wildly attracted to. He hadn't changed much, except he was wearing gray sweatpants and a black tank top. He never wore anything but long sleeves when you two were younger, but his arms looked strong and his shoulders were broad so he could pull it off pretty damn well now.

"So hows that guy you're with?" He looked up through his blond curls and you almost choked on your drink at his boldness. You couldn't be too surprised honestly.

"Oh," You shrugged, desperately trying to make it clear that you were over him. "We sort of had a thing for a couple months. It never really went anywhere, and he wasn't exactly my type." You flashed a playful smile, and you saw that devilish smirk of Tate's crawl over his lips.

"And what is your type, exactly?" He said, leaning back, giving you a clear look at his torso, legs spread, only aiding in your mind wandering further than you cared to admit.

"I don't know, I like tall blondes." You teased, heart racing nervously for how confident you were acting. "Maybe had an emo phase in high school."He raised an eyebrow, still looking as devious as ever.

"Sounds like someone I know." He leaned forward, taking your hand in his. "So what I'm hearing is that you're completely single?" He questioned, making you stand up with him, his chest close to yours.

"I couldn't be more single if I tried." You giggled, feeling your face get hot when you feel his hands slip around your waist.

"I miss you, (Y/N)." His voice was quiet, lips ghosting over yours, immediately sending shivers down your spine.

"I miss you too, Tate." Your knees felt weak, "More than I even know how to explain." 

With those words Tate finally pressed his lips against your own, large hands firmly holding your hips - he still made you feel safe. Within minutes the kiss had deepened into something fiery and passionate. Your hands were tangled in his hair, you two had made your way up the stairs, a trail of your clothing leading to his bedroom door, which he now had you pressed up against in nothing but your black panties. His lips worked furiously against yours, your hands were pinned on either side of your head. His lips moved to kiss down your neck, stopping where your shoulder connected, biting at it teasingly.

"Tate...I need you, please..." You whimpered, hands searching for something to grasp. You felt him smirk against your skin, lips moving back up your neck to your ear.

"I'm going to show you exactly who you belong to." He breathed against your ear, your knees immediately felt weak beneath him. He pulled back, and you were met with a familiar expression. His eyes were dark and he looked so possessive and dominant. He exuded power and control and something about him controlling you once again only aided the desperate wetness forming between your thighs. He finally released your wrists and they immediately tried to touch him, whimpering when he stepped out of your arms reach.

"You know better than to touch me without permission, angel." He said quietly, raising an eyebrow at you.Angel.That was his favorite pet name for you. He always said it fit you perfectly - that you were radiant and truly made him want to live life happy.

"Please, I need you. You're all I've been thinking about," You begged, clenching your thighs together, "please Sir." If he wanted to pull nicknames out of the past then you could too. 

His cheeks were dusted red when you brought out the name, but it only excited him more.

"Go lay on the bed." He demanded, pulling you by your wrist over to his bed covered in a black duvet.

"Don't even think about touching me yet." He pushed you so you were flat on your back, his hands on the inside of your knees to spread your legs. His lips peppered your inner thighs with kisses, moving closer and closer to your core. You writhed under his hands that were wrapped around your thighs. You needed him more than you even knew how to explain. Finally, you let out a relaxed gasp when he kissed through your panties, almost immediately having your back arched.

”My angel needs me, hm?" He whispered teasingly, one finger moving the thin fabric to the side, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit, making you moan loudly.

"More...." You gasped breathlessly, "P-please..."

Your eyes were closed but you could almost feel his satisfied glare burning into your skin. He leaned in, gently swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. His finger tips dug into your skin, your hands grasping at the thick duvet cover. He smirked against your hot skin before he buried his face between your thighs. He made shapes on your clit with his tongue, alternating between fast and slow. His right hand snaked over your thigh, his middle finger pressed against the wetness around your entrance before ever so slowly pushing it in, not stopping until he absolutely had to.

"Good girl," He praised quietly, adding in his ring finger. "So wet for me." He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace - your hands were desperate to tangle in his hair, but you wanted to follow his orders.

You loved being obedient for him.He leaned up from his spot between your thighs, lips glistening. He kept up the pace with his fingers though.

“Tell me princess, did you miss me all these years?" His voice was low and gravelly.

"Y-oh!" Suddenly he hit something inside you that made your legs shake.

"Yes sir, I missed you so much!" Your back was arched against the sheets and you. He knew what you liked, so he kept going, hitting that same spot over and over again.

"I-I'm gonna' cum, please can I?" You begged, feeling that coil tighten in your tummy that you haven't felt in so long.

"I think you deserve it, angel. Cum for me, all over my fingers like you used to."

His words sent you over the edge, damn near screaming as the coil snapped, your body was trembling beneath his touch, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy. He helped you ride your orgasm out until the very end, only quickening his pace as you screamed for him, blond curls stuck to his forehead as he watched your body shake. Ever so slowly, he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the empty feeling.

It wouldn't last long though. You watched as he slipped out of his boxers, tossing them to the side. You looked him up and down, although your vision was fuzzy from the earth-shattering orgasm he just gave you, seeing Tate like this made your heart race. He looked perfect, defined muscles, beautiful dark brown eyes - he really was as close to perfect as one could get. He leaned over you, pushing your legs up so they were over his shoulders, pressing against your chest. His nose was close to yours.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered, lining his hard cock up with your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you, your body tensing at the familiar feeling. You both moaned in unison, your hands holding onto Tate's arms. Taking his time to do so, Tate began quickening his pace, thrusting into you, making you only want him harder and faster.

"I know you can fuck me harder than this." You teased, cocking an eyebrow at him. With your words, urging Tate to do what you said.

"I wasn't sure you'd be able to handle me anymore." He retorted - cocky as per usual. But he quickened his pace, hips snapping against yours roughly. His hand that previously rested next to your head moved to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides the way he knew you loved. 

"Fuck-" You gasped when his hand met your throat.

"Is this hard enough for you, princess?" He taunted, smacking your cheek lightly just to play with you.

"Yes sir..." You whimpered, looking up into his eyes. He was getting close and you could tell. He was breathing heavy and as dominant as he wanted to sound, his voice was shaking. His pace was fast, slamming deeply into you.

"I-I'm gonna cum again Tate!" You squealed, earning a tighter grip around  your throat. He smirked, somehow going even faster than before.

"Greedy little girl," He hissed, "You want to cum again?"

You nodded desperately in response, knees beginning to tremble beneath him, your whole body starting to feel hot.

"Cum for m-oh fuck!" He hissed, suddenly overtaken with his own orgasm, covering your inner walls with his hot cum. At the same time, you felt your body convulsing under him, walls clenching around his length, only aiding in each of your orgasms. He collapsed on top of you, slowly pulling himself from inside you. Gently, he pressed a few kisses into your neck.

"Tate.." You whispered, fingers playing slowly with his curls. "I missed you so much." You kissed the side of his head, feeling him smile against your skin.

"I missed you too, (Y/N), I don't even know where to begin..." His voice was gravelly and quiet. 

"Maybe Arizona isn't the place for me." You said quietly, not really meaning to say it aloud. He looked up at you, cheeks dusted pink.

"Or maybe Arizona is the place for me." He grinned, pressing his lips into yours firmly. You couldn't imagine going any more years without him.

For the week of 21 October 2019

Quick Bits:

Action Comics #1016 continues brilliantly integrating Naomi into the broader DC Universe as she helps Superman with the Red Cloud and introduces Batman to her mom. Some very nice double-page spreads in this one from Szymon Kudranski and Brad Anderson, with a nice structure from Brian Michael Bendis in the form of a investigative journalist format.

| Published by DC Comics

The Amazing Mary Jane #1 is an interesting debut from Leah Williams, Carlos Gomez, Carlos Lopez, and Joe Caramagna. It plays upon MJ’s resumed career as an actress and a different turn for Mysterio (I need to go back and read some of his stuff with Kindred, because something seems off).

| Published by Marvel

Amazing Spider-Man #32 begins the next stage in Marvel’s seeming neverending onslaught of event after event with the prelude into the upcoming 2099 thing, including the Marvel debut of Patrick Gleason providing line art. The thing that gets you is that it’s good. Nick Spencer, Gleason, Matthew Wilson, and Joe Caramagna give us an interesting hook in a future and a present that have apparently gone wrong, but we’re really unsure what’s happened yet, just that a seemingly powerless Miguel, back in his original costume, needs to find Peter. It’s compelling.

| Published by Marvel

Amazing Spider-Man: Full Circle #1 is a rather fun and funny story that you really have to go into blind in terms of most content. It’s better to be surprised by the experience. It’s an all-star team of talent including Jonathan Hickman, Chris Bachalo, Gerry Duggan, Greg Smallwood, Nick Spencer, Mike Allred, Kelly Thompson, Valerio Schiti, Al Ewing, Chris Sprouse, Chip Zdarsky, Rachael Stott, Jason Aaron, Cameron Stewart, Mark Bagley, Tim Townsend, Al Vey, Karl Story, John Dell, Laura Allred, Mattia Iacono, Dave McCaig, Tríona Farrell, Nathan Fairbairn, Frank D’Armata, and Joe Caramagna playing a game of exquisite corpse, with each team coming up with a more outlandish cliffhanger for the next team to extricate Spider-Man from. It’s hilarious and incredibly well done.

| Published by Marvel

Angel #6 gives us another perspective on the “Hellmouth” crossover event, as a dejected Spike is tracked down by Fred and Gunn. I really like how Bryan Edward Hill, Gleb Melnikov, Roman Titov, and Ed Dukeshire are continuing the ongoing narrative of the series, while still dovetailing seamlessly into the event. It doesn’t miss a beat on either side of the equation, while still presenting an entertaining story in its own right regardless of whether you’ve read anything previously. All while introducing another player that’s already causing complications. Very nice layered storytelling here.

| Published by BOOM! Studios

Aquaman Annual #2 seems to have been oddly scheduled, with a story taking place after the still ongoing “Amnesty” arc in the main series, but Kelly Sue DeConnick, Vita Ayala, Victor Ibáñez, Jay David Ramos, and Clayton Cowles still deliver an entertaining story that plays into the DOOM that’s been spread by the Legion of Doom and Perpetua. There’s an undercurrent of animosity, anger, and paranoia that seems to be fostered by the doom mark hanging in the sky, and this story nicely builds on it.

| Published by DC Comics

Ascender #6 begins the next arc, though it is much more a direct continuation from the story unfolding, with Andy captured and Mila on the run by boat. Jeff Lemire continues to inject humour into this story through the sheer ineptitude from the vampires. It’s a wonder that they can control anything.

| Published by Image

Avengers #25 is the finale to “Challenge of the Ghost Riders” from Jason Aaron, Stefano Caselli, Jason Keith, Erick Arciniega, and Cory Petit. It does a good job of building Robbie back up, while showing more of the cracks that we’re seeing in Johnny Blaze that were shored up in Ghost Rider. 

| Published by Marvel

Bad Reception #3 goes hard into more traditional themes around horror and, more specifically, slasher films and it’s absolutely wonderful. Juan Doe is giving us a very compelling mystery here, adding more layers as to why the killer is doing this and adding complications through the different characters. Great stuff.

| Published by AfterShock

Batgirl #40 escalates Oracle’s plans as she launches an offensive on Burnside in order to draw out Batgirl. The art this issue from Carmine Di Giandomenico and Jordie Bellaire gets taken to a completely new level. They layouts and colours are absolutely beautiful.

| Published by DC Comics

Batman/Superman #3 goes deeper into the Batman Who Laughs’ machinations for the Infected and what he’s trying to unleash on the DC Universe. Joshua Williamson, David Marquez, Alejandro Sanchez, and John J. Hill are very nicely executing this story, playing with the darker elements that have been bubbling since Metal, but presenting it in such a way that it’s not a dour, grim and gritty story. Also, though it doesn’t have the branding, this is still absolutely integral to the overall “Year of the Villain” event.

| Published by DC Comics

Black Adam: Year of the Villain #1 aims the infected Shazam at Khandaq at lets explosions ensue from Paul Jenkins, Inaki Miranda, Hi-Fi, and Tom Napolitano. This gives us an interesting look at leadership, humility, and responsibility, seemingly entrenching Black Adam again as a somewhat heroic figure.

| Published by DC Comics

Bloodborne #16 concludes “The Veil, Torn Asunder”, revelling in some of the madness that really grips the world. There’s a real unnerving sense of reality crumbling here, somewhat more horrific than what we’ve seen before. Great art from Piotr Kowalski and Brad Simpson.

| Published by Titan

Contagion #4 gets darker in this penultimate chapter from Ed Brisson, Damian Couceiro, Veronica Gandini, and Cory Petit. Things get even more grim as more and more of the heroes fall and we’re left with a rag tag band of street-level heroes and the z-list ring of magicians.

| Published by Marvel

Count Crowley: Reluctant Monster Hunter #1 is an entertaining debut from David Dastmalchian, Lukas Ketner, Lauren Affe, and Frank Cvetkovic. It revels beautifully in the low budget local network horror programming of the ‘70s and ‘80s, following an alcoholic reporter who gets fired for her behaviour, before taking the job as the host to a b-movie segment like Elvira. Great stuff here.

| Published by Dark Horse

Criminal #9 distances us a bit from Jane and that story in this chapter of “Cruel Summer”, instead giving us a look at what Leo is up to as his father plans a heist and Ricky’s recklessness. It’s a nice side track, giving us a different perspective again along with a seriously messed up robbery. Love the washes for the flashbacks from Jacob Phillips.

| Published by Image

Detective Comics #1014 brings Nora Fries back. And aside from just the extreme lengths that Victor has gone to in order to accomplish it, something about all of this feels very, very wrong and that some new horror is about to be unleashed on Gotham. Beautiful artwork from Doug Mahnke, Christian Alamy, Mark Irwin, and David Baron.

| Published by DC Comics

Dial H for HERO #8 gives us the origin stories for The Operator and Mister Thunderbolt from Sam Humphries, Paulina Ganucheau, Joe Quinones, Jordan Gibson, and Dave Sharpe. There’s a rather neat format for the storytelling here as we get parallel stories of The Operator and Mister Thunderbolt, told forwards for one and then backwards for the other.

| Published by DC Comics / Wonder Comics

Doctor Mirage #3 has some gorgeous and trippy art from Nick Robles and Jordie Bellaire. The oddity in the colours and the impressive layouts and double page spreads really adds to the overall feel and atmosphere of the story, immersing you into the surrealism and unsettling feel that even Doctor Mirage herself is feeling.

| Published by Valiant

The Flash #81 concludes “Death and the Speed Force” from Joshua Williamson, Scott Kolins, Luis Guerrero, and Steve Wands. There are some major ramifications here for the DC Universe as a whole and some interesting developments for Hunter Zolomon himself. Like last issue, it’s pretty fitting that this is being handled with Kolins’ art. Also, we see a bit of what might be happening because DOOM won.

| Published by DC Comics

Ghost Spider #3 keeps things interesting as we get a continued build for two different Miles Warren stories on both Earths-65 and -615, from Seanan McGuire, Takeshi Miyazawa, Rosi Kämpe, Ian Herring, and Clayton Cowles. There’s also a feeling that through school and superheroics across two realities, Gwen might be wearing herself out more than she already has been with a hungry costume, which is a compelling fact that might feed into to forthcoming stories.

| Published by Marvel

GI Joe #2 takes a bit of a step back from the explosions of the first issue, still following Tiger, but in a much more introspective and measured way as he keeps getting his ass handed to him by Scarlett. Paul Allor, Chris Evenhuis, Brittany Peer, and Neil Uyetake are giving this a very different feel from any previous GI Joe incarnation and it’s very interesting. Some neat twists and some very welcome humour.

| Published by IDW

Hellboy and the BPRD: Saturn Returns #3 concludes this excellent mini-series from Mike Mignola, Scott Allie, Christopher Mitten, Brennan Wagner, and Clem Robins. I quite like this new approach to the historical series, giving a broader view of the previous years. Also, the development of Liz and Hellboy is wonderful, just great character building.

| Published by Dark Horse

Immortal Hulk #25 is very strange. Very, very strange. The lead story is set in the future where the Hulk has become the Breaker of Worlds and everything is slated for destruction. A pair of former lovers are trying to stop him. From Al Ewing, Germán García, Chris O’Halloran, and Cory Petit. There’s a lot of your usual dystopian future stuff, plus sending something back to save the future, but there’s more to this. The set up plays into some of the Kabbalistic themes and ideas that Al Ewing has been using through this series and we get an interesting interpretation of Binah and Chokhmah here. Though it might be more appropriate to consider them as their Qliphoth. Granted, you don’t need to get into any of this to enjoy the comic. Especially since it will appear much more straightforward in the present as the usual team of Ewing, Joe Bennett, Ruy José, Paul Mounts, and Petit reintroduce a familiar evil face.

| Published by Marvel

Josie and the Pussycats in Space #1 is a digital original from Alex de Campi, Devaki Neogi, Lee Loughridge, and Jack Morelli. It’s a pretty damn good reimagining of the characters, putting them on an intergalactic USO tour, and then eventually cranking up the weird and the horror.

| Published by Archie Comics

Justice League Dark #16 is incredible. “The Witching War” continues in this story from James Tynion IV, Alvaro Martínez Bueno, Fernando Blanco, Raul Fernandez, Brad Anderson, and Rob Leigh as Wonder Woman confronts Circe and everything gets doomed. The stakes here feel real, especially as the team continues to fall apart.

| Published by DC Comics

King Thor #2 is as epic as the first issue with Jason Aaron, Esad Ribić, Ive Svorcina, and Joe Sabino seriously bringing the thunder here. The artwork is drop dead gorgeous and the magnitude of the confrontation between Thor, Loki, and Gorr is massive.

| Published by Marvel

Marauders #1 gives us our first look at an X-book in “Dawn of X” without Jonathan Hickman at the helm. It’s really good. Gerry Duggan, Matteo Lolli, Federico Blee, and Cory Petit give us a somewhat more lighthearted approach to some of the concepts, featuring a Kate Pryde who for some reason can’t go through the Krakoan gates, so is recruited by Emma to helm a vessel for the Hellfire Trading Company. It then sets up the more serious element of rescuing mutants who wish to accept Xavier’s offer, but are stuck in hostile regimes. Very nice humour here.

| Published by Marvel

Martian Manhunter #9 rounds the corner for the homestretch, with Steve Orlando, Riley Rossmo, Ivan Plascencia, and Deron Bennett plumbing the depths of one of Charnn’s victims and discovering a bit of a plan for what’s to come. The artwork from Rossmo and Plascencia remains some of the most inventive currently on the stands.

| Published by DC Comics

Middlewest #12 puts together the pieces of where Abel and Bobby have been taken and gives us an introductory glance at the horrible place that they’re being forced to work. Skottie Young, Jorge Corona, Jean-Francois Beaulieu, and Nate Piekos continue to work magic on this story.

| Published by Image

Money Shot #1 is definitely unique. Tim Seeley, Sarah Beattie, Rebekah Isaacs, Kurt Michael Russell, and Crank! give us a story of a group of scientists who turn to making alien porn in order to fund their science projects. There’s humour and a lot of oddity here. Also, alien sex.

| Published by Vault

Punisher Kill Krew #4 sees the Black Knight enlisted to the team as they continue to navigate the Ten Realms to get vengeance for the orphaned war children. The art from Juan Ferreyra is absolutely gorgeous.

| Published by Marvel

Resonant #4 dives into the two new regions of Honcho’s island and the Congregation. It’s interesting to see how other areas are dealing with the waves, even in horrifying ways. The art from Alejandro Aragon and Jason Wordie is incredible.

| Published by Vault

Second Coming #4 sees Sunstar enlist help to find Jesus, while Jesus laments Christians with his new friend Larry in jail, from Mark Russell, Richard Pace, Leonard Kirk, Andy Troy, and Rob Steen. Some very interesting ideas presented here about how a religion can get away from apparent foundational messages. This issue is rounded out by the usual text pieces and short stories.

| Published by Ahoy

Sera and the Royal Stars #4 has us still in the underworld, from Jon Tsuei, Audrey Mok, Raul Angulo, and Jim Campbell. It’s very interesting to see the zodiacals interacting with variations on various deities. Also, Mok and Angulo remind us that they’re an incredible art team. The visual shifts throughout this issue are beautiful.

| Published by Vault

Star Wars Adventures: Return to Vader’s Castle #4 gives us a central tale featuring Jabba the Hutt’s extended family and a bunch of disembodied brains, as illustrated by Nicoletta Baldari. We’re also getting to the end of the framing tale from Cavan Scott, Francesco Francavilla, and AndWorld Design and this issue gives us an interesting cliffhanger to take us home.

| Published by IDW

Strikeforce #2 maintains the high level of storytelling from the first issue, continuing to keep us on our toes about this oddball group, and deepens the threat of the Vridai as the team heads to Satana in Vegas. Tini Howard, Germán Peralta, Miroslav Mrva, and Joe Sabino have hit on a winning combination here and it just keeps getting better.

| Published by Marvel

Unbound #1 is kind of a cyberpunk/fantasy series with this first issue focusing on Lukas, a famous hunter who takes on a helper for his current hunt, from Ralph Tedesco, Oliver Borges, Leonardo Paciarotti, and Carlos M. Mangual. There’s some nice world-building here, but the real hook comes later in the story that’s really compelling. I won’t spoil it, but it definitely takes it above what you’d expect.

| Published by Zenescope

Valkyrie #4 unveils a lot more of the context of what happened in the first three issues in a rather interesting way, while bringing back a trio of really old Dr. Strange villains. One of whom will be familiar to moviegoers. Al Ewing, Jason Aaron, CAFU, Jesus Aburtov, and Joe Sabino are telling a very interesting story here with some great twists and gorgeous art.

| Published by Marvel

Wonder Woman #81 concludes “Loveless” and with it G. Willow Wilson’s run on the title, here with Tom Derenick, Trevor Scott, Scott Hanna, Romulo Fajardo Jr., and Pat Brosseau. It’s not bad, progressing with a few changes and setting up Steve Orlando’s incoming arc.

| Published by DC Comics

You Are Obsolete #2 gets creepier, playing up even more of the Midwich Cuckoos vibes and revealing that the kids are actively spying on people, with the implication that they’d use more salacious details to their benefit as potential blackmail. We’re still not entirely sure why anything is going on, but the series is definitely setting up a creepy atmosphere.

| Published by AfterShock

Other Highlights: Absolute Carnage: Lethal Protectors #3, Agents of Atlas #3, Archie vs. Predator 2 #3, Black Canary: Ignite, Books of Magic #13, Fearless #4, Freedom Fighters #10, Future Fight Firsts: Luna Snow #1, Immortal Hulk: Director’s Cut #6, Journey to Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker - Allegiance #3, Kaijumax - Season 5 #1, Lumberjanes #67, Marvel Action: Spider-Man #10, Rat Queens #19, Red Sonja & Vampirella meet Betty & Veronica #6, RWBY #5, Sharkey: The Bounty Hunter #6, Spider-Man: Velocity #3, Star Wars #73, Tony Stark: Iron Man #17

Recommended Collections: Amazing Spider-Man - Volume 5: Behind Scenes, American Carnage, Ascender - Volume 1, Evolution - Volume 3, GI Joe: A Real American Hero - Volume 23, Harrow County: Library Edition - Volume 4, Hex Wives, Infinity 8 - Volume 5: Apocalypse Day, Invisible Kingdom - Volume 1, The Long Con - Volume 2, Naomi: Season One, Spider-Man: Life Story, Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge, Teen Titans - Volume 2: Turn It Up, Wonder Woman - Volume 1: The Just War

d. emerson eddy is not a pineapple.

The Space Between Your Fingers 15

Mark Tuan x OC Genre: Fluff, angst, slice of life Words: 3.7k [Masterlist] [Series Masterlist] - [RECAP] “Noona,” Yugyeom said, interrupting her as he continued to gaze at the ceiling. “You’re not a burden. You never were and please stop calling them my friends. They’re yours too now. And they love you. We all love you, and it’s because we love you that we’ll always be worried about you.” Ahnmi smiled, turning on her side towards him, though her eyes were now closed with fatigue. “Yugy,” she muttered. “You’re my favorite dongseng.” He chuckled, pulling the covers over her. “Don’t say that in front of Bambam. You’ll make him cry again.” - Ch. 15: Play Pretend When she woke up, Ahnmi felt like her stomach was sinking into the bed. How was she going to face everyone? And what if they asked her about her arms? Or worse, what if they shunned her? She was an outcast now, wasn’t she? A ghost. And ghosts are supposed to disappear, or at the very least, live quietly and alone. Ahnmi laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as she contemplated lying in bed forever. The truth was though, if she wanted to, everyone would let her do it. In fact, now that she thought about it, she might get sent away before she could even face the school.

But this incident wasn’t too bad. Maybe her aunt and uncle would let it slide. A light knock on the door pulled Ahnmi out of her thoughts. Mrs. Kim entered with a tray carrying hot porridge. “Ahnmi, how are you feeling?” she spoke softly as she rested the tray on the younger girl’s lap. Mrs. Kim rested her palm over Ahnmi’s forehead with a worried look. “You look paler than usual.” Ahnmi smiled sheepishly, shaking her head. “I’m fine, thanks for the food.” “Make sure to eat all of it, Mark says he’ll come check on you later today.” Mrs. Kim tapped her chin pensively. “You sure you don’t want me to stay home with you?” “I’m really fine. I could go to school even!” Her aunt chuckled, before smoothing over the blanket. “Make sure you finish the whole bowl, okay? There’s more on the stove if you’re still hungry.” Ahnmi nodded her head as she watched her aunt leave for work. With a sigh of relief at the sound of the front door closing, Ahnmi lifted the tray off her lap and left for the bathroom. She was glad her aunt didn’t bring up the incident or her parents. She hoped that was a sign that they weren’t going to involve her mom and dad. Or perhaps, her parents heard about what happened and let it slide anyways. After all, two transfers in a year was too much to handle, even they would have to agree on that. After washing up, Ahnmi slipped into a loose dress and a soft peach cardigan. She smiled as she put on makeup, watching her face transform from its tired countenance to a glowing hue. Puckering her lips, she spread a light coral color until it was a soft gradient. She wanted to make sure that she looked normal, as if yesterday had never even happened. As long as she looked fine, they couldn’t send her away, right? As she walked out of the bathroom, Ahnmi was met with a pensive looking Mark standing outside her bedroom door. She smiled as she watched him raise his hand to knock on the door. He hadn’t noticed her yet. But instead of knocking on her door, his hand quietly settled back to his side, his forehead finding contact against the door frame. His shoulders lifted and then sunk in a deep exhale. Ahnmi’s smile dropped. Even if she looked like normal, things weren’t normal were they? She wondered if she was being selfish for wanting to stay here. She was the reason for Mark’s slumped shoulders. Even if he insisted she stay, it would only be because Mark’s a nice guy. Biting at her bottom lip, Ahnmi put those thoughts aside before speaking up. “Mark.” Mark jumped in surprise at the sound of her voice behind him. “Oh, you scared me!” he exclaimed before laughing. “Were you behind me this whole time?” She smiled sheepishly. Mark chuckled again, walking over to her side. He was glad to see a smile on her face again, even if it was just a small one. He wanted to pull her into a hug again, wanted to squeeze her in his arms forever, but instead he fingered at her bangs, pretending to fix the strands across her forehead. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked softly as he continued playing with her hair. Ahnmi glanced away, her face feeling hot from the gesture. “N-no, I just felt like getting dressed.” “You wanted to get dressed up for me, right?” he teased, making the girl blush. “I-I just wanted to look nice!” she defended herself. He chuckled at her flustered expression before taking her arm gently and walking her back into bed. “I think you look very pretty today,” he said softly as he looked away to tuck her back into bed. Ahnmi turned pink from the sudden compliment. She wondered if he was just saying it because he felt bad for her. Mark looked back at her with a smile as he took a seat on the other side of the bed. “I know you like your hoodies but this fitted look is nice too. You’re very pretty today.” Ahnmi felt a smile tugging at her lips as he continued to pepper her with compliments. “Shouldn’t you be heading to school now?” she asked, changing the subject. Mark pouted, taking the bowl of porridge off the nightstand and into his lap. “I was going to but since you dressed so pretty, it would be a waste if I didn’t spend the day with you.” Ahnmi smiled at his teasing, though she had to admit, she was glad that Mark wasn’t acting awkward around her. She had a feeling he was being extra playful to cover up his true feelings, but if that was the case, they would play pretend together. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to waste your day then,” she conceded. “What would you like to do?” Mark grinned, raising the spoon to her face. “I want to feed you breakfast.” Ahnmi let out a breath, her eyes trailing down Mark’s fingers to the silver spoon before slowly opening her mouth. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate everyone’s kindness. She just wished things could go back to before when everyone was less worried and didn’t coddle her. Now even Mark was treating her like a child. “We can do whatever you want once you finish breakfast,” Mark added, seeing the growing pout on her lips. “Did you have breakfast yet?” Mark chuckled, nodding his head. “No need to worry about me, kiddo.” “I’m not a kiddo,” she whined, taking another spoonful of porridge. “Can we go to the beach again?” Mark bit at his lip, trying to hold in his laugh. He knew he shouldn’t because the doctor said she should rest but how could he say no when she was being so cute? “We can’t stay too long though. I promised Yugyeom’s mom I’d make sure you were resting.” Ahnmi’s eyes brightened, taking a big bite of porridge. “Deal!” - Mark smiled as he watched Ahnmi’s eyes glow with excitement as she dipped her toes in the water, her shoes hanging on the crook of her fingers. “Come Mark! The water feels so refreshing!” she squealed just as a wave crashed to the shore, bubbling at her ankles. “Isn’t the water cold?” he looked at her skeptically. “You’ll catch a cold like that.” Ahnmi smiled softly, slowly trudging back to the dry sand. Mark chuckled, ruffling her hair before placing his jacket over her shoulders. She came here to have fun, to escape the worries simmering at the back of her mind, but all Mark seemed to do was caution her about everything she did. “Are you feeling okay?” Mark asked again as they sat together on the sand. “I’m fine, Oppa, you can stop worrying about me,” she sighed, gaze trained on the waves. Mark’s eyes remained on Ahnmi’s profile until her image was just a blur behind the hot tears that threatened to fall. He bit at his lip, trying to hold himself together before he finally looked away, covering his face as tears fell down his cheeks. “I—Mark?” “You’re really mean, Ahnmi,” Mark finally croaked up, wiping the tears from his face to show her the frown sitting on his lips. “How could you say that?” “I-I’m sorry,” she replied back meekly, her body freezing at the sight of his expression. She had never seen Mark look so upset before. “No, I’m sorry,” he muttered, taking in a shaky breath. “I was trying to act like I’m fine but you really scared me, Mi! How am I supposed to not worry when I saw you like that on the bathroom floor? How am I not supposed to worry when you didn’t even say a thing about the threats you were getting?” “Mar—” “Really,” Mark interrupted. “How can I not worry when I care about you so much? I was so scared when I found you.” Ahnmi felt her own lips trembling as she watched Mark hide his face in the crook of his arms. “Oppa,” she whispered, hand inching over his arm hesitantly.  He sniffed, breaking out into an embarrassed laugh as he looked at her. “I’m sorry, Mi, we were supposed to be cheering you up.” Her fingers grazed softly against his cheek, gently wiping away his tears. “No, Oppa, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have waited until it got to this point. I just…I don’t know, I guess it sounds dumb now. I just thought it might go away if I ignored it long enough.” Mark smiled, taking her hand away from his face and into his own hand. He played with her fingers softly before letting out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, that does sound dumb.” Ahnmi looked away, looking down as she dug her toes into the soft sand. Her palm was warm inside his and she could feel the warmth spreading to her cheeks. It was quiet on the beach, with just the wind and the waves to break their quiet. “Next time, I’ll tell you first,” Ahnmi finally spoke up. “I’ll try my best so that a next time will never happen.” Ahnmi shook her head, chuckling softly. And Mark wondered to himself if she was doubting his abilities or if she just believed bad things would always follow her. Finally, he was beginning to understand why Ahnmi was so self-conscious, always doubting her worth when to him, she meant the world. He always wondered why she couldn’t see how much she meant to him and everyone else, but now he was beginning to get it. He looked at her, shaking her head and squeezing his hand as if he would let go of her. His eyes trailed to her arms, to the scars he knew where beneath, and he realized Ahnmi had been let down too many times to understand otherwise. If words wouldn’t do, how else could he show this girl before him just how much she meant? “Mark,” Ahnmi spoke up, breaking him out of his thoughts. “No matter what happens, you’ll be my favorite memory about this place.” He could only remain silent, unsure what to make of her words. He didn’t want to become just a memory to her. He wanted more, wanted to be more too. But Ahnmi’s grip on his hand loosened and with it, his courage to speak up. She turned to him with a smile. One that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Shall we go back now?” - Ahnmi shuffled around her room aimlessly. After Mark dropped her off and she was left on her own again, she couldn’t help but feel a bit empty. The conversation they shared together didn’t feel complete, like they both were holding back their tongues. It made her feel restless. So, instead of overthinking their conversation, Ahnmi took to cleaning her room. She rustled with her things absentmindedly, shuffling through her drawers before making her way through her school bag. “Oh,” she muttered as an envelope slipped from her bag. It was the love letter. She had almost forgotten all about it. Rereading through the note, she got to her feet again. The author of the note wanted to meet today. She was supposed to meet them afterschool. Without thinking, Ahnmi pulled on a sweater and left the house. It would be rude to stand them up, right? Ahnmi glanced at Mark’s gate as she left the house. For a moment, she wondered if she should tell him, but shook her head at the thought. Mark would just tell her to stay in bed anyways. When Ahnmi arrived at the school entrance she felt a wave of heat rush to her face as eyes landed on her before quickly averting their attention to something else. She quickly made her way to the back garden before any more attention fell on her. Her palms were sweaty with nerves and her heart was racing, but she held onto the white envelope firmly. If someone had the courage to write her this letter, the least she could do was respond back to them. And so with cold sweat running down her spine, Ahnmi sat on the bench and waited. The blue afternoon sky quickly lit with bright orange before fading into a soft pink dusk. And still, no one. Ahnmi shivered as the evening air began to settle around her. She sighed. What was she even thinking coming here? If anyone had liked her, after the incident, whatever interest they had must be gone. Who would ever like someone as broken as she was? Ahnmi clutched the envelope in her hand before folding it carefully. She didn’t deserve their love anyways. She was too much of a burden to be loved. She sighed, tucking the paper into her pants pocket. It was just like the guys too. Yeah, she had a nice talk with Yugyeom, but Yugyeom was her cousin. They’ve had their whole lives to bond and understand each other. Even then though, she felt awkward now that he knew. What kind of noona was she? This whole time he’s been protecting her when she’s the one who’s supposed to be taking care of him. Maybe her parents were right. She should’ve gone to study abroad from the beginning. Instead, she selfishly begged to stay with Yugyeom because she was scared and didn’t want to be alone. Now look what she did. She made her baby cousin cry and ruined his high school experience. This incident was going to sit like a scar in his memories, just like hers were marked in her arms. And Mark. Thinking about him made Ahnmi’s eyes water. They could play pretend for as long as they wanted but she knew things were not the same and a big part of her was worried they might never be. This was why she never wanted to be close with anyone in the first place. All of Yugyeom’s friends and all the new friends she made in class would never look at her the same way again, right? They had all grown to like this cute and pure image of a girl that clearly wasn’t her. Now, they probably hated her for living such a lie. Somehow though, it hurt more when it came to Mark. Of all people, she wanted to protect the way Mark looked at her. Perhaps she was being delusional, but she felt special to Mark and she wanted to remain special. She wanted to keep hearing his laughter and feeling his arms wrap around her body. She wanted to keep her fingers safely between his and feel the way his thumb would rub reassuringly across the back of her hand. She wondered if that was too selfish of her too. What right did she have to burden him like that? The answer was, she didn’t. Ahnmi rubbed at her damp eyes with the sleeves of her sweater and took a deep breath trying to collect herself. Her eyes traveled through the garden. She was eating lunch here with the guys just a few days ago. She hadn’t noticed but the flowers were in full bloom already. Time really flew by. She used to be all alone and now she was eating lunch and laughing openly with her class president, Sungjae and classmates, Taehyung and Jimin. She remembered them teasing each other loudly while Chunhyuk and Youngjae dribbled a soccer ball back and forth between them. Ahnmi’s heart ached thinking about this. It was the kind of friend group she used to dream about when she was a first year student. If she knew how much it would hurt to lose such a thing, she would have never wished for it in the first place. Because other than Mark and Yugyeom none of the other guys had reached out to her. Even Youngjae, her best friend, has been absolutely silent. But she couldn’t even be hurt because it was a given. Why would he want to associate himself with someone as messed up as she was? He was her sunshine and she was a rain cloud. The two just didn’t mix. Ahnmi finally rose from her seat. It was getting late and she was sure her aunt and uncle would be worried if she didn’t head back. This was okay, Ahnmi tried to convince herself. She started this journey alone anyways. It was only right that she finished it alone too. With her head down, Ahnmi made her way back to the school entrance. “Ahnmi!” a voice called out. “Noona!” “There you are!” Ahnmi raised her head to see a group of boys running towards her—Jackson, Bambam, Youngjae, and Sungjae. “Where have you been all day?” Jackson asked, wiping at the sweat on this forehead. “We just came from your house!” “We were texting you all day!” Bambam complained. “Oh,” Ahnmi looked at them with wide eyes as they huffed with exhaustion. “My phone…was stolen.” Jackson elbowed Bambam in the rib while Youngjae and Sungjae pulled her by the arms, laughing loudly. “He’s joking!” Youngjae laughed, linking his arm with hers. “We were just excited to show you something.” “Yeah, good thing we coincidentally ran into each other!” Sungjae added, doing the same to her other arm. “Show me something?” Ahnmi asked, following them in shock. “It’s a surprise!” Jackson teased before jogging ahead and leading the way. Before Ahnmi could question further, she was quickly pulled into the school building. Despite the nervous fluttering of her stomach at being inside school grounds again, she followed obediently as the boys led her towards the auditorium. “Ahnmi!” As the doors opened and she was led inside a resounding shout of her name greeted her. Ahnmi’s smile widened as she was met with all of her friends. Jaebum and Jinyoung smiled her way as Taehyung, Jimin and Chunhyuk waved excitedly. Even Jungkook and Peniel were there, smiling as she greeted them. And of course, as if there was a natural pull, her eyes found their way to Mark, standing behind all of them. He raised an eyebrow, a glint in his eyes, as if he knew what she had been thinking earlier. “What’s going on?” she asked, breaking away from his stare. She looked at Jinyoung and Jaebum. “Why is everyone here? Jinyoung answered with a playful smirk as Jaebum gestured to the stage. “We’re here for the show!” And with that, the lights in the room dimmed and were directed towards the stage. And out jumped Yugyeom from the curtains along with his dance crew. Ahnmi felt her heart race along with the catchy beat of the music. All around her the boys shouted and cheered for Yugyeom and she didn’t know when he had gotten there, but beside her was Mark, sending her a playful wink before he was joining in with the others. Ahnmi stood quietly, smiling as she watched Yugyeom dancing passionately on stage. And then she felt soft fingertips brushing against hers before her fingers were pulled firmly between his—soft and warm and pulsing against her palm. Ahnmi felt her smile grow as her vision grew blurry once more. But this time, her heart felt light. There was a tingle in her spine and it was more than the excitement of the music thrumming against her ears. It was something she hadn’t let herself feel for a long time. It was hope. This time, things might be different. Mark gave her hand a squeeze and she didn’t need to hear him to know what he was telling her. I’m here for you. We all are. - “You were so offbeat at the end!” Mark teased, laughing loudly as Yugyeom pushed him. “So I got a little excited,” he defended himself. Ahnmi chuckled quietly as she walked alongside the rowdy boys after saying goodnight to everyone else. She had long forgotten about the love letter in her pocket. So what if someone, or even a lot of people, decided she was no longer likable because of the incident? Tonight she was reminded that the people she cared about were there for her. Things were really going to be okay. Mark let out a happy sigh as the three stopped in front of their house gates. He looked at Ahnmi, biting at his lip before breaking out into a smile. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning,” he spoke softly. She smiled back, nodding her head quietly. “I guess so.” “Night Mi,” “Night, Oppa,” Mark looked at her one last time before finally turning to his house. She watched as he disappeared into his house before finally turning around. Yugyeom looked at Ahnmi before raising a brow. “What?” Yugyeom shrugged, a small smirk on his lips before he opened their house gate. “Nothing.” “Anyways, that was a great performance, Yugy!” Ahnmi exclaimed, changing the subject. “I think that was your best one yet!” Yugyeom broke into a smile, laughing loudly. “Whatever, Noona! Don’t try to change the subject!” She blushed, turning the knob of the door, while trying to keep composed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Wow, what a lie,” Yugyeom laughed, entering the house. “You two were—” “Hey kids,” Yugyeom’s mom interrupted. “Ahnmi,” Yugyeom’s dad added solemnly. “We need to talk.” Ahnmi watched as her aunt and uncle shuffled in their seats on the couch, her aunt’s hands nervously folded in her lap. “It’s about your school enrollment.” - Thanks for reading! This series updates ever Friday and Saturday 8PM EST.

So like... all of the asks in the autumn lost (or the ones you haven't been asked) 🥰

Hi lovely! Thanks for sending these!

lantern: how did you met your best friend and what were your first impressions of one another?

My best friend and I met in freshman year of high school and we didn't talk to each other or interact at all for a whole year until sophomore year when she joined the cross country team. at first, we thought there was NO WAY we would become friends. At the time we were polar opposites in virtually every sense of the word. But that same year we ended up having like 5 out of 7 classes together, so friendship happened anyway. and now there's hardly anything at all that we disagree on. after HS we spent a good 6 years living in different states, but now for the first time since before we could drive, we live 10 minutes away from each other and its like sophomore year all day every day.

frost: if you could give some advice to your younger self, what would it be?

I would 110% tell myself these two things: A) Don't worry so much about what other people think. You can only change the thoughts in your own head, and their opinions don't matter nearly as much as your own. and 2) save more money you spendy bitch! ugh. i used to go out after work like ALL the time when i was in my early 20s and sure it was fun but i do not even want to think about what i could have now if i didn't have all those long island iced teas then.

fireside: if you had your dream wardrobe what would it be?

I would raid Florence Welch's stash of long flowy fairy gowns, and then the rest would be equal parts tie dye tee shirts, sweat pants, jeans and boots.

cider: a food that you disliked as a child but you now enjoy:

brussels sprouts. i have a VIVID memory of sitting at the dinner table until ike 9:30 one night because my dad was very much a "you're not leaving the table until you finish your dinner" kind of dad and i was very much a "watch me sit here all night then" type of daughter. (i still am but he got soft. i blame my siblings.) but now i love dem lil cabbages.

amber: share an unpopular opinion that you might have:

the song all about that bass? its the worst song to have ever been written. and that's how i feel about that.

fog: how well do you think you would do in a zombie apocalypse scenario?

OMG SO WELL. like, not that i want the earth to crawl with the undead, but if ever it did it would be my time to shine. i have thought extensively about what sort of everyday items could be used as weapons or armor. (those screens on your fireplace? that's zombie proof chain mail just waiting to happen.) i love camping, i know how to fight, and i don't scare easily. bring on the zombies, i'm ready.

jack-o-lantern: if you could look like any celebrity who would you choose?

i can honestly say that i have never thought about this at all. so i have no answer. oops.

orchard: share one thing you would like to happen this fall:

I have some friends from college that live out of state and I haven't seen them in over a year due to life being crazy on all three of our ends, so i would REALLY like to do a friendsgiving get together with them.

*bonus* something i hope that happens for someone else this fall: My husband is looking to compete in a BJJ tournament this November and I really hope he does because I think he's gonna straight up kill his division.

crow: which school subject do you wish you had an aptitude for?

MATH. i can't math. I don't speak numbers. I have tried. I have failed. The only time I "get" math is geometry because I can draw shapes and actually see them.

bonfire: describe your dream house:

Big, old shore house with weathered brown shingles. a wrap around porch and white shutters. hardwood floors, an open floorplan, a kitchen that could be on a TV cooking show and enough bedrooms to have lots of guests stay over.

Cobweb: do you miss high school?

OMG NO EFFING WAY. You could not pay me to go back to high school. College though. That was a TIME.

Cranberry: what’s one physical feature that you get complimented on?

My hair. It’s wild. It’s big and curly and long and crazy.

Quilt: how do you take your coffee or tea?

Coffee- black like the night.

Tea- honey and lemon

Moonlit: are you a neat or messy person?

Hahahahaha I am chaotic. I have a sign on my desk that says “I like my desk messy and my whiskey neat” and that’s honestly the best description of my organization style and beverage choice.

Ghost: is there someone that you miss having in your life?

My mom. I miss her all the time. I’ll randomly have a thought or something will happen and for half a second I’ll think “I gotta call mom she’s gonna love this” and it sucks that I can’t. It will be 8 years this November and sometimes it feels like decades and other times it feels like yesterday

RHETT  MONTGOMERY

                          ( 23 ,  cis man , he/him )

♪♫ currently listening  ⧸⧸  do you love someone by grouplove

a trickle of sweat between shoulderblades, tousled hair, the sweetness of the first bite into an apple. a single sunflower alone in a field of grass, puppy-dog enthusiasm, unsent texts. ice on indigo bruises, ace bandages neatly rolled, excited ramblings bitten back. distant eyes, the taste of water when parched, the way crickets trill first thing in the morning. a loud, booming bass.

    •  jasper, through sheer luck, was in practically every class you had in high school. you were never close, but by virtue of group projects and a shared love of the local coffee shop as a study spot, you spent a lot of time together. you knew they always thought you were smart, a certainty you didn’t share, and when you didn’t graduate with the rest of your class, you knew they’d had questions, doing your best to dodge them on social media and in person. you knew their intentions were good, but some things you didn’t know if you wanted to share.

    •  emrys was an oddity, but perhaps the strange aspect of your friendship with her was that you had not always been her friend. you weren’t expecting to be homecoming king, weren’t expecting the chaos and attention that followed. suddenly you were holding hands on a float, smiling uncomfortably, spending more and more time with her. your friends assumed you were dating, why wouldn’t they? an athlete and a cheerleader, the homecoming king and queen, what could be more perfect than that, and it was so easy to let them believe it. for some reason, you trusted her, comfortable sharing tidbits of your life that went deeper than sports and smiles, and you could tell she felt the same. it was only ever a friendship for both of you, but both of you had your own reasons for letting others believe it was anything more. (in truth, it was the same reason. one thing you never discussed? who you were actually attracted to.)

also connected to auclair

taken by ryan  ⧸⧸  cody kearsley

Pressure. He’s cracked under it, overcome it, and thrived because of it. Living up to the standards of one of the most well-regarded families in Tenebrin Port (residents of Renfrew Heights, no less) took focus and dedication. With an accountant for a father and a professor for a mother, it was expected he would be an intellectual. If that wasn’t enough, back in his glory days his dad was shortlisted for the NFL until a shoulder injury put him out of commission. Naturally, Rhett was expected to follow in the man’s footsteps. He was a kindergartener at Roosevelt Elementary when he first learned how to throw and sustain a tackle. The pressure to finish what his father had started wasn’t unwarranted; Rhett had inherited his talent. Growing up, if he wasn’t studying, he’d be in the backyard doing drills, wind sprints, and perfecting his form. The weekends he spent fishing down at the Lookout were his only respite from the grueling hours of conditioning and schoolwork. But through it all, his dad was his best coach and his mom his biggest cheerleader. Their approval and support meant everything; he could always count on them to root for him in the stands.

With a Letterman jacket and good looks to boot, popularity came easy for him at Cecil Morgan. No one, not even Rhett, was surprised when he found himself crowned Homecoming king. Few things in Rhett’s mundane existence were surprising, aside from the fact he’d never had a girlfriend. Not a real one anyway. His best friend masquerading as one to cover his secret left unspoken didn’t count. It didn’t click why even she, the hottest cheerleader in school and most incredible girl in Tenebrin, couldn’t get him going. According to the movies, he was meant to actually enjoy slow dancing with his queen, not spend it eyeing one of his male teammates schmoozing by the punch table.

Rhett wasn’t in denial; his attraction towards men wasn’t a mystery to him. But the timing of coming to terms with his sexuality was far from ideal. Bigger things were at stake. When he was finally ready to rip off the bandaid and come out, he didn’t want to further burden his parents. Months after he’d gotten his crown and graduation was in sight, his father came under investigation for aiding in tax evasion. Most of their savings, including his college fund, went to paying off the press. His father worked for some high profile clients. The last thing they wanted was a scandal and the Montgomerys would rather struggle in silence than damage their reputation in Tenebrin. It seemed hiding behind a facade ran in his blood.

With his father out of work and his mother out on a research sabbatical, it became difficult to sustain their lifestyle. Rhett volunteered to pick up shifts as a barista at Has Bean, his favorite study spot. Bitter as he was that his parents had squandered the money meant to propel him out of town and into his future, he felt an obligation to provide for them. He became a caregiver and what little income he made from his wage and tips went towards putting food on the table. In the midst of legal battles and long hours at the cafe, his grades and attendance suffered. Not that he cared. None of it mattered. It was too late in the game to apply for scholarships. His parents didn’t have the money to send him to any of the prestigious places he’d been accepted – all of which would rescind those acceptances when they saw his final semester’s academic performance. It was pointless. And he made sure not to show up on his intended graduation date to avoid the embarrassment.

Rhett’s father was soon prosecuted for aiding and abetting a tax crime earning himself five years in federal prison. He spent the summer in a daze. Reality set in that his dad might not be the man he always knew him to be. How could he have spent his whole life admiring and respecting a criminal? Because that didn’t change who he was. So he had his secrets and lived behind a mask. So did Rhett. As the new school year approached, his mother begged him to save face with his classmates and maintain that all was well on the homefront. Part of his role in ensuring people stopped asking questions was to complete his second senior year without complaint. Classes were easy since he’d already sat through a year of the same material. Lucky for him, since he spent most of his days distracted eyeing the new enigmatic, exchange student. Perhaps, it’s true what they say. Everything happens for a reason. The butterfly effect. If his father hadn’t broken the law he wouldn’t have stayed at Cecil Morgan for another year. And if he hadn’t stayed at school for an extra year, he wouldn’t have found himself in the back corner of a party kissing the best thing to happen to him in this godforsaken town that seemed to take everything from him. Including Andy Clare.

His father, his hopes and dreams, the headstrong girl with more potential for success than them all. Tenebrin takes and takes and takes. And yet, Rhett was stuck. He got his own place, a studio on Leforge Avenue, and went full-time as a manager at Has Bean. Most of the others from that night had gotten out, avoiding the inevitable. But he knew nothing could ever assuage the endless guilt he felt. They were responsible. No one told Andy to jump into the water that night, but not one of them tried to save her. Not one of them tried to overcome their own fear. Searching for ways to remedy his facing mind in the evenings when he was home alone, Rhett took up painting. It was therapeutic to unjumble the images in his mind on a blank canvas. Strangely, he found his biggest inspiration the first time he ever visited the bench named in memoriam for Andy down at the Lookout.

His artwork had one common theme: water; what he feared more than anything else. The sound of a wave crashing against the shore had lost all of its former peacefulness. Now it only caused him to shutter. Don’t go into the water, he reminded himself. Easier said than done. Every night for the past few months he’s had the same vision of Andy screaming, thrashing beneath the waves, then rising above the water in a flash of light and echo of song beckoned him to the old lighthouse.

Between the dream, his father’s impending release in a few months, and the arrival of some familiar faces in town he’s on the verge of a visit with the ghosts of his past. Those are dangerous waters to navigate for someone who’s become a recluse and cut off the world in the midst of trauma. The pressure’s on. Will Rhett sink or will he swim?

Last Goodbye

@a-monthly-rumbelling For some of the images on the mood board.

WARNINGS - Character death. Cancer. Mourning. Angst.

-x-x-x-

Belle’s traveled to America to find Weaver and carry out Lacey’s last wishes.

-x-x-x-

Finding Detective Weaver hadn’t been easy. Belle had been hampered by the fact he didn’t appear to have a first name, and everyone in the Hyperion Heights police department looked at her as if they’d seen a ghost. She’d expected that reaction, of course, she was used to it, she was Lacey’s twin after all. Finally, she’d managed to track down Weaver’s old partner, Rogers. He’d been skittish about speaking to her, but at least he hadn’t done the usual and blurt out something like ‘Damn you’re the spitting image of Lacey’, that was never going to get easier to hear.

Rogers listened to what she had to say and shrugged; “The thing about Weaver is he values his privacy.”

Belle swallowed her sigh; “Lacey told me as much, which is why she asked me to go to him, rather than send a lawyer.”

Rogers cocked his head at her and frowned; “Why didn’t you talk to him at the funeral?”

“Weaver was at Lacey’s funeral?”

She listened in shock as he explained how Weaver had taken compassionate level and flew to Australia as soon as he’d gotten word of Lacey’s passing. He’d been right there in the chapel, and never introduced himself, or spoken a word to her. Thinking back Belle had a dim recollection of a man in a dark denim standing at the back of the chapel.

“He came back a few days after the funeral, that’s when we found out he’d quit, cleaned out his desk and left.”

Belle took a shaky breath and tried to keep her tone level; “Since Weaver didn’t take a moment to offer his condolences I’ve had to fly half-way around the damn world to carry out my sister’s last wishes, so how about you make this hell of a trip a tiny bit easier for me and give me his goddamn address?”

Rogers handed over a folded piece of paper; “Weaver was a tough one, but he fell apart when Lacey left.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling. She left me twice.”

-o0o-

It was a four-hour drive from Hyperion Heights to the little coastal town Weaver had relocated to. Belle didn’t take in any of the scenery, she just kept her eyes on the road. When there was a break in the music, she could hear the gentle slosh of the bottle in the back seat. She ignored it, wouldn’t, couldn’t let herself think about what, who was sitting in a box next to that bottle.

-o0o-

Rogers had called ahead to warn him, so he’d spent most of the last few hours keeping watch on the road from his porch. Weaver watched the little rental car pull up to his house. He braced himself, but the shock of seeing someone who looked so like Lacey get out still knock the breath from his lungs. As she got closer, he could see the differences, subtle things in the way she carried herself, little gestures that Lacey would never have made.

He stood up as she reached the steps of his porch; “Miss French.”

“Mr Weaver.”

During the long tense moment that followed Weaver learned the Belle did share some traits with Lacey. He recognized that look of burning anger simmering in her eyes. From Lacey that had meant a yelling match followed by hot, angry make-up sex. From Belle he suspected that the yelling match would be followed by him getting slapped in the face.

“Would you like to come inside?”

“I suppose that would be best.”

Oh yeah, he’d be lucky if a slap was all he got. As soon as she was clear of the door Belle spun on her heel and glared at him.

“You could have saved me a long trip, had you bothered to introduce yourself at the funeral.”

He softly closed the door and moved away from it.

“I was planning to, but after I heard your eulogy I couldn’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

Weaver glanced at her, but quickly looked away; “You want a drink?”

He heard rustling as she reached into the large bag over her shoulder; “Lacey thought you might need a few. She sent you this.”

Belle was holding out a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue. Weaver took it from her with a frown; “This makes no sense. This is my favourite tipple, but why would she send you here with this when she never told me she was sick?”

“Oh, for fucks sake!”

Weaver jerked, for a second there it was as if Lacey was in the room. As it turned out she was in a way. Belle lifted an urn from her bag and set it on his coffee table, then she sat down on his couch.

“I’ll take that drink, please.”

He bounced the bottle of Johnnie Walker in his hand and picked up two glasses from the shelf. His hands went through the familiar motions of cracking the seal and unscrewing the lid, but his eyes never left the urn, even as he poured two very large measures into the waiting glasses. He handed Belle a glass and was about to take a sip from his own when he paused and reached for a third glass. He filled it and place in in front of the urn.

Belle and he raised their glasses in a silent toast to the dead. The silence lingered for long minutes afterwards until Belle spoke.

“She just arrived, no phone call, just walked into my library with a grin on her face and said ‘wotcher sis’, like it had only been a week since we’d seen each other not three years.

When she told me why she had come home, that she was dying of the same cancer that had taken our mom, to be honest I felt like throttling her. It’s so hard watching a some one you love wither away, and she’d come home so I’d have to watch her fade.”

Belle snorted and took a sip of her drink; “I actually asked her why she hadn’t stayed in America with all of her precious friends.”

“What did she say?”

“That she didn’t know how to get through death with her friends, but she did with me.”

He didn’t know what to say. Lacey had sought the comfort of family in her final days, he could understand that, but by doing so she had placed an impossible burden on her sister. He took a swing of whiskey and sighed; “I wish she’d told me.”

“Would you have stayed with her to the end?”

“Yes.”

Belle reached over for the bottle and topped up their glasses. Weaver was surprised at how much she had drunk, he’d not noticed her keeping pace with him.

“I thought you were just another of her fuck buddies at first.”

He huffed; “Yeah we started that way, but then we were something more. At least I thought we were.”

The bitter sting that Lacey hadn’t told him of her cancer had changed into a dull ache beneath his ribs, a constant companion to the hole in his heart.

“Watching mom die killed our father, did you know that?”

He shook his head. Lacey hadn’t talked much about her parents.

“Yeah. Destroyed him, the man he was died the day of her funeral, the bitter empty man he became walked around for another six years before his heart gave out.”

The whiskey caught the fading light as he rolled the glass between his hands as he considered her words. He had been a jaded and bitter bastard before Lacey had crash-landed in his life. Had she cared enough about him to not want him to watch her die?

“She could have given me the choice.”

He felt Belle shrug; “We lived through what happened to dad after he made the choice to stay. I can understand why she wouldn’t want to risk that happening again.”

He was about to say that not knowing she was ill had pretty well fucked him up anyway, except it hadn’t, not it that way. He was grieving, but he wasn’t self-destructive, he’d quit his job partly because he was tired of it, but mostly because he knew it would be far too easy for him to take his grief out on the scumbags of Hyperion Heights. He couldn’t help but smile at the urn, he could almost see Lacey raising an eyebrow at him and pointing out her way was the right way.

For the first time since they had started talking, he turned his gaze from the urn and onto Belle. The fire had drained from her eyes, replaced with sadness and something else he couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was it set his copper instincts tingling; “Why did she want you to bring her to me?”

“She wants us to scatter her ashes together, into the sea at sunset she said.”

They both looked out of the window, the sun was getting low. Weaver reached for the bottle of whisky and Belle for the urn, as one they rose. He led her through the house to the back door and the little path that wound its way to the shore. It was strange, Belle fell into step with him as easily as Lacey had, but it so different.

They stopped on the edge of the waves. The setting sun had painted the sky in shades of magenta and orange.

“Lacey had a lipstick that colour in her goth phase. The purple not the orange.”

Weaver nodded; “She did her nails in something close to the orange once.”

Belle’s hands were trembling as she offered the urn to Weaver. He tucked the whiskey bottle under his arm and steadied the urn with one hand as he unscrewed the lid with the other. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes. He knew she wanted to know if he wanted to say something.

“Love you Lacey. Safe travels sweetheart.”

It wasn’t much, he’d never been a poet, but it felt right. Together the tipped the urn. The wind caught the ashes and scattered them over receding sea. Belle held the urn loosely by her side as Weaver unscrewed the whiskey bottle and poured a large shot into the water. He offered the bottle to Belle, who took a swig and handed it back to him. As Weaver took a drink Belle shivered.

“She went out on her own terms at the end, but she was very sick. I had to help her.”

Weaver wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He knew now why Lacey had wanted them to do this together. From what he’d seen at the funeral Belle didn’t have many people to help her through this. He’d cut himself off from everyone who might have helped him. Lacey had brought them together so they could support each other.

They’d have to talk at some point, but for now they stood together as the tide ebbed and the colours of the sunset faded from the sky.

👀

my parents took me to see the three gorges when I was young, and since the dam was just newly constructed, most of the three gorges wasn’t flooded. So, only these small rickety ferries could ferry people up and down the Yangtze River to see the famous cliffs? mountains? because of how narrow some parts of the river is. however, to get onto these small rickety ferries you has to travel on larger ferries and make it up (or I guess down? depending on how you classify direction?) the Yangtze, and do my parents decide to make it into a whole Trip™ of hitting up all the major tourist sights on the Yangtze, starting from Shanghai and ending in Chongqing, through Wuhan.

quick side note: my dad is a believer of the three teachings and also is super superstitious (as are most Asian parents besides my mom) so he really wanted us to stop at the Fengdu Ghost City to get blessings for us for the rest of the trip. The city itself is really quite terrifying since it looks like it was built in the lap of this random dude in Han Dynasty dress half buried into the hill. Putting aside how terrifying the city was to a small 9 year old and being forced to throw coins into a old ass coffin (bc there’s a saying in Chinese 见棺发财 which is basically a belief that ‘if you see a coffin in your dreams you will become rich’) so it’s this really macabre make a wish in the fountain?

anyways back to the story: there’s this really long staircase from the shores of the Yangtze River to the ghost city itself that is just a straight shot down and really wide and terribly lit and incredibly worn. My parents and I were on our way back from the city, and I was trying to run off the spike of adrenaline from being scared out of my wits so I was fooling around on these unstable worn stone staircases like the idiot that I am. And since it was evening and lights were casting these shadows on these stairs you know how your eyes get fatigued and nothing makes sense anymore? Yea.

long story short: I fucked up and misstepped on these long ass wobbly stairs and basically almost snowballed my ass down the stairs and into the Yangtze River if I didn’t bump into this huge muscle man. I think I bruised my nose running face first into this dudes back but honestly I’m not complaining. Thank you mr. Muscles for saving me and i owe you both coffee and also my life.

send me a 👀 and i will tell you something stupid i have done in my life >:)

Day No: 17

Prompt: “Please don’t move!”

Fandom/OC: Superman and Lois with an Arrow Character

Medium: fic

Trigger Warnings: none

SFW

Additional Tags: lighthearted whump, if that makes sense

Jonathan didn’t know why he was cold. The weather hadn’t gotten that bad while he was walking back from Tegan’s. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing, a bright light blinding him. Then, he started moving. “Stop!” someone shouted. Whatever it was, it could wait until he could get up and see. “Stop!” Okay, he was just standing. “Please don’t move! It’s about to collapse!”

“What?” he gasped.

The bright light moved and he saw a rusted metal gate underneath him. Multiple pipes running up and down the wavering structure creaked and groaned with wind. Looking out, he couldn’t really see beyond the railing as the night covered the area. It was only when the light moved behind him that he saw water lapping at rocky shores. “Where am I?” he asked, voice breaking.

“Faraday Lighthouse,” the person answered. Jonathan didn’t see anyone until a girl wandered underneath the grate.

“That doesn’t really help.”

Her head turned up. “Oh, hi. Wow, you are so my friend’s type,” she said.

He laughed once, strained as well, “What?”

She realized her slip up. “Sorry, I have my Dad’s mouth in bad situations,” she apologized, “It’s an old, creepy lighthouse on the Atlantic Ocean. Mass murder happened to a family forty plus years ago and it’s supposed to be haunted. I heard you groaning and hoped you were a ghost. One of the mass murder victims, not of yourself.”

Jonathan really didn’t understand why this was happening. “Okay, great story. How do I get down?”

“Uhh,” she said, before shrugging.

“How did you get up here, then?”

“The stairs, which multiple steps collapsed right after I stepped on them.” She was rather rueful after that, looking down at her body and poking it. “I swear I’m not heavy. But I’ve been trying to look around for a safe way to get to you, but most of that walkway is damaged. Too much rust and weather.”

He nodded, hearing the metal creak with the wind. “Okay.” Jonathan could, get the ELT out of his pocket and call for Dad. No problem. Except the ELT wasn’t in his pocket. He fumbled through the other ones, but nothing came up. “Hey, is anything below me?”

“What?”

“My, uh, my phone, and something else fell out of my pocket.”

She nodded. Then disappeared from sight. After a minute, she came back with something small and silver. “No phone, but is this the something else you were mentioning?”

“Yes!” he gasped, feeling better.

“Okay, good. Somehow it’s just as good if not better than a cell phone, considering how you’re acting.”

“It’s an ELT. My family has them to call for Superman in bad situations.”

Her eyes grew. “Oh.”

He laughed, before his weight finally made the walkway break, sending him tumbling not inside, but outside towards the rocks below. “Oh no, no no no,” she muttered, before figuring out the device. “Superman! He’s about to hit the rocks.” She wasn’t sure if it got through before seeing a flash of red and blue. She didn’t want to get close to the edge before Superman floated up to the open area. She squeaked. “Hi.”

His smile was amused. “Jonathan said the stairs broke behind you.”

“Jonathan, cool. That’s his name,” she said, before handing over the ELT. “I swear I’m not fat.”

He laughed, “I’m sure you’re not. This place should be condemned. Why don’t I get you back down? Your friend’s worried.”

“Yeah, Will’s worried. Make sense.” She was not used to superhero saves, and kept abnormally still while Superman brought her down to Jonathan, and William. Once she was safe on the ground, she collapsed onto William.

“Sara, you’re worrying me.”

“I’m worrying me.”

Jonathan laughed while his Dad rolled his eyes. “I’ll take Jonathan back to his parents. You two should get back home.”

William nodded, “We totally should. Felicity Mom and Mom have been texting me for the last hour.”

“I haven’t even checked my phone. Dad’s probably asleep, but Mom was in Black Siren mode. Which is a little creepy, to be honest.” The two started walking back to the road, leaving Jonathan looking at his dad. The man was a bit confused and surprised.

“Dad?”

“That was William Clayton.”

“Yeah?”

He threw an arm around his shoulder. “That’s Oliver’s son. And I’m guessing the girl was Sara Merlyn, Tommy Merlyn and Laurel Lance’s daughter.”

Jonathan grinned, “Cool, then it’s fine that I grabbed his number.”

OC Questions

huge shoutout to @discord-of-laughter for tagging me in this!! sorry it took so long, i impulsively decided to make 2 more new ocs and couldn’t decide if I wanted them to be in Divergent, The Gifted or Star Wars (they’re still a work in progress)!!

i’m gonna tag @lilysmuses !!

Facts

List five basic facts about your OC:

Eloise:

Was training to be a Guard on the Ark with Bellamy before her arrest

Arrested for aggravated assault. 

Knew about Octavia Blake a few years after she was born.

Likes to go exploring Earth

Always wears a jacket which used to be her father’s

Madeline:

Moved from California to Gotham

Became a forensic scientist at the GCPD

Already has a bit of an alcohol dependency problem, which escalates when she becomes an undercover bartender at The Sirens.

Was given the nickname ‘Mirror’ by Barbara

A hopeless lesbian who tries her best to flirt but often fails

Brett:

His mom unexpectedly left Brett and his father when he was 2.

Until Brett found out the truth, he thought his father was a businessman.

Works in the recruiting part of Kingsman, partially because he likes scaring new recruits

Has a bit of an anger issue.

Not very good with guns, but is excellent at hand to hand combat.

Dorothy:

If she hadn’t been recruited by Kingsman, she would’ve probably ended up working in the ER

She and her mother live together, and the two have a very good relationship

She doesn’t know who her father is.

Likes to paint in her spare time.

Buries herself in her work whenever she’s stressed about something

Olivia:

Doesn’t spend a lot of time at home between school and working at a local bookstore.

Very close with her younger brother, Scott, and is very protective of him.

Doesn’t have many friends at school, until Cook invites her to a party one day.

Generally very calm and quiet, but can be very stern if she has to be.

Plans to move out once she finishes school and take care of her brother on her own. 

Trysha:

The eldest daughter of the Starks.

Closest to Arya, although she loves all her siblings.

Is very family oriented and would do anything to protect those she loves.

Has a grey Direwolf named Ashwood, who is still alive and is always by her side.

Although she is the eldest and technically the Lady of Winterfell, she declines and insists that Sansa remain in the leadership role. 

Alexandra:

Started working at Nelson and Murdock quite quickly after she graduated law school.

A bit of a workaholic.

Doesn’t agree with Matt’s life as a vigilante, especially since she sides with the law more than the work of vigilantes.

Accompanies Matt when he goes to serve as Jessica’s lawyer, which is the beginning of how she meets all the Defenders.

Follows in Foggy’s footsteps and gets a job at Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz when Nelson and Murdock shuts down.

Ryan:

Had wanted to work for NASA and go to space his whole life.

On his first mission in space, an asteroid knocked out his engine, sending him into an asteroid belt.

Rocket had caught sight of his ship, and he was saved by the Guardians.

Thought he was dead or hallucinating when he woke up and met the Guardians.

Creates a special radio, with the help of Rocket, which he often uses to communicate with his family.

Zachary:

Has the power to manipulate and implement death on any living thing around him.

Grew up imprisoned at an A.R.G.U.S. lab until he is freed by Lily.

Accidentally almost kills Ray when the Legends find him and Lily’s metahuman refuge.

Doesn’t trust the Legends and was upset that Lily wanted to go with them.

Is incredibly insecure about his powers and believes he hasn’t fully accessed his full potential.

Lily:

Has the power to manipulate all sort of energy, including life force.

Knows her power isn’t as strong as Zach’s, which she believes is because death is stronger than life.

Wants to become part of the Legends so that one day she can change the timeline and erase A.R.G.U.S.’ existence.

Does not forgive her father for experimenting on metahumans, although she misses her parents very much.

Is very trusting and optimistic, despite all she’s seen

Natalyie

The only survivor the massacre at Tuanul, was saved by Poe and escaped with BB-8.

Becomes close friends with Finn and Rey when she becomes part of the adventure.

Meets Mia when she decides to stay at the Resistance base.

Skilled with a speeder and other vehicles, eventually trains to become a pilot.

Becomes close with Mia when she is assigned to maintain Natalyie’s ship

Mia

Has been a part of the Resistance all her life.

Was taught to be a mechanic from her father and older brother.

Blames herself for the death of her mother when her ship malfunctions during a mission.

Also good with droids

Close friends with Poe and the Tico sisters

Are they in love or do they have a crush? A relationship?

Eloise: If you’d ask her straight up, she tell you no to all three, even though Raven would say otherwise. She has a weird relationship with Bellamy, which is somewhere between best friends and something more, but Eloise is still reluctant to let people too close. 

Madeline: Madeline has the biggest crush on Barbara, and she doesn’t even bother trying to hide it. They eventually start dating, even when Madeline is supposed to be undercover.

Brett: Brett has a massive crush on Eggsy, but he’s too afraid to say something about it.

Dorothy: Dorothy has a tiny crush on Jack, but they also have a bit of a weird relationship that borders between mentor/apprentice, friends and something more. But Dorothy knows he’s still not over the death of his wife.

Olivia: Olivia has a tiny crush on Cook, but she’s too shy to tell him about it. Especially since she think’s he’s more interested in Effy than her.

Trysha: Trysha definitely wouldn’t say she’s in love, but she has a bit of a soft spot for Jaime, even though they’ve only met once or twice, because she thinks he’s truly good at heart. But she’s not sure if she’d describe that as a crush.

Alexandra: Alexandra had hooked up with Matt, yet it never went anywhere. They both tried to make it work, but it eventually fizzled out, especially with the arrival of Elektra catalysing it. She’d want to try again if she had the chance, but otherwise, she’d rather focus on work. 

Ryan: Ryan’s never had that many crushes his whole life, even back on Earth, and sometimes he wonders if he’ll ever find someone. However, if he doesn’t, he think’s he’ll be content with it, especially he loves being with the Guardians.

Zachary: Zachary is in love with Lily, no matter how hard he tries to deny it. She’s his best friend, and he gets incredibly jealous when she starts hanging out with the other Legends.

Lily: Lily will fall in love with someone at the drop of a hat. She’s pretty sure she’s had crushes on half of the Legends already, but she has a soft spot for Zachary.

Natalyie: Natalyie had been attracted to Mia right from the start, and has asked her out. The two have been in a relationship ever since.

Mia: Mia is been in a relationship with Natalyie, and is secretly grateful Natalyie is so upfront with her feelings and asked her out first, since Mia is pretty sure she’d be to shy to ever ask Natalyie out. 

Is there a song that makes you think of your OC?

Eloise: Demons by Imagine Dragons 

Madeline: Carried Away by Passion Pit

Brett: The Kids Aren’t Alright by Fall Out Boy

Dorothy: Shore by Daniela Andrade

Olivia: Drop Everything by Barcelona

Trysha: Carry You by Novo Amor

Alexandra: Sick of Losing Soulmates by dodie

Ryan: Some Nights by Fun.

Zachary: Dangerous (feat. Joywave) by Big Data 

Lily: Renegades by X Ambassadors

Natalyie: Unstoppable by The Score

Mia: I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers

If you have more than one OC:

Who was the first? Eloise!!

Who is the tallest? Probably Brett, who’s 6″3′

Who is the shortest? Olivia, who’s 5″2′

Who is the most intelligent? It’s a tie between Dorothy and Ryan, with Mia close behind 

Who is the most ruthless? Eloise and Zachary for sure, and Trysha could be up there when she wants to be.

Who is most likely to get themselves killed? Brett, possible Natalyie

Who has the prettiest singing voice? Olivia is great at singing when she actually opens her mouth, and Madeline is pretty good too.

Who is most likely to become a crazy cat lady? Madeline, I mean, she’s already halfway there with the crazy part. 

Who is the worst cook? Alexandra. She doesn’t even bother anymore, she just gets takeout. 

Who is the most likely to steal candy from a baby? Brett, since Eggsy probably dared him.

Who sings in the shower? Lily and back on the Ark, Eloise, although she’d rather die than admit it. 

Who doesn’t believe in ghosts? Dorothy and Alexandra. Ryan didn’t use to believe, until he got to space, then figured anything was possible. 

Preferences

If your OC could have any superpower, which would it be and why?

Eloise: Eloise would want the power to manipulate time, specifically be able to go back and time and change the past. She wouldn’t be sure how to do it, but she’d make saving her father her top priority. 

Madeline: Madeline would love to be able to read people’s minds and influence them. 

Brett: Brett would want something that enhances him physically, like super strength or super speed -- something that would make him better in combat.

Dorothy: Dorothy would want healing powers. She’s saved lots of lives as a paramedic, but she’s also lost many -- and she hates the feeling of losing someone she’s trying to save. 

Olivia: Olivia would also want to be telepathic. She likes observing people, and she’d be curious to know what goes on in people’s heads.

Trysha: Trysha also want to be able to go back in time and save her family, and everyone else she loves. 

Alexandra: Alexandra sometimes wishes she had enhances abilities, like super speed, because when she’s with the Defenders she sometimes feels a little useless being unable to fight.  

Ryan: Ryan was fascinated by Peter’s abilities on Ego’s planet, and wishes he could control energy, just because it looks cool.

Zachary: --

Lily: --

Natalyie: Natalyie would want pyrokinetic powers, because she develops a little bit of an obsession with fire, because it makes her think of how The First Order destroyed her home, and reminds her what she’s fighting for.

Mia: Mia would want hydrokinetic powers, because water calms her. She likes sitting by rivers or lakes and just listening to the sound of the water.  

What is their favourite kind of candy?

Eloise: Eloise isn’t a fan of sweet things, although she doesn’t mind a little bit of chocolate

Madeline: Lollipops, any flavor

Brett: Chocolate

Dorothy: Gummy worms

Olivia: Also gummy worms, since they’re also Scott’s favorite.

Trysha: Chocolate

Alexandra: Caramel hard candies

Ryan: Any kind of sour candy

Zachary: Any kind of minty candy

Lily: Gummy bears

Natalyie: Lemon sherbets 

Mia: Bubble gum, it helps her concentrate

What’s their favourite flavour?

Eloise: Salt and vinegar

Madeline: Any type of berry

Brett: Sweet and sour, jalapeño 

Dorothy: Coffee, peanut butter

Olivia: Vanilla, cinnamon

Trysha: Lemon, rosemary

Alexandra: Coffee

Ryan: Apple, grape

Zachary: Mint chocolate

Lily: Anything fruity, except orange

Natalyie: Anything citrusy

Mia: Peach

Which TV show do you think they would definitely like if they could watch it?

Eloise: The Amazing Race

Madeline: The Bold Type

Brett: The Punisher

Dorothy: Legion

Olivia: Stranger Things

Trysha: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Alexandra: Narcos

Ryan: Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Zachary: Mindhunter

Lily: The Gifted

Natalyie: Supergirl

Mia: Black Lightning

Details

Name a bad habit your OC has?

Eloise: Shuts people out really easily. All it takes is for one thing to go wrong, and Eloise can completely shut down. It’s a coping mechanism she’s developed to protect herself, since she figures if she doesn’t let anyone close, she won’t get hurt. 

Madeline: Drinking too much. Before she went undercover, Madeline already has a bit of problem with alcohol, but it becomes a full on problem when she starts working at The Sirens. She has problems knowing when to stop. 

Brett: Swearing. A lot. Of course, if you asked him, he wouldn’t think it’s a problem, but especially when he’s mad it can get out of hand. 

Dorothy: Fidgeting. Dorothy is so used to working and moving around a lot, that when she doesn’t have something to do, she usually finds herself pulling at her sleeves, spinning around pens, and generally just being unable to sit still. 

Olivia: Eating too much junk food. Generally, she has a balanced diet, but when she gets stressed she can go through bags of chips and candy without even noticing. 

Trysha: Biting her lips. No matter how much her mother tried to get her to drop the habit, it’s just become something she does. She’ll sometimes pick at the dry skin on her lips too, although she knows she shouldn’t.

Alexandra: Overworking herself. She’ll work day and night and won’t look after herself, and she’ll usually end up stressing herself out. 

Ryan: Staying up late. He doesn’t mean too, but sometimes he’ll get so absorbed in a new invention he’s building, or talking to his family on the radio, he won’t realise he hadn’t slept at all until Peter or Gamora comes by his room the next day. 

Zachary: Incredibly distrusting. He just has a hard time opening up to people, which means often times he comes off as very rude or standoffish when he meets new people. 

Lily: She plays with her hair a lot. Usually when she’s nervous, but even when she’s deep in through she’ll find herself tugging it or twisting it, which means the ends of her hair are kinda frayed. She’ll keep it up out of her face most of the time to stop herself. 

Natalyie: Being a bit close minded. She’s incredibly stubborn, and it takes her a while to see things from another perspective. 

Mia: Stressing herself out too easily, especially over the most minute failure. She’s a bit of a perfectionist, so she doesn’t handle it very well when something goes wrong. 

Empty their pockets – what’s in there?

Eloise: A knife. Maybe a few bullets she forgot she had stashed. Possibly a tool or a loose wire Raven asked her to hold onto and she had forgot to return. 

Madeline: Receipts. Pieces of paper she’s scribbled on. A pen. One or two lipsticks and maybe some mascara. Some loose change she couldn’t be bothered to put in her wallet. 

Brett: Tips from his job as a waiter. His phone. Wallet. Kingsman glasses. 

Dorothy: Surgical gloves. A pen or two. Statesman glasses. Her phone. Lots of hair ties and bobby pins. 

Olivia: Her phone. Wallet. Probably a folded up drawing Scott had given her.

Trysha: A knife or two. An arrowhead. A small piece of fabric she was intending to make into a dress for her mother, but never finished. 

Alexandra: Her phone. Wallet. Apartment keys. Maybe a hairband or two. An earring.

Ryan: A picture of his family. A weapon Rocket had made for him. His radio. 

Zachary: Probably just some lint. 

Lily: A bracelet from her mother. 

Natalyie: Her communications device which she frequently forgets to wear. A small trinket Mia made for her. Knife.

Mia: Loose bolts and screws. Hairbands, both new and broken.  

What makes them (unreasonably) angry or defensive, what kind of behaviour in others can’t they stand? Pet Peeves?

Eloise: Eloise will get incredibly angry if anyone tries to bring up her past against her, or try and hurt her friends. She hates being excluded from important decisions.

Madeline: Madeline gets angry if anyone brings up her alcoholism, or even makes a small remark about how much she drinks. She gets annoyed when others are too serious.

Brett: A lot of things can get Brett riled up, since he’s got a bit of an anger issue. If you try to sideline him or underestimate him, if you’re rude to his friends, even if you just accidentally bump into him, he might snap. 

Dorothy: Not many things can get Dorothy angry or defensive. She’ll get angry if someone threatens her mother, otherwise she’s pretty patient. Occasionally, she’ll get annoyed when the paramedics she’s working with get in her way or aren’t doing their job right, especially if someone’s life is on the line. 

Olivia: Bringing up her family, especially her little brother, is a bit of a sore spot for Olivia and will definitely make her defensive. Other than that, she’s keeps to herself. 

Trysha: Thinking about the death of her parents and brothers gets Trysha incredibly angry, and she also can’t stand when people underestimate her and Arya. 

Alexandra: Alexandra gets annoyed pretty easily, especially if a case doesn’t go right for her. She’s not very good at losing, and will overwork herself to win a case, and expects the people around her to do the same -- so if anyone slacks off around her, she’ll get angry. She also can’t stand slow walkers. 

Ryan: Ryan’s a pretty chill guy, but one of his pet peeves is when someone messes with his stuff. Especially in his room. He has everything in a certain place and has a system for everything, so if someone goes in there and messes it up, which is usually Peter or Drax, that’ll really push his buttons. 

Zachary: Zachary gets angry very easily, but will lose it if something every happens to Lily. He also gets defensive when it comes to his family and his past. 

Lily: Lily gets angry when people don’t believe in her, and also if they try and agitate Zachary. She also gets angry when she can’t help others, but more so getting angry at herself than others. 

Natalyie: Natalyie gets furious thinking about the First Order, and that’s pretty much it. She also gets angry at herself when she fails a mission, or when she’s ordered to fall back or do something she doesn’t fully believe in.

Mia: Mia also gets angry at herself when she fails something. She also gets angry whenever someone doubts her abilities or tries to do her job.   

Is your OC a good liar?

Eloise: She didn’t use to be, but she’s developed the skill over time. But she doesn’t usually lie, she prefers to be upfront. 

Madeline: When it comes to big things that matter, she can be trusted to lie (Jim did send her undercover, after all). But when it comes to little things, not at all. She either gets too flustered or starts getting all giggly, especially when she’s drunk. 

Brett: He’s not great at it. He usually blurts out the truth. 

Dorothy: She can be if she needs to be, but people she’s close to can usually tell if she’s lying. 

Olivia: She’s a decent liar, and becomes better at it. 

Trysha: Although Trysha prefers to tell the truth, she’s an excellent liar when she needs to be, a skill she perfects even more over time.

Alexandra: She’s great at lying. 

Ryan: Not the greatest, both when he was on Earth and in space. 

Zachary: Pretty good at lying, especially since he’s spent most his life being secretive and hiding his true feelings.

Lily: In a serious situation, she can lie decently. Otherwise, she’s not great at it, and gets too nervous. 

Natalyie: Was a great liar as a kid and still is, to this day. 

Mia: Not a good liar, she gets too flustered.