#//really loved messing around with the hair options and how the combo turned out. it looks so nice

[mechahero]

THERE HE IS MY SWEET SUMMER GUY (dollmaker link)

[daydreamingoftomorrow-blog]

Single Dad AU

I for some reason really like single dad AUs so here is something I wrote. No clue what do for a title or if I want to make this into a full fic.

Asahi and his five year old daughter, Yuki got off the plane entering the busy airport. He carried her on his hip for fear of losing her in the big crowd. Asahi made the way to baggage claim to receive their suitcases. It was the middle of winter and extremely cold. Some of his friends back home thought he was crazy for moving to the US, much less to the midwest where the winters were harsh. Asahi wanted a new place for him and Yuki. Japan brought too many challenges for his clothing business. He wanted to raise his daughter in a small town where the community was strong and not much went on. They exited the airport and went to the parking garage where his new car was parked and unlocked it, he put Yuki in the carseat and buckled her in. She was severely jet lagged so she passed out as soon as he sat her in the seat. He hopped into the drivers side and started driving to their new home or actually apartment since he hasn’t been here in person to look at any houses. Asahi had the heat blasting in his car and could still feel the cold in his bones. He glanced back at Yuki in the rear view mirror, she was still fast asleep curled up in her coat. After about an hour of driving they made it to their new town. It only had about 10,000 people and driving through it only took about ten minutes. Their apartment complex was near the north end of town, he tried to pick the nicest apartment complex he could. He parked in his assigned space and went around back to wake Yuki before picking her up and walking up the stairs to their new home. It wasn't a big apartment with small bedrooms, a kitchen/ dining room combo, and a small living room barely big enough for a decent size couch and TV. He will get something bigger soon he thought, setting Yuki on the floor, she was barely awake now. Asahi heard the furniture store truck pull up in the parking lot.

“Yuki please stay here while I go get our furniture.” He says trying to find a place for her to be while they unload all the stuff. The coach and love seat of course arrived put together however nothing else did. As soon as the living room furniture was put into the place and the rest of the boxes unloaded outside the truck the store employees left. Asahi sighed to himself thinking how he was going to get all that stuff upstairs. He pushed all of it to the sidewalk so at least it was out of the way of the parking lot. Just as he pushed the last box onto the sidewalk a silver Charger pulled into a spot next to his car and a you got out in scrubs and a hoodie looking tired, but stopped to look at the new car next to yours. You noticed all the boxes on the sidewalk and an out of breath Asahi.

“Sir? Are you by yourself moving all this?” You asked, walking up to the row of boxes. He nodded too out of breath and tried to form any english words right now. “Do you want some help?” You asked. This time he shook his head and finally had enough breath to form a sentence.

“No thank you, I don’t want to bother anyone.” He said with a thick japanese accent. You found it cute, but cleared her head before speaking.

“Okay well I assume you're my new neighbor on the second floor? I am right next door if you change your mind.” you say walking up the stairs to your apartment. It was Asahi’s choice to move here so he figures it’s no one else's responsibility to help. He starts with the box that has Yuki’s bed fully intending on getting her bedroom put together today. He started by pulling the box with him as he walked backwards up the stairs. Just as he was about fully up them he let go to adjust his grip to turn the box on the flat floor and the box went tumbling down the stairs loudly. Asahi sighed in frustration and started his way back down the stairs to try again. Just then you open your apartment door now wearing green athletic leggings and the same hoodie. Hearing the ruckus outside and decided you are helping now. You walked down the stairs and got on the opposite side of the box as Asahi.

“I am sorry! I know that was loud.” He said bowing. You waved your hands in front of you. Being an American not used to bowing made her flush a little.

“Don’t worry, but you need help so please let me. You don’t have to pay me or anything.” you say starting to push the box up the stairs while Asahi pulls. He is going to do something to pay you back, he thought. As soon as they entered his apartment you noticed a little girl sitting on the floor playing on a phone. She is very cute with long brown almost black hair braided down her back and a fluffy pink coat that almost looks too big on her.

“This is my daughter Yuki.” Asahi says walking behind and crouching down and putting his hand on her head to get her attention to look up. She did and gave a shy wave and looked back at the phone. You did the same back and Asahi realized he never introduced himself. “Oh and I am Azumane Asahi.” He says nervously, you liked his name.

“I am Y/n” you say, holding out your hand. “Nice to meet you Azumane.” Asahi took your hand and shook it and for a brief moment he liked the way you said his name. You knew quite a bit about asain culture and knew that Azumane was a last name. You held yourself back from adding the san at the end, you were sure he was older than you. Asahi and you spent the rest of the afternoon getting all the boxes at least up into the apartment so that they could shut the door and keep the heat in. The apartment was a cluttered mess so Y/n helped move the respected boxes to their rooms. Just as they opened the box for Yuki’s bed she ran to her dad.

“Papa onaka ga suita!” She said. Little did Asahi know that you knew exactly what she said. She’s hungry.

“I could whip something up at my place or order something for us if you want.” You offered to pull out her phone to look at the restaurants that deliver which aren’t a lot around here.

“You have done enough for us.” Asahi paused. “You understood her?” He asked, shocked. You were not about to tell him you were an Otaku and you learned Japanese so that you didn’t have to read subtitles to watch anime.

“I took a class.” You lied not wanting to look weird. It was kinda the truth though. It was an online class.

“Well that’s good that one person can understand us. I know English pretty well, but Yuki is not so good yet.” He says with a shy smile.

“Daddy!” Yuki whines to remind Asahi she is hungry.

“Let me treat you as a thank you for helping us.” Asahi says not to give you time to protest getting his phone from Yuki. “What would be the easiest to eat without plates or silverware?” He asked

“Um pizza. Order Pizza Hut, it’s the best.” You say continuing to open the box while he downloads the app to order. Everyone decided cheese would be the best option. As you and Asahi waited the two of you slowly put the bed together since the instructions were hard to understand in both English and Japanese. You guys got it together just as the pizza arrived you did go back to your apartment to grab some cups for the pop he ordered. You all sat on the floor and ate your pizza in comfortable silence. You stayed and helped put the rest of Yuki’s bedroom together. All that was left was to decorate it. It glanced at your phone and noticed it was almost ten o’clock. You have work the next morning.

“Azumane, can I come help you tomorrow? I have to get up early for work.” You say politely.

“No problem, it’s late and I need to get Yuki to bed anyway..” He trailed off not really sure what else to say other than thank you which has probably said a thousand times by now. You gave him a smile that automatically relaxed him. He hasn’t been around many women other than Yuki’s mom. You made your way to the front door and put your shoes on. He just realized you did that out of respect for him and blushed a little. You said good night to Asahi and went to say good night to Yuki, but she passed out on the couch with Asahi's dead phone on her chest. You smiled at the cute girl and left their apartment and went next door to yours.

[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

Vampire Master-Guide

First of all I want to start off by saying I've gathered inspiration from MANY vampire medias. Fictions, games. The biggest influences are Vampire the masquerade (primarily bloodlines) and Vampire Knight (manga). As well as honorable mentions to Vampyr (game), Queen of the Damned (movie) and Van Helsing (movie, anime). So if anything sounds familiar, chances are it is. I highly encourage you to explore them as they are a few of my favorites.

Second of all this is going to be massive, so I'll be putting it under a cut. But it will be a comprehensive guide to my personal vampire lore that I've crafted and worked with through the years. If you like it, feel free to use it! I'd absolutely love to be tagged (so I can shower the creations with praise) but it's not required. I'm just out here making one more version of vampires that hopefully inspires you. There will be a couple different categories that I will touch base on.

History (this part is super short)

Physicality - Medical Information

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Mental Effects

Society

Anything from my vampire lore will be tagged #vlor

Now follow me under the cut, lovelies. But please be Warned: We'll be discussing blood, violence, physical and mental illness. As well as regular vampire related things. If any of this could trigger you, please kindly skip this post because you're far more important to me!

'History'

The original vampire to walk the earth, cursed by the heavens was Caine. After committing the first murder, a blood-soaked punishment was to forever be banished to walk the darkness with a constant reminder of his crimes. Thirst. Craving for the same blood he shed against his own kin. The sin was carried through the years and he came upon another outcast kindred by the name of Lilith, cursed by God in a different way and hexed with powerful disciplines.

They bonded as kine and Lilith taught her chaos to Caine in hopes they'd rule together. In the end his nature stayed true and his now empowered wrath befalls Lilith, committing murder yet again and taking her life.

To feed upon and be fed, was a now animalistic instinct that spoke louder than supposed human nature ever could. And thus the curse spread. To anyone that drinks from the tainted or is bitten by a rabid, is surely to bear it at the final heartbeat. The path to redemption is sealed but survival is nearly infinite. So long as the beast is obeyed and satisfied, there is no constraint on lifespan. They will be damned to an eternity enslaved to thirst.

(Primarily from VTMB but I really like the idea of it being some sort of ancient curse from the gods so I thought I'd include this tiny historical bit. Onto the good stuff.)

Physicality - Medical Information

Vampires are anemic, let's just establish that all vampires are what modern day medicine would consider anemia. But they also have super aggressive red blood cells that function x100 that of human white blood cells. All in one combo of super cells. No illness spreads. No disease can contract, nothing can live in their system. They don't fall ill with colds or flu. STD's aren't feasible. Their systems are far too strong and combative to infections, bacteria.

Their integumentary systems regenerate about x200 - x300 times faster. Within seconds (if there is or has been fresh blood in the system recently) their skin regenerates and goes even beyond that. Mere hours and limbs grow back, bones realign.

Vampires don't have functioning organs. (If they are turned from humans they are there but they don't work and will eventually wither.) Hearts don't beat, lungs have no need for air.

Vampires can't drown. They don't breathe and even if water fills their lungs, they would be weighted down but not die. They also don't float like humans do naturally.

Vampires can go out in the sun but they have hard times with sun poisoning. Think of a sunburn but more like a rash. They can't process the vitamin D very well and almost all of them have trouble with getting severely burnt very rapidly or having a rash from the sun. Prolonged exposure can make them feverish, nauseated and give them body cramps and fatigue. Even longer can make them violently ill and can essentially melt their skin. It can be healed but takes longer.

Staking their hearts immobilizes them but does NOT kill them. They can be detained this way and it is excruciatingly painful. But it doesn't kill you.

Vampires can't eat food. Only few can consume liquids aside from blood. They have no ability to digest it and no longer make acid. They'll usually heave it up along with whatever blood content is left in their gut.

They have perfect eyesight, hearing, hyper senses of taste and smell. Touch is extremely sensitive as well. Their skin isn't fragile, in fact it's a bit thicker than average skin from how fast it regenerates and is constantly maintaining itself.

They are very resistant but not impossible to scar. Scars from human life are erased with first turning.

Vampire blood tastes like flat soda or icky, room temperature tap water. Unpleasant to other vampires but in a desperate pinch, it will sustain but nowhere near as good as foreign blood does. Even animal blood takes better care of a vampires system than another body of recycled blood. (Think of it as they've already taken the good stuff out of it for their own bodies so all that's left is the taste and a few stray nutrients.)

Vampires fangs grow back indefinite. At about x10 the rate of humans losing and replacing their first set. No matter what comes of them, their fangs will always grow back. No other teeth mutate like this.

Fangs lengthen and retract when around blood or not. It's not something that can be helped or even trained out. When blood is present, fangs will lengthen even if there is no intention to feed. Automatic reaction and a painful one at that. They get used to it but it's a sharp pain like having a human tooth extracted but it doesn't have prolonged swelling or discomfort. Only when getting longer or retracting back in.

Whenever they're in bloodlust or a state of starvation, they gain a sense of x-ray vision but instead it's vein mapping. They can see through skin to arteries and if it's severe blood lust, they can even see the smaller, tinier veins in fingers and faces. This is a sight that ever vampire possesses in order to obtain blood easier or figure out a good place to bite. Anything that is living will be seen in a structure of veins. Animals, humans, other vampires.

Severing the brain stem from the body is one of the few sure-fire way to kill a vampire. Alternatively burning them to pure ash and scattering them or holding them in separate vessels. (If ALL ashes are contained somehow and mixed with fresh blood, there is a reanimation process so beheading them is more permanent.) Silver weapons or exposure to silver prior to wound can result in death as well.

Alcohol is SUPER effective when they drink it. Think of one shot making them drunk because it hits their bloodstream almost immediately. A double would have them seeing double and acting like a hot mess. 3+ for even the beefiest of men would have them blacked out and vomiting on the sidewalks.

Drugs effect them but only in extremely high doses and for nothing really over 2 hours or so. Short, short longevity but they have the same crash that humans do. If it's hard detoxing symptoms for humans, it's the same but faster. They can do a hard drug, feel the high for maybe 1 - 2 hours and immediately go into hallucinating and shaking from the aftermath. The same goes for Pharmacia. There's really no medicine that works.

Garlic is a myth. So is wolfsbane.

Silver on the other hand is a very real, very deadly weapon that still rings true. A single pinprick of a silver sewing needle and it can render a vampire powerless. Slow them down to the speed of a human, take away their rapid healing and remove all of their heightened senses. Silver directly into the bloodstream essentially renders them as they were before they turned in physical response and structure. It's the only metal that burns vampires skin and will char it if it sits in one spot for too long. Silver is the only kind of metal that can forge chain that vampires cannot break and can successfully be restrained in. Any wounds inflicted in silver take longer to heal.

They can't reproduce after being turned. Purebloods + Purebloods are the only exception and it's still extremely rare. (Only 9 children born in over 2,500+ years.)

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Whatever color their eyes are, blood-lust accentuates the brightest color. I.e: Brown eyes turn Yellow/Gold, Blue eyes turn White/Purple exct. (Different powers can change this depending on the vampire and their history, sire.) Just think neon, glowing eyes in the dark if they're thirsty or hunting.

They stay frozen in whatever physical appearance they're turned in. Their metabolism is whack so they don't really lose or gain weight, it's down to cosmetic changes or cosmetic surgery. Which at least it heals flawlessly and doesn't ever change. But there aren't many options for personally invested physical change.

Their hair and nails grow super fast.

Vampires usually have the hair color they have when they are turned but around 15% experience graying or whitening of their hair within a few days of turning. Due to a semi-common genetic string in humans.

Vampires don't tan. They burn. No matter what their skin color is. Most are the palest/pasty tone of their natural skin color merely due to anemia and lack of blood circulation.

They don't blush or show physical signs of fever.

Vampires don't sweat or flush when exerting or exercising. They don't have to regulate their body temperatures.

They get dry skin pretty often and it's important to combat it with baths and soaks and lotions/oils whenever possible.

They are usually a lukewarm body temperature. As low as 15°C|59°F to as much as 21°C|69.8°F.

Every vampire has a certain amount of charming allure to them. In whatever form or fashion suits them the best, it's a natural attractant to their human counterparts. A glint to their eyes, a certain smile, the pitch or timbre of their voice. Endearing, seductive, mysterious, whichever shines through in their personality. They are magnetic, attractive to the human eye, no matter what they tend to look like.

They can see themselves in aluminum coated mirrors. Just not silver.

Mental Effects

There is a staggering 95% probability that 'created' vampires will have amnesia unless turned by a pureblood/noble/king/queen/high ranking blood vampire. They remember nothing of their human lives and this is extremely common. It's actually very rare to remember anything prior to your awakening. (That's why there are usually strict laws about siring without consent and proof of consent.)

It is very easy for vampires to be blinded by fits of rage when starving for blood. They can fly into blind anger and attack people they normally wouldn't or even foes they have no chance of winning against. Depending on their remaining strength when this tipping point of starvation happens; it can be extremely dangerous to be around.

Most turned vampires suffer a psychotic break in their early turning years. (Between 6mo and up to 25 years of awakening age. I.e: from the date of being bitten.) The brain is the last thing to be altered in the physical process and because of this, it's believed that their mental state has to crumble to be built better. It's unknown as to exactly why this happens but it's almost guaranteed. It's the vampire equivalent of 'adolescence'.

Over 75% of vampires experience periodic depression and random bouts of sadness. Another 39% live with bouts of mild to moderate psychosis. (This has been suspected to happen because of the physical stasis and improper circulation of chemicals/hormones/exct. Many believe it's because of the guilt of their King, Caine.)

Mental illnesses that aren't born from physical imbalances are in cases of amnesia, cured. Those that are chemically related are usually worsened by the stagnant physical changes of vampirism. It's rare that those with amnesia remember their traumas or emotional upsets after turning.

The "amnesia" of turning is the death of a human psyche. With the staggering rate of permanent amnesia, it is hard to figure out exactly how it happens but it's widely known.

Society

Humans are not fully aware of vampires. This still rings true with the fear of world war and or wiping out the human race given their species.

There is a high society "government" type of monarchy. Each clan or type of vampires has a leader "elder". This is usually the oldest vampire to date of that specific type. Sometimes it's a group or a family of elders. In most modern day they have adapted to a more "presidential" route and have to establish themselves as leader types to be considered for any kind of law making or enforcement. (I.e: Noble bloodline, diligent efforts of servitude such as public service, military or other.)

There is a strict law against turning humans. Vampires are required to have clearly given consent and the process is to be looked over by an elder or enforcer. They must show strenuous documentation of that persons preservation in the name of probable amnesia. They must have a comprehensive processing of that persons interests, personality traits, societal standing, proof of occupational termination, familial status and situational agreement. (Basically they don't want humans forgetting their lives entirely and they want to make sure that they are able to move somewhere or hide from their families until they're well trained enough to be around them again. It's a very long to legally accomplish it.

Every city handles turning differently. Some require the sire to pay the death penalty and others are strictly against killing the one person responsible of their turned kindred.

Vampires are in every day jobs, doing anything and everything that humans do. From trash collecting, to law and doctors. Fame, fortune, poor, criminal; they all live as many walks of life as humans do.

Anti-vampire establishments are alive and well. Most are run by other vampires. Some humans share their beliefs but most typically it's a resounding amount of vampire extremists. This is legal due to the fact that they try to adhere and coexist for their sanctions ordinance. Helping enforce justice for their regions and implore an opposing force for rampaging vampires or other law breaking kindred.

Most human killings are covered up, tampered with or has someone on the inside working on doing both. It's a constant job but a needed one to keep their existence safe from being proven.

There is a massive shortage on vampire doctors serving other vampires or studying from what little information there is on vampirism. The ratio looking like 1 to 300. 1 doctor for every 300 vampires.

The most vampire dominated and lucrative occupations are generally law, publishing and sex working. There are 3 vampires with these jobs to every human worker.

Here is an additional post about how vampire blood would effect humans.

So that was everything I could think of for the time being. I may continue to edit and update this as I have time or I think of something that I haven't touched base on yet. But this is just the general lore I work with when I do write about vampires or when I think about them in general. Feel free to skip certain parts or like.. adapt it however you'd like. I made this to more so inspire people not to show a list of HOW things should go. Take of it what you like and ignore what you don't! Add more if you think of something!

Some of it gets a bit random but it's still things that I've either incorporated in some unpublished fics or talked about with some friends or just fantasized about in general. There's bits and pieces in all media for vampires that I really enjoy and I think every new style spins something different and makes for wonderful content!

[kisskeiji]

5. Lifeboats.

Lost & Found.

WARNINGS: language, alcohol consumption,suggestive (but not really)

“So you’re telling me that you are going to Miya’s high school reunion because he wanted you to meet his friends?” Oikawa took a sip from his mug after asking with an inquiring tone. You were getting ready for Atsumu and Osamu to pick you up, fighting the urge to cancel on them but it was out of the question, they were supposed to be at your door in less than twenty minutes. 

“Yes, and I’m close to rip my hair off.” You ran your fingers through your hair and huffed.

“You look pretty with your hair down Y/N!” Bokuto assured you. “Right, love?” He asked Akaashi who turned back and nodded in agreement. Oikawa thought it was a good idea to invite them to the call for “emotional support” but in reality they were just making fun of you and your current crisis, Akaashi and Oikawa were a dangerous combo. You brushed your hair down and stared at yourself in the mirror. ‘What am I even doing?’ You couldn’t think of anything except how awkward things could get and many different ways you could mess up at dinner. 

“You look constipated, Y/N-chan.” Oikawa mocked. He was lucky he was on the other side of the world. “I know what you are thinking and turning that invitation down is not an option.”  You hated how easy he could read you, but considering your current state and how heavy you were breathing trying to calm yourself it wasn’t hard to know how anxious you were. You thought it was ridiculous, Atsumu was being a good friend, you weren’t going out alone and it was just dinner with his friends. Why were you so uneasy? 

“I never thought Miya would like Y/N.” Akaashi teased. 

“He doesn’t like me, he is trying to be nice, and what does that even mean? You are not helping, Keiji.” You retorted and the three men laughed at you. “It’s going to be awkward, why would he invite me to a high school reunion?” 

“Didn’t he say something about Ojiro's girlfriend? She is really funny! And Ojiro is a nice guy, I promise you there’s never an awkward moment with them.” Bokuto encouraged you and you smiled, but the list of things that could go wrong was still present on your mind. You talked for a few more minutes while you added the final touches to your make up and sprayed perfume on your wrists and the back of your ears. Your phone screen lit up showing a message from Atsumu saying they were outside. 

“They are here.” You announced and looked at your laptop.

“Go have fun, Y/N, you can drink wine with someone other than me.” Akaashi held his glass up for you to see. “I already started.” 

“Don’t drink too much.” You warned. “I’ll talk to you guys later.” They wished you luck and ended the call.You roamed through your apartment looking for your purse and keys. You locked the door and walked down the hallway to the elevator, your hands were sweating a little and you swore your eye just twitched. You always struggled with meeting new people and the circumstances of this meeting did everything ten times more awkward. Again, what were you thinking when you agreed? Nothing, exactly, just the look on Atsumu’s eyes and how even in the dark they shined with expectation. You couldn’t turn him down. 

You spotted Atsumu waiting for you resting his weight on his car, arms crossed and hair carefully styled. Your mouth almost dropped at the sight, you always see him in gym clothes or the team uniform, trying to keep your walk steady, you focused your attention and how uncomfortable your shoes were — It was an impulse buy, but they were so cute you told yourself you could endure the pain. Atsumu waved at you and opened the door right before you reached his car. “Hey.” He said almost sighing. He was just as stunned as you but wasn’t really trying to hide it. You noticed how he checked you out at first glance but stopped himself halfway trying to keep his cool. 

“Hi.” You greeted nervously and looked away, noticing Osamu on the backseat. “Hi, Osamu.” He had a lazy grin on his face and his hands rested on his knees before he waved at you. “You can take the front seat if you want to.” You offered. 

“No!” Atsumu was quick to respond for his brother, earning a curious look from you. “I mean, he already offered to take the backseat for you! Right, ‘Samu?” He looked at his twin hoping for him to play along. It was not like Atsumu forced him to sit on the back right before you walked out of your building. 

“ ‘Tsumu is right. It would have been impolite from us to have you sit on the back.” Once again,  Osamu saved his brother’s ass from an awkward situation. If only you knew that Atsumu was just as nervous as you and Osamu teasing him nonstop was not helping his case. He went from excited to a pit of nerves in less than twenty minutes. Maybe it wasn’t a great idea to have you meet his friends on your first date, especially when Osamu and Suna were going to be there. Did he just say date?  It was definitely not a date, but it felt like so. Everyone would think you two were dating when you just met a little bit over a month ago. He didn’t think this through, but it was too late, you were already in his car sitting right beside him on your way to Aran’s house having a small talk with his brother about his week in the restaurant. 

“You are going to get along well with Hana-san, you have the same dry sense of humor as her.” Osamu said, running his hand through his hair. 

“What do you mean? My sense of humor is not dry at all.” You looked back, clearly offended. “Atsumu, is my sense of humor dry?” You asked now looking at him. He smiled and tried to avoid the question. 

“I’m driving, I can’t answer.”

“You drive with your mouth?” You deadpanned and both men laughed. 

“See?” Osamu said as if he was proving a point.

“See what? You clearly can’t differentiate sarcasm from dry humor.” You crossed your arms and huffed. 

“If it makes you feel better I think you are funny.” Atsumu nudged your arm once he reached the stop sign and you almost gave in and smiled. 

“I don’t need your pity, Miya.” You looked through your window, trying to ignore his playful gaze and the grin plastered on Atsumu’s face. He knew what you were doing so he poked your side making you jolt on your seat. You were ready to poke him back when the red light turned green. 

“I’ll get my revenge later.” You announced making him laugh. Osamu watched the whole thing from his seat. ‘I feel like I am interrupting something.’ He thought and smiled to himself, the unfamiliar feeling of third wheeling taking over at the sight of his brother having fun with you. Once again, it felt like you met years ago, maybe because Atsumu would never shut up about you or how bright he smiled at you, it was just right. Like Bokuto, Osamu started thinking that his brother and you would look good together. The fun was cut short when Atsumu pulled over in front of Aran's house, he asked you to wait for him to open the door for you. 

“Chivalry is not dead.” Osamu whispered to his brother who just elbowed him to shut him up. You three walked to the door and Atsumu rang the bell. “You look like you want to throw up.” The gray haired twin said and you let out all the air you were holding in. 

“You have such a way with words.” You leaned on your right side and remembered Bokuto’s words, they were nice people, you shouldn’t stress too much. After a few seconds a man with gray hair and dark tips opened the door. 

“Kita-san!” Atsumu cheered. Kita greeted them both and exchanged a few words, you fading in the back without really listening to their conversation and waiting awkwardly when you heard Atsumu say: “This is my friend Y/N.”  You adjusted your purse under your arm and bowed with your head, Kita returned the gesture and reached to shake your hand. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” Blood rushed to your ears under his intense gaze, he looked so calm and put together, but his brown eyes were definitely intimidating. “Come on in, Aran and Hana are busy in the kitchen.” You walked in first and took your shoes off and looked around spotting two men sitting on the couch having a small talk. “The twins are here.” Kita announced and both of them turned their attention to the ex-volleyball captain. 

“Late as always.” The one with silver hair joked, Atsumu and Osamu  walked past you to greet their old teammates with a hug. 

“We are not late, you came here too early.” Atsumu retorted. “Y/N this is Ginjima and the one about to stick his tongue down to my brother’s throat is Suna.” Before you could introduce yourself Suna smacked the back of Atsumu’s head. 

“You are so vulgar.” Atsumu rubbed the spot where Suna had hit him trying to sooth the pain. Suna looked familiar for some reason. Narrow eyes and tall figure, you must have seen him somewhere. You didn’t failed to notice Osamu’s arm sneaking around Suna’s waist, that’s when you realized you sure looked dumb standing there staring at the five men in front of you, but could they blame you? They were towering over you. The scene was terrifying from an outside view, lucky for you the house owners walked out the kitchen to welcome you. 

“What are you guys doing to this poor girl?” A tall woman asked standing right beside you. “You must be Y/N! I’m Hana, I am so excited to finally meet you after the twins came in talking nonstop about you.” She extended her hand for you to shake. 

“They did?” You smiled and felt a reassuring squeeze on your hand, an unspoken ‘I am here.’ Her presence was warm just like her smile. “Y/N L/N, they also told me a lot about you, it is a pleasure to meet you.”  

“I know the twins are already a handful, but when they are all together is a disaster, you can have all the wine you need.” She whispered in your ear and you two shared a laugh.

 “See, Aran-kun? I told you they were going to get along well.” Atsumu sat on the couch and crossed his legs. Right, you still haven’t greeted him, you looked around and found him standing behind Hana. ‘Way to go.’  

“I am so sorry.” You bowed. “ Thank you so much for having me tonight.”  

“Thank you for coming. Please make yourself at home.” He bowed back before Ginjima and Atsumu jumped on him to give him a hug. “Come on, we saw each other last week.” He said, taking a step back to support the weight of the two men. 

“The twins mentioned that you were a bartender back then! We just finished our new bar, wanna see?” Hana asked. You nodded and spared a glance to the rest of the boys in the room and excused yourself to follow Hana. She guided you to the kitchen and you noticed the racks hanging beside the lightbox displaying the wine glasses, the warm lighting made the wide place feel more cozy despite the minimalist decorations. “Here it is, Aran knows nothing about wine or liquor but one of his teammates has a bar, so he decided we needed one.” She opened a cabinet revealing a collection of bottles and a wine cooler. 

“Really? But you have such a nice selection here.” You peaked through the fridge glass to see the bottles tempering. “It was a good decision then, it is so pretty.” When you looked at Hana she had her arms crossed and a faint smile on her face. 

“Don’t let him hear you, it will get to his head.” 

“I heard that!” Aran entered the kitchen. “So, what do you think about my baby?” He walked closer to where you were standing, looking at his collection proudly, Hana rolled her eyes and elbowed him. 

“I was just telling Hana-san that your collection was really nice, you have good taste.” His smile grew wider and he thanked you. 

“Too much for someone who can’t drink ten out of twelve months a year.” Hana added and Aran side hugged her and kissed her temple. You smiled at the sight but something made you avert your gaze back to the cabinet, this time focusing on the gold utensils nicely displayed at the bottom. “You can touch, it won’t bite.” Hana said. “And I won’t complain if you make some cocktails.” She inched closer to you and nudged your shoulder making you laugh. 

“We’ll see.” You helped Hana to set the charcuterie boards on the kitchen island, and Aran insisted on you choosing the wine since most of them couldn’t drink, having a small chat with both of them and getting to know each other you learned that they were together since high school and were actually engaged but no plans were made yet since Aran’s career was still starting and they wanted to wait a little more. They worked together so well, not only with each other but their space, the house matched their energy perfectly, they gave you the familiarity you craved ever since you moved. For the first time in a month you were not alone on a friday night downing whatever alcohol you had in hand, and you were thankful for their company, in the end — like always— Bokuto was right, they were nice people.

“We are starving over here!” Osamu yelled. 

“That sounds like a personal problem!” Hana yelled back without looking away from the cutting board. The other five men joined shortly after and took their seats on the stools. You were facing away from them, pouring a mix of alcohol and lime juice in two glass cups you previously filled with ice and sharing a laugh with Hana before she asked you to sit down, you didn’t notice Atsumu’s eyes lingering on you as you sat down on the stool beside him. The others were already eating from the boards and talking about their days, you listened attentively and nodded from time to time, you liked listening to people without necessarily sharing your thoughts, it was easier to avoid talking about your past. It was your turn to look at Atsumu while he excitedly talked about whatever he did at practice with Bokuto and Sakusa; but this time he felt your eyes on him. Doing a double take, the moment his eyes met yours he tripped on his words but recovered quickly.  

After twenty minutes or so, you noticed how Atsumu was only eating the cheese cubes from the boards and you laughed. “You are supposed to mix the flavours, not eating all the cheese.” He looked at you confused. 

“But I don’t know what to do with all of these, why would you mix jam with cream cheese? And what the fuck is this?” He asked, pointing at the honeycomb.

“I’m gonna start believing you have the taste buds of a five year old.”  You took the butter knife and a slice of bread from the board to carefully cut a piece of cheese and spread it on top of the bread.

“That’s not true. What are you doing?” You didn’t answer, too busy trying to cut into the honeycomb with a spoon and finally placing it on the bread along with a slice of strawberry on top of it. You brought the slice of bread near his mouth and he looked at you, then the food in front of him and then back at you not knowing what to do.

“Hurry up, the honey is dripping on my fingers.” He opened his mouth and took a bite, reaching for the uneaten piece to hold it so you could wipe the honey off your fingers, his flustered state was quickly replaced by the flavors melting on his mouth. His eyes widened as he looked at you. 

“Wait, that was actually really good.” He hummed and ate the other piece as you smiled softly. “Can you make another one? For me.” His eyes shining still delighted with the flavors lingering on his mouth. You kept handing him different mixes of textures and flavors, all of this under Hana and Aran’s gaze, mesmerized by your chemistry. “Okay that one I didn’t like.” Atsumu wiped his mouth. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t really looking.” You said having a bite for yourself. 

“My turn.” He said with the butter knife in one hand. You were nervous, his choices were a bit odd and you didn’t wanted to spit it out as soon as you bite into it. “Say ah.” He held his creation and you hesitated to get closer. “Hurry up, the honey is dripping on my fingers.” He mocked your previous words using them against you. 

“Very funny.” You narrowed your eyes finally opening your mouth and biting into it, it wasn’t until you started to chew that you could assimilate the flavors on your mouth, you couldn’t quite place them but it tasted good, looking back to Atsumu’s hand analyzing whatever he put on top of the bread slice. “It 's good.” 

“Just good?” You took the other part from his hand and he pushed himself back to stretch a little bit. 

“I mean, for a roasted tomato, peach jam and aged cheese; it’s great.” You cleaned your fingers once again and he just mumbled something about you being the one with childish taste buds. Everyone was aware of what was going on between you two but decided to keep the conversation going while you and Atsumu had your charcuterie expert moment. Osamu looked at his brother having a good time without necessarily causing ruckus or being loud, just genuinely enjoying himself. 

“Is there something going on between those two?” Suna whispered to him. 

“I have no idea.” He took a good sip of his wine and smiled at his boyfriend. “But Atsumu acts different when they are together.”

“Well, duh, look at him! He looks like a highschooler in love.” Ginjima intervened and the three of them laughed looking at Atsumu. You noticed the three pairs of eyes on you and pointed at them for Atsumu to pay attention to his friends. 

“What?” He asked and none of them said a thing. 

“Dinner is ready!” Aran announced and Hana called for you, asking if you were up to another round of margaritas. You agreed, trying to get away from the curious stares from Atsumu’s friends and brother; you walked straight to the bar to take the bottles of triple sec and tequila from the shelfs, she handed you the cups you were using already filled with ice. Atsumu was completely focused on your swift moves and the way you carefully poured the transparent liquor on the measuring cup and then the shaker. When you finished straining the drink on the two cups, Suna and Kita started asking you questions about your previous job and how it was working at a bar while Aran and Osamu served and garnished the plates. 

The rest of the night went well, way better than you thought. You exchanged numbers with Hana and made plans to go out for lunch the following week, you got along really well from the beginning and she said you were really fun to be around and complimented your mixology skills by saying you did the best margaritas she ever had. After saying goodbye to everyone and thanking the couple for the good time you and Atsumu left without Osamu since he went back home with Suna to spend the weekend together  before he had to come back to Osaka on Monday. You were now at your door with Atsumu, he claimed that he wanted to make sure you made it home safe but he just wanted to use the restroom. You let him in and told him where the guest bathroom was before taking your shoes off and walking to your bedroom looking for a hair tie. 

When he came back from the restroom your phone started to ring. “Someone’s calling you.” He said. 

“Can you see who it is? It’s probably my friend Oikawa.I’ll be out in a second” You yelled from your room. It was an unknown number but he still picked up. 

“Y/N?” The person on the other side of the line asked as soon as he pressed the phone on his right ear. 

“Uh, no, she is in her room right now but can I help you with something?”  The call was cut short. ‘Weird.’ Atsumu thought, he placed your phone back on the counter when you joined him again, this time with your hair tied in a messy ponytail with a few strands of hair framing your face. You looked beautiful.

“So, was it Oikawa?” 

“Well, I don’t know, it was an unknown number and they hung up as soon as they heard my voice. Probably a prank call.” He said making his way to the door with you trailing behind. 

“That’s weird.” You said before opening the door. “I had a lot of fun tonight, Atsumu, thank you.” You leaned on the door frame. 

“Would you like to do it again sometime? I mean, hanging out, I had fun too.” You were startled at his question. “As friends, of course.” He was quick to add and something inside you twisted in disappointment. You looked at him, towering over you with his overwhelming height and broad shoulders, he sure looked good.

“Sure, why not.” That came out more bitter than you expected. “Good night, Atsumu.”

‘Fuck it.’ Atsumu thought before taking a step closer to you and placing his left hand on your lower back, you didn’t dare to move waiting for his next move, in a matter of seconds his lips were on yours and your hands on his biceps trying to support yourself on him while he busied himself setting the pace of the kiss; slow and steady, making sure you knew that he fucked up the last part. “Do friends kiss each other like that, Miya?” You asked playfully when he parted away from your lips. 

“We can be really close friends.” He kissed you again, this time it was shorter but he still managed to take your breath away. “I have to go now.” He said after one too many kisses at your door, lips slightly swollen and eyes shimmering. 

“Text me when you get home.” You fixed his hair and gave him one last kiss on his cheek before he left. You checked the number that called before, not recognizing it at first glance you locked your phone, maybe Atsumu was right and someone was just trying to prank call you. Once you were in bed ready to sleep, a text from Oikawa lit up your phone screen asking for details, you sighed and turned it off. You tried to avoid your friends' questions all weekend, giving vague details and not mentioning that you made out with Atsumu for almost twenty minutes at the end of the night, you were not ready for them to tease you nonstop. 

-

“Y/N?” Iwaizumi asked, waiting to hear your voice from the other side of the line.

“Uh, no, she is in her room right now but can I help you with something?” A male voice answered. His insides twisted as panic took over his senses and immediately hung up. You were with someone else.

“What happened?” Hanamaki entered the kitchen, he saw Iwaizumi holding his phone in one hand and the landline on the other. “What are you doing with my phone?” It took him a few seconds before realizing. He grabbed his phone from Iwaizumi’s hand and saw your number displayed on the screen. “You called her?” 

“Why didn’t you tell me she was back.” Iwaizumi was angry, but so was Hanamaki. Did he really just ask that? 

“Because she asked us not to tell you, and we are trying to get our friend back, or do I need to remind you that she stopped talking to us because of you.” He stared at Iwaizumi coldly. 

“Shut up, that’s not fair.” 

“Not fair for who? For you? Get fucked Hajime, you act as if you were the victim in this situation. Maybe learn to respect other people’s privacy and stop trying to call her, she is over you.” With that Takahiro walked past him and made his way to his room. Tears threatening to spill from Iwaizumi’s eyes, a frustrated sigh left his lips as he ran his hands through his hair. 

You were over him. Just the thought of you forgetting about him made his chest hurt, still heavy with guilt. You were over him, and even worse, you were already with someone else.

-

The next few weeks were hectic, the season started and the team had a winning streak, the schedules were full and you received endless calls from magazines and sport channels. You were exhausted but happy to be occupied and your team made your work much easier. For the first time that week everyone was able to take it slower; the medical team went home earlier and the players were practicing by themselves while you and one of your assistants patiently waited for an email from the volleyball association. “So I heard you and Miya-senshu are really close lately.” You looked up from your phone and smiled. 

“Yeah, we are good friends.” You giggled. 

“I don’t understand how you get along so well with him, every time I work with him he acts like a diva.” She said adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose, you scrunched your nose in confusion; Atsumu was a genuinely nice guy, but it was true that he wasn’t easy to approach.

“Well, the spotlight was meant for him, he has a magnetic personality that makes everyone around him take an interest on him, but he is not the best at managing all of the attention. He is human too, you know? He knows what everyone thinks of him, so he reciprocates that perception without being aware of it. Maybe if you treated him like a normal person he would show a nicer side of him because he won’t feel like you are expecting him to be a complete asshole.” You explained as simple as  you could, she looked at you as if you had a third eye. It made sense, but before she could thank you for the advice your monitor screen refreshed, showing the email you were waiting for; the nominees for the Volleyball Association Awards. Reading carefully the names and the date of the ceremony you headed to the gym to break the news to the players along with your assistant. 

“I have good news!” You said as soon as you opened the gym doors. 

“Y/N!” Bokuto ran to you. “What is going on?” He asked, trying to peek on your clipboard. 

“The volleyball association sent the names of the nominees for this year’s awards.” You announced and waited for everyone to gather around you. “The team is nominated for best division one line up.” Everyone cheered in excitement. “Bokuto and Sakusa for best newcomers, Meian-senshu for best middle blocker and finally, Atsumu and Inunaki-senshu are nominated for setter and libero of the year.” They congratulated each other with side hugs and high-fives. “Also, Thomas-senshu was requested to be one of the hosts for the  ceremony.” 

“For real?” His eyes widened in surprise. 

“Yes, they loved your appearances on the sports channel, they are going to send Hideko the details later so make sure to check them with her later.” He nodded and Meian patted his back a little bit too hard. “Congratulations to all of you, once the nominations are available to the public we are expecting a few interviews but we are going to try to keep them short until the end of the season in november, please be mindful of your interactions with the press, one mistake can cost you the award.” After another round of cheering you and your assistant took your leave. 

“We can go celebrate later.” Atsumu held your wrist before you exited the gym, he raised his brows trying to convince you. 

“I would love to, but I have plans with Hana-san.” He pouted. “Maybe tomorrow if you are not planning to practice all day like always.” 

“Hana is always stealing you away from me.” He complained playing with your fingers. “You are always hanging out with her” 

“Weren’t you the one who wanted me to be friends with her?” 

“Yes! But now is different.” He whined. 

“What changed?” You asked, knowing the answer very well. The expression on his face begged you to not make him say it as he loosened his grip on your hand. “We’ll talk later, okay? I need to go home if I want to be on time.” He hesitated but agreed in the end.

“No goodbye kiss?”  He asked and you looked around to make sure you were alone, the rest of the team also left the gym to get changed and go home and there was no one to be seen on the hallway, so you inched closer to him until you were breathing on his lips, he closed his eyes waiting for you to kiss him. 

“No.” You said and ran as fast as you could to your office, ignoring Atsumu’s whining from behind. You decided you wouldn't let him have his way with you this time, at least until he was clear with what he wanted. While it was true that you spent a lot of time together after that night at Aran’s house, not a word about the nature of your relationship was spoken, it was a silent agreement between the two of you, you clearly liked each other but you were still scared to jump into a relationship of any kind and Atsumu wasn’t really open about his intentions, so you decided that each other’s company was enough. That until your feelings for the setter started to change from a childish crush to something deeper that you couldn’t explain — more like, you were scared to admit.— and that was constantly on your mind.

And it wasn’t that Atsumu wanted to play with your feelings, he was just as scared as you, he never really committed to a relationship because he was so focused on his career as a volleyball player. But you made everything easier and it just felt right, he wanted to come clean and tell you how much he truly liked you but he didn’t knew how. He thought he was going too fast, but if he waited for too long you would forget about him. What if you weren’t looking for something serious with him? Truth is, you didn’t knew what you were looking for, but something about Atsumu made you believe that maybe this was a second chance for you to find happiness. 

But you wouldn’t know unless one of you gathered the courage to admit you were helplessly in love.

(a/n: hey everyone! im finally back after so long, im really excited to post this chapter since i finally got a hang of my creativity again, i would like to thank miss taylor swift and miss hayley williams for the inspiration, you should listen to FLOWERS for VASES / descansos by hayley, listening to it last night gave me the push i needed to finish writing (i am updating the fic playlist regurlarly if you like to check it out ;)). also, did you see those two???? THEY ARE SO CUTE when i tell you i was screaming last night when i was writing the last few scenes, i mean it. thank you so much for your patience and your concern for my health, i am doing much better physically, emotionally im still working on myself so i can stop projecting my sadness on poor y/n TT i hope you like it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i promised my betas i wouldnt take more than two weeks to write the next chapter and hopefully i can keep my promise. take care, and i hope all of you are wearing your masks and staying safe. <3)  

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[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 9

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

Tulipa gesneriana ~ Commonly called the Garden Tulip. A lovely flower with cherry red petals that is never seen cultivating by itself.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

“Now that we’ve had our pity party, how about I act like a proper grandmother and show you some photos.” Oma smiled and rose to grab a weathered tin and a photo album from the bookshelf. Levi felt like the couch was engulfing his form with its soft cradle. When Oma turned around she was met with his body half eaten by the overly plush material; his shoulders hunched and tea propped up against his chest as his body reclined even further inward. He looked pleasantly comfortable and stiff at the same time.

As she plopped the two memory vessels on the coffee table, Levi’s features hardened akin to the rusted box now in front of him. The foreign lettering connected in geometric shapes that he recognized but could not decipher. They left remembrance teetering on the tip of his tongue.

“That’s my father’s cigar box.” Oma explained when she noted his fixation on the object. Levi heaved himself out of the couch’s embrace and propped his elbows on his knees, still fixated on the memento.

“The writing on the side…” Levi let his sentence flit away on his breath as his brain delved deeper into the patterns.

“Writing? What makes you think its writing?” Oma pursed her lips and picked up the weathered box to give it a closer examination. “Looks more like a decorative design.”  

Oma shrugged and passed the box to Levi. It felt cold on his freshly tea-cup warmed palms. Flashbacks of loitering about the weathered guard posts, frosted cabins, and Utgard Castle drew back vivid images of the strange symbols. They sparked his curiosity enough to imprint within him, but he didn’t care enough to debate with the old woman.

It would be a memory put on hold for another time.

“I’ve seen something like it at one of the outposts on old crates of supplies and alcohol.” He stated, placing the box down in resignation.

“Hmm.” Oma gave one final acknowledgement before popping the top open. She lifted the haphazardly stacked photos out of their resting place with a gentleness that cradled each precious paper.

As she flipped through them, Levi felt like he was gaining memories of a childhood... a family ...that he never had. It was like observing someone’s entire life through a looking glass. These pictures were of Oma; of her and her husband, of her and their children, of her and you and Petra.

Levi’s brow knitted when she came to a photo of a spry, young version of herself embracing a familiar face-only with a full head of lucious locks.

“You and- Pixis ?” Levi said in exasperation and squinted at the photo as if that would make his shock dwindle.

Oma couldn’t have been much older than you; her statue was slight but her physique was robust. Her hair cascaded from her bun and softly framed her face that smiled wryly at the camera. She was arm in arm with Pixis; his eyes crinkled with happiness and hair (comically) blowing in the wind.

“Ah yes. Dot and I were both squad leaders and grew very close.” Oma sighed with a nostalgic glow. “That man truly had a way with his hands. The last time I saw him Ymir knows I couldn’t restrain myself-”

Levi inhaled his tea so furiously that it seared his throat with the same passion Oma gave off for the garrison commander. She looked on in amusement as he collected himself and cleared the assault on his lungs.

“You mean, you two-” Levi started, mentally wiping away the unwanted visual before it left a permanent stain in his cranium.

“Oh yes. As casual and dedicated as friends but as steaming as this kettle.” Oma’s youthful vigor radiated extra brightly as she reminisced.

“Why didn’t it work out?” Levi asked.

“My husband snatched me away.” She winked and continued on her trip down memory lane.

“Ah! Now that one of you is here…” Oma began excitedly as the next photo was unveiled. “You can tell me all about this one.”

“You have this photo?” Levi’s voice was barely above a whisper as he relieved the corporeal memory.

“Yup, she sent it to me for safe keepings. Said in her letter that she saw your face enough everyday that she didn’t need the photo right now.”

Levi felt the familiar feeling of his heart expanding when he set his eyes on your elegant beauty. The photo in question was taken at the last Royal Gala after everyone had swapped their military uniforms for evening wear. He always secretly wished he had more excuses to see you in a gown such as that one; the smooth fabric billowed gracefully from your hips, accentuated your curves, and pushed upward the swell of your breasts that were cradled in a lining of lavish lace trim. It would be eternally alluring to him, partially from the lavish overstimulation of the elite banquet and because it was-well- you. He remembered the insatiable feeling of the stark and sudden transition of having absolutely nothing to his name, to being flushed with an abundance of everything in that moment.

You were beaming, a brilliant smile outshining the flashy festival mask that you adorned. Levi...not so much. He gazed into the viewfinder with features hard but eyes delicate in a way that demonstrated he was putting up with your antics. The two of you were pressed into each other's sides as the decadent swirling of the wealthy framed your faces.

If you squinted closely, and looked past the grainy texture and into the background, one would be able to observe Hange swinging Moblit wildly in circles among the party-goers.

↞♞♘↠

“Why not?” You prodded, arms crossed in defiance at his rejection of your proposition.

“I’m not going to wear some gaudy mask that most likely has the sweat stains of hundreds of people on it.” Levi stated with sharp disgust. His eyes nearly rolled out of his skull when you began childishly tugging on the sleeve of his tailcoat.

That tailcoat was the precise reason why you desperately needed to get in line for this photo. It was hard enough to see Levi out of anything but his scouting uniform or his everyday combo of a long sleeved button down and trousers. Both options were easy on the eyes but tonight he looked ravishing. The tailcoat was expertly tailored and clutched the curve of his slim waist and the expanse of his toned arms close to the obsidian fabric.

He was always clean, but cleaned up -so to say-he was absolutely divine. You would never tell him this but his fox like beauty paired with the fancy dress endowed him with the grace of a prince.

“You don’t have to wear the mask! Although that would make it less fun…” You mumbled in a last ditch attempt, hoping he would take pity for you on this special occasion.

“Great now that we’ve established it’s not fun, let’s go get another drink.” He replied, unfazed and unwavered. He began turning towards the outer end of the ballroom where waiters danced with shining trays instead of partners.

“No!” You yelped, scampering as hurriedly as your heels would allow you to stand in front of him. Your chest was heaving in excitement for the extravagant evening (and by the walls was that corset tight). Your heels increased your already apparent height difference and made your very... perky breasts at eye level with his gaze. Levi coughed to rebuild his crumbling composure. He kindly reminded himself he was at a government sponsored event and that no matter how desperately he desired to let his eyes wander this was not the time and place.

“You said I look beautiful tonight, right?” You quipped with a pointed glare.

“Of course.” His lack of hesitation in his answer made the alcohol content in your blood skyrocket as you became drunk on him even more than you already had.

“Well if you would take 5 minutes to take this photo with me that’s 5 minutes until I’m willing to sneak out of here with you. Then you can see this beautiful gown on your chamber’s floor.” Your eyes sparkled with mischief akin to the iridescent pearls that were nestled into your ears.

Levi’s brow quirked in intrigue and you were a deer caught in the sly beams of his eyes.

“Fine.”

↞♞♘↠

“What a wonderful gala that was. I usually despise such events but I gotta examine you in person for the first time, no matter how brief our encounter was. I got to see my girl in such a lovely gown, and I got to absolutely feel Dot-”

“I don’t need a narrative.” Levi intercepted quickly with a sharp tinge of annoyance that sent Oma into a mess of snorts and laughter.

That strange sensation washed over him once more. The pleasantly warm bubble that made him feel like he was home but standing on the outskirts of the precipice all at once.

“Is that why we didn’t get to actually meet?” Levi trailed off as realization snapped him like a taut rubber band. While he was forced to blandly entertain the higher ups and delegates your grandmother was snogging a commander.

“Oh hush, you’re an adult, stop acting like a teenage boy.” She playfully chided with a glint in her eye that made Levi take step closer to that tempting bubbling feeling.

A gentle knock on the wood paneling caused Oma and Levi to raise their heads to meet Felicia’s gaze.

“I’m going to head home now, Frau Vogel.” She said with a tired smile as she poked her head around the living room archway.

“Damn, it really has gotten dark hasn’t it?” Oma mumbled as she took in the waning light.

“My dear, it’s much too late to be walking back by yourself. You can stay in your old room.” Her response was a medley of chastising and fondness.

“O-oh, no. I mean-how kind of you-but I don’t have a change of fresh clothes and these ones have bits of blood and schnitzel on them…” Felicia sighed with a whine. Oma was about to interject her dramatic behavior when Levi’s voice filled the space instead.

“I’ll walk you home.” He offered, tone as smooth and calm as the golden liquid in his cup. He placed his cup on the saucer with a small clank and rose from the couch. Felicia bristled in bashful gratitude as he quietly padded over to the front door and began lacing his boots.

Oma gave Felicia a wink and nestled further into the couch, letting the cushions cradle her old bones and the aroma of the tea lull her into relaxation.

“The kitchen is clean, I folded all of the towels-” Felicia hurriedly explained when Levi held the door open for her.

“Yes, yes, thank you. Now off you go, I’ll come fetch you tomorrow.” Oma shooed the jittery girl out of the house with a wave of her hand.

“Oh, Felicia-” She interjected. The young woman poked her head back into the archway.

“If I hear one peep out of you about not paying you for looking after Y/N this next week I will have to start cooking the schnitzel myself.”  

Felicia gasped in betrayal as the fireflies that worshiped the porch flowers sent she and her companion off on their moonlit walk. The grit of shoes against the pebbled road took over the silence which Levi observed Felicia desperately wanted to fill. She seemed to feel pressure to speak, to offer something other than the emptiness of the countryside. Levi, on the other hand, was completely content with bathing in the blissful numbness of the cricket symphonies and the wind kisses of the path.

“How does our village compare to where you’re from?” Felicia barely overpowered the whistling of the grass with her slight tone. Her question was an innocent one. One with good intent that Levi didn’t dare spoil given the past two days of anguish.

“It’s...definitely more colorful.” He let the sweet air fill his tired lungs. He had seen a larger aurora of colors in these past 48 hours than he reckoned he had ever seen in his monochromatic existence. Going from the diluted underground to the emerald green seas and burnt brick of the walls didn’t leave much room for hue.

“So you’re from an urban area then?” Felicia continued, enthused that Levi had picked up her conversation.

“You could say that.” His reply was vague but left no room for further explanation. Truthfully, he felt as much from that festering tumor as a migratory bird feels for its winter home. It was where he was birthed, raised, existed . But he didn’t truly live until he rid his mouth of the dusted, stale air and crumbing ceilings of the underground.

Felicia’s mouth hung open with an incoming response when a screech erupted in its place. Levi grunted as she jumped sideways right into him, colliding into his sore shoulder. He just barely caught her as he staggered backwards. She stumbled against his chest before he propped her back up straight by her underarms.

“What the fuck just happened?” He asked with an irritation he couldn’t restrain. Felicia’s bodyweight had punctured his shoulder with sharp needles that disturbed the dull hum of his pain.

“Oh walls, I’m so so SO sorry sir-I MEAN LEVI!” She babbled as she floundered to eject herself from his support so as to not burden him any more.

“I-I, something moved in the bush right next to me!” Felicia’s tone wobbled just as her legs did. Levi followed her trembling gaze and prepared himself for a feral dog or a wild boar. If it was anything bigger than that, like a bear, they were absolutely fucked.

The snort that erupted from the bush elicited another shrill scream from the maid. Levi’s muscles tensed in the realization that he would have to fend off the beast with his bare hands in his absence of weapons. He brought up a protective arm in front of Felicia when a pawing in the foliage neared the paved pathway. The thick anticipation mingled with the drumming of hearts was the soundtrack to the animal moving into the lamplight.

Levi’s muscles instantly relaxed. All except his chest. It shook with candid chuckles that materialized as a small hum and blossomed into a full blown laughter.

“Hello Big Shit.” Levi’s smile was radiant against the artificial lighting as Puddle aparated out of the bushes, his form now fully visible in the dim illumination. “He must have followed us.”

“B-big shhhh?” Felicia stammered, eyes wide with embarrassment. She was too polite to finish the last word.

Then he did it again.

He laughed so freely it put the crickets to shame. Felicia pursed her lips awkwardly and smoothed her nervous hands along her apron.

“He’s Y/N’s.” Levi cooed , reaching a delicate hand out to the horse and letting him press his plush nose to his knuckles. Felicia’s jaw went slack once more. She felt like she was regarding a completely separate individual she had previously been acquainted with. His cicada shell had been discarded on the path with the others and now only tenderness enveloped the man’s being.

“He is quite terrifying.” Levi teased gently as Puddle extended his neck to nuzzle hot breaths into his cheek. Felicia flushed at her overreaction. Levi turned from the horse to her with a glow that made her swear he was a tranquil forest spirit rather than the man who was walking her home. At her shock he immediately reigned himself back in, clearing his throat and partially crawling back into his cicada skin.

“If he’s followed us this far he’ll keep walking with us.” Levi said, the brief bloom of outward happiness coming to an end.

After a few minutes of only the comets’ luminous words trickling through the sky and the occasional snort, Felicia spoke up.

“It’s nice to see you happy.” She commented bashfully.

“It’s not like I haven’t been happy before.” He huffed, unsure of where to place her heartfelt compliment among the ever turbidness of his mind.

“I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just-I’ve never seen you smile before.” She cringed as she said it and Levi’s snort mimicked the horse behind them. He let her observation marinade under the moonlight.

“Happiness shows itself in different ways.” He mused and the corners of her lips upturned smally at her silliness.

“I just can’t imagine what you and Y/N have to go through.” She said with the careful articulation of a confession.

“D-did you see it happen?” She asked apprehensively. The nightmare scape tore through his cornea and implanted itself as if he was seeing it vividly again.

“No.” He exhaled.

The mass of flesh reeked of steamed rotted meat in the background of your shuddering form blanketed in torn cloth and soaked in sticky blood. His feet were caught in a time loop, too slow to reach you but too fast to wrap his mind around the potential discovery of your demise. His knees burned against the fabric of his trousers as they slid on the viscous ground to you. Your eyes were open wide and even though they were looking right at him, they went right through him like he was transparent against the skyline. The titan and you shared a bed of grass but by the walls not a resting place.

“But I saw the one that did it to her.” He continued as he blinked away the flash of mental scar tissue. “Her blade was lodged into its neck and it was bleeding profusely from its eye.”

Felicia winced at his description.

“She’s grown so strong.” Her whimper got lodged in her throat.

Little lanterns perched on the exterior of modest cottages floated into existence on both sides of the road as they neared Felicia’s neighborhood.

“How long have you known Y/N and Oma?” He asked to change the conversation for the sake of both their emotional turmoil. Felicia brightened up a bit at his term for her mistress.

“Since I was very young.” She smiled the weight right off of Levi’s shoulders. “My parents worked for Oma and her husband. I became Y/N’s babysitter or sorts, and by default many times Jean’s too, then the housekeeper to make some money.”

Levi recounted her reaction to the photo of Jean earlier and decided to attempt to lighten the mood like the wispy moss that dangled over their heads.

“Jean is single.” He revealed and eyed her in muted amusement for her reaction. Felicia turned beet red, the statement adding an extra sheepish pop to her step.

“O-oh, that’s hard for me to believe.” She laughed awkwardly.

“Really?” Levi replied without a drop or sarcasm. He understood why you put up with the boy because you had been friends for so long. But he would forever wonder how mentally stable the person who would willingly date him was.

Felicia gulped as his question hung out to try on the overarching maple branches.

“W-well, I mean-he’s funny, considerate, determined-”

“Determined to keep his long face up my asshole.” Levi finished her musings, dodging a moth as it flew too close to his nose. Felicia giggled at his half-assed insult.

“Determination, no matter what the kind, is a handsome quality.”

Levi hummed at her sincere answer. Her excitement over the boy rubbed warm circles into his chest. It reminded himself of his blooming feelings for you.

“When was the last time you saw him?” He asked as Felicia led him down a left fork in the road.

“Oh, a little less than a year ago? He and Y/N don’t get to come home a lot, you know.”

Their conversation was concluded in the middle of the road when Felicia halted in front of a beige cottage.

“This is me.” Her grin pushed up the apples of her cheeks and she cheesily pointed to the home. Levi nodded once and watched as she delicately climbed up the steps, deftly avoiding the garden rocks in the darkness until she reached her porch.

“Thank you for walking me here. You’ll be okay finding your way back?” She affirmed as she turned her key into the lock. Levi nodded once more and she breathed out a timid laugh.

“Alright, good night Levi.” She smiled sweetly.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Big...um.” She turned to Puddle and wrinkled her nose.

“Shit.” Levi finished with crinkled eyes.

“Sh...shit.” She blurted and danced in place as if she had uttered a tremendous sin. Levi waited until she was halfway inside when she surprised him by returning to his presence. She paused, the light emanating from the open door allowing them to see each other clearly. She threw him a genuine smile that made him feel naked in the pale night.

“You know, you fit in really well here.”

Levi twirled the circlets of metallic promises between his fingers as he let the warmth of this evening’s reactions carry him home.

Fuck, did he just think home ?

In such a short amount of time, these gardens of tulips and those that harvest them had uprooted the numbness he had trained himself to harbor. He’d now gotten a sickeningly sweet taste of life and it was going to be hard for him to not grow addicted to it. The rings began to feel too heavy for him to carry and he placed them securely back in his pocket as he neared the estate.

With Puddle contained for the moment, he tapped his dirtied boots against the doormat and stepped into the living room. His feet sank deep into the fertilizer as he looked upon Oma. She had fallen asleep curled into the sofa, her empty tea cup cuddled into her embrace and the photo album discarded on the adjacent cushion.

He felt oddly like an intruder as he gingerly released the cup from her grasp. Felt the peculiar stab of domestic alienation when he draped the crocheted blanket over her. This was what home was supposed to resemble. Not a sullen room with a single bed and a mother called upon only to come home a wilted flower with her petals torn. Levi was knee deep in the garden soil now and he dove further and further into the dirt every passing day he spent here.

He tiptoed up the creaky steps, shed your father’s clothes in exchange for more appropriate sleepwear, and gravitated to your room. The armchair screeched dully against the flooring as he brought it closer to your bed. And he allowed himself to dream of living for once instead of just existing.

You fit in really well here.

Morning arrived on the chaotic wings of angry sparrows and a pleasant plush heat on his back. Levi groaned as he felt his back scream at him for his hunched over position. He clutched the blanket to his body as he stretched out the kinks. He rubbed the fluffy material between his fingers as he groggily recalled that he definitely didn’t go to sleep with this. As he sat up a light fluttering fell to the ground from his shoulder. Looking to the floor he noticed a note. He bent down to retrieve it and held it close to his sandy eyes.

I let you sleep in today because you need it-don’t deny it.

I’m off to get Felicia and we’re stopping by the apothecary on the way home but we shouldn’t be too long.

Here’s a blanket.

You don’t want your body to be as cold as your heart <3.

Oma

Levi rested his head on his blanket covered palm, nuzzling into the softness as he sighed in mild contentment.

“I lied-I understand how the two of you are related.” Levi whispered lightly towards you, the sounds as airy as the birds tapping at the glass.

It was another beautifully scenic day dressed in another of your father’s outfits babysitting another kettle of tea. Levi peeked out the kitchen window and wondered if everyday in this countryside was euphoric. But rather than basking in the lovely weather he opted to spend his morning tea with the one whose absence left this house just short of paradise.

He was careful to not clank the tray around as he reentered your room and spread open the curtains. However, the moment his fingers pulled the fabric apart the little winged rats announced their presence rather aggressively.

“Fuck off.” Levi threatened with a flick to the glass. His finger came back coated in dust.

"Felicia is a fucking disappointment of a cleaner."

And so the morning was spent sipping on temporary relief and gazing at the embodiment of comfort in your bed until his cup grew vacant. His chair creaked with age as he abandoned his post to refill his energy source.

Time slowed as it did two days ago and it was a miracle he avoided burning his fingers. They froze on the hot kettle as he was electrocuted by a weak gasp.

“Lee-” A desperately familiar voice with the body of a crumb murmured. He whipped around to see his most treasured blend of colors open up into his being.

Conscious.

Looking at him.

Actually at him.

The china fell from his petrified fingers and hit the rug with a bounce.

“Le-vi”

[shsl-otaku]

Where Greed Goes, Despair Follows: Chp. 41

Pairing: Ban & Y/N

Anime: Seven Deadly Sins

Genre: Adventure, Romance

Warnings: None

Tag List: @asgleo16 @yuri-2018 @vialuciferscage @commanderawkward @chidayasays @misfitgirlwrites @amberfoxcosplay @catlover7722 @shiggi-trash @softiekage @happynoodle @milkysamu @kageyamis @yogurthdecoco @alysplxnet @chanderefk @furryavocadoowo @nellieleverlin @djdestiny23 @kelseyleia98 @demise-dies-dead @giyuustears @callmeunstable @jaybeingweird @lizzy101 @wishfulcoconut @80strashbag @crownedcupcake17 @rinzyx05 @cinnamonbun332 @smolmacbean @lalalol17 @rintheemolion @lostgirl2007 @god-of-the-universe @whorianscum @ihaveaproblem98 @ariknj @liawinchester67 @sunnsettee @beccawinter @stxtch72 @starrykeigo @fivehargreeves05 @plumrosewine @lie-ana @immamess69 @a-trillion-stars 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Guila and Howzer stood in front of Diane and Zeal, swords drawn and ready to defend them. Dreyfus, Helbram, Jericho, and Gilthunder stared back, swords drawn as well.

"Platinum-ranked Holy Knight," Guila started, not taking her eyes off the opponents in front of her. "What are our odds of winning this hopeless struggle? With our magical powers, those two behind us could get caught in our wake."

"And that's not all," Howzer said. "We're up against a grand master, a cardinal, and a Diamond-ranked Holy Knight, the next highest. Our odds of winning are zero."

Dreyfus suddenly launched forward at them, Howzer already anticipating it.

"Not by a long shot," he yelled, bringing his sword up. A huge tornado shot up into the sky and brought up the four Holy Knights. "Rising Tornado! A highly-condensed tornado whose range is focused to do the utmost!"

Howzer turned to Guila, sword still raised in the air. "Guila! Pour every last drop of your magical powers into my tornado!"

"Stop it, Guila," Jericho yelled. "I'm your comrade, dammit!"

Guila winced. "Forgive me, Jericho. But I have no other option! Shot Bomb!" She shot her fire balls into the tornado, causing the flames to quickly rise to the top of it. "Combined Skill, Bomb Cyclone!"

"Keep firing until our magical powers are depleted," Howzer shouted. They both yelled as they did their best to keep their magic as strong as they could.

At the same time, a certain pink-haired Sin saw the flaming tornado and was running towards it. "That's a tremendous outpouring of magical power," Gother said, calmly. "But it's not Diane.

Meanwhile in the dungeons below the kingdom, Elizabeth and Hawk were listening to the noise from above.

"Seems like something just got started," Hawk said, nervously. "Elizabeth, looks like this is the underground pigpen! Let's head above ground!"

"Pigpen?" Elizabeth repeated.

"I mean dungeon!"

Elizabeth stared down at Hawk for a moment until her eyes suddenly widened as if she had just remembered something.

"Father! Big Sister Margaret! Where are you?" Elizabeth cried, now walking down the dark halls of a different part of the dungeon. "Father!"

"Hey, pipe down," Hawk whisper-yelled. "If you shout too loud, the guard will come!"

"Is that you, Elizabeth?" A voice asked from inside the cell that the two were standing next to.

"Elizabeth," the voice called again. "Is it you?"

"Big Sister Margaret?" Elizabeth gasped, walking to the cell door.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Going back to what was going on above ground, Howzer and Guila were struggling to keep their flaming tornado up.

"Don't burn out, Guila," Howzer yelled.

"Don't you either," she shouted back.

"How long do you to plan to keep that up?" A voice asked from behind. Guila froze in shock as Gilthunder brought his sword down on her. Howzer reacted fast and quickly blocked his sword from hitting Guila.

"I knew it," Howzer said, voice strained. "You're the guy we couldn't keep in check." He looked out of the corner of his eye to see that the tornado had stopped due to him losing his concentration.

Jericho fell to the ground, clothes nearly burnt off and gasping for air. Much to Guila and Howzer's dismay, Helbram stood nearly unscathed.

"For a jerry-built combo, you guys came real close," Helbram exclaimed. "But it's just a stopgap, after all."

"This is all the damage I can cause at full magical power?" Guila said, shocked. She gasped when a figure walked out of the smoke. Dreyfus came out as if he wasn't in there at all. His purple eyes glared into Guila's.

"I can't believe he came out completely unscathed," she whispered.

"Silken Skewer," Dreyfus yelled, pointing his sword at Guila. She gasped as a white beam of power was blasted at her-

It never hit her.

Howzer and Helbram gasped as they saw who had saved her.

"Who do you think?" Gowther asked, standing on the roof of a building with Guila in his arms.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After talking about their sister and shedding some tears, Elizabeth spoke up.

"Big Sister Margaret, we'll talk later. Let's escape this place together," she said, looking at her sister through the hole of her cell door.

"Are you sisters discussing a prison break?" A familiar voice said behind them.

Elizabeth turned around, surprised. 'Oh no-! She's the one who took me and Y/N!'

"You look so innocent," the mage said. "But just what method did you use to break out?"

"Let my sister out of there right now," Elizabeth shouted, clearly angry that the woman had messed with another person she cared for:

"You're totally mistaken about that,” she said.”Lady Margaret went into that cell of her own volition.”

“Do you really think I’d believe such a lie?” Elizabeth yelled.

The mage shrugged. “If you don’t, fine by me. Now, then, Lady Elizabeth,” The mage stepped towards Elizabeth, making her step back nervously. “Let me take you somewhere safer than this-” She let out a grunt as she was pushed back into the wall. “Who’s that?!”

“Ultra Knockout Blow - Forget Meal!” Hawk said, stomping his foot. “Completely concealing my presence, I attack my target’s blind spot with this forbidden technique! Anyway, you’ve been totally ignoring me all this time! I’ll be the one to take you on first!”

“Hawk,” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“A talking... pig?” the mage said, shakily getting up. “A pig?!” Hawk gasped as the ground beneath him started to glow.

“Out of my sight,” the mage yelled, making Hawk disappear in a pillar of light. The light slammed Elizabeth into the wall behind her, knocking her unconscious.

Hawk looked around, now in a dark and seemingly empty place. “Elizabeth? Where are you? Elizabeth! I’m right here, okay?”

Little did he know, there was a large trumpet behind him. The trumpet that Ban wanted to find.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

HAHAAAA I FINALLY POSTED IT!! I'M SO SORRY THAT THERE WAS NO Y/N IN THIS CHAPTER!! I didn't want to make a huge time skip without context ( ・∇・) I am back to being busy again but tysm for being patient with me. I'm not too active on tumblr because of how busy I am but I've seen how all of you enjoy this so much. Ty for all the support and love and please continue to enjoy the fanfic <3

[boop-le-snoot]

skin starving

tony stark x f!reader fluff. no warnings, just a few f-bombs. touch starved tony’s third person pov. words: 2,5k. no beta because i just really needed to get this off my chest.

recommended music to go with the story: two feet - 'love is a bitch' & 'quick musical doodles'. Or any lo-fi hip-hop radio really.

It started as an itch. At first, a small but bothersome thing, that kept him up at night, steering the already unreasonable hours of wakefulness into dangerous territory. The cold of his bed was unappealing and more often than not, he’d started passing out on the flat surfaces nearest to him: workshop, lab, common room couch, the lazy boy in Bruce’s apartment.

The team noticed, of course, they weren’t blind. They all had been on edge the first few months after Pepper left him. They expected him to act out, lock himself up in his lab or go back to his old habits of boozing and bringing home a different girl every night. And he had tried that, once or twice, but airheaded twenty-somethings weren’t appealing anymore. Most of the time their ass kissing and blatantly flattery annoyed him further into self-loathing abyss. He simply couldn’t step up to be the kind of man they described him to be - it seemed as if every woman on planet Earth had a whole list of expectations he specifically could not meet.

With Thor off planet, not one remaining person on the team was particularly touchy-feely. And that was the thing with Tony Stark: as an engineer, as a mechanic, he made his way through the world hands-first, every approach he had was hands-on. During late nights and early mornings, he laid in bed, sleepless and dreamless, desperately refusing to admit his own touch starvation.

Whenever Rogers threw an arm around his shoulders during a particularly successful team bonding activity, it took every ounce of willpower Tony had to not lean into it and purr like a cat. He hadn’t truly forgiven Steve for his cold, cruel words of criticism shortly after Pepper’s departing. He wasn’t going to chummy up to a man who thought him selfish, opportunistic and self-absorbed.

Tony became irritable and withdrawn. He simultaneously craved and avoided even the casual, friendlier attention his teammates gave him on a daily basis. His usual snark became that much more biting, having caused several people to storm out of team meetings.

On a cold autumn morning, Tony had found his way at the tower’s Starbucks on the employee floor. He had squeezed a generous five hours of restless sleep and he was sick of the plain black coffee in his kitchen. A spontaneous desire for something sweet and creamy and caffeinated led him to the place in line at the cafeteria, only a few early birds ahead of him.

Tony’s brain was hazy as it had been past few weeks, dull from the lack of rest and the hyperfixation of his own skin feeling alien to him. For once, he wasn’t typing away on his StarkPhone as he usually did to avoid being bothered; Tony stared straight ahead, unseeing, nothing but white noise in his usually racing brain.

Two women stood in front of him and he couldn’t help but overhear a part of their conversation.

“… Are you really horny or just lonely or touch-starved, though? I mean, Tinder? It’s not really your style.”

“Eh, I dunno. Probably the second but it’s not like men go on Tinder to find a cuddle buddy.”

“Well, maybe? I’ve heard about arrangements like that.”

“No offense, babe, but it’s probably kids in their early twenties. Those gen-z’s, babe, are weird. I’m not really up to date on all of that.”

The topic of the conversation was what piqued Tony’s interest; the world liked rubbing salt into his wounds and hysterically laugh at his misfortune. Bleary-eyed, he briefly scanned the two women: both appeared to be interns or junior techs in his company, evident by the purple employee badges hanging from their bags.

“So what are you going to do?” One woman asked the other as their turn to order took Tony one step closer to obtaining his desired caffeine.

“Unless someone normal magically appears with an offer of no-strings-attached, good ole’ snuggle fest, I guess I’m getting dicked down on Saturday,” The other replied with a teasing tone. The lack of excitement in the last part of the sentence was obvious.

“Gross,” The first one shook her head and hurriedly rattled off her order to the barista who looked about as disgruntled as Tony felt.

Hours and three coffees later, Tony’s overactive brain was still stuck on that woman from the cafeteria. Her back, her purse stuffed full of colorful manila folders, her neatly gathered hair - Tony Stark had nearly perfect memory and he remembered every single detail despite his brain fog. Objectively, she was attractive, no more no less than a different dozen of women he’d seen at any point in his life before. So why was he hung up on her?

It didn’t take him a long time to find her file, faster than he’d liked to admit. Manually sorting through hundreds of interns, lab technicians and various second-tier employees wasn’t exactly considered productive but with Pepper and her nagging out of the picture, Tony could afford to slack off a little bit.

So he found her name and her e-mail address, skimmed over her performance report with satisfaction, finding her to be a busy bee in the 90-th percentile. Her superiors considered her trustworthy, hard-working and communicative, all good traits.

Pepper’s absence meant he’d have no one to cover his ass should he get slapped with a harassment suit; however, he was the Tony Stark after all. He had more money that he’d cared to count and an army of lawyers at his disposal 24/7.

Amidst the jumbled mess of wires, circuit boards, tablets, empty coffee cups and the occasional piece of paper, Tony typed up an e-mail to the woman sharing his… Condition.

“I heard you and your friend talking at Starbucks. I could use a cuddle buddy. Wine and Netflix at my place? What’s your takeout preference?”

No. That came off way too creepy, like he was some kind of a dirty eavesdropper.

He contemplated some more, typing up and erasing multiple e-mails with various proposals: his penthouse, her place, a three Michelin star restaurant, a walk in the park. Almost all of it screamed ‘date’, like he’d drag her off to bed the very moment an opportunity wouldn’t present itself. It wasn’t so: Tony Stark, the playboy genius, had his dick firmly tucked into his pants. The thought of fucking her crossed his mind only briefly, quickly being chased away by the thought of her fingers running through his hair. Her warm, soft body in his arms. Just laying on his couch, eyes closed, reveling in each other’s arms.

Tony hit send on the least obnoxious option. He baited his breath, clicking his fingers in anticipation as the message showed itself to having been delivered.

“Mary, is this you trying to be funny? Stark is going to fire you if he finds out you’re impersonating him to stop your friend from going on a questionable date. Grow up.” Came the very prompt reply, ending with a short string of angry emojis. Tony could totally trust a person who used emojis unironically and generously.

“For the record, I wouldn’t be mad if somebody pretended to be me for the sake of saving their cute friend from a creep. The problem would be making it look credible.” Tony typed up the answer without thinking, quickly snapping a picture of himself holding the Starbucks cup with his name written on it, throwing his usual sloppy peace sign. He attached it to the email and hit send.

“WTF” Came the reply not a minute afterwards. He let it sink in, giving the woman some time to gather her wits. She did not disappoint. “Okay, even if we pretend this is real - which I doubt - what’s in it for you? If you heard our conversation, you surely know my stance on the matter.”

“I’m always glad to prove you wrong. I’m a genius - comes with the territory.” Tony simply couldn’t resist adding a generous dose of snark. “You’re welcome to meet me after clocking out. Use the private elevator, my AI will beam you up.”

The reply took a considerably long amount of time, seeing as previously, she typed back rather quickly. “Please don’t be a creepy rapist, Scotty. Fingers crossed.” Tony managed to almost break his stylus twice. His hands shook, and he had to tell himself to breathe - still, he laughed at the clever way she replied.

Several more hours later, during which Tony had nearly paced a hole through various floors on the residential side of the tower, he took a quick shower, dressed in a flattering but comfortable designer sweatpants and polo combo and made himself at home on the obscenely large living room sofa on his own, private penthouse floor.

He was up and running towards the elevator when Friday’s voice notified him of the woman entering the elevator on the employee floor. Tony tousled his hair, adjusted his glasses, fiddled with the drawstring of his pants.

The woman was wearing casual office wear, pants and a loose blouse, a lab coat loosely draped over her arm and her purse hanging off the shoulder on a thin strap. Her hair was loose now, a little frizzy as if she continuously ran her hands through it. Tony quietly rejoiced at not being the only nervous one.

Clever eyes scanned the room with unhurried interest before finally landing on him. “Not too shabby, if I say so myself,” The corners of her mouth tilted in an attempt at a smile, it was obvious she was studying him.

“Thanks, I try my best,” Tony smirked. Humble he was not. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“I see a comfortable couch,” She looked to be grateful for being given the opportunity to lead this interaction. “Let’s park our behinds on it, bicker for ten minutes about a movie choice and settle on one none of us really like. Then we can tell each other our no-no zones and, well, yeah,” She started out confidently. Probably practiced in the elevator. But towards the end, her shyness took over.

For Tony, it was kind of cute. A nice change from suck-ups that flocked him at every social gathering in hopes of getting something out of him. The woman that had tossed her bag carelessly on the far end of the couch and untucked her blouse looked and felt like the exact opposite of those people. She looked willing to give.

Tony sat next to her, keeping a couple of inches of free space between them. “Food preferences? Food allergies?” He asked, tapping the food delivery application.

“Nope, and I will eat just about anything.” He felt more than saw her side-eyeing him. Both of them were jittery. So uncharacteristic for Tony, to be blushing and stammering like a high school boy. Sex was easy, but intimacy? Complex. It was addictive and eventually, painful.

Movie decisions were surprisingly easy and she said so. They settled on a Tarantino classic, an old flick neither of them had watched in a long time. As the discussion progressed, Tony used his wits to find out more about her without making it seem like an interrogation. He had run a background check on the woman and her family but those only went that far, besides, it was a great opportunity to practice the tips Natasha had shared with him at one point or another. Being friends with spies had it’s perks.

They ate their food until their bellies were full. A comfortable, relaxing stupor, being warm from the inside out.

Tony noticed when the woman spoke, she spoke with her hands. She had caught herself grasping his forearm multiple times when they’d got more passionate about their discussion. And what Tony loved the most was that she refused to apologize. He saw a kindred soul in the woman; quiet until something struck her fancy. Then, she became a whirlwind of ideas and opinions.

In no time, it became a natural action to extend his arm and wrap it around her shoulders, reclining backwards. There was little grace in laying belly-up like a dead fish but the woman didn’t seem to mind. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she laid down sideways, throwing a leg over one of his own.

Her palm traced the outline of his arc reactor when something on the screen caught her in a moment of intense interest. Tony preferred to avoid the cursed thing - scars around it definitely did not do any favour to his aging, marked body - but he found himself exhaling the tension when it was obvious the woman really did not care. An occasional quiet hum of satisfaction was the only noise that came from her: he noticed the sound escaped her lips every time his thumb began fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse and rubbed against her arm.

He was quite content. It was warm, he was surrounded by so much warmth.

The hug was mutual when she left home, both of them comfortable with the gesture for people who had met in a rather unconventional way.

She started coming over a couple of times a week, a quiet evening of the best takeout in NYC and (mostly) interesting movies. A solace, always a single e-mail away.

Tony saw her in the cafeteria once or twice; he appreciated the brief, tiny secretive grin she gave him out of her friend’s eyesight. She never approached him. He was grateful for that. He didn’t want to deal with all the drama and all the fuss surrounding incidents between him and his employees. It was nobody’s business what any of them did after clocking out - and him and his cuddle buddy, they weren’t even fucking, for Thor’s sake.

Maybe they would get there someday. Or maybe they won’t. It was only now for Tony. The rare free Saturday night he had, he truly took a vacation from all the bullshit and lured her in with promises of very expensive wine, her favourite New York style pizza and the willingness to entertain watching a few of those funny YouTube videos she liked.

They did watch them and Tony didn’t mind. He stepped over the irrational fear and the initial discomfort and curled up around her, hiding his face in the soft cotton of her worn hoodie, his own breath tickling his face in warm puffs. The hand running through his hair was tender like it never was with Pepper - his ex was far too preoccupied to baby her grown-up boyfriend. But the woman moulded to his body like an extension of himself was happy to do so. Tony’s hair was longer now and it glided perfectly along the woman’s palms.

His heart was steady, thumping in his ears, overshadowing the noises coming from the TV. He exhaled and felt her other hand begin tracing circles on his back, as if she saw the stress and the bitterness leave his body with every caress, every brush of their bodies. Maybe she did?

He held onto her, held her back like she’d held him. Safekeeping the warmth inside of him. Guarding his peace.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Shirakumo Oboro headcanons for @shigapocky because they wanted to know about them!

I'm posting them under the cut because this is mostly spoilers about the manga, if you haven't read what happened to Shirakumo and who he is related to, please be careful.

His hair is really fluffy and people love to mess with it. Depending on how he feels or if he wants to, his hair can change colors! So can his eyes, because they act like clouds in the sense that they can go dark gray with electric bolts here and there if he's angry. They can go snow white if he's in shock. His eyes can become watery blue and his hair can fall on his back if his way too sad.

He's really sensitive, even when he smiles all the time. He pays attention to how the persons around him are feeling and he tries his best to cheer them up. That being said, when he was a kid he tried to repress his own feelings and emotions to avoid bothering others. That's why nowadays he loves going on late walks, because he can think and let things out in peace. He's not as closed as he was before. He has a couple of friends he trust in and they help him when times get rough.

Aizawa Shota and him got use to taking naps together. Shota was always tired and Oboro was very cuddly. Mic would found them laying around and he would either join them, because they looked very comfy and he couldn't help it, or he would wake them screaming. Shota would ask for five minutes more while Oboro laughs.

His quirk can adapt and fuse with other quirks. For example, he would love Denki. Can you imagine Denki and Oboro using their quirks in a combo to create a tiny thunderstorm? Plus if Present Mic joins them, because you would have the sound.

If Oboro was alive, I think he would also be a teacher like Mic and Aizawa. I think he would teach in General Ed, which means he would have met Hitoshi Shinso first. That's amazing. Oboro would immediately recognize him as a mini-Shota and would have adopt him on the spot.

On the other hand, I'd have adore having Oboro interacting with the League of Villains. Mostly because he would have take the time to understand them and help them. It'd have help everyone a lot.

If you allow me, I'd even dare to imaging an au where Oboro is alive and he is the one who guides the League of Villains out of their destructive ways.

He would have adopted Tenko after the accident with his family. He would have found the kid roaming the streets and since his quirk can't be decayed and he would have helped the kid jump into his cloud, right to the police department. Tenko would have stayed some (not so great) years with Gran Torino, after the old man noticed he was the grandson of Nana Shimura.

Later, after his graduation and first three years of his pro-hero career, Oboro would have taken Tenko to live with him. 21 years old Oboro trying to take care of 10 years old Tomura? Yes, as adorable and chaotic as it sounds.

Around that time and during some trip, he would have found a kid training with his fire quirk on a peak. Todoroki Touya would have been a force to reckon with, for sure. Oboro would have figured out about Endeavor, but he would have been discrete. Let's think that Oboro would have pretend to be amazed by his quirk and he would have asked him to train with him, just so they could become better. Knowing Touya, he would have said no at first, but Oboro would have argued with him until

Touya would have told his dad about it. Endeavor wouldn't have been so happy, but eventually he would have no other option but to let it happen. Specially because neither Rei no Endeavor knew what to do to help Touya.

Now we have Oboro with a little adoptive son and a little apprentice.

Another amazing fact: you can bet Aizawa and Mic would have co-parent Tenko with Oboro the same way they used to co-parent stray cats. And you have the amazing Tenko-Touya dynamic.

Needless to say, that gives us an explanation for the whole "You're amazing, Ereaserhad" thing. Aizawa is Tenko's favorite pro-hero. Touya would be slowly learning to use his quirk to give him cover and support while using his physical strength and his abilities to fight the villains, just like Oboro and Aizawa were used to.

Oboro would have been as popular as Present Mic and Midnight. I can imagine Touya going to UA (it's a NEED to have him in General Ed just for the Todoroki drama) after turning 15 and Oboro just doing the welcoming speech of "This is your hero academia".

And that's the story of how things could have been in a perfect world. Well, maybe not perfect. If you want some angst, you can have All Might and Oboro fighting together against AFO because the creepy dude wants to kidnap Tenko. You can even imaging AFO finally kidnapping Tenko, but Oboro refuses to leave his side so you have the whole Oboro-Kurogiri arc, except Oboro doesn't die and doesn't become completely Kurogiri. They fuse and you have powered up Oboro.

But that's a story for another day, maybe even a fanfic someday.

[slothgiirl]

the trash pile: alex turner x reader

The cybernetic augmentation juts out from her temple, leading down to her chin, the metal a dull grey. Nothing says belter more than slap job augmentations, Alex thinks as she smiles at him, reaching out with her hand to him.

He takes it.

She's pretty from what he can see from the dim yellow lights in the club. The augmentation somehow complementing her already well formed cheekbones. A mess of bleached blonde hair falling down her shoulders.

And she's already offered, dragging him out onto the floor shamelessly. He'd rather dance with a beautiful woman than stand around drinking and having to listen to all his friends talk about people, things, he's unfamiliar with.

They've moved on.

The floor flashes bright blue to the beat of the music. Too loud to carry a conversation. Too loud to think. Alex can finally stop overthinking, what he's done since he landed on Tranquility base six hours ago.

Her touch is solid and confident, hands on his shoulders as she laughs, one hundred percent in the moment. He doesn't think he's ever been like that. Her ease is as natural as Alexa's charm.

His gaze flickers back to the table they'd been sharing, but they've dispersed into the club. He can't see a trace of any of his friends. Matt had long since left, having a ceremony to wake up for. "Tomorrow," he'd grinned, promising a night of debauchery.

"Hey," Taylor calls into his ear, bringing his attention back to her, blue eyes like the sky back on earth. None of the gaudy recreations of sky broadcasted through the colonies. Mars was said to not even bother, letting it's people grow up with an orange sky.

She smiles, tilting her head, before leaning in.

And wow, Alex really has been alone for too long, as her lips on his send his heart beat into a frenzy. Blood rushing in his ears like a teenage boy all over again. It isn't real, but he thinks in that second he loves her.

Alex always has been a romantic.

They leave the club together. The corridors are still red for the night. The one thing he hadn't missed. Even Ceres had better artificial lighting mods.

"I've got to go to work," Taylor tells him bluntly, "but you should give me your number. I think we could have a lot of fun together." She looks at him with hopeful eyes, biting her lower lip. He wants to kiss her again.

But, he'll be gone the day after tomorrow. The entire base holds too many ghosts for him to feel entirely comfortable. It makes him keep looking over his shoulder, expecting Josh or Julian. Two people he's long since lost touch with.

"I'm actually not staying that long," he admits as she leads them through the corridors. Alex can still recognize the alcoves he and Matt would take smoke breaks in. Which turn would lead them back to the lifts. Another life.

"That's a shame."

He chuckles. Before his mind catches up with his tongue, "wait, did you say you're going to work now?"

"Yeah. Its so fucking boring," Taylor says, stopping besides the lifts. "Coms graveyard shift." She rolls her eyes.

"I don't blame ya," he admits. Alexa had worked the coms. She'd always complained about having to go thirty seven floors below, bundled up in jackets. Since it was less populated, the government enacted more energy saving features.

"Maybe we'll see each other again in the drift," she grins suggestively, right as she steps into the lift.

Alex watches the doors closed, before he turns around, deciding to go find an open store. He could go for some more coffee while he's here. Maybe even stock up on it. It shouldn't be hard. The Base wasn't a residential area. Tourists were coming and going as well as SFN members.

There was the launchpad.

He lets himself wander. Too buzzed to be as tired despite the early call time he has in the morning. It would be just his luck to miss Matt's big promotion because he'd overslept after having traveled a month to be here.

It's not hard to find an open bodega. The open sign flashing green in the dim of the night.

Maybe he should've gotten the night vision implants after all. Miles never shut up about it. How easy it was to make his way about different colonies even during night cycles. And you could only tell if you were looking for the little silver ring around the iris.

Alex slips inside, making a bee line for the food. It's been hours since he last ate. At this point a cup of noodles and instant coffee sound like a dream. He gets the little powdered donuts as well. Then goes for the liquid milk creamer.

Who knows when he'll next have that option. No one had yet to figure out how to increase cows milk production in space. And powdered never tasted the same.

He looks at the fruit. Incredibly overpriced since it's a bodega. But apples and oranges. . .Alex could still remember the taste of fresh squeezed orange juice his mother would make. She'd cut them all open, let him squeeze the juice out before sucking on the pulp.

Alex grabs the smallest oranges.

There's no reason not to splurge. He has the money for it. And work is never hard to come by with his skill set. There's a large market for the skills SFN ensigns have, but most of those ensigns just stay with the navy.

He turns to go pay for his small haul, but the sight of a woman staring out of a faux porthole stops him in his tracks.

Her profile could not hide how beautiful she was, her gaze caught by the live feed of the earth on the other side of the moon. Romantic dark eyes gazing into the side of the bodega, her questionable egg salad sandwich forgotten in her hand. The bump in her prominent nose only served to make her profile more striking.

"That's not actually the earth," Alex starts gently, catching her attention. "Ya know." She turns to him, trying to hide the fact that she'd jumped, startled by his presence. And doing a damn good job at brushing off the surprise.

He was right. She's beautiful. Well formed full lips. Her dark hair tucked a braid, looking better in trousers and patched up hoodie than most people could dressed to the nines. Her shoes stick out from the casual ensemble, patent red leather with a split toe. There's the hint of dark circles under her eyes, probably from a missed nights sleep.

And a scattering of light scars like stars by her left cheekbone.

"I know," she responds, "I just never thought I'd ever be this close to the earth."

"You could take a trip to the other side and see the real thing," he muses, unable to hide the longing in his voice. Alex knew in his bones he'd never step foot on earth again. Never walk the streets in Sheffield or London again. But he couldn't help but wish for a miracle.

She shakes her head, the warmth in her eyes receding as she closes herself off. "Can't. Have to meet with a friend and then go back."

"Must be a good friend if you've come all this way."

She shrugs noncommittally, "He's more of an acquaintance of a friend. I've never actually met the man. But things being as they are," she explains, "it's best done in person."

Alex is now intrigued, a red flag raised in the back of his mind that still flies away information happening in the corner of his eye just in case. It makes him a damn good private investigator. "Mysterious."

"Forgive me for not spilling all my secrets to a stranger," she notes, arching a brow.

He can't help but chuckle. "Ya got me there love. Let's try something else."

"Like what," she asks, the corners of his lips turning up.

"How are you finding our moon?" The moon might not think it was the earth's, and the government sure wasn't, but the moon still spun around the earth the way it had for millions of years.

"Disappointing," she admits, frowning, "Ceres is livelier. And would it kill them to use brighter lighting?"

"Austerity measures," Alex shrugs. It had been the answer for as long as he'd been alive.

"From what," she asks, tilting her head, a smirk forming on her lips, "there's no war or reason for shortages."

"Just repeating the party line," he admits.

"Well," she raises her sandwich like a sad little white flag, "I've got to get going. It was nice meeting you."

"Can I get your number?"

Surprising him, she shakes her head, "No. I doubt we'll ever meet again. I don't plan to stay on the moon for long."

"Lucky for you," he counters, following her to the sales woman, built like a rugby player, "I'm not from the moon. So there's hope yet for our paths to cross."

She snorts, digging around her pockets for money, slowly building up a pile of change to pay with. "Let me guess," she says knowingly, as her eyes look him over, taking in his hair now curling past his ears, the navy blue sweater and white shirt combo that had felt smart earlier but had wrinkled in the course of the night. "you're from earth."

Alex answers bashfully, "born there." He always felt like apologizing for having been born on Earth. For having spent his childhood breathing in air without a care. For not knowing how precious an atmosphere was.

"Well I don't plan to go to earth," she trails off, waving her receipt away.

"Neither do I." He hands the lady a bill too large for what he's bought and follows her out the door, not bothering for his change. "But I take it there's no way I can convince you to give me a number?"

"None."

"How about a name," he offers. Alex had not seen one person that he'd bothered to chase in years. And here she was, indulging him as though he was a stray puppy she had fed once and now followed her around in hopes of more scraps.

"Yours first," she snipes back, not missing a beat.

"Alex." He doesn't ever bring up his last name. Too much weight. A famous family. And an infamous past. Being just Alex was a luxury.

"Tisiphone."

A name fitting for someone born in the jovian system. Maybe even Dione. But Dione, while a newer colony, wasn't bloody awful for someone to want to leave. It had to be-"Titian," he guesses. The wild west of space. SFN cadets hated getting assigned there. Johanna had said the worst part was the perpetual twilight.

Too many crevices to hide in.

"Yes," she responds, "and hopefully never again."

"If we ever meet again," the romantic in him already imagining them crossing paths in a Callisto settlement, planting trees for the rest of their lives and learning to work wood, "can I take you out for a cuppa?"

Tisiphone laughs, smiling tight lipped, "If it happens then I'll say yes earth boy."

** ** ch 2

The ceremony drags on.

They all sit, gathered around the Kennedy Hab, the first large permanent building on the dark side of the moon. The benches are as uncomfortable as ever, as Alex gazes down at a sea of navy uniforms all with various ranks on their right shoulders. He's seated right next to Alexa. The boys down there somewhere with Matt.

It's an SFN event so Alex's paranoia is right for once. The second glances the captains and commanders threw his way were knowing. They recognized him.

It sets his teeth on edge.

Alexa pats his knee, comfortable around him despite their shared history. Johanna besides him with her fiancé. They both keep glancing at each other, infinite in their whispering. He wants that.

"I'll throw hands at anyone who says anything," Alexa reassured him. Looking especially nice in a long red dress. She's not single. But it clearly isn't serious enough if she didn't bring him along to celebrate her friends.

"That would make it worse," Alex responds, keeping his gaze forward, careful to keep his face neutral. It usually wasn't a problem. That being his default expression. But this was bringing up events from his past he's long since buried.

"Derek was supposed to be here," Alexa says to try to distract him, "you would've liked him. Life of the party. Miles and him had a one night stand and now we're all friends."

"Well that's not saying much considering Miles will sleep with anything."

She laughs, "True. But even Nick gets jazzed to hang out with him and you know how hard it is to get close to Nick."

"He's just careful about who his friends are," Alex acknowledges. Unlike Nick, Alex was just terribly bad at opening up.

Nick was just picky. "That says something good about little old me." Alexa twirls her hands over her head. Sticking her nose in the air. "Not such a mess after all."

"You've never been a mess," he tells her, watching as they begin to call up all the newly minted commanders. Matt shouldn't take long. H being closer to the front of the alphabet.

"Yeah but I've never been particularly good at anything but charming my way into things," she shrugs shamelessly. Alexa wasn't the type to lose sleep over her insecurities.

The Admiral present at the ceremony, Marcus Kapoor, speaks clearly over the microphone, "Commander Matthew Helders."

Alexa and Johanna both stand up, yelling, "congrats!" Alex claps as loud as he can for a beat longer than the rest of the room as Matt shakes hands with the Admiral.

Alex remembers his own ceremony seven years ago now. It had been a smaller affair. His entire career accelerated by his talent.

He swallows back the bitter lump that forms in his throat. There's no reason to cry over spilled milk, his father had often told him back on earth.

Try telling that to anyone who doesn't live on earth: most milk is powdered in space.

He finally lets his eyes search through the crowd, trying to spy the man who'd once been his great mentor and friend. But if Julian is present, Alex doesn't see him among the uniforms. He's sure that he'd know Julian anywhere. His hair perpetually sticking out wildly like he'd just woken from a nap, streaks of color running through.

It was a welcome sight from the mandated navy and neutral colors the SFN preferred. Everything was done to keep the SFN neutral, trying to avoid any conflicts between the colonies. And especially between Mars and Earth.

Unable to wait, Alex asks Alexa, "did Julian come?" Julian and Matt had never been as close as Alex had been to the older man, one of the rare people to turn down a promotion. But Alex thinks Julian still would've come and cheered Matt on.

Drinking at bars until morning talking about life and chatting about their mutual obsession with vintage terran music cemented friendship like nothing else.

She frowns, lines forming between her brows. "Captain Casablancas?"

"Yeah," Alex nods, a nervousness creeping into the lining of his stomach. Julian had also been the only person present during the incident that had chosen not to testify. If he had, Alex had agonized long hours over that large IF, he'd probably have been given a far harsher sentence.

And it looked like the man had finally accepted the rank of Captain.

Alexa places her hand on his arm, doe eyes settling on his, before gently attempting to break the news, which given what she was saying, was impossible to break gently. "You haven't heard?"

"No."

"Julian's dead Alex," Alexa explains, her hand anchoring him to reality, even as his world lurches, "some accident with a faulty seal."

Fuck.

What the bloody hell!

Alex clenches his jaw. Julian deserved more than dying in a preventable accident. He was, and remained the only person to have jumped tracks at the SFN, going from maintenance to exploration.

"I'm sorry," she tries, patting his arm with her hand. "I know you two were close. This is sort of the worst way to hear the news isn't it?"

"How long ago," Alex asks in lieu of responding to her. Julian. Alex could hardly call him a friend anymore.

By the time he'd worked up the courage to message the man, Julian hadn't bothered responding at all. A cold message that Alex could understand.

He hadn't tried to contact him again.

"Three weeks."

Alex nods, fixing his gaze on the stage. The names being spoken, called up on stage, meaningless now that Matt had gone.

He'd been traveling to the Base.

No one had bothered to tell him.

They make their way down to Matt, navigating the crowd who are also here to celebrate their relatives and friends. Alexa led the way, cutting through the crowd like a knife through butter.

Jo and her fiancé hold hands. His eyes never leave her form as she leads on.

Alex frowns.

He'd thought. . .he'd thought, when Matt had first met him upon arrival at the base's landing pad, that he could slide back into his old life. Pick up where he'd left off. Maybe get a job here permanently.

Alex hadn't realized how lonely he'd been until he'd sat around and watched all his friends eat and drink. Easily communicating with each other they way only tightly knit groups of friends could. Finishing each other's sentences.

They had once been like that with Alex. But years in between meetings left him out of the loop. It didn't help that he had chosen to self isolate. Choosing to take jobs that left him without a permanent home, spending his free time tucked into various hotel rooms.

"Alexander Turner," a voice calls out.

He turns, faced with a black woman in a sleek khaki green suit, a moon police officer uniform. Her hair is as sleek as the press of her suit. Dark curls dusted with grey hairs.

"Yes," he asks, halting with great hesitation. The last time he'd dealt with the moon police, they were ensuring he was under house arrest during his trial. For his safety they'd told him over and over.

"I'm Major Gabriela Moss," she tells him, sticking her hand out with great formality. "If you'd please come with me," she continues, as he shakes her hand. "There's a job I'd like to discuss with you."

Swallowing any nervousness he has, he nods. How bad could it be? Probably some white collar crime that the police don't want to deal with. Alex could stock up on lots of coffee with the money. "Lead the way."

She takes him to the precinct, located next to the base. Tranquility Base fell under SFN jurisdiction. But the residential areas ringing the building were left to the MP 505 precinct.

Her office is just like every other police office. Bright disorienting lights. Cream walls, with no decor. A desk bolted down to the floor, in case the artificial gravity malfunctions. And a photo of her wife and kids tilted just out of his view.

"What's the job?" Alex wonders if some idiot tried to rob the casino that was right within the base’s building. Trying to steal from SFN was asking for it.

"A man was found murdered in residential bloc 571 this morning," she explains, lighting up her monitor. A photo of an older man with a walrus mustache came up on the screen.

"Isn't homicide your department," Alex asks, twisting his ring around his finger.

"Usually," Major Moss admits, back straight, hands on the desk. "But this man had a false identification bracelet. According to our records he was born on the Moon. But when my officers requested his file from the Bloc listed, nothing appeared."

"You think he was hiding?" Only criminals bothered to falsify ID bands. But why the moon? He could see why a fugitive from the law or a crime boss would come to the moon, but to stay here this long?

Even earth was easier to get lost in, among billions.

"Yes," she surmises, "and for quite a few months. How he's gone undetected this long is a mystery."

"So you'd like to save your skin and sweep this all under the cover." Alex can see a coverup as it happens. The MPs would be humiliated at having let a fugitive run wild for this long.

But, he probably wasn't a criminal if he spent this long without so much as a word. Probably fleeing loan sharks back on some asteroid. Maybe from Titan.

The murder must have landed yesterday. Within the week at most.

"Will you take the job on," Major Moss asks, "there's more information I have if you agree to take on the case."

Alex sighs. He's intrigued. But taking on this case would mean spending more time on the moon which is both a good and bad thing. He hasn't had a proper chat with any of the lads since he last saw Matt on Vesta nearly two years ago now.

But he isn't exactly at ease this close to SFN. At least in the belt, there's lots of stations with little to no navy presence. Callisto's base was generally isolated from the rest of the population due to the way in which the colony on Callisto had developed.

A man's dead.

And from what he can tell, Major Moss would be more than happy for the case to go cold and never have to explain to her superiors how a man went undetected for so long.

But why bother?

Alex can't understand why the man needed to falsify his identity only to sit around. Unless he wasn't a criminal but innocently caught up with the wrong crowd.

It happened easily enough.

"Why me," Alex asked, still considering how suspicious it looked that the MP were giving away a case just because of the implications the man's murder had. The IDB read Sidney Trojan which made Alex laugh a little inside. Whoever had made the ID had a certain sense of humor. "I'm sure you've read my record by now."

Major Moss nods, leaning back in her metal chair, "Mutiny and treason are certainly high charges. But Mr. Turner, If I am being frank, I am more concerned right now with keeping the peace in my precinct. The last thing I want is any belter extremist to start making baseless accusations about how someone who is more than likely one of their own was treated."

"I'm not a belter." Alex had spent enough time among belters to know, no matter how much time he spent on Vesta or Pallas, he'd never be one of them. Being born and raised there was what made you a belter for the rest of your life. Johanna never bothered to hide the augments along her spine, jutting out like filled out ports. Held her chin up proudly despite the harassment she got, and proceeded to destroy them all in combat training.

"But you have spent time among them," the woman argues, revealing how little she knows and understands about belters. Major Moss had probably never left the moon. Never spent time amongst people in the belt, in the places the SFN never went. "My men are mostly from here or earth. You're my best option."

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. It didn't seem like a trap to lock him up after all these years. Just a very ignorant MP major trying to do her job. "Alright," Alex nods. "Show me the surveillance tapes."

The older woman smiles, but no warmth reaches her eyes, a picture of cold professionalism, as she ignites the screen. The tapes start playing almost immediately. The night vision casting everything into grayscale in the corridors. The older residential buildings hadn't anticipated the amount of people that would live on the moon, the walkways connected the blocs only fitting three people at a time, a nightmare in an emergency. They were colorless concrete slabs, the metal having long gone dull.

Time stamped to 05:46 am.

A single figure appears, walking into bloc 571, looking like any person would after a long shift. In jeans and a loose hoodie, holding a very sad convenience store sandwich. A profile he wouldn't soon forget, complete with split toe boots.

Tisiphone.

Alex tries to justify her appearance. The death hadn't happened until 7 am. She must've been meeting her friend in one of the habs in the bloc. But he'd never been one to discount a coincidence.

It seemed that they would be having a chat sooner than anticipated under less than favorable circumstances. He just had to track her down.

His eyes watch the screen as the time ticks by, creeping closer to the time of death.

She claimed to be here to visit a friend which could very easily have been a lie to cover up meeting her potential victim. Tisiphone hadn't been here for very long, no one would willingly choose to eat convenience store sandwiches if they'd spent time here to get other food. Alex wasn't discounting the possibility of her commitment to looking inconspicuous at 5 in the morning, but then, if Sidney Trojan had feared for his life there would've been a struggle.

Someone would have heard in those older habs.

The time stamp reads 6:24am.

Tisiphone leaves the bloc, taking the passageway leading back to Tranquility. Mr Trojan would still be alive. Did she have an accomplice? Or is Alex making the wrong connection.

The time stamp reads 7:46 am. Mr Trojan would've been dead by now.

7 am was hardly the time for a murder to be committed. People going to work. So many witnesses. They must have been desperate. But the tapes proved useless to narrow down any suspects. Too many people, a perfect crowd to hide in. So there was that advantage. As well as, "I need all the records of the passenger manifests arriving for the last three days on the dark side of the moon and today's departures."

"Alright," she replies, holding out her hand.

Alex hands over his com. Letting her synch it up to her system and sending the files over.

"Good luck Mr. Turner."

This time, Alex does roll his eyes as he leaves her office.

Tisiphone had claimed to be from Titan, so that's the first thing he checks. Three days sound about right. He also highlights any belter arrivals. But apart from one family two days before, no one has come from the belt.

He finds the name he's looking for. Tisiphone Velazques, arriving from Hygiea the same night he had. Born on Titian twenty two years ago according to her IDB. It said a lot about how pathetic Alex was that he was currently finding a potential date on a suspect list.

She might still be innocent. But she was the only lead.

If she's a criminal, she'll be staying off grid, not wanting to leave her IDB just anywhere. But, being through, Alex checks Tranquility Hotel anyways, sending a message.

Want to surprise my girlfriend T. Velazques. It's our anniversary and I got back from a trip into Tethys four sols early. Has she checked in yet?

People were really stupid and easily fooled. Alex had learned that in the last few years.

Then he checks his messages. Twenty seven texts from his friends. Two missed calls from Matt. Shit. He'd forgotten all about Matt.

** *** ch 3

Matt clasps an arm over his shoulders, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything about Julian. I thought you knew and didn't want to talk about it."

Alex considers coming clean, but decides letting Matt think this is about Julian is easier. "No one tells me anything anymore."

The taller man sighs, "you must think I'm a wanker for not even telling you. Julian always asked me how you were doing you know."

Alex shakes his head. "I tried-It doesn't matter anymore. I just think it's bloody awful to have died so young in an accident of all things."

"The idiot engineers better have been court martialed," Matt comments, as they follow behind their friends to a bar in the casino. They've all been casting looks towards Alex when they think he's not looking, like he's a bomb about to go off.

Things can never go back to the way they were.

They get a few pitchers of beer. Singing Matts praises at every sip, taking the piss about how he's going to be the worst commander ever. Alexa's boyfriend, looking tall, dark and handsome, slips into the conversation with ease while Alex, drinks and checks his phone for a response.

"Alexa's boy toy," Johanna mutters under her breath to Alex. "Does the books for one of the gambling halls."

Alex nods. But finds he doesn't care. All that earlier anxiety about his leftover feelings for Alexa, his first love, gone when he realizes there's no sting as she turns to kiss her boyfriend.

He looks down at his com, refusing a refill of beer when he realizes the hotel's written him back. With a digital key and their congratulations. There goes the supposed privacy and protections hotels were supposed to offer their clients.

But this meant he was now leaning to Tisiphone being innocent. But he could tell she was connected to Mr. Trojan somehow. A gut feeling that t9ld him he was barking up the right tree. She might be able to tell him who would want the old man dead and why.

Alex excuses himself from the celebration, pointedly ignoring Nick's suspicious gaze as he leaves.

He stops and picks up a bottle of wine and a quart of strawberries, each the size of his smallest nail with a hint of red at the tip, just in case anyone in the hotel decides to verify any of his information. He can play the part.

Alex presses the elevator up to floor 10, brings up the key on his com, when the machine asks for verification.

The doors slide shut and Alex tries to formulate a plan.

He can't frighten his only suspect-link to the crime. A man was murdered and if he doesn't solve it, justice will never be served. It's his good conscience that's going to get him in trouble all over again.

The hallway is empty.

A tacky red coat of paint that's made worse by the orange lighting. The crimson hue edging towards black. Hardly a happy atmosphere.

Alex runs his hand over the rail, a vestige from the days before antigravity, as he makes his way to room 1004.

Unlike the lobby, the floor is still metal plates welded together. Shiny compared to the rest of the place.

The casino had seen better days.

And more occupied days.

Hesitating outside the door, he places an ear near the seal, hoping that Tisiphone isn't there. It would give her the advantage if she turns out to be the murder.

Better for her to be out. Gives him a chance to look around.

He takes a deep breath and unlocks the door with the key. It slides open smoothly, revealing mustard walls and a plush navy carpet flecked with gold. There's a small bed on one side of the wall, a black backpack laying carelessly on it.

The small cabinet looks untouched, but Alex still goes through every drawer, making sure he misses nothing, peaking into the bathroom and combing the medicine cupboard.

There's a needle and dental floss. A complimentary bottle of toothbrush tabs laying in its side.

Needle and floss.

For an injury, Alex surmises. Perhaps a fresh one that Mr Trojan had managed to inflict while defending himself? It wasn't the easiest way to treat an injury, but it was the way to go if you didn't want to draw any attention.

He slips back into the small main room, and begins to go through the backpack. It looks standard issue, the fabric a vegetable leather nylon mixture that wouldn't be out of place in an SFN pack. But he doesn't recognize it from any planetary police force.

Inside there's a plasma gun with two full charges. Shrapnel in a jar. An extra shirt along with a lined jacket, also black. And a small copper data box.

He checks the jackets pockets, finding two extra IDBs. Both blank.

It's all very incriminating.

And he didn't think to bring a gun along himself.

Alex removes the charge from the plasma gun, using the pillowcase to ensure he doesn't wipe away any fingerprints, tossing both of the charges into the bottom drawer of the cabinet. And leaves the gun on top of the blanket.

Then he takes a seat and waits.

No one would leave a gun with no plans to come back and get it. Plasma guns were hard to come by. Especially for civilians on the right side of the law.

It was just his luck that the first woman he feels any connection with, ends up tied up in criminal activity.

The whoosh of a door sliding open jolts him out of his thoughts.

Alex sits up straight, deciding he looks less confrontational if he's sitting down. Besides, years of training haven't left. His body still remembers combat maneuvers. He still wakes up at 0600 and goes through basic training like clockwork.

Even when he goes back to sleep right after.

A red boot steps inside.

Tisiphone holds a brand new pair of ear pods, still in their case. The moment she spots him sitting casually in her bed, her almond eyes narrowing in suspicion. Her grip tightens on the case, before she schools her features carefully blank.

In better lighting, the scars marring her cheekbones are more prominent. Flecks of silver against honeyed skin.

"'ello again," Alex says, giving a small wave, strands of his hair falling into his eyes with the movement.

She frowns, crossing her arms defensively in front of her. "Why are you here? Who even let you in?"

"I asked nicely," he explains, "terrible hotel service if you ask me. But as for why I'm here, you wouldn't happen to know who Sidney Trojan is?"

Tisphones lips form a tight line, her stance edging dangerously close to someone expecting a fight. Weight distributed well between her legs. "He's dead isn't he. Someone killed him."

" 'fraid so," Alex nods.

"Who do you work for?" Her eyes scrutinize him, as if waiting for him to strike.

Alex raises both his hands up in the air. "No one. The MP of the precinct where Mr. Trojan lived asked me to take the case on."

She doesn't move. "Earth then? Or some secret division of the SFN?"

It was a popular belief that the SFN held a secret military division. Especially among belters and martians.

"You don't seem surprised to hear he's been murdered," Alex observes, not missing a thing, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

"Lots of people wanted him dead."

Tisiphone must have decided he wasn't a threat. She takes a step closer, waking into the bathroom and grabbing the meager supplies, tossing them into her bag, unbothered by Alex's presence right next to her. He's incredibly aware of the small distance between them as her hands make quick work of packing, ignoring the wine and fruit he'd brought: the small distance between her hands and his thigh.

But he doubts that there's a chance in hell she'll go out with him after today. She has the same determined look on her face Johanna had right as she'd punched him day 1 of hand to hand combat. A woman who doesn't take anyone's shit.

Alex snorts, "mind telling me who wanted him dead?"

"SFN. Earth. Mars. The Children of Prometheus. Park Vader's cronies back on Titan. Maybe even Park himself. Take your pick."

"Why," Alex can't help but ask, standing up as she slings her bag over her shoulder. If he lets her walk out now, he'll likely never set eyes on her again. And she has become his only connection to this man's murder.

He can't just let her go.

"He knew too much," Tisiphone shrugs.

"I can't just let you disappear," Alex tells her, sliding between her and the door. It was a dangerous position to be in. He keeps his hands up, trying to reassure her.

"Whoever killed Ivan is going to be after me too," she states, weighing her options.

"Let me help you."

She laughs humorlessly, "I'm long past help. I’ll only drag you down. And you seem like a nice enough man despite everything."

"Despite being born on earth," Alex guesses. War hadn't touched the system in a hundred years, yet there was a lot of bitterness from the colonies over earth. Over the imagined bountiful resources. The air, breathable unlike in so many other places.

He'd lived in enough places in the system to know that it was hard living in every corner of the solarium federation.

"Good bye Alex." Her dark eyes hold his gaze, waiting for Alex to step aside. He isn't sure how long her patience will last.

"If you leave the moon now," Alex threatens, "I'll have no choice but to find you suspect under the circumstances."

Tisiphone glares at him, "are you an officer? Am I under arrest?"

"No."

"Then you have no jurisdiction," she counters.

"But I was able to find you. I'm the only person who could've made that connection." Her shoes had given her away. Too distinctive for anyone trying to hide out, Alex notes. "Everyone else would've written you off. You played the part of a tired commuter perfectly. Your face isn't visible enough for facial recognition. And the timing is wrong."

"So you have to know I didn't kill him," Tisiphone observes.

"I do." Alex nods. "And I also know that you came here for a reason. I'm willing to bet it's why Ivan is dead now. Help me catch his killer and get some people off your back."

“Why do you care so much about him? He’s just another nameless belter to you people.”

He shakes his head, “because a man’s dead. He deserves justice.”

"How do I know I can trust you," Tisiphone asks, her knuckles relaxing their grip on her bag.

"I could've arrived here with the MP," Alex states, "but I'm here all on my own. Because I believe you're innocent."

She sighs. "Alright. I'll stay. But only for another twenty four hours. That's all I can give you."

He can work with that.

"Okay now let's get out of here. If I can waltz right in so can whoever killed Trojan."

"Ivan," Tisiphone corrects. "His name was Ivan Schlossberg."

"And is Tisiphone your real name," Alex asks.

She doesn't meet his eyes.

** ** ch 4

His hotel room is on the top floor. A half circle window looks out into the expanse. The grey panorama, flattened by robots, is broken up by the tops of other bloc, jutting out of the landscape like hills. The sun is the only recognizable feature in the sky. All the other stars and planets are too distant to be visible.

But Alex has the map of the system imprinted into the backs of his eyes. He could tell where earth and mars fall, navigating by stars like explorers of old, even with the slight changes that arise depending on where you were in the system.

Tisiphone looks out into space, eyes full of stars, as Alex interrogates her.

"Why would the UN or Mars be after Ivan?"

"I already told you," she responds evenly, her gaze still fixed on outer space, a melancholic quality that held none of the wonder people usually had when staring into the stars, "he knew too much."

"About what," Alex presses. Earlier she had named all the major players in politics. That which all SFN members despised because it made doing their job a nightmare of red tape.

Tisiphone looks over at him, turning her whole head towards him. "He was involved with the children of prometheus. Selling information. And Park doesn't like when his people decide to leave him."

It didn't take a genius to know what kind of information would be of value to the children of prometheus. "And your mutual friend."

She swallows thickly before answering. "Told me to find Ivan. That he could help me. I don't know anything more than that. Ivan was going to leave the moon with me and explain this later."

Alex doesn't believe that for a second. Tisiphone wouldn't have left so easily that morning if Ivan hadn't given her something. But he also knows when to let things go. "And why would they also be after you?" The usual targets for the children of prometheus were high ranking UN members or members of the Martian Presidium: the operating companies on the belt that treated their workers as expendable.

Tisiphone was none of those.

She takes a seat on Alex's current bed, her knuckles white as she grips the covers, studying the much more pleasant purple carpet. Not as matted or stained as the one in her room.

Her now shoeless feet revealing mismatched socks.

"I saw something I shouldn't have seen." She bites her lip as her eyes water. Alex forces himself not to look away, wanting to give her privacy. "Someone killed my friend and covered it up. And now they want to kill me."

He takes a step towards her, kneeling down in front of her seated figure, "I'm going to help you."

"You can't help me." Tisiphone shakes her head, looking straight at him, "you can only buy me time."

She flips through the stations as Alex combs through the flight records once more. He's isn't looking for random thugs. If this is a high profiled cover up the way she is alleging, then he needs to find a slicker cover.

He checks for any terrans that've landed here in the last few days. Any native mooners with no permanent address on record: the types of people that would easily fly under the recons. The least likely to be scrutinized.

Alex finds three profiles that fit the description. Two had arrived together under the IDBs Gemma and Nick Ryan. Siblings on vacation from earth.

They were passingly related, the same brown coloring. But Alex's searching gaze found no similar features. The bone structure was all wrong. Gemma's strong, squared. While Nick had a delicateness to his features that was absent in Gemma's.

They had the look of UN division operatives. A learned blankness that helped them slip from memory.

The third was on a flight from Ceres. An older asian man: Hugh Shen. There was no way he was born on the moon and had no records of living here. Alex knew most people born on the moon didn't chance leaving.

Opening for new immigrants were few and far between.

Then there was an oily quality that reminded him of many UN cogs that surrounded his mother like gnats.

In order to be sure that they are division members, Alex'll have to go to the scene of the crime. He knows the UN’s playbook. The methods that division uses. Growing up around his mother, he couldn't not have learned something.

Though Penelope Turner was an idealist, she was willing to do what was necessary to get the job done. It's why she was such an effective politician.

He coms Major Moss, letting her know he'll need access to Ivan's hab.

"Stay here," he tells Tisiphone. "Help yourself to anything I've got."

"Anything," she asks archly, "because I could run a bath. Never had one of those."

"Then by all means," he shrugs. The water bill was bound to burn a hole in his pocket, but going through life without knowing the laziness that baths inspired was no life at all.

She rolls her eyes, shamelessly combing through Alex's meager possessions As meager as hers really. Though he didn't have the excuse of being in hiding.

Alex takes the plasma charges with him.

Major Moss, along with another woman of medium build and asian descent, meets him at the entrance to bloc 571, the white paint having long since peeled off the metal walls. The orange lights flickered, needing replacement, as he walks beside her into bloc 571. He can hear the pressure seals around the door, as it slides open, letting them inside.

While the oldest blocs on this side of the moon, their shortcomings in cramped corridors were nothing compared to the space of the older habs.

Unlike Tranquility base, and the rest of the blocs on the moon, the lights inside bloc 571 were LED and white, the costliest to maintain. A knot of tension eased up in Alex's shoulders. His mind, despite the years in space, always unconsciously yearned for earth's natural light.

"This is officer Cong Xi," Major Moss says blandly, "she'll be taking you through all our available evidence. We're receiving pressure to wrap things up as quickly as possible. There are lots of people who want to move into a hub as spacious as this."

Alex snorts. That's what they cared about.

Cong nods, smiling warmly at him as she drinks coffee from her hot pink tumbler. "Nice to meet you Alex Turner."

Which meant she'd been briefed and knew all about him. There was probably a non-SFN version of his file on her com as they spoke.

Alex had never gotten the chance to read his file after the trail. His dishonorable discharge had left him without any credentials to ask for his file without heavy redaction if he got any response at all. He'd have asked his parents if he hadn't been a coward and taken the first ship to Vesta, hell bent on drinking himself to death.

"Likewise," he responds, realizing he's waited a beat too long to respond.

With that said, the Major turns on her heel, and leaves.

"Shall we," Cong asks him, waiting for him to follow. How did such a pleasant person end up working for the MP? Had to be an idealist. Or hadn't been working for long.

He nods.

Alex takes in the bloc.

The floors dull from nearly four centuries of feet walking over it. Not a scrap of white paint left. But the walls are covered with green plexiglass, an attempt to make up for the lack of actual greenery that hadn't been planned for in old models. Even Pallas had some weeds growing among the tangle of wires.

Each door is painted a different color, giving the neighborhood character. Ivan's hab is red, with a pattern of florals overlaid.

Officer Cong hands him shoe covers and a pair of gloves, "standard procedure," she tells him with a tinge of apologies interwoven in her voice, before she unlocks the door, letting them both inside.

Like most crime scenes, the place is covered with tape and plastic to preserve the integrity. But Alex can see the coziness that Ivan Schlossberg had built inside his hab. A glass top table with mismatched but colorful plastic chairs. Books covering a side table ranging from subjects like "Bloom: a guide to space plant maintenance," to "Catching Fire."

His desk is covered with bits of computer parts. Motherboards and processor chips. Different size screens, some with cracks.

This was the picture of a man who believed himself to be safe. He wasn't planning on running at the drop of a dime. So how had they found him?

Tisiphone had entered first.

Why not kill them both at once?

Or had they believed them both to be inside and cursed themselves when they realized the girl had gotten away?

As Alex looks about the room, noting no signs of struggle, Officer Cong studies him. Her gaze curious.

The mess of computer equipment makes Alex guess that Ivan tinkered with it to communicate with whatever group he was working with, likely using it to hack information from earth and mars. The rudimentary nature of his devices would have confused the much more advanced systems Earth relied on, massive data banks in the tundra chugging along. Ivan would've also had the flexibility of pulling the system apart and rebuilding it with different bits of code each time.

A waste of time, unless you were an old man with lots of time on your hands.

His collection of parts would've been written off as eccentricity.

"You can ask," Alex finally says, when he gets tired of the awkward silence.

"Are you really the mutineer?"

It was much better than being asked if he was that traitor. Particularly bitter belters had taken the liberty of making his days hell in the beginning, knowing he wasn't about to go get help from the SFN.

He nods, looking back at the door. Division wasn't above using chemical weapons. The seals on older habs built with the care of spaceships, no one outside this hab would've noticed. "The one and only," he finally says.

While there were lots of people who had problems with the SFN, it generally wasn't seen among rank and file members.

Cong hums, slurping her coffee.

Alex peels back the plastic over a particularly large pile of electronics, his eyes searching for something small, like a computer chip or drive that would be overlooked to the untrained eye. Toxic gases needn't be in large doses to pack a punch.

"I remember the trial on the net," she comments, "it was all my parents could talk about. My whole family really . . ."

A glint of copper catches his eye. Alex keeps his face neutral, letting Cong ramble on as he plays at looking at the body outline on the couch, as if he could magically find a guilty dust bunny, slipping the casing into his hand for later.

"-guess I was too young to care about that. Too caught up with boys and the latest hairstyles."

Alex nods, trying to pay attention. But with that casing, he's sure it was division. Certain mixtures created the same symptoms in the body as a heart attack. Given his age, it created the perfect cover.

But why come in and stab him after?

Who were they trying to frame-

They were after Tisiphone.

She had led them to Ivan, Alex's thoughts come together, each piece falling into place. They had watched her since she arrived. Which meant they knew she was headed to the moon, hence the two early dispatched division agents, purposely waiting for her to leave before killing Ivan, making sure she'd be the only suspect.

But their plan had gone to the pits.

They hadn't planned on Major Moss trying to burry the case. Or that Alex would be called on.

Instead of an easy frame job, it was a cold case waiting to happen. An MP officer would've just taken Tisiphone in. Assumed that the time of death was off due to some lab error and closed the case. But their plan had gone sideways.

"Find anything," Cong asks him suddenly, having given up trying to chat when it became obvious he wasn't listening. Though why he would make small talk about the event that had sliced his life into two distinct parts, he didn't have the foggiest idea.

Alex shakes his head, "thought the scene might hold a clue." He stands up straight, faking the appearance of disappointment channeling his mother's face when he'd come home with an F. "Whatever crime boss hired the hit must've hired a couple of top notch lads."

"Oh well them," Cong continues, holding up her com for him to read, "Major Moss needs us to come in. Apparently there's been a new development in the homicide."

Alex's chest tightens. God he hopes they haven't found Tisiphone dead. Or arrested her.

No. There's no way. He'd already be under arrest for harboring a criminal. No amount of goodwill would keep him out of prison this time.

Alex had to continue under the impression that she was fine. Because no one else had linked her to this case. No one had any reason to suspect her of anything at all. "Led the way then love."

Cong, like most girls (and some boys) since Alex had turned sixteen, blushes pink, before stepping around him and leading him back to the precinct--and to Major Moss's office.

The division agents who had landed on Tranquility base as siblings named Gemma and Nick, introduce themselves as, "Agents Barnes and Khan." They're already seated in front of Major Moss, only confirming Alex's conclusion.

The capsule in his pocket feels like a block of lead, weighing him down.

There's no way they know he knows.

Except they've been tailing Tisiphone since she landed. They might already know she's sitting in his room.

He needs to get off the moon. Alex had promised Tisiphone he'd keep her safe. And this case had just gotten much bigger than a homicide.

It was the type of cover up that required a neutral party to uncover. A High ranking SFN member that would do the right thing. Unfortunately Alex had learned the hard way that organizations were never as impartial and righteous as they claimed to be.

Bloody hell.

In between two impossible choices, giving Tisiphone up or calling his old mentor Vice Admiral Homme, he wasn't sure which was worse. Would Josh Homme even care?

Or was the UN's influence great enough to buy Homme's cooperation?

"I understand that Major Moss has made the mistake of handing a homicide to a private investigator," Agent Barnes says, smiling brightly as if she hadn't just flung shit at Major Moss, who to her credit, didn't even flinch.

"I'm the private investigator," Alex responds evenly.

"They've just finished informing me," Major Moss interrupts, smoothing down the lapels of her pants suit, "that they've identified the culprit."

Agent Barnes nods, then proceeds to do the very Earth thing of pulling out an actual paper file from a jacket and displaying it on the desk. "A career criminal from Titan named Tisiphone Velasquez. We believe her employer to be some drug lord that Mr Trojan was a long time customer of. When he got clean and moved to the moon, well. . ." Barnes trails off leaving a dramatic pause before clearing his throat, "Titian didn't forget his debts."

Ivan's hab was not the home of a drug user. Or a recovering drug user. He'd never been to Titan, to the city under the ocean, but he knew enough about drug lords to know that they had more to deal with than a customer with lots of debts on a colony as secure as the moon.

But Alex can see Major Moss eat up the story, her eyes gazing over as there's one less problem for her to deal with.

"Well Mr. Turner," Major Moss turns to him, "It looks like your services are no longer needed. I'll wire you the payment promptly. Meanwhile I'll circulate the perpetrators photo and have my officers be on the lookout."

"We will be taking custody of Miss Velasquez," Agent Barnes interrupts, "she has insider knowledge of a crime ring we have been monitoring for years."

"Of course," Major Moss responds, already typing out the paperwork.

He has to get off the base. He has to take Tisiphone far from here.

Alex turns to leave, reaching the door before he hears Agent Barnes mutter pointedly under her breath, "It's a wonder Ambassador Turner hasn't resigned out of shame. No clue how he can show his face in public."

Agent Khan coughs to hide a snigger.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. It's bait. And an obvious one at that. He has more than a few scars to prove how stupid responding to it would be, but they did just insult his mother.

"What did you just say," Alex asks through clenched teeth, not turning back to look at them, robbing them of the satisfaction. Mentally, he counts to ten.

He's not going to give them an excuse to place him under arrest.

Tisiphone is counting on him.

The fact that they're baiting him instead of just following him back to the hotel room is a good sign they don't know he's hiding Tisiphone. He tries to concentrate on the and not the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

Tisiphone.

Her petite figure sitting on his bed, scrutinizing everything with an arched brow. The look in her eyes as she'd stared with a refugee's longing for their ancestral home at the image of earth, the green returning to the land after hundreds of long reclamation projects initiated by the UN.

"Nothing to trouble yourself with Alexander Turner," Agent Barnes replies patronizingly, "There is no further use for your services here."

Alex clenches his jaw, and walks out the door.

He lights a cigarette as he makes his way through the dim corridors, the orange fading into scarlet, stopping only to pick up supplies he imagines needing as they travel to space together. Not all at the same store.

Alex will have to get everything out of her, if he's going to throw in his lot with her and hope they get to the bottom of the conspiracy before they're arrested and killed. Or just killed.

What could be bad enough that the UN felt it necessary to send division agents after a woman?

The problem is the IDB has been made.

He's going to have to hope she can get another one quickly. Tisiphone, whose name is more than likely not Tisiphone as all, wouldn't have survived this long is she was stupid.

Fuck.

He really should just turn her in. Or give her a heads up and be on his way. Alex could be on Pallas in four weeks, having the most questionable weed in the system, laced with the hell knows what. Take a case every now and then. Finally make his way out to Titan.

Logan had been his favorite western growing up. Right after The magnificent Seven. He'd made Matt have stand offs against him for days after seeing it, pretending he could manipulate metal. And Titan was the new wild west of space. And still people flocked out to carve their little piece of real estate.

Humanity is ever expanding.

Alex has to press the lift button twice, cursing and lighting another cigarette when the lift's lighting system dies as he ascends up, connecting with Tranquility's passageways.

More than once, he has to stop himself from glancing over his shoulder, sure he'll see an Agent following him. Hugh Shen had been absent from their little meeting. But that didn't mean he wasn't still skulking about.

Even the air changes from the corridors to the base. It's drastic compared to Ceres where the air quality is shit everywhere you go. The base has crisp clean air that didn't leave you all cotton mouthed for the wrong reasons.

From there it's easy enough to head to his room. Alex is already flicking through the net, looking for tickets to the belt. Or maybe they should go to Callisto. It was famous for being a no extradition zone: refusing to acknowledge any authority other than theirs and SFN's by extension. The relative safety was tempting, but he couldn't plan until Tisiphone told him everything she knew.

Alex wasn't stupid enough to think she wasn't holding something back. Her earlier explanation had been as vague as she could manage given the circumstances. He had no clue who her friend was. What she had seen other than a wrongful death.

There had to be a reason behind the coverup after all.

No government went around coverup murder for no reason. It just wasn't economical.

"You have to tell me everything you know," Alex tells Tisiphone in what he hopes is a commanding voice, as he tosses his bags on the bed, plopping down. His only shortcoming as a commander had been the complete and utter lack of confidence he had when giving orders. "Division has just shown up and thrown you under the bus."

Tisiphone's hair hangs down, damp as she listlessly scrolls through the catalogue of music offered by the hotel. She flinches at his words. "I should've left when I had the chance," she tells him harshly, uncurling from the settee and moving to grab her things. She jams her feet into her boots in one swift motion, clearly having been ready to make a run for it at a moment's notice.

"You're right," Alex tries, taking out the gas casing, ensuring the glint of metal catches her eyes. "It's a coverup."

"Obviously," Tisiphone scowls.

"I'm sure they've circulated your IDB by now," he continues, "they wanted to frame you for Ivan's death. I want to know what you saw so I can help you."

"Why so they can kill you as well," Tisiphone shakes her head, "No. . .no."

"What's so important that Division would risk breaking the treaty of Schiaparelli for," Alex asks, rubbing his temples. He wasn't a politician. The inner workings of government fell to the wayside of his thoughts.

There had been no major battles fought in a hundred years but relations between colonies were always fraught with tension over resources. Those skirmishes were usually fought in the Solarium Federations regulatory body, but Alex wasn't naive enough to discount the darker talk of division--their tendency to enhanced interrogation.

"Why do you want to help me so badly," Tisiphone counters, hands on her hip, glaring down at him as if he was the reason that Division had found her at all.

"Someone should," Alex shrugs, peering up at her. The line of her body fell naturally into a defensive stance, something that could only be so natural if she'd started training when she was very young. Tisiphone wasn't an innocent civilian, but she still didn't deserve to be disposed of. "And if I don't, they'll probably kill you and throw your body in some incinerator."

"Or they'll kill us both," Tisiphone replies archly.

"I'm offering you my help if you want it."

She peers down her nose at him, her lips pressed into a flat line, the slim line of her jaw fitting in perfectly with her feline features: a cat deciding if batting the toy was worth it. Turning on her heel, stepping into the bathroom, Tisiphone orders him to, "strip."

Smart girl.

It doesn't keep the burn from making its way up his neck as she turns the refresher, the low static drowning out any background noise as she takes a seat inside the fogged glass.

Alex kicks off his boots, gratefully that he'd actually kept up with his fitness all these years as he pulls his shirt off. There's still bruising in the crook of his elbow. He doubts she misses it as she stares up at him. It's a rush of relief when he notices the scarlet on her cheeks. This is embarrassing for both of them then, as he unbuttons his trousers, before taking a seat in front of her.

"Division blew up my crew." She starts with, staring at a spot behind him, her eyes welling up with tears. "They launched a missile and it tore their ship apart." She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, shaking her head, "I'm sorry I just. . .let me start over."

"It's okay."

"Shut up Alex and let me tell this in a way that makes sense." She swallows thickly. Taking a deep breathe during which she closes her eyes before continuing. "My name is Vera Albaicin. I'm an agent of the Guoanbu. Sixty eight sols ago my crew was handpicked to participate in an interplanetary task force with the UN. It was supposed to be an easy retrieval mission. We met up with the other crew. Everything was normal."

T-Vera closes her eyes, her hands closed tightly by her sides, trying to suppress the shiver that runs down her spine. Alex wants to offer comfort, but he isn't sure there is anything he can do to make things better in this situation.

"I took an EMU suit to-it was a strange ship. More like a capsule or probe. I had just made contact when my ship was hit." She shakes her head, a desperation in her eyes at the helplessness she must keep on feeling. Not having been able to do anything to save her crew. "Space. They died in seconds. The thing is. . .the only people who would've known about the mission were the UN and MPC. Earth and mars."

Alex nods, trying to probe her as gently as possible because there is still one unanswered question, "how did you know to find Ivan."

The UN and MPC must have decided that the knowledge was better off lost after having sent a retrieval team. Something they didn't want anyone to know about it. That fact that mars and earth had cooperated at all was throwing Alex off. Weapons would make sense if it was just mars or earth. But together?

Vera shakes her head slowly, her gaze meeting his, an intense anger to their depth he had not seen before. She was digging because she was fucking mad. This was a woman seeking justice. "I can't."

"Vera," Alex utters, unable to look away, trying her real name out on his tongue. "My name is Alexander Turner. I'm kind of famous for breaking the law," he finished with a self deprecating smile.

Usually, the last thing he wanted a potential date to know was his past.

Her eyes widen, her whole body freezing up as she takes in the new information, pursing her lips in an attempt to suppress a telling gasp. But instead of recoiling in disgust as he expects her to, Vera reaches for her neck, revealing a necklace obscured by her hoodie. It's a cheap metal thing that must be of sentimental value.

She doesn't stop there, thumbing the ring at the end of the chain before meeting his gaze once more. This time there's no hard glint to her cognac eyes, but a woman at last having caught on to a life preserver. "Julian-Captain Casablancas told me to find Ivan. Trust no one-trust no one but Alex Turner," Vera admits, unable to hold his gaze. "He must have known what was coming."

It's a ring he recognizes well, a twin to his own commander ring. The classic exploration insignia: the atom. Every detail identical for Julian and Alex had received their rank at the same ceremony, only Julian had been eight years older. Already the man Alex wanted to be: wanted to be with. The man had inspired camaraderie the way a good leader should, and clearly he had managed it in a martian girl as well if she had come all this way on his word alone.

"Can I," he motions, aware of the closing distance between them. Between him and Vera. Vera. He had to get his head around that one. Same woman, different name.

No. Not the same woman.

This woman was a martian secret intelligence agent. Not some naive little girl.

She nods, closing her fist around the ring before yanking the chain in a quick motion. It snaps off. The sound like the hull of a ship nearing the end of its lifetime, creaking. Then drops the ring into his outstretched palm.

Without Alex having to prompt this time, still caught up in seeing Julian's ring, still warm from Vera's body heat, in his hand. Julian hadn't responded to Alex's messages. He'd assumed it was because of Alex's past, but now he was left to wonder if Julian had wanted to protect him by keeping away from him. Keeping whatever he'd gotten caught up in that had killed him away from Alex. Vera adds, "I was confused why he'd told me that, given me his ring as I got into the EMU suit but. . .Ivan told me that he was just the messenger. He'd worked for so many sides not asking questions. Earth, Solarium, Mars. They were all the same to him. So he decided that the children of prometheus had a point and got in contact with them. Relaid information. Ivan-he was going to tell me more."

But he'd died.

Vera looks at him meaningfully, "but he did manage to give me the coordinates that he was given by his CoP contact. In case he ever needed a safe house or extraction."

"He never-," Alex begins to ask, not taking his eyes off the ring. In his hand was proof that Julian had been killed.

"He never met his contact," Vera confirms. "But they're on Callisto. Some hippie hub." She rolls her eyes and what a martian thing to do. Look down on every colony not hell bent on terraforming.

Alex turns his gaze on her once more, seeing her in a different light for the first time. Trying to spot what made her a martian. As if he could spot in vitro augmentation just by looking her over.

But all he saw was a petite woman with a hollowness under her eyes. Her full lips pressed into a grim line. Hair slowly drying into waves, catching the light like oil on water. Despite Alex's new information about Vera, he was no less drawn to her.

There was no sadistic edge that spoke of oprichnik operatives who the Martian People's council refused to acknowledge existed despite all the mounting evidence about their methods.

His gut was telling him that Vera was telling the truth.

"One thing though," Alex points out, taking off his own ring for the first time since he'd first received command rank, a command long since stripped from him, and sliding Julian's ring on his finger in its place as he stands up. His mind was made up. He was going to help Vera uncover this conspiracy. Clear Julian and Vera's name. And maybe, just maybe, reclaim some respect on his name.

"What?"

"You said earth and mars sent you," he says gently, having encountered enough martians to know how loyal to their colony they were otherwise known as having bought into the propaganda, "but Division killed your crew.. ."

"Yes," Vera nods, tapping her foot on the floor.

"Then wouldn't both earth and mars have sent the missile that killed your crew? Or wouldn't have mars already used this as an excuse to advance their agenda?"

"No," she supplies, refusing to even contemplate the idea that Mars would've been complicit in such an act. "The Guoanbu wouldn't have killed their own. We're-they're not like that."

“Vera," he sighs, "there's nastiness under every corner, no matter how nice everything is on top you know."

She shakes her head again, averting her gaze, There wasn't much to look at on the walls, but she was making due.

"Let's just find ya another IDB and get to Callisto-"

There's a knock at the door.

Alex and Vera trade wide eyed looks, having taken the plunge off the same cliff with nothing but a string of brand new fucking trust between them. A dead man's word to go on.

Fucking hell.

Matt and Nick flank each side of the room's door. Nick's stone face offsets the mixture of parental concern Matt's features contain, sighing at Alex's appearance, sticking his head out the door. Vera hiding next to the door, alert to every word.

He has to wonder how good her hearing is. Martian's always messed with embryos biology, designing the next generation to be fitter. Could she hear down the hall? What the people in the next room were saying?

Matt steps forward, "jesus fuck mate," he shakes his head. "Can't respond to a bloody com now Alex."

"I told you I got a job," he protests, trying to remember if that was true. His friends had fallen to the bottom of his priorities quickly. Alex had a habit of self absorption with whatever obsession came his way. It had made him a terrific ensign, practicing the same maneuver for hours until he could do it with his eyes closed.

"No," Nick corrects, not bothering to move the curls out of his face, watching him carefully, "you didn't."

Alex sighs, but doesn't budge. They mustn't see Vera. Soon her face will be plastered all over the net as a manhunt begins. Her IDB must already be flagged for travel.

He had to make his rightfully concerned friends go away and quickly.

"Al," Matt levels with him, "I asked you to be here because you might as well be my brother. I knew when I did that it would mean coming back to the moon. That it would bring up a load of shit for you."

"We're worried about you mate," Nick explains. "You're still here. You won't talk to any of us."

" 'm fine," Alex mumbles, unable to hold eye contact with either of his friends. He looks at his shoes as he realizes how unfair he's been to them both in the last two days.

This trip was supposed to be about Matt.

He shouldn't be here worried that Alex finally went off the rails.

"Alex," Matt utters, placing his hand on the door frame, leaning in close to Alex. "You know you can talk to me. I don't care what you did or why."

"Really," Alex tries, because as much as he'd like to have this long overdue discussion, finally get to explain why--no one had ever asked him why, they'd just condemned his actions as w r o n g--he has to get Vera off the moon. "I'm fine. Just been in me head."

"That's what I'm worried about," Matt responds, eyes locked onto his, as if Alex could disappear at any moment. "You've always been in your head too much Al. And it didn't matter when I knew you were looking after yourself. Had me and the lads with you but-Alex you looked like utter shit back in Vesta last time I saw you, hopped up on who knows what."

Alex swears internally. They really knew when to pick the worst moments. He was actually doing good. "I know. . .," he tries to find the words that don't require him to have an emotional breakdown in Tranquility Hotel, aware Vera's listening in, "it's been rough. Some days worse than others but Matthew," he whines, "I really am good."

"For how long though," Nick counters, crossing his arms against his chest. It was a good point but Alex really hadn't been in the dark lonely place in months. Maybe closer to a year now. Progress.

Something about waking up missing shoes and jammed into the seediest by corners of an asteroid had lit a fire under his arse about moving on.

He hadn't even hit the agents earlier. They would've deserved it but who gives a shit. Alex will always be a mutineer but at least his hands were clean. His conscience is a white pearl like a meditating bodhisattva.

"Can we just go inside and talk man," Matt pleads, his shoulder resting against the door, clearly seconds away from shoving his way in.

Guilt wells up in his mouth. Despite having every reason to say no, Alex wants to say yes, the word making its way to the tip of his tongue at Matt's insistence.

It was Matt and he was Alex and he couldn't just deny him like this after everything.

Terrans were only allowed one child.

The law didn't keep Matt from being his brother any less.

"I can't," Alex sighs. "I just-you've given me a lot to think about."

Matt rolls his eyes, hurt flashing through his features as he takes a step back, "bullshit."

"Just open up the damn door Alexander," Nick tries, clearly having had it with trying to do things the nice way, realizing Alex wasn't going to budge on his own. "We're ya friends."

"It's been six years Alex," Matt added. "I thought you'd want to talk by now."

Alex shakes his head, "it's not always a straight line."

"Let's have this conversation inside," Nick insists, "who knows when you'll be around next Al. And now Matt has a command. . ."

Matt shoves his way in.

Alex had forgotten how hot headed he could be. The foil to his cool and calm temperament: translating Alex's lit to others. Not that Alex had much trouble verbalizing, necessity being the mother invention. He no longer took hours to get a sentence out of his mouth.

"Matt!"

"Don't Matt me Al," Matt retorts spying Vera in seconds, who's already fallen into a defensive stance.

Matt brings a hand to his face, pinching his nose bridge, before heavily sighing, "You've got to be kidding me Al. You're hiding a murderer now."

"She's no-"

"I didn't kill anyone," she tries, folding into herself, trying to appear smaller and innocent than she actually is. Vera tries to play at being Tisiphone once more. "It's all a misunderstanding!"

"Then turn yourself in," Nick challenges, closing the door behind him.

"Al," Matt says, placing his hands on Alex's shoulders, "what the hell are you thinking mate! They're going to lock you up for this and not even-"

"Matt," he interrupts, "trust me. I'd love to have a nice long chat but things have gotten. . .complicated and-it's safer if ya don't know. Just. . .trust me."

Matt stares back at him, mouth drawn. An entire childhood together on earth, their toes digging into the soil, tracking mud all over the floors. Later a shared adolescence, their accents charming the girls and boys at school, Matt doing all the talking and never leaving a painfully shy Alex behind.

He nods. "You better come back because we're having this talk even if I have to go visit you in prison."

"There are things far worse than prison," Vera unhelpfully points out, tugging on her jacket over her hoodie, the collar lined with actual animal fur. Given the martian rationing system, it was an untold luxury for Vera to own a leather jacket with fur at all. "I'd even take death over enhanced interrogation."

She pretends to tremble with fear, "anything but gravity."

Alex snorts in spite of the dark subject matter. "Not helping."

Ignoring the other two men in the room, Vera hands Alex one of the spare IDB's he'd seen in her bag earlier. Had it really been only hours ago? "Here's your IDB now. Alexander Collins. Born on Pallas. Married to Morgana Collins," she points at herself, already dispatching the old IDB off her wrist and throwing it in her bag. "Came to the moon to get married. Off to Callisto to make a living," she explains calmly.

"Short and sweet," Alex notes, looking down at his own wrist, the IDB a second skin. He hadn't taken it off since he'd left earth. Many colonies like Callisto chose to implant the ID chip.

It was the key to getting on any ship. His passport and last link to earth. His last hope at ever stepping foot on the big blue planet again, however slim.

Visas for foreigners pretty much nonexistent.

Nick hands him a swiss army laser, "I implanted mine." It's news to Alex who hadn't even noticed, Nick having always been a bit chilly, wearing long sleeves year round. " 's nice actually."

Matt dramatically covers his eyes.

Alex slices through the metal, leaving a band of unblemished creamy skin.

It doesn't last long, as Vera easily replaces it.

"You should keep it," she tells him, patting his arm like a parent half heartedly consoling their child after a pet fish dies. "We are planning on fixing things."

"Yeah," Alex answers, running his fingers over the band. He already felt less confident without it.

[ichoriism]

@nouvelis​ inspired: ♡ kyungil ( both verses of u want! )

verse: earth 1 - clowns 

Who is the most affectionate? I believe both are but Kyungsoo takes the initiative more often and Taeil reacts into it without thinking about it. So it’s like those cases of a couple that acts like a couple of more than friends but are actually just friends but also have fast food combos named on their honor and yeah, clowns!

Who initiates the handholding? Kyungsoo initiates the hugs and Taeil does the handholding. When they are outside and there’s something that catches Taeil’s attention, his fingers thread naturally into Kyungsoo's and he drags them to the object of his attention and it stays that way the rest of the time. Even when they are watching movies, Taeil initiates the handholding if they aren’t already hugging/cuddling.

Who worries more for the other? Taeil does because he can sense there are odd silences coming from Kyungsoo's side and those bruises and cuts just add more worry to his brain :c

Who is more likely to ask for help? I think both have a hard time communicating they need help for important things to not trouble/worry each other :( Taeil may be a bit more open in this if it’s something not that troublesome like asking Kyungsoo to check his rehearsals and choreos and voice his opinion but outside from that? not so much ;A; 

Who is the one always losing the keys? Taeil— that child has not lost his head because it is attached to his neck OTL

Who leaves little love notes for the other? I can see Kyungsoo doing these, specially when Taeil had important presentations. He probably got Taeil’s fav drink (apple juice) often in those days and put a cute message on it before handing it over and Taeil smiled like an idiot every time and felt his heart race and and and— clowns!

Who can’t sleep unless the other is there? Both do. The moment one awakes before the other, the other wakes up soon enough if the warmth is gone. I guess these are also dysfunctional kittens?

Who is more likely to propose to the other? Taeil. He knows Kyungsoo sometimes overthinks things and doesn’t voice out all he wants because he doesn’t deserve it so yeah, he will do something real romantic and have a speech and all (that he will forget) and may probably almost lose the ring— but he will do all that looking at Kyungsoo in the eye and saying he loves him and cannot wait to build a life together as husbands 

Who introduced the other to their family first? Both are orphans and after they meet again, Taeil brings him over for dinner and it becomes a common occurrence that they spend a lot of time over Taeil’s whenever they have time and don’t feel like going outside (even when Kyungsoo had bfs). Taeil probably doesn’t know much about Kyungsoo’s mother but may have an idea that things are not very sweet in Kyungsoo’s side of the road :c

Who is more likely to play with the other’s hair? Both do! Honestly, they are so enamored with the smallest detail of each other that it should be glaringly obvious they are made for each other yet we are in this freaking circus 🤡

Who makes sure the other has meals/stays hydrated? Kyungsoo does. He knows Taeil is a hazard in the kitchen and doesn’t eat as well as he should if he doesn’t take him out to grab his meals when the rest of his brothers are busy OTL in reality, Taeil is not that useless in the kitchen if he focuses but he haaaates eating alone so he grabs quick things when no one will have a meal with him at home :c

Who is more likely to stand up to anyone for the other? Both do but Kyungsoo tends to react quicker. Taeil is more clueless about these situations but if the situation calls for it, he will stand in front of Kyungsoo to protect him <3

Who is the most likely to prepare a surprise for the other? Taeil! Kyungsoo likes to surprise him too but Taeil can plan the craziest things specially when Kyungsoo seems moody just so he can help him take his mind off things. Roller coasters, horror houses, trips to the beach, hiking in the forest at night, fresh good from his bro’s bakery, you name it. At this time, Kyungsoo will have passed through a myriad of crazy options Taeil thinks are fun—

Who makes the other pinky promise not to do certain things? I think Kyungsoo may do this, he’s the sweeter one in this equation c:

Who puts a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch? Taeil does! Moves enough to cover Kyungsoo in blankets and spoon him properly, after that, he’s also gone uwu

—

verse: earth 2 - intense clowns

Who is the most affectionate? Taeil. Remove “childhood friendship” from the equation and my kid has no qualms about throwing himself onto his favorite vampire.  

Who initiates the handholding? I think Kyungsoo would be the first one here. It is something simple, really, but probably likes the look in Taeil’s face when it happens because they are so intense, soft gestures like this are such a change of pace he does not know what to do with it or how to react xD

Who worries more for the other? Kyungsoo does. I’m sorry, Taeil is a mess in every universe he wakes up at—

Who is more likely to ask for help? Taeil probably, not because he cannot do things, but because he likes having Kyungsoo show he cares and is there for Taeil. 

Who is the one always losing the keys? Taeil— in every universe, never trust your keys to this child.

Who leaves little love notes for the other? Taeil grabs this one! He has a small post it pad in his jacket with messages already written and sticks them to Kyungsoo's back before the vampire leaves and says ‘You can’t read it until you get home!’ and runs off xD 

Who can’t sleep unless the other is there? Kyungsoo doesn’t sleep but Taeil is still human so, he doesn’t like waking up alone on bed thus why he wakes up / tosses around if Kyungsoo isn’t there. I’m sorry Kyungsoo, you better develop a pastime while this clingy koala sleeps hugging you or turn him already so he can give you back time alone at night xD

Who is more likely to propose to the other? Taeil, more than a proposal it’s like Taeil grabbing Kyungsoo’s lapels of his jacket until they are eye-to-eye level, saying you took me you cannot untake me, I’m in this for the rest of my life and beyond if you ever decide I’m serious and I want this with you for eternity —

Who introduced the other to their family first? I’ve decided in the vampire verse, Taeil has no one :’) so they are on equal standing

Who is more likely to play with the other’s hair? Taeil. He likes all of Kyungsoo but these parts that remind him the human side of himself are those soft spots he’s fallen for even more. He thinks it’s like having found a treasure map and every stop holds a secret he tucks in and relishes in with all his might.

Who makes sure the other has meals/stays hydrated? Taeil, because Kyungsoo needs to feed and Taeil is happy to be of service ^^:

Who is more likely to stand up to anyone for the other? Taeil does it quicker. Without his brothers, he had to toughen up earlier and stronger so he can react pretty quickly to this kind of thing and forget he’s not that strong throwing punches.

Who is the most likely to prepare a surprise for the other? I think Kyungsoo would have more experience and ideas of how to surprise Taeil :3

Who makes the other pinky promise not to do certain things? Taeil! You bet he’s gonna make Kyungsoo promise him he won’t leave him even if he turns gray.

Who puts a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch? Kyungsoo, because his koala gets cold easily :’)

[thealphabetmurders]

Irises

Pairing: Prinxiety

Word Count: 2522

Summary: Virgil knows exactly 3 things: 1. He is stressed about finals more than a normal person would 2. Impressionists are the worst 3. The barista at this new coffee shop has the prettiest eyes

Triggers: anxiety, insomnia, implied/referenced drug-use, lack of self care

Authors Note: I wanted to challenge myself and write a fic with a pairing that I don’t normally do. I am definitely more privy to Logince, Analogical, and Moxiety, but I gotta love Prinxiety, how could you not?  

(Read on AO3)

Virgil tugged off his earbuds as he walked into Monet’s, an unfamiliar coffee house and a new experience for Virgil. Virgil hated new experiences. The smell of vanilla filled his senses as he walked in a dream-like state to the counter (standing a little bit away to let the employees know he wasn’t ready), rubbing his eyes from exhaustion, getting his fix here because he did not have the energy to go out and buy more grounds. He knew that it was most likely extremely unhealthy for him to have only consumed Takis, coffee, and Adderall the past couple days, but it was finals week, which meant it was crunch time. 

Virgil tells people he is a bit more anxious than most people, and by a bit, he means a fuckton. So, of course, finals week has him questioning everything in his life, from his study methods to his career path. Virgil is a smart guy, so he doesn’t actually have anything to worry about, as long as he studies, right? Wrong. As a fine arts major, not all of his classes are just knowing that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, you have to apply the skills you learned into a creative piece, and while Virgil is a talented artist, he was always second guessing everything he created. Which is why, in the 11th hour, Virgil decided he hated the medium he was working in, completely scrapped it, and had 48 hours to create 3 completely new “transformative” pieces. Sleep was not an option until it had to be. Which, it seemed it had been, when he fell asleep on the bus after class, missing his apartment by 11 stops. Coffee seemed necessary at this point. 

Pulling his hoodie off his head, smoothing out his hair, he looked at the pretty standard local coffee shop menu with some lunch items as well, and just looking at those made his stomach grumble. 

“Suppose you cannot create on an empty stomach.” Virgil thought. “And while I’m here…”

 As he was reading, he noticed each combo had a quirky name relating to Monet’s works. Berry spring salad with bagel was Luncheon on the Grass, sesame soba was The Japanese Footbridge….

“Give me a break…” Virgil muttered, before finally deciding on what to get. The shop was completely empty, so Virgil didn’t feel too bad about taking his time, though he did feel a bit nervous looking like a mess in front of the handsome barista. 

His olive colored skin tone with black wavy hair made Virgil feel a bit woozy, but he became dazed when he looked into his beautiful emerald eyes, almost forgetting why he was there, until he asked, “What can I do for ya, man?” 

“Uh, yea, can I get the tomato soup and grilled cheese with a medium espresso frappuccino,” He looked around the empty store, “For here, I guess,”

The barista turned around and looked at the two other employees behind him, one on their phone and one inspecting their nails absentmindedly, “Does anyone want to make a frap?” 

They both looked up and looked at each other before turning back to the one taking Virgil’s order. The one with a large scar on the left side of his face put his thumb down while the other one who looked very similar to his cashier blew a raspberry, shaking his head. The handsome cashier turned back to Virgil, and shrugged, “Sorry, gonna have to pick something else, no one want to make it,” 

Virgil sighed, rubbing his eyes, “Okay, whatever, is an iced flat white with some espresso okay?”

The three looked at each other then back at Virgil, before the cashier said, “Dude… It was a joke,” 

“Yea man,” The barista with a scar said, “We can’t just say no to what you order,” 

“What kind of business would that be?” The third one piped up. 

“Are you okay?” The barista, Virgil looked at his nametag, Roman, asked. 

Virgil merely sighed, “I’m kind of going through it,” 

Virgil pulled out his card, but Roman put his hand up. “On the house,” Normally Virgil would protest, despite the cheesy food names it was still a local business,  but being so stressed and depressed he honestly could bring himself to care. He choked out a thanks and sat down by a window, leaning his temple against the it, cool condensation comforting and making him a bit more awake. 

His food and his coffee eventually arrived, Virgil thanked Roman, who then proceeded to sit down across from him, elbows on the table and hands folded. 

“Can I help you?” Virgil asked, probably being harsher than intended, it was just his natural speaking voice. 

“Probably not, I wanna see if I can help you,” Roman shrugged. 

Virgil frowned, “Help me?” 

“I have been told I am good company and good at advice, and you, Brad Pitt-iful, seems like you are falling apart at the seams,” 

Virgil chuckled dryly, “Trust me, I hardly think you are qualified to handle hearing about all my problems,” 

Roman sat up straighter, looking into Virgil’s brown eyes against his gorgeous green, “I work as a barista by day with a bunch of dysfunctional idiots and I am a bartender at night, there is nothing I haven’t seen before, I am probably more qualified than some therapists”  He crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrow, “Try me,” 

Virgil, intrigued, took the bait, and spilled. He talked about his anxiety, the insomnia, the fear of failure, the days where he debates dropping out, his nerves going into overdrive everytime he thinks about what he is going to, how he abandoned his final project, how he has to start on a new one- essentially everything that has been swirling in Virgil’s mind the past semester. 

“Hmm, okay, so you are pulling all nighters to finish all your work, and you only had one piece to do before you were completely finished with your final, and you then decided it looked all wrong and scrapped it?” Roman recapped and Virgil nodded, “Might I give you a suggestion?” 

“You can try,” 

“When you get home, go to sleep. Sleep for at least 9 hours, in a row, look at your old project again, and see how you feel,” Roman shrugged, “Maybe with a clear head you will feel differently about your project, maybe even get some inspiration,” 

Virgil gripped the bridge of his nose, “Roman, I do not have the time to sleep for a full 9 hours, that is ridiculous, I have to do so many projects,” 

“You’ll have one less to start from square one in if you end up actually liking what you did,” 

“It is a nice thought, I appreciate it, but I probably won’t be able anyways, not after the coffee,” Virgil took another sip, as to prove his point, but Roman just smirked. 

“That’s actually just a frozen hot chocolate with coffee flavoring in it,” 

Virgil eyes flew open wide, “Really?” He stared at his drink for a bit before looking at Roman, “They taste exactly the same, I cannot believe I let you fool me like that,” 

“Janus, Remus, and I made an executive decision, you do not look good,” Roman frowned, concerned, most likely looking at his swallowed out skin and circle under his eyes. 

“Well-” Virgil half-chuckled, “Not a lot of people look good compared to you,” Virgil would later wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat because of his flippant flirting that he never engages in, but for now he doesn’t care. 

“Charmed.” Roman said, a fond smile present on his face, “I am sure you are a catch as well, when you don’t look like a skeleton” The door opened and a gaggle of people walked in, dressed in the local high school’s uniform. Roman sighed, “That’s my cue,” 

He stood up and frowned, quickly patting his front and back pockets before pulling out a sharpie. He grabbed Virgil's arm, the other one yelped, blushing slightly at the contact. “I would do the cliche ‘write my number on a napkin’, but now I know if you don’t text me it’s because you don’t want to, which is okay too.” He capped his pen, “Message me about what you decide to do, if you want. Would love to see your art,” And with a flourish of his hand, Roman walked away to the counter to take the many orders of the teenagers. 

Virgil looked down at the 9 numbers on his arm, swallowing thickly, feeling a bit sick, though it is not just from Roman’s number in bold, black ink. God, he was tired. 

His body was not attached to his brain as he walked to the bus station, got off, and walked up to his studio, unlocking the door and banging his head against the wall (not too hard, though, these walls are so thin they might as well be made of rice paper). Virgil looked at the numbers on his arm, remembering what Roman said. 

Virgil shrugged off his jacket and jeans,  throwing them on his ‘stuff’ chair and pulled on a pair of sweats, collapsing on his bed. He looked at his phone, the time reading 3:35pm. 

“9 hours from now… That’s midnight. Is he mental?” Virgil muttered to himself. He attempted to pull himself out of bed to get started to study for his history of art final, but his body would just not cooperate. How long has it been since he has had a proper sleep. 

If you have to think about it, it’s been too long… 

That tomato soup and grilled cheese combination was beginning to make him sleepy. Virgil groaned, face-palming. He went on his phone and set an alarm for 6:00pm. 

“Fine, a short nap,” He said to himself. He hit the lights and it took maybe two minutes before he was sleeping, dreaming of impression paintings and emerald eyes. 

***

this is Virgil. 

i didn’t end up sleeping for the 9 hours like you asked

i ended up sleeping for 13.

i hate you. 

And how do you feel, now?

……….…

much better actually. you were right. after my coma i looked back at my final and realised it was a lot better than I remembered. 

i even ended up finishing it. 

That is fantastic! I am soooo glad I could help. What did you end up doing?

Can you send me a picture? 

oh uh

idk if that is a good idea

i don’t want you to think i am weird

Virgil. 

I beta read my twin’s fanfiction. 

I am so desensitized, I do not think I am allowed to be weirded out. 

ok...

img.cm/1029483

Incoming call (Roman- Monet’s)....

****

Virgil yelped when he saw the incoming call. He doesn’t like phone calls at the best of times, but especially not now, not after he showed Roman his final piece. Stupid, stupid, STUPID! He should have just said no, people don’t press about that kind of thing. But Roman is clearly a liar because he said he wouldn’t be weirded out and he is, and Virgil just met this guy and he already messed everything up, why does he have to be such a fucking weirdo all the time, goddamnit, everything is falling apart, Virgil may have gotten sleep but he can’t fix himself. He groaned and snatched up the phone on the last ring, attempting to put on his best, most positive voice. 

“Hey, Roman, wha-what’s up… Bro?” 

“Hello!” Roman answered the phone, not sounding angry or upset, which calmed Virgil a bit, “I apologize, I should have prefaced that I loved the painting. I understand why you might have been worried, but it is absolutely wonderful.” 

“Really?” Virgil let out a breath, “I was really worried that-” 

“Are you kidding?” Roman almost shouted through the phone, Virgil having to pull it away from his ear, “A profile of just my eyes surrounded by roses and irises, in the style of the impressionists, even though I know you hate that style,”

“I don’t hate it,” Virgil muttered. 

“You ranted about Renoir, Degas, and Monet for longer than anyone I have ever met, and one of my closest friends is a curator at the art museum,” 

Virgil sighed, “Yea, you’re right, they suck. Sorry about that…” 

Roman laughed, “Ha, are you joking? That was the highlight of my day. But all that aside, how could you even fathom me not liking the piece? 

“I mean,” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, “I just met you yesterday, it’s not exactly something people do for someone when they do not even know their last name.” 

“My last name is Perez, my middle name is Thomas, my twin brother is Remus who you met yesterday, I am left handed, my favorite food color is red, and I love attention, it’s why I have done theater for 20 years. Does that help?” 

Virgil grumbled, “I guess it does,” 

Roman laughed, “I love it, Virgil, trust me, it is now my phone background,” 

Virgil’s heart swelled, “Really?” 

“Really. Honestly after us talking for like, 45 minutes yesterday, I would have been more offended if I wasn’t your muse, I mean, what about mean isn’t inspirational?” Both Roman and Virgil laughed at that, “But I could have told you all this over text, I called because I don’t like texting to ask pretty boys out on dates,” 

Virgil’s heart leapt into his throat, he felt as though someone dropped a ton of bricks on his chest. How was he supposed to respond to that? Roman first impression of him was a literal dead man walking and he still wants to go out with him?

“A date?” Virgil responded, still shocked. 

“Unless the pride pin on your jacket was just as an ally, and you just spent hours painting my eyes in a straight way, I would like to, if you want,” Roman said simply. Before Virgil could respond, Roman started speaking again, “And don’t say no just because I saw you at your rock bottom, I can see where this is going,” 

Virgil smacked his lips together, “You got me,”

“What do you say,” 

Virgil smiled, genuinely, for the first time in a while, “Let’s do it,” 

Virgil was only speechless for a full minute when Roman laid out an entire romantic picnic, scheduling it perfectly to watch a matinee Shakespeare in the Park production of Much Ado About Nothing, both of them happily munching on the brownies and sandwiches Roman had made that morning. Virgil only complained for 3 minutes when Roman wanted to take him to the art museum, the blushing lasted for 4 times that long when Roman confessed it was because he wanted to hear Virgil about the paintings, his voice being one of the most pleasant he has heard. When Roman grabbed Virgil by the waist, pulling him in for a kiss, Virgil responded with equal passion and emotion that Roman was, not even noticing they were in front of Monet’s Irises. 

[alexisthedevilsfox]

Just a friend

Hi ^-^ One day, while I was enjoying a peaceful life, I heard a song that gave me an idea for a scene that I had to write immediately. 

Well... then I had that one scene but that was it.

But when @lace-maze and I talked about it, we both had some ideas, so now I have the whole story. 

Fandom: Jacksepticeye

Pairing: Schneeplebro (Chase and Henrik)

Summary:  Just a friend. That's what Chase is for Henrik, but... he wants to be more... so much more.

Warning: There is angst but don't worry, it has a happy ending. In fact, I would describe it with a sentence from Harry Potter: You're gonna suffer, but you're gonna be happy about it.

Oh also... Big thank you to Lace for being my beta and my partner in crime xD

Just a friend

Chase was a happy person. He really was. After he stopped drinking, found a therapist, and settled things with Stacy, his life began to feel more like... well, life. He could see all the mistakes he had made, but he learned to face them and solve his problems. Or at least he tried to solve them if he could. 

The green haired man also learned that he could ask his friends for help. There was always someone who was willing to help him, most of the time Henrik. The doctor was a big help and Chase had no idea what he would do without him.

The problem was that Henrik ... was the source of his sadness lately. 

They were friends for so long, that it took him two years after his divorce with Stacy to realize that he loved him as more than just a friend. But then he also realized that he probably didn't stand a chance with Henrik. Chase was a realist in this. Who would want such an emotional mess as he was? Especially Henrik, who was so damn smart, handsome and a doctor.

He was the dream of every mother who wanted to marry their daughter to a doctor. Well, actually… who wanted to marry their daughter in general.

Chase, on the other hand, was just a regular guy who liked to make stupid jokes and watch cartoons. He was nothing special, so he decided that even though he loved Henrik, he wouldn't tell him. Chase didn't want to ruin their friendship, and he was sure it would be enough for him to be Henrik's best friend.

Well... after a few months, he realized he was wrong.

Almost every time they were outside, for example for dinner or coffee, there was someone who came to them and told them that they made such a cute couple or asked them how long they had been together and he then had to listen to Henrik say quickly that they were just friends. It was as if Henrik was practicing the answer because he always told it almost the same way, without the slightest hesitation. 

At first it was fine, they even joked together that they would definitely be the perfect couple. That they would even surpass Marvin and Jackie. It was funny and he laughed at the idea of them being that picture perfect family with white picket fence and maybe a dog. 

But after a while, it stopped being funny. It started to hurt him every time he heard Henrik say, "Oh no, he's just my best friend." 

He realized that he actually wanted them to be that perfect family. It would be so easy.

His children loved Henrik, even jokingly calling him their second dad and Henrik's children called Chase "dadcle", the cutest combo of 'dad' and 'uncle' merged together. He loved them for it. It was so sweet to call him that and he would be happy to be their actual stepdad. He also knew that if he wanted it to become a reality, all he had to do was tell Henrik how he felt, but it was so fucking hard. Every time he had the words on his tongue, Henrik said the damn word starting with F, Chase just lost his courage or both options at once.

Unfortunately, this was not all. 

To make matters worse, Henrik started going out with a woman. According to what the doctor told him, her name was Grace and she was a nurse, working in the children's ward and Henrik spoke very nicely about her.

When Chase saw her for the first time, he almost cried. Her bright blue eyes looked at Henrik with love and she looked like a kind woman. 

That day he felt as if someone had ripped his heart out. Even Henrik noticed that something was really wrong and asked him what's going on. But Chase dismissed him, saying that he was just not feeling well and that he's going home. He didn't want to ruin it for Henrik, because he deserved to be happy, even if it was with someone else. Even so, it didn't change the fact that it hurt like hell. 

Because of Grace and also because of his own mental health, he began to distance himself from Henrik. He just couldn't handle being so close to him anymore. Especially when he knew that Henrik was already taken.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

One afternoon his phone rang, Henrik's name on the screen. For a moment he considered not picking it up, but he hadn't spoken to Henrik in a long time, so at the last moment he answered.

“Hi, Hen. What’s up?” he asked.

“Hello, Chase.” Henrik's slightly deeper voice came from the phone. “I've been thinking... we haven't seen each other in a long time, so what if I came to your apartment? If you have time, that is.” the doctor said.

“Uhm…” Chase had no idea what to say. He really wanted to see him but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea.

“I'll bring food. How about your favourite, Hawaiian pizza?” Henrik continued.

“But... you hate pineapple on pizza.” the green haired man mumbled.

“Yes, but I like you so I’m willing to eat that monstrosity with you.” a quiet laugh could be heard from the phone. Chase's heart skipped a beat.

“Awww… man, how did I deserve such a great sacrifice?” he asked.

“I've already said it, we haven't seen each other in a long time.” Henrik answered, and Chase was overwhelmed with guilt. It was his fault that they didn't see each other as often as before, because he couldn't deal with his own fucking feelings.

“Okay then, you can come.” the sad dad really wanted to see him again, and he wouldn't turn down the pizza either.

“Great. I'll go for the pizza and then to you. Want anything else? What if I brought donuts?” the enthusiasm in the doctor's voice was impossible to overhear, and Chase sighed.

“You missed me that much, huh?” how the hell does he have to forget how he feels about Henrik when the man does things like that?

“Yes, I did.” Henrik answered immediately, “but no more talking, bye for now and I'll see you in an hour.” he said and hung up. Chase stared at the phone for a moment, then set it down on the coffee table and looked around the living room. The room wasn't that messy, but it wasn't downright clean either, so he decided to clean up a bit. Thanks to that, he didn't even register how much time had passed and was interrupted only by the doorbell. Chase swallowed nervously and went to open the door.

Henrik looked as good as ever. Even in those worn out jeans and t-shirt, he looked like a treat.

“Hello, Chase.” the doctor smiled, a pizza box in his hands and on top of that a box from Krispy Kreme.

“Uhm… Hi. Come in.” Chase steps away from the door so Henrik can come inside. He was afraid it would be weird, but instead everything went back to normal.

They both settled in the living room and spent a good half hour arguing about what movie they should watch. When they finally decided which movie to play, they opened the pizza box and started to eat. They talked about their kids, their work and how they were doing. It was nice but then Henrik mentioned Grace.

“Uhm... how is she? How do you enjoy being in a relationship again?” Chase asked, though he didn't actually want to know.

“Oh we… we’re not together anymore.” Henrik replied. the green haired man blinked in confusion. He didn't expect Henrik to tell him they broke up.

“W… why?” he needed to know.

“Well, we realized that it doesn't work, we don't feel what we should have as a couple. Grace is more of a good friend than a girlfriend.” he shrugged. 

It seemed to Chase that Henrik didn't really mind, but he still said, “I'm sorry it turned out that way.” because what else was he supposed to say? Chase wasn't sorry at all, but that would be really rude to say, “Can I… help you somehow? Do you wanna… Get well soon card?” he joked, and Henrik rewarded him with a snort.

“No, you're helping me now. By the way, thank you for that.” the doctor smiled, “It would be easier if I could find someone as funny and kind as you.” he added, and Chase suddenly lost his words.

“I uhm… Thanks?” He replied stiffly. ‘Say it you loser. Say… Date me then.’ Chase tried to convince himself to say it out loud.

“I mean it. Who wouldn't want to date you?” Chase heard what Henrik was saying, but he still couldn't bring himself to say the words he wanted, his throat tightening with anxiety and Henrik continued, “You’re a great guy, Chase and I’m really happy that you’re my best friend.”

After these words, something snapped in Chase. The anxiety disappeared and was replaced by anger. There was that fucking word again.

Best friend.

Only a best friend.

“Yeah... best friend. That’s what I am.” he said bitterly. Henrik's blue-gray eyes looked at him with surprise.

“Did I say something wrong?” the doctor asked.

“Nothing! You didn't say anything wrong.” the green haired man snapped. He desperately needed to move, he couldn't just sit there, so he got up from the couch and started pacing back and forth through the living room. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Henrik got up too.

“Clearly, I had to say something because you're angry now. What's wrong?” there was confusion and guilt in the doctor's eyes, and Chase felt terrible, which for some reason fueled his anger even more.

“Nothing is fucking wrong, okay!?” Chase shouted, hands clenched into a fist, “Just… just go home Henrik. I… I can’t talk with you right now.” he tried to say calmly, body still shaking with anger.

“Chase, we haven't talked in a long time and now that something is obviously wrong and it looks like my fault, you don't even want to talk to me? Seriously, what’s wrong? Please, we’re friends. We can figure it out.” Henrik tried to speak softly and calmly, hoping Chase would calm down.

“Friends, huh?! Well, there’s some fucking news for you. I don’t wanna be your friend anymore!” the words fell out of his mouth too easily. Powered by anger and desperation, followed by a complete shock of what he said. Blue-gray eyes stared at him in stunned disbelief. Uncomfortable silence spread between them and the only thing Chase could hear was his own heart pounding in his ears.

“Well then… if that's what you want, then so be it” the doctor managed in a trembling voice. Chase could hear the pain in his voice but he was so shocked by his own words that his brain couldn't form a response, much less get it out of his mouth.

“Goodbye, Chase.” Henrik said as he turned to leave the room.

That finally forced Chase to act. He grabbed Henrik's hand and squeezed it tightly. “Please, wait! Don’t go,” the green haired man had no idea what he was going to do.

“What? What more do you want from me?!” Henrik looked at him and freed his hand from his grip.

“I wanna… I didn’t… I didn't mean it that way.” Chase mumbled.

“How did you mean it then?” Blue-gray eyes watched him with intensity and Chase gulped.

“I… I can’t tell you.” He tried.

“Either tell me or I'm leaving and I guarantee you we won't see each other for a long time!” The doctor said, anger slowly overtaking him. Chase looked at him desperately, his eyes filled with tears. The silence around them was almost unbearable, bright blue eyes staring into the blue-gray ones. Then Henrik shook his head and turned again to leave.

“I love you!” Chase blurted out immediately, afraid Henrik would leave, “I love you so much it hurts and I… I can’t take it anymore. I think about you almost every single day and I know I’m just a pathetic loser, but that doesn't change the fact that all I want is to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night.” Chase completed his monologue with ragged breath, keeping his gaze on the floor while tears ran down his face. 

Silence filled the room again, but Chase couldn't stand it for long, so he started talking again.

“I’m s-sorry, Henrik. I… I know I ruined e-everything but I can’t get rid of it. I tried but… I just love you so much,” he sobbed “and I'm probably not… not your best friend a-anymore and it’s my… my fault,” finally he raised his head and looked at Henrik. The doctor looked shocked and still didn't say a word.

“Please Hen, say something... Anything. Please.” he looked at him desperately, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

“Say it again.” Henrik suddenly spoke and moved closer to him.

“Wha...what?” came the shaky question.

“Say you love me.” Henrik reached out and wiped away his tears with his thumb. A shiver passed through Chase's body.

“I… I love you.” he said it much more quietly now, voice trembling. Bright blue eyes watched a small smile appear on Henrik's face.

“I love you too.” Henrik replied softly.

“You… you do?” the disbelief in his voice could be clearly heard.

“Yes.” a simple answer followed by Henrikd’s hands, which took his face, pulled him as close as possible and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Chase squeaked in surprise but as soon as Henrik began to pull away, he grabbed his shirt and pulled him back for another kiss.

“Please, tell me this is not a dream.” the anxious man begged between their shared breath. Neither of them seemed to want to stop any time soon.

“No, not a dream.” Henrik assured him as one of his hands moved to the man’s waist and the other to his hair, deepening the kisses. This was something they had both dreamed of for so long. It was almost surreal, but all the more beautiful. 

Eventually they broke apart, both trying to catch their breath.

“You really love me?” Chase asked, still unsure.

“Yes, I really love you and for quite some time actually.” he adjusted his glasses, which, thanks to their kissing, ended up crooked, “I was just too scared to ruin our friendship so I never said anything.” he added.

“Well, that would be both of us then.” the anxious man admitted and Henrik stifled a laugh.

“Good god, we’re idiots.” he sighed, and this time it was Chase who laughed.

“You know… at least we can be idiots together.” Chase said with hope.

“Oh, definitely. You won't get rid of me anymore, Mr. Brody.” he said, cupping Chase’s face and pecking a light kiss on the man’s lips.

Chase laughed into the kiss, “I didn't even plan to do that, Mr. Schneeplestein.”

“Good.” was his only answer, which they drowned in another of many kisses.

[artificialqueens]

losing all my cool (branjie, oneshot) - holtzmanns

Here's a oneshot full of headassery to tide you all over until the next multichap. Thank you all SO much for all the support that you send my way both on AO3 and here about my fics. It makes me so happy and really motivates me to keep writing more. So, this exists because of you, in a way. 

 Writ is the bestest beta and friend and cheerleader in the world and I love them. Also the title of this fic is from Cool by Dua Lipa. 

 NOTE: The mug bit at the end - you'll know when you reach it - is inspired by a scene in a ghostbusters fanfic that I read years ago. So. Just wanted to make it clear that I can't take credit for that idea. That being said, enjoy!

Brooke Lynn Hytes is a lesbian. A premium cut, 100% Canadian beef hunk of lesbian, and everyone knows it.

Brooke wouldn’t necessarily say that it’s a big factor of her personality, per se. She just makes sure that it’s abundantly clear for any potential ladies around her to catch on. Plus, she fucking rocks a good beanie, oversized shirt, jeans, and docs combo and really, who wouldn’t know it from looking at her? Having a flashing neon sign above her head reading ‘GAY’ would probably be a little bit more subtle.

Despite the blatant display of her sexual orientation, it’s been awhile since Brooke has dated anyone seriously - a year and a half, to be exact. The time since has been a lament of Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge, swiping right and left but not really ever clicking with anyone. Going out to the village but not really seeing anyone past a second date, because none of them really feel right.

Who would have thought that the dating scene in the city would have such slim pickings after awhile? Brooke feels like she’s wading through the same bunch of faces that she’s already seen before, way too many girls that have dated her exes or are her exes and really, she’s tired of it.

It’s a hard dilemma to explain to her friends, too, all of them either in long term relationships and happy or straight and having a way easier time finding guys for themselves. They don’t get the lesbian dating struggle.

“These apps are so dry. I’m going to be seventy years old and attending aquafit classes before someone pops up who’s going to actually catch my interest.” Brooke doesn’t mean for her words to come out in a muffled groan, but it’s hard for them not to when her face is buried in her hands.

“Aw, don’t be like that, B.” A’keria’s sympathetic hand reaches out to pat her shoulder, and it’s a little comforting, but not that much, not when A’keria’s other hand is busy texting her man. “You’re a catch.”

“I know I am. Problem is, I can’t find anyone else who is too.” Brooke shoves a forkful of pad thai in her mouth as she shrugs.

They really did all luck out, working in the same plaza. Brooke loves being able to catch up with the friends she’s made over lunch, Nina coming over from her bakery and Monique and Monet from their boutique and A’keria, Silky, and Vanessa from their salon. Having food options never hurts, either.

Brooke hears a snort as she takes a sip of her water, and looks up to see Vanessa rolling her eyes across from her, shaking her head.

“What?”

“You are so full of yourself, miss thing.”

Brooke shrugs, sprinkling more peanuts over her food. “I know my worth. A little bit of self confidence never hurts anyone.”

“Apparently, it hurts your dating life.” Vanessa grins, raising an eyebrow, and Brooke can’t help but pout.

“Hey! You don’t get the struggle. It’s harder when you date girls.”

It’s true. Straight people have it better. Straight people can pick each other up off the street, in the line for Starbucks. Straight people never have to wonder about if someone they’re into is also like them, if they’re even remotely interested. Straight people never have to look for smoke signals from potential people to date as clues. So Brooke’s not saying that Vanessa hasn’t been through it like she has when it comes to dating, but she’s also not not saying it.

Besides, Vanessa’s taking a break from dating, anyway. At least, that’s what she’d told their group after she’d broken up with her last boyfriend a few months ago. That she needs to go back and find herself or something.

Vanessa, though, seems unperturbed as she clacks her acrylic nails on the table. “Is it, now? Tell me, Brooke. Tell me about your struggle being a lady Casanova.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.” Brooke sniffs, leaning back in her chair.

It’s fine, really. She’ll find a girl eventually.

Maybe before she’s seventy.

If Brooke is the world’s most obvious lesbian, Vanessa is the world’s most incognito bisexual.

To most people, at least. Sure, Silky and A’keria know that Vanessa had dated some girls back in college, that her Tinder is set to both guys and girls. But everyone else?

Vanessa hasn’t seen the point of revealing it yet. What’s the rush, if she’s not dating a girl anyway?

Nor is she dating a guy right now either, but that’s beside the point.

Vanessa gets how she’s perceived. Face always beat, hair always styled, an aesthetic that’s femme as hell. Long ass nails, because why wouldn’t she get acrylics if she’s not getting coochie anytime soon? She looks good, but she also understands why she has had to be the one to hit on girls in the past, rather than the other way around. Because they always think that she’s a heterosexual.

And here Brooke is, doing the same thing. Not that Vanessa is interested in her - she needs a little bit more time with herself before dating again, especially after the drama of her last boyfriend. All she needs in bed is her rabbit toy, and it gives more pleasure than she’s gotten from her last two partners put together.

But she knows how Brooke sees her - straight, because Brooke’s playing into her own stereotypes about how girls interested in other girls look, how they act. Brooke would be the last person to guess that Vanessa’s bisexual, that she enjoys going down on a girl just as much as she does. Brooke, sweet lumberjack Brooke in her ripped jeans and her plaid as if she’s about to go chop a tree down with her nonexistent biceps. Classic lesbian, practically begging to be messed with.

And Vanessa has an idea. It comes to her as she’s walking back to the salon with Silky and A’keria after their lunch break, their friend group dispersing towards their respective businesses around the plaza. Vanessa finds it hilarious that Brooke’s a ballet teacher, going over releves and arabesques while looking like she can’t lift her own leg over her own head in those jeans. Though Vanessa knows she can, from one too many drunk nights out when Brooke’s old ballet dancer persona shines through as they stumble from the bars.

“You’re gonna what now?” Silky’s brows are furrowed, her eyes slightly squinting - partly from the sun, partly because she doesn’t seem to be following Vanessa’s train of thought.

Vanessa pats her arm as they swing open the salon doors once more. “I’m gonna confuse the shit out of Brooke. Shove all of her sapphic stereotypes up her ass.”

“As if she wouldn’t like that.” A’keria snorts, and Vanessa groans.

“Nasty. Point is, bitch has no clue I’m into ladies too. So, it’s time for me to get in her head. Make her reconsider how she sees other people.”

“How you gonna do that? Hytes is sharp. She’ll figure out something stupid in no time.”

Silky has a point. How can Vanessa fool Brooke in a way that won’t make her figure out what exactly is going on?

Except Vanessa, despite her normal state of being a bull in a china shop, does know subtlety, especially when it comes to displaying signals.

Which means she knows just how to get under Brooke’s skin.

The beanie from the top shelf of Vanessa’s dresser feels weird on her head the next morning. It’s one that she hasn’t pulled out since her college days when she had been trying to figure out her personal style and what suited her. Vanessa’s not mad at it, though, as she looks in the mirror. She’s still curled her hair and she’s still wearing heels but the button down she’s wearing with her sleeves rolled up is miles away from her normal aesthetic.

Not that she doesn’t rock it.

“Phase one, ladies.” Vanessa strides into the salon with a swing in her step, a coffee in each hand. Her first client isn’t coming in for another forty five minutes, but she’s here early for a reason.

“One of those for me?” Silky holds a hand out but Vanessa’s quick to lift the cup high in the air, out of her grasp.

“No can do. This one’s for someone in that dance studio four doors down. You know exactly who.”

Brooke’s fiddling with her phone, swiping through songs that play on the overhead speakers as the dancers in her studio warm up on the hardwood floor. Vanessa has to hold back a flinch at the way the dancers bend in half, pull their legs up higher than they ever naturally should be.

“Morning, Brooke!” Vanessa’s voice is faux cheerful, a smile on her face to hide the way she already wants to crack up.

“Morn!” Brooke’s none the wiser as she puts her phone down on the speaker system, turns around to face Vanessa before she pauses, eyes wide.

Bingo.

Vanessa can feel Brooke’s eyes trail up and down her frame as she hands Brooke her coffee. “You good? Looking a little spaced out there.”

“What? Yeah, I’m good.” Brooke sputters, taking a sip of her coffee to mask it but Vanessa catches it, of course she does. “What’s the coffee for?”

“Oh, no reason.” Vanessa shrugs, leaning against the wall. “Just thought I’d grab one for you, that’s all.”

“That’s, uh-very nice of you.” Brooke’s eyes are still as wide as saucers, and Vanessa has to hold back a snicker, because she’s so easy. “I like the beanie. Never seen you in one before.”

“Yeah?” Vanessa reaches up, fiddles with it, as if she hasn’t noticed it today at all. “Found this old thing in my closet and my hair was a mess this morning. Figured I’d bring it back, y’know?”

Sure, it’s a lie. Vanessa’s hair is meticulously styled as always, but Brooke doesn’t need to know that.

“Sure.” Brooke pauses on her words before continuing. “That shirt, too. It’s a nice one.”

Vanessa crosses her arms, the rolled up sleeves along her forearms showing off the simple black watch on her wrist. “Yeah? Didn’t think you ever liked what I wear. Or that you ever paid attention to my outfits. But it’s nice to know that you do.”

Checkmate.

Vanessa turns on her heels towards the door before Brooke gets to say another word, turning back towards Brooke as she’s about to step out. Brooke’s eyes are still on her, a crease in her brows, and Vanessa has never wanted to crack up harder.

“See you at lunch, Brooke.”

Lunch feels like it’s hours away, and it doesn’t stop V from fiddling with excitement throughout her morning appointments. The moment she gets to drop her styling shears and comb on her table is a relief, because it means that it’s time to execute the next part of her plan.

A’keria had originally made a face this morning when Vanessa had roped her into it, but Vanessa knows that she’s going to come through. Because A’keria is reliable like that.

Vanessa’s halfway through her dynamite rolls, but she feels like she has to scarf them down before the shenanigans unfold. She can’t focus on the conversations being held at their table, even though Monique’s story about their ridiculous customer from the morning is pretty funny. Especially because Brooke keeps peeking over at her while she picks at her tempura, which Vanessa catches because Brooke’s never been this quiet during their daily lunches before, so lost in thought with her brow furrowed.

Vanessa nudges A’keria beside her, their little signal. A’keria sighs a little before nodding, reaching for her phone, dialing Vanessa’s number. Just as they’ve planned.

Vanessa has to keep a snicker from getting out as Pussy Is God by King Princess starts blaring from her phone, because what better ringtone to choose for a scheme like this? Brooke’s head snaps up almost immediately, her eyes darting around the table to look for the source, and Vanessa takes the opportunity to stand up, hold out her phone.

“Gotta take this one, guys. I’ll be back, though!”

Vanessa has to try her hardest to not turn back, not peek at Brooke’s expression as she heads for the hallway with the sushi restaurant’s bathrooms, where she can answer A’keria’s fake call. “Thanks, bitch! I owe you one.”

“You really fucking do-”

Vanessa hangs up before A’keria’s done her sentence, and she can’t resist doing a twirl in front of the bathroom mirror, almost wanting to pat herself on the back. Because everything is unfolding exactly as planned.

She touches up her lipstick, dusts some more highlighter on her cheeks because she’s in front of a mirror, anyway, waiting for the time to pass. She watches the minutes tick by on her watch, and it’s hard, really, not to run outside right away, to see what Brooke’s face looks like at this very moment.

Kiki: what u got massive diarrhea in there or some shit

Kiki: come out already

Okay, maybe Vanessa should be waiting less than fifteen minutes.

It’s worth it, though, when she traipses out, sits right back down across from Brooke at the table, especially when Brooke’s face has about a million questions written across it.

“Sorry for leaving like that.” Vanessa holds out her phone, shrugs as she picks up her chopsticks once more. “Call from my ex, they’re in town. Wanted to catch up.”

“Oh?” Brooke’s face perks up in the most predictable way, and it’s exactly what Vanessa wants. Excellent.

Vanessa’s as cool as a cucumber on the outside, though. Quite an actress.

“Mhm.” Vanessa nods, grabbing an edamame bean as she does. “Think I’m gonna make plans with them for later this week. Our breakup was pretty chill.”

Brooke leans forward in her seat, ever so slightly. Just as she should. “What happened with you two?”

“We were just better off as friends.” Vanessa shrugs. “One of those people you still vibe with, y’know?”

“Sure…” Brooke trails off, tilting her head ever so slightly. “What did you say their name was again?”

“I didn’t.” Vanessa grins before standing up, tapping her watch with her other hand. “Though it’s almost one. Lunch is over, y’all.”

The corresponding groans echoing from the table, mostly from Monet, are worth it when Vanessa peeks at Brooke’s gobsmacked face.

She loves throwing her for a loop.

Brooke’s going to go insane. She really is. It feels like she’s in an alternate universe, where things are just not quite right, or maybe she’s been blind this whole time to it until now, but-

There’s something up with Vanessa.

It had started simple enough to be a coincidence. Vanessa in a button down shirt and a beanie. Sure, not her usual style, but we all experiment now and then. But then Vanessa’s ringtone had blared and it had been a fucking King Princess song, and she’d talked about an ex when she usually never does. Brooke had been listening, she really had, to see if she had been talking about a guy because, well…Vanessa’s straight, right?

But Brooke hadn’t been able to tell, and she’s still not sure. Because from how vague Vanessa was, she could have easily been talking about a girl or a nonbinary ex, for all that Brooke knows. But would Vanessa date someone who’s not a guy?

Brooke has no idea, and the mystery is killing her. Because Vanessa’s not gay. She can’t be. Can she?

Brooke needs to find out.

It’s a little while before Brooke sees Vanessa again, mostly because she has brainstorming lunch meetings with Detox before her friend begins to work on her dancers’ costumes before their spring showcase. It’s only for a few days, but Brooke feels like she’s going nuts, like she needs to investigate more or she’s going to lose it.

Detox notices, from the way her eyebrows are raised as she sits across from Brooke at her makeshift office in the studio. “Got ants in your pants, or something?”

“Detox.” Brooke rests her elbows on the table, leans forward slightly. “How good is your gaydar?”

“Gaydar isn’t a thing, dumbass. Straight people invented that.” Detox snorts. “If it was real, I’d be way better at hitting on the gay girls instead of the straight ones.”

“You just have a type, and that type is ��not interested,’ apparently.” Brooke winks at Detox when her eyebrows raise. “Don’t forget, I was there all throughout undergrad when you’d cry in the bathroom after another straight girl turned you down.”

“Undergrad was traumatic. Don’t remind me.” Detox shudders, before holding out her hand. “I won in the end, though.”

Brooke fakes gagging upon seeing Detox’s shiny bling on her ring finger, as if she doesn’t want a girl for herself, too. “Don’t remind me. We know you’re married.”

“You’re just jealous of how cute we are. Now tell me, which girl has gotten your panties in a tizzy?”

“Tizzy-no, she hasn’t gotten them in a tizzy. Gross.” Brooke makes a face. “It’s one of the girls in the salon over there. I thought I had her figured out, but…”

“But now your signals are crossed?” Detox looks delighted, a little too delighted, by Brooke’s plight.

“But now my signals are crossed.” Brooke sighs, leans her cheek on her hand. “What straight girl likes King Princess?”

Detox shrugs. “I dunno. She’s getting kinda mainstream now, isn’t she? I swear I heard her play on the radio once. I think you gotta keep investigating, Sherlock Holmes. Find out more.”

Brooke gets her chance to do just that when Nina texts their group chat to make a plan for drinks after work on a Friday afternoon. She’s never said yes faster because she knows Vanessa is going to come, which means that Brooke will have the chance to dig a little deeper.

The bar that they choose is blaring tunes on their overhead speakers, making it hard for Brooke to hear anything aside from the bass of the latest top forty song, but she leans in nonetheless over the table Because Nina is bringing up plans for Pride this year, and Brooke’s especially interested in the answers of one specific person.

Vanessa’s wearing Doc Martens and the sight had been disconcerting when they’d walked into the bar, because Brooke’s never seen her without heels. The plaid shirt tied around her waist is taunting Brooke, confusing her even more because it’s the type of shirt that Brooke herself would wear. She’d never thought that she’d have anything in common with Vanessa’s style in the past, though evidently, her closet has some exceptions.

“I’m thinking we can hit up Garage and O’Grady’s for sure. Crews is going to be too busy during Pride, it’s packed to the brim on a good day.” Nina has her notes app open as she makes their itinerary, and it almost makes Brooke want to crack up, how organized she is.

“What about The Drink? Shouldn’t be as crowded there, either.”

Brooke’s head pops up from her appetizer of mozzarella sticks to see who’s given the suggestion of one of her favourite venues - it’s not A’keria, who’s on her phone, not Monique or Monet, who’d both disappeared to the bathroom together ages ago. It’s Vanessa, leaning forward expectantly to peek at the list on Nina’s phone, and Brooke feels like she’s about to do a spit take.

How has Vanessa heard of The Drink? Brooke would get it if Vanessa’s heard of the popular gay bars in the village, the one that straight people tend to go to more often than not, but The Drink?

“You’ve been there before?” Brooke can’t help but internally curse at herself when the words slip out of her mouth but she can’t help it, because she’s more confused than ever.

Vanessa’s eyes are sparkling just a little too much, and it’s making Brooke’s head hurt, just a little. “One of my fave spots. Why, wanna go there sometime, B?”

Brooke doesn’t miss the way Silky snickers into her nachos, and she has to run her fingers through her hair, rub her temples a bit to clear her head. “I’ve been there plenty.”

“I’m sure you have, but that wasn’t my question.” Vanessa raises an eyebrow as she takes a sip of her drink.

Brooke pauses, because she can’t understand what Vanessa means with her statement, unless…

“Wait, are you asking me out?”

“You wish.”

And Vanessa’s winking at her, turning towards Silky and A’keria, and Brooke’s going to go grey, really, if everything keeps going on like this.

Vanessa’s having fun. Way too much fun. Enough that she’s going to be laughing about it for weeks, because getting under Brooke’s skin has never been so entertaining.

Brooke is lost. Dazed and confused. Vanessa’s plan is working out perfectly, because Brooke already seems to have been turned on her head, not quite sure what is going on anymore. Vanessa almost wants to take pity on her, reveal her ruse, that no shit she’s also into women. But it’s fun watching Brooke struggle a little bit as she tries to figure it out.

When Monique texts their group chat a day later that it’s been too long and she needs to go out before she absolutely loses her mind, Vanessa jumps to say yes. Because she knows Brooke’s going to come too, and she can pull another fast one on her.

Kameron’s quick to agree when Vanessa texts her about it, saying yes before even hearing the full story, but calling Vanessa nonetheless.

“You want me to-”

“Help me pull a stunt on my pal. Just be at the club around eleven tonight.”

“You’re a crazy bitch, and I love it.” Kameron’s laughing into the phone, and Vanessa knows she has her intrigued. “I’ll be there.”

Vanessa’s back in an off the shoulder top and tight skirt for their night out, because sure, they’re going to a lesbian bar, but a part of her has missed her own style. Besides, she’s not trying to pick up anybody tonight, anyway. She’s just trying to get the attention of one specific person.

A’keria and Silky slam their shot glasses down at the bar, and if this were any other night, Vanessa would join them, even though she’s the lightweight of the group. But she’s keeping her eyes peeled, listening to Nina and Brooke talk about their current Netflix obsession as she waits for Kameron to show up and set her plan in motion.

Kameron sits herself down at the end of the bar, and the way she chugs from her beer bottle, muscles flexing, is already making girls turn towards her, trying to bat their eyes at her.

Vanessa knows that Kameron’s more than whipped for her girlfriend, Asia, that she doesn’t really have eyes for anybody else. Which makes the way she pretends to check Vanessa out hilarious, with a smile cast towards her that must have worked well on Asia back in the day. Vanessa wastes no time in winking back, and by the time the bartender slides a drink to her (‘compliments of the lady at the end of the bar’) Vanessa’s already slid off her barstool, meandering over to where Kameron is sitting.

“So who’s the one you’re trying to get the attention of?” Kameron’s grinning as she sips her beer, and Vanessa can’t help but make a face at her wording.

“I’m not trying to get her attention. That makes it sound like I’m into her.” Vanessa scoffs, before taking a sip of her gin and tonic. “Just trying to teach her a bit of a lesson.”

“Sounds like a lot of effort to put in just to teach someone a lesson.” Kameron lifts her chin slightly, gestures to where Vanessa’s friends are sitting. “Is it the blonde?”

“I can’t turn around and look right now, but - yes, it’s the blonde.” Vanessa wants to fidget on her chair, turn around and see Brooke’s reaction for herself. “Why, what’s she doing?”

“She looks kinda pressed. You’ve definitely gotten her attention, alright.”

“Really?” Vanessa leans in closer to Kameron, trying to see if she can decipher what Brooke is up to from Kameron’s reactions. “How so?”

“Looking like she wants to come over here and give me a talking-to.” Kameron snorts. “Think you’ve made her jealous.”

“Jealous, huh?” Not Vanessa’s initial intention but…she’s not mad about it.

Brooke’s used to getting every girl she wants. Maybe this will be a change for her.

“I’ve missed you and your weird schemes, V.” Kameron clinks the neck of her bottle with Vanessa’s glass. “How’s the salon?”

“Good. We still all miss you, though.” Vanessa pouts, crossing her arms.

Kameron raises her eyebrows. “It’s been three years since I’ve worked there with you guys.”

“And yet no replacement employee has ever been the same.” Vanessa gives her best dramatic sigh, and it has the intention of making Kameron crack up. “How’s Asia doing?”

The telltale smile that rises on Kameron’s face at the mention of Asia is heartwarming, Vanessa can’t deny it. “She’s good. Currently watching Jeopardy reruns and she’d told me not to wake her up when I get home.”

“You guys are the cutest. I want me a girl like that.” Vanessa sighs, almost wistfully. It really has been awhile since she’s had a girlfriend, and she’s never had a relationship as adorably hilarious as Kameron and Asia with their bickering.

“Yesterday we started fighting over the proper way to pronounce ‘caramel,’ and I almost had to sleep on the couch.” Kameron’s deadpan voice makes Vanessa giggle, because the sight is so easy to picture. “But pause that conversation. Your girl’s walking over.”

“She’s not-”

“Hey Vanessa, everything okay?”

Vanessa spins on her stool to face Brooke, and Kameron plays her part by edging ever so slightly closer to her. Not quite with her arm around her, but enough to catch Brooke’s notice.

“Everything’s great.” Vanessa’s voice is chipper than usual, and she doesn’t miss how Kameron holds in a snort. So much for acting.

“Cool. Just checking.” Brooke looks like she’s on edge, like she’s biting her lip to keep herself from saying something.

Vanessa slides off the barstool with her drink in hand, trying to ignore the fact that she loses a couple inches off her height when she does despite the heels. “That being said, we’re pretty much wrapping up. Talk to you later, Kam?”

“See you around, V.” Kameron winks, winks, and Vanessa really does have to applaud her dedication towards acting the part.

Brooke follows behind Vanessa as they walk back towards their friends. Vanessa looks up at her as they weave through the crowds, tugs on her hand so that she doesn’t lose her. She plops back down on her original stool and Brooke sits down beside her, looking a little grumpy for a night out.

“Kam’s nice, isn’t she?” Vanessa watches Brooke’s face closely as she asks the question, sees the way she scowls.

“Sure.” Brooke grunts. “Do you guys know each other?”

“Nope.” Vanessa pops her lips on the final ‘p’. “She bought me a drink, so I went to talk to her. Turned down her offer to dance, though.”

Brooke looks up from her drink, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Because you weren’t interested?”

Vanessa shrugs. “Nah. Because my feet are tired in these heels.”

“Oh.”

“Wouldn’t say she’s my type, though.” Vanessa keeps her voice as light as possible, leans forward in her seat.

“No?” Brooke’s breath looks like it hitches in her throat, and Vanessa can’t help but tuck a lock of hair behind her own ear, drum her fingers on the tabletop.

“Nah. I like blondes, not redheads.”

The noise that Brooke makes as Vanessa walks away to join A’keria and Silky’s conversation is worth it.

The only thing worse than Brooke’s pounding headache from her hangover is the way she can still absolutely remember everything from last night.

She feels stupid, she really does. What made her go up to Vanessa like that? They’re friends, she’s not into her like that. Not when Vanessa doesn’t even like g-

Brooke doesn’t know anymore.

Her brain feels like it’s being pulled into a million directions, and Silky and A’keria had been no help, telling her ‘we’d know if Vanessa was gay, wouldn’t we? She’s our friend’ and ‘I dunno B, better go to the source yourself,’ and now, Brooke has no idea at all what to believe anymore.

Silky and A’keria wouldn’t steer her wrong, would they? But that redhead had clearly been flirting with Vanessa, and Brooke’s not sure why it had bothered her, really, but still. Brooke had only gone over to see if Vanessa was okay, if she was in a situation she didn’t want to be in, but Vanessa had been plenty enjoying herself. Maybe Vanessa had thought the redhead was being friendly.

But it’s too much for her brain to untangle during her late morning class, the blaring of the music over the speakers hardly a distraction from the way Brooke just wants to go back to bed. She can’t even imagine moving like her dancers are doing so on the floor, trying to twirl herself around. She needs more coffee.

The end of the class can’t come soon enough, and by the time the dancers are cooling down, stretching, Brooke’s heading for the Keurig machine in her office to fill up her cup again. The first sip burns her tongue and she yelps as she steps back into the studio, grumbling to herself as the dancers leave one by one.

Running a class on a Saturday at 11 a.m. had been a mistake.

Brooke doesn’t get to focus much on her scheduling shortcomings, though, when the door opens, the jingle of the chain making Brooke’s head snap up.

Of course Vanessa still looks put together the morning after a night out.

Vanessa pauses once she reaches Brooke, taking in her appearance. Brooke knows it’s nothing to write home about - her button down, her leggings, her ‘say hey if you’re gay’ mug that she’s clutching to like a lifeline - but hey, not everyone is capable of putting a full face of makeup on after getting hammered the night before.

Vanessa has a smile on her lips that Brooke doesn’t really understand, one that her brain isn’t working enough to decipher anyway. But then Vanessa sits down beside her, casts an eye to her mug.

“Hey.”

Brooke makes a face. Why is Vanessa being so weird in the morning? “Hi?”

Wait. Hold on.

Brooke can feel her jaw drop just as Vanessa begins to crack up, pointing to her mug. “You take a long time to realize things, y’know that?”

“But…what…how?” Brooke’s looking down at her mug, looking up at Vanessa, and Vanessa’s just said hey which means-

“Bi, not gay. But close enough.” Vanessa has a shit eating grin on her face but Brooke can’t really unpack it now, anyway, because her brain is just…mush.

“Wait…so you’re not straight?” Brooke needs another sip of her coffee, maybe another cup, because she’s not quite sure if she’s still asleep or not, because maybe she’s still dreaming, maybe the entire week of Vanessa acting strange has been a dream-

But Vanessa rolls her eyes. “No, dumbass. And when did I ever tell you that I was?”

“But you had a boyfriend-”

“Bisexuals exist, y’know.” Vanessa’s raising an eyebrow, and Brooke gives her a sheepish smile, because she absolutely has a point. “That’s what happens when you assume things about people.”

“Wait. That explains-”

“The outfits, the King Princess?” Vanessa snickers, and she really does look happy with herself. “Thought I could teach you a little something about not always following stereotypes.”

“Okay, but A’keria and Silky-” Brooke pauses, remembering their words. “They’d say they’d know if you were gay.”

Vanessa shrugs. “They didn’t lie. They’d know if I was, wouldn’t they?”

Brooke frowns when Vanessa cracks up, because it had been a play on words, sure, but absolutely made Brooke believe something else. “That’s fucking sneaky.”

“Sorry, B.” Vanessa’s the one looking a little sheepish now, scooting a little bit closer, and Brooke’s never really noticed how good her perfume smells, really. “Didn’t mean to deceive you. I mean, I did, but y’know.”

“I can’t even be mad, it was clever.” It’s true. Brooke’s lowkey impressed that Vanessa’s pulled it off, that she’s been duped to the high heavens and it makes her wonder if anyone else from their friend group had known. “Was anyone else in on it?”

Vanessa shrugs. “A’keria and Silky helped a bit, no one else from our friend group. Kameron did, though.”

Brooke pauses, remembering the redhead. “So wait…that chick. You knew her?”

“Kameron’s an old friend who is happily taken.” Vanessa winks at Brooke as she says the words and Brooke’s not sure why her heart feels a little bit lighter after the admission, but it does.

“Oh.”

“You look pleased to hear that.” Vanessa’s looking at her with an expression that is knowing, way too knowing, and Brooke scoffs.

“I’m happy for her happiness, that’s all.” It’s a flimsy excuse, one that Vanessa appears to see through right away, from the way that she scoots a little closer, resting a hand on Brooke’s leg. “But y’know, you did pull quite a fast one. You’re lucky my feelings aren’t hurt.”

Vanessa snorts. “What, would you want something in consolation?”

Brooke shrugs, looking at Vanessa properly. She sees the way Vanessa’s eyes are sparkling, the way there’s a smile threatening to light up her face that she’s trying to hold back.

So Brooke may as well try.

“Going on a date with me would help to soothe this wound, for sure.” Brooke gives Vanessa a fake pout, puts her hand on top of Vanessa’s. “Y’know, to make sure I’m okay and all that.”

“Just to make sure you’re okay, huh? No other reason?”

“Oh, I can think of plenty of reasons.” Brooke can’t help the cheekiness that pushes through, the charm (or lack thereof) that never seems to fail with the ladies. And it seems to work with Vanessa, who’s rolling her eyes but nodding her assent.

“Well. Fair’s only fair, I suppose I can out of the goodness of my heart.”

“The goodness of your heart, hm? As if you haven’t been flirting with me for the last week.”

Vanessa gasps. “I have not!”

Brooke grins, because now that she thinks back to it, it’s all beginning to make sense. “You totally were. You’ve been trying to get my attention this whole time.”

“As if.” Vanessa crosses her arms, and the pout on her lips somehow makes Brooke want to kiss her.

“So you don’t want to go on that date, then?” Brooke’s barely gotten the words out before Vanessa’s sputtering again.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Thought so.” Brooke grabs Vanessa’s hand, tugs her closer until she can see the gloss on Vanessa’s lips, the highlighter sparkling along her cheekbones.

“Shut up.” Vanessa’s lips are upturned as she says it, as her eyes drag down to Brooke’s lips. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

With that, Vanessa stands up, turns on her heels to leave the studio. Brooke can’t help but watch the view as she leaves, shaking her head.

She has no idea what she’s getting herself into with Vanessa, but she’d be lying by saying that she isn’t completely ready for it.

[bgn846]

Worthy Chapter 1: Bright Idea FFXV A/B/O Promnis

Summary:            

Being the thirteenth in line for the throne of Niflheim was bad enough. However, add the complication of being a rare omegan male to the mix and things were downright terrible.  Prompto had a small dream to sit on the throne one day if only to prove his worth.  He knew he couldn’t do it alone so he decides his best option is to hire a brilliant advisor to guide him to the top.

The issue being the advisor he really wants is already employed by the prince of Lucis, Noctis Lucis Caelum.   He also has to get over his innate fear of alphas since as it turns out the advisor is a rather intimidating one.

Will Prompto ever get the chance to rise in his position or will he be stuck at the bottom forever?

Written for the 2019 Promnis Big Bang

This is a re-post of an older work.  Wanted to set it free in the world again. :)

CHAPTER ONE:

The sides of the container felt like they were pressing in on him, but Prompto knew that couldn’t be true.  Wooden crates don’t suddenly develop the ability to move; his mind was playing tricks on him. The fact that the crate also held a stone statue didn’t help either.  What space was available was cramped and lumpy.

 Prompto kept telling himself that he only needed to deal with the waves of claustrophobia for another hour tops.  The dizzying feeling he was experiencing was nearly unbearable. He knew he was sweating profusely and closing his eyes only seemed to make it worse.  Being able to touch all the sides of his makeshift prison at the same time was not comforting.

 The ride in the drop ship from Niflheim to Lucis didn’t take more than a couple hours.  He knew that he’d been stuck in there for an hour already, according to his phone. Sixty more minutes.  He could do this. So long as he didn’t focus on the stale air and lack of light.

 Gods he had to stay calm. The last thing he needed was to be prematurely discovered due to  his distressed scent. If his irritating step brothers had let him come, then he wouldn’t be in this predicament.  Prompto didn’t remember there being a rule anywhere about omegas not being able to do dignitary visits.

 Sadly, his step-father was no longer alive, or he would have defended the poor blond.  The king of Niflheim had passed peacefully in his sleep two years ago. This left the country to be ruled by his remaining thirteen children, all of whom were alpha’s except for one: Prompto, the rare omegan male.  

 Since he wasn’t technically related to any of his brothers by blood, it made court life difficult.  The king had married his mother after she’d been widowed for many years. Prompto had grown to love his new step-father, but his brothers were another story.  They at least treated his mother with respect even after the king’s death.

 She had the smarts to stay out of the way of their antics and appear where they needed her for this and that.  She was still queen, despite her lack of power, and his mother knew better than to rock the boat. So life had gone on and Prompto had watched as he was pushed further and further out of the picture.

 Not that being thirteenth in line meant anything.  He realistically knew he’d never make it near the throne, which was why he was currently hiding in a crate bound for Insomnia.  Noctis Lucis Caelum, the only son and heir to the throne of Lucis, was a lucky sot. He didn’t have brothers to fight with, and his rise to the throne was guaranteed.  Prompto also knew he wasn’t alone in his endeavors. He had a royal advisor.

 Ignis Stupeo Scientia of House Scientia.  The man was renowned for his mental prowess, among many other traits.  Scientia was the reason Prompto had subjected himself to this risky trip.  He wished to hire the advisor for his own advancement. Niflheim wasn’t a rich nation, but it at least had enough royal reserves to pay handsomely for someone in Scientia’s position.    

 Prompto’s issue, though, would be finding Scientia to make his offer without getting caught.  Actually, who was he kidding? He had a lot of issues to deal with. A rather long list was growing in his head as he sat in the dark.  How would he know when exactly to exit the crate without getting caught? Was finding food and shelter going to be a problem? Why didn’t he pack a freaking bag?  Astrals, he was doomed. Maybe he should just stay in the crate and hope they forgot to unload it and went back home.

 That wish was not granted.  As soon as the ship landed, the crate started moving.  It was being unloaded. Trying to control his breathing, Prompto waited until the crate stopped and the voices nearby drifted away.  Groping around in the dark, he felt for the gap that indicated the lose panel of wood. Once he located it, he pulled it away and squeezed out.

 He’d had enough sense to change before he’d smuggled himself onboard.  Nothing stands out more than a blond-haired man wandering around in white princely raiment.  It was strange to be wearing civilian clothes, but it was necessary to blend in. Now all he to do was figure out where he was and how to locate Scientia.

 Peering out from behind a large shipping container revealed that the city center was not close.  Damn, how was he going to get to the citadel? His step brothers that had made the journey were riding in a caravan of fancy cars.  Unless he wanted a beating, he would have to stay out of their sight. His presence alone would make them go full alpha at this point.

 He’d been strictly forbidden from journeying with them to Insomnia.  His eldest step-brother, Alban, had resorted to shouting when Prompto had requested to go with them.  He was an omega, and he was not fit to travel with the royal party. The visit was merely to mark the centennial anniversary of the peace treaty signed between the nations.   Hence the giving of gifts, such as the statue he’d been stuck traveling with.

 A terrible idea flitted through the blond’s mind when he saw the royal’s tall clothing case being loaded on a truck.  He needed to hide in their luggage. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to get past the gate at the citadel.

 Prompto copied moves from a spy movie he’d seen recently and tried his best to covertly run towards the truck before they closed the door.  He was nearly there when a group of airport workers appeared. They were coming his way, and they were looking for something.

 He watched in horror as the group of men, probably all alphas, began sniffing around.  Shit. They were sniffing for him! One issue with emitting scents was you could never smell your own.  A distressed omega was easy to smell, and these men were headed straight for him.

 He ducked down behind a box and tried his best to calm down.   This was spectacularly bad. They would catch him and would not believe his story.  He didn’t bring any documentation; he was simply an unclaimed omega. They would probably kidnap him or force themselves on him.  That thought made Prompto shudder.    

 They were close enough now that he could hear them talking. Then suddenly a surge of alpha scent clogged his nostrils.  It was pure lust, they weren’t even hiding it.  

 “I know I smell a fucking omega,” one man piped up with a gruff voice.

 “It’s strong.  Must have been a stowaway.”

 “That’ll mean more fun for us, then.” Another chuckled sadistically.   “They’ll have no one to help them.”

 Prompto had to bite his hand to keep from whimpering.  He most definitely didn’t want to get caught by these thugs.  Suddenly, he heard another man yelling farther away. The group of men grunted in response and tried to yell back.

 “We can’t help you right now, man.  We’re hunting for something.”

 The response that came was still too far away to really hear.   Whatever they’d been told made them grumble louder, but they started to walk away.

 “This sucks.  There’s an unclaimed omega out there hiding, and we won’t be able to come back until later to search.”

 Okay.  That decided it.  Prompto absolutely needed to get his butt on the truck heading towards the citadel.  Using another silly spy movie move, Prompto threw a rock he’d picked up at a container to make a loud noise.   The two men loading the luggage turned and watched for a few minutes. It was just enough time for the prince to scurry on board and hide behind a large suitcase.

 The near encounter with the gross alphas had shaken him; he was trembling and had to sit down.  Thankfully, the men finished loading a few minutes later, and the door was closed right after. Great.  Stuck in another dark cramped space. Sighing heavily, Prompto tried to gather his thoughts.

 They might check the truck when they got to the gate; he needed to hide again.  The one benefit to technically being in the royal family was that he knew the combo to the luggage lock.  Using his phone flashlight, he was able to squish into the tall clothing case. Hopefully he didn’t pass out before they reached the guest quarters.

 If they found him stashed in their luggage, he’d most likely get locked back up in the box.  That would be extremely unpleasant. His step brothers weren’t exactly known for their kindness towards him.

 Unable to stop shaking, Prompto focused on breathing slowly.   The space he was currently occupied felt even tighter than the wooden crate. All the clothing was pressing up against his body and triggering his claustrophobia something fierce.

 Again waiting for the voices outside to fade, he cautiously exited the luggage case. Prompto all but collapsed on the floor when he felt the rush of fresh air hit his face.   Assuming he looked a right mess, he only took a moment to catch his breath and then scrambled to find another hiding spot.

 He’d moved just in time.  The door to the guest suite swung in, and Alban strode in with his brother Otho.  They were having a heated discussion.

 “I told you not to let Porcius come.  He’s a total bore,” Otho complained. “The Lucians will kick us out if he continues on in this manner.”

 “Relax.  It will be over soon enough, and then we’ll be home.   Captain Drautos and the Marshal know he’s harmless. They’ll escort him away from people, if need be.  So enjoy the food for now and the banquet tomorrow night. It’s the one time a year we get to have a taste of all the pretty Lucian girls they invite,” Alban commented.

 “Yeah, easy for you to say. They flock to you, since you’re first in line.  All those pretty girls want is to be queen.”

 Alban laughed.  “True, true. . . but you never know. I could actually meet someone worthy one of these visits.”

 “I doubt it, Alban.  You’re an absolute prick.” Otho snickered.

 It sounded like the two had resorted to shoving each other as the conversation died out.  The sound of the door opening and closing again indicated they’d left. Peering out from the drapery stack he’d been standing behind revealed an empty room.  He still had to get out and into the citadel to find Scientia. Staring at the door to the suite revealed an issue; he had no way of knowing who, if anyone, was in the hallway.

 There had to be an access corridor somewhere for the staff.  He simply needed to find that. After about twenty minutes and a few pinched fingers, Prompto found another door.  This one was expertly hidden in a wall of books. Shoving the secret door open, he stumbled out into a clinically lit concrete hallway.  The sound of the door latching and locking behind him caused Prompto to panic. Shit, how was he supposed to get back into the room now?

 He had no map and no idea where to go.  Opting to slowly wander the endless corridors, Prompto spent the next two hours hopelessly lost.  He was tired and thirsty and starting to wish he’d never hatched this hair-brained scheme.

 A small creaking sound would catch Prompto’s attention every so often, and he was starting to worry that this mind was playing tricks on him.  A moment later, he was being roughly tackled to the hard floor. He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful he wasn’t actually mad or just plain scared to death.

 Prompto had been trained to fight, but he had no one to spar with, so his skills were terrible.  The person who had attacked him was the total opposite. He even knew how to use magic – wait. That could only mean one thing.

 He’d been found by the last person he wanted to see: Noctis Lucis Caelum.  

 “What are you doing? What’s your mission?” Noctis growled in his ear as he pinned him to the cold ground.

 The Lucian prince had a knee in his back to keep him in place, and after a second, Prompto realized he was securing his wrists behind his back.  That act alone caused the blond to truly panic. “No, no! Please don’t do that. Don’t hurt me!” he wailed. His fear was taking over.

 “Well, tell me who you are, and maybe I’ll be nicer,” the prince retorted.

 Prompto couldn’t think straight and lied.  “I’m a servant for the Argentum family. Please, I got lost, don’t hurt me!”

 “Pffft, like I’m gonna believe that. Come on, buttercup.  You’re coming with me until I get you properly I.D’d,” Noctis announced as he briskly pulled Prompto upright and forced him to walk down the hall.

 Time blurred in Prompto’s mind, and after what felt like an hour but was probably closer to a few minutes, he was being shoved in a fancy wing chair.  Before he was able to register what was happening, Noctis had tied his ankles together as well.

 “Sit still and keep quiet.  I’m calling for backup.”

 Prompto wanted the chair to swallow him whole; this was so, so bad.  He pulled at his bonds slightly to test them. Noctis had done a good job.  He was stuck. He was aware of the prince on a call with someone. He caught the tail end of the conversation.

 “I found him wandering the back private corridors.” He paused as the other person spoke.  “I don’t know, Specs. Just come and help me figure it out, please.”

 The call ended shortly after, and Prompto was forced to wait. He hoped he wouldn’t pass out.  The anxiety alone was going to stop his heart. It wasn’t true, though; his heart was going to explode.  He had only to wait on their next visitor to prove it. The door to the room gracefully swung open and in stepped Scientia.

 Prompto’s mind was awash with emotion.  His rehearsed speech for Scientia was leaking out of his brain as the seconds ticked by.  It was being swept away by fear. The blond hadn’t taken into account one major thing: Scientia was an alpha.  He’d gotten the wrong information on the advisor. Based off the look Noctis was giving the man, he knew what had happened.

 Foolish omega that he was, he’d assumed Noctis was an alpha and Scientia a beta.  As he sat trembling in the chair, he saw his mistake clear as day. It was the reverse.  Alpha’s were a problem for him - a very big problem. When Noctis had tackled him, he’d been so caught off guard that it didn’t register that Noctis didn’t smell like an alpha.

 Most interactions with alphas went terribly for Prompto - so much so that he tried to avoid them all together. Hiding in his quarters and rarely making public appearances helped, but he was on his own right now.      

 What transpired next was unexpected, as Ignis stood near the door and dumbly looked from Noctis and back to Prompto.  “Noct, may I ask why on Eos you have decided to assault the crown prince of Niflheim?”

 “Wha – no—I’ve met them all, and he isn’t one of them,” Noct spit out in disbelief.

 “I can assure you, Highness, that this is Prince Argentum the thirteenth in line for the throne of Niflheim.”

 Noct was speechless as he stared at Prompto.  “Nooo, I would have remembered that. He looks nothing like them!” The prince was scrambling, trying to save face.  “I do read the briefings you give me. I’m not that bad!”  

 Ignis turned back to face Prompto. “Highness, do forgive prince Noctis. He can be lacking in manners at times, but I can assure you he means well.”  The advisor started walking over to his side of the room.

 Prompto yelped and shook his head vehemently.  “Stay away from me! Don’t hurt me!”

 This stopped Ignis in his tracks as a look of pure confusion bloomed on his pale face. “Highness, you’re safe. I can assure you of that. I won’t hurt you.”  He edged a little closer, seeming to test for a reaction. This also allowed the advisor to clearly see Prompto’s feet.  

 Still reeling from the whole experience, Prompto tried to curl in on himself. He wanted to hide.   But in an instant, the mood changed. The air was thick with the smell of an angry alpha.

 Ignis’ voice rang out loudly. “Noctis Lucis Caelum, why have you restrained him?!  For six sake, I can’t handle this right now! Go fetch me a glass of water. Now!” He growled.

 Stealing a glance at the dark-haired prince, the blond could tell that this reaction from Scientia was extremely rare.  The prince of Lucis looked like a kicked puppy. His eyes were wide, and he backed away quickly to leave the room. Looking back to Scientia, Prompto was expecting the anger to merely be redirected to him.  However, the advisor simply closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The scent in the room changed again, and Prompto could feel himself calming down.

 He whined softly, since he didn’t really understand what was going on.  When Scientia opened his eyes again, he seemed more relaxed.

 “Highness.  If I may, I would like to release you.” Scientia stated as he waited for Prompto to agree.

 Prompto’s brain was mush. He couldn’t think straight anymore, but he did know he wanted to be untied.  He just had to risk letting this alpha touch him. “Promise you won’t hurt me?” he questioned again quietly.

 “I promise.” Scientia replied, still waiting for permission to approach.

 Nodding slowly, Prompto still couldn’t help but flinch when Ignis began walking over.  He closed his eyes and waited. The rope at his feet was loosened first, and he felt a strong but gentle touch squeeze his calf.  Daring to crack his eyes open, he was surprised to find Ignis kneeling on the floor beside him.

 The very idea of an alpha kneeling before an omega would have made his step brothers cringe.  Yet, here was one doing just that. Prompto allowed Ignis to coax him forward in the chair so he could reach his hands.    

 “Are you injured in any way?  I can secure a potion for you, if necessary,” the alpha asked from where he was still crouched on the floor.

 Shaking his head, Prompto leaned back in the chair and rubbed his wrists.  Noctis finally came back into the room with a glass of water. He stalled out a few steps from them as if waiting for permission.

 Ignis sighed and motioned him over.  “I’m not cross with you, Noct. It’s merely a diplomacy nightmare when you accidentally attack a visiting prince.”

 “No one knows I’m here,” Prompto offered right away. “I wasn’t supposed to come on this trip.”

 The prince of lucis made an odd grunting noise and looked at Ignis with a ‘I told you so’ expression.

 Ignis rolled his eyes and pointed at the glass of water.  “I do believe our guest might be thirsty.”

 Once Prompto had secured the glass with both hands, he nearly gulped its whole contents down.  Then, in a flash, his insecurities came flooding back. What if they were drugging him? He must have looked distressed, or maybe he’d started emitting a scent, because in an instant the advisor was in his line of sight with a concerned look.

 Oddly enough, it was Prince Noctis who figured out the issue.   His solution was to snatch the glass back and take a sip. “It’s not been tampered with. It’s just water.” He finished, then set the glass down on the coffee table.  “I’m sorry I tackled you. I really didn’t recognize you.”

 Unable to respond due to his nerves, Prompto focused on breathing.  The calm feeling from earlier was still permeating his senses and helping.  Unfortunately, his journey was over almost before it had begun. Now that he’d been caught, there was no choice but to face his step-brothers’ wrath and hope the punishment wasn’t too severe.   Scientia being an alpha had wrecked his plan. Prompto wasn’t sure he could handle working with one.

 “So I suppose I’ll have to fess up for delaying you, huh?” The prince pondered from where he leaned against the sofa arm.

 “Um – you don’t have to say anything.  I can go back to the room by myself.” Prompto hoped they might let him walk out of there without issue.

 “What if you get lost again?  I can’t let that happen. Now that I know who you are, I really need to make sure you stay in good hands,” Prince Noctis announced.

 “Highness, may I inquire as to how you arrived here?” Scientia asked, looking at Prompto.

 The blond tried his best to not look at the floor when he answered, but it was so hard with Scientia’s green eyes staring right at him.  “I snuck aboard the drop ship in the cargo area.”

 Noct leaned forward at the comment and looked slightly shocked. “I thought when you said that no one knew you were here, you only meant you came on a different ship.  Not that you stowed away!”

 Shaking his head, Prompto lost the battle to continue looking at the advisor.  He averted his eyes, focusing on the floor instead. Scientia hadn’t moved from his position.  Prompto didn’t know why, but it was comforting to not be talked down to.

 Ignis seemed lost in thought and eventually repositioned himself to sit on the coffee table.  “Might it be more prudent for you to remain hidden while you’re here? I’m sure we can arrange a covert transport to take you back home.”    

 Hardly able to believe what he was hearing, Prompto nearly fell out of his chair.  “You mean it?” he asked, wide-eyed.

 “Why would that make a difference? His family is here - wouldn’t that be a better way to get home?” Prince Noctis asked, perplexed.

 Scientia pursed his lips and looked up at the prince.  “I trust that you have at least been able to deduce that Prince Argentum is an omega, correct?”

 “Well, yeah, of course, wha --.”

 “Then you should also be aware that the royal family of Niflheim is headed mostly by alphas.  Who happen to have a rather dated opinion of omegas. Which is rather upsetting considering that one of their own is of that dynamic.”

 The Lucian prince addressed Prompto directly for his next bevy of questions.  “So you would prefer that none of your brothers know you’re here?”

 “Step-brothers,” Prompto corrected.

 “Sorry, but won’t someone notice you’re missing back home if you are gone for more than a day?”

 “Not really.  I mostly stay in my room,” the blond mumbled.

 “The queen perhaps? Might you like to get a message to her?” Scientia asked kindly.

 Prompto sighed. “My mum already knows.  I knew she’d come looking for me, so I told her my plan.”

 “Yeah, that was my next question. What on Eos would you come here for?”  Noct blurted.

 The truth was easy to say, but Prompto knew he would be laughed at if he admitted his real reason for coming, so he lied again.  “Uh, I just really wanted to see the capital city. I’ve never been.”

 Prince Noctis scowled at the response.  “That sounds a little lame to me, but I guess everyone has their own dreams.”

 “Noctis!” Scientia exclaimed.  “Why are you being so crass today? What has gotten into you?”

 The prince of Lucis rolled his eyes and looked away.  Clearly he’d been around Ignis for a long time to treat him that way and not get reprimanded.

 The advisor frowned and made to stand up.  “I will work on securing transport for you to return home.  Would you be alright staying here with Noctis for now?”

 Prompto thought for a second and was working through his fears. Noctis didn’t seem that bad. He was a beta and had the chill demeanor of one to match.  If the prince didn’t mind him staying, then he did feel safe there. “I would like to stay, if it’s alright.” he responded meekly.

 Scientia looked to the dark-haired prince and waited for an answer.  Prince Noctis shrugged noncommittally. “I thought all visitors to my suite had to go through a background check first.”  It appeared to Prompto that the lucian prince was trying to point out a mistake to Scientia.  

 The royal advisor raised an eyebrow and turned to Noctis. “What makes you think I have not done this already?  Prince Prompto was on the list of possible guests so he has already undergone the background check.”    

 “Oh.” Noctis mumbled, “I don’t mind if he stays then.  It will be nice to have someone else around.” He finished.

 “Very well, then.  I will return once I have more information.   Noct, I believe you may need to order dinner soon.  I have a feeling our fair-haired friend here may be getting hungry.”

 As if on cue, Prompto’s stomach growled loudly, and he could feel his face flushing.  “So you won’t tell my step-brothers I’m here?” he confirmed again, still slightly scared of what would happen if they found out.  

 “Your safety is important.  I will endeavor to keep your presence hidden while you are visiting, Highness.” Ignis offered with a small bow.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to work.”  

 As quickly as the man had breezed into his life, he waltzed back out.  Scientia was gone, and Prompto wasn’t sure he’d see him again. He was a coward for not saying anything about his real reason for coming. Maybe he saw the bond that already existed between Noct and his advisor. They were close, and he knew Scientia wouldn’t leave his position.  No money on Eos would convince him otherwise. That much was obvious.

 Noct’s waving hand suddenly appeared in his vision.  “Hey, you okay there? Um – do you want to play some video games while we wait for dinner?”

 “Huh? Sorry, uh – yeah, sure, that sounds like fun.”

 “Don’t tell Iggy I had to ask, but what is your first name?”

 “Who’s Igg—y?” Prompto tried out the name on his lips.

 “Ignis, my advisor. The tall dude who invoked the power of the gods on my ass earlier when he asked for water.”  

 “Oh. My name is Prompto.”

 Prince Noctis sighed and seemed to relax a little.  “That’s a good name. You can call me Noct, by the way.  All my friends do.”

 Prompto was slightly stunned by that admission as he followed Noct into another room and watched the prince get his game system ready.  Maybe he was wrong to assume he wouldn’t get along with the other prince. Getting comfy on the couch, he accepted a gaming controller and proceeded to tune out the real world.

 For the first time he actually felt at ease.  Maybe he would survive his adventure yet.

> Next Chapter 2

[chrisevansbabymama]

Daddy Hair Care - Chapter 4.1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4.1 - American Boy:

It was 9:51pm when Kayla looked up as the semi-sheer curtains on her booth were drawn open and Chris hovered above her. She locked her iPhone screen, the gadget that had served as a good distraction and company as she waited for him and Lauren. Keith and Tiffany had opted out.

After sending Chris off to his press event, Lauren retreated back to her suite a few doors down to nap, whilst Kayla went back home. She could have napped, but she used the hour to get ready for the dinner. It may or may not have had something to do with making an effort for Chris. She consulted her best friends’ Amanda and Michelle’s help, who co-signed that she should look “casually sexy,” like she wasn’t even trying to make an effort. So she settled for a no make-up, make-up look but with a bold lip. Her lips were her favourite feature. Then she wore high-waisted mom jeans that accentuated her butt (another one of her favourite features), completed with a roll-neck and satin heels.

But Chris had turned up on his own and still wearing the four-digit expensive suit from the event. He looked just as dreamy as he did when he left his suite earlier.

“Hey,” she greeted, taking him in as he slid in the booth opposite her.

His cologne wafted the small space. She breathed him in.

“Hey London,” he said and slid off his coat.

“Hollywood,” she shot back before chuckling at her nickname, “You haven’t called me that in a while,”

“I forgot I even used to call you that,” he smiled and then eyed her drink. “Have you guys ordered - where’s Lauren?”

“I thought she was coming with you?” Kayla explained, only to be met with his perplexed expression. “She told me she was running late and was going to

wait for you to come back to the hotel to change, and then you’d come together,”

“No,” he said slowly, recalling his conversation with her earlier. “I spoke to her when I was leaving the event just twenty minutes ago and she said she was already here with you,”

Even more confused by the mismatching narrative, Chris chewed on his bottom lip, deep in contemplation. This wasn’t like Lauren to lie. But she had said she was tired and wanted to spend the evening and all weekend in bed, before she came up with the plan to go out for dinner.

Kayla noticed his face change as if he suddenly had an epiphany; he shook his head in disbelief.

“What?”

“Seb,” he muttered, concluding quickly.

Kayla’s eyebrows knit together, now just as confused as he was.

“I bet she’s with him,” Chris said confidently with a nod.

But that didn’t make sense to Kayla; why wouldn’t Lauren tell Chris the truth if that was the case? And why did she lie to her and insist that she was coming out for dinner? But she shook her head, dismissing the thought. They were not best friends, so Lauren didn’t owe her an explanation about her private life; Chris perhaps, not her. And she supposed it made sense that she was lying if she was sneaking around with Seb.

But Kayla immediately had her own epiphany; that she was going to be spending the evening alone with Chris. She suddenly felt sick. Of course she’d been in his company, alone, on multiple occasions when Lauren had slipped out of the dressing room or his hotel suite to return his loaned suits, or grab a coffee.

But never like this, never in an intimate setting where she wasn’t working and had that to distract her. All of a sudden being up close to his face on a daily basis wasn’t as intimidating as this scenerio. She actually felt bad for Chris. He was the one getting the short end of the stick and now stuck with her, she bet he probably preferred to be in his suite with room service instead of this.

“Shall we call her?”

“Hmm, maybe not,” Chris replied quickly. “Probably best to leave her to it,”

“I’m sorry,”

“For what?”

“You’re stuck with me,” she shrugged, she lowered her posture. “Rain check? We can rearrange it for another time with everyone else?”

He paused, scrutinising her concernedly, “Why? You tired? I mean, I’m hungry and I could really eat so I’d prefer not to turn this down,”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this since we talked about it at the hotel,” Chris reached for the menu. “You scared of being alone with me without your crutch, Lauren?”

“Oh shut up,” she huffed, her posture straightened back up without much thought.

“Just me and you London,”

And just like that, she felt normal around him again.

“How was the event?” she finally asked to break the silence as he studied the menu.

He sighed and gave her a look, that although she wasn’t Lauren - who was an expert at reading him, she understood this look: just…don’t.

“That bad?”

“I just hate those events, I knew no one. Y’just kinda stand around and mingle with a champagne in hand and pop a canapé here and there, and keep smiling for the cameras. It was a recipe for an anxiety attack,” he rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t wait to leave, at least I had this to look forward to,”

Had been looking forward to this as much as she had? Was he counting down the minutes, like she had been too?

“And as usual, every journalist was asking me about my Cap diet,” he rolled his eyes. “That’s all they know to talk about,”

“Like you’re some piece of meat,” Kayla offered to lighten up the mood, after noticing how distressed he was getting.

And it worked, he was startled at first but then a grin marked his features, letting her know that he was okay with the sparring. But that precipitated the nerves again for her; she could handle him, but usually that had been with Lauren in the audience. On her own, she felt cornered like he would see through her jokes.

“Like some piece of meat,” he echoed and then his voice went up an octave as he feigned pain in a playful voice. “I am more than my looks, I’m someone’s son and I’m a daddy,”

A daddy...she mused.

Kayla looked down to hide the smile threatening to light up her features. She needed to get out of her own head if she was going to survive this evening with him. As that realisation hit her again, coming to her in waves, her heart

thudded and she glanced at her phone. If only she could tell her friends that she was now out alone with him. But there was no way she could pick up the gadget surreptitiously and not only because it was rude, but her palms were a sweaty mess.

“I’m going to treat myself tonight, London. I’m going all out, what’s the greasiest option here?” he gave her a determined look. “Let’s give them a different variation of Cap’s body and see what they will ask me,”

“I’d recommend the tempura options if you really want to suck it to them, otherwise there’s not much grease here,” Kayla pointed out, receiving a child-like groan from the man across the table.

He grumbled, scanning the menu quickly to confirm that nothing else on there was going to satiate his appetite. The second he left the press event he had decided that it was going to be a cheat night; but he wasn’t going to find his pleasure in a sushi restaurant.  

“Wanna go somewhere else?”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’ve already made you wait all this time-“

“It’s okay. I would love a proper meal too, since someone’s made me wait this long to eat,”

“Sorry,” Chris said sheepishly, catching the playful shot at him for making her wait.

“C’mon Hollywood,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “I know a place,”

________

“This is everything I didn’t even know I needed,” Chris groaned with a mouthful of food.

It was a short while later when the two found themselves tucked away in the back of a darkly lit unassuming Lower East Side eatery. As her go-to for comfort food, Kayla thought it was ideal spot for Chris hide away. The sushi restaurant scene was almost too similar to the crowd he had left at the magazine party; dressed up, well-heeled, mini dresses and cleavage, suits and perfume drenched guests everywhere, with sake on the drinks menu.

Despite being overdressed for this crowd, they felt more relaxed. At the eatery, there were distressed jeans, sneakers, thick layered outfits to combat the cold, and drinks on the menu with names like Freaky Friday and OMG! They Killed Henny. Chris was tickled and he’d giggled at the names for longer than they warranted.  But Kayla didn’t mind, she appreciated his sense of humour and that he didn’t take things too seriously.

“I could so eat this every day,” she told him wearing a look of adoration; happy to be eating at long last.

“I’m impressed, London. The concept always seemed bizarre to me, but this is golden,” he reached for syrup and drizzled it all over his waffles until they were swimming in the saccharine liquid.

Kayla felt all giddy at impressing Chris. She loved their little sparring matches and quips, but when he was complimentary, it gave her confidence that he took her seriously. She wasn’t just there for some comic relief.

“Is this really your first time trying chicken and waffles or are you trying to be cute?”

“Believe me, it is and I’m not proud of it,”

“Wow, I’m disappointed Evans,” she meant it.

“I don’t get out much, and I’m not allowed to eat this stuff,”

“You sound like a kid! Surely you have cheat days?”

“Usually it’s pizza, nachos, ice cream and beer. I’m a creature of habit,” he shrugged, shoving his face with another bite. “A simple guy,”

“I just thought chicken and waffles was simple? Isn’t it the most basic combo -the American equivalent to fish and chips?” she commented. “I bet you don’t cook. Do you cook?”

“Do I cook? Of course I cook,” he gave her a ridiculous look.

“Hey,” she looked at him pointedly. “I could have asked you what your Cap diet consists of,”

He deadpanned, “Yeah, touché,”

“Okay, so what do you cook, what’s your knockout meal? I gotta warn you, my standards are low,”

“I can knock a tagine out the park…pesto eggs…I make mean pesto eggs,”

“I don’t believe it,”

He shrugged, “Not really fair if I can’t prove myself without a kitchen,”

“True,”

“What’s your ‘knockout’ meal?”

“I make a good pad thai, and I bake a lot too,”

“I don’t believe it,” he mocked her with a lopsided grin. “Prove it,”

“Unlike some people,” she coughed a ‘you’ under her breath. “Some of us are normal and don’t live in hotels, so I actually can prove it,”

He looked at her, shocked at the low blow. She flinched at the expression, realising how insensitive she came across.

“Chris, I’m so sorry, that was so insensitive,”

“It was,” he pointed a look at her, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth put her at ease; he hadn’t taken offence. “You owe me, now you have to cook for me,”

Caught off-guard by his flirty remark, she became shy; imagining the domesticity of his proposal. It was something that had always occupied her imagines and thoughts on a few too many occasions.

Chris blushed. It was almost visible, his face had turned a soft pink hue as he also imagined it: watching her taking charge of the kitchen to cook for him. He was certain that she was a good cook. Lucky for him, the dim lighting had obscured just how bashful he was.

“I’ll help you, of course, because otherwise that’s just sexist of me to demand you to cook for me,” he corrected.

Everyone inch of Kayla’s feminist inhibition wanted to say ‘damn right,’ but the sexiness of this entire scenerio crippled her.

Patriarchy 1 - 0 Kayla.

“You seem very convinced that it’s going to happen,”

“Speaking it into existence,” he imitated her mantra with a wink that she didn’t know what to do with.

So really if she played her cards right, she could have Chris Evans in her home? And cook for him?

“We’ll see,” she said casually, but deep inside she was screaming.

“Don’t you feel sorry for me? I eat out of take out boxes, or room service. I miss a good home-cooked meal,”

“That hardly seems like a nightmare,”

“You’re lucky I’m not travelling for the Infinity War press tour. I’d love to take you with me and see how you survive out of your territory,”

To him it was a careless and empty threat, but to Kayla, she hung onto the fact that he had even considered her as an option.

“You’re just showing off because New York is your territory,” he continued.

“Hardly! London’s my territory,” she laughed at how worked up he was getting. “So what’s brought you out tonight if eating out isn’t your favourite thing to do? You’re usually one to hide away indoors?”

“Seb’s been bothering me to get out more and ‘put myself out there’ to start dating again, I kinda ignored him until my ma said the exact same thing,” he sat back. “Which clearly means that I have a boring life. If I’m not with Mya or Dodger, I’m either napping or working,”

“So your tactic to live a carefree life is to hide at the very back of a hidden restaurant, stuff your face with waffles drenched in syrup?”

“It’s a good start, baby steps,” he considered, before they both started laughing.

Kayla considered what he meant by ‘putting himself out there,’ had he been reserving himself all along? She wondered how long he’d take to make a move on her if he liked her. Then she felt ridiculous for even thinking it possible, Chris was clearly the type that made a move if he liked someone. Judging by his lifestyle and age; being a dad and all, with a career going for him, he didn’t seem like the type to waste time. He had that sexy and mature ‘I know what I want and I get what I want’ aura about him.

So why hadn’t he made his move, if he liked her as much as Lauren proposed?

“As the singles on Team Chris Evans, me and you should make a pact,” he lifted his glass and nodded at hers. She mirrored him.  “From now on, we are going to make time and put ourselves out there,”

It wasn’t a secret that she was single, but she’d never had a conversation with him for him to know that she was. Something about the way he made that assumption bothered her. Was she that unappealing that it was obvious she was single?

She didn’t call him out on his (albeit correct) assumption though, she clinked her glass against his as he made a toast to being single ‘but ready to mingle.’ Really, the playing field wasn’t levelled; if he wanted, he could be in a relationship tomorrow. He had a queue of women around the world ready to say yes to him.

But she smiled and pretended it was okay, like she knew to.

Like she always did.

Like she always had to.

Chris downed the last of his beverage and sat back again, satisfied. A food coma was imminent, so he stifled a yawn and stretched. Even then, it was a sight for Kayla, it wasn’t even the way his muscles contracted and wrestled with his dress shirt. He just looked so soft and needy. In need of a cuddle, she concluded. The man could just breathe and that was enough for her to lose her senses.

“Long day,” Kayla said sympathetically.

“Man, you have no idea,”

“Let’s get the check,”

“I don’t wanna go home, well, back to the hotel. I’ll just sleep,” he frowned.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

He looked at her incredulously, “No! It’s a Friday night, putting myself out there and being carefree, remember?”

Kayla thought, “Okay, you can walk me home, that’ll kill sometime,”

“It’s cold,”

“Hence why we’re walking, it’ll keep us warm. I live five minutes from here,”

“That’s not really how the science works,” he stated. She gave him a blank look. He groaned, “A car is better and warm, there is heating,”

“This is so Hollywood of you, Evans. I doubt you’ll meet the woman of your dreams when you’re tucked away in the back of an Uber. Put yourself out there,” she pepped him. “What if you get cold? Carefree, remember?”

What if the woman of my dreams is already there with me? Chris smiled, failing to hide it; Kayla thought her pep-talk was resonating with him.

Chris resigned, “This is so London of you. You’re used to your crappy weather, you can shoulder the cold,”

“You’re so Hollywood, I’m in heels and I’m not complaining,” she pierced her eyes at him. “But you’re all, ‘I’m Chris, I’m from LA where it’s always hot, and I don’t walk anywhere because I have personal chauffeurs-“

“Fine, we are going to walk,” he said determined to show how normal he was.

“Before we go,” she bit her bottom lip nervously, realising he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore. “I kinda lied, it’s more like a fifteen minute walk,”

“Okay, if I’m bearing the cold to get you home, you’re cooking for me next time. I mean that,”

“Deal, and relax, it’s not even that cold,”

Chapter 4.2

_________

Disclaimer: Gif Not My Own

Tags:  @mississippifangirl​ @thinemineours @tessathedragon @thottio​ @caninoona @eratotalles @allonszassbutt @thinemineours @dreamingwithmendes @void-imaginations​ @daybreak96​ @l-auteuse​ @cliffordasparagus @bumber-car-s @lvlyab @melaninmarvel @milkymil-k

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Would You Be Mad? (SMUT)

anonymous said: Since requests are open can I request a smutty yet fluffy Bri please ? 💞

(a/n: srry for any typos im posting this RLLY quick before i go into work so pls dont roast me ok enjoy ur sinful sunday u nasties. also as always gif creds to @imladrs)

There were a lot of things in life you’d expected to hear from Brian May. Let me tune my guitar again, did you hear about this obscure blah blah scientific find, Roger’s an arse, why is Freddie being a tart, is there a meat-free option – you had heard them all. You expected them, and in turn, you received.

“If I kissed you, would you be mad at me?” was not one of those things. But now you had heard it, live and in the flesh, and you had no idea how to react.

You had chose to spend the night in, declining a night on the town with the boys, and Brian ended up missing you about an hour into drinking, so his tipsy giant self managed to show up on your doorstep, looking undeniably fit in a simple green polyester button up and black trousers. The buttons of the shirt were undone to the middle of his chest and was askew from his hour at the club, revealing hints of a gently tanned, slim torso, and his mid-waist trousers only accentuated his already long legs. He’d drank just enough to give his eyelids a bit of weight, and the way he looked at you with heavy hazel eyes and a toothy grin made your cheeks heat up.

God, keep it in your pants, you’d thought as you let him in. And maybe he’d been thinking the same. After all, you weren’t expecting company, so your lace and silk teddy/shorts combo was practically leaving little to be desired for. But neither of you had followed that rule tonight, and now you were here, Brian fucking May asking if you would be angry if he kissed you. As if.

It started out innocent enough. You’d invited him in, gotten him a glass of water and some snacks. He was grateful, and sat cross-legged on the end of your pull-out couch’s bed, snacking away. You returned to your laying position you’d been in before he’d arrived, on your side facing him, when he’d suddenly brought up your ex in the middle of polite conversation.

“How is Colin?” he asked, visibly sneering as he said his name and making you laugh as you toyed with the pages of your book, not really reading at this point. Brian was now laid down at a weird angle, his head resting against your stomach as he laid across the diagonal length of the bed so that his feet weren’t dangling off. Sitting your book to the side, you began to play with a piece of his hair and pursed your lips, trying to think of the last time you’d heard from Colin.

You knew Brian had always disliked him thoroughly, and this had led to Colin accusing Brian of trying to steal you from him, which had blown up into this whole big thing that ended in Colin leaving and Brian trying to avoid seeing you so he wouldn’t upset you. But it didn’t last. Brian was back within a few weeks, showing up at random times to spend the day with you. After all, you’d both clearly preferred each other’s company the most for a long time, and had been close friends for even longer. Even Roger was jealous of how much time Brian spent with you, but he never made a big deal about it with Brian. Instead, he made it a running joke, but that was okay with you, and you assumed it was okay with Brian (It was - he loved it).

“Haven’t got a clue, honestly,” you admitted, twirling a single curl around your finger before slowly stretching it out. “Haven’t seen him since he showed up on my doorstep drunk last month,” you teased playfully, giving his hair a gentle tug and smiling softly. “But I turned him away.”

Brian, unbeknownst to you, gasped softly and shifted his hips, turning a brilliant shade of red as you tugged on his hair. He was already drunk and horny, so everything about you in your silk teddy and shorts, right there for the taking, was turning him on. Now it was getting to the point where he needed to act on it before he had a mess to clean up in his trousers. They were restricting enough that he felt like he was going to burst out of his pants if he wasn’t careful, so he flipped over on his stomach, holding back a sharp inhale as his clothed cock rubbed up against the bed while he was getting comfortable.

After a shaky recovery breath, he spoke. “The difference between me and Colin showing up on your doorstep is that I’m a young, dashing, intelligent man here to have a good night in with you, and he’s just… well, Colin.” That got you giggling, and Brian grinned lopsidedly as he rested his head on both of his hands, crossing them and laying down on your thighs. His warm, twinkling eyes scanned your face as you laughed, soaking all of it in. “Besides, fuck him!”

“Why so?” you asked, a cheeky edge to your voice as you sat up a bit. You’d be lying if you said the sight of Brian down there wasn’t doing something for you, so upped the ante a bit against your common sense. “And I mean, I have, so there’s that.”

“Oh, you know what I meant,” Brian groaned, still grinning as he propped his arm up on your leg carefully, resting his head in his hand. “I bet he’s a lousy fuck either way. Probably doesn’t even know how to last longer than 30 seconds.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” you mused, mainly to yourself, and then you reached out again to toy with his hair. “I don’t even know if he was attracted to me very much. It seemed like I didn’t really do it for him unless I was a quick fuck. Must not have been his type or something.”

“You, not doing it for him?” Brian asked, his voice unashamedly incredulous. “The man must be blind, then. You’re way too pretty to just be a ‘quick fuck.’” Your cheeks flushed a bit as he continued to watch you, eyelids still heavy from the liquor in his system but his eyes alive and teeming with energy. “You’re beautiful, Colin’s a prick for not appreciating you as much as you deserve.”

“Brian, you’re just drunk and saying that to be nice. Stop being such a sweetheart,” you laughed softly.

He rolled his eyes and gave you an ‘are you kidding’ look before shaking his head. “I’m serious, Y/N, you’re gorgeous. You’re mental if you don’t think I’m telling the truth. Why won’t you believe me?”

“Ouch,” you laughed, rubbing the side of your face and smiling as Brian cocked his head to the side a bit, curious. “I’m mental? That pisses me right off, I’ll have to kick you out of here for that one.”

“Oh, no!” Brian pretended to be panicked, but it only lasted a moment before he started grinning dopily again. “I don’t want to make my lovely host angry, I take it back.” A wide grin spread across your face as you gently shoved his shoulder, and his unbalanced equilibrium made him fall backwards with a groan. And when he rolled over, you were immediately distracted by the bulge in the crotch area of his pants, your cheeks flushing even more than before.

Suddenly, the air was tense as Brian noticed where you were looking, but he didn’t seem ashamed when he met your gaze again. Instead, he sat up, hovering over you as he kept eye contact, his gears shifted completely. No longer was playful Brian up to bat. This was different, a Brian you’d never seen before. He was imposing, attentive, and sensuous as his hand came to rest on your side. There was still a sweet look in his eyes, but something else lingered there, something darker.

You tried to say something, anything, but no words would come to mind as you stared back at him for what seemed like way too long. His tongue darted out and quickly wetted his lips as he glanced at yours, and then you spoke, finally remembering that the two of you were actually in the middle of a conversation. “You take it back? What part?”

He ignored that, the corner of his lip tugging upward as he leaned in a bit closer, then stopped himself. “If I kissed you, would you be mad at me?” His voice was somewhat clear, drunkenly unafraid, and he watched your eyes for any hint of a reaction as you remained quiet, biting your lip.

Finally, you responded. “Can’t be kicking you out if you kiss me, can I?” Brian’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he chuckled, and his hand slid around you to rest on your lower back as he pressed his forehead against yours, your noses brushing up against one another’s before you closed the distance and pressed your lips to his.

He tasted like whiskey and beer, an intoxicating mix of the two still lingering on his lips as he kissed back, a languorous pace to it while he savored the feeling of your lips on his. You reached up to cup his jaw with one hand, and he almost leaned into your touch as he tilted his head slowly, deepening the kiss and pressing your body up against his. The taut front fabric of his trousers pressed up against your thigh, so you raised your thigh up a bit to rub it against his bulge.

A breathy moan escaped his lips, Brian pulling away for a moment to regain his thoughts before he kissed you again, rolling over on his back and pulling you on top of him. He wasn’t urgent about it, taking it slow and easy as he sat up a bit to make it easier for the both of you. His hand rubbing up and down your side, he spoke against your lips quietly, just for the two of you to hear, even if there was not a single soul around. “Hey, I meant it when I said you’re beautiful.”

You smiled against his lips, kissing his lower lip before gently taking ahold of it with your teeth and tugging a bit. He made a pleased noise in the back of his throat and moved his hand to rest under your teddy, his rough skin brushing up against the soft curve of your waist. “Tell me how beautiful I am,” you murmured, ducking your head under his chin and pressing an affectionate kiss there, then trailing your lips down his neck and pressing lazy kisses to it as you made your way down to just above where his shirt started coming together.

“God, Y/N,” he almost whispered, his eyes watching your every move as you looked up at him through your lashes, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, button by button. “You’re like a fucking dream to look at, love.”

That brought a sly smile to your lips, and you unbuttoned the last button on his shirt, pushing it open to expose his whole torso. You straddled his hips as you did so, running your hands up his lightly toned, slim chest. His ribs just poked out of his skin, and you pressed a kiss to his collarbone before moving back up to kiss him on the lips again. This time he was more eager, trapping you there with a firm hand resting on the nape of your neck. But you didn’t mind, and you moved your lips in sync with him as he rested his free hand on your hip. He finally pulled away to take a breath, and you took the opportunity to pull your teddy up and over your head, tossing it to the side.

Brian’s pupils dilated even more as he looked over your body, marveling quietly at you. You pushed off his shirt as he ogled, tossing it to the side as well and reaching down to toy with the button on his pants afterwards. His teeth found his lip, and he chewed on it as he tore his eyes away from your body to look back up at you, a smile gracing his lips when you raised an eyebrow at him. “Sorry, distracted,” he mumbled, pulling you back in for a quick kiss before starting to push down your sleep shorts. “You’re too stunning, you have an unfair advantage right now.”

You giggled at that, moving off of him carefully to push off your sleep shorts. Now you were completely naked in front of Brian, your friend, and you didn’t feel at all nervous. It was like he was meant to see you like this, and there were no expectations. His praise was probably fueling most of that, but it was nice to be appreciated like this. “You’re not bad yourself, so I see no advantage,” you teased quietly, kneeling between his legs and undoing the buttons of his trousers as you kept eye contact with him.

Carefully kicking his pants off once you’d unbuttoned them and pulled them down, Brian watched in drunken amazement as you hovered over him for a moment before pressing a kiss to his abdomen. You reached up with one hand to palm him through his boxers, and received a throaty groan in response. His hand brushed back through your hair, and he admired you with a lustful, yet doting look in his eyes.

“Oh, Jesus,” he breathed out as you moved down to brush your lips over the thin layer of fabric that separated you from his cock. His eyelids fluttered closed as you did so, his head falling back against the back of the couch a bit. It took all of his energy to lift his head again and look at you, his lips parted slightly as he took shallow, quick breaths. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Y/N.”

This time, you only grinned mischievously in response to his slurring compliments, moving to the side to pull down his boxers. His cock sprung free from its restraints readily, but Brian didn’t even give you a chance to admire him before he was on top of you again, his lips attaching to your shoulder. Brian pinned you down with his own body, his cock brushing up against your thigh as he reached down to rub your clit hard and slow, eliciting a quiet purr of pleasure from you and making him shiver at the noise.

“So, so beautiful,” he mumbled against your shoulder, trailing love bites along the skin framing it and searching up your neck before stopping at your jaw. “You’re an angel,” he whispered this time, his lips agonizingly close to your ear and making goosebumps rise on your arms as you felt his hot breath against your earlobe.

You moaned lowly as his fingers pushed into you, your cheeks splotchy with redness as you felt an overload of lust and fondness at the same time. Brian was making you feel like a princess, but at the same time, his fingers were working so expertly at your core that you were quickly unraveling in his hands. “Bri,” you murmured, and he pulled back to gaze down at you as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, a cocky smile playing at his lips. You weren’t sure how to phrase it, but a curl of his fingers inside of you and the thought came tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Make love to me?”

Something in his demeanor changed as he slowed down, then pulled his fingers out of you and instead slid them up your sex, slick from how wet he’d made you in such a short time. “Make love to you?” he clarified, not even seeming remotely put off by the idea. You nodded, biting your lip as you studied his face, trying to gauge his reaction. “Of course,” he finally replied, his voice full of tenderness as he slowly rubbed his fingers around your clit in circles and ducked down to engage you in a quick but deep, passionate kiss.

All of your nerve endings felt like they were in flames at this point, every point on your body hypersensitive. You felt his hand leave your core, his hips shifting as he moved to sit back on his heels, grabbing his wallet out of his jeans and retrieving a condom. You watched as he put it on, focused on doing it right, and you found yourself blushing lightly as he met your gaze once he’d rolled it on.

“You sure you want this?” he asked, genuinely wanting to make sure you were being honest as he went to kneel between your legs. You nodded, and he smiled goofily, his drunken eyes holding even more of a smile than his own lips as he leaned up to kiss your forehead. His forehead then resting against yours, he took your hips with one hand and pulled you a bit closer, wrapping his other hand around his length and lining himself up carefully. You watched this happen, then looked up into his eyes, which were unnervingly close to your own. He noticed this and looked up at you, meeting your gaze with an unreadable emotion flitting across his face as he slowly pushed into you, maintaining eye contact.

The pressure of him filling you was almost alien, as it had been a moment since you’d even fooled around with anyone besides Colin, on top of the fact that this was Brian, your close friend, someone you’d never really expected to have on top of you. Your arms wrapped around his torso as you inhaled sharply, your fingers digging into his back when he bottomed out in you, a soft gasp escaping his lips. After a moment, he pulled out halfway and began to thrust slowly, with a purpose. Each roll of his hips was careful, calculated, and oh-so-satisfying as he focused on taking it slow, his nose nuzzled up against your cheek and short, shaky breaths hitting your jaw with each thrust.

“Brian, you feel so good,” you moaned in appreciation, his hips pressing against yours with each thrust. He groaned something incoherent, one hand gripping the top of the couch above your head and supporting his weight as he found your hand with his free one, lacing his fingers into yours and squeezing your hand. That little gesture made your heart soar, and you arched your back slightly to press up against him, your bodies melded together as he pushed himself into you, deep and slow.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re fucking amazing,” he groaned out, gradually speeding up his thrusts as he buried his face in your neck, murmuring praises over and over. One of your hands found his hair, and you tangled your fingers in it as you let your head fall back against the back of the couch, in complete bliss because of Brian’s gentle way with you. When his lips brushed up against your sweet spot, you involuntarily curled up your fingers in his hair and tugged slightly, making him choke out a low groan as his hips stuttered for a moment. He couldn’t be in this position if he wanted to last any longer, so he pulled out of you, to your chagrin, but he quickly laid on his side and turned you on your side as well. You were facing away from him, and you gasped softly in surprise as he lifted your leg up and slowly slid his cock into you again, his lips pressed firmly against your shoulder.

Colin had never taken you like this. In fact, no one had ever taken you like this before, and you were on cloud 9 as he thrusted into you carefully, his hips pressing against your ass with every thrust and making you smile in pure bliss. So it only added to your pleasure when he reached around you to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. This was overload, and you couldn’t mask your excitement as you moaned out his name, which made him grunt in appreciation and let out a few noises of pleasure himself. He cursed under his breath as you rested your hand on his forearm, gripping it tightly to ground yourself as he made waves of ecstasy roll through you.

Brian was just as undone as you were, the feeling of your hand gripping on to him for dear life only sending him closer to the edge as he thrusted into you deeper and faster, his thrusts becoming sloppy and signaling to you that he couldn’t last much longer. “God, you’re perfect,” he breathed out, resting his forehead against your shoulder as his lips remained parted in a silent moan, his trembling breaths hitting your back and making you shiver. When he knew he couldn’t hold out any more, he had to slip his free hand under your head and force your jaw to the side so that you were looking up at him, his head hovering over yours as he buried his cock as deep inside of you as he could go. He smashed his lips against yours, muffling the loud moans tumbling out of him as he came, hitting his climax and shaking a bit as his high ran its course.

You pulled away from the heated kiss as he quieted down a bit, an almost pitiful moan escaping his lips at the loss of contact, but you were too close to the edge to notice much as his fingers continued to rub your clit quickly. He was intent on making you climax now, his fingers working wildly at your core as he pulled out, and you looked up into his eyes, your lips parting as you moaned his name, your climax hitting you all at once and sending you reeling. He watched you unravel beneath him, his name on your lips repeatedly as you rode out your high while keeping eye contact with him, and it was enough of a sight to make him groan lowly, even though he was far from being horny anymore.

As soon as you’d came down from your high, your eyelids fluttered closed and you sighed softly, nuzzling into his hand. “Holy shit, Brian,” you murmured, exhausted from what had just taken place and overwhelmed by how good he’d just made you feel.

“You okay?” he asked, running his thumb along your lower lip, and when you nodded, he smiled softly and climbed over you, ambling his way into the kitchen. He cleaned himself off and disposed of the condom properly, then came back with a rag so you could clean yourself up as he pulled his boxers on again. He handed you his shirt after you’d cleaned yourself up a bit, and you sat up to pull it on, buttoning it almost all the way up. Brian climbed back onto the bed with you, halfway sitting up next to you and watching you quietly.

After you’d gotten yourself at least somewhat covered up with his shirt, you looked over to him and smiled before laying down by his side, curling up against him and wrapping your arm around his torso. He ran his fingers back through your hair, taking a deep breath before resting his hand on your head.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice full of admiration as he watched your eyelids flutter closed again, your breathing slowing down considerably. You reached over and took his hand that was on the opposite side of him, intertwining your fingers together and resting them back on the bed as you hummed softly.

“Good night, drunkard that showed up on my doorstep,” you replied sleepily, Brian laughing and shaking his head as he settled down next to you, pulling a blanket over the both of you before drifting off to a peaceful, deep sleep.

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