#like i always liked those song moves and neon signs but like... all her stuff is incredible?

[allylikethecat]

okay, so now that I've embarrassed myself oversharing about my taylor swift feelings and how that relates to the death of my childhood on the internet, does anyone listen to Suki Waterhouse because she is my newest obsession lol

[migilini]

Roadtrip - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: just a daydream I had when I saw this GIF. It’s not proofread. I’m open to requests.

Words: 2k

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You and Charlie were on a road trip from LA to Oklahoma and last to Chigaco. Your boyfriend had to move there due to the fact that he got cast in a movie and you were fortunate enough to move with him, being able to work from home. It wasn't your idea to drive all those miles via car, but Charlie doesn't like flying so he avoided it at all cost and because you love him, you accompanied him for those dreadful hours.

It was way too early for your liking, of course Charlie knew that and put up with your grumpy, nontalkative mood, simply shoving a large cup of coffee into your hands. “Ma cœur, how much longer until you're more awake to talk to me?” Charlie asked after a while, as he glanced over to you on the passenger side, his free hand tracing little hearts on your thigh. You yawned and took a sip of the now lukewarm coffee. “About this much.” You measured the amount still in the cup, making him chuckle.

You and Charlie have been dating for nearly one and a half years now, however it feels like it's been much longer. From the start, the two of you were attached at the hip, instantly comfortable around each other. Everybody said that you two moved too fast because you moved in with each other after only three months of dating, but because of Covid you didn't want to risk being apart. Even though objectively speaking, you and Charlie were not the same, you were more daydreaming than actually paying attention and you didn't need the adrenaline in your life, you completed him in a magical way.

Right now you two were two hours in, the coffee was empty and you ass already sore from all the sitting. It was something you always despided about yourself, you could spend all day laying in bed, but you couldn't sit still, changing position every now and then. Tapping your foot to the beat of the song streaming from the radio. Charlie calmly hummed along to the song, his fingers also tapping along. You looked over at him and couldn't love him more.

“Are you excited to see Owen and Jer?” You asked him, breaking the silence. A breathtaking smile overtook his face “You know it! How about you?” You nodded, also excited to see the boys again. “Mhm. I missed them a lot.” The song on the radio changed and you huffed in annoyance, you hated that song. Sensing that, Charlie took out his phone and connected it to the car.

“Charlie! Don't drive and be on your phone!” You snapped it out of his hand, giving him a displeased look. Scrolling through Spotify you eventually choose a song to your liking. 18 by OneDirection blared through the speakers, while you put the volume higher you turned in your seat. “I have loved you since we were 18. Well technically 20 but that's a detail.” You whispered the last part. He scrunched his nose in amusement, a quirk you loved dearly.

The two of you screamed lyrics at the top of your lungs, the car driving on an empty highway. The rest of the world fading away, leaving the two of you in a cozy little bubble of your own. The day continued just like that, the two of you singing to songs and just enjoying the company. You loved seeing him drive, something about it was just so attractive to you, maybe it was the way his arms flexed when he moved the wheel, or the fact that you yourself were unable to drive. Even with your 21 years of life, you refused to sit behind the steering wheel and Charlie had tried several times, it always ended with you in tears.

“Do you want to stop somewhere to sleep? It's getting kinda late and you have been driving the whole day.” you questioned, looking at the horizon as the last beams of yellow and red vanished slowly. “Yes please. Can you search for a hotel around here?” Nodding, you took his phone and went onto google maps.

“There's one about two hours away in New Mexico. Reviews look good and the price isn't too high. Sadly no breakfast included, so we're gonna get you something on the road, not gonna let you starve, otherwise I will be stranded here.” He gave your thigh a playful slap and a squeeze “Yeah, yeah love you too, Char. I will look it up… Ah perfect! There's a Dunkin Donuts five miles from the hotel. Does that sound good babe?” He hummed in approval.

“Ah a man of words!” he took one of your hands and gave it a light kiss. “You know me. I always wanted to be a Mime.” he joked.

Before you knew it, the car came to a stop in the pitch black. Only a little yellow neon sign lighting up the hotel parking spot.

“This looks like this one Teen Wolf episode…” you murmured, not feeling the best about this place. “You’re just saying that because you're scared of the dark ma cœur. I'm here to protect you. No Monsters are harming you tonight.” he teased, getting out of the car. In typical Charlie fashion, he walked around the car and opened your door and held out a hand for you, immediately intertwining your fingers. 

You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand. “Ha ha…”

The two of you were happy to finally walk off the stiffness of your legs, as you walked over to the reception. 

“Hello. We would have a room please.”

The receptionist was in his late 30s, his greying hair falling messily in his eyes and a big smile sat on his thin lips. “No Problem. Is a king bed alright with the two of you?” he didn't want to assume anything. You and Charlie chuckled, nodding slightly “Preferred actually.”

Five minutes later, you waited in the room 345 while Charlie insisted on getting your bags. Stretching, you tried to get rid of the soreness in your back, your eyes nearly falling shut.

Charlie opened the doors, giving you a tired smile. “Let's get to bed. Tomorrow we rise early!” you groaned, making him chuckle. Standing up, you walked over to him, your arms wrapping around his familiar frame. He was stroking your head, giving it a kiss before walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

In the meanwhile you changed your clothes, changing from some jeans and one of his hoodies to sweatpants and an oversized shirt. 

You gave him a hasty kiss as he came out of the bathroom, smelling the mint of the toothpaste still lingering on his lips. After you washed your face and brushed your teeth, you let yourself fall into the bed. His arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer into him. 

“Thank you.” Turning around to face him, you traced his features with your fingertips “For what?”

“Coming on this drive with me. You could have easily convinced me to fly, you know.”

“I know mon amour.” you said, looking into his eyes, as you tried your best to keep yours open. You left several kisses on his bare shoulders until your lips met his. He smiled into the kiss and then nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, pecking it several times before stopping.

“Good night. I love you.”

“Good night babe. Love you more.”

The next morning came way too fast and you didn't want to move out of his comfortable and safe arms into the cold car, but you had to. The sunrise hadn't even begun, the sky still a dark blue, when the two of you drove into the Dunkin drive through, to get you a coffee and a donut. You had to have something sweet in the mornings.

“Actually, I saw a little restaurant on the way here that should have takeaway, do you mind if we take a quick stop?” you shook your head, trying hard not to fall asleep again. An idea ignited in your head and you sat up straighter. “What if we go live while you drive? Maybe I'll be more awake or I'll have stuff to read.” you requested, looking at your boyfriend with a slight pout.

“Sure thing. I'll bet they'll love it.” Smiling, you grabbed his phone from his hand and went into Instagram.

“Hey Char and y/n here.” you introduced while trying to balance the phone on the dashboard “Its freaking early and I’m nearly falling asleep so I thought you guys could entertain me a bit. Mister Gillespie over here isn't as interesting as you guys.” he pouted into the camera, you leaned forward quickly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The chat was already flooding with hey’s and questions about your relationship and where you were going.

“Is it true that you sometimes talk french to Charlie?” you read from the chat, your eyes widening a little in surprise. 

“Sometimes. I mean my french isn't the best but growing up in Europe, I picked up some stuff.”

“She’s just being humble, she understands a lot and her accent is hella cute.” Charlie piped in, pulling into the drive through he mentioned earlier. “Je vois que tu comprends." He said to you, a slight smile playing on his lips. You got lost in his eyes for a second before responding. “Of course I understand babe!” he grabbed your hand and kissed it softly while chuckling. 

“OMG that was just so cute!” you read out loud from the chat. Blushing slightly, you giggled, “He loves to do stuff like that when he’s driving. Always showing affection in one way or the other.”

“Uhm next question...What are you two doing so early? Someone asks.” with an raised eyebrow you look over to your boyfriend “I think you can answer this.” you turned the camera a bit so he was more in frame. “We're going to Chicoago, Chigacoooo.” he quoted the iconic Victorious scene, his eyes scanning the road before him.

He got himself a cheese thing of some sort, you couldn't quite make out what it was and parked on the side of the road, getting his food ready in front of him.

He bit into his cheese thing while you sipped on your coffee conversing with the chat. Just earlier you had begged for music suggestions, telling them to send their best road trip songs. Charlie looked really good right now, his hair was pulled together in a bun and he was wearing a blue shirt. You on the other hand had your hair in a top bun and the same hoodie from yesterday, a wool blanket draped over your shoulders. You just wanted to ask if you could have a bite, when he got cheese all over his chin. 

He laughed as he looked over to you. Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned forward in your seat. Your face mere inches away from his, you could feel his breath on your face. You stuck out your tongue and licked the cheese away, your eyes never leaving his. 

Without giving it a second thought, you settled back into a comfortable position and took a sip from your coffee with a prominent smirk on your face. Leaving a dumbfounded Charlie and a screaming chat.

Not even an hour later the clip of you licking his chin, in maybe a bit of a too sexual way, went viral in the community.

[blush-and-books]

i’m sorry, but i fell in love tonight

short fic based off of this gifset by @juliesmolinas and the song is there somewhere by halsey. in fact it is mandatory that you listen to the song/read the lyrics/both before/during reading this. yes i said mandatory.

angst with a sappy ending, julie goes through a lifetime of emotions in less than 3k, was originally gonna write when i was in a more emotionally raw state but writing this made me emotionally raw so... enjoy <3

warnings: swearing

Julie made the promise at some point -- she just doesn’t know exactly when.

It may have been when he appeared at her school, all shy smiles and soft glances, professing that she made him a better writer. Or, more definitively, it could have been when she forlornly pulled him into her arms a moment before she was positive that she was to lose him forever. 

All that she knew was her time with Luke was fleeting. So she swore that her butterfly-wing crush was not allowed to fill her chest or dizzy her thoughts; that his lyrics would mean nothing more next to hers than words on a page and his touches would bring her little to no comfort.

Luke Patterson could not complete her. 

The universe wouldn’t allow it -- and neither would Julie Molina. 

But -- either Luke was blissfully unaware of their impending doom or he genuinely didn’t care -- he forced himself through every barrier she attempted to erect. And it was driving her nearly insane, because she made a promise to protect herself. 

Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to do it. Or maybe the universe, despite refusing to give Julie Luke in his entirety, did not want her to be protected. 

It was all in the little things-

When she stayed up with him in the garage, playing him all of the songs he’s missed in 25 years, and he danced around on the slippery floor in his socks and grinned at her with wide green eyes. The neon emerald in the dim light was reminiscent of driving on the highway and passing sign after sign leading to the exits she could have taken, but couldn’t bring herself to.

How New Years Eve arrived and the Molina family gathered in the driveway to light sparklers; Luke’s hand brushing hers as he passed off one of the two in his hands. 

In his head lulling onto her shoulder while she was trying to finish some homework with his help on the torn couch and his lips moving against her bare skin  as he mumbled that she needed to take a break before driving herself insane; followed by her braiding her hair to get it out of her face.

She already had driven herself insane -- but not over her homework. 

(His mouth on her shoulder was the answer to a prayer she never dared to murmur aloud.)

Luke never failed to be present when he was needed. If she was sick or stressed or depressed, he knew when to fuse to her side and when to offer some space. Through careful observation rather than conversation, he knew which of her many sweatshirts were reserved for illness or emotional support. 

In most of those situations, she needed him, too. Her fingernails would curl into his biceps through a cramp or wave of tears and he would wrap her in his embrace and swarm her with warm words that dried her eyes.

She hated it.

When they wrote music, it felt as though they were already reading each other's minds before either of them had spoken a word about their plans. Their journals contained inky black waterfalls spilled from an intimacy that Julie did not want to dissect. 

Again, she hated it. She loved it more than anything and hated that she loved it all -- because it could never be real. 

She would always play second fiddle to death. 

Julie made the promise to herself to not let Luke complete her because, while she had him for now, the night of the Orpheum was a reminder that the universe would not hesitate to snap it’s fingers and eliminate him from existence. 

The universe, being the confusing, stubborn bitch it is, just didn’t get the memo on that promise. 

Because Luke filled every crack and restored every gap in her being, and he shouldn’t.

The hopeless, pining romantic in her that constantly argued with her realist side said they were meant to meet. Even if it was brief and heartbreaking and had the power to hurt her in a way she didn’t understand, it had to happen. If it wasn’t supposed to happen, then how and why did he cross space and time only to fall at her feet?

(Soulmates, a taunting voice whispered. Soulmates.)

((The voice was locked in a closet as punishment.))

She didn’t want to entertain the word. It had too much of a forlorn, wistfully romantic sound to it that Julie didn’t need to associate with Luke when she spent most moments with him at this point convincing herself that she wasn’t in love.

Until tonight.

It is past midnight, which is when anyone’s mental state starts to alter. Things that would be labelled as bad ideas in the daylight could very possibly become fair game when shrouded in a darkness that made everything private. The two of them, Luke and Julie, Julie and Luke, are nestled together on the piano bench as her fingers tiredly press each cut of ivory in a working melody.

“I have an idea,” Luke says, gently shifting his left hand to cover hers on the keys. “Why don’t we press pause on this song for a minute?”

Then, she finally looks up at him. Her eyes probably have crescents like the dark side of the moon crossing her skin, and her hair is all over the place, but he’s staring at her in one of the rare ways that she hates.

She hates it because the look convinces her that she completes him.

This time, however, there’s a hope. A hope, and a hesitance, and she’s simultaneously extremely nervous and beyond curious as to what his plans are. 

“Did- Didn’t you want to finish this tonight?” 

Regret strikes across his face, but he recovers. The softness is back. “Yeah, I just think we need a change of pace.” Right hand on the back of his neck: A telltale sign of a confession of some kind. She’s seen it more times than is healthy. “There was another song I wanted to show you, actually.”

“Oh.” She blinks, he waits. “Yeah, uh, I mean, yeah. Show me. What do you have so far?” He clears his throat as he thrums through the pages to find his target. “The whole thing.”

Julie doesn’t have time to react -- although she’s already in a panic -- before the leather-bound book is being awkwardly shoved into her hands, and the first thing she sees at the top is Luke’s nearly illegible scribble of Dark Room (song for Julie).

“Luke-”

“Just read it.” His voice is significantly raspier than it was a minute ago. “Please.”

She can’t. If he feels the same way and the confession is undeniably in front of her, then what is she supposed to do? Would she rather break Luke’s heart now to save them both down the line, or delay the misery a little longer?

It’s not that she doesn’t want it -- she does. But she doesn’t know if she’s emotionally equipped for any of the options that are offered to her. The destination of any path she chooses leads to a world of heartache.

So, she does the only thing she can think in the moment: She reads the song.

Instantly, the lyrics are blurred from the tears in her eyes because she sees the words “love” and “together” and her greatest fears and grandest wishes are coming true. The sonnet proclaims that she’s his light that illuminated his once-dark forever, and that he was hers when they didn’t even know each other, and that he will be hers wherever he ends up next.

He just wanted her to know that he would have waited another lifetime in the blank, limitless limbo he was in for 25 years if he knew she would be there when he was set free.

And, in the moment, Julie allows herself to acknowledge that her promise is broken.

She’s fallen in love. 

And, apparently, he has too.

(Maybe they can claim just one night. The universe owes them that much, doesn’t it?)

“Julie?” God, he sounds so worried. A shaking finger trails up her jaw to catch falling tears, and his contact makes her gasp. He pulls away and shoves his hands together to fidget in his lap. “Julie, are you- Fuck, I’m sorry, I just fucked this up, didn’t I? I fucked it all up. Fuck, I-”

When she chances a look up at him for the first time in the couple of minutes that she’s been staring, hopelessly, at the song in her lap -- he’s got his face covered by his hands pressing roughly into his eyes, and he’s turned to face the piano instead of her.

He takes a deep breath, and it sounds… 

Stuffy. 

Three more tears leak from Julie’s eyes. More build up every minute as her right hand runs along his shoulder, “Luke…”

“No, Julie, please just drop it.”

“Luke.”

“I clearly misread a lot of stuff, and I’m tired, so maybe you can just go to bed and forget-”

Her hand wraps tightly around his upper arm like it’s done so many times when she has been in distress. “Luke.”

There’s a crack in her voice from sheer desperation. She needs him to look at her, so that she can wipe his tears and smile through the sobs and tell him he didn’t misread a single thing. She would wait a lifetime for him to come out of the dark room, she loves him too, and she’s going to forget all about it. 

And ask him to do the same.

At least the scratch of his name catches his attention long enough, because he angles back towards her, and swallows thickly before meeting her eyes. Salty teardrops linger against his eyelids and eyelashes; the red rimming illuminating the oceanic green to look like a gemstone. Her grip relaxes.

“Yeah, Julie?”

She attempts a smile. “The song is beautiful, Luke. I love it.”

I love you.

“That’s it? It’s beautiful, and you love it, but you don’t… I’m not in your dreambox, huh?”

He clearly hasn’t dug through it in awhile. He’s everywhere. Discarded guitar picks and notes he’s left in her school journals and plenty, plenty of songs.

It’s funny, because she told him her dreambox was for things that didn’t make her sad. Luke was a double-edged sword -- making her happy every day in a new way, and making her cry into her pillow at night.

How does she explain this? There’s a whirlwind of responses running through her brain and she can barely coherently comprehend any of them. 

“No,” she finds herself sighing as she raises her hand to his cheek, followed by her other hand so that he can’t try and turn away. “No, Luke, no… You’re wrong.”

“What do you mean ‘I’m wrong?’”

Her bottom lip starts to shake. “You think I don’t love you back.”  Both of them feel their breath catch at her use of the word out loud. It feels like a secret that shouldn’t be repeated. “And you’re wrong.”

“... I’m wrong.”

“Of course you’re wrong! You really think I don’t love you back?”

“Why are you crying if you love me?”

“Because we can’t do this!”

He scoffs, and Julie’s heart is racing in her chest as he pushes himself off of the piano bench and her hands fall from his face. What has she done?

“That’s bull, Julie.” His fingertips tug at his hair. “You don’t need to make a big dramatic show to convince me it’s wrong just to let me down easy. You aren’t going to talk me out of this.” Dead-on, he stops pacing back and forth, and looks her in the eye. “I love you.”

Listening to him say it, the way his mouth moves and his voice ticks with conviction at each syllable, is what makes her break. 

“And I love you too.” 

He reels back. He probably wasn’t expecting her voice to raise from their odd, in-between whisper and normal volume.

“But don’t you get it? Luke, we aren't in some magical place where we can meet each other in the middle. A place like that doesn’t exist. You’re dead, and I’m alive, and any future here ends with both of us losing each other.” 

“Julie-”

“You said you would wait another lifetime, right?” Using his own lyrics against him. She watches his hands twitch before nodding; the movements of his head barely visible. “Then wait. Another lifetime, another two -- the fucking universe clearly didn’t want us to have this one, so we’re stuck waiting for the next one.”

Even through his clear and fighting need to argue, to talk with her about this, he stiffly nods his head. It’s obvious that she has thought way too much about this from the way she’s barely choking out each word before crumbling into tears before his eyes -- but then again, he’s thought about it too. 

Callused hands are running along her neck to tilt her face up out of the blue. She was too busy crying to notice that he had crossed the distance between them to stand right in front of her and assure that she was meeting his eyes.

“Luke-”

“No, Julie, it’s my turn. Please.”

She won’t argue with him. So, with a tender swipe of his thumbs under her eyes, he proceeds.

“Look, I get it. You think I don’t get it? I fucking hate being dead, for so many reasons, Julie. But if I never died, I never would have met you.” Her lips part, and maybe he thinks she’s going to protest because he smoothly lifts a finger in front of her lips that barely makes contact. 

(Julie almost presses her lips into it.)

“And you’re right. I wish there was somewhere that we could meet in the middle, but we don’t have that. I wish so many things, Julie. But none of them involve a life where I don’t have you.”

She whimpers, because listening to the man that normally chains his emotions in a cage bare his soul to her at nearly one in the morning is a seriously more out-of-body experience than she expected. She knew, deep down, that she loved him. But she never allowed herself to feel the all-encompassing warmth that she feels now.

“But hey, Julie, look at me,” he coaxes her with a tone that drips with affection. The pads of his fingers are nearly kneading into the back of her neck. “Like you said: The universe didn’t want to give us this lifetime. They couldn’t let us have all the fun, right?” Both of them let out a watery chuckle. “But they still brought me to you, didn’t they? They let me know you in this lifetime, even if we couldn’t have forever. I said I would be yours wherever I am. So even if this,” he gestures to his ghostly form, “isn’t forever, even if we don’t have this lifetime… You know I’ll love you forever, right?”

It was a monologue straight from one of her dreams that left her waking up with a manic smile and tears running down her face. 

Unable to form any other response besides an unaware nod, Julie waits for him to continue.

“And maybe, the universe will give us the next lifetime, or a whole new universe, or… Just somewhere where we can get forever.” 

Abruptly, his hands slide from her neck and grasp her hands like he needs to hold on firmly enough to believe that she’s still real in front of him. Julie is still speechless and teary, and in the most sentimental gesture, Luke kisses the back of both of her hands. 

“We’ll get forever, Julie.” His warm breath puffs against her skin. “I promise you.”

And, well, if he promises forever in the next life -- then why can’t she take what she can get in this one?

--

tags: @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @lydias--stiles @moreflowersthanweeds @pink-flame 

[alfredosauce50]

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 11

Wordcount: 5,150 Rating: M for strong language, ideologically sensitive and mature themes, gore “In a society that normalizes cybernetic enhancements, many forget what it is to be human. He never did.” Chapter synopsis: Allen and Arthur race to find you both, but it proves to be harder without knowing your whereabouts. Meanwhile, you've successfully helped Alfred find the chip. Before leaving, you have a long-awaited conversation with your father to realize he's more insane than you thought. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Songs to listen to while you read (in order as found in playlist): Cyberninja,  Trouble finds trouble, Tower Lockdown, Me!Me!Me!, Pt. 2, Him & I (with Halsey), Atlantis. I have indented song titles throughout the chapter so you can change accordingly. Starting now:

Cyberninja

Before Arthur could even buckle himself in, Allen rammed his foot into the gas pedal. He was thrown back in a violent manner, and hit his head against the headrest. But the mechanic never complained. He looked stressed enough as is, continually scanning the road while murmuring to himself as if he’d really gone mad. “Hell, that motherfucker could be anywhere in the whole fucking city right now.” He hissed, pulling out of the driveway and into the main road.

“We can’t call him. Track him. Nothing. Same goes for (F/N). They’re off the map.” Turning to his companion numerous times in distress, he sped through the streets, though he had no particular destination in mind.

The indicator clicked. Allen cursed at the car in front of them, but never made a move to overtake. As Arthur became overwhelmed by these stimulants, he opened his mouth, defeated. “If you’re in such a hurry, why--why bother following traffic rules? You never have before, so why now?” He asked with a shake of the head, earning a loud scoff from the other.

The car windows glowed with a flurry of pinks and purples as they moved closer to the commercial district. They were near their first stop.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t give a damn if I didn’t have to.” The whites of his eyes reflected a mosaic of color as he never looked away from the road. “But that was when I was working for my boss. I had protection. I could do a hit and run if I wanted, and without the running part.” The redhead breathed. Then, he stuck his head out of the window with a huff. Immediately, he was choked by the city smog, and deafened by the blaring of car horns.

“Friggen’ prick...” He flipped off the driver in front of him. Sitting back into his seat, he flashed Arthur a grin, though the man couldn’t return the energy.

“Did you get fired? Or did you quit?” This wasn’t the best time to ask about the past, but he had been dying to know why he wound up half-dead on his doorstep. So what better a time to do it than now?

“I quit.” Allen answered point-blank. “Old man didn’t take it well. Decided to kill me. Didn’t.” Slowing the vehicle, they arrived at a parking-lot surrounded by backdoors of multiple piss-poor establishments. One of which was illuminated by a flickering red neon sign that read ‘no-tell motel’.

“He thinks I’m dead, so the rest of the city has to think that too.”

Arthur gawked at him. “That makes you no better than a fugitive! And it’s not just anybody after you--Allen, he’ll kill you when he finds out you’re still alive!”

“And that’s why he won’t find out.” Tapping the side of his neck for a flap to open, the said man slotted a small disk inside. “Disables cybernetic upgrades in a twenty foot radius. Means I can’t use mine, but it stops other people from figuring out who I am.” He dug through one of the compartments for a muffler, which he wrapped around the bottom half of his face.

What he did next was alarming, however. Sticking his hand further in, he pulled out a gun and cocked it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell are you doing--!?” Arthur exclaimed, fumbling with a face mask Allen tossed his way. He didn’t see a silencer anywhere either. “If I can call the police without any upgrades, so can everyone else!”

His statement couldn’t ring any truer, and yet, it never slowed down the other’s movements as he climbed out of the car. Unsatisfied by his silence, he wound up getting out to follow him. “Oi, say something! At least let me know you’re not gonna shoot up a restaurant!” Whispering that part out, he had to speed up a few steps to catch up with the man, now marching to the backdoor of a motel.

“Put the mask on.” Allen murmured without sparing him a single glance. But he paused briefly to process what he said. “... A motel, you mean. But I’m hoping we won’t have to resort to that.”

Arthur’s eyes went round. “You were considering--”

He could share the desperation to save Alfred’s life, but he had a hard time following how. Shooting up a motel? What was he thinking?

“Yes.” Attaching his hand to the door, it creaked open. Before Allen took another step, he faced him with a serious glower. “Now when we get inside, I want you to walk up to the receptionist. He’s programmed to greet you. Ask him for a room, and while you do, I’ll approach him from behind and deactivate him. Kapeesh?”

But then again, he was in the dark here. Arthur hadn’t the slightest clue on what Alfred’s circumstances were, as mysterious as the man was, so he had no idea how he was on the verge of dying.

So naturally, he wouldn’t know how to save him either.

But he trusted Allen to know what to do.

“... Alright. You better not make me regret this, you tyke.” 

“You can call me anything you want, just not that. I’m not a kid anymore.” Those words would become apparent as they walked inside, where their plan went by without a hitch. They heard the automated voice of superficial kindness, which stopped abruptly to the sound of an android powering off. Its body fell to the ground to reveal Allen standing behind. Without wasting a second, he leaned over and typed furiously on the keyboard of the computer.

Trouble finds trouble

“Lemme see if this has a log of everybody who came by...” A few moments later, he started nodding at what he saw. “Bingo...” On their private encrypted server, stored the history of all the guests who booked a night. “Well, what do you know... Alfred checked out two days ago. But he’s on the move.” Pulling away to stand up straight, he jogged over to the exit.

“Even if someone tried to look for him in one a’ these places, he’d have to get behind the reception and do exactly what I did.” This someone referred to Matsumoto, but death already followed Alfred wherever he went. Not that Alfred knew that. “The perks of a no-tell motel. Even if they reek of piss, so long as there’s crime, they’ll never go out of business.” He beckoned Arthur to follow him with a tilt of the head. 

“One down, twenty-seven more to go. And that’s only in the direction he’s going... And under the assumption he’s only staying at these motels. So, uh, let’s hope he didn’t try to be too unpredictable.” 

The Brit huffed. This wasn’t going to be easy. 

“I think he’d be predictable to do that if you asked me.” He murmured. “But you call the shots. I’ll just be... Moral support.” 

Allen already disappeared out the door, but his head poked into the doorframe at that. “Nah. You have the most important job outta’ the both of us.” 

That was right. He didn’t tell him yet. He really should’ve a while ago, but he got caught up in the chase. 

“Whether you remove a chip from his head or not will determine if he lives or not.” 

Arthur paled. 

“He’s the guy my boss wanted me to kill. Remember the dude I told you about? The one who tried to steal a prototype chip three years ago?” Now that he mentioned it, he recalled the conversation a few weeks ago. But wait a minute. 

The mechanic felt his face scrunch up as he was hit with a major epiphany. That was Alfred? The terrorist Allen had been updating him about? He was the man who tore up three floors of the headquarters of Matsumoto Optics, and simultaneously, the same customer he had been serving for the last few years.

Before he could even process his shock, he was presented with even more appalling information. 

“He stole it this time. That’s what he and (F/N) disappeared to do. But now that it’s in his head, it’ll overwrite his consciousness until he’s a fucking vegetable.” 

Arthur was horrified. “Then why would he even--” 

“Because he doesn’t know.” Allen cut in with a grim expression. “He thought the chip was supposed to give him immortality, so he wanted to keep it from falling into the wrong hands. Like my boss. But no. It’s the opposite. It was all a ploy to kill him.” At this point, the blonde was at loss for words. As a doctor and mechanic, he was quite frankly terrified of how devilishly clever Matsumoto was. But he couldn’t expect any less from him, could he?

They made it back to the car, and he could only stare aimlessly out the windshield, paralyzed. 

“That’s why we need you.” He heard him say. Turning to the man, albeit slowly, he felt a hand slap down on his shoulder. Allen gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re the smartest guy I know, second to my boss. You were always great at fixing stuff. Cars, enhancements, people--so what’s a mixture of all three?”

Arthur dug a hand through his hair stressfully. “... You’re kidding.” And yet, he already knew he was on board. “... Are you calling him a car?” 

The other flattened his lips. “... He technically could be.” 

“Just to be clear, I fucking hate you.” 

Allen laughed. “Sure.”

“But otherwise, we’re wasting time.” He couldn’t believe the words falling from his lips. This was really happening, wasn’t it? After taking him in as an apprentice for his auto shop, the roles were finally reversed. He no longer took charge as the teacher. Or rather, he became the student caught up in the most difficult assignment yet. Having a taste of Allen’s work. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” 

***

Tower Lockdown

You had all the reasons in the world to be anxious coming home. 

On top of worrying over Alfred, who had hundreds of trained assassins coming at him all at once, during every minute of the heist, you had to face an aspect of reality you avoided until now. You were in the building, and he had already stolen the chip. It was slotted comfortably in his head, ready to leave the premises.

 How come your father never appeared? Was he really just going to let you go just like that?

But the real question was this--should you stay or leave? 

Yes, you hardly approved of anything he’d done. Done to the world like Alfred always mentioned, and to Alfred himself. But you weren’t prepared to abandon him yet. He was still your father, and the only family you had. If you had to make a decision, you needed some closure. If not, a discussion. 

And you expected him to give it to you as the least he could do. 

As Alfred stood among a pile of dead bodies bathing in red, his mantis blades trembled against a katana blade. Even with his hands full, he made the time to check on you. “(F/N)! Stay away from walls! Just hang on for a second longer!” He shouted, turning to you briefly before diverting his attention back to his opponent. “We’re nearly home free!” 

Pulling away to give him a swift jab in the chest, blood sprayed onto his face, but he wasn’t fazed.

What did, however, was the sight of you being thrown over the shoulder of one of the bodyguards. Color drained from his face and he burst into a sprint. 

“(F/N)! No!” Watching you disappear into an elevator, he slammed right into the closing metal doors. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist against them to hear a loud bang. Before he could linger too long, he hastily made his way to a door adjacent. The emergency stairs would take a hell lot longer, but as if he’d wait for the elevator to come back down. 

Even if he needed to climb up a hundred flights to get to you, he would--all the way to the penthouse where Matsumoto was. 

When those men approached you, there was no struggle on your end. You knew where they were going to take you. And you wanted them to. It could even be said you were relieved, because that meant your father was thinking of you. After a minute or so, the soft whirring fell silent, followed by a soft ‘ding’. 

They moved outside the elevator, and after a few steps, they set you down on your feet. Right in the middle of your father’s office. At the very end behind a desk sat the man himself, and he was eyeing you with an unreadable expression. Upon returning his stare, came an onslaught of emotions. But the most prominent was incapacitating anxiety.

Even as his daughter, you could never see through him. He was impossible to read. So you had no idea what to expect. 

“Dad... We need to talk.” You began, walking up to him warily. This was what you wished for at the start, cried for, even. To return home. And yet, the nervous pounding in your chest seemed to worsen with every step you took. It was jarring to confront how much had changed since then. So while you barely managed any words, you were already overwhelmed, struggling to choke back tears. 

“For once, I need to know what you’re thinking.” 

He inhaled deeply before responding. “I was under the same impression that we’d have this conversation.” Standing up from his chair, he furrowed his brows at the sight of you clenching the fabric of your pants. “Don’t look so nervous, child. You haven’t done anything to anger or disappoint me.” Reaching out to your head, he settled a hand on it. 

“... Really?” You whispered out. Hearing his assurances calmed you down a touch. But when you saw the forlorn gaze he cast down at you, your heart was crushed. “... Dad?”

Me!Me!Me!, Pt.2

Any existing contempt for him melted away just like that, but you weren’t upset at yourself for it. Your father hardly expressed any emotion besides calm indifference. And when he did, it always felt like the world was ending. 

“I’m the one who deserves your anger.” He clarified, lowering his hands to your shoulders. “I’ve left you by yourself for far too long, (F/N). I hope you don’t hold it against me that you had to come home yourself.” You hung your head, unable to meet his saddened gray eyes. If you were to hold a grudge at him for it, you’d start by avoiding his gaze. “And I understand why you would’ve wanted to help him. He has a way with words, and a naïve sense of justice. But it’s a warped perception of reality.”  

You’d hate to admit it, but no matter how cruel he seemed to be, there was a method to his madness. 

And you were perhaps the only person in the world to know it. 

That was why you were so torn. Torn between hating him and understanding him. After all, you couldn’t have both. “You can’t blame him after what you did to him.” Glancing up at that, you felt bile rise in your throat. Then, your vision blurred. “I don’t know what you’re aiming for--for this company, and this world. But you can’t expect him to accept this world you created when you stole him from his. He had a life!” 

Staring at him through hot tears, he breathed out a soft sigh before rubbing them away with a swipe of the thumb. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness. And I won’t expect you to forgive me even after telling you the reasons for my actions.”  

He pulled away from you to begin walking back to his desk, but not to sit down. Instead, he stood by the window to watch the blinking lights of skyscrapers and small moving dots of cars on the streets. “In a society that normalizes cybernetic enhancements, many forget what it is to be human. He never did. So of course, he would reject the idea of immortality. The destruction of the most human quality there is.” 

He paused briefly to scan the landscape.

“Mortality. One’s inevitable end gives everything they do meaning.” 

Wrinkles creased between your brows. It was confusing to hear him speak so highly of death, frustrating, even. Wasn’t he the one investing billions into correcting it like a flaw? “If that’s what you really think, then why? Why would you make something that would take that all away?” 

He held his hands behind his back. “To serve the greater good. A sacrifice, if you will.” The man turned to you, this time with a serious glower. “Alfred thinks I would commercialize it. Sell it to the public. But he’s wrong. Immortality will only be available to the leaders of the world.”

By leaders, you could only assume he meant people like him. Not politicians, but business men and women. Company owners. The most powerful forces of the present. “The inability to die is a curse. You never move on because you’re still breathing. But that may be just what the world needs. Stagnation. An absence of change.” 

It was daunting to know this man was your father. You couldn’t say you were born with half as many of these attributes he had. Intelligence was easily passed down, but there was something else written in his genes you could never dream of having. “With every passing year, decade, and century, humanity frays like a rope. Society continues to deteriorate... All until self-destruction becomes a matter of time.” Facing the window again, he scanned the impressive architecture he was proud to call his own. And it looked as pristine as it did yesterday. 

“The only way to stop this was to take control of it myself. And that’s how I came to found this company. I’ve found a way to govern the people. To invest in science as the world’s last and only hope. But it’s a job that will last eons, so I was prepared to do it until the end of time.” 

He was right in saying that society was inevitably doomed with the direction it was heading. That technology was the only solution, along with a world government. Matsumoto Optics. A cosmocracy with jurisdiction over the whole planet. There would be no wars. No conflict. And with only one state to call the shots, things could be done so much faster on a global scale. 

It was a radical concept to grasp, but you couldn’t say there was no logic to it. “Alfred was meant to do it with me. To reincarnate again and again as my closest aide on my quest to preserve the world. But he ended up being the opposite. My foil.” Matsumoto shook his head. “Alfred is a nostalgic soul. He’s too attached to the past. But the way of the old can never last with how fast it makes the world burn. Even if he realized that, he would want to exact revenge on me after what I’ve done to him.” 

“So before he destroys everything I’ve created, I have to destroy him first.” 

Him & I (with Halsey)

You tensed up all over, but before you could ask him what he meant by destroy, the doors burst open. The very subject of the conversation had appeared, and just in time for the conclusion of it. His arrival caught you completely off guard, successfully derailing your train of thought, but your father merely acknowledged his arrival. “Ah. Speak of the devil.” 

“Speak for yourself, you fucking demon.” He spat, marching over to your side to pull you into his chest. Immediately putting his hands all over your face, he was riddled with concern as he inspected you. “You okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time. What are you still doing here? C’mon, let’s go.” While he reached down to your hand to lead you away, you stayed put. 

As relieved as you were to see him here, you couldn’t follow him out yet. You gave his hand a squeeze, then a soft smile of reassurance. Then, you turned to your father. 

This time, you held him in a firm stare. 

“Even if everyone thinks you’re crazy, I always knew you’d have some kind of justification for everything.” You started. Little did you know, you would take back this statement in the very near future. “But I can’t forgive you for what you did to Alfred. He never ended up doing anything you wanted him to, so giving him all those adjustments was pointless for you. But not for him. If you wanted to get rid of him, it wouldn't be easy.”

Matsumoto closed his eyes as if to agree. That was what you interpreted it as, at least. But unbeknownst to you, he was doing anything but. “I wouldn’t know what’s best for this world.” 

“But what I do know is that I won’t let you hurt him.” 

You spoke those words with a conviction so strong, Alfred’s eyes widened when he heard it. It wasn’t news you cared deeply for him, but to hear you say it to your father like that, and Matsumoto, no less, it made his mechanical heart pound more than he could fathom. You were actively disobeying him, a man you previously revolved your life around, for his sake. To say he was infatuated would be an understatement. 

You felt his grip on you tighten. 

“Say what you will, and I’ll respect your conviction. But I will come for him.” The bearded man murmured in a foreboding tone. A sinister light glinted in his dark gray irises. “And in the most unexpected way he could ever imagine. You will never want to see me again when that happens.” 

“If.” Your voice was a little strained. As much as you wanted to hate him and move on, you couldn’t. Every single fiber of your being was urging you to find a reason, any reason, to not despise the man who raised you. “If, dad. Because if you did, I really will never forgive you. I’ll hate you forever.” 

A grim expression contorted at his face. In his many decades on the planet, he’d never felt more dread. But one had to wonder if that was the right word. The regret had already arrived, because he’d already done something unforgivable. It was only a matter of time before you’d find out. “I’ve already done something to earn your unconditional hatred, child.” 

That was right. He’d killed Allen, your best friend and only other semblance of family in your life. And perhaps, the person you held the closest to your heart. “Soon, you will learn what it is. So I’ll let you leave today because you will never want to come back. I’d imagine that to be more… Convenient for you.” 

It was only your ignorance that blessed him this last moment. The last moment where you’d see him as your father with eyes unclouded by hatred. But it was short-lived. 

It didn’t take long for you to put two and two together, and in your short silence, you came to remember someone that had been gone for a while. Allen. 

Atlantis

You woke up in a cold sweat. For just one measly second as you oriented yourself, you weren’t tortured by a fury. Betrayal. Disgust. But it all came rushing back to you like the memories of that Godforsaken day you met with your father.

Sitting up with a deep frown, you felt heat build up around your face. It would be etched in your mind forever. The memory of Allen laying in the dump. Tossed out like a broken toy. Then, the stench of blood and rust as he was left for dead. 

You always knew your father was mad, but he kept on surprising you with how mad he was. Turning to the figure beside you, tears only overwhelmed your waterline to see his chest rise and fall steadily. 

He was still here. Alive and well. You could only hope the same for Allen.

It had been ten days since the heist. There hadn’t been a single sign of Matsumoto or his men, meaning Alfred really did do his research on the best places to hide. Climbing onto his form, you wound up laying on his chest. Then, you peered down at his sleeping face. 

As you got comfortable, you felt a smile creep onto your lips. If the you from a few months ago saw what you were doing, she’d be flabbergasted. Since when did you like him this much? 

Your cheeks grew a little rosy as you became self-aware of the position you were in. Full-on embarrassment hit you when he began to stir, but before you could get off of him, his eyes fluttered open. Uh oh. Now this warranted an explanation. 

For a second, he was confused, but when he saw that it was just you, he grinned lazily. “Morning, babe. Care to tell me why you’re not sleeping on your side of the bed?” 

He’d totally cornered you. And did he just call you babe? “Um... I, well... I woke up on you, so don’t get the wrong idea. I was just about to get off.” Sliding yourself off of him at that, you tried your damndest to simmer down. But he never gave you the chance. Rolling over to face you, he pulled you in around your waist much to your surprise. “Hey!” 

You never got around to pointing out that pet name, either. 

He caught you in a serious stare. “Don’t be so shy. We’re close, aren’t we?” Alfred was never one to beat around the bush. You knew that better than anyone, but that didn’t mean you were used to it. Lowering your head at that, you fixated on his chest. 

“... I guess so. That doesn’t mean I can sleep on you like that, though. And plus, it must’ve been uncomfortable.” 

“Nah. You’re light as hell.” He hummed. Sitting up with you on his lap, his statement became more apparent in how effortless he made it seem. “You’re like a few grapes, really. So don’t worry about it.” 

Why he chose to focus on that part of your argument was beyond you. Did he really not see anything wrong with what you were doing? Or maybe he did, and didn’t want to mention it. He’d been hugging you a lot lately the past week, but that wasn’t as deserving of your attention as spooning you while he slept. 

Wasn’t he pushing the envelope? It would make sense he was just trying to comfort you after your run-in with your father, and your discovery that he was the one who attempted to off your best friend. But wasn’t this a bit much? 

He wrapped his arms around your neck. There was nothing between you both, and yet, he was holding you like there was. Like you were his. 

"...” It was in his smile. It was different to how he always looked at you, as if there was finally something behind those electric blue irises. Something alive. Something hot. As you played around with the idea, you lit up like a Christmas tree and pushed his mouth away. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

Almost as if he read your mind, he relented. But only reluctantly. Picking you up from under your arms, he set you onto the mattress so he could get out of bed. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he gave your cheek an affectionate pinch. “Whatever you say. I’ll be back after a piss.” 

When he left the room, you were left to your own devices. As you brought your knees to your chest, you came to realize how tight it was. He’d only left for a few seconds, and you were already waiting for him to return. It was ridiculous to think about, but it was almost as if you missed him. Already.

Did spending all this time with him give you some kind of separation anxiety? 

Or was it something more? 

You couldn’t tell. 

The fact that he mentioned ‘I’ll be back’ suggested he was aware of your attachment to him. You buried your face into your knees. 

Turns out, you weren’t the only one having a hard time processing your feelings. 

When he disappeared into the bathroom, he pressed his back against the wall. Reaching up to his chest, he scrunched up a part of his shirt as the pounding in his heart subsided--his metaphorical one. Alfred didn’t think it was weird to find you on top of him like that, let alone dislike it. In fact, he loved it. It gave him a shred of hope that maybe, you did like him the way he liked you. 

But that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t be with you. 

This was the fifth motel he’d been to after the heist. There was no saying he’d be dead by the end of the day. Not when your father was after his head. So he wasn’t about to start anything. That would be too selfish, even for him--though one had to wonder if ‘selfish’ could even describe him anymore. He was anything but. At least, for you he wasn’t. 

Alfred would only be proven right when he took a step towards the toilet. His vision started to glitch. Then, he lost his balance, falling over the sink and slamming his head against the mirror. “Fuck--!” Stumbling back onto his feet, he was engulfed in black for a few seconds. What the hell was going on? 

His bout of disorientation lasted for far too long to be normal.

Before he would start accepting the prospect of going blind, his vision returned. He thought he would celebrate that moment, but he forgot what he was even fussing about. What happened? Lowering his gaze to his hands, he stared at them for a while before looking back up. What was he doing here? Where was he? 

That was right. He was in a motel. With you. Running away from uncertain death. It took a minute or so to recall all of these things, and that was what alarmed him. It seemed like his body wasn’t accepting the chip very well. 

Temporary memory loss and blindness was just apart of the transition, right? 

Little did he know, it was anything but. 

Outside that very district sat two men in a car. Bags hung under their dull eyes as they scanned the streets as vigilantly as their sleep deprivation let them. It had been two days since they slept, but they wouldn’t rest until they found him. There were only four days until the damage was done.

If they didn’t get to the man before then, he would be as good as dead. 

[starforgednegativespace]

Part One: Animus

I had been on Animus less than a stellar day and already felt like I'd been gargling with lava. Even within the relative shelter of Rampart, the planet-side mining complex where I'd come to meet my contact, the air was barely breathable. Decades of disrepair had left the air scrubbers barely functioning; apparently the locals were used to it, but even the recycled air on Rune Song tasted how I imagine a cool summer breeze would taste by comparison.

In the warm rain, Rampart's wide streets, asphalt peppered with sickly coloured dust, shone under flickering neon lights from overhanging signs for drug bars, pubs and brothels; everything a miner risking their lives and health could want. I walked through the darkening streets, hands jammed firmly in the pockets of my deep red flight suit, one hand gripping the barely functioning bolt pistol in my left pocket, concealed under the bulk of my belt pouches and rain-slicked overcoat. I was tired. Being a spacer, you have to deal with local times being different in settlements than the ship time your body gets used to, and right now I should've been wrapped up in my bunk aboard Rune Song letting the Six-Ten-Ten handle things, but instead I had planet under my feet and an early evening appointment I had no right to be keeping to keep. I stifled a yawn, pushed my rain-soaked mauve hair back from my face with my free hand, and pushed open the door of Kenji's saloon.

The saloon air was warm and smelled like stale liquor and just the faintest hint of the pervasive toxicity of Animus. Behind the bar, a bent-out-of-shape old timer with sharp, angular features and a bad prosthetic arm was pouring liquor for grim faced miners, while a couple of disinterested looking girls wearing revealing outfits which showed the toxic scarring on their thighs and collars pulled silver from eager locals for games of Traust. Some patrons gave me a quick look, and few looked long as I entered, turning back to their drinks and gambling, muttered conversations lost under the distorted electronic jazz sputtering from the jukebox in the corner. I opened my jacket, shook some rainwater from it, and scanned the room. Over in the opposite corner from the jukebox, sitting alone with a pair of drinks, was Shepherd. She nodded, full lips curling slightly into what you'd charitably call a smile, motioning for me to go over. I scanned the room again; none of the people here looked like Ikaro's goons, and none of them had the air of mercenaries about them. My grip on the bolt pistol relaxed, and I headed to her table, dropping into the worn synthetic-leather booth opposite her.

"Kiri Quint, in the flesh" she purred, raising a slightly grubby glass to me. "How long's it been?"

"Too long, Shepherd" I replied, courteous as I could muster, and reached for the second glass. Her hand slapped mine away. "Sorry, I assumed..."

"The good liquor doesn't come cheap round these parts," she shot back. "I'm sure Kenji has some forge-spawn piss the locals love so much with your name on it." She motioned to the bartender, then pointed to me. The bartender nodded and started pouring what I assumed was some cheap local faux-liquor into a plastic tumbler. Shepherd smiled that tight, half smile again. "It's on me."

"Still a saint, huh Shep?" I pulled the hip flask from my inner pocket, unscrewed it and took a pull of the burning liquor within. Shepherd's eyes narrowed. I offered her the flask. "This is the good stuff."

Shepherd declined the flask with a wave of an immaculately manicured hand.

"No offence, Cutter, but I don't know where you've been"

The bartender, Kenji I assume, brought the dirty plastic tumbler over, dropped it in front of me and grunted, eyes giving me the once over. He glanced at Shepherd like he was waiting to be dismissed, then slinked away when she continued to ignore him. I picked up the tumbler and sniffed it.

"Smells like hydraulic fluid. You trying to poison me, Shep?"

I forced a laugh, took a sip and grimaced.

"Always willing to try new things, huh?" Shep smirked and sipped her drink, long lashes fluttering slightly over the glass as her eyes stayed on me. I exhaled, stifled another yawn, and looked around the dingy tavern. I motioned with my finger.

"This yours?"

"Mostly. I have a controlling stake in operations on Rampart. With that comes, I guess you could call it a stewardship of the local entertainment. It's a symbiotic relationship."

"Oh, I get it, you pay the miners salaries then take it back through whatever means necessary?"

She smirked again.

"Pretty much, yes."

I took another sip from the dirty cup of cheap synthesized booze and fished around in one of the many pockets of my flight suit until I found the crumpled pack of nic-rods. I put it to my mouth and Shepherd, right on cue, was there with a light for me.

"Thanks." I blew stale smoke to the side. The nic-rods were old, and I barely smoked unless I was very, very tense; and right now I was just that. Shepherd had that way about her. Always had, even back when she was calling herself Hal and sporting a man's body.

"You're welcome. I know yours isn't working."

Rust-dammit

"You heard about that?"

Shit. Shit shit shit. If Shepherd knew, then that meant Ikaro probably knew, and if Ikaro knew...

"I like to keep tabs on my favourite Spacers. I have to admit, I was impressed when I heard our little Cutter was Ironsworn now." She put her drink down and lit a nic-rod of her own, blowing sweet-smelling smoke towards me. "Relax, Kiri. She doesn't know. Vlada Ikaro and I are no longer associates."

Associate was one way of putting it. Executive assistant to a blood-thirsty warlord was a more accurate description.

"Nobody leaves Ikaro" I said flatly. My hand slipped back into my pocket to make sure the gun was still there, my instinct to get up and run from this place was overwhelming. Cut and run at the first sign of trouble, like I always did. That's why they called me Cutter back then.

"You did. I never got the chance to tell you how much it amused me to learn that you took her cargo. Her ship too. The sheer audacity of it."

"I earned Rune Song."

"I'm sure you did. For what it's worth, Vlada and I parted company on rather better terms. We came to an amicable agreement."

"How much of your share in Rampart does she get?"

That was maybe too far. Shepherd sucked her teeth and put her glass down. Guess I hit a nerve. But my point still stood. Nobody leaves Ikaro. Not really. "Look, I was surprised to hear from you. I had no idea you were even in this sector, having a Herald track me down came as kind of a shock, not least of all because this whole set up seems a little unglamorous for your tastes."

She seemed to loosen up a little.

"You'd be surprised; far end of town there are some really rather lovely subterranean apartments. Clean air, access to all the best shipments, the works. And far less getting my hands dirty in the process than organising wet-work for Vlada Ikaro. No, I do well here."

"Here's to moving on." I raised my cup and drained it. "Now, why don't you tell me why you asked me here?"

Shepherd raised her glass, took a sip, and stubbed the half-smoked nic-rod out in a copper ashtray.

"I need a courier. Someone capable"

I narrowed my eyes

"You have silver to pay for Heralds who can track me down, why not use one of them?"

She smiled that slight, tight smile again.

"The Heralds share information. I need someone who can afford to be more discreet. Someone who would get the job done no matter what..." Wait for it...  "Someone Ironsworn."

There it was

"Why all the secrecy, Shep? What's the job?"

Shepherd's eyes lit up like she couldn't wait to tell me some wild secret. She leaned in close, so close I could smell the expensive booze on her breath.

"You want to know why I picked this world to settle on? Why someone like me would choose to cool their heels in a rusty mining colony on a toxic shithole like Animus?" I nodded. " Let me ask you this, Kiri, when you were landing here, did your nav-com take you on an unusual trajectory?"

"Yeah, I figured atmospheric disturbances or something. It's not uncommon for a world like this"

"No. Port control have orders to steer ships away from a particular region of near space. You see, up there..." she pointed upwards. "Orbiting right above our heads, just out of atmo... is a fucking precursor vault."

By Iron, I swore. I unscrewed the cap of my hip flask and took a long pull. Precursor vaults were scattered throughout The Forge; unimaginably ancient relics from a long-dead race of technologically advanced beings who once ruled this region of space. Rumours of tombs filled with relics of incredible power and technology were common among spacers. Some people thought they were myths, but those people had never flown the drift and seen the horrors of the forge up close.

"What's the job?"

"I need you to take some cargo to Paradox Station at Hera, I have a contact there who'll give you the co-ordinates to a deep-space research station where the cargo goes. A simple delivery job with a stop-over, but it's long distance and I need someone I can trust and someone with an Eidolon Drive. And if I recall, Rune Song is equipped with such a drive..."

I nodded again and stubbed the nic rod out.

"That kind of distance is gonna cost, Shep. At least -"

"Twenty thousand silver, ten up front, ten on completion."

Twenty thousand silver was a lot of money for a simple cargo run. More than double what I was going to ask, and what I was going to ask was double what the job was worth. There was a lot I didn't trust about this whole situation, but Rune Song needed repairs and I was down to my last few silver. Shit, it was worth it.

"What's the cargo?" I asked.

[beauregard-s]

Verdigris | Bill Denbrough

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader (18 yo in this one)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: language, mild hate-to-love trope and mentions of cheating and toxic relationship

A/n: ‘The one with Baseball Player!Bill and the song Verdigris by Gus Dapperton’

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He can’t stop watching you. 

At the bowling alley on a Friday night. Your arms crossed, a hidden smile on as one of your friends rolls the ball and misses the pins miserably. You probably had a night off, or else you’d be at the arcade trying to tame the thirteen-year-olds that keep fighting over the Pac-Man machine. 

Bill can’t stop staring and it’s annoying beyond belief.

“For fuck’s sake, Bill! Are you playing or not?”

He’s forced to drag his attention away from you under Richie’s hiss only to perceive how everybody is staring at him - except for Ben checking on his shoelaces after tripping on them at least twice already. The looks range from Richie’s pissed one, to Mike, Beverly, and Eddie’s confusion, and laying on Stan’s impassivity.

“I just puh-played two rounds ago, Richie, stop m-mah-messing the order,” he complains, yes, but stepping up and grabbing himself a ball is the same as calling his own bullshit.

His move is absent anyway, only hits three pins because he backs off as soon as the ball leaves his fingers, making room for Ben to go next. Standing more in the back so he can turn his head in your lane’s direction again, all the way across the alley.

Only in time to watch you striking for the second time that night.

Only in time to catch how your eyes automatically fly in his direction right after that.

It’s quick, just a few seconds before you turn away again like at school two - or three? - weeks before, when you shouted out loud in a hallway about how you were cheated on, a thing many girls would hide, never talk about and pray for it to never come up. But you didn’t. When Henry Bowers leaned by your locker and probably tried to slide in some smug explanation, you shut the metal door so loud people around turned their heads and others who didn’t hear it from the first time caught on what was happening as soon as you told him to go ‘get his dick wet with Anna Thompson from now on’.

That being said you stormed out, and your eyes met his because he was frozen in a trance not perceiving at first he was blocking your way.

He couldn’t call you a bully, but nor could he call you an angel. You were Bowers’ girlfriend for quite a while, never messed with him but was never smooth either. You always stood neutral about Bowers tormenting him, almost bored, he noticed. Maybe uncomfortable with the situation if he overthought on that?

Never mattered. Bill recognizes he doesn’t know much about you, never got interested in doing so. Never needed to. You are just y/n, Henry Bowers’ blessed girl - because, thinking about it, yes, someone must be somehow holy to endure that one. Y/n, who he thought that barely minded him but still locked eyes and seemed to flash him a very inconspicuous smile that brought him back to Earth and made him move aside to let you walk into your 6th period class.

Y/n that since then started to hover above him like a little bird of prey, keeping those secretly mischievous eyes on him whenever they shared the room. Driving him insanely curious to find out what all of this is about.

“I swear to God, Big Bill!” Richie cries out in frustration, clapping his hands together in a desperate try to get his attention, “it’s your turn again!”

***

“Homealone again?” Stan asks while buckling up on the driver's seat after leaving the alley almost forcefully when the place closed, Mike’s horn breaking the late-night silence as he leaves to take Ben and Bev home.

“Yeah, for the weekend.” Bill sighs, sinking into the seat and smirking. “Why? Wanna throw a p-party?”

Stan snorts in the dark, turning the keys for the headlights to break through the darkness ahead. “Not after the last one,” he starts the car and leaves while Bill recalls the last party they went to. The party where around 1 am everybody started gossiping about how someone entered a room without knocking and... 

“Y/n l/n, then?”

Bill moves uncomfortably. Of course, the party where everybody found out you were cheated on before you could do it yourself. Stan Uris really sees everything, knows everything, and perceives everything. And also have the gift of smoothly leading people into the point he wants to get to.

“I don’t think so,” Bill says. 

Stan swirls the steering wheel to the left into a quiet street, suffocating another laugh. “So you’re telling me you were not perving on her the whole night.”

“I wasn’t p-puh-p-perving!”

“No!” Stan’s laugh finally comes filled up with irony. “At the bowling alley, at school, whenever she shows up during practices and her great presence disturbs you to the point you miss the pitches… Since she broke up with Bowers, whenever she’s around your mind goes wasted”. Bill grimaces and he goes on. “And judging by tonight, she seems to be at the same place as you are.”

“She’s not at the same p-place as I am because I’m not at any p-place, Stan.” Bill sticks his arm out of the window into the cold breeze, feeling something boiling inside him. That annoyance again. “She’s been teasing me since she broke up with her dear b-boyfriend, it’s all.”

Stan slows down at a crossing, making a snap noise with his tongue. “How convenient, no?” Bill scowls, eyes off the road to look up at his slightly raised brows, and he goes on, “Bowers’ girl gets cheated on and then starts flirting with you, Bill Denbrough. The guy who had his lip split open by those fists more times than we could actually remember.”

“Tell me about it…” Bill’s voice barely comes out as he watches the stores slowly turning into houses with dark windows and faded front porches, trying to smother that burning feeling inside. 

“And you’re playing her game,” Stan adds calmly.

Bill snaps his neck towards the driver's seat again but Stan only shows that same impassivity from earlier, eyes solely on the road. “Don’t tell me you’re not, because you are. I saw it tonight. Besides it, we all know you’re that sucker for unbecoming stuff.”

Bill shakes his head, gnawing on his cheek in bitterness as the car stops in front of a two-floor house and Stan turns the keys, sending them into silence and darkness again, turning on his seat to face a skeptical Bill unclasping his seatbelt harshly.

“I am not. I wanna f-find out what game is she p-playing b-but I’m not playing it myself.”

“Okay,” Stan taps onto the wheel, grinning in his disbelief because he knows Bill well enough to know he may sound like he has his foot down when he’s in fact as unsteady as sand. “But she could put you in big shit trouble, you know?”

Bill gets out of the car, leaning into the window as soon as he closes the door, drawing a cockish grin. “Yeah b-but, again, I’m not playing her game, Stan.”

He assured himself that, even though his mind wanders towards you until he goes to sleep and even though you remain there when he wakes up Saturday morning. 

He’s not playing your game.

But you’ve been testing his limits, slowly getting under his skin somehow with so little effort. Catching his attention when he doesn’t want to give it to you. You’re guaranteed trouble and he hates how you leave him restless whenever you are out of his sight and trouble his mind whenever you are both sharing space.

But he’s not playing your game.

Yet he still finds himself waiting outside the arcade later at night, at a discreet distance with his hands tucked in his jacket’s pockets to keep them from freezing under the fall weather. Bill watches you leading the last kids outta the place, promising an upset little guy they’ll be open early the next day too and turning the sign hanging on the glass door as soon as they leave to warn everyone the place is finally closed. The sweet way you talked to the kid doesn’t match the troublemaker image he painted of you in his mind throughout the day.

He’s not playing the game, but he’s ending it before he goes insane. Being a chess piece is not on his plans. He doesn’t know where you’re going with all of that so he walks into the store, immediately catching your attention.

You’re checking and closing the cashier when the noise makes you look up from behind the counter only to find the surprisingly-not-so-popular pitcher of the Derry High School’s baseball team standing there in between the flashing machines. 

“Hey there, Denbrough,” you say softly, bringing your attention back to the dollar bills. “We’re closed.”

He taps his foot, trying to find the words to say what he wants to say because even though he planned talking to you the whole day, suddenly he feels lost and vulnerable under that nonchalant way of yours. 

“I know, I didn’t come to play.” Bill feels proud of how steady he sounds although he’s clenching his hidden fists. He has the slight impression you are not as confused as you seem when you eye him again. This time deeper. 

“How can I help you then?” 

He thought he had a solid plan, but he doesn’t at all. All he can think of is how did Bowers get you? A straight A’s girl with such sweet talk, pretty face, and bold demeanors. 

“You can help me by stopping m-messing around.” There goes his steadiness through the window, every single drop of it when your lips give him a lopsided smile, closing the cashier and pulling a bunch of keys out of a drawer.

“And what do you mean by messing around?” you walk around the counter and passing by him because even though Bill Denbrough is standing in front of you straight out of a dream in his stupid letterman jacket, a robbery wouldn’t be welcome and you gotta lock the doors and close the curtains. That blocks all the light from the outside, sending both of you into a gloom only lightened by the neon lights around. 

“I mean all the flirting you’re doing.” His voice deepens a tone. “ I want you to stop it.”

He looks adorably anxious, of course. All fidgety when he’s trying to confront you that way but flinching when you turn on your heels to face him, his hands still in his pockets for what? Hide his nervous manners?

Not that you’re that secure yourself with your sped up heart. You wish you had pockets too so you could hide how you poke a cuticle on your thumb.

“I’m not flirting with you,” you say simply. “I know you’d like that, but-“

“You wish, l/n” he hisses and you know you’ve hit a weak spot. Also not that you didn’t know said weak spot exists.

“I know what you’re doing, and I’m not getting in trouble for it.” Bill steps closer, letting his sweaty hands finally fall to his sides. 

“Again, I’m not the one messing around” You see his jaw clench, and go on leaning back against the Donkey Kong machine. “You are.”

Bill snorts and the way he runs his fingers through his auburn hair messing it in frustration makes things to you. Yes, Bill Denbrough in his lettermen jacket is stupid… stupidly hot, even if you hate admitting that.

“I’m n-not-“

“Are you sure?” You defy him, resting your hands on the machine and accidentally hitting the joystick. “So you’re telling me you’ve not been leering me around, casually hanging out with your friends by my locker or… Following my ex-boyfriend around to make sure he’s not coming close to me, Bill?”

Touché. 

You never called him ‘Bill’ before, but thought it would match the soft-turn your voice takes and the little ‘got you’ move you just made. Bill thinks it raises a level. He said he didn’t come to play, but it feels like he did and now he’s losing because you know something you shouldn’t. 

You know last Tuesday he followed Patrick Hockstetter’s car because he saw them harassing you when you were walking home after school. He watched when they pulled over by the sidewalk, Bowers leaning out through the window and saying something that made you argue with him for a while before you kept walking and they drove out. Bill should’ve turned right and drive home, but he turned left and followed them instead, made sure they went home and not after you. 

“I was just trying to m-muh-make sure you were safe,” he reasons but inside he’s recognizing his failure.

Maybe you’ll call him a creeper for that? No, you just bat your eyelashes.

“You really have an unforgiving hero complex.”

“I don’t have a hero complex.”

He does. And maybe an unforgiving crush too because he realizes you’re not the one hovering here. He is. He always thought he never paid attention to you but he did all the time in the deep of his head, dreary by the fact that you ended up with someone like that disgusting jerk.

“A hero complex and a huge neglect towards yourself, apparently” you bicker, the changes in his mind showing briefly in his expression.

“Okay, I m-may be the one m-messing around but you don’t seem like you’re trying to run from it.”

The others have already warned Bill about that, his lack of fear and his broken anti dumbness filter, mainly Beverly, but there he is again. Making dangerous, uncalculated moves, totally improvising his next step to avoid a checkmate from you.

He’s kinda angry, maybe embarrassed, eyes locked on your as he comes closer. You don’t answer because he got a point. From the moment you noticed Bill paying more attention to you after you were publicly free from Henry, you never intended on cutting him off. You fed the fire and now, with his eyes so deep in yours and the smell of his cologne all around you, you let him taste a bit of power to decrease that embarrassment of his. 

“Are you trying to imply that I want you too?” You whisper, no need to talk louder with his chest an inch from yours like that. 

He likes how beautiful you look like that, face shining in verdigris tones flashing from the next machine, the way it turns you into neon pink and back to the blueish-green. He likes how daring you look even if he’s towering over you, inches taller, little knowing how you’re putting on a fight to keep yourself solid and your thoughts in place. Without much success when he leans in and brushes his chapped lips along your soft ones.

“Again, you wish, l/n.”

The previous moves were yours but in a turn, you’re the one getting the final checkmate when you give in and pull him into a kiss. A greedy and heated kiss that showed how you’ve been craving each other. Bill presses against you as he’s trying to challenge the laws of physics, his tongue licking into your mouth as your hands clutch on his thick jacket, feeling his broad shoulders underneath. His hands cup your face, his thumbs gently tracing up your cheekbones in contrast to how roughly his lips take yours, only for a moment before his arms embrace your waist and he smugly slides a large hand into your jeans’ pockets.

He swore himself he wouldn’t play your game, but he feels like he did and just lost it when he leaves your lips and trails the tip of his nose down your neck, feeling how you softly quiver in his arms, breathing in your perfume. Pulling away before everything goes to waste.

“As I said, totally n-not running away from me,” he mutters, leaving you. 

You shake your head slowly, a mazy little smile glued on your lips. “Screw you, Denbrough…” But the words drip out like honey to him as he walks backwards towards the door. 

Bill turns the keys still in the lock behind his back, flashing a cocky grin at you as he pushes the door open. He feels defeated, you do too but somehow none of you regret what just happened in the empty arcade. He can see you don't by the way you look at him as he leaves. It’s not just one of those glances anymore.

He feels defeated, but maybe it will be worth it.

“S-see you later, y/n.”

[orangepanic]

I saw this “100 OTP questions” by @the-moon-dust-writings and figured I'd procrastinate:

1. Who loves flower crowns more?

Neither of them really, but Asami might make Iroh wear one just to laugh at him.

2. Who is the one who likes to cuddle?

Iroh. Asami likes it, too, but he usually initiates.

3. Who has awful taste in music?

Honestly, both of them. Asami likes terrible dance music and Iroh likes obscure combinations of horns and bells and stuff from different cultures.

4. Who is the meme lover?

Asami thinks they’re funny. Iroh doesn’t quite understand.

5. How did their second date go?

Iroh tried to take Asami somewhere very fancy, but the wait was too long. They ended up making out in a shadowy doorway down the street and missing their reservation entirely. Iroh was mortified, but Asami dragged him around the corner to a low-key noodle shop that has since become their favorite restaurant.

6. How many children do they want/have?

Asami thinks about three. Iroh, as many as Asami will agree to.

7. Who hides the weapons?

Iroh hides weapons for Asami around the house so she’ll always have something on hand. In a drawer in the kitchen, on her nightstand, etc. He knows she can take care of herself… and he stashes weapons for her anyway. Asami rolls her eyes but secretly thinks it’s sweet.

8. Who is the better dancer?

Asami. She likes dancing, and learned formal dancing in school. Iroh can’t dance at all, having skipped out on all his lessons as a child after bribing his instructor. He thought dancing is boring, but likes dancing with Asami and lets her lead.

9. Do/Did they have a theme wedding?

No. They quite deliberately have a very normal wedding, including cutting out a lot of the more stuffy Fire Nation customs because Iroh doesn’t want Asami to feel out of place not having any family present.

10. What do their parents think of them dating?

Hiroshi Sato is livid, and actually tried to have Iroh assassinated from prison. His little girl, marry a firebender? A prince of the firebenders? Iroh’s parents are more accepting. Izumi initially thinks Asami is too young and gives Iroh a hard time about how quickly he got serious, but quickly comes around when it’s clear Asami is very mature for her age. Within a year Iroh’s parents are both hounding him on when he’ll make it official.

11. Are they a super sappy couple?

They are that couple everybody hates.

12. How did they get together?

They meet during the Equalist revolution, but don’t get together until long after. Iroh has a crush on Asami almost immediately, but spends forever sitting on it thinking it wasn’t the right time and trying to be friends until one day he just kind of slips up and kisses her. She kisses him back. It turns out Asami liked him, too, but she isn’t great at reading people and had no idea he was interested.

13. Who asked the other to get married?

Iroh just kind of blurts it out one day.

14. Who stays up too late and makes stupid jokes?

Asami is the night owl. Iroh makes the bad jokes.

15. Who is the nerd?

Oh my god, both of them. Asami is more of the classic nerd. Iroh is more of a dork.

16. Who knows the most obscure facts?

Iroh.

17. Who makes the other a flower crown?

Two questions about flower crowns out of 100?? Changing this to who is more dominant in bed. Asami.

18. Who likes to read?

Iroh. They both do, but he’s much more into it.

19. Who bothers the other person while the other person reads?

Asami. She has the shorter attention span.

20. Who tutors the other?

They both would in different subjects. Asami is better at math, physics, etc. Iroh is better at philosophy and languages.

21. Do they have similar taste in movies?

No. Asami likes gory slasher films and lots of action. Iroh scoffs and thinks they’re dumb. Asami, in turn, thinks his period dramas can be kind of boring, and refuses to count documentaries as movies. But there’s a healthy overlap in things like Vikings and Game of Thrones.

22. How do their personalities complement each other?

Asami helps Iroh lighten up a bit, drawing him out of his shell, and gives him an anchor and a sense of home. She’s more social than he is, and a lot of her friends eventually become his. But she’s also quiet enough and serious enough that she doesn’t tire him out and can feed his need for downtime. Iroh, in turn, loves seldom but deeply, and gives Asami the kind of fierce, unconditional love and stability she needs. He’s also genuinely interested in her projects, is smart enough to follow most of it, and is one of the only people who can occasionally beat her in Pai Sho. They have a lot of fun together just being nerds.

23. How do they tell everyone that they are going to be having a kid/adopting a child soon?

They don’t have to tell anybody. It’s all over Iroh’s face like a big neon sign.

24. Who has better fashion sense?

Asami, but not by much. She’s more up to date with trends, while Iroh’s style is clean and classic.

25. Who will punch someone out if they are rude to their partner?

Hoo boy, both of them. Do not go there.

26. What songs do they sing together in the vehicle?

Neither of them sing in the satomobile. Iroh has a decent voice, but he’s a bit private about it. Asami mostly hums.

27. What other couple would your otp get along with?

Iroh quickly becomes BFFs with Bolin. Asami and Opal aren’t quite as close, but they like each other’s company and have fun as a foursome. They also get along quite well with Pema and Tenzin.

28. Who likes to prank the other?

Iroh tries more often. Asami’s pranks are more successful.

29. Who is the one who loves to take pictures?

Iroh, though generally Korra is the picture taker in the group.

30. How would they react if they found out they were soul mates?

Iroh raises an eyebrow. “Hmm.” Asami only shrugs. They both already knew that.

31. Where would they live?

They like Republic City and decide to stay downtown, first in an apartment and eventually a larger townhouse.

32. What type of dragon would they own, if they could have one?

Whichever one Iroh made friends with. Asami is a bit wary of animals and would need him to convince her it was safe.

33. If they were both vampires, what type of vampires would they be?

The kind that live in a beautiful house with perfect collections that took hundreds of years to make. Iroh has first editions of everything in a giant library, arranged in a complex system only he understands. He’s working on his 14th language. Asami has invented artificial blood and doesn’t miss sunburns. Occasionally she’ll throw one of those big fancy vampire balls just so they can both get dressed up. They’re pretty happy.

34. What would they dress up as, for Halloween?

They once went as Lady Tienhai and the last king of Mo Ce because picking something obscure and historical was the only way to get Iroh into a costume.

35. Can they name each other’s favourite food?

Kind of. They are both really into food, so picking a favorite is hard. But if the question is can they order for one another, absolutely.

36. Do they have pet names for one another?

Asami sometimes calls Iroh “General Hotstuff” when she’s teasing. Iroh sometimes calls Asami “sex pretzel” when he’s 1000% sure they are alone.

37. How do they cheer each other up?

Asami is more of a gift giver. She’ll show up with Iroh’s favorite take-out or make him something in her workshop—anything to make him feel special and valued. Iroh is all about quality time, and will swing by Asami’s office to haul her out on surprise dates. He also gives great hugs.

38. Do they show a lot of PDA?

No. Iroh is very uncomfortable with PDA, especially when he’s in uniform. Asami follows his lead.

39. How old were they when they got together?

Asami was 19-20, Iroh 24-25.

40. Who is the one that would bring the puppy home?

Iroh, 100%. He’s such a sucker.

41. Can they do yoga couple’s poses?

Yes, though Asami is the only one who really tries.

42. What is their song?

They don’t really have one.

43. What does their room look like?

Asami moved in with Iroh, so it’s very basic. White walls, perfectly made bed, a neatly organized desk in the far corner by the window. He’s a total minimalist, having spent most of his adult life on a ship. Asami added a very fluffy comforter in *gasp* a color and lots of pillows.

44. Who would be the one to kill zombies while the other keeps them grounded?

They’d take turns, and at some point Asami would turn it into a contest.

45. Who makes the other breakfast in bed?

Iroh. Asami is a terrible cook.

46. Who loves kids more?

Iroh.

47. Do either of them have a crazy ex?

Not crazy, but Iroh and his ex are not on good terms. He doesn’t like to talk about it.

48. What are their favourite colours?

Asami, purple. Iroh, black. He gets annoyed when people get him so much red stuff.

49. Who likes to cook?

Iroh. He fired Asami from the kitchen, something they are both grateful for.

50. Who is the forgetful one?

Asami.

51. Does either of them know how to fight?

Have you met these people?

52. What do they do for Valentines Day?

Iroh would probably plan something elaborate for them to go out. Asami would plan something sexy for when they got home.

53. Who swears more?

Asami, at least out loud. Iroh mostly swears under his breath.

54. Who has the better comebacks?

Asami. It’s not even close.

55. Who would start a fight with another parent at a bake sale?

Probably Asami, unless it was about the kids. If anyone comes for Iroh’s kids, they’d better hide.

56. Who reads buzzfeed?

Asami.

57. Who is the hopeless romantic?

Iroh, hands down.

58. Do either of them know how to do a handstand?

Asami can manage it.

59. Who can rap better?

Asami, though Iroh is the only one who actually listens to rap.

60. Do either of them want to go sky diving?

Asami would love to. Iroh laughs. “Been there.”

61. What do they usually text about?

Some version of “I miss you” or random pictures of stuff. They generally only text when Iroh is away as they’re both busy during the day.

62. Who is the dramatic one?

Asami has a shorter fuse. Iroh is more ridiculous when he loses his shit.

63. Is either one confrontational?

Not really.

64. What is their favourite cuddle position?

Asami will lay on top of Iroh on the couch like a sandwich. It’s the only position she seems to be able to nap in.

65. Who are their favourite musical artist(s)?”

See above about terrible taste in music.

66. What are their parenting styles?

Iroh covers a lot of the basics. He sets a schedule, makes lunches, tells bedtime stories, is more likely to help with the homework. Asami is the one who gets them around and does most of the interacting with teachers, other parents, etc. They share things fairly equally.

67. Who would be the more laid back one?

Iroh.

68. Who listens to more vulgar music?

Asami.

69. Do either of them have secrets even the other doesn’t know?

Yes. Asami can be secretive about some of her projects, both out of an abundance of caution but also because she likes a big reveal. Iroh keeps some past relationship stuff close, and will occasionally read a steamy romance novel for “tips.”

70. Who is their go to couple for a double date?

Bolin and Opal

71. Do they tip the waiter/waitress on their date?

Iroh tips very well.

72. How do they work out a fight?

Asami yells. Iroh yells back. One of them storms off. The other one waits about half an hour then goes to find them, usually with an offering of food. There are hugs. Somebody cries. Then they finally talk it out before falling asleep together.

73. Who brings home an illegal pet?

Asami. She is less likely to have a pet, but if she does, it’s going to be a weird one.

74. What side of the bed do each of them sleep on?

Iroh is on the side by the window because he likes to get up with the sun.

75. What is their favorite photo of them two together?

There’s a photo Korra took at the beach where Iroh has Asami thrown over his shoulder right before dunking her in the water. This is the picture he takes with him when he’s deployed.

76. Who takes longer in the bathroom?

Asami.

77. Who has more songs on their ipod?

Iroh. If you can call them songs.

78. What movie did they first see together?

Iroh took her to Last Days of the Sun Warriors. She fell asleep. He said the book was better.

79. What do they like to see each other in?

Asami thinks Iroh’s butt looks great in jeans. Iroh got Asami a red silk robe from the Fire Nation and likes to see it fall off.

80. Who makes jokes during inappropriate times?

Iroh.

81. At what age do they discuss the possibility of children?

Mid-20s, though they don’t have them until a little later.

82. What do they love about each other the most?

Iroh likes that Asami is tough and smart and a problem-solver. Asami likes that Iroh is kind and brave and has a strong moral compass.

83. Who is the one that sees the big picture, while the other focus’s on the small details?

They are both big picture people, which is sometimes a problem. Of the two, Asami is probably better at details, but she’s also forgetful.

84. What would they write on their partner’s social media’s for their anniversary?

Asami would probably put up a picture of them and say something brief but sweet. Iroh doesn’t really understand social media and would just paste a heart-eyes emoji.

85. Who is bad at math?

Iroh. He’s not bad, per se, but Asami is very, very good.

86. Who googles everything?

Asami.

87. Who does stuff on impulse?

Both of them in different ways. Asami is generally more flexible. Iroh usually has a plan but makes big decisions completely off the cuff.

88. How do they comfort each other when they are helpless to do anything about the situation?

Lots of physical touch. Iroh will kind of just wrap himself around her in one giant, whole body hug. Asami will spend some time cursing out whomever is causing the issue, then let him lay his head in her lap and give Iroh a good head scratch or massage.

89. What is an inside joke they have?

There was one time they had sex in Asami’s office at Future Industries, so occasionally she’ll drop things like, “feel like coming by the office?” with a suggestive eyebrow waggle. Iroh is, predictably, very embarrassed. Also interested.

90. Who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all?

Asami: *exists* Iroh: *smiles*

91. What is their favourite holiday?

New Years is a big deal in the Fire Nation. Iroh loves his family and likes going home, and Asami has grown to love it almost as much.

92. Who is the one that is calm and collected while the other is angry and destructive?

They take turns. Both of them can have quite a temper when pushed too hard.

93. What is their favourite board game to play?

They’re both big Pai Sho fans, but can get into any kind of strategy game. Nobody really likes to play them though, they're too good.

94. Who accidentally sets something on fire?

Asami. Iroh hasn’t had a fire accident since he was four.

95. Who has the car ready while the other is robbing the store?

Asami. She’d rob the store, too, but no way is she letting Iroh drive.

96. What artist/group did they go to for their first concert?

Iroh booked a private box at the Republic City Opera, thinking that was an impressive thing he should do on a date. It turns out neither of them like opera, and by the end they were both making fun of it.

97. Who sleep talks?

Asami. Iroh thinks it’s funny.

98. Who is the more social one?

Asami, by a long shot.

99. What are their karaoke songs?

Neither of them would really sing karaoke, but Iroh cannot hold his liquor like at all so if he ever got really plastered Asami might be able to drag him up there. By which point he’d be too far gone to have an opinion on the song and would sing just about anything.

100. Who would get up on stage and make a fool of themselves just to make the other laugh?

Asami.

[kyber-kisses]

Hymn (Part 5)

Winchester Brothers x Sister!reader (Platonic)

Warnings: descriptions of violence and blood

Summary: Y/N Winchester has wrestled with demons ever since her mother died, but when her younger brothers lives are in danger it’s their souls she fights to save, because isn’t that what a big sister should do?  

A/n: Heyyy, I'm sorry this took so long to get out. Writers block is a bitch, anyways I hope you enjoy this chapter and please tell me what you thought!( Gif made by Gaywitchtwins)

It was a week later when you felt the first pull. A familiar feeling that started in the cradles of your boots and traveled up your legs, nudging you in a direction.

She wants me to keep moving, You thought. Even though Manah controlled you like a puppet there were instances she loosened her hold on you. You were still a person after all, and is she wanted you to work properly that meant giving you time to eat and sleep.She was mainly in control when you fought, but other than that you mostly had control over yourself.

Looking up from the already cooling cup of coffee wrapped in your hands, you let your pupils scan over the diner. It hadn’t taken long to find a place to stop when you had hit the outskirts of Kansas City. Outside the old sign of the diner swung slightly in the breeze, it’s paint mostly chipped away as rain ran off in sheets. The inside was as weathered as the sign too— torn vinyl on the seats, the air greasy in your lungs. You didn’t care though, it was these types of places that reminded you of a feeling of home. Playing tic tac toe on the paper place mats with Sam and Dean, dipping fries into milkshakes. Innocent things like that.

Everything you no longer were.

“You been on the road awhile?”

The voice seemly came out of nowhere to you, instantly snapping you out of your gaze as you looked up.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The waitress smiled. The kind of smile that was sincere and not sinister. “I said, have you been on the road awhile?”

“Just a week. But it’s flown by.” You shrugged lightly, fiddling with the handle of the mug in front of you.

“What’s got you travelin?” She asked. She had a deep voice, rich as a cup of melted butter, dark skin, topaz eyes.

“Family. Haven’t seen them in awhile.”

You watched as she attempted to read your facial expression before letting out a light laugh. “Have fun with that. Family can be complicated. Doesn’t look like your looking forward to it.”

“You could say that again.”

The waitress let out a light sigh, spinning the pen in her hand. “Well, can I get you anything else before you head out? Maybe some actual food and not just coffee?”

“I’m good, but thank you.” You smiled, fishing out a few bills and handing them to her before grabbing your backpack that had been sitting between your feet. The longer you stayed in one place the tighter the hold on you became. Better to leave now.

As you stepped out onto the gravel of the parking lot, rain soaking you instantly, you felt your hand move towards the charm hanging around your neck, wanting nothing more than to tug on it, but you stopped half way. Each attempt at trying to pull the damn thing off only left you with blistering skin on your palm.

Your feet were moving before your mind was and as you made your way down the side of the two lane road your mind went back to the last conversation you had with the demon who had power over you.

“Tell me, Do you enjoy games, Y/N?”

Game? Manah didnt do games. She was organized chaos. She had a specific order to things. Games weren’t her type.

“Games? What the hell are you talking about?” You questioned, hands clenching around the straps of your backpack as you stood on the deck of the old railroad yard the demon called her home. Any second now she would take her hold on you and like so many times before you would become an obedient attack dog.

“Just to spice things up, let’s say you and I have a little game.”

“What type of game?”

“Well, seeing as they are your family-“ the demon began, dragging a manicured nail across your cheek. “I’ thought I would have some fun with you.”

“Why?”

“I’m getting to that darling.” She sighed. “I’ll give you two weeks. Two weeks to find your brothers and end them. . .or ill send someone else to do it.”

Find them? When it came to stuff like this she always gave you somewhere to go. Now she was giving you nothing. Fear rippled through you as your hands white knuckled the straps. “Why?”

And then, like so many times before- Manahs hand came up to grip your face harshly. “Because they are your family and I know you. You are going to try and fight this. You’re defiant by nature.”

Everything inside you wanted to head butt the bitch right off the deck but you stood stoic, glaring her down. “Alright, you gonna tell me where I can find my dear brothers?”

“Not this time. I’ll give you. . . Let’s call it a homing device. Like a bird, you’ll know your direction. It’ll be up to you to find your way.”

“Like a map?”

“No, like instinct. No way to know how far. You just have to go.”

“That’s not fair! Two weeks? They could be anywhere in the US—“

A soft breeze shifted through her red hair, her gloved hands going back into the pockets of her black coat. “Then you best start moving. The clocks ticking.”

The weight of the weapons in your pack shifted as you forcefully tightened your straps, heading towards the road with a growl. It was only when you reached the steps of the deck did you pause and turn around. “Why are you playing this morbid game with me?”

Manah only smiled, red lips twisting wickedly. “Your a hunter aren’t you? This is what your good at.” She paused. “I’m going to break you Y/N, whether that be by you killing your brothers or watching someone else do it. It will happen.”

A shudder ran up your spine at the memory, the only thing to pull you out of it being the sound of a Bus tires hitting one of the deep puddles in the road before coming to halt at the bus-stop you found yourself at. The greyhound was driven by an older man singing a blues song in a gravelly voice as he opened the door. He stopped mid chorus to ask where you were headed.

“Lawrence.” You handed a over fistful of bills. He took a long look at you, and then at the backpack. “Now that’s a whole lot more than you need to give, young lady. Tell you what.” He sorted through the bills and change. “This much’ll take you as far as you need to go, and if you settle in back, I’ll turn the heat up for you.”

It was at times like these that you were reminded that there were still good people in the world. It wasn’t all demons and monsters. Manah may have raised you in chaos but you still knew good from bad. Once you had given him a sincere thank you bumped your way down the empty bus towards the back, collapsing tiredly into the back row of empty seats.

Your feet were pulling you towards home. . . And you had no idea what you would find.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Dean let out a deep sigh as he flexed his hands against the steering wheel, peering out of the front window of the impala at the parking lot.

“Dean?”

“Why did I drive us here? Seriously, this has to be more stupid than going back to Lawrence to see Y/Ns grave.” Dean snapped. He wished he had never brought up that reoccurring nightmare, had never thought twice about you. It was like he liked drowning in grief.

“You okay?”

The older Winchester huffed, flexing his fingers again. Sometimes he hated you more than anyone else he knew. Hated you for being selfish, for running out that damn motel door, for not thinking about what it would be like for him and Sam if something happened to you, leaving them behind. Or worse, for thinking about it and not caring.

Instead of giving his brother an actual answer, Dean kicked open his door and stepped out into the mostly empty parking lot before taking a few steps and coming to a stop besides the other person with them.

“You okay, Mom?”

There was a pause before Mary slowly nodded, bringing her hand down from her mouth. “This is- this is where she-“

“Disappeared? Yeah.”

The place was practically the same. The neon sign of the motel flickered every few seconds, and the hum of several air conditioning units filled the night air along with crickets. Though his mothers eyes were fixed on the trees just beyond the asphalt, Dean turned his head to look back over his shoulder at the motel. The red paint on the door of room 16 was beginning to flake off with age, the lights off and quiet.

“It’s messed up.” Dean began. “Messed up that I’ve stopped here more than I have in Lawrence.”

“Why?”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looked down at his boots. “I think a small part of me always held out hope. That maybe I would show up here and she would come walking back out of those woods. . . God, I’m such a child.”

Mary let out a sigh, ignoring the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. “Dean, she had you and Sam, she’d raised you traveling with the idea that she would always be there, and suddenly she wasn’t. You can’t blame yourself for having a little bit of hope.”

The hunter nodded solemnly, eyes still on his shoes. He felt like he was twelve years old again, standing on the stoop of the motel room with your gun in his hands, listening to you scream.

He quickly shook it off though. He had had decades to mourn your death, to mom it was still fresh- and she was holding herself together better than him.

“You and Sam never gave me a full explanation of what happened though-“ Mary started. She didn’t want to poke but it was her daughter who was gone and she wanted the story.

“Mom, I’m not sure Dean wants to-“

“It’s fine, Sam.” Dean sighed, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “What do you want to know?”

And that’s how Dean found himself launching into the fucking nightmare of a memory for what felt like the millionth time. It hurt more this time though because he could see that his mom was trying hard not to cry, and he had to remind himself that he hadn’t just lost a sister, she had lost a daughter. . . And now she was outliving her.

“The only thing dad came back with was her flannel. It was practically in ribbons and soaked with blood.” Dean breathed, his voice cracking at the next words. “I was twelve years old when I watched my sister run out that door to her death.” He jabbed a finger at the door behind them like it was the one to blame for you leaving.

There were still so many things running through his head as he suddenly spun and headed back towards the car, anger beginning to rise once more like earlier. What had killed you? Why didn't Dad put more effort into avenging you like he had with mom? Why didn't the Darkness bring you back along with her? Why did you have to die? 

Mary made a move to go after him but Sam clamped a hand down on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t try. Each time we've stopped here he only leaves angry and in a wreck. It’s like talking to a brick wall.”

She paused before nodding. “I think this place has taken its toll on all of us right now. How bout we go home?”

“Sounds good.”

As the remaining Winchesters made their way back to the car, Dean paused at his door, his hand tightly gripping the handle as he cast his gaze towards the woods just beyond reach, as if answers might lie in the shadows. But there was nothing.

Sliding into the drivers seat, Dean stuck the key into the ignition. Home. He just wanted to go home. No more trips into the past.

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[imsofthelp]

Category: fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 2,414

Summary: After a bad breakup, you find yourself in the embrace of your best friend and things escalate quickly after that. 

Your phone was ringing again. This would’ve been the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. You chose to ignore it, not even checking who it was, because you were sure that it was your ex disturbing you at such an ungodly hour.

You opened your eyes, lids as heavy as bags full of rocks. Sunshine shone as bright as ever but even brighter than other days while the constant breeze was just perfect and kept it from getting too hot. Even the birds outside were chirping, reminding you that they existed at 5am. It seemed like the day was going to be perfect.

It took ten seconds, if not less, for that bubble to be blown. The sudden headache was terrible and your shirt was still wet from tears, meaning you fell asleep for half an hour at best, probably not even for that long.

A shiver ran up your spine - even on a warm morning like this one you needed a blanket to feel comfortable.

You almost gave in to the wish to stay in bed for a whole day, doing absolutely nothing except watching some stupid reality TV and gobbling down whole tub of ice cream. But you decided against that.

You were broken in every possible way after your breakup. You screamed, you doubted your decision, you got drunk and then cried some more.

You couldn’t let yourself be like that cliche heartbroken TV show character anymore. Four days in a row of crying enough to fill rivers and eating enough ice cream to last a whole decade. Today was the day you ended that self-loathing cycle.

Warmed by the sunlight which slipped into your bedroom through the big glass windows without any curtains, your feet touch the floor.

You tried to reassure yourself that everything was going to be fine but as soon as you stepped the first step, your feet landed on a dirty lid of ice cream tub. Cussing out loudly, you hopped to the bathroom like you were playing classes or hopscotch.

After discarding your ice cream and tear stained pyjamas into an already full laundry basket, you relaxed into the bath. Setting the water temperature just right instantly made you feel better.

Warm water released the tension from your muscles and left you feeling so relaxed. You lay there for what felt like hours until a different ringtone was coming from your bedroom.

With a towel around your naked form, you made your way to the phone being careful not to step on any more lids.

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen flashing with the name “ALIEN QUEEN xoxo” and picture of your best friend smiling widely while showing peace signs with both hands.

Without hesitation, you picked up.

“You finally picked up!” screamed Mina and you had to move phone a few inches from your ear, afraid that it will make you deaf.

Mina definitely had no such thing as inside voice, “I was scared!”

Oh, so that was the person that was calling you. Well, you were dumb to except your ex to actually give a fuck about you.

Hearing the tone of her voice full of worry made guilt shoot up your body. You could bet your ass that there were like 20 missed calls from her.

Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you listened to her ranting and scolding you like a child. You paced a few steps forward and back. To this day you couldn’t figure out why you couldn’t just sit still while speaking on your phone. It was truly a mystery that science couldn’t explain.

“Are you even listening to me?” Mina asks after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, I’m just...” you swallowed, breath hitching in your throat,

“My emotions are still all over the place” you explain, now observing your reflection in a dirty spoon you found on the table.

“You okay?” she asks with concern clear in her voice.

“I’ll be fine. Finally took a shower to not to look like a hot pile of trash anymore.”

Mina laughs and you feel a smile creeping up your face.

“Still hot, though,” she teases, “You wanna come to my place, watch a bunch of shitty movies and finally get over that asshole?” You can hear her smile and unintentionally smile wider yourself.

An answer leaves your lips way before you think through with it:

“Hell yeah!”

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

Neon red lights in Mina’s living room casted weird shadows on the bright pink walls, making you even more dizzy than you already were.

Loud music was blasting while you swung your hips and moved your free hand (the other one was busied by a champagne glass) to the rhythm as the lyrics were blurring in your mind.

In the neon red light Mina looked like death, or, more like, deathly stunning. From the way she danced so passionately to the music, how her free hand constantly buried itself in her soft pink hair and to the way that her sparkly mini-dress hugged her toned yet soft body.

Hell, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol messing with your head or the pain of broken heart that was begging to be healed by anyone. You really weren’t that against anyone being that hot.

Mina grinned, white pearly teeth hugged by plush, glossy lips. Her eyes were half-lidded as her hand reached out to you, as if she was trying to pull you into her with some invisible power.

You felt like a mortal about to be seduced by a goddess.

“Dance with me?”

Maybe it was her invisible power, because soon your hands were on her waist with her own resting on your neck. One hand was running up and down your back as you both struggled to spin to the rhythm of the fast song.

You leaned closer to her, laying your head on her shoulder. Her hot breath burned like fire against your skin, sending shivers up and down your body.

She smelled like vanilla and fancy perfume and you felt as if you had been spellbound, closing your eyes and letting the moment carry you away.

Songs changed but two of you stayed in the same position. It was only your hand constantly reaching to touch her hair and Mina giggling from time to time, whispering words that you couldn't quite catch.

This was probably very wrong. Not the dancing, no, you were best friends but the thoughts you were having about Mina were wrong. Blaming the alcohol for mixing up your thoughts and your mental state after the breakup, you closed your eyes. Letting the music carry you. Letting yourself have no thoughts even if it was just for a second.

“Hey,” you raised your head, Mina gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face. She paused for a moment as if she wanted to do something more with her half-lidded mascara smudged eyes. You couldn’t read her expression, “Want to watch a movie?”

You didn’t really want that, but you hoped that after sitting down for awhile you‘d feel better. Or at least get these inappropriate thoughts that were clouding everything out of your head.

The neon lights were turned off as if that the party was over, and Mina turned on some channel on her huge tv. You weren't surprised about pricy, fancy stuff around her place anymore as she assured you that 'Hero work pays.'

“What do you want to watch?" you asked, trying to find a comfortable position on her bright pink sofa, littered with what seemed like at least a hundred pillows.

Mina mindlessly flipped through the channels with apathetic look painted on her face.

Then, she stopped.

"Oh, 'There's Something About Mary' is on!" Mina turns to you with a smile as bright as always on her face, "Have you ever seen it?"

You nodded of course. It was one of those rom-coms that was on tv quite often that you liked. You found the story of a hopeless geek still pining after his high school crush, funny and it was a good laugh from time to time.

"Great, then let's watch it!"

You were about fifteen minutes into the movie when Mina began to wriggle closer to you.

"Mind me?" she asked, as she delicately laid her head on your lap.

You felt your breath hitch again in your throat, swallowing, to not let your voice waver.

"No, no," you stuttered out, "Not at all."

She flashed you one of those dazzling smiles and went back to watching the movie.

You tried not to be so tense, but it was as if your body didn't want to listen to your commands.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even realise the ending credits playing.

"You know, I really don't like that plot about many guys pinning after one girl," Mina began, mindessly playing with the hem of your shirt, "But there's one quote in there that is basically my life motto, 'Who needs him? I’ve got a vibrator!'" she said those words with such enthusiasm, that you couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah."

You could almost ignore her slender fingers flushed against your hot skin. God, was it always so hot in this room?

It was so silent for a moment. You could hear your own heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Then she leaned closer. It seemed that she wanted to tell you something, a secret that was so sacred, that only you were allowed to know. As if curiosity got the better of you, you leaned in, forgetting the quote 'curiosity killed the cat', and then realised hat you were fully ready to endure that secret, as one would endure the pleasure of cold ice cream on a cold summer day.

Lips danced plush against each other, teeth clacking at the raw, sudden contact. You cought Mina's eyes widening, as if she wasn't expecting your response to this kiss.

All you could taste was mint gum. The smell of vanilla was so close, too. Not close enough.

Pushed by blinding desire and alcohol, your hands cupped her soft face, one running down her soft cheeks, not believing the texture as silky as that could be of someone's face and another found its way to her hair, pulling her even closer.

Colors and hues of emotions danced inside you, blue for the color of her dress and the sadness of your own mixed thoughts, yellow for the lingering smell of vanilla and your worry and red for the passion and that dangerous neon hue. That was her — stunning and absolutely deathly.

The need of oxygen made you pull away, only for a moment to catch a few deep breaths. Then you were grabbing her face again, pulling her in, feeling her already bruised lips with her own.

Mina moaned into the kiss, and after hesitating for a moment but getting assurance by the sudden soft pull at her hair, she let her hand travel under your shirt.

You let her do that as your own hands were lingering on her defined waist, hugged by the midnight blue mini-dress.

A soft bite to her lip before pulling away and then before you realised it, it turned into a full make out session.

It was perfect at that moment — like a shot out of a movie but then the bubble you were in broke. And you fell.

Mina pulled away, not letting you lean in again as her hands finding their way to her sides, almost shamefully.

A questioning look painted your features. You were confused. It all felt so good, why did you have to stop?

"...This is wrong," she managed to speak out, pushing you away.

You felt something sting inside.

"I don't follow, what do you mean?"

Mina sighed, standing up. It seemed that she wanted to add more distance between the two of you.

"Have you ever dated a girl, Y/N?"

"...No."

"Well, I have. I dated too many straight girls, who were just experimenting for fun. Enough of them. Enough of tearing my own heart out,"

The volume of her voice gradually grew and her hands crossed against her chest.

"But, Mina-"

"You're drunk, Y/N," she answered, not looking at you, "It'll be best if you pick your stuff up and leave."

Your hands were clutched against your chest, heart beating as if it wanted to leave your body.

"Mina..."

You stepped closer and she stepped back, still not looking at you.

Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

"I always felt as if we were connected more than friends and then you started dating guy, after guy, after guy," Mina murmured, almost too quiet to hear, "And my high hopes were stomped. I realised there's no happy endings for girls who fall for straight girls, Y/N. No happy ending for girls like myself."

"It's not like that-"

Tears fell down her face when she finally looked up. Somehow, it hurt more than when she screamed at you.

"Go home, Y/N!"

"We can-"

"Go home, for fuck's sake! You're drunk, go home!"

Everything went fast after that when you let your clouded mind lead you back to your place, back to your bed. You didn't get any sleep that night.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

Ring. Ring. You bit your lip, praying that she would just pick up.

Ring. Ring.

Ring.

You sighed, moving the phone away from your ear, ready to press the red button until you heard a groggy voice.

"Y/N?"

You breathed.

"...Yeah."

You heard her sigh, as you felt your own body tense up.

"What do you want?"

You bit your lip harder, almost drawing blood.

"Come over," your voice almost broke, "Please."

"And then what?.. You want me to tell you that I fell for another straight girl, right into your face? Wanna make tell me that ‘We can still be friends after that make-out session?’ Wanna-"

You didn't let her finish.

"None of that. You'll see."

"Y/N."

"Come over. Would be a pity to ruin a surprise I have for you."

There was silence for a second too long and you wondered if she ended the call.

"...'Kay."

You said your goodbye and threw the phone on the couch. You hoped she liked red roses, chocolate cake and one nervous girl, who thought she was definitely straight, but fell for so strongly for a girl.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

A.n: Sorry for not posting anything in so long. Things have been pretty bad for me lately, but I hope you enjoyed this one-shot. Imma just dedicate it to the girl I have this stupid crush on ^^ 

As always, thanks @velvet-kissesss​ for editing and thank you all for reading!

[hanniiesuckle17]

Do You Trust Me?

A/N: This is to celebrate 1K followers! Thank you so much, guys! Sorry it came so late! Remember requests are OPEN! This is based on the book/film, Nerve. Possibly might make this a series, I don’t know. I haven’t really had a lot of time to write unless you guys send in requests. Then I’ll make fucking time.

WARNINGS: Swearing, some intense themes, partial nudity (but no smut)

Summary: Welcome to NERVE. Are you a Watcher or a Player? Watchers pay to watch and Players play to win. Which will you choose? All you have to do is survive one night of daring acts and win prizes and fame unimaginable. It’s all or nothing. Literally. The next question…are you solo or are you going to pair up?

Genre: Thriller, Non-idol!au, Nerve!au, Action, Dystopian?, Idolxreader

Music blasted through the auditorium. I watched as my group went through choreography on stage. My choreography. This was supposed to be my last project as a senior. I spent hours in the studio coming up with the set only to be kicked out the day before the show.   

My best friend, Jennie, jumped off stage as the music stopped. “Hey, don’t be so bummed. There are plenty of other things you could do tomorrow.” I scoffed and pouted in the faux velvet auditorium chair. “Yeah. What’s better than watching my own choreography I’m not performing.” Jennie aimlessly scrolled through her phone which was always wrapped in that stupid blue rhinestone case. She insisted it went with her style, which was true.

“Well, you could always sign up to be a Watcher. There is a NERVE game in Seoul tomorrow. I already submitted my prelim dare to be a Player. I’m going to ditch curtain call and play.” I shrugged. Jennie was obsessed with NERVE. She dragged me and my other friend, Seungmin, to her house last year to watch the Gangnam rounds. When it was announced the rounds were going to be played in Seoul, she was determined to become a Player. She said it was her path to fame.

“Maybe I should play. Just for fun not for those prizes. They seem like scams.” Jennie let out a bright laugh and smiled at me. “That’s funny, Y/n. You as a Player.” As her laughter died down she returned to her phone.

“What’s so funny about me being a Player? I could do it.”

Jennie dropped her phone into her bag and focused her attention on me. Most boys would be at each other's throats for this much attention from her. They all seemed to love her tiny figure with just enough curves to be flawless. Whereas I could never find the right outfit to hide my lumps but also hug my humps.

“Y/n, you know I love you,” she stated with a gentle smile. “But you can be kind of a pushover sometimes.” A pushover? Is that what everyone thought? “The show is a perfect example.” Did everyone really think of me as this shy doormat? “I just don’t think you have the same guts to pull off some of those dares. They can get dangerous.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Without even thinking about it I grabbed my stuff and ran out of the auditorium. Jennie and I had been friends since we were kids, but it was now clear to me she only thought of me as her little pushover sidekick. I just felt so angry. I sat against the wall of the school and looked up at the setting sun. What time was it?

7:58 pm, my phone read.

Suddenly an ad popped up on my phone since I was still using a VPN on the school wifi. NERVE flashed on my screen in bright neon colors with tempting prizes and a link to the site. I don’t know what compelled me to click the link but suddenly a video with an obviously animatronic voice was playing.

Welcome to NERVE. Are you a Watcher or a Player?

Are you a Watcher or a Player?

Are you a Watcher or a Player?

My finger hovered over Watcher, but then I thought back to Jennie and to events in the past few weeks that made me realize she was right. I was too much of a wallflower to even ask out my dance partner Hyunjin, let alone fight for my own spot in the show.

Without hesitation I pressed Player and a new video started playing with the same voice, only this time showing some weird clips or other players and some online jokes.

You have chosen...Player. NERVE is a direct democracy. Watchers decide your dares.

The two Players with the most Watchers at the end of regulation will advance to the final round, where the winner takes all.

Watchers can watch from anywhere, but they are encouraged to film live. So, don't be alarmed. There are three rules.

1. All dares must be filmed on the Player's phone.

2. There are only two ways to be eliminated: Fail or Bail.

3. Snitches get stitches.

Thank you for keeping NERVE a secret. Good luck Player.

"Well, this isn't shady." Another pop up came onto my home screen. Apparently, NERVE had installed its app onto my phone. A 'yes or no' option popped up that read: Are you ready to accept your first dare?

I pressed 'yes' and quickly filled out the profile information before the app took me to another screen with my dare and a countdown of 25 minutes.

Go to Java House and wait for a boy in a black, yellow, and white flannel shirt and jean jacket. Convince him to buy you a coffee.

When he goes in line, sing loudly and off-key 100 Bottles of Coke on the Wall until he gives it to you. Then dump it over your head.

Reward: $200

"Oh shit. I need a ride." Quickly I called Seungmin hoping he was still inside. Thankfully he answered. "Hey what's up-"

"Seungmin are you done with lights?" "Umm yeah, why?" I quickly told him what happened and hung up the phone waiting for him to come out of the building. The timer on my phone flashed 19 minutes and 23 seconds left.

"You're playing NERVE?" Seungmin yelled at me as he exited the building and we ran to his car. "Yeah, so what. Come on, we have 18 minutes to get to Java House."

The ride to the coffee house was silent. I was honestly glad that Seungmin was coming with me in case this guy I was meeting was a creep. "Why are you doing this again?" Seungmin said keeping his eyes on the road. "I don't know. To prove that I can cause apparently people only like and notice you if you are this confident and daring person."

Another silence momentarily filled the car. "You mean like Jennie?" I shrugged and checked the timer again. "You know I don't think all that stuff matters. I like people who are more soft-spoken, and sweet, and honest, and creative-"

"Seungmin we're here. Stop the car!" I said already taking off my seatbelt. He jerked the car into a parking space, but I was already halfway to the door. A glance at my phone revealed that I had arrived with 2 minutes and 51 seconds to spare. I heaved a sigh of relief and scanned the coffee shop looking for the boy NERVE had described.

"Geez wait for your friend much," Seungmin said coming in behind me. "Sorry, Min. He isn't here yet." Seungmin moved to stand in front of me. "Y/n, what if this dude is a total creep-" "That's why I have you, Seungmin." He mumbled something under his breath but the ringing of the Cafe doorbell sent my attention flying to the entrance.

A gorgeous girl, maybe college-aged, strut through the door. Behind her was a boy about the same age, with dark hair and plump cheeks, but when he turned his head to scan the shop his features immediately became as sharp as a knife. Silver earrings swayed with the movement of his head as a hand ran through his dark locks. My eyes looked down to find him wearing the yellow flannel and jean jacket. Our eyes locked and he smirked eyeing me up and down. He handed the girl his phone and she immediately started recording.

"Seungmin, that's him! Go over there and start recording!" I said shoving my phone into my friend's hands and shoving him to a booth. My hands shook as the handsome boy walked over to me, but I tried to channel how Jennie often looked when talking to guys. I pushed my shoulders back and held his stare hoping that my smile didn't look creepy or deranged.

"Are you Y/n?"

"What's it to you?"

"Well you, hot stuff, are a crucial part of my dare."

"As you are of mine." He chuckled and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Look all you have to do is proclaim out loud what a great lover I am and then let me show my appreciation." I hoped my cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

I looked him up and down and then spared a glance toward the girl filming the two of us. "Fine, but only if you buy me a drink." "Sure." "Iced chai tea latte and quickly.....please." The last part I added as he walked away and he looked back and gave me a small smile. He stepped in line and I shut my eyes and began to sing very loudly.

"100 BOTTLES OF COKE ON THE WALL!

100 BOTTLES OF COKE! YOU TAKE ONE DOWN PASS IT AROUND, 99 BOTTLES OF COKE ON THE WALL!"

I continued to belt the song and I prayed that Flannel Boy would hurry the fuck up before I burst into tears. I could feel everyone's eyes on me. There was something about being the center of attention that just made me uncomfortable. It was different when I was on stage, but here....in real life....it was too much.

"61 BOTTLES OF-" Someone gently tapped my shoulder and I opened my eyes. Flannel Boy stood holding my drink with a gentle smile. His brown eyes had a kind look to them unlike earlier when they were filled with mischief. "One iced chai tea latte for the pretty lady."

I thanked him and without hesitating dumped the cold drink over my head with a small shriek. The liquid soaked my hair and shirt and the ice was painfully cold. I looked up to find him shocked and fighting back a small smile. It was one of those smiles that were out of complete surprise but you knew he wasn't laughing at you.

I heard the entire coffee shop gasp and some laugh and I didn't have to look around to know that at least a third of them had their phones out. It was then I remembered my part of the deal with him.

So as loud as I could I said, "This man is the best lover I have ever had!" A smile came over his face that reached his eyes and a hand came to rest on my waist, brushing up against bare, cold, tea drenched skin.

"Aww thanks, babe." Before I could react, he pressed his lips against mine. His hand came up to my cheek and pushed a strand of wet hair away. I couldn't help but melt. He pulled away leaving only a couple of inches between us.

"I'm Han."

"I'm Y/n."

"Yeah, I know."

"Sorry. The iced tea kind of fried my brain." I said with a nervous chuckle.

He laughed and pulled away further. "Oh, your shirt!" He said looking down and then quickly away. Looking down I saw I had forgotten something very important. I was wearing a white thin crop top with a black bra underneath for everyone in the crowded coffee shop to see. Panicking I crossed my arms over my chest and felt the heat creeping up my cheeks and ears.

"Here." Han swiftly removed his jean jacket and draped it over my shoulders, pulling it to cover my front.

"Han-ah! We got it, let's go." The blonde girl said leaning against a booth. He nodded in her direction before turning back to me. "I think your girlfriend wants you to go."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Oh-"

Without another word, the boy smiled and started towards the door. "Wait!" He turned at my call. "Your jacket?" With a small smile and a hand on the door he said. "Keep it. I'll see you in the Rounds, babe."

With that the two disappeared into the night leaving me standing in the middle of the shop, surrounded by the smell of coffee and something sweet. Maybe mint? Seungmin's voice brought me out of whatever trance I was in. "Y/n, it's 9:45! Isn't your curfew in 15 minutes?"

"Oh fuck!"

The two of us raced to Seungmin's beat-up old car and prayed that the traffic gods were feeling gracious. The minutes ticked closer to 10:00 and I got more and more anxious. If I missed the last night of this punishment caused curfew I would never have another taste of freedom for the rest of my life.

With three minutes to spare I opened my front door to find all but the kitchen lights off. "Y/n?" My mother called out. I sighed and trudged towards my mother's voice. She stood cutting vegetables for tomorrow's dinner. Her hair was neatly pulled up and out of her face, so her stern eyes could focus on the blade in her slender hands.

At some point, I remember wanting to look just like her. Sharp features, slender waist, and small frame. Some part of me still did. The part that hoped one day I would wake up and the fat on my stomach or thighs would disappear and my mother would be proud to say, "Look at my beautiful, daughter."

"Cutting it a little close?" I nodded and set my backpack down on the kitchen table. "There were some problems with sound. They lost our track." She could always tell when I was lying, so I prayed she wasn't doing her fucking C3P0 scanning thing to detect my dishonesty.

She simply nodded and continued chopping vegetables after looking at the time. "Whose jacket is that?" Her usually soft voice had an edge. "Oh, one of the guys spilled coffee all over my shirt and offered it to me." Well....it wasn't a total lie.

A deafening silence followed and I felt awkward standing in the middle of the kitchen. Deciding that two minutes was enough of dead silence and that the conversation was over, I turned over my shoulder and headed for the stairs.

"Y/n?"

"Yes..."

I turned back to find my mother looking at me with a kind smile.

"Thank you for being so patient with the whole curfew situation. You have shown me that you are responsible enough without one." Returning the smile, my tired body climbed the remaining stairs and hopped in the shower. My room was dark and the only light came from my phone, which I put on the nightstand. Crawling under the warm covers I pulled the device from its charger.

Account Deposit: $200.00

With a click, the screen shut off and I lay staring at the ceiling. Tonight was a night I certainly wouldn't forget but had no chance of repeating. I hated to admit it, but Jennie was right. The dare was fun while it lasted, but it wasn't really in my comfort zone.

My mind wandered to Han with his dark hair and lean figure. I wondered where he was. If he was doing another dare just for fun, or at home, going back to a normal life. Just like me.

My eyes closed and a heaviness fell upon them. The warmth of my room and bed surrounded me in a veil of security. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was Han's eyes looking over at me, a smile reaching the corners.

In the darkness, while I slept soundly, a sound was heard. My phone vibrated against the wooden end table as a constant stream of notifications lit up the device.

Saturday. Today was supposed to be the day I performed my choreography in front of a huge audience filled with talent scouts and college recruiters. Sunlight streamed through my curtains hitting my very unawake face.

Run Away by Teen Top started blasting from my phone making me bolt upright. Running a hand through my messy knotted hair I grabbed the phone and cursed whoever was calling me.

Jennie

My hand suddenly felt very heavy and my entire body screamed for me to go back to bed and ignore her call, but I didn't. "Hel-"

"What the fuck, Y/n!"

"Jen, what's up?" I said hoping I wasn't now deaf in my right ear. "What's up? What's up. I'll tell you what's up. The fact that your little prelim dare went viral! What the hell were you thinking!?" My blood ran cold. Frantically I searched for my laptop as Jennie continued to scream at me over the phone.

"WAIT WHAT!"

Stuffing my phone between my cheek and my shoulder I logged onto the NERVE website and the first thing I saw was the leader board. I watched as the Watcher count by my user name skyrocketed into the thousands. Alongside it was a link to my dare. I scanned the leaderboards and no longer saw Jennie's name. She had landed the 8th slot earlier this week and was so proud. My eyes caught on the user in fifth place. Han's picture was placed next to the user @J.One. And just below him in sixth, was me...

"I can't believe you kicked me off the leaderboard!"

"Jennie it was a one-time thing really! I just wanted it to try it. I have no intention of competing in the rounds."

There was silence over the phone. "Are you sure?" Her voice was soft and I could tell she didn't believe me. I repeated myself once more and promised that I wouldn't do another dare. I hoped that set her mind at ease. "Who was that guy anyway?" Her tone was back to normal as if I had never upset her at all.

"I have no clue. His name was Han, though."

I smiled clicking my video. It was weird watching the two of us meet from someone else's point of view. I looked so obviously out of place next to him. "Was he a good kisser at least?" My finger moved over the mouse pad and fast-forwarded to later in the video. I watched as Han smiled and pressed his lips on mine.

"Yeah...he was." I couldn't hide the grin in my voice.

"Well too bad you'll never see him again. He looked way older than us anyway."

Taking a second glance at the screen I couldn't disagree. He was obviously way more experienced than I was. The video was hardcore proof. He definitely was at least a sophomore or junior in college as well. Once again Jennie was right.

"You still coming to the show?" Did I want to? Abso-fucking-lutely not. Was I going to? Yes. I absentmindedly scrolled through the comments at the video while Jennie talked. They ranged from serial killer perverted about my tits and wet t-shirt to angry hat comments for kissing Han, who apparently already had a fan base. The phone call ended and I was about the shut my laptop when the page refreshed with new comments. And at the top was a comment from Hyunjin, the boy who I've had a crush on since freshman year.

Didn't know you had it in you, Y/n! Nice shirt ;)

My face flushed a beet red and a grin spread all the way to my ears. My mother's shrill voice interrupted my daydream of Hyunjin actually liking me back. "Y/n! One hour until we have to leave!" What? Confused I looked at the time. "Oh fuck!" I had slept in until three in the afternoon. I guess all the stress and excitement for yesterday exhausted me more than I thought.

I jumped in the shower and dried my hair as quickly as possible. In record time I applied foundation, contour, and eyeliner before sprinting to my closet. Hyunjin is going to be there. Crap. Clothes flew across the room as I searched for something that would be in any way flattering.

I settled for some black high waisted shorts and a belt with a blue and white vertical striped button-down. Slipping on some simple silver accessories, and a choker, I checked the time. It had been an hour and five minutes. My mom would be storming up here any minute now.

I grabbed some chunky white sneakers and tied them tightly just as my mom burst through the door. "Y/n! Let's go! After I drop you off I have a meeting!" The two of us rushed to the car and hurried to the school. "Are you staying out after?" I nodded and looked out the window. "There is a party at Jennie's house after. If I can't get a ride from Seungmin, Jennie said I could stay over." She nodded and the rest of the ride was silent.

After dropping me off my mom dashed off towards her meeting and would probably end up working late into the night since I was busy. That left me to watch a show that I choreographed and was kicked out of.

By 7:30 the entire event was finished and I had little crescent marks on the palms of my hands. Had I been any stronger my nails would have broken through the skin. I gritted my teeth as I sent my congratulations to all the dancers I saw. I walked backstage in search of Jennie and Seungmin, who was honestly probably hiding from all the commotion.

"Have you seen Jennie?" I asked a passing my sophomore, I think his name was Felix. I remember him doing really well with my choreography. "Uh.....yeah I think she went into the dressing rooms like ten minutes ago." I smiled and congratulated him on a great show. It was quiet backstage. But being alone in a theater was honestly one of my favorite places.

My knuckles gently tapped on the dressing room door before entering. What I saw had me frozen in shock. Jennie had changed out her costume and into a tube top and short skirt. She was also wearing a Hyunjin like a scarf. They hardly even noticed me enter the room too busy with what body part to grope.

"Jennie?"

Tears threatened to fall as the two of them looked up. She didn't even bother to push him away. Out of the two of them, Hyunjin looked the most ashamed which was just a real kick in the metaphorical balls.

"Come on, Y/n. You didn't really think he liked you, right?"

Any normal person would scream at her or slap her or at least get angry with her. But I did none of those things. I simply walked out of the building passing a concerned Seungmin on the way. I ignored him and kept walking looking up at the ceiling, begging for tears not to fall.

Ding

Freezing in the middle of the hall I looked down at my phone to see a notification from NERVE. In the background, I could hear Seungmin catching up to me. With blurry vision, I opened the app.

Congratulations! You have qualified to compete in the live rounds where the prizes are bigger and the stakes are higher!

Do you wish to continue?

My hand hovered over the no button. Subconsciously still willing to follow through with a promise I made to my best friend who was currently giving hickeys to the boy I liked. "Y/n! What's wrong?" Me. I was what's wrong. It was time for a change. It was time to do what I wanted for once.

Just as Seungmin reached my side I pressed the accept button and another creepy video played, welcoming me to the official game.

"Y/n......please tell me you didn't just do that."

The device vibrated in my hand as a new notification popped on the screen. NERVE had sent me my first dare.

Go into the city. 41× ×××××××× Ln.

My heart jumped at the reward. It was two tickets and a backstage pass to my favorite band. I hadn't told anyone I was even looking at tickets! "Seungmin, can you take me into the city?"

His face held disapproval all over it. "Y/n, you cannot play this game! Some kid died two years ago! Don't you remember? Plus no one knows how the game is run. It's across so many separate servers that it's impossible to verify anything. They could suck up all your information they wanted to." I scoffed. "Min that was just some rumor. Also, I'll be careful with what info I give them." Seungmin was the smartest guy I knew, but like me, he played only in his comfort zone. "How far are you going to take this?"

Shrugging, my eyes looked over the almost empty lobby. Everyone had probably already headed over to Jennie's house for the after-party. "If they ask me to do anything uncomfortable or illegal I'll stop. I promise." He sighed and scratched the back of his neck clearly having an internal battle.

"Fine. But I'm sticking by you."

I smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the parking lot. The ignition started and I pressed ‘accept’, starting the timer. "We have 18 minutes to get to this address!" Min glanced at the screen and then pulled out of the lot at high speeds.

The two of us raced down the highway headed towards Seoul. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out the window admiring the Seoul skyline. Something at this moment made me feel so free. The wind blew through my hair and the world looked so big and bright.

We pulled in front of this huge building. The sign obviously stating that it was a haute couture department store. Everything in there was worth probably more than my life three times over.

NERVE congratulated me on the completion of my dare. A confirmation email was sent into my inbox with the ticket order and number. I screamed from delight! Seungmin and I stood outside watching expensive cars and people come down the street.

Ding

Seungmin came around the car to my side. Pulling up the NERVE app I read my next dare.

You have 17 minutes to find and try on this dress.

Reward: $850

Below the dare was a picture of a gorgeous black dress on a mannequin. Seungmin let out a slow whistle over my shoulder. "That thing must cost a fortune!" I ran a hand through my hair and nodded. Looking up the store stood maybe 15 stories tall. Finding that singular dress in ten minutes was going to take a miracle.

"Come on! We don't have a lot of time." Seungmin had already started walking towards the entrance. Before I could follow him my phone sounded again.

Ding

Looking down, I read the message. "Seungmin...." He stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. Innocent eyes looking back at me with a smile. Confirming that he would most likely follow me into whatever crazy shit I got myself into.

"You can't come." His face fell and he walked back to me. I showed him the message.

Ditch your techie boyfriend.

"Y/n, you can't seriously be thinking of doing this alone?" He could tell by my face that I was going to follow through. "I'm not going to let you do this by yourself. It's too dangerous!"

"Seungmin! I have to do this alone!" He looked away from me I could see a million things he wanted to say. Both of us were stubborn but he knew this was a battle he couldn't win. "Fine, but I'm signing up as a Watcher."

"Just don't sign up to film dares or they could say I'm cheating." He shrugged and got back into the car. "Yeah sure."

"Seungmin...." I placed my hand on his shoulder through the open window. "Thank you." He smiled softly and motioned for me to leave.

Clicking accept, the camera activated and the timer started counting down. I tried to keep my face somewhat in frame as I ran into the store. My eyes frantically searched for a store clerk. 1:29 had passed.

"Hey! Excuse me! Um......have you seen this dress?" She raised her heavily drawn eyebrow. "Yes, of course, I've seen it."

Really? You're really gonna pull that shit with me? "Where is it? Sorry, I'm headed to a party? In a little bit of a rush." She scoffed and pointed behind her. Clearly, she thought it was hilarious someone like me would even be in the store.

"8th floor." I thanked her and brought the phone back up a little bit to film less of a shit angle. I raced to the elevator but a check with the timer told me there wasn't enough time. "Oh fuck." Comments popped up tens at a time as I raced up the stairs. Bursting through the 8th-floor doors I scanned each mannequin looking for the black dress.

Thankfully I found it with 8 minutes to spare. I quietly tried to unzip the zipper. I was halfway there. Just a couple more inches.

"Excuse me, miss." I froze, a deer in headlights. "Don't undress the mannequin. I can see if I have that in your size." A man with quaffed hair and a matron suit said. He looked me up and down with a questioning gaze. He gave a forced smile when I told him my size.

"Could you please hurry? I'm late for a....uh...party." With a nod, he disappeared to find the dress. I let out a sigh of relief and prayed that he could find it quickly. I gave a quick smile toward the camera before picking up the tag on the dress.

"HOLY FUCK!" I exclaimed under my breath. The dress cost close to $2,000. Who would pay $2,000 for a black bodycon dress? I could get something like this for $20 online probably.

The man returned with the dress with 5 minutes to spare. He led me to a communal dressing room area in a half-moon shape with curtained rooms lining the walls.

Rushing into the far right one, I threw my phone onto the bench and angled the camera towards me. Throwing off my shirt and shorts I grabbed the dress keeping an eye on the timer. 1 minute left. I was thankful for the fact I wore a black bra and underwear seeing as there were so many mesh panels.

Writhing around like the demon from the Exorcist, I tried to close the zipper. I could see the timer counting down from 10 on the screen. Comments flooded a tiny section of the screen as I watched the camera capture all of my attempts to get the zipper that last inch.

With two seconds left I cheered and grabbed my phone stepping out of the dressing room. "I'm done!" I flipped the camera to show the mirror. However, no notification came telling me I completed the dare. I tapped the screen, still seeing comments coming in. "What? Come on! I totally finished in time." I sighed defeated.

Ding

Congratulations! $850.00 has been wired to your account.

Smiling I pumped my fist in the air like a dork. "Are you still doing okay, Miss?" The clerk said walking in. Immediately I straighten my posture and got rid of the goofy smile. "Yes, I'm doing fine." After the man walked away I let my hand fall to my side. The reflection in the mirror called me to look at it.

My eyes scanned over my body in the mirror from bottom to top. My white sneakers still looked the same but as I moved up my appearance changed. My legs suddenly looked nicer and curvier rather than large. The black dress hugged my hips and hid my love handles. It looked fantastic. A smile slid onto my face. I loved what I saw in the mirror. I thought I looked pretty.

"So, you come here often?" I joked at my reflection.

"Oh, me?"

"What's your email number- I mean uh- what's your uh- your number?" I cringed internally and physically at how awkward I was even in this gorgeous dress. The dress gave me confidence, but not enough to change the fact that I cannot speak. I couldn't help but laugh at myself.

"Well look at you."

I turned at the voice to find Han walking out of one of the dressing rooms. His eyes drank in my figure with a small smile of wonder.

"You look beautiful." He said crossing the distance. "You clean up quite nicely too."

He dusted off his blazer with a smirk. The white dress shirt underneath the gray blazer with black lapels was fitted to his lean body. The top two buttons were left undone showing the tan skin on his neck and collarbone. The fabric was tucked into slim-fitting cropped dress pants that made him look a little taller. However, similarly, Han's shows did not match his ensemble. The black Doc Martens on his feet should have clashed with everything else, but the whole outfit seemed quite him.

"Why thank you." Again his eyes wandered up and down my body, not in a sensual way, but more like in amazement. "We make quite the couple don't we?" He said with a smile as his hand wrapped around my waist. He looked in the mirror and stuck his other hand in his pocket.

I chuckled as he made funny faces at me in the mirror. But he was right. Standing next to him in the mirror I almost looked like I belonged there. Maybe a little awkward, but less out of place next to him. "What are the chances we both get a dare in the same place?" I asked with a naive smile.

Ding Ding

Both our phones went off at about the same time. He smiled as he read his dare. Looking at mine I couldn't help but do the same.

Let Han choose shoes to finish your look.

Reward: $350

Han flipped his phone to show me. His screen had a similar dare written on it. This had to be the easiest $350 I would ever make. 

Complete Y/n’s ensemble.

Reward: Laptop and Recording Mic

“Milady, if you would come this way?” With an overexaggerated bow he motioned for the doorway. Taking the goofball’s hand we both headed out onto the floor in search of the shoe section. 

Han knelt on the floor below me trying to unfasten the tiny buckle on a pair of women’s heels while he riffed in a terrible British accent. My camera stayed trained on him while his phone was propped up on a bunch of shoe boxes. Another string of cuss words flew out of his mouth as the strap slipped through his larger fingers. I threw my head back in laughter, looking around the store.

A flash of black leather caught my eye. A boy maybe a few years older than me was speeding through the aisle towards the exit, phone in hand. His blonde hair contrasted against his pale skin and muscular form. He wore all black including a worn leather jacket and dark ripped jeans. Gripped tightly in his hands were two bags with the store’s name branded across the middle. 

“Ah HaH!” My attention was immediately brought back to the boy on the floor who had finally managed to undo the clasp. A shy smile slipped onto my lips as he slid the black heel onto my foot. Though I didn’t consider myself a girly girl, I felt like Cinderella. With my assistance, we fastened the buckle on both shoes and I stood in front of the mirror. Han panned the phone over my entire outfit.

“Gorgeous! I’ll take three pairs! One for the Hamptons, one for lounging, and one for housework.”

He snorted behind the camera and handed my phone back when NERVE said the dare was complete. After changing back into my old beat up Filas, the two of us headed back towards the dressing rooms. “Well, this has been really fun,” I said standing in the center of the room. He smiled, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, it has.” There was a moment where we just looked at each other, and I swear I saw some sort of longing in his eyes. His eyes looked down to my lips for a split second.

Ding

“Oh, sorry. One moment.” “No, no. Go ahead.” I watched as Han pulled away, I hadn’t realized how close he had gotten. He scratched the back of his head and turned away from me. The notification was simply I deposit from my bank, but it brought me back to reality. “I should probably get...going.” Han turned back and looked at me with big eyes. I couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked. “Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll see you around?” I smiled and started towards my dressing room. 

“Hey, Y/n-”

“Yes?”

“You look really beautiful.” I smiled at him and hoped I wasn’t blushing too much. 

The two of us then turned and walked to our respective dressing rooms. My smile disappeared when I saw the room empty. My stuff nowhere in sight. Getting down on my knees, I checked under the bench and behind it, as well as behind a potted plant in the corner. I started to panic, the choker on my neck suddenly feeling very tight.

I rushed out into the open. Maybe I had walked into the wrong room? Opening the curtains I checked the last three, of course, finding absolutely nothing. Was I going crazy? Returning to the original dressing room I started to really panic. Did someone really take my stuff? Maybe the clerk thought I left it here for too long.

“Y/n?”

“Han?”

The two of us met in the center once more. He had the same panicked expression written all over his handsome features. “You didn’t take my stuff, did you? As a dare?” I asked, trying not to let my voice get too loud. “What? No, of course not! All my shit is gone too!” My mind was reeling, trying to think of how to get out of this situation. “Fuck! The game is probably just messing with us. Or maybe it was a Watcher? I saw some out on the floor.”

“Han, what are we going to do? We can’t pay for these clothes and we don’t have-”

Just then the store clerk from earlier passed by in the hall. Han dragged me into a dressing room and closed the curtain, giving us privacy. He ran a shaking hand through his dark hair, completely stressed out. “What if we-”

Ding

Both devices went off at once. Sharing a look, we read NERVE’s next dare. 

“No. No way.” Han said letting his phone fall onto the bench before turning back to me. “What other choice do we have?” His hands once again ran through his hair, a habit caused by stress, I could now assume.”I mean I knew that the Watchers were thinking about teaming us up, but this could actually get us arrested!” I tried to quiet his voice in case the clerk decided to walk by again. He seemed to calm a little when my hand came over his shoulder. I looked at my phone once more.

Leave the store.

Reward: New iPhone and free unlimited plan

At this point, I didn’t care about the prize. I racked my brain trying to think of any way out of this besides stealing. Though I did keep my debit card in my phone case, there was no way I could afford to pay for both my and Han’s clothes. Suddenly it hit me. “Technically,” He looked over at me, his eyes hopeful for any solution.

“Technically...it just says we have to leave the store,” 

Han stuck his head out through the curtain, making sure the coast was clear. “Okay, are you ready?” He asked holding his phone tight in his hand. Thankfully NERVE didn’t put a time limit on this dare. With a nod, we both clicked ‘accept’ and ventured out into the open. 

The air was cold and I felt exposed standing in just my black underwear and bra. I followed closely behind Han who held his phone up as casually as possible to film the dare. I had my camera on selfie mode and tried not to let the angle drop below my midriff. Just as we were about to turn a corner we ran into a sales clerk, who upon the sight of us, screamed her head off. 

“Run!” Taking my hand, Han and I sprinted through the store racing in between racks in our underwear. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see some people recording, they must have been Watchers.  My laughter filled the air as we maneuvered between people and racks. With four floors left to go, I stopped Han and pointed to our left. “Elevator!” 

Changing directions, we ran towards the elevator. Laughing I held up the camera and smiled before panning back to Han as he ferociously pressed the down button. He smiled when the bronze doors opened and pulled me into the empty lift.

An awkward silence filled the elevator as we started moving down. An embarrassed laugh left my lips as we looked at each other. It was so hard not to look at him. Never in my life had I seen a more perfect body. His skin was golden and his stomach had subtle lines of muscles defining it. He scoffed his shoes on the tile floor obviously struggling to look anywhere but in my direction.

He opened his mouth to speak to me, but the elevator doors opened to reveal a middle-aged couple. Their jaws dropped as we stared at each other. "Okay, bye!" I screamed grabbing Han's hand and sprinting out of the elevator.

As we traveled down the escalator, going against the movement of the device, we heard staff chasing us. The second our feet touched the floor we sprinted past customers who stood in utter shock at the scene before us.

Bursting through the entrance doors we spilled out onto the street only to be met with a huge crowd of Watchers filming us. Cameras flashed as we pushed through the crowd across the street. Han led me to a motorcycle that was parked near the curb.

"What's this?" He said picking up two bags hanging off the handlebars. I grabbed one of the bags to pull out the dress from earlier. "Oh my god! Are these stolen?" I whispered, stuffing the dress back in the bag. Han searched his bag and pulled out a piece of paper.

"No, receipt. We're good."

"Who could have paid for all this?"

"Probably one of the Watchers with daddy's credit card."

I chuckled and slipped the fabric over my head. I felt better finally being covered in clothing. Han quickly buttoned his pants and slipped his arms in the sleeves of his button-down. "Could you zip me real quick?" Seeing him nod I turned around and felt his warm hands brush against the skin of my back. When I could feel the cool strip of metal fully closed against my skin I turned around, thanking him with a smile.

Ding

I pulled out my phone while Han finished buttoning his shirt and pulling on his jacket. I screamed with joy as the notification enlarged on my screen.

"Who 3fanxy's in here!" I smiled thinking of one of my favorite songs. NERVE had given us an extra prize since our Watcher count had gone up 5,000 viewers. Han and I were now in fourth and fifth place.

Congratulations! Your confirmation and receipt for your phone have been sent to your email and will be mailed to you.

$1,600 has also been deposited into your account.

Han looked over at me with a smirk, pulling keys off of a hidden hook on the bike. "Was that Zico?" He looked me up and down as he leaned against the bike, which I now assumed was his. "What? It's a good song! Fight me." He laughed as he checked his phone briefly too. "No, I love Zico. Bermuda Triangle, right?" I nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

"His music got me through a really tough time in my life." Maybe it wasn't a coincidence that I was paired up with Han? Han smiled softly at me. He ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair. His brown eyes surveyed the area. He motioned to a bench a few feet away. “We should have a little time before the next dare. Do you want to get to know each other?”

The two of us sat on the bench, the city lights bouncing off the buildings and creating shadows on our faces. “So, what’s something you’ve never told anyone before?” His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he draped an arm over the back of the metal bench looking over at me.

“Ummm you’re a stranger. I barely know you!” I said with a nervous laugh.

“Please! We’ve kissed and I’ve seen you practically naked.”

A hot blush came over my cheeks as I looked down to see his hand resting on my thigh, closing the already minuscule distance between our seats. 

“Fine. Tell me something about you first.” He smiled and nodded. His brows furrowed as Han tried to think of something. He drummed his fingers across my skin and I struggled to control the flood of heat rushing to my cheeks once again. The action wasn’t sexual, it almost seemed casual and domestic. Something I found ironic but surprisingly nice.

“Okay, got it.” He smiled and turned back to me with the tiniest smile. Motioning for him to continue, his face turned serious.

“For my entire life, I have wanted to make music. A couple years ago, I got scouted by JYP and I’ve literally been living out my dream since. But sometimes...I feel like I don’t deserve it or I’m not ready. Sometimes I just want to go back in time...before all of...this. Is that weird?”

His bright eyes turned sad as he spoke. It was then I noticed little things about him. The dark bags under his eyes, the marks around and in his ears from headphones and headsets, the small callouses and rough patches on his hands and fingers from writing and playing instruments. The was a tiredness about him. 

“No, I don’t think that’s weird. Not at all.”

A smile slipped onto his face as I rested my hand over his. “Okay, your turn, beautiful.” I sighed and thought about everything that happened in the last two days. My thoughts turned back to seeing Jennie and Hyunjin just a few hours earlier. A car horn zooming by brought me back to reality. “Y/n? Hey, beautiful, you good?” Nodding, I started playing with one of the silver rings on my fingers.

“Have you ever felt like the person you are and the person you are with everyone else are completely different?” 

He nodded and I felt his thumb brush across my skin.

“Looking back on my life now, I’ve been spending most of my life being this girl that is such a pushover. Someone who just went with the group, or even my best friend. Not getting to choreograph, I even ignored it when Jennie took my spot as the principal dancer in the showcase.  Even though it wasn’t what I wanted to do or she hurt me, I just brushed it off. That’s kind of why I’m doing this. In the time I’ve been playing this game...I’ve felt the most myself I ever have been. I can say whatever I want and do whatever I want without having to be anybody’s sidekick. I like this version of me better.”

A glance over to Han revealed a kind smile on his lips. It quickly turned into a smirk when my full attention turned on him. “Well if it helps, I like this Y/n very much.” Before I could respond Han’s phone went off signaling a new task. 

“It says we have to go to this address for our next dare. NERVE is just tallying up the Watchers’ votes.” With a smirk, he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me to his bike. “Hold on tight, beautiful.” He revved up the engine as I wrapped my arms around his waist and off into the city we raced.

Soon we arrived in the club district of Seoul. Han double-checked the address as he parked in front of a storefront with bright teal neon lights, casting dreamlike tints over Han’s features. My phone buzzed as I pulled my dress down a little further. 

Do you trust Han?

His brows furrowed as he read over my shoulder. His hand on my waist did not go unnoticed.

The Watchers have decided

Let Han choose your tattoo. It must be at least 2 inches.

Reward: $9,500

“Holy shit. No way. My mom would kill me.” I said finally glancing up to read the neon sign. “What kind of flowers do you want at your funeral?” Han said with a laugh as he dragged me by the hand into the parlor.

“What about a panther riding a lightning bolt?”

“I’ll murder you before the Watchers will ask me to.”

He laughed as he flipped through the book of designs as heavy rock music blasted through the shop. “What about dragons? Or Porky Pig!”

“You’re a duh-duh--duh-duh-duh-duh-douce.” The man prepping the tools laughed and pointed at Han. “Your girlfriend is hilarious. Keep her around.” Han sends me a wink when he sees my flustered face, and then returns to the book. The man, his name was Taehoon, then started to prep the area where Han said my tattoo should go.

“None of these are good enough.” “Han, please don’t make me regret this.”

“Hold on. I’ll just free draw it.”

“THAT’S LIKE THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT I JUST SAID, YOU BITCH!” 

Han panned my phone over to me to show my pissed off face as Taehoon helped me adjust my dress so he had room to work. After propping my phone up nearby to film he went back to drawing. “Taehoon, over here. “ The man came over needle tattoo thing in hand. “Can you do something like this, but less shitty?” He nodded and a huge grin encompassed his face. “Dude, yes! That is awesome!”

Taehoon came over and laid me on my stomach before giving me a hair tie to get my hair out of the way. The second the needle touched the base of my neck I gritted my teeth and tried to not cry out in pain.

“Han, I hate you so much.”

“Love you too.”

I stifled a scream by biting down on my arm. Suddenly a familiar tune started blasting through the shop. “Ohhhhh! This is a good song!” Taehoon exclaimed before going back to work on the tattoo that was now forming at the base of my neck. The first verse of Zico’s Bermuda Triangle rang throughout the small and neon-lit shop. He laughed when I started passionately singing along. 

“Ow! Han this feels much bigger than two inches!” 

“Chill baby, I’m just finishing the ‘y’ in ‘daddy’.”

“Taehoon! Han, I’m going to fucking kill you!”

“He’s joking! He’s joking! You’re almost done, beautiful.” Han said filming the whole endeavor. To take my mind off the pain of the needle stabbing some weird design into my skin, Han distracted me by blasting Zico, reading off the funniest live comments, and letting me squeeze the living crap out of his hand. 

“Okay. You’re done. Go view my work. Holy shit this is one of the best things I’ve done.” Taehoon said turning off his equipment and cleaning off the excess ink one last time. Han walked with me over to a floor-length mirror and turned me around. Taehoon pulled a handheld mirror from a drawer and handed it to me. I gasped, my eyes finally falling onto the tattoo on the back of my neck. It was gorgeous. It perfectly encapsulated what Han and I had talked about on the bench.

“Han...It’s perfect. Thank you.” I couldn’t stop looking at the art on my skin. The thin flowing lines perfectly made up two separate faces. He smiled as I went to kiss his cheek. He smiled and handed my phone to Taehoon to keep filming so we could show NERVE proof the dare was complete. Han pushed a stray piece of hair away from my neck as Taehoon zoomed in with the camera. 

A few seconds later my phone went off with a notification. “Dare complete. You’ve got balls, little lady.” Taehoon said as he handed me back my phone. Han zipped my dress back up and checked my phone with me.

Dare Completed

Your reward has been deposited in your account along with and extra $500 for the Watcher gain.

Another notification popped up from my back saying a total of $10,000 was deposited in my account. I took out my debit card ready to pay Taehoon for the tattoo, but he stopped me. “Don’t it’s on the house. As long as you let me take a picture of it and promise to come back to me for your next tattoo.” He said with a smile before wrapping me up in a big bear hug. 

With the picture taken Han and I exited the shop and walked towards his bike. “So how painful was it actually? On a scale of one to ten.” “I don’t maybe a 6.7.” 

Ding

Han pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped to unlock the device. A bright smile slipped over his face. 

Han, do you trust Y/n?

“Ohhhhhhh do I have a tattoo for you!” I said pulling his arm back towards Taehoon’s shop. “Wait, they sent another message.” I stopped and pulling and looked at his phone.

Get to 60mph blindfolded.

Reward: 4-year tuition payment

4-year tuition payment? I thought Han said he was at JYP? “Holy shit...Of course, they would know about his tuition.” Han mumbled under his breath. Suddenly a loud roar came down the street along with deafening EDM music. A huge jeep came cruising down the street and stopped in front of us. The driver's side door opened to reveal the blonde boy from the department store. 

“Chan?” 

“Don’t mind me, Han. Just finishing a dare. Hold this for me would you, hot stuff?”

He handed me a Twice bumper sticker that was a little under a foot long and held up his phone so that NERVE could see his dare was completed. “I’ll see you guys in the finals!” With that, the blonde boy, Chan, drove off into the night.

“There is no way I can do this.” Han turned to me. There was a little bit of panic in his eyes. “What? No Y/n I need your help! I can’t do this without you!” He grabbed my shoulders trying to keep me to stay. “Han this is too much for me. It’s dangerous! I don’t want to do this. I’m done.” 

“Y/n, please! Listen, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll do anything you want me to if you help me. Please, I don’t have a choice.” 

“You don’t have a choice?” 

“That’s not what I meant. My hyung, his tuition. My parents can’t afford to pay for it. Please, Y/n! I trust you. I know we can do this. 

I looked down at his hand gripping tight onto mine. Han had completely changed. He was desperate. His brown eyes pleaded with me, begging me to say yes. I let go of his hands and a sadness and panic filled his face.  I took the helmet that was hanging off the bars of his motorcycle and placed the Twice sticker across the visor, before handing it to Han.

“Okay...”

Part 2?

REQUEST ARE OPEN  (just send me an ask!)

Masterlist

[clowndaydreams]

Yan!Marvus x Reader

I hope you all like it!

“Can you pass me the potato chips?” You looked over to your companion. Marvus nodded and reached over to get said bag from his side of the couch.

“here ya go.” You grunted a quick thank you to the clown and started to dig in. You had been hanging out with Marvus all day. You still couldn’t believe how friendly you’ve gotten with the superstar since you met him at that concert you went to. It had been a few perigrees since then, but the clown had since made a habit of inviting you over randomly when he was free. You were just happy that he remembered you at all.

Currently though, you were both relaxing on the couch and watching some Slam or Get Culled episodes that he was in. Right now, a season finale was playing. He was the final challenge for that season’s top 2. They had to rap battle him and whoever fared better was the winner.  You glanced over at him. He was in his usual facepaint, but was casually wearing a neon yellow ripped tank top and matching pajama pants with some designer troll logo and ‘JUICY’ all over them. How he managed to look so hot in that would forever elude you. You snapped out of it when he started speaking again.

“u kno, i thought ricard was the better 1 outta those 2.” You pretended to glare at him.

“SPOILERS!” You jokingly huffed, lightly shoving his arm. It didn’t move, as you’d expect.

“LOL! XoD sorry fam, seen dis crap 1000 times alreddy.” Wait, then why did he let you pick this episode? Or even agree to watch this with you? If this was boring you could do something else. And as if he could read your mind, he held up a hand.

“dun worry bout dis. is chill or w/e. butt srsly, u kno who gunna win.”

“Still! I wanna watch it!” You giggled. You both watched on in silence as Marvus was brought on to surprise the contestants.

“How were they behind the scenes?” You asked as you watched the confessionals for both of the contestants.

“ricards moirail b a clown, so me n him knew each other alreddy. he wuz p chill i guess lol.”

“What about Krayaa?”

“turns out she wuz a fangirl. foamin at the mouth n erythng.”

“Really?!” You turned to him to try and see if he was lying. He looked almost bored about it all. Like you were both talking about the weather or something. You wished you could be so relaxed about meeting a rabid fangirl and somehow living to tell the tale. Seadwellers were supposed to be stronger and more durable than landdwellers. At least, that was according Polypa anyway. Huh, you had to remember to check on her later after you got home too.

“ye. she wanted 2 pail after the shoot.” Your jaw dropped. Krayaa was a seadweller! Did he have to listen to her? She could have killed him for not listening!

“Nahhh, no worries,, the contract she signed for the ep woulda had her disqualified and mah bodyguards woulda whooped her b4 she had a chance. ;op” He chuckled. “If she managed 2 get thru them, I aint no wimp.” He added, flexing his arms a little to prove his point. You almost couldn’t stop staring. He had to know what he was doing to you…right? Granted, this was a crush you had no intention of pursuing. If you were speaking honestly, Marvus was a guy who probably didn’t want commitment due to his lifestyle. Even then, he had people throwing themselves at him constantly. People his own species. People who were a lot better fitting with his general aesthetic and not some poor wandering alien that he would DM when he was high when they both should have been sleeping. Your own concepts of relationships and types of love were different. But you could dream, right? You were content with just having him as your designated hot friend anyway. …That did mean you were allowed to drool over him in your mind. As long as it doesn’t get creepy to him. Yeah. You were fine.

“u gud (Y/N)? u tryna lure snacks into ur mouth or smth?” You snapped out of your stupor.

“Ew! Gross! I don’t eat bugs like you weirdos!”

“it aint gross. literally free snacks u can catch. :o)” He laughed.

“Where I’m from they’re gross!” Granted, there were places that did eat crickets and the like on Earth, but you would never tell him that.

“dun knock it till ya try it.” He got up and left the room, returning after a moment with a small box.

“…What is that.” You had a sinking feeling you knew what it was.

“chirp grubs.” He opened it and there they were. Disgusting caramelized crickets.

“I can’t.” You shook your head.

“more 4 me lol.” You looked away as he ate a few of the crickets. You looked back at him when his palmhusk rang. It sounded like a clown horn version of one of his songs. Fitting, honestly.

He glanced at it and rolled his eyes before silencing the phone.

“Who was that?”

“thottie.”

“Oh…” He looked bored again. Not good. What could you talk to him about to keep him interested?

“Uh…You ever get tired of the fans trying to aggressively pail you?” Ok, that wasn’t the best choice for conversation. Your bad.

“i meannn….in the beginning yeah. now its kinda the norm 4 me ufeelme?”

“Yeah, I guess. Does it ever make you feel like you can’t have a relation-er, quadrant?” You assumed it would, but that would also come with fame in general, wouldn’t it? You weren’t sure. Then again, if he didn’t want-

“kinda. i think its kinda funny how i can attract psychos, fans and thots, but not my crushes.” You sat up straight. Marvus had a crush?

“Wait. You…uh…are pale or um….red? for somebody?” You didn’t have the best grasp on quadrant terms.

“lol sumtimes i forget your an alien.” He leaned back onto the couch.

“butt yeah, i have a few crushes at the mo.” He smiled, staring at the ceiling.  Few. He has more than one crush right now. That soft smile said it all. He had it bad.

“…Can you tell me who they are?” He looked over at you and looked sheepish.

“i…dun think is a gud idea.”

“Please? I have to know who the great Marvus Xoloto has a crush on.”

“u kno 1. itll be awk af :o(“ Now you had to know. Now you were thinking about whether or not Marvus had a type. What if they were all mega hot models? Wait! Did he have a crush on Chahut? They would totally have to know each other. Who else did you both know??? He heard of Cirava, but you didn’t think they talked. Who???

“…kk fine. only if u slam a faygo tho.” You gave him a look.

“Isn’t Faygo…not for non-clowns?”

“is just us. whos gunna kno?”

“You promise nobody’s gonna know?”

“on my life. u slam a faygo, n ill tell u who my flush be.” You thought it over. You remembered tasting the stuff at clown church when you went you went with Chahut that one time. Just a sip left you a bit tipsy. A whole bottle may have rendered you unable to be coherent enough to even process who his flush crush was. Would it be worth it? You felt a choice coming on. Either way you had to drink a certain amount in order to maybe try and learn this random troll’s identity. The question was, do you try and counter his offer or just slam the entire bottle and hope for the best?

…

It would be better to respect your own limits. A bunch of your friends had lectured you a few times over putting yourself out just to potentially make a friend. This would piss them off and would probably not end in your favor even if you did decide to just go with it anyway.

“How much faygo do I have to drink?”

“hm…” He got up, went to the kitchen and got a small can of Grape Faygo, a normal bottle for one and a whole 2 liter bottle. “imma b nice. u get a choice. u gotta try 2 finish the can. u get 1 q with the name if u finish the can. Smol bottle gets u 2 qs and the name n the 2L gets u as many qs as u liek. fair enough 2 u?”

…Now you wanted to chug the 2 liter. You haven’t even seen anyone try to down that other than the Grand High Blood once when you took Karako to clown church for the first time. But that guy was a clown and he is HUGE. You, not so much. But, you chose to respect yourself for once. You’d see how you felt after the small can and go from there. You picked it up, opened the can and took a deep breathe. Powers that be, let this not wreck you and let this answer be worth it. If he cops out with his answers, you would try to hurt him. You started chugging. You did your best to try and treat it like a shot like Cirava taught you so you wouldn’t taste the overly sweet flavor too much. After a moment of light agony and attempting to not drown in the soda, you reached the end of the can. You slammed it onto the coffee table and started panting. Ok, you weren’t feeling woozy like before. Maybe those tiny sips when you went to clown church helped your body get used to it.

“u gunna try the otha bottles?” You managed to shake your head. You weren’t gonna do that again. Your head started hurting. You looked over at him. Were his eyes always so vibrantly purple? Woah, now they’re flashing purple. What the heck? Was this Faygo high? You now understood why all the other clowns were so goofy after drinking a cup of this stuff. Crap, now your head was starting to hurt.

“Wh-Who….who is it..?” You started feeling like you were gonna pass out. You laid down on the couch. You needed to close your eyes. That was way too much for you. You felt Marvus pick you up into his arms.

“ye…after u wake up bb.” Wake up? Wait, did he just call you a pet name?! You were about to question him when he tilted his head.

“dangg,, u managed 2 stay awake with chuckles and faygo? ur stronger than i thought. Soz bout this babes.” His eyes became blindingly vibrant again and you blacked out.

[roswelldetails]

RNM 2x05 - I'll Stand By You

So just a little note from me, the person behind the season 2 detailing.  I am trying really really hard to keep emotion out of these posts...which is really really hard for me because I'm an inherently emotional person. I'm a glass case of emotion, ready to shatter at any given moment. (#dramatic)  But I want to be true to the intent of this blog and keep my feelings, biases, and, you know, shipping out of this blog.

It was really really hard to do with this episode. Because I straight up ugly cried for like, 45 of the 60 minutes. 😂

So I guess, the point is, I'm proud of myself and sticking to the details here. My regular blog is where I'm doing the emotional flip out thing! 😂

EPISODE SUMMARY:

ACCEPTING REALITY — The discovery of some complications with Max’s (Nathan Dean) pod forces Liz (Jeanine Mason), Michael (Michael Vlamis) and Isobel (Lily Cowles) to confront the possibility that they may not be able to save him. Elsewhere, Maria (Heather Hemmens) and Alex (Tyler Blackburn) make amends. Kimberly McCullough directed the episode written by Alanna Bennett & Jason Gavin (#205). Original airdate 4/13/2020. 

DETAILS:

Max/Isobel/Michael reunite at age 11 according to what Michael tells Alex in 1x10.  So that would make the opening of this episode set in 2002ish.

Michael tells Max and Isobel, "I remember you. I don't know you."

"After nobody adopted me for a year they just stuck me with the name of that trucker who found us."

"I didn't ask you for anything."

This is like the thesis statement of Michael's whole history with Max in the flashbacks.

"Don't pay more than you collect, kid. Passing credit back and forth is a good way to get stuck with somebody forever."

Rosa's art. 

What I can see says: "...what they all told me, but I didn't listen" and "Stand the shelter".

Rosa on her dreams

"I have not had any freaky dreams in weeks. Okay, Max is probably off haunting Isobel now that they're strong enough for their psychic twincest weirdness."

"How long has that been happening?"

"Um, I don't know. It's an old boom box."

"Rosa, have electrical appliances been malfunctioning around you?"

"I really thought it was just a side effect of the handprint."

"If being in the pod introduced a new protein into your system it could have altered your DNA too. You could be developing abilities."

"Liz, look. The handprint is changing.  It's smaller."

"It's fading."

"Tell me this is a good thing."

"I don't think so."

Michael and Liz theorizing on why the pod shorted out:

"The pod's got a charge. It's like a battery powering the preservation process. This one's gone dead."

"Did the generator blow the electromagnetic threshold?"

"I think a surge came from the pod itself. But that pod has lasted almost a century. It shouldn't glitch out."

"Okay, well, then, this one did."

"All right, stop. It doesn't matter why the pod is broken. It just is. So how long does Max have?"

"My theory is that being tethered to Rosa through the mark is what kept Max from going brain-dead, and in turn the stasis process is what kept the mark from fading. So he could be gone by tonight."

"Okay, well, we have three more pods. So let's just put him into another pod."

"No. He's just gonna do it again. I haven't told you everything. I didn't want to scare you. I didn't want to be the one that took the hope away."

"Talk now, Rosa. Right now."

"I was seeing Max in my nightmares months before I told you about it, and he was begging me to stop you. He said that he was in a lot of pain in there."

"That's Noah's pod. Noah told us it was broken. It wasn't keeping him in stasis. He could feel time passing. None of us thought of that."

"We've been doing everything we can to make Max stronger. He pulled his own plug."

Note...as far as we know Isobel was the only one who knew about Noah's pod being broken.  In 1x12 it was before Liz arrived at the house that he told them about the broken pod, so only Max and Isobel heard that part of the story.

Alex on his training. "NSA intelligence cryptology training".

Monitor screen in the secret lab:

Noah's heart is still too weak to transplant. Kyle says it needs at least eight more weeks

"I wrote a paper for a bioethics class on patients in vegetative states who feel pain. Sometimes it's all they feel."

As a non sciencey person, I was wondering if bioethics class was a real thing. Tonight I saw an interview on the news with a UC Berkeley bioethics professor on COVID. So yes, it's a thing.

Alex on Michael that summer post-Rosa's death:

Starting fights with jocks

Broke into the drugstore

Not going to UNM

Hasn't hung out with Max all summer

Got busted for stealing hubcaps (Kyle's hubcaps, we learn later) 

Became a walking bar fight

Was in jail when Alex left to enlist

Michael on Max in 2008:

"It's more than that. And it's less than that. We were friends when we were kids, but now Max reminds me of a bunch of stuff that I'd rather forget. The only thing that we have in common anymore is Isobel."

Max's yearbook had a pencil stuck in the page with Liz and Max's photo in it. (The one we first saw in 1x03).

"Biology Club. Max hated science. He was in that club for four years just to watch your sister chew on the end of her pencil."

Max's mindscape:

First just desert, clouds, and then lightning strikes (destructive energy?)

Liz's antennae -- they disappear from Isobel's hands

Rosa describes it as broken

Crashdown special is Max's favorite "Little Green Man milkshake".

The Crashdown counter is kind of merged with biology lab equipment. 

The juke box is there

The Crashdown booths

Jeep

Neon Crashdown sign

One of those claw drop game machines (from the Crashdown) but it's filled with baked good displays.

The yearbook

Later, everything else is gone except the one Crashdown booth, the Jeep, and the neon sign.

The distorted music they follow to find Max is the Cactus Groove song in the music list...just, messed around with. See @angsty-nerd's post here:

"I'm the hothead. You are the hero. It's always been that way."

"You stole the hubcaps off Kyle Valenti's graduation present. Both his parents are cops. Do you want to end up in jail tonight?". 

👀 Tonight, specifically. 

Michael seemed excited about the job at Foster's Ranch until he found out that Max set it up for him.  Max found out about it from his dad (only like the 2nd or 3rd mention of his dad in the series so far).

"When I got back in town I asked Max why you and your brilliant mind hadn't changed the world yet. He said you didn't care about the world enough to bother changing it. He believed you could."

Max and Isobel in the mindscape:

"You're okay. I could feel something was wrong with you.  Everything felt…"

"Cold. I know."

"You can't be here. It's finally ending.  I can feel it. But I don't know what happens if you're in my head when I die."

"So it's true? You want this?"

"I could feel my connection to the outside world getting stronger, so I snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. I released a surge. You have to let me go, Iz."

"I can't take it anymore."

"Okay."

"I am so sorry."

"I just want to memorize this."

"Okay. Okay.  I need you to tell Liz something."

"You can tell her yourself.  She and Kyle are prepping for surgery.  They're going to use the faulty heart. She just wants to talk to you before you die."

"No. No."

"You won't be suffering. They're just gonna bring you back and then let you go."

"No you have to stop this.  You cannot bring me back under any circumstances."

"Max? What is really going on?"

"I am dangerous.  Whatever Liz is bringing back is not me. It's just some broken shell."

Maria on her mom's computer 

"Her nurse said that for the two weeks before she went missing, when she wasn't trying to escape, she was talking to someone online."

The 21st birthday flashback

Isobel gets Michael to help move Max after getting drunk on tequila.  He passed out in front of the tattoo parlor. It's the same tattoo parlor Michael goes to at the end of the episode.

Max's weird drunken statement.

"The thing is, there has to be there. Okay? There's always three. Until the very end.  I'll show you...What it means is you should be here…'cause it's all broken without three. So we'll figure it out.  You'll find your way back."

👀 Until the very end. Interesting.

On Max becoming a deputy:

"You know he did the whole police academy thing because of you, right? He thinks you're gonna get into the kind of trouble you can't get out of if you don't know someone."

Back in the mindscape:

"I figured it all out. She, there's an energy to suffering, there's an energy to death, and when I heal people, I absorb that energy. So when I resurrected Rosa, I took in ten years of emptiness. So if you resurrect me, you will be bringing back an infection. Don't want… I don't want to come back as a monster. I don't want to hurt anyone that I care about."

"That's what this is about? We've been hurting, Max. We don't work without you."

"You will! You will. You are stronger now than when I died. All of you are. You, Michael, Liz, you will survive this. The three of you. No, you need to stop them, Iz. Now."

"Okay. I love you."

"You too." Isobel disappears.

Max is using pretty similar wording to his drunken rambles in the 21st birthday flashback

We don't see that Max is chained down until this next exchange with Rosa. Isobel didn't see that detail as far as we know.  Didn't hear the chains clanking when they stood and hugged. Only after Isobel left.

"I'm sorry this is happening."

"Isobel is lying. She is buying time.  You know she'll never let me go. But you can feel the darkness too, right? That's why you don't like being in my head. Because you know it's real."

"I didn't want that to be true, but yes."

"I know my sister and I know your sister and they'll never give up. So you have to be the one to stop this surgery, okay? Or I will destroy everything that we love. You have to stop them to save them. Now go.  Please, Rosa. Go."

Isobel explaining to Liz

"When he saved Rosa he absorbed all of that dark energy. He's gonna have to expel it."

"And he's afraid he's gonna kill someone when he does."

"Yeah. So we just need someone stronger than Max to take that hit...if he thinks he needs to protect us he obviously doesn't know how capable we are. Bring him back, Liz. I'll handle the rest."

"I get it now. It's gotta be the three of us."

"He would never pull his plug to end his own suffering. Unless he thought he was saving us from something. And I'm a little sick of his heroic martyr crap."

In case you missed it, Michael did not know that.  At the beginning of the hospital sequence Isobel is telling Liz what she learned in Max's mindscape and says that she hasn't been able to get ahold of Michael.  Michael figured it out on his own. He finally "got it".

The pacemaker:

Isobel with Max at the end… everything is gone except the Jeep. And Bright Eyes playing (the song he and Liz danced to on their first date back in 2008). And then his eyes close and Bright Eyes fades away.

“First thing I remember is the three of us. We woke up terrified and lost. But together. And then all of the sudden I was alone. I got real good at being alone. I had given up on people entirely. And then you found me again. Hell of hero move. You showed up just in time. When you are a kid who nobody loves, kindness is a currency. Friendship doesn’t means jack. Family just lies, and hurts, and leaves. I’ve only ever known love to be temporary. So yeah, I push people away. Every time someone threatens to care about me I test their love until they have to leave. Connection is conditional. Everybody eventually gives up on the guy who refuses to be rescued. But you were the only one who I couldn’t run off. You never believed me when I tried to be something I wasn’t. So this thing in your chest, it might give your heart a pretty solid kick every once in a while. Consider it payback. It’s my hero move, Max. If you wake up, you consider us even, okay? If you wake up, we can be a family.”

Good visual parallels during Michael's speech. Alex and Kyle drinking together during the "and then you found me again". Maria walking up on "the guy who refuses to be rescued"

Max is in the coma for three weeks.  Wakes up at the secret lab (instead of his house, which is where he was previously.  I'm guessing it was a planned wake up because he's no longer plugged into all of the IVs and whatnot.

"I begged you to understand."

"Max, it's gonna be fine."

"No… I told you to let me go. I can feel it inside me."

"It's...it's symmetry, okay? It's just energy for energy.  We can deal with that. Fight it, Max. This isn't you."

"I don't want to hurt you. I need to get out. I need to get away from you, from everyone."

"I can't let you do that."

Max shoves Isobel and runs. When he shoves her there's a slight ringing like the sound they use when the aliens use their powers.  Isobel follows and stops him with her powers.

"I made a promise that if you came back and you weren't Max, and you were actually going to hurt people that I would kill you. I figure, hey, you got to play God. Make life and death decisions all on your own. Well it's my turn now."

MUSIC:

1. Letters To Cleo "Here and Now"

2. Lady Antebellum "Love Don't Live Here"

3. Cactus Groove "Fallin"

4. James Talley "Big Thunder"

8. Ross Copperman "Stars Are On Your Side"

5. Lindsey Ray "Keep You Safe"

6. Tommee Profitt feat. Sam Tinnesz "With you Til The End"

7. Bright Eyes "First Day Of My Life"

The Cactus Groove song is the first song this season that I haven’t been able to find on Spotify… let me know if any of y’all had any luck with it!

[louadorable126]

Demons(you).me - A Devil May Cry Cyberpunk AU

Click here to read chapter 3 over on Ao3! :D

Hello there!

This is a continuation of my Hanami Week Cyberpunk AU story into its own separate fan fic! :D

I’ve uploaded the first 2 chapters of my original Hanami Week collection, so people can catch up + A 3rd new chapter to enjoy!

I’ll also be including a sample of chapter 3. However, this will spoil some of the major plot points that have happened in the previous two chapters! So please bare this in mind!

Support is very much approached! <3

Anyway without further a do, please enjoy! :D

—————————————————————————

Summary:

In a city controlled by the generally altered race of Demons, Lady's life as a mercenary on the lower floor was never easy. Especially when she ran into Dante. A demon on the hunt for his missing brother.

—————————————————————————

Important information!

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Realtionships: Dante x Lady, Vergil x Lady

Characters: Lady (Devil May Cry), Dante (Devil May Cry), Vergil (Devil May Cry) Morrison (Devil May Cry), Nell Goldstien (Devil May Cry) Eva (Devil May Cry), Sprada (He’s mentioned bless him), Mundus (Also Mentioned)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Genetic Engineering, Sci-fi Fantasy, Strip Clubs and Strippers, Dystopia, Seizures, Flirting, Eva and Sprada are alive! :D, Human Experimentation, Cults.

—————————————————————————

Keep reading for Chapter 3 sample!

For a cityscape covered by a roof, rain certainly seemed like a strange phenomena.

During the installation of the upper floor hundreds of years ago. It soon became apparent that those on the lower floor were starting to grow restless at the loss of their skies. The loss of the sun. The loss of weather.

Tensions between the humans and their new overlords were already strained to begin with, during this not-so-consensual partnership. And soon riots began to break out. Demanding that some sort of nature be returned to them. A small ask, but one that was hard fought by humanity. Thus a system of artificial rain was created to satisfy this desire, to feel the droplets of rain on their skin once more.

Dante certain wasn’t thankful for this, however. He was utterly soaked!

Come on! There’s gotta be one around here somewhere! Dante whined internally. For once in his life, he regretted how scantily clad he was dressed, as rain lashed at his exposed torso. His crimson scarf doing little to prevent dampness leaking through.

He hurriedly sprinted down a series of backroads. On a quest to find a very particular device he was in the need of. Tilting his head left and right, as he scanned each and every area to no avail, at most finding a not-so-hidden drug deal taking place, or a youth testing out their artistic talent with a spray paint can and stencil.

It was only after he ran a few dozen blocks away from Lady’s apartment did he find what he was looking for.

Hidden away on a decent street corner, stood a phone booth. It wasn’t exactly in the best of condition, if Dante had to admit. Sections of its glass windows had been shattered. Peeling punk-rock stickers stuck on every inch of exposed rusted metal. Even the neon sign naming the box's purpose had half of its light not working. The simple word “phone” the only section now illuminated in Fluorescent blue.

But none of that mattered to the demon, as he quickly rushed over to the booth and stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind him. Letting a sigh of relief, as he heard the gentle patter of rainfall on the booth's tin roof. A vague protection from the elements.

“Alright, let's see if this baby’s working!” Dante muttered to himself; grinning confidently. Slipping his pale hand into the change dropper flap and pulling out a small, silver coin; minted with the face of their ‘beloved’ emperor plastered over it. Before inserting it back into the machine with a satisfying clink.

Tapping a series of numbers into the machine’s metallic keypad, Dante causally leaned back against the phone booth's thin, glass walls. Holding the cracked, black plastic phone to his ear, as the gentle jingle of ringing sounds echoing like a choir in song filled the demon’s ears. Patiently for the other to pick his call up on the other end.

“Hello?” Greeted a soft, feminine voice.

“Hey Eva. Its me-“

“Oh Dante you're alright!” Eva cried out loudly. Causing Dante to pullback from the phone in surprise. Before quickly returning it to his ear, when he heard Eva’s light, breathy voice continue; "I was so worried that something had happened to you! You should have called me sooner, you know?!”

“Yeah, sorry about that! Things, uh….got a little complicated.” Dante admitted, with a sheepish smile. Twirling the phone line's curled wire in between his fingers. “I found Vergil by the way. He’s doing ok.”

“That’s good to hear!” Eva rejoiced. "Does that mean you boys will be coming home soon? I’ll start dinner if that’s the case-“

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Eva. But there’s some stuff me and Verge need to sort out here on the lower floor.” Dante explained in a low, gentle voice. Feeling bad for dashing his mother’s high hopes. “Think it's gonna be a while before we come back up topside."

“Oh.” Eva said simply. “Well that’s ok! You boys are at an age where you can fend for yourselves! I mean….I shouldn’t even be involving myself in such matters! But…if you could-“

“What is it Eva?” Dante asked softly. God! Why hadn’t he noticed how motherly she had sounded all these years?

“Can you come home when your father arrives back from Vigrid?” She requested. Her voice uncertain, yet interweaved with hints of eagerness. "I’m sure he’d love to see you!"

Dante nodded earnestly, regardless if his matriarch couldn’t see it. “Of course, Eva. We’ll do that, I promise!”

“Thank you, Dante.” Eva cooed in a pleased voice. Surprisingly clear despite the call's distorting static. “I know you probably have business to take care of. So I won’t keep you any longer!”

Wait-

Dante opened his mouth to speak. A desperate longing to keep this conversation going overwhelming him, as a surge of pent up emotions swelled within his gut. Driving him to admit the truth in his heart.

He wanted to tell Eva that he knew she was his mother. That he didn’t feel any sort of hatred towards her for her actions. That he felt incredibly sorry that she had to watch them grow up, without being able to show the slightest bit of motherly affection. Always having to remain so professional and stoic. That he had treated her as simply a nanny, when deep down, he had always known there were stronger, bolder, richer feelings there-

But he knew he couldn’t say any of this. These were forbidden words. Ones that demonic authorities would quickly pick up on, as an un-encrypted call going to the upper floor.

And if it weren’t the demonic military that would deal a swift end to him, if he said any of this. It sure as hell would be his elder brother, once sleeping beauty had awoken from his slumber!

“Sure. See ya soon, Eva.” Dante uttered in a strained voice.

“Goodbye Dante.” His mother said sweetly, before putting down the phone.

The demon put his phone back on its shoddy metal stand, with a clank. Sighing deeply, he dropped his head down and leaned his forehead against the cool, glass pane across from him; several locks of long snowy hair flopping out from under his damp, red hood. A swirl of complex emotions overwhelming him. Leaving him unable to move, as he desperately tried to process them.

We’ve got some work to do. Haven’t we Verge?

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

Click here to read more over on Ao3! :D

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Animal Instinct + Dead Disco | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

We’re back with another Moth Work update because ya girl has finished two chapters and is here to spill all the tea! If you missed update one, and two, be sure to check them out before reading this one! I’ve been having a bit of cabin fever with this project lately which has made it difficult to really immerse myself into the project. But we’re almost at the 20k mark of this project which is wILD! I never imagined writing so much of this story (which was initially just a guilty pleasure) and I’m happy with how much I’ve learned about my characters just through this small detour in the series.

The first chapter I’ll be updating on is chapter four, ANIMAL INSTINCT. 

This chapter was a giant pain to finish! It had about 5000 revisions mid-draft, and I definitely feel like I had blinkers on when writing it. Because of that, I lost sight of the big picture and really got stuck on the little things, like the writing and overall quality of the project. This was not actually the purpose of Moth Work--it was supposed to be a dumping ground for whatever. However, in this chapter, I became really hyperfocused on all the small details I disliked which made drafting it a month-long process. I’ve now come to a slightly healthier place with quality in this draft, and found a middle ground between trash-dumping and nitpicking. 

What’s it about?

Animal Instinct is a major point of tension for Lonan and Harrison as their goals deviate. This chapter focuses heavily on the volatility of their relationship and highlights Lonan’s current irrational mental state. The title stems from this idea of calculated action for the sake of a single person’s benefit. 

The writing bit: 

I struggled to write this chapter quite a bit. It took me the majority of July to complete because of a major logic problem I kept running into. After struggling for a few days, I finally realized by fleshing out what I’d written initially, I could overwrite the logic problem. The solution took a lot of work/test scenes to figure out, but eventually I got it!

Excerpts:

I shared this excerpt before because it’s one of the only paragraphs I don’t mind in this chapter! I think the flow is a lil funky but I dig the concept! This outlines the last bits of the cabin, specifically Harrison’s final check around the perimeter. 

Around the corner, the back patio is static—like Anna and her son never stopped sitting there. Her bowl of avocado and Greek yogurt—the holistic remedy Emily said would make her glow like an angel—sits gummy and pestered with flies. One of Milo’s toys is wedged under the cheap lawn chair. It haunts him, seeing them while not seeing them, but he leaves everything like it is. Anna and her son will always remain on the patio, Anna with her cheekbones splayed for the moon, Milo babbling mildly about his father like he hasn’t made the connection. They’ve gone invisible.  

After this first scene, Harrison does some driving in the dark which gives me major book three vibes lol, and eventually pulls into a motel somewhere in Nevada. This route from Oregon to Boston makes no sense but I conveniently needed Lonan to end up in Vegas, so!! do it for Vegas!!

In the motel, Harrison meets Jeremiah, his potential new man lol. Harrison is focused on getting in and out of there as quickly as possible, but he’s like dang mans teeth are the straightest I ever did see (me too tho). Because he gets distracted, he fails to notice his car turn off, and only makes the connection after passing it a few times in the parking lot. He minorly paniques as he looks for Lonan, but eventually finds him around the building. 

The scene that follows gets volatile as heck, and really showcases how similar Lonan and Reeve are? Like dang that whole family tho? (Can I join?)

I’m not going to share much of this scene because she gets dramatic, but this is the wildest dialogue I’ve written in a while and I think I’m going to steal it and make Reeve say it because something like this would come out of her mouth:

“Do you feel that, Harrison? I could burn you with a cigarette and call it a wolf bite and nobody would know the difference.” 

sounds normal at first then NOPE

The next chapter (chapter 5) is called Dead Disco:

This chapter came together very quickly because I’d had it basically planned out, however, it veered into an emotional direction I wasn’t expecting. This chapter was supposed to be fun and lighthearted, and it ended up being... not that??  

What’s it about?

After the tragic drama that occurs in the previous chapter, Harrison wakes up the next morning to notice that Lonan has #left and #taken the car. This is v/ not good, but instead of getting super worked up he chooses to chill out at Jeremiah’s place and chill ft. some disco. I meant for it to be cute but Harrison ends up in a mental place I wasn’t expecting, so the chapter feels a bit “derealized” to me. After both Lonan and Harrison head out on their solo endeavors, they meet back up and this encounter ends *badly*. 

Playlist:

July 31st Rachel was feeling very enthusiastic about the playlist for this chapter (I was writing while listening to music) and wrote down a list of songs that describe the progression of this chapter (in order + all Nothing But Thieves because predictable!):

Holding Out For A Hero

Crazy

Afterlife

Hanging

Excuse Me

Forever & Ever More

You Know Me Too Well

I’m Not Made By Design

Amsterdam

Number 13

Itch

Hostage

BUT SHOUTOUT TO: Disco by Surf Curse

Probably the most accurate vibe here lol

Excerpts:

This first excerpt is Harrison angsting hard about missing his friends. I don’t *love* her but I don’t *hate* her! I tried revising it but it... flopped, so here’s the failed revision:

Lonan could say those words and it haunts him, how easily he taints him like a bad omen. There are so many things Emily would tell him to do to cleanse the bad magic, but Harrison recalls none of them properly. He remembers words like moon, and black walnut, and quartz crystal, and cardamom, but can’t think of what to do with any. He wishes he were like Foster, curious enough to carry around a pocket dictionary, or like his mother, clever enough to make something up on a whim. All Harrison can do is bury his face in his palms outside the restaurant and hope no one watches him. The main road bustles by and he wishes to be invisible, like Anna and her son. He wants his friends back. Foster could lull him to consciousness with a quiz on the different kinds of plants, which are edible, which are poisonous. Reeve would split a cigarette with him and scare him back to life with her driving. Emily will never speak to him but at least she’d cast a curse on him, and even that’s better than his nullified state of living. It’s disorienting, to feel asleep while awake. Harrison blinks hard, but everything feels the same—the buildings all shimmering, the people staring barely even people, everything derealized like it’s all been coated in REM. 

(tag urself i’m foster’s pocket dictionary)

This next excerpt outlines Harrison getting turnt with his new man and then getting philosophical? drunk Harrison be Aristotle and Madonna smushed together idk

Harrison knows he shouldn’t drink around a stranger but Jeremiah’s got a handmade bracelet and scribbly tattoos on his forearm so it’s hard not to trust him. Photo prints of hostels in Japan, statues in Europe, cathedrals in Paraguay decorate the walls in perfectly cut rectangles. Each is plumed with a dried flower and it reminds Harrison so much of Emily, he has to look away, back to the Lonan-coloured drink. He studies the shot glass like it isn’t transparent, the grooves around the perimeter, the engraving that reads Cancun 1987. He loses Jeremiah’s absent swish around him, and gets lost in the blue. The trifecta amazes him, how a colour as unnatural as this has manifested in Lonan’s eyes, his earring, this drink. He tips the glass back and finishes it in one go, and even though it’s strong and should taste like artificial blueberries, his mouth is tasteless and numb.

“You live here alone?” Harrison asks, raking his fingers through his hair. The apartment overlooks the strip across the street and Harrison gets lost in it, the artificial signs like bad advertising, the neons ill like influenza. When he looks toward Jeremiah again, his glass is refilled and he has to think hard to remember if he emptied it in the first place. 

This is where Harrison manages to make disco big sad + some lowkey salt at Lonan which is always! a! win!:

Together, they move in a trance, limber and manic. The glass in Harrison’s hand isn’t a weight—it’s a lifeline. The apartment blurs, and waves in slow motion. Harrison doesn’t hear the music or taste the drink; he feels nothing in the ground, and everything in his tongue. His hair swims in his face like Lonan’s, moving like he did in the water, careless in his forehead, his eyes. The pictures on the wall become the pictures in his bedroom, and the blinking doesn’t get rid of them. In his sidesteps with Jeremiah he sees him, in the glass, across the street, under a streetlamp. Taking his cigarettes, his light, his car, his mouth like a cannibal. 

To end this update, here’s some dialogue ft. savagery:

“You’re patronizing me.”

“You’re patronizing yourself.” 

A meme to accompany this lol:

So that’s it for this update! At the time of drafting most of this post (which was a few weeks ago), I wasn’t really feeling this project, however, after writing chapter 6 and switching POVs into Lonan’s head (where there’s lots of messy stuff to work with), I’ve been having a lot of fun!

I’m sorry updates have been slow on this blog--I’m in the process of moving so I’m getting busy, however, I hope to post at least one more update before I go off to school! Thanks for reading. :)

--Rachel

[valentinesirwins]

why won’t you love me? pt. 2

― read part one here.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*

summary:  a chaptered blurb based on the lyrics of the youngblood song. you and ashton have been dating for over four years, but the idea of moving forward is holding you back

warnings: drinking. not much except fluff and some angst 

a/n: sorry for going mia for a moment, got caught up in college stuffs. but there is a lot more of this series coming so look out for it! please feel free to leave feedback :)  — *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

word count: 1,553

The sun was just now beginning to rise; sky painted in shades of orange and pink as you were nearly blinded by the sun peeking over the horizon. You stood at the window; arms crossed over your chest as you kept your eyes glued on the plane that Ashton disappeared in. You couldn’t help but feel guilty as you bit down on the sensitive skin of your cuticles, a habit you formed out of nervousness. Shifting your weight down on your hip, you counted down the seconds until the plane would disappear into the orange-tinted clouds.

ASHTON’S POV

I’ve learned to hate the way the airplane symbol turned orange as I placed my phone face down on the small table beside me. I couldn’t help but imagine her in the seat next to me, curled up in a hoodie that she stole all those years ago. Headphones tangled between oversized sleeves and messy hair, eyelashes resting against the top of her rose-colored cheeks.

Imaginations are a powerful weapon. Before I could make up any more imaginary images of her, I pressed my cheek against the cold glass. The coolness immediately sending chills down my spine. No matter how many times I tried to force my eyes to find her familiar figure standing in front of the window, I could only allow my imagination to do its job.

She was there, probably standing with one hip slouched to the side, arms crossed over her chest. Biting her cuticles despite how many times she’s tried to break the nervous habit.

The false image of her disappeared with the runway. An all too familiar tingle in my nose accompanied the growing lump as I kept my eyes glued on the ground until the clouds replaced her. The sound of my phone vibrating against the leather snapped me out of the trance, only for it to come back at the sight of the screen lighting up.

A beaming smile, the crinkles around bright eyes and a scrunched-up nose. Strands of sun-damaged beach curls covered the left side of her face, which held a beaming smile. The warmth of the crinkles between her bright eyes and scrunched-up nose accompanied by tanned summer skin radiating through the screen.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be lonely”

Just like that, he was gone. Not gone for good, but for a while. Without his touch, without his warmth, his passion, his kindness. Without him. Closing your eyes, you took in the scent of the hoodie, digging your chin into your chest as you held back tears. You imagined sitting on the other side of the row, curled up in the stolen hoodie, too tired to untangle the headphones from your hair.

The imagination is a powerful thing.

The house without Ashton was simply an empty vessel. The light that he brought into the walls was gone. It helped you become aware of how grey the walls were, even with the neon signs and pop art prints. Ash was always notorious for his interior decorating skills.

It was lights out the second you hit the couch, dropping your belongings on the floor and having zero energy even grab your phone. By the time you woke up, the sun was just beginning to set, casting an orange blanket over the living room. Yet, the house was just as cold, even with all this sunlight.

Even if you weren’t missing Ashton, the idea of a burger and fries from your guys’ favorite dinner place was calling your name. Changing into a pair of black leggings and an oversized sweater, this one you bought for yourself. Fixing your half-out bun and swapping it with a slightly neater ponytail, you picked up your backpack off the floor and headed towards the restaurant.

“No Ashton tonight?” Lexi’s familiar smile greeted you as she walked you towards a table.

“He left for the tour this morning” Your voice was still tired from the stifled cries earlier.

“For how long?” She pouted, setting a menu down in front of you before realizing she knew exactly what you were going to order.

“About eight months” You swallowed the lump that began to form in your throat.

“Well distance makes the heart grow fonder” Lexi gave a sweet smile before taking out her notepad and clicking the end of her flower pen against her thigh.

“Usual?” She asked, and you simply nodded. It was all you could do without bursting into tears.

“And instead of the strawberry lemonade, could I get a vodka soda?” You asked before Lexi walked away, flashing her a “thank you” smile before fishing out your phone from the backpack.

Still no text or call from Ash. He was probably still in the air. Because of the lack of crowd, Lexi was back with a vodka soda and water in less than five minutes. You thanked her before quenching your thirst with vodka rather than water, a familiar warmness hitting your chest as you downed half of the drink.

The lingering sting numbed you slowly as you stared at the passing cars. Tuesday nights in Los Angeles never got too crazy, there was still traffic, but that’ll be there until the day we die. You were on your second glass when Lexi came out with the blue cheeseburger and fries, with a side of ranch of course.

A little less than half of your burger was held in a Styrofoam box as you ordered a Lyft to take you home. Lexi had to stop you from ordering another drink as you waited in the lobby. Ashton always hated when you insisted on taking yourself home. He always won the argument, but the more times you walked down the cool streets of Los Angeles with Ashton’s leather jacket around your shoulders and his hand around your waist, the more you wanted him to take you home.

You wanted nothing more than to lean into his warmth as you sat back in the Lyft, sitting in awkward silence the entire ride. Quietly thanking him, you stepped out of the car and shivered at the cold February air nipping at your exposed skin. 

The house wasn’t much warmer as you set down your wallet and keys on the island and stumbled towards the wine fridge. A couple of glasses of Pinot Grigio always warms the soul. Sinking into the slate grey couch with a bottle of wine in one hand and a glass in the other, you set the items down on the small table in front of you. After pouring a hearty glass of wine, you replaced the bottle with the remote to the TV, queuing up The Office before leaning back into the cushions.

It wasn’t long until you found yourself wrapped up in the blanket that was once neatly folded over the top of the couch. The bottle was empty, your mouth was sour with the taste of warm alcohol, head fuzzy with the numb thoughts of Ashton fading away just as fast as your consciousness.

The sound of the familiar piano chords of The Office opening coinciding with your ringtone buzzing between the couch cushions was simply not enough to shake you from falling in and out of sleep. Rather than spending your last few bits of energy to answer the phone, you just hoped it would stop ringing so you could finally fall asleep. The second the last notification rung out; your head hit the pillow with an audible, soft thunk.

―

It seemed as if the last and first ringers of the day were a mere few moments apart. This time, rather than your ringtone buzzing between the cushion, it was that awful sound of the iPhone Radar alarm tone. The alarm tone that was supposed to notify you to leave for work.

The second this realization hit your eyes burst open, instantly burning at the sensation of the morning sun hitting your pupils. Your head pounded as you jolted up from the couch, stumbling over your own feet as you ran to the bathroom. 

With a quick one-minute brush of both your hair and teeth, you jogged to the bedroom and quickly chose an outfit consisting of black and white pin-striped pants and a white blouse, slipping on a pair of black velvet booties and a red blazer.

With a quick application of mascara, bronzer, lip gloss, and a pencil through your eyebrows, you packed your wallet, keys, and phone into your work bag before rushing out the door. As you pulled into the nearly full parking lot, you pulled down the visor mirror and gave yourself one last check before entering the bustling building.

The sensation of your co-workers’ burning glares burned your skin as you nearly jogged to your office, praying that your boss wasn’t in today as you shakily unlocked the door and threw yourself into the room. Closing the door behind you, the idea of checking your phone hadn’t even crossed your mind until you finally had a moment to pull yourself together.

Sitting in front of the stack of papers as you waited for your computer to start up, you dug your phone out of your purse and plugged it into the desk-side charger. Scrolling through the dozens of notifications, the oldest one caused your stomach to jump to your throat. 

ash ♡´･ᴗ･`♡- Missed Call (3) 3:04am

[fmdjoosungarchive]

date: january 23rd

word count: 638

warnings: lots and lots of religious talk

tldr; sung almost feels like money is more his creative project than in sensitivity, which was more in his creative realm

sung walked into the warehouse, and his eyes widened. so much had been done before he even arrived. crew swirled around, moving furniture, setting up cameras, talking amongst themselves. it was a massive place, and the decorations were... perfect.

he hadn’t thought about it, honestly. the group had been so busy with touring and tour preparation, that the thought of what the set might look like didn’t come to mind. in a way, it was nicer to just pick a composition from a list of tracks. there wasn’t any thought behind it besides what he wanted for himself as an artist. there was also none of his own creativity, on that part of the song, but it wasn’t bad. somehow, he almost felt like they’d given him more control here.

on top of a wall, there was a neon sign that said, “how bad do you want it,” like someone, some part of this creative team, took his lyrics, took his meaning, and understood it. the warehouse was filled with stuff. material possessions, unneeded, unwanted, but still existing in the space he’d occupy. but mostly, he was drawn to a massive cross. it was leaning against the corner of a wall, “jesus saves”. sung tiptoed across the cement to approach it, and laid a hand over the top. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think the creative director must have been inside his head.

money was a fickle thing. it wanted, and rarely gave. he’d gone through so many phases in his life, of how he related to money, but he always came back, when His light guided him. the material world meant nothing, because it was the soul that nourishes.

he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he jumped. it was the stylist, asking him to come around to the fitting area. sung didn’t have much time to spend over days to do proper fittings, so they were doing it now. the company had his measurements, so he was never worried about clothing fitting. it was more to figure out what would suit him, and the video. he’d be using those clothes, more than likely, for the stages as well, so they needed to be perfectly matched.

his heart rate raced, when she put him in lace. it settled, when she put him in a suit, stylishly too big. but, it was when he popped his head through a black sweater with feather tufts, that he saw a glint of silver. his hand reached out, and pulled out a cross. it came with another, linked together by chain. the metal was chilled from sitting out, but it felt warm against his fingertips.

he turned to the stylist, “can i wear this? maybe like--” he paused, to hold the chain up to his hips, like a belt, and looked back up at her.

it tied everything together, literally and figuratively. there was something about it that made him feel represented, like expressing himself was worth it. maybe it had something to do with having less of a rush to this comeback. he wasn’t staying up all night to create songs, just to be shot down by the company. this was something that was his, even if he didn’t create it originally.

he stood in front of the monitor at the end of the shoot, watching through the shots they’d taken. he saw himself, letting out his frustration into the dance he created, pouring out his feelings into every move. but, he also saw it in the subtlety. he saw it, as his body rose off of of the ground, sky high and curved, open. the crosses fell from his body, gravity taking them down. they were barely in frame, until they were silhouetted by the backlight streaming in from the windows.

“that’s it. that’s the one.”