#(bcs I’m faced with an unpleasant reality)

[techycatartist]

Oh.

That’s RMC’s all-steel 208 “RetraK” track.

That’s RMC’s all-steel 208 “RetraK” track on T Express, an Intamin Prefabricated roller coaster— the same model as El Toro.

[slayfics]

HEY since u said it was alright to request, I've been thinking about something for a While and i rlly like angst but i dont know if u rlly write that, I've only seen a bit in the muichiros mansion chapters, but i can rarely find the type of mui angst i want but basically its something like mui leaving us or something like that, IDK JS HEARTBREAKING ANGST IG😰😰 bc i love the pain and suffering once i see angst of a character leaving🫶🫶

HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT<333 TYSM

Muichiro breaks up with you.

You felt all the tension you had been caring for day finally release at receiving a crow from Muichiro. Ever since you heard of the upper demons attacking Swordsmith Village where Muichiro was you had not got a minute of sleep.

Finally not only was he safe, but healed as well. You had missed him dearly when he was gone and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you read his letter.

His letter indicated he wanted to talk to you as soon as possible about something extremely important. You made your way over to the usual spot you and Muichiro spent time together. A comfortable spot under a shady tree by the lake.

It filled your heart with joy just knowing you’d be in his company soon. You wanted nothing more than to let him know how dear he really was to you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know how dangerous being a demon slayer was before, but when hearing he was up against an upper demon reality harshly set in. Any day it was possible that the two of you would be spending your last moments together.

You were beginning to get lost in thought when Muichiro arrived and sat down next you.

“Tokito!” You exclaimed and tightly embraced the Hashira.

“Hello…” he said, remaining still and not returning your affections in any way. This made your heart sink. Was something wrong?

“I’m sorry, I suppose I should have asked how you were healing first,” you said carefully letting go of the Hashira.

“Oh my body is healed… but I’m not quite myself yet,” he said, cryptically.

“Is everything ok? What happened in the village?” You asked hastily, concern overflowing from you.

“Well it appears I’ve recovered all my memories,” Muichiro said gently placing a hand on his head.

“Tokito, that’s wonderful!” You exclaimed with a big grin. However, the Hashira demeanor remained unpleasant.

“Yes and no…” he said, zoning off. You stayed silent hoping for him to elaborate. “The memories I recovered weren’t pleasant ones…”

You searched for comforting words but nothing came to mind other than, “Tokito, I’m so sorry.”

“No you see I am here to apologize,” he said, turning to face you. “What I uncovered has been more than I can process… you see it is a burden all on its own and… I don’t think I can effectively maintain our relationship while I go through this.” He said, watching you carefully.

You felt as though time had stopped. You searched his eyes hoping to see some indication that this was a joke. However, the Hashira’s eyes were as stern as ever. You tried to speak but it felt as though the air had been ripped out of your lungs.

“T-Tokito- I can help,” you muttered, pitifully as tears formed in your eyes.

“I appreciate your concern but you see… this is something I wish to go through on my own.” He said, gently grabbing your hand. “Please do not be sad, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’re a magnificent person. I hope you understand.”

You searched for words but nothing came. What were you supposed to say? If he wanted to be alone then that was the end of the conversation, wasn’t it? You looked down at his hand holding yours and hot anger flashed through you. How dare he touch you while he’s ripping your heart in two. You forcefully pulled your hand back.

Muichiro winced in response. He knew you’d be hurt but seeing it now was too much to handle. He had enough trauma to process and he was already overflowing with pain.

“I respect your decision, but I don’t understand.” You finally spat your anger getting the best of you. “You have a lot to process, that’s fair, but I could have supported you through that. Nothing is easier alone, Tokito.”

“Everyone processes things differently,” he said pleadingly, hoping to help you understand. “Maybe one day when I’m better we can try again.”

Your anger was a burning rage now ready to fully unleash. Did he really think he could hurt you and expect you to forgive him so easily when he was ready to start again?

“You can’t rip my feelings to shreds and just expect me to wait around for you, Tokito. Things don’t always work on your terms.” You said with venom in your voice.

Muichiro took a deep breath, tears now lining his own eyes. “Yes, you’re right. I don’t expect you to wait around. You deserve to be happy and if you find someone else before I’m ready… well, I wish you the best.”

“I wish I could say the same to you,” you said again, even more nasty than the last time.

Your statement seemed to be the last blow Muichiro could take as the tears dropped freely from his eyes. He turned around not wanting to face you anymore. He tried to muster up what he could to say goodbye but the lump in his throat was too much, so he parted his way silently leaving you alone.

Now alone your anger melted into despair as sobs that sounded too strong to be your own escaped you. All this time you were excited to see Muichiro, but you never expected this outcome.

You walked home as sobs still escaped you from time to time. Finally approaching your house you froze in shock at the sight you were met with.

Your estate was covered in origami cranes of varying sizes and shapes. You blinked and rubbed your eyes believing you were imagining them. However, the cranes remained and the longer you looked the more you seemed to see.

You walked up to the door where a letter was hanging that read:

Till we meet again.

-Tokito

You grabbed the letter and held it to your chest tears streaming once more. I hope you didn’t take me seriously Muichiro you thought to yourself. Of course, I’d wait for you, I’d wait lifetimes for you. Please once you’re ready run back to me.

Thank you for the very angsty request! I hope I did it justice and you enjoy~

Tags~

@aeolia18 @yandere-kou @sakurasunkiss @hashiroses @plvuii @snowmist-hashira

[reawritesthings]

rev my heart | tom holland smut

summary: harrison made it clear that his greasers were off limits but he never mention tom being in that equation.

word count: 16.1K

pairing: greaser!tom x osterfield!reader

warnings: 18+!! please don’t interact/read if you are a minor. female and male receiving. fingering, blow job, eating out, car sex, dirty talk and riding. swearing. plus, typos

a/n: here it is guys. like u to meet greaser!tom. i’m lowkey scared to publish this bc i’m a new holland blog and this is my first piece of fiction that has over 15K words. when writing this i was listening to a lot of bon jovi! i mostly listen to sercet love song by little mix. um, what else?? tom’s character is fictional, and based on two characters from the outsiders; pony boy and dally. plus this is like my first advance smut piece so yeh!!!

The early morning light belaboured the simple earthy hued cover, fluttering the pages in the book with it’s breeze whilst you made the morning brew. The radiances of the sunrise outed the outline of the diner, creating a peaceful place where folks old and young could spend an hour or two being oblivious to their struggles. You saw many compainers, rich men running from their debts. Poor men using every ounce of their change for a fresh brew of coffee to start another day of misfortune.

Tom licked his lips, savouring your beauty into his mind. He cracked a smile, swirling around in his chair, seeking an answer. He crashed his palms onto the counter, before smuggling a small laugh off his lips. “As many times as you like, princess.”

Rolling your eyes at his flirtatious tactics, trying hard to not show the excitement he controlled with a simple wink or syllable. You dispense his longing need with a quick access to glance at your cleavage, knowing full well of his desires. “This is the last time, Tommy.”

Rolling your eyes at his flirtatious tactics, trying hard to not show the excitement he controlled with a simple wink or syllable. You dispense his longing need with a quick access to glance at your cleavage, knowing full well of his desires. “This is the last time, Tommy.”

“You say that every morning for a year, doll. And, everytime we have the same conversation. Starting to wander if that dream of yours is turning into a reality. You remember, darling?”

You sneered at him, sticking your tongue out. “I was a little girl, Tommy.”

“Doll, it was a year ago.”

You rested your elbows on the counter, cupping your cheeks as you trailed your eyes to meet his whiskey driven pupils. “And like ya said, it was a dream.”

He hoisted himself up a little, trusting the countertop to balance his frame as he came closer to you. He gently placed his finger under your chin, lifting it up slowly to meet his gaze. “If only, darling. If only…”

You let the lump in your throat devour, as Tom brushed his other finger across your lips. You didn’t break your contact, but freely allowed Tom to dominate your body. You responded well to his touches, allowing him to explore your features that got men crawling but sent them away with one word you haven’t used on him yet.

“Where’s ya crew?” You questioned, breaking the humidity that circulated the two of you. Tom licked his lips, removing his fingers from your touch. He suddenly created an unpleasant earl of shivers that ran through your body. You exhaled a light sigh, which Tom immediately noticed and hid his smirk with the rim of his cup.

“On their way. Why? Ya getting tired of me?”

“Never. Don’t they ever ask you why you come to the diner early?”

Tom shook his head, “You concerned about me, princess?”

“Nope but, i'm sure you don’t want that pretty little face to get ruined.” You grinned, resting your waist on the shelf admiring his tight fitted top that shaped his abs perfectly.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

He shook his head, taking another sip but pacing himself this time around. “That’s not my question.” He waited with an air of expectancy, toying with his buckled ring. “I said, Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Why are you so adamant to know if i find you pretty?”

“Relax. I’m just teasing, princess. We all know the answer.”

“Does your ego really need to be bigger than it is?”

Tom chuckled, dishing out a 50 pound note. “It’s the only thing I have left, sweetheart.”

You saw the bill string out of his pocket , slowly caressing the worth in his grip. “I don’t need the charity, Tom.”

Tom ignored your comment, carelessly placing the bill into the jar. “Spend it wisely, doll.”

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

Following the eccentric encounter you had with Tom, you were still busting around the diner trying to unhinge the urgency of his touch. You hated being flustered by men, especially men who roamed with your brother. Harrison warned you from the start to never get mixed up with his crew under any circumstances. He did everything in his power to make you tough, vigilant and have perfect aim which prevents you from getting help from his crew.

Tom, however, was an expectation to Harrison due to being best friends since diaper days. They were inseparable, and it didn’t take long for the three of you to be friends. Harrison never really picked up on Tom’s flirting, he just saw it as Tom warning people that you were off limits.

Your friend, Betty always kept you intact when Tom came to visit as she was the only other one who you trusted, also being Harrison’s girlfriend. Betty would lie and tell you that she really is looking out for you but being her friend for almost 10 years you knew she had to for her boyfriend's sanity.

“You doing okay, babe?” Betty asked, resting her chin on your shoulder. You hummed, concentrating on the toasted sandwich to transform into a soft golden brown hue. The aroma would make its way through the diner, announcing that breakfast was over and that lunch was being prepped. The warm chatter along with the warm bread blended together to create a friendly atmosphere for the customers; which made cold winters feel warmer.

The raucous gale that opened the diner door invited a soft siren, strong enough to make the customers pause their conversations to embark their curiosity. Yourself and Betty watched as the greasers swayed their boots into the diner, rummaging through the blocks of chairs before situated themselves into their claimed booth, parallel to the door but close to the bathroom.

“Do they always need to make an entrance like that? They do realise that it gets old after a while.” You whispered into her ear, causing a laugh to leave her lips.

“Let them have their fun. You gonna serve them?”

“It’s your boyfriend’s crew, you do it.” You argued, turning your frame back towards the kitchen. You heard the irritated sigh come off of Betty’s tongue, and you winked at Mr Delmair because you secured yourself immunity once again. Once Betty made her way over, she was immediately engulfed in a tight hug from your brother which irritatingly turned into a make out session.

Cursed to keep looking, your eyes locked with Tom’s, the soft expressions of his earthy pupils made you drown in warmth. Tom held the gaze, smirking at the motion of where your hand was situated. He seductively licked his lips, eyeing the ponytail that allowed your beauty to roar.

Tom excused himself, walking his way towards your presence. “I guess I won that staring contest.”

You snort, tilting your head to the side so you can admire his features. After a few seconds, you knew he caught on, so you handed him a fresh batch of coffee to avoid conversation.

“You know me so damn well, doll.”

You again rolled your eyes, something you frequently did when Tom was around you. “It’s just a cup of coffee, Tommy.”

“It always starts with a cup of coffee.” Tom grinned, taking the pot from the counter. He made a strange turn to the left, allowing your gaze to meet his shiny black jacket. He saluted with his two fingers and went back to the booth, acting as nothing happened.

A sudden familiar touch startled you. Betty gave you an apologetic look, gripping your shoulders to calm the nerves. “You good their babe?”

You quickly nodded, straightening your dress to hide the sweat from your hands.

“Is anything going on between the two of you?”

“Who? Tom? No way..” You stammered, giving Betty a convincing smile but, her expression didn’t follow.

“The fact you said his name means I’m somewhat right.”

You scoffed, walking away from the conversation you didn’t want or need to have. You rested your hands on the thick paged book, hoping this could be a way to avoid this particular conversation with anyone, not just Betty.

“I just want to be careful. Tom is a complicated fella. I don't want you getting dragged into his mess".

You tried flicking through the pages, but the tone of Betty’s concern ravelled something inside you. Out of frustration, you slammed the book shut, gaining the attention of the greasers, including Tom and your brother.

“I'm careful. I wish you and my brother would trust me. It’s just the same old crap, I don’t like Tom and he doesn't like me. We are friends, now drop it.”

Betty nodded, chipping away the scarlet red nail polish to stable her frustration. “I’m sorry... I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I already have Harrison, I don’t need my best friend to become my guardian too.” You snapped, which again caught the eye of Tom who was ready to examine the situation. However, this time around you didn’t meet his gaze, but you knew his eyes were on you.

“I just want you to be my friend.” You whisper, fiddling with the loose hem on your apron. “As much as I like you being Harrison’s girlfriend, I just miss you being my friend…”

Betty frowned, pulling you into a tight embrace. She began to flood your hair with several apologies. “If you want, you can take off? I’ve got things covered here.”

You nodded, releasing yourself from her embrace. “Thanks, Betts. I’m sorry about before.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll see you tonight!”

You smiled, handing her your apron. You quickly snatched a freshly baked croissant and headed out.

“What happened?” You snigger at Tom’s perfect timing, you gyrate your body, letting the thrills on the dress expose your skin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He prided towards you, plucking the croissant out of your hand. He masticates half of the croissant, tugging on the remains.

“Such a pig.” You laugh, pulling the baked goods from his mouth.

“Aren’t ya gonna tell me? I thought we were besties.” He gleefully smirks, and watches you take a jot of the baked good.

“Please don’t ever say that word again.” You cringe at his remark, but he just continued saying it.

You grumbled a fine and Tom stopped his irritating act.

“She asked if there was anything going on between us.”

Tom smirked, tilting his head. “Is there?”

“Well…” You paused for a long time. You can see the tense look in Tom's eyes, as he watches you bite into the croissant. “Not my type, bestie.”

“I call bullshit.” He yelled and with that response, you twirled around and ignored the calls from his mouth.

“See you later, pretty boy.”

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

When the white passage of daylight had gone, and the shadows of the eventide had sprung. The dry soil that embedded your house was radiated with oleaginous muscular greasers known as the Kingstons. Each member was just as bad as another. Some only joined to be protected and others joined so they could get chicks. Each boy got along, worshiped your brother and Tom like they were royalty which made things for you a little harder.

Unfortunately, being the only person to still be in school you always missed out on cookouts and parties. You watched your yard being lit, and the flames rising boldly against the black sky. The red, orange and yellow ball of rage roared upwards eating its way through the wooden base. Plumes of grey were buffeted into your bedroom, which began an unpleasant growl to your stomach.

Once you heard the splatter of the burgers being compressed onto the silvered grill, your ravenous appetite receded on finishing your english paper. You sprawled down the stairs, landing straight into Tom who cowped his drink onto your jumper.

“Fuckin hell, Tom.” You chastised at his clumsiness.

“It was an accident.” He assured, sending you a light smirk. “If you weren’t such in a hurry then none of this would have happened, princess.”

You groused at his cocky reply, pushing past him to retrieve some napkins. “Wait. Just um, wear my jacket.” Tom theorized as both of you stood there awkwardly. Tom awaited for you, but happened to grow a cheeky grin when he saw a glimpse of your bra.

“Um, y/n..” Tom paused, only allowing you to roll your eyes.

“Tom, seriously just for a second be quiet.” Tom threw his hands in the air, not even bothering to warn you.

“Suit-” “Nice boobs, y/n.” One of the Greasers interrupted as he fetched another bottle of beer.

“Wait, wha-- TOM! Why didn’t you say anything?” You whined, snatching the jacket off him.

You quickly wrapped yourself up, and gave Tom a dirty glare. “You told me to be quiet.”

“I-never mind.” You exhale, twisting your body round to get a beer. Tom lifts an eyebrow, watching you take apart the lid with your teeth.

“Should you even be drinking?”

“Should you even be here?”

Tom was perplexed by your answer, and vanished before you could get another word out. Being an Osterfield meant your mind was astute when getting what they wanted. You peeped your head though the window and snatched a couple of beers, heading straight to your bedroom offering sweet, innocent smiles.

“Night boys.” You simpered, looking pleased with yourself.

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

You were laying on your stomach, flicking through the textbooks that were neatly scattered on your bed when you heard the laughs from downstairs. You spent the whole night trying to not think about Tom or his witless remarks. You let your eyes close for a brief second, enjoying the notebook as a head rest.

You heard his voice from the end of the corridor, laughing at something that probably wasn’t even funny. You tried to ignore the chattering, especially the false laugh that rolled off one of the girl’s lips. Your mind fell back to the books, but a sudden knock startled you.

“I’m busy.” You implied, but another knock appeared straight after.

“Off limits.” You hiss, but the creak of the door allowing the light to invade your room didn’t listen. The room suddenly smells of grease and a strong scent of the Liz Claiborne curve for men. You didn’t even need to turn your head to see who was accompanied by the door, you knew that smell very well.

“What part of I’m busy and off limits, don’t you get Holland?”

Tom took that as an invitation, closing your door straight after. He waltzes himself into your room, with a plate of four burgers. “Are you going to accept the two burgers I managed to get you or going to be a little brat?”

“Bacon?”

“Extra bacon” He corrected, and tapped your thigh to make some space for him.

You flashed him a big grin, and kicked your legs in excitement as he handed you a burger. “God, this is delicious.” You moaned, wiping the ketchup stain on your lips.

“If that got you moaning, pleasuring you would be a simple task.” He sniggered, taking a full bite of his burger, winking at your reaction.

“You think about pleasuring me, holland? Is that even allowed, hmm?” You smirked, taking a long bite following a nice loud moan.

Tom tried to ignore the sounds, shifting a little in his maximum space to not show defeat. He wasn’t going to let a 19 year old power over him, he forbade it.

“Not so cocky now, are ya?” You teased, propping up your body and slumping next to his.

“I hate you.” Tom mumbled, snatching the beer from the night stand and drank the remains of it.

After you both teasingly ate your burgers, you instantly got back work. Pulling your books over your exposed legs allowing Tom to fiddle with your camera, you began to study. However, every few minutes loud huffs would break out and Tom would try and see if he could help you.

“Do you need help?” Tom asked, and manoved the book onto his lap. He scanned over the pages, and hummed peacefully whenever he understood something which made you quite irritated.

“How can you possibly understand that?” You groaned, crossing your arms with a pout of embarrassment.

“It’s easy. You’ve read the book right?”

You nodded, “I have. But, I still don’t get why we have to over analyse over a stupid farm? We get it, Lennie wants to tend the rabbit.”

“That’s not the point. You need to go more deeper into why Lennie wants the farm? Why is the farm his happy place? Lennie is such a complex character that nobody understands because of his weight. You need to go deeper.”

At first, you thought he was humouring you about knowing so many about Of Mice and Men. But, when he went onto a full analysis on Curley's wife you got the sense that Tom actually was an intellectual in other things than women.

“Firstly, that was really hot. Secondly, do my paper.”

“Thanks and no. You do your own paper, and I’ll check it.” He said, voice more than a little stern “How about I give you a short massage to ease the brain? Would that help you, doll?”

You hum in approval, grinning stupidly at the bargain you just got offered. Tom prompted you to get between his legs, and made sure that your hands stayed on either thigh. He propped himself up, and tried to sense the tension in your neck.

“Keep the moaning to a minimum. I don’t want people thinking we are doing it. Can you be quiet, doll?”

His breath lingered on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on your skin to stand up in desperation for his touch. You cleared your thought, wanting to not give Tom the satisfaction that a simple touch, or breath could embark your need for him.

“You ready?” He whispered into your ear, and you obeyed with a nod.

“Good girl.”

When you felt Tom’s touch it was exceedingly gentle at first, his long fingers tracing lightly over your skin. Your bedroom was quiet, and the noise coming from outside was soon blocked out. You inhaled deeply, and found a nice happy place to go to get your body distracted. Tom’s palms pressed lightly in circles over your shoulder, slowly elevating downwards to your bra line.

“Can I take it off?” He whispered, and you nodded. He unbuckled the bra, watching the waistband loosen your breasts. Tom coughed in panic as he saw your boobs rest on your skin, and watched how your body felt free. Tom repeated the same pattern, a few times as your moans and groan would pick up whenever he touched your lower back. Every area he tried to loosen the tension you gave a soft, quiet moan which was music to Tom’s ears.

The physical sensations of him was enough for anyone to not see the anticipation of both of you longing for each other. You were lying that you felt closer to Tom, something so intimate could really mould a friendship into something complicated. The silence in the room made the offer more personal that Tom can almost see the emotions that would fall from your face. However, what made your heart swoon was the care that Tom had to make you feel better, it was something so cheeky but gentlemen like to do.

Tom’s hand paused when his hand resigned in the same spot as he started, he leaned down and kissed the back of your neck, stating that he was done. It was a simple, harmless touch but you automatically spinned around and kissed him, in thanks and appreciation.

Tom didn’t protest or move, he simply allowed you to show thanks. You slowly pressed Tom back against the pillow, situating your body on his lap, and placed another kiss on Tom’s jaw. Tom allowed his hands to work on your shoulders, pressing his thumbs into the knots below your neck that caused a moan to escape from your lips. Tom gasped, tensing a little as you began to nibble on his neck, making his hand fly onto the lower part of your back.

The kiss deepend and his hands wandered, towards your breasts that fit so well with his hand. You hissed at the coldness of his rings but Tom’s slow movements and the trust your body had allowed Tom’s glacial rings to satisfy your needs. You buckled your hips, and Tom groaned in pleasure but slowly pulled his lips away from yours.

His hands were still cupped on your breasts, but slowly left and were now placed on your waist. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“You started it.” You nagged, climbing off his lap.

“I know and I shouldn't have.” Tom listlessly said, picking himself up from your bed. You knew that it was wrong and wasn’t really in the mood to start this conversation. You watched him retrieve his jacket, and wore it with pride. You glared at your surname that was printed at the back centre of the black leather jacket.

“Once done, give it to me at the diner tomorrow.” He whispered, and closed the door before you could even respond. Suddenly, the light that entered by itself left as soon as he did. Your room now was lingered with drunken laughs, and cigar smells. You closed your window, and flopped on your bed screaming into your pillow to relieve the tension.

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

When the school bell rang, the end of english was over. Mrs Dunphany handed everyone back their papers. You weren’t going to hype yourself too much as Tom notes and tip went out the window. When you saw the disappointment on Mrs Dunphany's face after she handed the kid’s test before you, you knew that you fucked up.

However, you got a kind smile and a pat on the back. “100%. Well done, Miss Osterfield.”

“Wait seriously? That little shit’s advice actually was useful.” You whispered to yourself, as you made your way out of the school. “Clever son of a bitch.”

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

“So what did you get?” Tom’s neediness was getting rather annoying as you refused to embark on his ego even more.

“I passed.” You simply stated, trying to write down an elderly order.

“Okay. But what score did you get? I deserve to know.” He bragged, tugging on your apron to try and get you to pay attention to him.

“100%” You hissed at him which in response, he twirled you again praising you.

“God. I’m so clever.” He teased, placing you down on the floor.

“Yeah, next time you wanna get horny for Lennie, I’ll give him a call.” You smirked after apologising to the edlerly couple.

“No worries, dear. It’s sweet that your boyfriend cares so much, reminds me of my dear Hank.” The old woman chattered, causing a slight blush on your cheek.

Thankfully Tom already left just in time as you knew deep down that Tom would never see you as anyone but his best friend’s little sister. So, to play out your fantasy, you thanked the couple and gave them a faction of fabricated lies to fill the slight hole you felt burning in your heart.

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

As the warm ambiance swept facilely through your hair, you fumbled your jumper with chagrin. You propel your body forward, regretting every step you took to get to the till. Luckily, it was night and no one was around to deem you or humiliate you with the lecture of purchasing the item.

“May I get the--” You were cut off but a stack of snacks slammed on the counter.

“How much will this be?” He questioned, not even acknowledging you. You huff and glance at the hand. It was remotely familiar, and you squint your eyes shut hoping he wouldn’t look your way. “And whatever the lady wants.”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head at the lady. She furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding the signal you were trying to give her.

“It’s fine, Tom. I can get it myself.” You hissed, but he didn’t budge.

“What did you want?”

“Birth control pills…” you whispered but Tom nudges you to speak up.

“Birth control pills.” You yelled, dropping your head onto his shoulder with embarrassment.

Tom let out a strong exhale, nodding to the lady to fetch the pills.

“You having sex?”

“What is it to you?” You snorted, watching his smirk grow.

“Make sure he respects ya, yeh?” Tom clarified, paying the lady in full. “I’ll see you, princess.”

You smiled back at the lady, walking away with Tom. “Where are you going?”

“Someone’s gotta work. Can’t have a pretty girl going hungry right?”

You shrugged, “I guess. I-I thanks for the pill.”

“Guessing you don’t want me to tell your brother?”

You nodded, “Please.”

“Our little secret.” He winked, and left you there alone in a store again, with no clarification of the night you both shared.

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

The affluent streets were scattered with expensive mustangs and white picket fences. Tom observes the roads from the sooty, bygone windows trying to pick out what he would have if was just as rich. He appreciated his life, the freedom he managed to bargain with his parents that soon enough had no acknowledgement of their kid as they spent most of their time arguing. His smile once faded when he started to see the familiar streets that he shamefully called home. It was polar opposites to the valley, but Tom always argued with himself that his end had more history and heroic stories. The valley was changing everyday, new plants would be replaced as if nothing happened would confuse him as, to him the valley became more artificial every time he would pass it.

Once the bus pulls to his stop, Tom breaks into a run, dashing into the alley behind the stores to avoid any confrontation. It was past midnight, and Tom didn’t have his crew around. He lightly ran his hand down the bricks, electrifying his veins to carry more strength as being out in the open was always a call for trouble.

As Tom went to turn the corner, his phone vibrated. Out of curiosity, he checked his phone as no one usually texted him this late at night. When he unlocked his phone, he was startled that out of anyone, you would be the one to text him.

you: get home safe, pls.

Tom grinned, locking his phone. “And she said she didn’t like me…” He whispered, throwing his phone back into his pocket. Tom maneuvered himself away from the bright lights that dazzled his frame, highlightly the grease in his raven hair. He couldn’t tell who the car belonged to but with the knowledge and partial interest with cars, he knew it didn’t belong to the Kingston Jets.

The London Sharks was what they were referred to. A preppy figure looking type that always had tight vests and wore italian golf shoes. Tom, minding his business letting his fixation focus on getting home in one piece. He wasn’t remotely in the mood to scoorn off the Sharks due to his lack of concentration. Tom was mindmapping a simpler method, one that didn’t involve violence or crime just his devilish charm.

“Hey pretty boy. You're not gonna say hello?” One of the boys screamed out, honking frequently to advocate Tom’s dark side. Tom's vexed face tightened as more words were hurled at him, ones he had all heard before. His adrenaline was picking up the speed and his knuckles were prepared to take charge but Tom, revoked hiding his fists in his jacket.

“Tell Y/N she is pretty hot for a greaser.” The eloquent tone in Charlie’s voice snapped the rage that was ready to erupt inside Tom’s chest. Tom swiftly turned around, adjusting his leather jacket, placing it at a jaunty angle to allow his arms to move freely.

He raced towards the sharks, passively throwing punches all around to anyone who got in his way. He collided his fists with Charlie’s jaw, not letting him have any mercy. Tom’s anger furied around his face, tiny veins peeped out of their hiding to alert the others that it’s war. Before Tom could collide his fist to Charlie’s nose, a strong pair of arms tightly swarmed around his waist pulling him away. Charlie’s crew had Tom surrounded, gritting his hands stills so Charlie could throw his punches at Tom. The punches to Tom felt weak but the rings that loosely dangled on their fingers were the main force of the sharks being tough.

Just as Charlie was going to finish Tom off, a police car came screeching down the hill, a knight in his white charger, black tired squealing on the grey turmac as the car abruptly stopped at the sight of the fight.

Tom knew that the police weren’t his friendly companion as Tom himself had a fair share of crimes that could convey to jail time. Luckily, the sharks belted away before the officer could get a closer look on them. Tom clenched onto his stomach, squinting his eyes as the illuminated lights blinded his vision.

“What’s going on there, son? you causing trouble?”

Tom shook his head, conveying his injured state to get him off the hook. The officer shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what to say. “Don’t get too much blood on the streets.”

“Love you too.” Tom winced, as he now had to use the bricks to support his weight. Tom knew that he couldn’t possibly go home to his parents, due to the lack of hospitality, so Tom had no choice to pay a visit to the Osterfield.

The cold wind makes the cuts feel raw and the moonlight has them grow bright. He felt like a billboard advertising the cons of being a working class citizen. The comfort of his jacket and the warmth of the street light made his self worth still have pride. Approaching the Osterfield household, his eyes met a light from the inside. A sihollute quickly invaded the light, giving Tom a sense of relief that Harrison was awake. Tom clutched onto the barbed wire, using his remaining strength to work his way up on the roof. He was quite familiar with the rookie holes and loose nails as this wasn’t the first time he had climbed through Harrison’s window.

He clamped his hand against the wall, using his other to lift the chipped white paint window to give him access to the carpet his feet suddenly craved. Tom busted himself in, falling directly face first on the carpet. The sihollute he saw in the window was indescribably more feminie but it could just be his vision. Tom peeked his eyes open again, scanning the room to find bunches of vinyls, romantic comedies books and a red silky bra trashed under the bed.

Tom cursed, knowing exactly what room he was in. He lifted up his head to spot yourself lounging in just your underwear. The black pattern set with tiny red roses made his bruises hurl with pain and let out a grunt. You were still unaware of his presence which gave Tom a little reward to enjoy the view before he got caught.

As you were about to lean forward letting your boobs fall, Tom coughed not wanting to push his limit.

“Hey doll.” Tom teased, chuckling right after as he watched you trip over a hairbrush.

You stand there like a deer in headlights. Nothing seemed to function. You were at a loss for words as Tom’s shadow invaded your area, still unaware of his cuts and bruises.

“Sprout?”

Sprout, he hasn’t called you that in years. You scrambled for a blanket, covering your body.

“What are you doing here, perv.”

Tom dragged his body towards the light, allowing you to see his vulnerable side. You gasp at the cuts and bruises. You scoffed the blanket away, accepting that Tom has seen you and used your motherly instincts to help him.

“Who did this to ya, Tommy?”

Tom grumbled, placing his head between your chest. You gently brushed your fingers through his hair, humming a sweet tune to calm his state. He tightly caressed your waist, wanting you to know that he was grateful for you.

“We gotta clean ya up.” You whispered, rubbing his back slowly to allow his body to know that it was going to get treated. Tom nodded, letting go of your waist and removing his head from your chest. He looked up at you, his eye beginning to swell but he used his finger to trace the tear that melted into your cheek.

“Why are you crying, sprout? I’m the one who got battered.”

You were afraid to make eye contact with him. You were just getting used to Harrison's bruised up face but, something about Tom’s makes your heart sink and blood boil.

“Tommy, what happened?”

“Nothing important.” Tom mumbled, sitting beside you. He laced his hands with yours, as he brushed his thumb against your knuckles. “Patch me up?”

You sniffled as you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You let go of his touch, bending yourself to the floor to retrieve the first aid kit. Tom smirked, as he watched how obedient you were.

“You're gonna have to take your shirt off.”

Tom lifted his head a little to meet your eyes, “You gotta take it off for me.”

You signed, getting up from the floor and slowly climbing onto him. “Don’t even say a word, Thomas.”

Tom smirked, closing his eyes as you began to cut his top apart. His body was built nicely, a visible V-line was the first thing your eyes ran too. The silence in your room, synced with the tension you both shared at the diner. You made yourself comfy, sitting beside him.

Out of habit, he lightly gripped your thigh, excusing the pain he felt as you began to clean his cuts.

“You boys seriously need to stop looking for fights, it’s bad enough Harrison gets into them but you Tom? I don’t like seeing your pretty face busted.”

He looked at you with a sombre expression. His face began to tense, the stinging liquid of ‘i told you so’s’ were burning through his skin. “So you do think i’m pretty, hm?”

“Don’t push it, Tommy.” You hissed, as you amended his cuts. Each bud stained more than the last, you could sense his guilt but his witt was still there.

“You know you are the only one who is allowed to call me that..”

“Your other dames don’t call ya Tommy?”

Tom bit his lip, at the sound of disbelief you gave him when it came to women. Tom knew he was known to have dames full at his feet but, hearing you saying the claim made him irritated.

“Eh, they hardly stick around.” Tom answered, grinning as he saw the smile leave your lips.

When you gave him the all clear that he was patched up, Tom levitated his body up and his hands found their way to your lower back.

“Thanks, doll.”

You shrugged, “Anytime.”

“Can I sleep here? I’ll behave.” Tom promised, tracing his fingers up and down your back. The urge you had to kiss him was there and you knew he felt it too. It was pretty clear when you chose to not cover yourself and allowed Tom to see you in this state.

“You can. I’m gonna put on a shirt.” You said, removing your scent and body off Tom. He whined at the coldness you left him, letting his tired frame sink back into your sheets. He got himself comfy, and discreetly watched you put a white t-shirt on.

“No shorts?” He teased, opening the covers for you. You happily applied your body into the sheets, they weren’t as warm as you hoped but you were thankful.

You stretched your arm to close the light, and a sudden arm securely pulled you away from the lamp. You chuckled at his neediness, letting him feel dominant as his pride was taken away for a good half an hour. You felt your body being pushed closer to his, which you didn’t mind one bit. You allowed him to rest his nose on your back, hearing soft snores escape his lips.

“Night, Tommy.” You whispered and felt yourself going into a deep slumber.

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

As the week passes, you haven’t seen or heard from Tom. His presence started to feel unfamiliar and cold that made you quarrel with every man that tried to hit on you. You stupidly, at the start of every shift, made sure that a fresh batch of coffee was waiting for him but, when you saw the milkshake shaped clock hit 6:10am, you knew Tom wasn’t going to come.

You always return your thoughts back to the night where you both tangled your legs together, and felt safe in each other’s arms. It also felt as though you almost imagined it, but when you found his silver ring with an anchor attached to the centre, you knew that it wasn’t a dream but an unexplainable reality.

You never allowed his touch to leave your body, nor the coldness of his ring draping around your stomach when the sun rose. Each waking morning, you oddly still felt his arms wrapped around your frame whispering how much he appreciates you for looking after him.

Betty swore that she saw Tom in the diner once but he never stopped to say hi. Harrison, also started to feel a bit iffy about Tom’s disappearances and blamed it on him being quiet as his recorded wasn’t looking great.

You forced your legs to work, telling Betty that you would much prefer to work the night shift so you can enjoy the sweet silence that you devoured whenever your parents would fight and most importantly not see Tom. Betty, at first, didn’t like you working alone at night afraid of who could come by but you told her that one of Harrison’s friends would be present.

You were now, gazing at your bright friends of the moon that watched over you whilst Ben got trapped into reading, Gone with the Wind. The pattern of the night sky was so fixed but still, glowing with confidence as their pride invaded the diner.

Suddenly, the inky black sky was provoked with a blaze of brilliant blue, moving quickly through the sky painting a perfect picture to capture. The comet came so sudden, almost considenantly to evoke some hope into your dismal days. As the long tail of icy particles parted, you made a wish. A vaguely simple wish that only the gods would grant if you caught them on a good day. You closed your eyes to complete the wish to only be cut off by a cacophony ring.

“Delmar's Diner?” You irritatedly said, twirling the plastic line around your fingers.

“He’s what?” You screeched. “I’ll be right there.”

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

When you truculently shoved the police station door open, you didn’t strain yourself from communicating with Tom. The repressing force that Tom tried to convey on you didn’t work but made you more exasperated. You heard his excuses for the remaining of the walk, blocking out each call and apology.

“Sprout. Just fucking listen to me.” He roared, knocking the trashcan down to release his anger.

It startled you, but you refused to turn around.

“I’m sorry, please.” His voice dampened when he stared at your jittery state.

“Don’t just walk away from me. I’m trying to apologise here.” He wailed, trying to catch up with you.

You terminated your walk, spinning on your heel to face him. He was there, present in your life for the first time in a week. You shoved your hands inside your apron, shrugging at his pitiful apologises.

“Do you even know why you are saying sorry?” You said, as he moved forward.

His lips quirked disbelievingly. “Hear me out?”

You beckoned a nod, titling your head to hear the tacky cheap tale he was about to fabricate. “Got a minute, Tommy.”

Firstly, he smiled at the nickname. To him, it was a road to redemption. He then ran towards you plunging you into a hug. His tight muscles wrapped around your waist like he did that night, his breathing hitched onto your neck creating the same feeling you felt that night. You were reliving that same night but this time, you both were clothed. As you felt his grip tighten around you, you knew that one more breath or stroke would make you instantly forgive him, so out of remorse you pushed him off.

“You gotta do a lot more than that, Tommy boy.” You snarled, watching him fan out his jacket.

“Look, I know this doesn’t look good. And, I’ll pay you back. I promise, but I just need you to not tell Haz. I can’t have him worrying about me, alright.” Tom pleaded, as he fooled around with a rock.

“You serious Tommy? You think that’s why I’m mad at ya? Because of your fucking devotion to my brother?”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows, playing along with the lie as he knew the apology you wanted. He was just afraid to express it, infact, he didn’t know how.

“What do you want from me, Sprout?”

“To be a man.” You yelled, maneuvering your body so he could watch you disappear into the night.

“Let me at least take you home? I won’t forgive myself if i let you wander the streets at night.” He yelled, jogging right up to you.

You longingly smirked at him, “Keep this up and ya get back in my good books.”

“You are enjoying this aren’t you, Sprout?”

You licked your lips, keeping your voice to a minimum. “You got that right, tommy boy.”

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

Tom has never been devoted to earning someone's forgiveness. He was struggling, and he hated not being in control. It made him feel weak, vulnerable and open feelings he kept closed for most of his life.

It was something about the way you told him off and the tone you gave him that sparked unwanted feelings. He was at his breaking point, trying to do everything he could to make you forgive him. He wanted to just vocalise his apology but that wasn’t what you wanted. It was showing that he was sorry, and it did take him approximately three days and one rom com to figure it out.

He went from extreme in the space of two days, giving you all the attention you ever wanted from him. Picking and dropping you off from school with nothing but silence. He tried to even bake but the burnt cookies were enough of a sign that he wasn’t good at this stuff. He never understood why, and it hit him one night when his parents were barking at each other, he realised that neither of his parents showed him sympathy and when to call truce. It was something that he couldn’t control, and he missed his chance to learn.

Now he was present in the diner. He watched you sit comfortably in the booth. Tom sat morosely contemplating at the greaser who took his spot. His aloof judgement was seen by all customers, young and old. From afar, you vacantly at him, ignoring his glances. Tom’s muscles were clenching with annoyance every time Brett made you laugh. The cackle that rolled off your lips was owned by him, and he hated sharing. Tom holds his breath, pursing his lips together to steel himself from going over there, and taking what is. Now, you were laughing at a lame joke, something to do with psychics. He knew that you loved physics, but Brett found out from that perfect score that was pushed aside like Tom’s existence.

This was his punishment, watching you cradle into someone’s arms alerting him that he was temporary. Tom, to you wasn’t temporary, even though he could have been, he stayed after every fall and argument. His gaze stays on you, but fell when you took off which sinisterly brought a smirk to Tom’s face, only to disappear when you whoosh past him if he was another bystander. He waited for you to say something, anything to put his mind at ease but, you teasingly sat next to him. He gripped the cup of coffee, watching you swat your hair over your shoulder and promptly Tom looked, knowing it was conscious at.

You were exposed and he loathed that you were so confident yet so fragile. Tom before, saw you as just a little girl, playing with barbies and making his action figures marry your dolls. He watched you spring into a flower, that now was crumpled. You were growing and Tom can’t handle the sanguine you sprinkled each awaking hour making it harder for him to be around you. He wanted you in ways he shouldn’t. He always scared off the kids who ever looked over at you, and now he was one of those kids. Scrawling in his chair, thinking of bizarre ways he could get your attention.

A tight, ripped tattooed arm wrapped around your shoulder, just hanging loose but Tom could see the movement of Brett’s hand gliding against your chest. He knew this trick because Tom did it, and he was now disgusted with himself. With his quick reflexes, Tom clutched Brett’s hand tightly letting the irritation roll of his tongue.

“Don’t make me tell Harrison.” He chastised, not even looking at your stare. He continued the squeeze, before pushing him harshly away from you.

“Don’t you ever come back here.” He threatened, before taking a big gulp of his coffee.

He turned to your appalled expression, rolling his eyes at the predictable whining that he queued as soon as he sat down. “You are fucking welcome.”

You shook your head, chuckling at his act. “You don’t ever stop do you?”

“I just saved your ass. You should be more careful.”

“You wanna talk about being careful? Do you even remember the happy ending you got yourself? Or, the free show of seeing me in my underwe--”

Tom chuffed, cutting you off with a smirk. He was proud that you remember every detail of your encounters with him. It didn’t need a saying for Tom to realise that you were his, and only his. “If I remember correctly, you didn’t retaliate. You wanted me to kiss you, feel you didn’t you?”

His breath was now drowning your will to fight back. You took his hand, taking him to the back and shoving him against the wall.

“If you like it rough, at least take me to dinner.”

You inhaled a breath, letting the consequences weigh out later. You saw Tom’s mouth open, ready to make another remark but without thinking like always, you solved everything with a kiss.

It was wet and full of lust. All the envious inside the both of you finally let loose as you both wrestle for dominance. You were weaker than Tom when it came to physical contact, he wanted to be in control. You allowed him to revert positions, and watch you squirm for his touch.

“Not yet.” He whispered against your lips, licking the bottom of your lip in knowledge that you wanted more.

“Not here, sprout.” Tom added, and lightly kissed your sweaty forehead. “Someone like you deserves to be cherished, looked after and not be pleasured around in a dirty diner.”

“Excuse you.” You barked, pushing him away.

“I was being a fucking gentlemen. Sorry for not fucking you” He cringed, and rightfully removed himself away from you. “I’m trying here.”

“Try fucking harder.” You spat, as you watched him exit the diner. “Fucking greasers.” You added after you heard the door slam shut. You did feel slightly guilty for snapping at him. You could tell he was trying but your immaturity got the best of you, once again. Out of regret, you pulled out your phone to apologise, only to be left on read.

“Plan B…” You muttered and called Harrison.

If he wasn’t going to come to you, you just had to go to him.

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

“I don’t fucking understand girls. I seriously don’t get them.” Tom complained whilst entering the tyre shop. “They are all about taking it slow, treat them right and when you refuse to fuck them in public, they get made at you?” He added on. “Make it make sense, Haz? How the fuck have you coped with Betts for three years?”

Harrison chortled at his friend’s outburst, spinning the spinner continuously. “Good afternoon to you too.”

Tom gave an apologetic smile, climbing onto the roof of the car. Harrison handed him a beer that was acute to their surroundings. He was going to save the beer for later but Tom needed it more.

“Cheers.”

“Since when does Thomas Holland get caught up in girl drama? It sounds like you like her.”

“I don’t like her. I want her, there’s a difference.” Tom scowled and pressed his lips to the beer bottle. He snaked the liquid down, letting the cold sweats of the bootle condensed to his knuckles.

“Understood. Do I know this girl?” Harrison quirked, as he wrapped the dirty rag around his shoulder.

“No. She’s new in town.” Tom fabricated, taking another long sip of the intoxicated goods.

Harrison noticed that each time a question was played, Tom devoured his short answers with the beer. “So, what actually happened?”

“Long story short. I shared a moment with her, freaked out and ignored her. I then got into trouble, called her to get me out. She told me to be a man. I helped her with her homework, then rescued her from being grouped and she made out with me.” Tom paused, shutting down Harrison’s remarks. “Didn’t want to pleasure her, she got angry and now I’m here.”

“Fucking hell.” Harrison breathed, trying to soak up the drama that unfolded right in front of him. “It seems like you both are being idiots, and choosing stubbornness to communicate your feelings for another.” Harrison adds.

Tom doesn’t say anything. Completely silent as he knew if he took another sip of the beer, you would be revealed.

“This makes me dread y/n having a boyfriend. Imagine the hassle she would unfold of her’s.” Harrison spluttered, and reached out his phone. “Speak of the devil.” Harrison mumbled, answering her call.

Suddenly Tom’s hand started to tremble with fear. He allowed the froth to rinsed down his arm, soaking his jeans in spite. He heard the laughs coming from Harrison's mouth but that didn’t certify his aroma to be calm. Once Harrison ended the call, a smile pursed on his face.

“Looks like Y/N is cooking us a meal, along with Betty. She decided it has been a while since the four of us have hung out.”

“Great.” Tom mumbled, and regret not finishing the bottle off.

“It will be fun. Y/N is really looking forward to this. She is making bolognese.” Harrison beamed, glancing at the tired shaped clock. “We’ll leave in 10.”

“That clever minx.” Tom muttered and finished the beer off.

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

Upon the messy counter lies two aprons that you dished out from the cupboard. You had no clue to even begin to make bolognese, so convincing Betty to help was exciting at first but, realising that Betty was too inexperienced you both were in a pickle.

“I still don’t get why you thought I could make bolognese? Why can’t we just order take out? And why bolognese? Isn’t that a bit fancy for a movie night.”

“Sorry for praising you. Take out isn’t healthy and Bolognese because To-- I like it, as well as Harrison.” You croaked, hoping Betty wouldn’t pick up on the stumble of Tom’s name.

“One day you’ll make a questionable wife.”

“Agreed.” Harrison responded for you. You curse them both, getting back to reading the recipe. You tried to avoid eye contact with Tom, as he followed Harrison like a lost puppy, acting like he had never been in the kitchen before.

“You girls are done soon? I need some food inside my belly.” Harrison whined and wrapped his arms around Betty’s waist, whilst resting his chin on her shoulder.

Yourself and Tom gazed at them both, still not making eye contact with each other. You removed yourself from the scene, and began to knead the meat. After a minute, Tom couldn’t handle watching you mishandle the meat that he will eat in half an hour.

Regretting every step, he made his way over to you. “I don’t think you are doing that right.” Tom quirked up, standing beside you.

“I’m kneading it.” You clarified with your finger pointing at the instructions.

“Harder, like this.” Tom whispered slowly, placing his hands over your own and began to guide you. You gave him a smile, and continued the motion but your eyes weren’t focused on your hands, they were fixated on Tom’s eyes.

You felt the need of your lips to touch his, the temptation was higher than usual and you hated it. It was risky, childish to result in any confrontation with a kiss or a flirty remark. Tom had the same emotion, fighting himself to not give into the desire of kissing you, like Harrison and Betty were doing. You both were strong enough to communicate through eye contact but weak to speak the emotions.

“I-I think I got it.” You mumbled as you worm your hands away from his. You didn’t want to take any risks, or complicate this friendship more than you have. Tom stuffed up, nodding and returned to the other side of the counter.

Both Tom and Harrison expressed that they would take a beer, and leave you both alone until dinner was served. You didn’t show any emotion, and carried on listening to Betty’s instructions.

Eventually Betty’s instructions became faint and along came the probing of the guilt and remorse behaviour of today’s incident. You acknowledged Brett’s action before Tom could even say anything. You stupidly allowed yourself to be vulnerable to spite him, and make him envy. You punished your heart from being irresponsible and solving everything with a kiss or a flirtatious remark.

Of course inviting him over would just add more fuel to the flame but you loved the colours and the way it danced. You were kidding yourself that Tom nor you would stop the chase, and accept that something is happening but, you both were alike. You knew punishing him for leaving you alone that night was right but, could you blame his loyalty to his best friend? You knew you would have done the same, especially if you knew how much the friendship meant.

Betty’s voice started to become the dominance of your mind, and brought you back to reality.

“I think we should call them in. Can you go get them?” Betty asked, and you shook your head.

“It’s cold and I’m not feeling great.” You mumbled, excusing yourself from the kitchen and landing yourself locked in the bathroom.

Betty frowned, not even having the chance to check on you as she had to serve the boys. When everyone was seated, you were still missing and Tom knew that it had something to do with him.

“Where is she? This was her idea.” Harrison muttered, rolling his eyes at the drama you can convey sometimes.

“I think she is still in the bathroom, I reckon something happened today? She was all moody and sad all afternoon.” Betty informed the both, and Harrison felt a little ashamed for judging his sister.

“I’ll go check on her. Probably had to do with this creep earlier on today.” Tom breathed, getting up from his chair to go look for you. Harrison felt a hunch in his stomach when Tom mentioned the creep but Betty’s smoothing voice diverted his focus.

“Sprout?” Tom whispered, knocking gently on the door. You didn’t answer but let out a sniffle which made Tom’s eyes sink. “Let me in…”

His voice was mellow, and soft. You debated in your mind if you really should let Tom in but, your heart strings literally forced you to unlock the door. Tom heard the click, and slowly opened the door to find you sat on the sink.

“What’s wrong?” Tom quietly cooed, before closing the door behind him. “Why are you crying?”

You sniffle with a perfect timing shrug.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Tom stated and impeded himself between your legs. He used his hand to wipe away the tears floundering from your eyes, and pressed his forehead against yours.

You slowly traced his jawline, cupping his face with your hands and lifted his head up to face you. He saw the hurt in your eyes, and blinked to show that himself, was a bit emotional. You wanted to confess, apologise but the words wouldn’t form but the note of your legs wrapped around his torso invoked a conversation.

He leisurely hauled you closer to him, inviting his presence on your skin. He lightly kissed your temple, and embarked a trail, starting from your lips and pursed to your stomach, gazing his thumb across. He felt the shiver and tightness you showed him. He smirked knowingly that your body was made for his touch, and the look in your eye confirmed his theory. You tried to close your legs, to not show the neediness but your fingers now deep in his skirt said otherwise.

“Don’t fight it…” He murmured, and unfurled your bare legs.

“Tommy.” You breathed out, and watched as his fingers found your panties. He draped his thumb over the silk, lowing his trail each second. Once he felt the moist on the fabric, he pressed his thumb down to your already sensitive clit and evoked a moan.

“My godness, sprout. You are soaked.” He sniggered, and allowed you to respond by digging your nails into the thin fabric that was covering Tom.

Tom lightly pushed aside the fabric, marvelling at the wetness. You felt a small shiver, and gave Tom a nod. He saw your eyes close but with another push to your clit, you opened them.

“Keep 'em open.” Tom urged as he wanted you to see what real pleasure was like. He pushed two fingers into your soaking heat while his thumb played with your clit, sending your mind to oblivion.

Tom watches you carefully, taking in every movement you make and admire how well you took him.

“God, you are so tight.” He moaned against your neck, letting his breath summon you to his coven. He took small movements, allowing yourself to adjust to his fingers. You let out a harsh moan, as you felt his ring glide around your walls provoking your clit to release.

“Quiet, sprout.” He whispered in your ear as he pushed a third finger into you. You just moan, barely registering his rules.

“Tommy, please.” You cried, and felt the pace picking up every second. You were beginning to lose control. Each thrust he made, provoked your will to release.

“Go on…” He purred and observed the expression when you released all over his fingers. Tom pulled his fingers out, revealing how wet you were for him.

“Wanna taste, pretty girl?” He mumbled, gravitating his fingers to your mouth. You slowly nodded, taking his fingers well in your mouth. Tom grunted at the technique you used, and abruptly removed his fingers as he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

Groggily you rested your head in his chest. “Tommy, I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for what, sprout?”

“Everything. Being stupid and immature.”

Tom signed, and felt his heart clench at your words. He should be the one to apologize, not you.

“You have nothing to say sorry for. It’s my fault for starting this and being a dick about it. It’s hard, sprout. You mean a lot to me and I would hate for us to fall out.”

“I do?” You whispered and he hums.

“Of course. I just know that this isn’t what you think this will be. I just need time to wrap my head around all this.”

“You want this?” You asked, lifting your head up to face him.

“I do. Trust me, I do. It’s just complicated at the moment. I just need to actually sit down and think this through.”

“I wish it wasn’t this difficult.”

“Me either, pretty girl.” He signed, engulfing you in a hug.

“We will figure this out, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I think we should get back. They are probably wondering where we are.”

You shrugged, and greedily wanted to spend all of eternity in his arms. “Or, they are making out and forgot about the bolognese and us.”

“Speaking of bolognese. I’m ready to eat what my girl cooked for me.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Betty did most of it.” You laughed, jumping off the counter.

“If all turns out horribly, I can think of a way you can make it up to me.”

“Dream on, Holland.” You said with a chuckle, leading him out of the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a second. I’m gonna clean up.” You add and Tom stops, turning to face you.

“Let me…”

“But yo--”

“Like you said, they are probably making out.”

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

Turning 19 wasn’t such a big deal to you. You weren’t fussed if you didn’t have a massive party or got drunk with a couple of your friends. It was just another year of remembrance that you have spent another year trapped in this town. You loved it, for sure but it’s not what you really wanted. You were smart for your age, achieving the best marks and managing to read over 10 books in two months.

It was the day before your birthday and Betty was on your tail. Each time you were on her radar, she would pout and complain about you not having a party. You tried to suppress her, and reassure her that you will think about it but Betty was an impatient woman.

“Are you sure you don’t want a party? You only get to be a teenager for one more year. You should make the most of it.” She allured you by sliding a small cupcake with sparkles to try and lure you to agreeing.

You thanked her for the effort but shook your head. You watched Betty throw her head down onto the counter, laughing at her childish tantum. You turned to look over at Harrison, who was just as asmused as the rest of the greasers at the free comedic show.

“Betts, baby. If she doesn’t want a party, then she doesn’t want one.” Harrison called, climbing out of the booth to give Betty a hug.

You looked over your shoulder, feeling a tad guilty on your part for shutting Betty down. You turned to face the pin board, and saw a poster of a drive inn event tomorrow. You instantly ripped the piece of paper and slammed it right in front of Betty, who shot her head up.

“Let’s do this. It’s simple, and they are playing dirty dancing.”

Betty furrowed her eyebrows, picking up the paper. “A drive inn movie? You want to spend your birthday in a car watching dirty dancing?”

“Er.. what’s wrong with dirty dancing, babe?” Harrison argued, removing his touch from Betty’s waist.

You and Harrison exchanged looks, grinning as you both secretly loved watching that romcom. It was the only thing that kept you guys sane when your parents would fight.

“You too? Seriously, Harrison? You are the leader of a motorcycle street gang and you go nuts for Patrick Swayze?”

“He even wanted to be him.” You laughed, receiving a glare from Harrison.

“I told you that in confidence.” He frowned before snatching the cupcake from you.

Betty exchanged looks to the both of you, watching as you both squirm for the cupcake.

“You both do realise that there’s a whole fresh batch of cupcakes right behind you?” Betty teased, crumbling the paper and aimed for the trashcan.

“Betts. I love you, I do but, can we just go to the drive inn? Please? I just don’t want to make a big deal out of this…”

Betty huffed, accepting defeat. “Fine, okay. I’m still dressing you up though.”

“Nothing too flashy. I want to be comfortable..” You grinned, as you took apart your apron.

“I’m taking my break. Have fun.” You said, and left Harrison and Betty to have a mindless argument about dressing you up.

While you sat on the low wall, swaying your legs back and forth admiring the nature around you. You always loved taking breaks, as being stuck in a diner and surrounding yourself with different artificial smells it could really drain you. As you bit into your sandwich, you saw a freshly waxed green mustang park right in front of you. You could hear their words slur out of their mouth. You just chuckled in amusement, as they were struggling to climb out of the car.

As you passed your eyes, locking onto one face. You noticed that he changed so much, he was broader and looked a bit cleaner than before. Charlie and yourself went way back, first crush and first friend before Betty came along. He was born a greaser but, once his mother remarried, he had no choice to follow. You were sad at first, cried almost every night that your one friend had gone and left you here. But, as time went on, he was just a distant memory to you and seeing him now, was starting to change and you didn’t like it.

“Long time not talk, y/n.” Charlie said, walking up to you. You didn’t engage with him, and took another bite of your sandwich.

“Still the same as I left ya.” He grinned, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Charlie.” You said, flicking his hand away. “Are you still trying to be a shark? We both know that you still have grease on your hands.”

The other two boys looked at Charlie, struggling to understand your claim. You instantly catched on, hatching a little plan to provoke them.

“You boys didn’t know that Charlie was a greaser? He was all for the Danny Zuko vibes. Isn’t that right, Char.”

He grunted, shaking his head as he tried to put on a front. “A word, please.”

You happily accepted, wiggling your hands to the others before Charlie forced you to follow him. “What you playing at, y/n?”

“I’m just telling them the truth.” You spat. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of where you came from.”

“I’m not. I was a kid. I don’t even remember anything.” He said, scrunching his nose.

“Don’t lie to me. You remember everything.” You said, gently pushing him.

“I was 12. I didn’t even know that my life would change. I didn’t ask to be rich, we had to get out of there.” Charlie explained, keeping his voice low so the others don’t hear him.

“It hurt you know. Watching your best friend just leave. It was harder to watch you see me as a stranger, every time we passed in the halls. It hurt.”

“You seem to be pretty fine now. You got yourself a questionable fella.”

“What fella?” You asked, regretting it instantly.

Charlie sniggered a laugh, dusting the dirt off your shoulders. “Oh sweet naive little lamb. You don’t think I know about your little affair with Tom?”

“He is a friend. There’s nothing going on.”

“A friend?” He laughed, whistling his friends to come over. “I don’t think Tom would call you that.”

“Charlie, stop playing.” You hissed, watching his friend circle you. “This is ridiculous. He is my brother’s best friend.”

“Then, watching him get beaten up because of one comment about you really signifies, friend.”

You paused, retracing the night that they referred to. “It was you? You did that to him?”

“Ah, she remembers. I’m guessing your friend came over to yours after? Hm? Did you patch him up like you used to do with me? I’m guessing he gave you a little reward for being such a good minx.” He paused for a moment, watching you squirm in his touch.

“Did you feel his needs? Being a little who--” You cut him off with a spit.

Charlie, piked up a laugh. “You fucking bitch.” He said before colliding his hand to your face. Moments after Charlie felt the stinging sensation in his hand, he realised what he did. He immediately let you go. His feet froze, disgusted to even look down at his hand.

“Drop dead.” You whispered, walking away from him.

His thoughts were snapped when he saw a Yamaha YZF R1 09-16 Arrow Exhaust skirt up in front of you. He had a bunch of roses strapped to his side but they instantly dropped when he made contact with you.

You were hurt and Tom detected that instantly, which made something flutter inside of your stomach.

Tom ran to you, pulling you into a tight hug as you cried into his chest. He turned his head, making eye contact with the same boy who jumped him the other week. He watched as the other boys got into the car, driving away leaving Charlie to defend himself.

“Sprout? What happened?” Tom whispered, but you didn’t say anything. You shudder your hand towards the sharks and Tom didn’t need an explanation he knew exactly what happened.

You felt a sudden rush of coldness when Tom parted from you. You scrutinized Tom’s chase, trembling nervously that he would be wounded again. “Tom, just leave it.” You yowled, as you began to run after him.

“Listen to your girl…” Charlie stammered, trying out to run Tom.

But, Tom’s anger and frustration only got stronger. “What the fuck did you do?” Tom exasperated, tackling him to the floor. Tom aggressively grabbed Charlie by his polo shirt, and threw a punch to his nose.

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean too…” Charlie begged, covering his face but Tom was too quick for the boy.

“An accident? What did you do?” He growled, slamming his body onto the floor.

Charlie didn’t say anything, he kept quiet.

“Did you not fucking hear me? I said, what did you do.” Tom teethed, kicking his ribs. “Look familiar aye? You like that” He laughed, continuing his action. “Where’s your fucking pussy now?”

“ENOUGH, TOM.” You screamed, trying to pull him back. “He’s had enough.”

Tom kept to his feet, shaking his knuckles. “You fucking sharks think it’s okay to come into our area, cause trouble and think you can get away from it? If you ever think, see or speak about her. I’ll find you and finish you off.” He threatened, colliding his fist to Charlie’s face once more before letting him go.

“Pathetic.” Tom mumbled and turned to face you.

“Are you okay? Let me see…” Tom’s voice softened, brushing his hand against your cheek. You winced at his touch, granting the tears immunity to race down your cheek.

“I’m so sorry. I should have been here fast enough. If only I came a bit early this wouldn't have happened.” Tom frowned, pulling you into his chest.

“It’s not your fault.. it’s mine for pushing Charlie’s buttons.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for a man hitting you. No man should be violent towards a girl, it’s not right.”

“He mentioned you and said some things and I-- ” You stammered, but Tom assured you that you didn’t need to explain.

“It’s okay, princess. It’s okay.” Tom hushed, rocking your body back and forth. In his embrace, the pain for a moment stopped. You felt your body press in, soft and warm. Tom’s dirty white t-shirt smelt like home, and weirdly this is the love she explained to Charlie. You inwardly thanked Tom for scaring them off, pressing a soft kiss to his chest in which Tom smiled. Once you calmed down, you released yourself from his embrace wiping the runned down mascara off your face.

“I should get back in.. Betty is probably worried.”

Tom shook his head, “No. I’ll take you home. I’ll text Haz.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” He said, planting a small kiss to your head. “Go get on the motorcycle.”

You did as you were told, something Tom loved seeing. You walked towards the parked vehicle and felt your shoe stomp on a bouquet of roses.

“Tommy.. What are these?” You said, picking them up.

Tom looked up from his phone and groaned at the roses. “They were supposed to be for you but they got ruined. I’ll buy you new ones.”

“No. I like it. Thank you, Tommy.”

He grinned, shoving his phone into his pocket. “You ready?”

“As I will ever be.”

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

The daylight had dwindled to a barely perceivable lighting that made this thing between Tom even more confusing. Each wall had something to do with bikers, art and a small little note that was above his headboard. You squint your eyes, using your arm as a ladder to see the familiar note.

Tom was too occupied with his console to even look over at what you were doing. You slowly read the note, cringing at the words that were written. You tried to read the sentence but the writing was slightly disformed.

“When life gives you lemonade, make lemons. Life will be like whaaaat?” Tom said, grinning at the tv. After he heard your laugh, he automatically closed the tv, and fell back into his covers.

“How did you know?” You laughed, situating yourself next to him.

“You always used to forget the saying, so one day i made you write it down. And, I guess i just left it there because strangely, over time it made sense.”

You suddenly began to fall shy, not evening responding to Tom’s statement. You stared up into his wall, closing your eyes to take in everything that was unravelling. Your heart was thumping, and your hands were clammy which made everything vertigo.

Tom, luckily was occupied with his phone to notice your contemplating mind. You trace your thoughts back to Charlie’s comment, repeating the words over and over, as you didn’t take in the claim properly before.

Your tummy turned and twisted in excitement but your brain died it down, as it couldn’t handle more complications to this situationship you have with Tom. It wasn’t confirmed, nor labelled which made sense since Tom said he needed to figure things out. You were an impatient person, and it had been two weeks since Tom fingered you.

You really didn’t need clarification on Charlie’s statement but, if Charlie was right, you were ready to risk everything because if Harrison taught you anything it was that, if someone is willingly to fight for you, they are worth the hassle.

“Tommy? Can I ask you something?” You queried, modifying your body so it was facing Tom’s.

He mirrored your movement. “Anything.”

“Was Charlie the one who beat you up the other week? And, don’t lie to me…”

He didn’t say anything.

“What did he say?” You bit your lip with anticipation.

Tom bit his lip, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “He made a comment about you and I couldn't let him take it.”

You slowly turn his body back to its original position, letting Tom sink into his sheets. He furrowed his eyebrows as you positioned yourself on his lap. You slowly place your palms on his chest, watching him unriddle your actions.

“Sprout, whatcha doing?” Tom whispered, and glances at your hands roaming down his bare chest. You wiggle yourself lower, tugging on his black belt.

“Just let me thank you.” You whispered, leaning down and placing small gentle kisses all of his chest, kissing more intently as you made it to his collarbone. You begin to suck on his skin which earnt Tom’s hands, find his way to your ass, and grips it lightly.

“You don’t have to thank me like this. I wouldn’t mind a simple bolognese..”

“I know but, I want to.”

Tom didn’t fight it anymore, he simply allowed himself to distress and only let out a handful of words.

You snickered a laugh, and commended him for surrendering. “I’m going to take care of you.” You begin to tackle his chest, again and allow your tongue to slowly move south. Tom bit his lip and his breath got heavy as he watched you with pure need, groaning at the movement of your tongue and praising words.

You stare at him, contemplating to tease him or not. Out of his bravery, you removed his jeans, along with his boxers and watched his dick spring out. You rub your thighs together and tie your hair in a ponytail. You licked your lips, looking at his huge length. Tom just shrugged, and glanced at the nerves “You got this, baby.” Tom promised, giving you a little wink of assurant.

You nod, and without warning you swoop your mouth around his member, trying to decide the best motion to start from. Tom’s teeth clenched as he restrained himself from getting in control. Out of practice, Tom’s hips rocked with anticipation whenever you swirl your tongue around his length.

You notice Tom’s restraint, and unsteady hands and look up at him, seeing him squirm. With respect, you pushed your hands into his inner thighs, and took more of him.

“Fuck.” Tom cried out in pleasure, as your mouth took him perfectly. You moan with pleasure at his reaction, and force his hips to thrust. You never really were an active person, this was probably your first time ever going all the way. You closed your eyes and began to bob your head slowly up and down his length, swirling your tongue around his tip as Tom tried to place his hands in your hair.

Tom bit his lip, looking down at you as you worked on his member, his breathing heavily, as his eyes rolled back. You stare at his reaction, feeling fulfilled with your technique. You moan lovingly onto his length, causing him to thrust up into you, you whimper but immediately adjust, allowing him to push further back. You closed your eyes, and tried to obtain his movement, not wanting to disappoint him.

You moan onto his cock, and feel his legs shake out of dismay to release. You give him an assuring nod, allowing him to realise his cum inside you. You surprisingly swallow all he gave you. Tom gave you a minute to adjust yourself, wanting to not rush you. You slowly let Tom’s length out of your mouth, and maneuvered your body to the bed nuzzling your head into his neck.

“You did so good baby.” Tom whispered, quickly pulled his boxers up and wrapped his arms around you. You didn’t respond which scared Tom but the minute he heard your soft snores, he only smiled.

“Happy birthday, sprout.”

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

“I don’t technically like how short this skirt is... Harrison is going to kill me, well you.” You cringed at the looks given by boys half your age. You stay relatively close to Betty, securing your purity.

“I think you look beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes at her compliment. “Well that’s biased because you are the one who dressed me.”

Betty signed, darting her eyes around to see if she can spot Harrison and Tom. “Do you see them?”

You shook your head, and held your skirt close to your skin before pointing them out. Betty signed, pulling your arm as she spotted the two boys at the far end of the screen.

“And here’s the birthday girl.” Harrison praised, opening his arms for a warm embrace. You gave him a small smile, watching his gaze fixated on your outfit. Harrison turned to Betty and she innocently shrugged, giving him a small kiss to his temple.

“What the fuck is she wearing?”

“An outfit. It looks perfect.” Betty nudged, and turned to face Tom who was relatively quiet. “Doesn’t she look great, Tom?”

It took Tom some time to actually get a full view on your figure. He had never seen you like this, it was always shorts and a hoodie. He wasn’t complaining but, he did feel a tight twitch in his lower half, securing his hands over his jeans to hide the actual truth. He honestly was in a pickle of how to respond to Betty’s question. There wasn’t a right answer so Tom just nodded, and moved uncomfortably in his seat.

He tried to avoid eye contact by watching the adverts on the screen, and occasionally watched what others were up too. Overtime, Tom’s warmth was suddenly stolen by your figure, as you found your spot next to him.

Tom didn’t say much, and gave you a small wave.

“I hope this is okay… I can go sit with Harrison.” You whispered not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. You knew Tom couldn’t express his true feeling of your outfit, but he never really gave you a sign that he liked it either.

“No. Stay.” He mumbled, as he watched a few of the greasers give you a look. “People keep looking… Why did Betty dress you up like that?”

You shrugged, “You don’t like it?”

“No no. Fuck, you look fucking beautiful. I just took me off guard…”

You nodded, not really knowing how to respond.

“Sprout, trust me. If Harrison wasn’t here” He muttered, and you just squeezed his hand tight.

“I get it. You don’t need to stress yourself out.” You laugh, squeezing his hand tight. Tom nodded, looking straight ahead at the screen. He gradually came out with an idea to take a good look at you without it being creepy or suspicious. When Tom was about to place his hand on your thigh, Harrison peeped over so you quickly swatted his hand away.

“So, Y/N. How are you liking your birthday so far?” Harrison finally made a comment, just when the film was about to start.

“Ask me when the movie is over.” You whispered, taking the popcorn off Tom’s lap. Tom pouted, and watched the lights go down. He noticed that every couple was either cuddling or making out. He turned his head to see Harrison and Betty already eating each other's faces which results in the two of you throwing popcorn at them.

“The audacity people have to disrespect Patrick Swayze.” You said, stuffing your mouth with a handful of popcorn.

“So lady like.” Tom laughed, and copied your movement. As the movie kept playing, you noticed the soft glances you gave each other. You slowly moved your hands intertwined with his, watching a coy smile grow as he pulled you closer to him. You both were thankful that it was dark, and the majority of the people were occupied. It felt like the two of you were in your own world, where time was your friend.

“We are probably going to head back home… Betty isn’t exactly feeling well.” Harrison lied through his teeth. You knew they just wanted to fuck and didn’t want to ruin your birthday.

“Get well soon.” You winked, knowing exactly the reason. Betty waved off the two of you, giggling at the fast movement Harrison was taking.

“And then there were two.” You hummed, and placed your head on his shoulder. He relaxed himself, letting you get cosy in his embrace. You both sat there awkwardly, watching the movie play. When a song began to play, Tom redirected his hand to your thigh. He gently began to rub circles into your inner thigh, smiling normally at the screen.

You bit your lip, feeling the slight moisture in between your legs. You hitch a moan, not wanting Tom to hear or even think you were aroused but a single touch. “You wanna go somewhere warmer? I have my car parked right at the back…” He whispered, and you nodded.

“It is getting a little chilly.” You laughed, excusing yourself from the seats. You and Tom, still hand in hand walked across the lot admiring the quietness of the drive inn.

Tom twirled you around, and you gave him a full show of your legs. Tom licked his lips as he spotted the lacey black underwear under your skirt. You knew how much he liked that colour on you, and you also knew that something was going to happen.

When you both reached the car, Tom immediately slammed your body against the car, and crashed his lips on yours. He didn’t even care at this point, he just wanted to show you how ravishing you looked and what it did to him.

“Open the door.” He grunted, against your mouth, not even bothering to take his lips away from yours, his tongue leaves only to see how long he could form his words. Your brain wasn’t even functioning at this point, other than the feeling inside you, wanting him. After a long second, Tom realises that his demand wasn’t obeyed. “Open the door, Y/N.” Again, but with a more husky voice. He kept his hands firmly on your hip, not allowing you to move as he fiddles with your hand for the keys. He removes his lips away from you, opening the door to pull you inside.

The car’s horn beeped, and headlights blipped as you both stumbled to the back seat. Your ass landed straight onto the cold mental of the seatbelt, and he bumped his head on the roof. Before you even got comfy, Tom loomed over you, manhandling your body to rest on the seats. He quickly slammed the door shut, and watched you undress. Tom’s eyes were fixated on your bare skin, licking his lips as he devoured the look of your breasts out in the open. You were lucky that he wasn’t ripping your clothes apart but, Tom didn’t hesitate at all rip your panties off you. He went down on you, with lustful eyes and kissed you. His kisses always started so soft but from the teasing you were given him, he wasn’t at all going to go easy on you. Without any warning, he shoved two full fingers inside your heat, feeling the walls clench around his fingers.

“You are so tight.” He growled, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You gripped on the front car seat, moaning his name as you felt another finger slip easily inside you.

“I’m gunna make you feel so good. Gunna make sure everyone knows you are mine.” He smirked, and watched you thrust against his fingers.

He grinned, and grabbed a hold of your left boob, massaging it with ease.

“Tommy.” you moaned, grinding down onto his fingers. “Please”

With a smirk, Tom went faster, blocking out the whimpers.

“Please what?”

“I need you” You whined, and Tom abruptly takes his fingers out, watching you cool down, and shoves his fingers back inside you.

“God, you are taking me so well.” He muttered against your skin, leaving you several love bites.

“‘M gunna.” You pant but he abruptly takes his fingers out of you, and moves his face so he was buried between your face.

“Hold on, sprout. I wanna taste you.” He mumbled, and you allowed him. You moaned loudly, arching your back when he ran his tongue down your folds, slow and teasing at first. He had never eaten you out before, so he wanted to do it right. He made you hitch your breath as he flicked and coiled with his tongue and use his hands to hold your body down. Tom continued to tease you, earning himself a strong gripped to his hair. Luckily he didn’t gell it, he thought as he grasped a moan.

Tom made sure to keep his dark eyes on you, wanting to watch you take him. He swirled his tongue around your folds, sucking gently on your sensitive heat. Tom could feel himself getting harder, with all the little moans and movements, you were driving him insane. Neither of you notice that within starting your rendez-vouz the window of the car had fogged up, turning the glass window into a pale dusty gray, dripping with moisture from the condensation.

With a teasing smile, Tom buried his tongue inside you, making you scream a loud moan; he knew you had a sweet spot, and soon enough invited his fingers to take care of your spot. You gripped harder onto his hair, buckling your hips while you walls clenched on his fingers and your cum was eagerly eaten by Tom.

He pulled away, licking his lips and moved his lips to yours so you could have a taste.

“God you taste so sweet. I wish I did this early.” He grinned, praising you for how well you took him.

“Tommy, I want to ride you.” You whispered, and watched Tom’s eyes light up like a child at christmas. He nodded, and helped you up.

Without so much of a warning, he roughly pulled onto his lap, and his grip found your hips. He awkwardly pushed his jeans and boxers down to his ankles; you gaze at his hard length, moaning loudly as the tip grazed your pussy.

“What’s the matter, pretty girl? You want to ride it that badly?”

You bit your lip, nodding eagerly. “I do.”

It was hard for Tom to contain his growl that escaped his throat when you answered him clearly. Without even a second of hesitation, he aided you in lining yourself up before he let out a loud, pleasuring, curse when you went down on him. You found your arms gripping his shoulder as you began to slowly grind your hips, getting familiar with his size.

“Fuck, you are taking me so well.” He praised quietly. “You look so fucking good riding me, sprout.” He coyed, harshly thrusted more of his length inside you.

You didn’t want to let out loud moans, or screams just in case someone comes, so you dropped your head against his neck, and even though you were begging him for more, the moans that escaped your lips were loud enough for the stars to hear you.

You could feel Tom’s smug smile, burning into your skin, as he titled his head to the side and nipped at your skin, leaving bright hickeys everywhere whilst he took a fist of your hair , tugging it harshly, whilst his other hand firmly on your hip. You were getting close, you could feel another orgasm coming through as Tom roughly thrusted into you, not even wanting to ever stop you from riding him. He enjoyed it too much for it to end so soon.

“I’m close, Tommy.”

Tom growled at the nickname but also knowing you were about to cum, he harshly buckedup his lips, untangling his hand from your hair in order to allow himself, again, to play with your clit. He continued to praise you, telling you sweet things in your ear. You weren’t sure how much you could take it, but for you to be screaming his name, whilst you clenched around him. You both were so close, and as you both came simultaneously together you pressed your hand against the steamed- up window as Tom’s began to return from his high.

He slowly helped you off him, settling you down on the seat. He grabbed the spare blanket he had in his boot, and wrapped it around your body. He lifted you up and placed you in his chest.

“You looked so beautiful when you were riding me, sprout.” He whispered, kissing your cheek. “You did so well. I don’t think I have ever had someone ride me that well.” He smirked, running his hand down your arm.

You didn’t say anything due to the exhaustion of your moans and screams. In the silence, there was warmth. The light radiated your bodies, tracing them effortlessly. Biting your lip, you felt the brawny aroma scrape your sensitive skin, causing a slight hiss to escape.

You blushed, grinning as you turned to face him. You fell deeply into his eyes counting the small freckles on his face. You were both still silent, not a word was spoken. You both, somehow, felt what the other was feeling with just eye contact.

“Tommy?”

He quietly hummed, too fixated on tracing the bridge of your nose to even concentrate.

“What are we?” “Whatever you want us to be.”

The grating reality of yourself and Tom ever being together desist your response. It was something you’ve been longing for but the probing of guilt caused your body tense, breaking the affinity you both just shared.

Tom easily felt disquiet when he saw you sit up, and couldn’t help but sympathize with you. “Sprout…?” He softly called, trying to pull you back into his embrace. “What’s got you all worked up? Did I do something?”

“You did everything perfectly, that’s the problem.”

Tom was addled in the reply. He still continued to stroke your arm, as it got you through many things before.

“I’m not following, princess. I thought you wanted this? I thought you wanted us?” Tom croaked, feeling slightly uneasy by the sudden change of heart.

“I do. I just can’t help but think about Haz. What he would do to you? I don’t want this to cause a war between you too. You are both important to me, and I can’t hurt the other without hurting another.”

He swept your body onto his lap to commiserate you. He brought your hair back, and flicked away loose strands of hair before brushing a thumb to cease a tear from falling on a perfect night. You divert your attention to his loose chain wrapping the metal around your fingers to stable your heart from bursting.

Tom raised your chin with a single finger, pressing a small peck to your lips. “It was bound to happen, angel. I don’t think we could have fought this affection any longer. I can’t even sleep without thinking about you. You made me feel things that I never thought someone could do to me. Those days where you were mad at me were torture. It felt wrong not annoying you at dawn about coffee, it felt weird not helping you with a math problem and it felt like everything was falling apart when you weren’t somehow near me. I know I haven’t been the best at showing my apology, but, the things you got me feeling, it opened something for me. It made me want to do better and not just with you but, life itself. You are that invisible string that I can’t seem to let go.” He paused, as he slowly placed his forehead against yours.

“Let me love you like you deserve to be loved. I will ease it slowly to Harrison in time but, in the meantime, let’s see where this night will take us. If getting kicked out of the gang, and losing certain privileges for loving you, so be it. I have you and that’s what truly matters at the end of the day. I’m not losing you again, sprout.”

The fidelity of Tom’s words loiter in your mind. You soaked up every word that left his lips, and caressed his cheek. The water in your eyes felt calm, and reassuring that you had someone who cared for you. You inclined your body to converge to his own, and intimately trailed your thumb over his lip before kissing him again.

taglist: @katexrichardson @watermelonsponge @spideyspeaches@veryholland @cutesparker @oopmyheartwent-obx @curlybrownhairedboys @calamitykaty @pensivepeter @heybarzy @sunwardsss @insidiousslut

[leviiattacks]

Hi, you're a very talented writer and your works are very beautiful. Can I request one where Levi's fem s/o does the ignore your boyfriend prank? Thank you so much and take care of yourself ❤️

author note :: thank youuu i’m glad you think that anon !! this isn’t good at all bc i’m just very sick and yeah,,, i’m sorry if this doesn’t live up to your expectations but i needed something to do and ended up finishing this. hmmm what is this is it fluff?? idk it’s captain levi and survey corps member reader though :-) requests are open so feel free to drop by if you’d like :D word count :: 3.4k 

you should NOT be bothering levi as much as you are because he understands you need your own space to relax sometimes

but come on... you’ve been ignoring him for an unreasonable amount of time now??

and he’s not talking about groggy ignoring, it’s not the type you do when you’ve just awoken from a restless night’s sleep

no. you’re talking to everyone apart from him.

and it’s driving him up a literal wall

did he do something wrong???

has he made a mistake so large that you’re too scared to bring it up???

are you finally sick of him??

will you break up with him?

levi winces when thinking of that specific question

but he’s the type to silently keep his worries to himself as soon as he sees any indication of a bad omen

currently, he’s mentally preparing himself for you to break the news to him any day now

but little does he know you’ve just pulled a prank hoping for him to whine and complain a little

the point of this all is to elicit an out of character reaction

;-)

the idea came from historia at first

her playing such a foul trick on ymir didn’t go unnoticed and little by little ymir’s resolve crumbled away throughout the day

she went quite literally ballistic trying to get historia’s attention

and watching it all play out made you want to try it out with levi

you’d be a FOOL not to

WELL!!!! the fun part about this is that you’re a bit actually, no. a lot, more stubborn than historia!!!

and instead of committing to the prank for a day you’ve chosen to see how far you can stretch this out

if you have to drag it out for two days so be it

you have good reason to

levi isn’t the most affectionate man, your relationship is kept a total secret from all of the cadets

meaning pda never happens

and,,, listen you would love to kiss him before expeditions without having to drag him behind your horse for cover

to be frank the back of a horse does smell rather unpleasant and it’s not as romantic as you’d like for it to be

honestly you’d rather have everyone stare and gawk in awe watching the two of you make out

seeing them put two and two together realizing what it is that’s going on between you and the captain would be hilarious

especially since reiner said last week he could never picture levi dating anyone

AND!! he even had the audacity to say he thinks someone like him would never date someone on the team

is it really not that obvious to them?

do you and levi lack chemistry?

silently fuming you walk away and even then none of the cadets get the hint

but you do think mikasa has known for a while. her senses are sharp and whenever she sees you and levi together she makes a u-turn heading in the opposite direction away from the both of you

but even if she does she isn’t going to tell anyone about it unless she’s directly asked so it’s not like the cat will be out of the bag any time soon

it’s silly getting worked up over reiner’s comments but it’s kinda disheartening having the relationship be kept a secret

and you thought even if it was there would be at least a hint of a rumour, like it should be decently obvious it’s been months since the two of you began to see each other

ESSENTIALLY, this is your plan to “accidentally” let the cadets figure it out

eventually levi will have to get restless enough to do something bold

that’s what you think will happen

but then the reality of the situation hits you at the end of the first day

he seems to be dealing with it just fine ?????

after giving him the cold shoulder he shows no signs of returning at all

...

WHY IS IT NOT WORKING???

mayday mayday mayday....?!??

red alert....?!??

you are about to bang your head against a wall he’s the one who’s meant to be suffering over this not you

but again, you’re stubborn and won’t give in easily

by the end of day one levi has approached you two times

two...

each time you’ve given him completely blunt responses

it’s frustrating you that he’s just dealing with it as it comes

and when he does speak to you it’s not to ask what’s wrong

the first time he approaches you is to ask if you’ve seen petra around which makes your blood boil a little because everyone knows petra has a big, fat, MASSIVE crush on him

you know he won’t ever reciprocate or anything for a number of reasons but you can’t help but feel annoyed

the second time he speaks to you is to ask if you’re willing to help hange out with some paperwork

??????

he doesn’t even look interested in asking you what’s wrong

honestly you would drop this plan but you’re in too deep now

may as well keep it up.

the second day rolls around and it’s not your best day

you burn breakfast

trip over a broom and hit your leg rather hard against the dining table

spill an ENTIRE cup of tea over hange’s important documents

and you haven’t slept a wink after overthinking your relationship status for hours on end

maybe this prank wasn’t a great idea

you’re hunched over the documents close to tears not knowing how you can save them now

there’s nothing you can do and even though you know hange will be okay with it, (they’ve never cared much for paperwork) you just don’t want to inconvenience them with this mess

“y/n?”

looking up you see eren standing by the doorway of the kitchen watching with a humored expression as you place paper towels over the disaster you’ve created

“captain’s looking for you.”

perking up a little internally you make sure to remain as disinterested as possible on the surface

“what does he need?”

“i don’t know he didn’t say.”

“tell him i’m busy.”

and that’s all that occurs during day two

you pass by levi and occasionally his gaze flicks to you but he doesn’t take any action to address you in public or in private

you end up going to bed even more disappointed than you were the first night

the prank definitely isn’t going the way you want and instead of it leading to levi cornering you in front of everyone and dipping you into a dreamy swoon worthy kiss it’s led to you developing doubts.

many doubts.

but you aren’t giving up any time soon, now more than ever you want to be reassured levi even wants this relationship because he’s not acting like it

it’s admittedly a bitch move on your part for pulling this prank in the first place but you expected him to ask how you were doing it has been forty-eight hours after all

if the roles were reversed you’d force him into a room until he would tell you

so you can’t explain his weird behaviour at all

maybe he doesn’t like you as much as you think

that thought makes your eyes sting at the corners

he’s always been reserved and a little lost when it comes to opening up but you’re beginning to lose hope if he finds it this hard to ask if you’re okay

drifting off to sleep before you can wallow in your thoughts any more you wish tomorrow is better

it’s the third day and to say you’re exhausted is an understatement

midday and you’re training in the sweltering heat

the lack of sleep you’ve had recently paired with your stress isn’t doing you any good

a little dizzy you attempt to hold onto a nearby tree for stability but end up somehow missing the mark by a MILE??

tumbling to the floor painfully you hiss at the collision and rub the back of your head which is now sore

footsteps approach you in a hurry and for the first time in days you’re face to face with levi

“you okay?” concern is very much evident in his voice and that eases your nerves

without you even responding he’s turning you around just to check in case

nodding wordlessly you try to get to your feet when you feel a shift.

your ankle without warning gives out on you and you’re sent crashing back down to the ground

closing your eyes and bracing for impact you’re pleasantly surprised when levi catches you by the waist

your weight is leaning onto him and you’re looking down to the floor

hange is yelling from across the courtyard telling levi to drop you off at the infirmary but he doesn’t need to be told that

his instincts do the talking for him and he’s already slung you over his shoulder and begins carrying you towards the base

“levi. put. me. down. this position’s embarrassing.”

he doesn’t respond and you can hear sasha and connie cackling at the compromising situation

swatting his back you’re huffing and puffing yet he’s still ignoring you

you’re being given the silent treatment but you suppose you do deserve it

sighing you deal with the stares you receive on the way there

this is levi and at this point nothing is seen as abnormal when he does it

you can’t really look behind you to see levi’s expression either but when a cadet walks past and mouths “y/n, what the hell did you do??” you know you’re in for it

eventually he reaches the infirmary and without even letting you get a word in he plops you onto the bed albeit a little rough

“what’s with the cold shoulder?” he places both his arms by your sides leaving you trapped

“i-”

“if you want to break up you can just say that instead of beating around the bush.”

you’re stunned by the harsh tone of his voice, he doesn’t have his usual soft timbre and your eyes glaze over in defense

“you want to break up?” your question hangs in the air

chewing at your lip anxiously you know if you bite any harder you’ll draw blood

“i don’t care. if that’s what you want, sure.”

oh.

oh no.

this isn’t going how you planned

nails digging into the flesh of your palms you hang your head low

he doesn’t care at all

if that’s what you want????? really???? that’s his response??? he won’t even fight for you???

it’s silent as he bandages your ankle and you’re burning in a mix of embarrassment and fury.

“i was just pull-” choking up in the middle of your sentence you feel yourself automatically frown

“i was just pulling a prank on you. you know how historia did with ym-“

really you’ve always been terrible at holding back your tears and a few spill over the edge and you sob

why are you like this why why why why why?????

yeah,, you get why everyone calls you overly emotional from time to time but really you swear you feel your heart shatter a little at how levi’s acting

shielding your eyes with your sleeve you cower away from him

lord have mercy.

levi wants to curl up into a ball and die from the wave of embarrassment that hits him

a prank.

a trick.

and he didn’t catch on.

and now you’re crying.

because he thought acting tough and cold in case you wanted to break up with him made perfectly logical sense???

spoiler : it didn’t make any sense...

but now it’s made him look like he hates you??

but he doesn’t hate you

no, no, no. not at all.

he could never hate you.

you’re always willing to help anyone out, you’re genuine, always say sorry even when you don’t need to, unapologetically yourself at any moment, you’re fearful yet push it all aside to be courageous and most of all he loves your little hobbies because who in their right mind actually enjoys gardening??

he’s convinced people who say they like gardening are looking for something unique to make themselves stand out but really you enjoy it and it’s quite cute

ok, ok no more getting side tracked whilst talking about your love for plants

he could name so much more he admires about you but he’d be here all day

“i tried to talk to you yesterday but after you refused i thought you hated me and wanted to break up. that’s why i was acting like that just now.” he slowly tries to explain his point to you

“i know i’m hard to love so when you began to ignore me out of the blue i figured you didn’t want to-”

cutting him off without giving him the option of finishing his sentence you’re wide eyed in horror. he was NOT meant to interpret the prank this way.

“levi?? for as long as i’m alive i’ll never get tired of you. i promise.” his heart rate shoots and the intense magnetism between the two of you becomes stronger by the second

you pause for a second gathering yourself.

“and i’m sorry i should’ve thought about how you’d feel. the reason i did it was stupid.”

levi kneels by the bed and takes your hand in his, he graciously lifts the sleeve of your uniform and ducks down to press a soft kiss onto your wrist.

your heart flutters seeing him be so careful and gentle with you and bashfully you look away

guilt overwhelms you at that moment because you really are horrible for putting him through all of that.

levi cares for you he does

he may be silent about it and not the best at being public with it but you know how he feels.

you feel it in the way he looks at you

you feel it when he helps you mount your horse

you feel it when he double checks your harnesses before expeditions

you feel it when he tends to your injuries

and, you definitely feel it right now when it sinks in that he was acting like he hated you just so you wouldn’t feel bad if you really did want to break up with him.

he’s always been bad at picking up on hints and cues so you now understand why he interpreted it as you wanting nothing to do with him

of course he wouldn’t ask how you were if it looked like you wanted to skin him alive

“what was the reason for the prank?” he inquisitively asks genuinely wanting to know what it is he can do for you

“i...” you’re wandering off and suddenly don’t want to tell him

“i wanted you to kiss me.” you whisper in a rush

he cocks an eyebrow up even more lost. “i kiss you all the time?”

“i mean, in front of everyone else.”

he blinks and his mouth forms into an “O” shape

it’s a little awkward now

he doesn’t bring it up again so you assume he doesn’t like the idea of letting everyone know just yet

and that’s okay!! you respect that!!

after all, you can’t get mad at him for it, it’s the best choice.

you don’t want people to accuse him of having bias towards you and it’ll probably upset petra and hinder her performance if her crush just suddenly starts dating out of nowhere

your gaze is back on levi and he’s now double checking the bandage on your ankle after tending to it

“you can’t walk for a few weeks.” he tsks

“be careful next time.” he’s always been blunt when he does show he cares and you warmly smile after not talking to him in days.

you feel the need to apologize again

“to make it clear i really am sorry, i should have thought more about you.”

he scoffs and rolls his eyes

“i’m overjoyed that my beautiful girlfriend doesn’t want to break up with me. now, stop moping around about it i’m over it.”

he scoops you up effortlessly and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“y/n, for the record, i’ll work on not jumping to the worst case scenario first.”

you love this aspect of your relationship

being able to understand how your flaws impact the other and choosing to make changes or adjustments

it’s sweet and you must be smiling like an idiot when thinking of it because levi blows a puff of air onto your forehead knocking you out of your daydream

feeling a little less light headed than before you notice he’s walking back out towards the courtyard

why is he doing that...?

“you’re walking in the wrong direction?”

“no i’m not.” he replies with a smug grin

oh my god

no he isn’t

oh my god

is he???

you’re bright pink in the face as you turn to look at him panicking when you hear hange’s group returning

eren can be heard arguing with jean as per usual and now you’re smacking levi’s chest even harder

“you don’t have to do this no, no, no. it’s okay really.” it’s funny how you’re begging him not to do what you’ve been waiting on for three days

but you really don’t want him to feel like he has to do this

as if he’s read your mind he replies. “i’m doing this with my own free will.”

he gives you one last grin and pushes you up against the wall, your back is against the cold yet solid surface and you tense up

oh god. it’s happening he’s diving down and it’s as if everything is moving in slow motion.

gradually you feel the familiar feeling of your heart jumping out of your chest

both of your lips mould together, he’s hoisting you up again preventing you from slipping away. hungry hands grip at your thighs and a knowing smile twitches across his mouth.

nipping at his bottom lip he groans and you nearly forget why it is he’s kissing you

that is until you hear a SCREAM from your right

“eren what the fuck are you yelling at?” jean’s voice can be heard scowling in the distance but you’re too distracted by levi’s mouth to care

eren must be speechless because nothing is heard until jean reaches the scene

“OH. MY. GOD.”

“WHERE IS REINER??? HE’S NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS.”

“you’re both overreacting.” mikasa makes her appearance and you’re not sure if she’s seen you and levi yet because your eyes fluttered shut long ago

“Y/N AND THE CAPTAIN????? WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE MIKASA??” eren’s voice sounds so distressed you guess you’re right for assuming he may have had a crush on you at some point

“it was obvious, i don’t know how no one else knew.”

finally levi pulls away and you’re panting practically gasping for any traces of air

“what you looking at brats?” levi snaps in their direction and mikasa nonchalantly shrugs and walks away

jean and eren however, dash away at LIGHTENING speed probably on their way to let everyone else know of the shocking new development

levi pecks your forehead and you nudge your nose against his.

since that day you and levi have been able to get away with a lot more pda

you can hold his hand and stare at how pretty your hands look laced together

you can nuzzle your face into his neck without any questions 

you can loop arms with him and even if he acts like he doesn’t enjoy it he genuinely does like walking around with you latching onto his bicep

although he still prefers the privacy of his office he’s more than happy to give in once in a while

and at the end of the day you’re ecstatic because there’s no more kissing behind your horse!!!

GONE ARE THOSE DAYS

wooHOO

honestly, you’re over the moon about it 

and so is levi

:-)

[missyasf]

Game Of Hearts

| 1 |

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 11k

___| Next

Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together! 

Side mention: This could be considered a prequel to the current Alice In Borderland. I’m writing based off the Manga bc I was a glutton and couldn’t wait no spoilers will be present as of...

Escapism

noun

the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy ♡ 

You had known all about this during your short lifespan, as a child you’d often play pretend with your sister that you were movie stars living in a five star hotel rather than the shitty busted up apartment on the wrong side of town. Escapism came in, many forms. It was often a way for people to cope psychologically, simply because sometimes, facing the reality of your situation can be too much for one person to handle mentally. 

Or at least, that was the topic of your lecture today in class. The human mind always fascinated you. Even at the young tender age when your mom died and you watched your once cozy little family fall apart piece by piece until nothing was left in its wake. 

It was your fascination that drove you now for most things, why? Why, why, why? You always wondered what the motive was behind someone’s actions, not only thing but you wanted to  understand them better, to try and sympathize. You were already fairly intuitive in nature. It wasn’t difficult to read people. In fact your line of work made it easy, you’d watch a man who would be excited to be with you reach for his left finger as if used to touching something. A wedding band perhaps? 

The lowlife cheater was fairly common in a whore house after all. Or the man who had been pissy this morning behind you in line because you had decided to try something new on the menu and you weren’t fast enough, obviously because he was tardy and woke up late, his shirt unbeknownst to him was button the wrong way and his tie loose and even the way his hair fell were all signs of being late to work. 

It was the little things you noticed in people’s facial expressions, the way they moved and spoke. You could read people like a book, and sure sometimes it was useful. But you often wished you weren’t so perceptive. It drove you mad knowing when a potential love interest was no longer interested through a simple text or a friend not wanting to talk by their tone. Sometimes you wished you could just blot it all out, still, you lived like this day in and day out, you were used to this kind of thing and honestly. Friends? Love? Your gaze dropped a little to your feet, the pumps you were wearing a jet black and the heel too high for any respectable woman to ever wear. 

...It wasn’t like you ever had any of those in your life and you had struggled to come to terms with the fact that you could survive without that kind of support. Still...it made you envious, the couple happily holding hands on the sidewalk. The group of friends all laughing at a table while they studied. Oftentimes these feelings are muted, but when you’re faced with something you’ve always craved, those muted feelings suddenly become hyperactive in your mind. 

It’s pathetic, honestly. 

“How dare you! You disgusting slut!” 

In this moment however, you were brought back to reality at just what was happening, you squeaked loudly as you dodged the shoe the woman had thrown at you. This was all a regular occurrence, you had a lot of regulars who weren’t the most amazing people but hey, money was money. But along with them they also left a trail which their wives and girlfriends always followed. And then they always blamed you instead of their partner for leaving them for a prostitute despite you never having agreed to anything such as that.

It really wasn’t your fault, you were just trying to make a living while juggling with keeping up your own education, paying your fathers debts, rent and still somehow getting food on the table. What part time college job could provide that?

Prostitution wasn’t a job you would’ve gone into willingly but given the past and your trauma that was already laced in it you had been learning that sometimes because of the trauma we experience, sometimes people go back to that same trauma and actively participate in it as a way of feeling like they’re in control. 

That whatever happened before, would never happen again if you were in control. You weren’t sure if you qualified under this category, trauma came in many forms but the one most used as an example in your class was that a study showed that women who were assaulted often develop a kink for consensual non consent as a way of coping with what happened, except this time, it’s in a controlled environment where it can end the moment they want it too. 

Again, you weren’t sure you fell into this category, but you often wondered if your line of work was intertwined with your earlier memories when you were younger, if anything it brought comfort to you. Much of it, blotted out now simply because your mind couldn’t take it. Trauma expressed through amnesia was also much more common than many thought, and it’s so small, so easy to miss. After all how can you be aware of something if you have no memory of it anymore?

“Security!” Your manager screeched, two of the bodyguards were already between you and the feral woman who was ready to gut you clean as she screamed hysterically, her husband...your regular....at her side trying to get her to calm down only for her to come to her senses and slap him clean across the face. You didn’t condone violence, but he did have it coming...

You weren’t about to justify cheaters, you couldn’t imagine the hurt someone had to feel that not only did their partner cheat on them, but it was with someone...like you...You had been trying not to put down your job occupation, sex workers were just as valid as anyone else...you knew you would’ve thought this way if it was anyone but you in this position. 

You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair, watching the couple get dragged out of the tight space of the brothel, “Jesus christ....didn’t you say you stopped using perfume because of this?” Miki, your manager sighed as she crossed her arms. You didn’t want to say your manager was your friend but she was the closest you had as you’d often complain to her about most of your problems. Sex work often attracted broken people, it wasn’t something she wasn’t used to. 

“Yeah, but apparently he never got around to washing his clothes…” You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, “Lipstick stain,” You glanced down at the ruby pink color that stained your skin now, “Fuck...that did hurt.” You rubbed your sore cheek that was still throbbing from where she had first slapped it when she ripped the door open of the room where she got to see with her own eyes you riding her husband. 

It had happened so many times now you weren’t even embarrassed about someone walking in let alone a partner. Miki gave you a lopsided smile as she patted your shoulder, “Guess that just pays for being one of the best here. Did you at least get paid.” 

You nodded, “Yeah, I always make them pay in advanced but I was hoping to get a tip afterwards...He was a lawyer so you know he had good money.” You sighed, crossing your arms, you were well aware of his partner because a lot of the time he didn’t even come in for sex anymore. It was funny how humans work. 

He often felt his wife was overbearing and you had suspected some sort of verbal abuse by the way he talked about her constant screaming. Truthfully, you don’t think he ever intended on cheating with her. He just wanted someone to talk to without being judged, you could relate with sympathy to that, but he unfortunately chose to walk into a brothel instead of a therapy clinic and this truly was the only inevitable outcome. Still, you hope if for anyone’s sake, he gets that divorce for himself. 

 “Hey I think I’m gonna call it a day. I need to get back to Nanami, she was wanting to talk to me about college applications.” You sighed as you rubbed your neck, ever since she had graduated high school she had been chomping at the bit to start applying for college, maybe to just get out of the house and into a dorm. You couldn’t blame her and if she did that it would lighten your load a little. 

Guilt washed over you at the thought as Miki chuckled, “They grow up pretty fast huh? My brother was the same way, except the moment he found out I was a sex worker was the moment he called me a whore and we haven’t talked since. That was probably about five years ago,” She crossed her arms as she sighed, “Crazy how the things we do for the ones we love, never appreciate our effort...I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

“If I’m not bruising.” You offered a weak smile as you nodded at her before going back to your room to get changed. Truthfully, you much like anyone else, often wished you could go to a world where reality wasn’t a concept any longer. Where you could lay out in the sun for the whole day and just soak up it’s rays with no worries or trepidations. 

But sooner then later everyone had to face their fears. Even you, you supposed. But no matter how hard you fought your demons, they always came back tenfold. Again, you supposed your story was no different from tens of thousands, and yet you all live on regardless. Maybe it’s you who should be the one seeking therapy. Pulling on your jeans and the cropped top over your head before pulling the jacket over your arms and grabbing your bag. 

The walk home was as quiet as ever, your hood over your head and earbuds any unwanted attention, it wasn’t too late at night, only eleven PM and your work had just been getting started but that had ruined the night for you and besides, you had already failed a test today, you could use the sleep tonight. 

Occasionally you’d hear the sirens of  a cop car passing by or a bystander shout, nothing out of the ordinary in this neighborhood. Walking up to the apartment complex you pulled the key from your bag as you unlocked the door. Quietly stepping insides as you shut the door before locking it once more. Your nose wrinkled at the smell of stale air mixed with rotten...something…

If anything, you were always lacking in something, you had been so busy most of the day that you never had time to clean anything leaving the house in a horrible state. Not that you thought this was much of a house. 

Walking down the narrow hallway you opened the rickety door with a missing lock as you gave a brief smile to the small clump of bedsheets. Your sister was curled up and on her phone, eyes darting to the door with a hint of fear before she jumped up, “Y/n! You’re home earlier from night shift already!?” 

You offered a smile as you set down your bag and nodded, sitting down on the mattress that laid on the floor as you replied, “Yeah, a coworker needed the extra hours so I let them cover for me tonight. Besides, you wanted to talk about college applications?” Your sister was under the impression your late night job was bartending at some hole in the wall downtown, where in all actuality you just went there to drink a few days and talk to the loud and sometimes obnoxious, but good hearted bartender who loved talking about his nerdy underaged friends that couldn’t do anything beside stay and drink soda. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t think your sister would accept you, if she knew what you were actually doing. Fear, most times came in many different forms and this was one of them. You simply didn’t want to be judged, even by her. So nobody in your life truly knew who you were, and therefore, how could you hold the expectation for people to accept you into society if you were already self sabotaging yourself? 

All philosophy aside, you were simply a lost soul, looking for your way in the cruel reality called life. 

“Yes!” Nanami was chipper as always as she squealed, clapping her hands, “I…! I was thinking about applying to the university you attend! Maybe I'll get a grant and move into the dorms there? I already applied for several jobs, I’m just waiting on a callback!” 

You offered a small smile as you hugged your knees to your chest, “I think you’d like it there, there’s lots to do around campus. But what will you go in for? The only advice I can offer is be sure it’s what you want to do.” 

Nanami’s face faltered a little as she hummed, “Well...I thought maybe working with animals? I’d love to be an assistant surgeon in veterinarian? I know it’s a pretty...sad job but...I really like the idea of being able to heal such innocent things.” Your smile tugged into a gentle one at your sister. She was too tender for this world.

It had been your goal sense the day your mother died that you took care of your sister, it didn’t matter what happened to you. You could rot for all you cared at the end of the day, all you wanted was to look up and see your sister's smile and her happiness in life blossom. She more than anyone deserved it. 

“I think you’ll be great at it.” You encouraged as you rested your chin on your hand, always happy to see her bounce in excitement as you yawned, your body was used to your demanding schedule but it was always more than happy to welcome a few extra hours of sleep.”

Hearing the door loudly slam close caused you both to jump, Nanami hurriedly crawled back in bed, pretending to be asleep as you frowned. Your dad must’ve come back home from wherever he was. 

“Y/n! Just stay here! Can’t you talk to him later?” Nanami looked scared, she always did when he was around. But you weren’t about to stand down to the bastard any day of the week, you offered a weak smile as you replied. 

“It’s fine Nami, I’ll be just a few minutes.” You replied, you knew that she knew, that was probably a lie. But you’d try your best, for her sake at least. But somebody had to put this guy in his place occasionally and it was always you. It results in a lot of screaming sometimes, other times he’d break down in tears or on a bad occasion you’d get shoved to the ground, a few times hit. Nothing major. 

Walking out of the room you leaned against the wall of the entrance of the hallway watching your father stumble around in the living room, “Did you finally talk to the loan company?” You called out as you asked, not in a forgiving mood tonight. He had said he’d do this for two weeks in a row. The company that sank your whole family into the ground. The reason your mother couldn’t take it anymore and put a blade to her wrist. 

Your father stood up, looking a little wobbly, obviously drunk, “Now listen here little girl I don’t have shit to own to you or anyone else.” You sighed as you tucked your tongue into your cheek, annoyance flowing inside you as you straightened up. You weren’t going to be bullied into being scared of this guy. 

“Actually you do,” Your smile twisted into something more sharp, more bitter and sinister as you walked forward, “See, if you hadn’t of gotten involved in something shady like loan sharks we wouldn’t be drowning in debt and mom wouldn’t have killed herself because of you and both your daughters wouldn’t hate you. I know you drink away all our money in some pathetic attempt to escape from the cold reality that you fucked up your whole life and watched your family slip from your fingers while not even trying to do anything other then put us in further shit,” You closed your eyes as you tilted your head, “But the least you could do, is admit that. You owe us at least that for being a total fuck up.” 

You opened your eyes to find pure rage brewing in your fathers eyes as you smiled once more, this time a false sense of sickly sweet tone to it as you shrugged, “Or you could live in denial, at this point, there really isn’t anything you can do to get anyone back ♡ ” 

You had turned around, planning to tell Nanami that maybe she should go sleep over at a friends house today but you never got the chance, suddenly being slammed into the wall and flecks of spit hitting your face, “I am your fucking father! I deserve respect from you and your worthless sister! Do you know how much I provide for you both?” 

Anger splintered through your veins as you grabbed onto his wrists, his fingers digging into your neck as you squirmed, “Like fucking what!? A shitty broken down apartment that your vacant from because you’re too fucking ashamed of yourself to even look at us sober!?” 

Much like years in the past you weren’t surprised to hear Nanami cry as she rushed out of the room at the sound of you both screaming, “Stop!” She cried out, trying to break you both up, “Stop! Don’t fight! Why…! Why can’t we all just get along!” She sobbed only for your dad to shove her down making her curl up in defeat. 

Alarm bells were triggered in your head at the sight of Nanami on the ground, she had never actually gotten hurt while in your sight and it was triggering something deep inside you as you watched him stalk up to her. Your hands shaking and rage boiling in your mind as you grabbed the closet thing you could find. An empty beer bottle on the table. 

Your vision blurred and you don’t quite remember what happened other than glass shattering over his head and the brute force of you shoving something before blood was stained on your hands. 

How did you end up sitting against the wall? Why was there….blood on your hands…? Your fingers trembled at the metallic sticky substance. All you could hear were Nanami’s sobs and cries as she frantically pushed herself away from the body slumped on the ground. 

“You…! He…!” Nanami’s eyes brimmed with tears as you heard a loud boom making you jump, your eyes darting to the open window where….fireworks, big and bold crashed and crackled before you felt like you were sucked into a vortex making your whole vision black out. 

Your head felt fuzzy and there was ringing in your ears as you groaned, curling up into yourself as the darkness beckoned you closer before you forcibly opened your eyes. You were laying against the hardwood floor. Beams of light streaked through the window and you could see dust particles in the air against the shower of sunshine that streamed in. 

...Wait...Light? The thought had perplexed your head enough to make you push up from the ground, memories pulling into your mind as your breath became shallow, suddenly looking to the side where...you slumped against the wall. It must’ve just been a bad dream….your eyes flickered to Nanami’s curled up figure...a really vivid dream…? Something wrenched in your gut as you rubbed your eyes. What happened? “Nami…!” You whispered, forcing your muscles to move despite their protest as she whined. 

After another moment she reluctantly opened her eyes, flickering around before she suddenly scrambled up, taking a deep breath as if realizing what had happened before, looking towards where your dad once was she frowned, “...I...What…” She seemed just as perplexed as you and if her face was anything to go by, last night had obviously happened, “Is dad…” She looked at the absent place of the floor. 

Leaning against the wall your eyes darted around the room, “I guess so…” You silently felt relief at knowing your dad was still very much alive as you leaned back as you closed your eyes, trying to remember what had happened before everything went dark...oh..! The fireworks...had it been a celebration last night? Your brows pinched together, something felt...off...getting up you opened the door to the apartment walking out. 

“Y/n? Y/n! Hey! Where are you going!” Nanami called out, quickly chasing after you as you frowned, cars were parked odd and there was no one out on the street...as in...at all...Something was very wrong and you couldn’t figure out what. 

“Wow...it..must be a slow day…” Nanami felt a sense of discomfort at the lack of life as you both walked down the side walk, it didn’t just feel like a slow day it felt, apocalyptic. As if humanity just left on it’s own leaving nothing but an empty city behind. Cars were parked on the curb and a few even left in the street.

“No, it’s like everyone vanished...This is really weird.” You wrapped your arms around yourself as you frowned, looking around as you came closer to where typically it would be a booming part of the downtown but it was empty, just as everything before. 

“Well, maybe it’s a national holiday?” Nanami rubbed her head, trying to make sense of the situation just as much as you, surely everyone wasn’t...gone...right? She looked around as she bit her lip, second guessing herself at all the cars that were vacant, “Hey Y/n.” 

You paused as you looked at your sister, curving an eyebrow as she offered a weak smile, “What if everyone got raptured away like they talk about in christanity?” Your expression flattened as she giggled, obviously getting a rise out of you as you crossed your arms. 

Raptured? Where? To heaven? “Wouldn’t it be fire and brimstone then if that was the case?” Nanami pouted at your words as you shrugged, snickering yourself at her expression, the tables now turned as you sighed, “I don’t think there’s anyone left in Tokyo...I mean, it feels like...we’d have seen someone by now...right?” 

“Well…” Nanami frowned once more, a little disturbed at your words as she spoke, “There’s no way everyone could be gone I mean, where would they go? And how could we miss something like that...Maybe the police found us and now we’re under some weird simulation.” 

Chills spilled down your spine as you shoved her making her whine, “Don’t say that! That makes me feel all weird…! I didn’t…!” You cut yourself off, you didn’t what? Murder your own dad in cold blood...you looked down at your hands, they were free of any blood but it still felt like something like sin lingered. Like no matter where you went, it would always be stuck to you.

You didn’t like this, not one bit. Briefly you felt the urge to go hunt down your dad, he was a deadbeat but you would never...you’d never kill him....Right?

“Well…” Nanami hummed her eyes scanning ahead before they jumped to the mall that was up ahead, “Hey…! If nobody is here...maybe we could make use of it! Come on! Let's go!” You yelped at her grabbing your arm before dragging you ahead. Cars were all parked and yet not a single person exited through the mall's entrance. Something just felt off! You wrapped your arms around yourself as you warily looked around the empty mall, “Nanami I really don’t like this!” You looked around, concern bubbling inside you as she ran ahead into the store, digging through the section of clothes as she giggled. 

“Relax! I doubt any of this is real and even so…! Who’s going to stop us!?” She shrugged as she bounced in excitement, “Oh my god! I had dreamed of something like this happening! Now we can do whatever we want! Go wherever we want! Y/n!” She gasped with a smile, “Now we don’t even have to worry about money!” 

“We don’t even know if this is permanent.” You looked around warily, not partaking as she began plucking off the racks, “Regardless of what this is, I don’t like it. I want to go back home, our home. This just doesn’t…” You shook your head, “This just doesn’t feel right.” 

“Well you can feel that way!” Nanami clacked her tongue as she gave a childish smile, “But I’m gonna go through this whole store and get a new wardrobe so feel free to sit on the bench and tell me what you think looks good!” 

Looking away you sighed, unable to pinch the anxious feeling you had away as you sat down reluctantly as Nanami went into the changing room. Well...at least she was smiling and she was happy...With each outfit Nanami tried out and giggled, you giggled with her and maybe things weren’t so bad after all…

“What a perfect day.” Nanami hugged you close as she sighed, yawning as you looked up at the sky in awe, you had seen a single star while living in Tokyo before, but now it was filled with constellations and millions of stars that stretched for miles. You could stare at it for days and days. The sun had just set a little over half an hour ago and you were ready to retire and find something to eat at the apartment. 

You and Nanami had tried going to the food court but much to your dismay everything had been...rotten...soiled and ruined, meaning there was no point in trying to find anything there and you were getting really hungry despite devouring bags of chips you had both got at the convenient store, another thing that stood out to you was that there was no electricity...at all..

Looking back up to the sidewalk something caught your eyes...was that…! Light!? “Hey! Nanami look!” You shook her making her squeak as she looked up ahead, “It’s the hospital! They have electricity there which means there’s other people! Of course! Why didn’t we think to check essential areas!? Come on! Lets go! I wanna figure out what happened.” 

“Alright! It sucks that this is already over but at least I can finally charge my phone, the battery is pretty low.” Nanami nodded in agreement as you both made your way up the road. 

The walk wasn’t too far and you felt excitement fill you at the sight of the hospital all lit up as you walked into the entrance, a frown slowly setting on your lips once more as you walked past the receptionist desk and…! Oh there’s other people! 

You felt relief wash over your as you ran up, there were at least seven other other people here at least! “Hey! Guys oh my god. I thought everyone was gone! What’s going on?” You asked, smiling bright in relief that you and Nanami weren’t the only ones left behind. Was this some kind of evac point or…?

Silence ensued and you slowly began to frown as you felt everyone stare at you as if you were insane, “Um…” You wrapped a hand around your arm, suddenly feeling as if everyone knew something you didn’t, “What’s going on…?” You furrowed your brows as you tilted your head, unsure of why everyone was looking at you like this. 

Somebody looked like they were going to talk to you, a guy relatively around your age but a woman stopped him- his girlfriend maybe? “Stop, the less that know the better chance we have.” She said quietly though you still heard just enough. Fear twisted inside you as you took a cautious step back...The...the less you knew? 

“Wow, you guys are assholes,” A girl suddenly whistled out, she was sitting in a waiting chair, a cowboy hat on her head paired with distressed jeans and...a bikini top? Strange but you’d roll with it if it meant getting answers. She stood up as she offered a smile, “Akari, nice to meet ya’. You folk must be new to the Borderlands huh?” She jutted her bottom lip a little as you frowned. 

“Um I’m Y/n and this is my sister Nanami...?” You introduced yourself despite feeling confused as you raised a brow, “Borderlands…?” You echoed, what was that supposed to be? Other than Tokyo?

Akari gave a nod as she let out a brief chuckle, as if amused by your confusion but you sensed she had no real ill will unlike....your eyes checked to the couple that stood off in the corner on their own, “That’s what they call it here,” She nodded in affirmation as your eyes darted back to her in confusion, “To be frank with ya’, I don’t have a damn clue what's going on. Nobody does. But ever since you crossed the threshold there’s no going back, so I’ll be brief. We’re all considered outsiders here and we participate in games at venues such as this to extend our stay.”

Nanami and you looked at one another confused as Akari waved you over to the table in front of a TV, “Here, you’ll wanna put these on, it’s for the game.” She explained as you carefully picked up the metal bracelet, something about it felt ominous as you reluctantly put it on, jumping at the way it latched together and there was no getting it off now, “Word of advice, just don’t panic and you probably won’t die.” 

“What?!” You screeched as Akari smacked your back, panic evident in your voice as you turned around to face her making her laugh again, this girl was insane! She had to be! “You’re…! You’re joking!” 

Akari wrinkled her nose as she tilted her head, “Ah shit, I wish I was- Oh…! There’s the last player!” Just on que everyone turned to look at who had arrived, someone heaving breaths with their hands on their knees as if they had sprinted. You were mildly worried at why he seemed so scared but you had a feeling that was the least of your problems right now.

“Y/n what’s going on…?” Nanami frightened grabbed your arm as she hid a little behind you due to all these immensing strangers that looked like they were ready to feed you to the sharks, literally. 

The guy walked past you both as he put on his bracelet, your eyes sharp as you watched it latch together automatically, your gaze jumping to everyone's wrists to notice you were all now wearing one. The TV suddenly lit up. 

Game 

You squinted your eyes a little at the sight of the screen, just what were you about to unwillingly participate in…?

Difficulty: 5♣

“The game you will be participating in is, Monster under the bed.”

A playing card? Monster under the bed? Your brows furrowed as you looked at Nanami who shrugged a little despite her concerned expression, looking just as confused as you. You could’ve made a joke out of this, surely it would’ve been easier. Maybe everyone would bust out laughing and you’d be at the end of a poor joke but...somehow you felt that wasn’t the case. Thus paying very close attention to whatever was on this screen, 

“Everyone will be sectioned off into pairs by the number chosen on your bracelet, when the doors to the ward open you will have three rounds ten minutes each to figure out who is the monster under the bed that must be returned to its own, once the ten minutes is up you must hide before you are found. If the selected pair that is the monster is chosen correctly it’s a Game Clear.  If the monster is not found by the end of the third round or if the pair fails to hide it’s a Game Over.” 

Rules: 

Once the doors are open you and your partner must find a hiding spot by the time limit

Both partners must be hidden. If one is exposed to the monster it’s a Game Over for both partners

There will be an X marked on the ground to place the monster of your guess onto. 

You will have three rounds of ten minutes each to find the monster.

Any attempt to remove bracelets results in a Game Over

If the monster is not found by the third round a Game Over.

The only Game Clear condition required is for the monster to be returned by the third round.

What…

What!? 

“Now the game will commence, you have five minutes to figure out who you have been paired up with before the doors open.”

Your mind was blanking as you watched everyone look down at their bracelet, hurriedly you lifted your arm as your mind blanked 2 looking back at Nanami her lips were already quivering as she sniffled lifting her arm in defeat as your lips dropped open, 5.

“Hey! Guess you’re my partner!” Akari grinned as she wrapped an arm around Nanami who sniffled, “Oh…” She looked between you both, “Oh! Oh don’t worry! We’re not the monster so I’ll make sure your sister lives! You should go find your partner.” 

Your hands trembled unsure of what to do before you went to hug Nanami, “Whatever happens just stay calm okay! I need to go find my partner now!” You whispered, kissing her cheek as she sniffled while nodding. 

Everybody was shuffling around looking for their partner now, you passed by a few people, 4, 1, 3...did you even have a partner…? You scanned around, your throat tightening a little in panic, there had to be a mistake! There were only 8 people surrounding you- you yelped at the tight grip that suddenly held your arm forcing you to turn around to be met with a white hooded figure, a lollipop handle hanging and earbuds in before sighing, “So it appears I’m stuck with someone useless.” The man concluded as he stood up making you back away a little as your lips parted somewhat indignantly. 

How...how rude! You looked up, unable to fully make out his face but you could tell you didn’t like him one bit, “I’ll…! First of all I’m not useless! I’m just trying to understand what's going on! This is insane! We aren’t actually going to die from this, are we!?” Pushing his hood down you were immediately met with a snide gaze and cat eyes that leered at you like you were nothing more then dirt beneath his feet, long blonde hair pushed behind his shoulders and his bangs hanging low, suddenly a viscous side smile appeared on his lips, “Apparently so, otherwise I wouldn’t have watched half my last game get their brains blown out and the other half hung.” 

You reeled a little away from the blonde, your face dropped in semi horror, unsure if this was just a sick joke or he was serious. You searched his face a thousand times over, but for the first time in your life, you couldn’t figure out what his goal was. You couldn’t figure out anything about him, except he was exceptionally cold, “Well I don’t suppose I have much choice to doubt you,” He said with an annoying sing song tone as he rattled his wrist that showed the bracelet with a matching 2 on it, “My name is Chishiya, just stay out of my way and we’ll both live.” 

How arrogant! You scoffed as he walked past you, not the least bit bothered at your offense as you whipped around, glaring at his back. How come out of everyone you got stuck with the most…! Pompous! Arrogant! Ugh! You crossed your arms as you followed behind him, stilling secretly sending daggers into his back with your eyes as everyone shuffled into the ward. 

Hospital beds were scattered around the room, a few closets and one large vent at the bottom right corner of the room ahead. 

“Wait, what is this?” The first person to speak was a fair thin older gentleman, he appeared friendly as he observed the room around him, everyone looked around in confusion as you noticed what he meant. 

Any possible hiding spot was covered by either sheets of metal or locked tight...How were any of you supposed to hide if…!? The rules mentioned nothing about solving puzzles to gain access to a hiding spot!

“Forget that,” Another man said with a sneer he was broad and a bit older, well into his late twenties at least, perhaps a gym coach? Or maybe a wrestler of some sort? He looked like he could break you and nearly every other person in this room like a twig, “We need to figure out who’s the monster. “ He cracked his knuckles as you leered a little away and nobody spoke for a second. 

Of course, who would out themselves as the monster, more importantly, how does one even know they’re the monster? You could immediately feel tension rise as the previous, more patient man spoke, a little more collected, “How about we just check one another's’ watches! If anywhere it would show us on that! One pair should work on solving these puzzles here so everyone has a place to hide” 

“Unless the monster is among us and it sabotages us so we all die by the time limit.” The girlfriend crossed her arms as she darted her eyes around. Truthfully you didn’t know what to believe, the wording on the soundbox was rather confusing as to just what were you looking for. Was the monster supposed to be in the group or it’s own entity?

“If that were the case it would’ve showed up on our watches, which it didn’t. So that won’t work.” Chishiya spoke matter of fact, his tone cool as his eyes gazed across the room before he walked away from the group inspecting various hiding spots granted you didn’t think he was about to help anyone but himself, if anything you were at least lucky that him securing a hiding spot meant it was one for you as well. 

You looked at everyone in confusion, some arguing while others scattered to look for a hiding spot as the clock ticked down. You breathed in relief at the sight of Nanami and Akari both going for a bed to hide under. Your gaze finally found Chishiya’s form before following him, unsure of what you were supposed to do, if anything outside trying to figure out just what the monster even was. 

You glanced up at the digital clock that stood above the entrance you had just come in from, it was already a minute in before you searched the floor where you found a red X in the center of the room, that must’ve been the...what? Offering spot? You cringed a little at the idea. Looking forward you peered behind Chishiya’s shoulder deciding to not think about that, it seemed the metal sheet that had wrapped around the bed and was sealed to the ground was locked by some sort of metal device…? Contraption? Lock?

“Isn’t hiding under a bed a bit obvious…?” You frowned as you crossed your arms, unsure as you looked behind your shoulder once more to where accusations were already being thrown in the group. 

“The vent is a decoy to make you waste time, I already checked,” Chishiya replied, his fingers nimble as they rattled the metal, “And even if someone were to accomplish it in the time limit it’s the most obvious spot the monster would first check. Next would be the closet given it’s at eye level and the first thing one is drawn too when they walk into a room.” 

Your lips parted a little in surprise at his assessment...obviously he wasn’t just overconfident, “And why this spot?” If he had really thought about all this in less than a minute then...did he have a reason for this spot? You now found yourself, slightly less annoyed and a little more curious as to what was going on in his mind. 

“If the monster were to check a bed it would be after his eyes are drawn to the closet. Next in that line of sight would be the vent directly across it, which would be his next place to look if not his first and vice versa. The beds are all staggered throughout the room making them less conspicuous compared to the other hiding places, the bed on the far end of the room would be no good.” 

Your brows furrowed in curiosity at his assessment as you watched Chishiya blow a piece of hair from his face, wiggling out one piece of the knotted metal, “It’s too far from the entrance where as the one in the middle is by average the one most people would start with, where as the first? It’s almost too soon in the start to look there thus making it the safest.” 

“It’s them! They’re over there conspiring!” You both twisted around to watch the broad man point an accusing finger at you both as your eyes darted from him to the clock on the wall, which read at six minutes. A few other pairs, relievingly so was your sister had started working on a hiding spot while a few others stood around and argued. 

Your face coiled a little as you replied, not appreciating the accusation to such a baseless accusation, did they not realize the longer they argued the less time they had to secure a hiding spot? “Someone who’s terrible at playing the minority would often be the first to point fingers. There’s only six minutes left before the first round is over and we need to hide. But if you want to talk about this then sure,” 

You stepped closer as you crossed your arms, scanning over him before continuing, “Let’s talk about the chances of you being the monster, ever since you first came in you’ve been all twitchy and acting like something is wrong. Even when we first got paired up, you seemed a little panicked. Anyways,” You turned around as you spoke, “How do we know one pair is a monster and not one single person?” 

“Eh,” Akari sat on the bed that her and Nanami chose as Nanami fumbled to work out the puzzle, she had always been good at those! You felt assured as your heart beat frantically at the idea of them not being able to get a hiding spot in time, “Let’s all calm down,” She gave an awkward laugh, “This isn’t a hearts game, we shouldn’t divide our trust. This is a team building after all which means this game should be making us work together, the last thing we need to do is throw that away on our own accord.” 

“...Team building?” You frowned as you murmured having not been aware that this was some sort of game category...Hearts? Clubs? The memory of the playing card flashing on the screen appeared in your mind again, right...was that to stand for some kind of game genre? If Clubs stood for team building then...there should be no reason that the monster is any of you. Why would they even suggest that to begin with?

Then...what was the monster? 

“One minute remaining.”

The lights suddenly began flickering, “Got it.” Chishiya yanked the last piece of metal undone as he pulled the sheet of metal off, everyone was now scrambling and the few who had not done their puzzle were now panicking. Getting down you crawled under the bed, your back flat to the ground as you inhaled sharply as you noticed the lights beginning to dim, “This is...uncomfortable.” You mumbled, trying to ignore being pressed shoulder to shoulder with a man you didn’t even know besides him having a god complex, “We should’ve went with the vent.” 

“By all means, if you want to try and get yourself killed already. Go for it.” You turned to look at him, dark endless cat eyes meeting you as you harshly glared at him, why was he so condescending!? 

You were about to snap back something before you realized it was completely dark and the door slammed open causing you to jump. Was your heart always this loud? You could see the heavy boots step against the ground making you unsteadily inhale, swallowing as you closed your eyes. You could only place your trust that Chishiya hadn’t picked a horrible spot. 

More importantly your mind was plagued with worry for your sister, you had been so caught up you hadn’t even tried to help her yet...did she even…! You heard a sudden loud scream from two people causing you to stiffen as you looked up at the bed frame lined with wooden planks. You could only cower back down at blood suddenly painting the floor.

Your stomach suddenly churned as you covered your mouth. So he wasn’t lying. Chishiya however looked just as nonpulsed as he did when he first told you himself, his eyes blankly staring up at the bed frame as if this was just a regular game of hide and seek as people screamed as they were torn apart. 

Or that’s at least what you assumed it was. 

After an agonizing few minutes the doors finally closed and the lights flickered back on making you breath in relief as you waited a moment, could you even bear to face what was waiting on the floor? You winced a little before something caught your eye. What was with all this extra wood stuck in the frame? 

Chishiya had already gotten out from under the bed and before you suddenly heard a few girls scream, your sister among them making you puff and breath as you scrambled from beneath the bed.

Standing up your mouth agape at the horrid sight of the female and the broad male that had been too focused on accusing others, they didn’t have...enough time...it looked like they had been completely mutilated, blood pouring on the floor and the smell made you want to gag as you looked away. 

“Well, now what do we do.” Akari scratched her head, also not looking phased that two people had just been brutally killed. Your eyes stayed placed on the bodies before they slowly trailed to your hands, the memory of blood staining them still fresh in your mind. 

“Well we have to figure out where the monster is?” The girlfriend of the couple spoke up, she looked around somewhat suspiciously, “But I’m not sure where we could find it? Maybe it has to do with the bracelets? Maybe there’s a clue hidden.” 

“Oh what about in the cabinets?” The collected man from before offered as he went to search the cabinets, your frown furthered as you glanced around. Everyone was now getting along, still on edge but along at least. 

Chishiya only leaned against the wall, his hands in his pocket as he rolled the lollipop in his mouth, his gaze the same steely one it was before as if he had done his job in securing his temporary salvation and was now done. 

Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do? It was obvious his strength didn’t lie in teamwork, clearly. But then again, you weren’t sure what was going on, you couldn’t get a read on him. Crossing your arms you stayed beside him, your eyes briefly washing over your sister who was working Akari to dig through a desk together. 

“Cabinets and drawers are too obvious.” 

Chishiya’s eyes flickered to your figure, his expression just as cold if not...a little smug maybe? He said nothing in return as you continued, “If we’re looking for a monster, it’s obvious it’s a metaphor for something. Inanimate most likely,” Your eyes flickered around the room, inhaling sharply, why did it feel like the answer was right in front of you? 

Think…! You glanced at the clock, only six minutes left. The rounds were really short…! “It’d be something small and inconspicuous, something that’s in plain sight….but easy to miss...and the game said it was a pair which means there’s more than likely two.” 

“Three,” You glanced at Chishiya as he spoke, pulling the lollipop from his mouth, that permanent smug look on his face as he answered, “Two is what they want you to think and if you spend a round searching for each like they hope it’s game over by three.” 

You rubbed your neck as you frowned, “It’s already the second round and we haven’t even found one…” You glanced around before you suddenly perked up, “Wait…!” Getting back down on the floor you laid on your back as you pushed yourself under the bed, “Chishiya! Help me get this thing out!” 

Within a moment the blonde appeared as well, his eye sharp and keen as they noticed straight away what you were tugging at, “You think this is the monster?” 

You looked at him as you raised a brow, “We have less than four minutes left on our second round, you have a better idea?” Chishiya said no more but helped regardless, successfully with the both of you maneuvering it around from beneath the wooden boards you managed to get it out. 

Holding it up you looked at it, “It’s a poppet doll.” You turned to face him as you smiled in accomplishment, “They’re typically used as curses to place upon people in folklore. If anything is a monster, this would be it.” 

Excited at your first victory you pulled out from beneath the bed as you waved it up, “Hey guys! We need to start looking for something similar to this! If not a replica.” Everyone huddled around you examining the doll before the microphone sounded, “One minute remaining.”

Everyone had immediately scrambled back to their hiding place as you ran to the red X, placing the poppet on it, that's the reason that had to be there right!? You’d just have to see, hurriedly you ran back to your spot under the bed. Making it just in time as the lights flickered off. 

The door slamming open once more as you slowly inhaled, it had to work right? If not...then you were at a loss for what to search for and you were utterly screwed. 

The boots stomped against the floor past the bed as you closed your eyes, unable to calm yourself. After a moment you heard a screech and something rip open before screams followed making you jump. Chishiya’s eyes were on the feet that stood by the closet that had been obviously ripped open. 

You heard the sound of something wet and a gurgle before a body slumped to the floor and you could hear begging before something got snapped in half causing you to close your eyes once more...Did you make it angry!? Was that not it? Fuck. You had never felt this stressed before as it roamed around, passing in front of your bed as you tensed.

Was this your last moment alive? Truly? 

Much to your relief, the door closed once more before the lights followed, flickering on, relaxing a little you sighed as you reluctantly got out from underneath the bed with Chishiya to see what had happened. Much to your horror it was the man who had been so kind this whole game and his partner. 

The monster didn’t check anywhere in the first round, yet he did this round? You tried to block out the bodies slumped in the corner as you glanced at the red X, the poppet doll gone. 

“Why- why were they killed!” Nanami’s eyes began to water as she grabbed her head, “This makes no sense!” 

“If it accepts the doll that means we only need two more. What happened to them is irrelevant.” Chishiya stuffed his hands back into his pocket as you glared at him sideways, not appreciating his careless tone. You could deal with it, but you didn’t want your sister dragged into it. 

Grabbing your chin you thought about it for a moment, “Well...the game said to return the monster to its own and…” You glance down at the X, was there some kind of unsaid rule that if you didn’t get all three of them on the first try that it would start hunting down players? “How would a mother feel if they only returned one of its children?” 

“This thing doesn’t have feelings,” The girlfriend of the partners replied coldly, her eyes like steel of her own as she clung to her boyfriend, “It’s as he said,” She waved to Chishiya, “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be like them if we don’t figure this out.” 

You glanced around the room, “Tell me this, if it doesn’t matter, then why did they give us all these different hiding spots?” Everyone was silent, all eyes on you as if your question didn’t make any sense, your eyes flickered to the clock that was nearing eight minutes, you didn’t have time to monologue, “No think about it. The monster never intended to look for us- that was never stated in the rules. So why did they give us all of these choices if we only needed one per pair? My point being, if we found one poppet in our hiding spot then...You get where I’m going with this? Chishiya.” 

He glanced up at you acknowledgement as you curved a brow, your lips threatening to tug into a smile as you tilted your head, “How confident are you in solving that vent?” 

He glanced back down and for the first time, you watch a cocky wide smirk twist onto his lips, “You’re lucky to have someone as smart as me here to be able to open it.” You tucked your tongue into your cheek as in annoyance as he sauntered over to the vent already getting to work, “As for everyone else, we need to open up as many of these as possible to find the other two.” 

Everyone immediately scrambled to get to work, with only seven minutes on the clock this was...going to be difficult. First Nanami and Akari searched all the opened spots as you worked on another bed. Rubbing your head as muttered, “Shit...I never was good with puzzles.” You awkwardly hung your head in defeat temporarily, briefly letting your eyes shift to Chishiya who was fiddling with several locks, his gaze sharp and you couldn’t even imagine all the calculations going on in his mind. You were somewhat envious of what it would be like to be that perceptive to anything adhering to logic and solution. 

“Aha! Found one!” Akari yanked the poppet from the top of the closest as Nanami covered her mouth, looking like she was gonna throw up being so close to so many dead bodies. You ignored the grisly sight at the second victory of the poppet doll. Akari quickly placed it on the X as you began to work on the puzzle once more, looking up at the clock. Oh no...Oh no there was only three minutes left!

“Chishiya! Hows that puzzle coming along.” You called out, trying not to sound alarmed but you could see the clear cut annoyance on his face as he continued working through the locks, “If you’d like to help while struggling on a novice lock feel free.” He replied condescendingly, not appreciating the pressure. 

You rolled your eyes with huff as you finally managed to get it undone, feeling triumphant as you searched under the bed but there was no luck, “There’s nothing here!”

“Or here!” 

Several people called out as well as you rubbed your head, standing up, “If the only other place that hasn’t been searched is the vent then maybe there’s only two? It did say a pair.” You felt a lump of anxiety well in your chest at the sight of the clock ticking close to a minute and half. 

“Should we really take the risk?” The boyfriend asked as he rubbed his neck, concern on his face as he looked around, “If we’re wrong then we’ll all…” 

You hadn’t even thought of that…

“...! Hey.” You turned to Chishiya who seemed to be trying to get your attention making you immediately come over, if he was asking for you it’d have to be for something important given there was nearly less then two minute on the clock, “Hold this right here.” He immediately pushed your hand onto the lock right where he wanted it, “This is a two handle mechanism meaning that there needs to be two people unlocking it. Push down and out at the same time.”

“Hide! Everyone needs to hide now!”

The lights were beginning to flicker as everyone scrambled to hide, stress evidently put on your shoulders now more than ever. You could only hope he was right with your life on the line, “Now!” You pushed down on your side, the lock sliding as you pulled out, pulling a piece of metal holding up the lock directly out as Chishiya did the same with his side. 

The lock fell off as well as the metal of the gate of the vent, you immediately with no hesitation leaned inside it was dark and hard to make it out anything besides the steep drop off. So he was right, this was a waste of time for a hiding place. 

Looking down you caught sight of wood before laughing in relief, “It’s here! Wait shit! Chishiya! It’s too far down in the vent, you’re gonna have to lower me down to reach it. Time?” 

“Forty five seconds.” You felt unfamiliar hands on your hips lifting you up as you were lowered down, “We have time.” 

You squinted trying to see as you reached down, “Lower me further! I’m not quite in reach,” Your muscles began to ache in your shoulder as you reached harder, growling in frustration, “Time!?” You were lowered a little further, the wooden poppet brushing against your fingers. 

“Thirty seconds! Could you go a little faster?” 

“Could you lower me a little quicker- Ah! Hey did you almost let go!?” You snarled back, grabbing the poppet doll, giving a good yank as it lodged in between the crevice it was in, “Get me back up! I got it. Time!” 

“Twenty seconds.” Chishiya called back, pulling you up as you gasped, pain from the metal jabbing into your stomach evident as you were met with a darkening room. Setting your feet firmly on the floor your eyes flew to the flock fifteen seconds and your spot was all the way across the room….! 

“Where are we supposed to hide!? We can’t get all the way there in time!” You hissed out running to the X as you dropped the poppet down. The lights shut off as the final five seconds counted down and before you could do anything you were shoved to the floor as you squeaked. Your body throbbing in pain and your mouth immediately covered as you were met with the coverage of a bed but neither one of you were bold enough to try and scramble beneath it as the doors slammed open. 

Fuck.

Your whole body was tense as your eyes squeezed shut, you were just a little ahead of the X here, if this is all the poppet dolls...they’d have no reason to go further into the room...unless...Your hand squeezed tight around the wrist of the hand that covered your mouth as you tried to calm yourself at the loud thudded footsteps. 

It was quiet for a moment before you heard more walking before the doors closed. 

“Game Cleared”

The lights turned on as you fell limp against the side of the bed, Chishiya’s hand removed from mouth as you pushed your hair from your face, closing your eyes as you breathed in relief, “Holy shit.” Was all you could mutter to yourself, you had never been more grateful to breathe air in your whole life. 

“I guess you weren’t that useless after all huh.” Chishiya clacked his tongue as you turned your head to look at him, raising your brows as your face contorted into something between insult and amusement. 

You’ve only known this man for a half an hour and yet...something about his words, if you dug down deep past that smug expression of his, was this a compliment? Looking away you pressed your tongue into your cheek, trying to keep from smiling, “Yeah, and you’re still conceited and arrogant but, I guess you have a good reason to be.” You glanced back at him again but you could hardly hold his gaze, something in that brief moment was electrified between you both as you laughed somewhat sheepishly, closing your eyes as you looked away once more. 

What the fuck was even wrong with you? If this was back before today you would’ve totally kicked this guy in the balls and went about your day.

“Y/n!” You straightened up at the sound of Nanami’s voice, your expression brightening as you stood up, quickly running to her as you hugged her tight, “I can’t believe that just happened…” She whispered to you as she pressed her face into your neck. You couldn’t either but, you were thankful you had survived this game. Whatever it was. 

“Come on, let's get out of this room.” You tugged on her arm, no longer wanting to be in this death room despite knowing it was all over. Pulling her out you paused at the sight of the TV and a...register…? You bracelet unlocked as you took it off, tossing it on the table as you tilted your head. 

“Congratulations Game ''Clear ``.''

“...Now issuing visas to those who survived the game…?” You furrowed your brows as you glanced at Nanami who rubbed her head in confusion. You grabbed the receipt as you looked it over with a frown before picking up the 5 of clubs playing card along with it. Odd. 

“It’s how many days you’re allowed to stay now! Almost a whole week, that's a good score for a first game!” Akari called out as she patted your back making you jump a little. 

Almost a whole week…”Until we have to play again to...continue our stay?” You raised a brow, deciding not to ask what happens if you refused. While you had many questions, you had a feeling you knew the answer to that one. 

A part of you couldn’t even believe this had happened, or was it all still a dream. 

“Hey…! Sorry for all of that in there,” You turned to see...oh…! It was the boyfriend of the partner, the gifrlfriend stayed behind looking brooding, “I’m Ryu and that’s my girlfriend Hiroko I was...ah…” He faltered a little, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flittered to his girlfriend who was glaring him down, “You should stop by the Beach- I...I think you guys would make good additions! Bye!” He hurried not even finishing his original sentence before scurrying off making you furrow your brows at what he even meant. 

“The hell?” Akari raised a brow as she watched the guy run off, “Seems to me he wanted to chat more…guess we know who's really pulling balls in that relationship.” 

Nanami suddenly snickered, covering her mouth as she giggled, “Hey Akari! Why don’t we stay together! We did really well in the game together!” 

“Awh shit, if you guys really want me too!” Akari offered a quirky smile as you laughed, you had no problems with someone staying behind with you. Looking past Akari your smile faded a little at the sight of a white hoodie exiting the entrance. 

“Hey- I’ll be right back!” You pushed past the both of them who paid you no mind as you pushed out of the exit and down the stone steps, not sure why your feet were making you chase after such an egotistical man but…!

“Chishiya!” You called out, making the man pause, he turned around, pulling the earbuds out as he glanced up from his hoodie, raising his brows in acknowledgement, “Um…” Why did you even chase after him…? You stepped down the last step as you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

It was silent for a moment as you berated yourself internally for why you seemed so speechless all of a sudden. Chishiya however didn’t seem to mind, his eyes absent now as he stared up at the hospital, “I used to do my clinical rotations here.” 

You were broken out of your silent thrashing of internal humiliation as you raised your brows, lips parting in curiosity as you asked, “You were a doctor?” 

“No,” Chishiya snorted, that amused calico look of his on his face once more as he looked down at you, “I was a medical student. Training to be a doctor but that obviously didn’t happen…” His lips curved into a frown, his eyes cold once more as they looked back up at the building, “I came here tonight to see if anyone I knew would be here.” 

“Oh…” You looked away, feeling somewhat awkward and unsure of how to reply to him as silence took over once more beside the occasional rustling of the wind in the tree’s, the urge to speak overtaking you to the point you couldn't resist, “Chishiya...I…” You looked away, feeling somewhat bashful, “We...made a really good team back there.” You forced yourself to look up at him as you offered a bright yet subtly shy smile, “If you want...you could stay with us…?” 

Chishiya pulled the lollipop stick from his mouth, letting it drop to the ground as he spoke, “No thanks.” You turned to him in surprise as you frowned a little, you shouldn’t have expected anything less…

“Oh...I understand.” You offered a weak smile as he turned his back on you and began to walk once more, “I just have one more question,” You called out causing him to pause, “...Do you by any chance know about a place called the Beach?”

Note: Whew...! As a lurker in the Alice in borderland fandom I saw a lot of people complaining about the lack of Chishiya fics so I decided to volunteer myself and take on for the team to write a series for this little blonde fucker so PLEASE let me know your thoughts and I hope you enjoy!! Also

[crushng-a]

YOUR ROLE. | the hero villain

so we meet again, don't we? pity, I hoped our reunion would never occur. oh, pardon my discourtesy would you? but I really find tyrants unpleasant to the mouth. "sic semper evello mortem tyrannis." I have seen many before you fall, and I will see many after you descend as well. oh don't give me that hateful sneer, you more than anyone should know the expanse of my kindness, but vain little heroes are but villians in different shoes. you grew up wishing to prove yourself, you were good once, or I thought you were. maybe you were born nasty. you strove to reach the stars, for you felt unworthy. ha, perhaps you were onto something. you pushed those you saw as dirty into the dirt, face down in the name of righteousness. but one does not merely hate for hatred itself. all abhorrence stems from fear. you call yourself a savior to merely stomp on the ones beneath you. would you like a bitter truth? no one's beneath you, some just strike more worry into your heart. are they better than you? as much as I'd adore saying yes, there might still be hope for you yet. after you swallow a few slices of humble pie, and wake up to reality. you cannot force anyone to change. you cannot force anyone to do anything. it is as simple as that. reality has very few set rules and somehow even then people find a way to break them. you're not a god, little beast. it's time you stopped acting like one, for one day a real god will smite you where you stand, and they will be disguised as the "lesser" people you mock so bitterly.

‘tagged’ by @rosetintedgunman. if u see this you’re morally obligated to tag me if u also do it. i AM tagging @actliving bc i’m picturing marcus saying this

[bakugoshrimp]

Heavy Hearts & Endless Starts

Where Bakugo and y/n have a huge fight and the aftermath of it.

Pairing: Bakugo x female!y/n (both are aged up and pro-heroes)

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: So uhh this is my first time writing something in years, and my first time ever actually getting the guts to publish it online. As a result, constructive criticism is welcome, but please be kind about it! Totally didn’t write this bc I don’t wanna study for my midterm tmrw

You thought it was just a normal fight. You were both stressed from the recent influx of villains and both had a lot on your plate. The pressure built up inside until you just couldn't handle it, and apparently neither could he. Bakugo had stormed out hours ago, muttering how he "couldn't deal with all this bullshit", and just left. 

Hours you remained, simmering in your anger and worry and stress. It wasn't until when you woke up at dawn the next day in an empty bed and the unpleasant feeling of guilt rolling in your gut. 

Getting dressed, you headed for the Ground Zero Agency, but the #2 Hero was nowhere to be found. 

With a worse feeling in your stomach now, you headed to your own agency, hoping to find a villain to fight along the way that might help you release all this pressure inside.

It wasn't until midnight when Bakugo trudged in, boots muddy and still in his hero suit, a dead look in his eyes as he tiredly locked the front door, and began shucking off his wet boots, gloves, and other accessories. 

You were curled up on the loveseat, half asleep and already dressed in a comfortable oversized sweater that you had stolen from your boyfriend, a mug of hot chocolate warming up your cold hands as you waited for him to come home. 

"Katsuki?" you ask hesitantly, "Are you okay?" 

The only reply you got was the faltering of his hands, before they resumed their work of removing his suit. 

You decided to leave it alone; hoping that the next day, things would be better. 

"Good night." you murmured, brushing past him and heading to your shared room, your tears already falling as you tucked yourself into your bed. 

Confrontation was never your strong suit; it was always Katsuki who loved confrontation. But the loud temperamental hero was uncharacteristically quiet, and it was all your fault. 

A week passed by, and nothing changed other than the tension between you two. Everyday was the same: you'd wake up in an empty cold bed, your boyfriend already heading off to work hours before dawn, leaving you to your thoughts as you head to your own agency. Coming home was the same, he'd come uncharacteristically quiet and you would head to bed feeling more hopeless and guilty. 

It wasn't until news had come rushing in: the famous #2 hero of Japan. Ground Zero, was suspended of his hero duties and nearly arrested for nearly killing 15 petty villains, all of them under life support and in critical condition. 

That's when you truly realized the extent of your mistake, and what you had to do to fix it.

"Where are you taking me?" His gruff voice never failed to pull at your heartstrings, despite not avoiding you for a week. 

You were leading him by the hand, a blindfold on his eyes. 

You had managed to ambush him when he came home early from his suspension, and kidnapped managed to convince him to come with you. 

You suddenly stopped walking, causing Bakugo to walk right into you. 

"HEY WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOIN-" Bakugo's rough voice barked, so at odds with the quietness of the scenery. 

"Sorry," you smiled, suddenly nervous and jittery. "You can take your blindfold off now." 

The sight that met his eyes almost took his breath away, despite it's familiarity. They were at a cliff, much similar to the one he took you years ago, the forest below a rainbow of colours, and the air crisp and cold in the fall weather. 

The sight that truly left him breathless, was the woman in front of him, smiling at him nervously with an apology in her eyes.

His heart constricted painfully in his chest as he remembered the harsh words thrown that night, but he couldn't bring himself to look away, mesmerized in her eyes. Despite all that's happened, he's still as smitten with her, and the week apart had hurt him more than it hurt her, her words playing in his mind like a broken record. 

 Your lips moved, forming words that he couldn't quite catch as his mind replayed everything that they were and everything that had happened. You looked at him expectantly, causing him to snap back into reality. 

 "....Huh?" was the only thing that came out of his mouth, his mind forming a blank as he tried to remember what you had just said. 

You nervously tucked your hair behind your ear and looked down at your feet. "I said Let it all out. The pain, the anger, everything. Just let it out." You said a bit clearer, looking up at him. 

He smiled faintly with nostalgia, remembering when he did the same exact thing to you and said the same exact words, years ago. 

You had screamed and cried and, when your voice went hoarse, you just whispered everything you had held in for years. You whispered the rest of the pain out. 

So he turned to the edge of the cliff, looked at the sunset, and yelled. His voice was ripped out of him, cracking. He roared his pain, his frustrations, and his hurt out. 

Too soon, he was done. He didn't feel done, but he was. He had no more to say, the knot in his chest loosening, letting him breathe properly for the first time in a week since that fight. 

Turning back to you, he found you on your knees, shoulders shaking from the force of your silent sobs. 

"I'm sorry." It was like a dam had broken inside of you, the waves of regret, worry, and sadness just washing over you. "I'm so sorry. It's my fault I didn't mean it I'm sorry I really didn't mean it 'Suki I'm such a goddamn dumbass I didn't mean it at all I'm so sorry-"

His quiet laughs interrupted you as he sat down next to you, bringing his arm around you, and tucking your head onto his warm chest. 

"Yeah, yeah you are. You're the biggest dumbass, but you're my dumbass." He said, your hair slightly tickling his nose as he bent down to gently kiss it. "I love you too, and we'll figure it out together." 

The vibrations of his chest had calmed your blubbering down to a peaceful quietness as you both simply enjoyed each other's presence and the comfort of relief of each other, the previous building tension gone completely. 

It wasn't until long after the sun had set and the moon had risen did you both decide to go back to the car to go home. 

Rising from your position, you stretched and straightened, looking over at the man next to you. 

Seconds later he caught you staring, his red eyes filled with amusement. You refused to blush, instead opting to waggle your brows at him. "Race you to the car?" 

"Oh you're f***ing on. On my mark-" 

But you were already running, giggling as you ran ahead. "LAST ONE OUT WILL HAVE TO DO THE DISHES" you called out from behind you. 

"WHY YOU LITTLE-" is all you heard before the telltale sounds of his explosions, clearly using his quirk to his advantage, and within seconds was ahead of you. 

All you got was a glimpse of his smirk and his trademark "DIE" as he zoomed past you. 

By the time you had reached the car, you were panting and sweaty, a smug Bakugo already in the driver's seat, waiting for you. 

"You cheated!" You accused crossly as you hopped into the toasty car. 

"Oi, it's not cheating when you head a head start, dumbass." He said, a sly smile thrown your way, his ruby red eyes twinkling in amusement. 

You couldn't keep the smile spreading across your face even if you tried as you hmphed and looked away. 

I think everything will be just fine

So uuhh Yeahh >_<. Thoughts?

[kuiinncedes]

relight that spark

jatp au - chapter 1 - part 2/15? - 9,385 words

the prologue/part 1 (tumblr link) if you missed it!! (ao3 link) :D

so obviously this is pretty slowly updating already and it probably willll get worse 🤪 i might post the next part in like a week tho, it's not a full "episode" chapter and i already have it fully written and i'm pretty happy with it 😗✌️

this chapter is pretty long and i apologize for that bc i know i get annoyed when i have to stop in the middle of a long chapter and then my phone like loses my spot or whatever lakdshgjfs but idk how else to do it so .. just have my apology lol sorryyy <3 the next "episode" chapter is looking to be longer tho sdlkhglsj

LASTLY BUT NOT LEASTLY A HUGE MASSIVE FUCKING THANK YOU TO MEG @neversatisfiedwithlife FOR BETA READING THIS FOR MEEEE AND BEING SO SUPPORTIVE AND WONDERFUL LOVE YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SM 💞💖💓💗💕

chapter title and lyrics in this part from "wake up" from the julie and the phantoms soundtrack (whichhh if you haven't heard it... you should listen to it after reading maybe 👀)

plot and a lot of the dialogue from julie and the phantoms so like credit to all those creators and writers 🤪

warnings for this chapter: grief, mentioned character death (regarding kurt's mom)

read below the cut or here on ao3!! <3

--

2020

There’s a deep-seated weight of dread in Kurt’s stomach that he’s unable to ignore for the entire morning.

His last chance at the music program -- he needs to play again today, for the first time in over a year, or he’s done.

It’s all he can think about all day. He makes it through his first few classes, somehow, walking through the halls almost mindlessly, thoughts far away and only worrying about what he’s going to do, barely paying attention to who he’s almost running into, because he doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

It almost feels like last year again, when school started and everyone knew and everyone was staring at him in the hallways, even though he knows that they’re not right now and he knows most of these people couldn’t care less about him not being able to play at this point, but in his head it feels like they all know, like they’re all waiting, waiting and watching for him to play again and sing again.

He has been, too, for over a year.

He stops at his locker to wait for Mercedes before going to class.

“We’re gonna get tattoos together,” comes her familiar voice out of nowhere.

Involuntarily, Kurt smiles a little, turning to Mercedes. “Umm…?”

She shrugs and smiles back at him. “You know, when we’re adults and out in New York together or something. Just -- you know, at some point.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, silently saying, where the hell did this come from. Mercedes raises both of hers as if to say, answer the question. “Just curious,” she adds out loud. “Could start planning them now.”

He chuckles. “Of course. I’ll get all the matching tattoos with you.”

Grins and silent agreement pass between them and they both turn toward the lockers, a welcome break in the slowest part of the day, the voices and noises of other students filling the air.

“I know you don’t want me to ask, but…” Mercedes starts slowly after a moment, and Kurt nods his head in acknowledgement; he knows what she’s going to say. “Do you know what you’re going to do today?”

He puts some books in his backpack, mainly for something to do. “I’ll know in the moment,” he says, somewhat truthfully. He could just say what he thinks will happen, which is nothing. But Mercedes can see right through him anyway, so might as well stay somewhat positive until it happens. Or rather, doesn’t happen.

Mercedes sighs a little. “Mrs. Harrison said today is your last chance,” she tries, leaning on her side against the lockers.

“I know, I was there,” Kurt says lightly, letting his eyes scan the contents of his locker a tenth time. Mercedes reaches over and squeezes his hand lightly. Her eyes tell him that she’ll stop talking about it for now, and he squeezes back gratefully.

The conversation with Mercedes has really helped, though; it always does. If he’s going to spectacularly embarrass himself in front of his music class, and probably for the last time, at least he’ll have Mercedes there.

She sees it in his smile, and she sends it back. You always will, is her silent whisper.

A sharp, cheery voice pierces the air and makes them both turn their heads, and the uplifted mood from the conversation with Mercedes disappears when Kurt sees none other than Quinn Fabray, in her Cheerios! uniform, complete with a tight ponytail and perfect smile as she hands out what appears to be flyers to passing students, who are immediately won over by her status, closeness, sweetness. Finn Hudson lingers behind her with his guitar case and his own stack of flyers that he’s not handing out nearly as enthusiastically.

“Spirit rally Friday!” Quinn’s saying as she all but shoves another flyer into the face of a nervous freshman who takes it and scurries away, doing a double-take once they pass her. “Come see the Cheerios! do their new routine, and my group, the Unholy Trinity, perform our brand new original song!”

“What’s she handing out?” Kurt whispers to Mercedes. A corner of his lip quirks up despite the general unpleasantness of seeing Quinn.

“Desperation?” she answers with a small smirk. When Kurt turns back, Quinn is in front of him. He holds back a grimace at her fake smile and cheeriness.

“Hey, guys!” she chirps, as if they’re just any two other students at this school. “Here you go, my group’s performing at the spirit assembly on Friday!”

Kurt flinches back a little as a flyer appears much too close to his face and he takes it instinctively, holding it lightly in his fingertips. It truly looks like something Quinn designed -- perfectly professional, impressive, eye-catching -- and he can’t say it looks bad, as much as he might want to. He eyes Quinn over the top of the flyer.

“I’m sure you guys have nothing better to do,” Quinn continues, that smile still on her face, and there are the claws, Kurt thinks as he resists the urge to rip up the flyer right in front of her.

“Oh, my gosh, Quinn, thank you!” Mercedes says in an exaggeratedly sweet voice, clearly -- or at least clearly to Kurt, and likely Quinn as well -- imitating the specific tone of voice that Quinn takes, and Kurt stifles a laugh.

“Oh my gosh, Cedes, don’t bother coming!” Quinn says with a wide smile, turning away with a whip of her ponytail to continue pushing her flyers.

Kurt looks back at Mercedes, mumbling, “She did not just call you Cedes,” while Mercedes crumples up the flyer in her hands.

“Well, she did,” Mercedes says. Kurt can see the anger behind her eyes and he raises a concerned eyebrow. “I’m fine. She just… you know.” She dismisses his silent question.

“Yeah.” He loops his arm through Mercedes’ and they head down the hallway, almost running into Finn not three steps from Kurt’s locker.

“Oh, hey, sorry guys!” he says with a sheepish but genuine smile that contains all the warmth missing from Quinn’s. “Did you -- I guess Quinn already got -- ”

“Yep, she got to us,” Cedes says quickly, steering Kurt around Finn. “Thanks, Finn, bye!”

“Please tell me you are over him,” Mercedes says when they’re in a quieter area at the end of the row of lockers. Kurt realizes he’s staring and quickly looks away.

“Yeah, I am.” Mercedes looks at him skeptically and he insists, “I am, promise! You just… don’t find a nice jock like him around here that much.”

She nods, satisfied, and raises her eyebrows meaningfully. “You know they’re going to get married and have a bunch of demon babies.”

Kurt’s jaw drops open slightly and he laughs. “You can’t say Finn isn’t a sweetheart.”

“Only one of them has to be a demon to make a demon baby,” Mercedes says matter-of-factly.

“What… it’s a dominant gene?”

“Of course.” Mercedes turns back toward Quinn and raises her voice. “Demon!”

The two of them push against the wall, hiding behind the end of the lockers, when Quinn snaps her gaze back. Kurt can’t hold his laughs in this time, and he feels a little bad about it, but… considering what Quinn’s done to them, he can let himself and Cedes get away with it.

“There’s that smile,” Mercedes says gently as they gather themselves. “Now let’s go prove everybody wrong.” She pulls him toward the music room and slowly but surely, the sickening feeling in his stomach returns. He sits down next to Mercedes and just breathes. She squeezes his hand again.

Mrs. Harrison starts class soon after they arrive, getting into the last of the progress performances which are both a chance for the students to show off to their classmates, and also a checkpoint for participation in the music program, which is the part Kurt’s concerned about.

He barely hears as Finn finishes his drum solo and everyone claps and then Mrs. Harrison is calling his name and he’s standing and walking to the piano and oh god.

“Take your time,” Mrs. Harrison says gently.

That’s all he’s been doing for almost a year, just taking his time, but nothing has come of it. He sits down slowly, opening his music in front of him but it’s like his eyes don’t see the notes and just gloss over the page. He looks down at the keys, sets his fingers in place reluctantly.

It’s been so long that the keys almost feel foreign under his fingers when they once were the most familiar thing in the world. It’s been so long that he barely remembers how the song should go and why did he think he could just do this, it doesn’t matter how good at sightreading he’s always been. It’s been so long of him locking the memories in a chained and padlocked safe in the back of his mind and he’s terrified of playing again being what opens it because playing and singing and music has always always meant Mom, and she’s gone which he still sometimes forgets and it always hurts like hell to remember again, so letting himself remember so much more will only make reality that much worse. It’s been so long and what if he’s forgotten, what if he opens himself to the memories just to find that they don’t exist anymore?

It’s been so long; it’s been over a year, but doesn’t that mean he should be fine by now?

He knows avoiding the memories hasn’t been the best idea, but right now he can’t think of anything he could have done differently, can’t linger and regret his choices because he feels so vulnerable and exposed finally sitting at the piano in front of his whole class for the first time in a year, and the choice is right there and maybe he could do it but not in front of everyone his brain screams, and he can almost feel Quinn’s sharp, judging, so far from friendly gaze fixed on him and that is what breaks it, that is something he definitely can’t take and he pulls his hands back with a short inhale and the whirlwind in his mind stops and he can mostly breathe again.

It’s been so long.

Heart still pounding, he gets up and apologizes to Mrs. Harrison because she really has tried to help him and he appreciates it but he still can’t, and Quinn makes some comment and Mercedes fires something back but he doesn’t hear any of it, he just has to leave.

He knows Mercedes follows him out and she calls out his name when he’s halfway down the stairs. He’s started crying at some point and he doesn’t know when. All of it is just such a mess and so present in his mind; he was so close to music again, to Mom, but he’s not ready. He’s scared.

“Kurt,” Cedes calls again, quieter, her voice soft and choked, pleading. “Come on, please. Come back… and show them you can sing .”

He turns to look at her at the top of the stairs. “I can’t,” he says, voice rough with tears. “I’ve tried, for over a year I’ve tried…. I’ve tried for Dad, I’ve tried for Mrs. Harrison, fuck, I’ve even tried for Quinn.” He gives a short, bitter laugh as more tears spill down his cheeks.

“I’ve tried so hard for you.” He gestures up to her, voice breaking. “I’ve tried for Mom.” He closes his eyes for a moment, takes a breath. “And I’ve tried for myself.” Mercedes is also crying a little now.

“For over a year, I’ve tried,” Kurt continues weakly. “But I just -- I can’t. Not… not now.”

He runs down the rest of the stairs and out the door, and he knows he just got himself kicked out of music, knows he just ruined everything.

--

From mercedes 💖, 2:04 pm:

Are you leaving?

From mercedes 💖, 2:06

Tell me when you get home. I love you

To mercedes 💖, 2:08 pm:

i will, at the park for now

From mercedes 💖, 2:10 pm:

I’ll bring your stuff around later.

To mercedes 💖, 2:10 pm:

thank you

To mercedes 💖, 2:11 pm:

i love you. i’m sorry

From mercedes 💖, 2:12 pm:

Nothing to be sorry for, just take care of yourself okay?

From mercedes 💖, 2:13 pm:

Give yourself a hug from me until I get there to do it for you

--

“Hey, kiddo, how was your day?” Burt asks as he walks in, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder who’s doing homework at the kitchen table.

“It was okay,” Kurt responds with a small but hopefully convincing smile to hide the worry eating away at him inside, because if the school’s already contacted his dad about today, about Kurt ruining his last chance…

“I gotta go again in a bit,” Burt says, taking a drink of water. “Some guy really needs a car fix by tomorrow morning, but I’ll be done by dinner.” Kurt nods, some relief flooding his veins. He turns back to his homework.

“Oh, another thing,” Burt says and Kurt stiffens again. “I wanted to come and check in with you -- I talked to a real estate agent today, and they said if we’re serious about selling the house, we need to take some pictures and stuff, clean everything… and I was wondering if you’re up for cleaning Mom’s studio?”

Kurt’s immediate surprise and hesitance must show on his face even as he tries to keep his composure, because Burt quickly assures, “It’s okay if you’re not ready, I promise; we have time. You know I just -- I wouldn’t even know where to start in there.”

Kurt smiles a little. “No, it’s okay,” he says. “I can try tonight.”

“Awesome.” Burt ruffles Kurt’s hair, which from anyone else other than maybe Mercedes would not end particularly well, but Kurt just laughs and tries to brush the loose strands out of his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Kurt. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad.”

Kurt exhales slowly as his dad leaves again.

Cleaning out the studio means having to confront exactly what he’s tried to avoid for a year. The disaster that was music class today doesn’t make him feel better about it… but at least this time he’ll be alone -- none of the pressure of having to live up to the standards of well-meaning teachers or aggressive ex-best friends, none of the pressure of having to play at all, especially from the competitive nature at school. And… maybe he needs it.

Moving from here will only help you move on. Kurt’s aunt’s words echo in his mind. A part of him recoils at the idea of leaving his childhood home -- leaving the spaces his mom used to inhabit and her light and energy used to fill to the brim -- and starting over, someplace where there are none of those memories… he can’t tell if that’s a good thing. It feels like more of the running away that he’s been doing for a year, and he wonders if it really will solve anything.

But maybe he does need it. If staying in this house for the last year hasn’t helped, a change would be good, right?

Turning back to his work, he takes a deep breath and starts planning dinner in his head. He’ll tackle the studio after dinner’s ready.

--

To Dad, 7:39 pm:

dinner’s done, i’ll be in the studio

Kurt takes a slow breath as he opens the doors to the garage.

It’s not that it’s his first time in the studio after his mom died -- someone had to water the plants -- but he kept any interaction with the rest of the room minimal, so it still feels different to take in the full space instead of just rushing to the plants in the back with his head down. It always came with some guilt; it felt like the least he could do to keep some life in the studio when he could barely even bring himself to enter, let alone fill it with music as it needs to be.

He walks in slowly, some apprehension tickling the back of his neck, trying to stay calm. The familiarity is almost overwhelming this time as he looks around, actually taking in the room. The guitars on the wall, the couch and table, all of his mom’s decorations and knick-knacks. The chairs on the ceiling, story told with a fond smile from his dad about his mom wanting to decorate in a fun special way even while 7 months pregnant. The plants in the back, flourishing in front of the wall of windows positioned to let in the sunrise beautifully, not that Kurt has seen it happen recently.

And the grand piano -- in the center of the room, covered with a sheet, neglected for over a year. Kurt pulls it off now absentmindedly, letting the fabric pool over his feet. He takes a deep breath even though he probably just filled the air with dust, and goes over to the bench. He doesn’t open the lid, not yet. Some sheet music is on the seat and he places it on the piano without looking, sits down and gently touches the fallboard, inhaling shakily, not opening it to reveal the keys but just… remembering what it used to be, what it used to -- still means….

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut, “that I haven’t been here.”

With his eyes closed against the dark emptiness of the room, he can almost forget. It’s too easy to think that when he opens his eyes, his mom will be there, and she’ll be writing a song with him, or she’ll be playing, or they’ll just be talking…

Before the idea can flood his mind and leave him reeling when he returns to reality, Kurt stands and looks around the room again. There really is a strangeness to the place now. What used to be so comfortable and an extension of home -- sometimes even more home than the main house -- was always warm and brimming with emotion and joy and music and life -- now cold and dark and hollow, quiet. The familiar bones have an unsettling foreign emptiness around them. It feels wrong.

It needs to be filled. But… Kurt can’t do that.

He misses his mom -- always, but it’s amplified in this space that was always hers. He misses the feeling that the studio used to bring, that spirit that is now dimmed and suppressed. Covered, but still there. He can feel it like a gentle heat behind his skin. Not bad, but overwhelming, and he just….

The loft, Kurt decides suddenly. He’ll start with the loft. There aren’t memories and emotions so confusing and thick there that he’s barely able to avoid it, to push his way through with no energy left to untangle and understand. The loft is just full of random old stuff that his mom wouldn’t throw out and his dad teased her about.

So the loft first. And then he can ease into the rest when he’s more ready. After all, his dad did say they have time.

It’s significantly dustier in the loft; old instruments and random bags full of clothes are scattered and piled across the floor, his own electric keyboard propped up against the wall. Kurt stands on the stepladder a few steps below the actual loft floor, looks around a little, his eyes landing on a CD case lying on the ground -- black with a simple stark white word design: Sunset Curve. He picks it up, eyeing it thoughtfully, brings it back down to the main floor and decides to put it into the old CD player.

He doesn’t really know why he has such an urge all of a sudden. He’s listened to some music, but not nearly as much as before, and has actually chosen to listen to music only a handful of times since his mom died.

But… the studio needs music. As an apology for a year of neglect, and as a goodbye, he can let this music redeem the studio’s spirit a little, fill what he’s left hollow.

And he doesn’t want to be alone in the silence with his memories while he’s going through everything, even just in the loft. As something completely unfamiliar and random, this can give him the distraction and none of the pain. At least, that’s the plan.

Stepping down from the loft stairs, he glances at the picture in the CD case as he opens it -- a band of four who all look like teenagers, staring seriously into the camera -- he doesn’t get a good look at them, just slides the disc into the CD player and takes a seat on the couch.

The opening song starts strong with a gritty guitar riff and a 1, 2, 3! counting the band in. Despite himself, Kurt starts nodding along to the beat. It really is a great song, unique and upbeat…

Then some kind of… panicked screaming makes itself heard, first quietly and he thinks it could be part of the song, but it crescendos and gets unbearably loud --

And then there are three strangers appearing out of thin air before his eyes, screaming as they fall to the ground heavily. Kurt would wince at the sound of the impact --

That part’s certainly unlike any CD he’s listened to before.

He’s frozen, heart hammering and eyes widening as he stares at the three strangers picking themselves up off the ground, taking in their surroundings a little…

“How’d we get back here?” the middle one -- a shorter guy with black hair -- says breathlessly.

Kurt screams.

--

It’s not his finest moment, but three complete strangers just appeared in his mom’s studio, seemingly just popping into the air, and he can’t say he’s never been superstitious in his entire life or that he isn’t drawing immediate conclusions -- supernatural conclusions, fucking ridiculous conclusions. He doesn’t love that he runs into his dad on his way back into the house which may have also involved a little yelling about seeing ghosts (ghosts who screamed back, for the record), but he makes it to the safety of his room and texts Mercedes frantically, who doesn’t respond.

“Come on, Cedes,” he hisses to himself, shooting off another text. “Answer me!”

A knock from his doorway startles him and he just barely manages to hold back a shout, turning to see his dad leaning into his room hesitantly.

“You okay?”

Kurt gives him what must be a hysterical-looking attempt at a reassuring smile, all wide eyes and clenched teeth. “Yeah, no, totally fine, sorry for -- scaring you,” he replies choppily, tone not even convincing to himself. “Just, um, practicing for a school play.”

Burt definitely doesn’t believe him, but nods slowly anyway. “Well, I’m gonna go clean up -- ” He gestures over his shoulder with a grease-covered hand. “Dinner in like, ten minutes?”

“Yeah. Sounds good,” Kurt says shortly, forcing another smile and a thumbs-up.

As soon as the door closes, Kurt turns back toward his window and tries to get a glance of the studio, but it’s blocked from this angle by the trees in their yard. Apprehensively, he heads back to the garage, thankfully not running into his dad this time, phone in hand and thumb hovering over Mercedes’ phone contact.

When he goes in, it’s empty; no sign of anything out of the ordinary happening.

He scans the space warily, feeling jumpy and nervous, but nothing happens and he mumbles, “I know I saw something, I’m not crazy.”

He hears a soft popping noise and then, “Well, we’re all a little crazy,” from behind him and he turns with a sharp gasp.

“Oh, my god, who are you?” Kurt yells, maybe a little too loud because the black-haired boy winces slightly and all three of them step back a little. “What the hell are you doing in my mom’s studio?”

“Your mom’s studio?” the black-haired guy scoffs. “This is our studio!”

The tall blonde guy bounces forward. “Yeah, like, the piano’s new, but -- ” He looks to the right and his face lights up. “My couch!” he calls, running over and jumping straight onto it.

The girl -- hair black and in braids -- rolls her eyes. “Not your couch, Sam.”

The blonde -- Sam? -- sits up indignantly, stabbing a finger in the cushions. “Hey, I spent more time on this couch than any of you. Pretty sure it’s mine at this point.”

Kurt just watches them with wide eyes, jaw hanging open, with absolutely no idea what to do.

“But these aren’t our instruments,” the black-haired guy says warily, looking around. At some point he and the girl have linked arms, Kurt notices. He watches as they all take in the studio, faces getting increasingly confused and worried. Kurt raises an eyebrow that apparently can go higher than it already is.

“Because… it’s my mom’s studio…” he manages to say again, mind still whirling at the hurricane of new and completely nonsensical information.

“Can you just -- give us a minute?” Sam says, jumping over the coffee table to join his friends. They turn away to talk in a huddle, and Kurt stands awkwardly as they talk in failed attempts at hushed tones.

--

Tina’s trying to ignore the pounding of her possibly-only-theoretical heart -- she’s dead, how can she even feel a heartbeat -- as she watches Blaine and Sam talk to the… living person in front of them. Sam makes his usual comment about “his couch” and Tina snarks back with her usual response and it gives her some comfort, some familiarity even in this studio which should feel like home, has for so long, and it still does to an extent, but everything here is suddenly different.

The comment does send the strange boy’s attention back to her, though, which she doesn’t really like. Blaine wraps an arm around hers and she squeezes his forearm in gratitude. He did that a lot when they were alive -- knew how and when to offer her his touch to reassure her a little.

At least there’s something that’s still the same.

At least her boys are still the same.

She tries to focus on Blaine’s arm in hers, on Sam’s dumb comments as he comes bounding back to them, hissing, “Guys, what is going on here?”

Tina shrugs. Blaine whispers, “Who is he?”

“He can hear you,” the person in question says pointedly from behind them, but Sam ignores him and says, “Maybe he’s a witch.” He looks up, pointing. “There are chairs on the ceiling.”

“There’s no such thing as witches,” Tina hisses.

“Are you sure?” Sam shoots back. “Because I used to think there was no such thing as ghosts!”

Tina swallows. “That’s fair.”

“So we’re going with witch?” Blaine asks.

“No!” Tina waves her hands at both of them. “No, come on. You guys are just -- he’s probably just overwhelmed, okay? Let someone with a softer touch handle this.”

Maybe “softer touch” wasn’t the right phrase to use in this instance, she thinks, but she really just wants answers and figures she might as well be straightforward. “Why are you in our studio?” she asks, maybe a little too aggressively, stepping up to the alive stranger.

He looks down with a shocked expression and Tina realizes she accidentally got close enough to touch him -- or… pass her hand through his, partially. They both watch as he brings his hand through hers again. It’s a weird feeling -- warm and kind of tingly, or like she’s putting her hand through water.

“Oh my god,” he says, eyes wide. “How did you do that?”

Tina raises their eyebrows a little. “Okay, clearly you don’t -- clearly, he doesn’t get it,” she says, addressing the guys behind her. She turns back to the stranger, gesturing to herself and the others as she explains, “We’re ghosts. We’re just three ghosts, and we’re really happy to be home, so… thank you for the flowers; they really brighten up the room.” She tries to smile at him.

“We’re actually in a band called Sunset Curve,” Blaine pipes up, stepping up to flank her on the left.

“Tell your friends!” chimes Sam on her right.

“Last night was a really big night for us,” Blaine says, a little sadly. “It was gonna change our lives.”

Tina whispers, “Uh, I’m pretty sure it did.” Blaine huffs and elbows her gently.

“This is freaking me out,” the stranger says, shaking his head as he takes something from his pocket.

“What is that; what are you doing?” Blaine asks.

Alive Stranger looks up, fingers still touching the face of the object. “It’s my phone -- nope, stop talking to them! There’s no such thing as cute ghosts,” he says, seemingly to himself.

Sam gasps. “Think we’re cute?” He raises an eyebrow, making one of his insufferable Sam faces; Tina almost laughs.

The boy looks up again with wide eyes, gaze flitting to each of them as if watching for a reaction, swallowing and going back to his phone.

“Who’re you calling?” Tina asks, trying to see the side facing him because that doesn’t look like any phone she’s ever seen.

“I’m googling Sunset Swerve.”

“Sunset Curve!” Blaine, Sam, and Tina correct him at the same time, Sam drawing a curve in the air with his finger.

The stranger laughs nervously, staring at them with wide eyes and then back at his phone. “Okay… so there is a Sunset Curve.” He swallows again. “You guys did die. But not last night.” Tina’s stomach drops a little; Blaine and Sam get closer.

“Twenty-five… years ago,” the boy finishes, a confused look in his eyes.

Tina barely has time to register this before Sam says, “That’s impossible. All we did after we floated out of the car was go to that weird dark room where Tina cried.”

Her mouth drops open. “I wasn’t -- I -- we -- ” she squeaks, voice jumping up an octave. “I think we were all pretty upset,” she says, but she supposes Sam is right.

He pats her back and doesn’t have a chance to respond again because Blaine steps in, “That was just for, like, an hour, though. We just showed up here.” Tina and Sam nod.

“Look,” the living one says, finally turning his “phone” toward them. They lean forward to see a screen with a photo of them -- and Artie, Tina thinks distantly; she feels his absence acutely and it spikes through her chest -- taken for their summer tour, and a bunch of small text around it that she can’t read, a bold headline at the top reading, Sunset Curve: A Hollywood Tragedy. “I’m just telling you what my phone says,” he explains. “You guys died in 1995. It’s now 2020.”

“So this is the future?” Sam asks incredulously as the boy pulls his phone back. Something else sticks out in Tina’s mind, though.

“So -- it has been twenty-five years,” she says, pausing to gather her thoughts. “I have been crying for twenty-five years -- how is that possible?!”

“You’re a very emotional person,” Sam reasons.

“I am not!” she insists, but the tears already pressing in the back of her throat want to prove otherwise. Distantly, she reminds herself that she’s with her friends who’ve seen it all and she doesn’t need to hold back, but the presence of this complete stranger also overrides the ease of her relationship with the guys. Sam rubs a comforting hand over her shoulder, and she swallows the tears down.

Alive Stranger shakes his head. “I gotta go… eat dinner,” he says slowly. He turns back around once he’s walked past the three of them and says, “Look, I’m really sorry for what happened to you guys, but this isn’t your studio anymore. You have to leave.”

“But we -- ” Blaine starts, starting to go forward but a sharp glare stops him and he clears his throat. “We didn’t even get your name.”

“It’s Kurt,” the stranger snaps.

“Cool, I’m -- Blaine,” Blaine says hesitantly. “And this is…”

“Sam, hey.”

“Tina, how’s it going…”

“Ba-da,” Blaine sings weakly, gesturing his hands in front of them like he’s presenting them to Kurt.

They all watch for Kurt’s reaction, but he just sighs and leaves the studio. He leaves the doors open, probably to remind them that they technically just got kicked out of their studio -- or, Kurt’s mom’s studio -- someone’s studio, but really it’s been their home for so long…

“Kurt seems nice,” Sam says cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood.

Tina turns to him. “Did you miss the part where he kicked us out, or…” she says drily. Sam shrugs, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Okay,” Tina mutters, turning to wander around the studio some more. If they’re going to be kicked out, she wants to spend as much more time as she can here.

--

Kurt’s mind is a storm. He doesn’t know where to start with this new information -- with an evening that took such a sharp turn from reminiscing and sad and somewhat painful into just… something so completely different and unexpected.

Dinner Kurt can do. He can put the craziness of ghosts aside because dinner is easy, dinner is simple; dinner is important.

His dad has already set everything out so Kurt takes his seat across from him, sending a not-completely-true nvm everything’s fine, sorry for worrying you text to Mercedes, who finally got back to him at some point when he was distracted…

Distracted talking to ghosts.

“How’s it going?” Burt asks as he sits down and it takes Kurt a second to remember he must be talking about cleaning the studio, and not actually about ghost musicians.

Ghosts don’t exist. There are no ghosts in the garage. Don’t think about ghosts.

“It’s good,” Kurt says, poking at his food a little. “I’m starting with the loft.”

Burt smiles. “Those old instruments need a home.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, returning the smile. “Mom would like that.”

The instruments probably belong to some ghosts, Kurt realizes, but… nothing he can really do about that. And that’s if the ghosts can even touch objects.

They eat in comfortable silence for a while and then Burt sets down his fork. Kurt looks up apprehensively.

“So I got an email from the school today,” he starts. Kurt fiddles with his fork and drops his gaze.

“Hey, it’s okay, Kurt, I’m not mad,” Burt promises.

You should be, Kurt thinks -- all that money spent for him to audition for and attend the music program, and for private lessons and sheet music and piano maintenance, just for him to throw it all away.

“I know those classes can be hard,” his dad says, and Kurt almost can’t take his gentle tone, feels guilty about it even though he appreciates it. “But… you still like music, don’t you?”

Kurt shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe?”

“I know the memories are hard, believe me, Kurt. But, every time I see you, I see Mom, you know? And I love that, I really do. Maybe, if you give yourself a chance, you can, too.” Kurt looks up hesitantly to see his dad’s gentle, loving expression and eyes slightly glassy with tears. Looking down again, he swallows, and nods.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I will. I’ll try.”

Because what he said to Mercedes earlier on the staircase is true, but… he’ll always try harder for his dad.

“It’s okay, Kurt,” Burt assures him. “We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Kurt smiles and almost starts eating again, but music suddenly blares from outside, startling both of them, Kurt barely holding back a loud swear.

“What is that?” Burt says, getting up but Kurt rushes to reassure him, saying quickly, “I must have just left the CD player on in the garage! It’s fine, I’ll go get it!”

He runs back to the studio where the ghosts are still there apparently, and have somehow gotten instruments from the loft and set everything up to start playing, and play really loudly -- and it honestly sounds good but Kurt can’t focus on that because they’re going to disturb the entire neighborhood and get the cops called on them for a noise complaint and what is he supposed to say -- no officer, it was just the three ghosts in the garage being idiots, sorry?

Kurt yells for them to stop but it’s useless; he can barely even hear himself over how incredibly loudly they’re playing. Blaine, on an electric guitar that Kurt remembers seeing in the loft, turns and sees Kurt, walking towards him and finally playing one last chord when Kurt makes a horizontal cutting motion with his hand, and Sam, on the bass, follows, Tina playing one last short drum roll, looking up with a wide grin.

They all look… alive, Kurt thinks, despite literally being dead, so different from the confusion he left them with -- relaxed and loose and faces lit up, the energy flowing through them almost visible. If he didn’t know they were ghosts and made of air, he’d expect to be able to reach out and feel them, breaths hot and fast from the exertion and adrenaline, skin warm and slightly sweaty, hearts beating strong like the steady percussion of their band.

It reminds him of how music used to make him feel.

“Cut it out!” Kurt snaps, trying not to raise his voice too much. “The whole neighborhood could hear you! I thought I told you to leave!”

Blaine looks back at his bandmates, bewildered. “People -- people can hear us play?”

“Yes!” Kurt says exasperatedly. “My dad heard you from inside!”

“… What did he think?” Blaine asks after a moment. Kurt opens his mouth for an irritated response --

“Everything okay in here?”

Kurt whips around to see his dad in the doorway and smiles with wide eyes. “Yeah! I just -- had to turn off the CD player,” he lies.

People have told Kurt before that he’s a good liar; he really hopes that’s true after the evening he’s had -- he's having.

Burt’s attention is elsewhere, though, seemingly forgetting about the chaos from just a moment earlier. “Wait, is this the junk that was in the loft?” he says, excitedly eyeing the instruments and… the ghosts that he can’t see.

“Junk?” Blaine exclaims. Tina stands up, her eyes on Burt, drumsticks gripped tightly in one hand.

They all watch apprehensively as Burt weaves through the instruments, even going so far as to rattle Tina’s cymbals and tap the drums, much to her horror. She fixes Kurt with wide, urgent eyes, to which Kurt just shrugs and gives her a helpless look. Hey Dad, actually, the ghost drummer wants you to stop, so…

“Hey, this stuff’s in pretty good shape,” Burt says excitedly. “Maybe we can make a couple bucks, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kurt agrees weakly, mostly just watching as Tina fails to push Burt away from the drums.

“I like the song you had on,” Burt says, finally stepping away from the instruments. Tina rubs down a cymbal with her sleeve.

“Sweet! We’re Sunset Curve,” Blaine pipes up.

“Tell your friends!” Sam says, to a fond eye-roll from Tina.

“It’s just an old CD I found,” Kurt says, ripping his attention from the ghosts.

“Well, it’s nice that you’re listening to music again,” Burt says sincerely. “Out here, you can play whatever you want, whenever you want.” He waves his hands out on either side for emphasis, going through Sam and Blaine’s bodies. Kurt chuckles weakly.

“Oh,” Sam says, looking down at where Burt’s hand was in his stomach just a moment before. “That’s nice.”

“Stay out of this,” Kurt hisses.

“Sorry, Kurt, I’m just trying to help -- ”

“Oh! No, not you, Dad,” Kurt says quickly. For fuck’s sake -- “Just -- just give me a minute -- ” He starts pulling his dad toward the door. Burt stops him and says, “Hey, we’re gonna figure out this music program thing, okay?”

“Thanks, Dad,” Kurt says with a smile, and gestures for him to leave.

Once Burt is out of sight, he turns back to the ghosts.

“Wait -- ” Tina waves her drumsticks around a little. “So -- only you can see us, but everyone can hear us?” Kurt nods in confirmation. “What kind of ghosts are we?” Tina says.

“Who cares, dude!” Sam says, stepping up to Tina’s drum kit with a grin. “People can hear us play!” The three exchange fist-bumps as Blaine says happily, “We might be dead, but our music isn’t.”

“And Kurt’s dad likes our music!” Sam cheers.

“He’s a dad, it doesn’t count,” Tina mumbles, smiling and pushing Sam playfully when he turns to her with an offended look.

Confusion and annoyance bubble up inside Kurt along with something like anger at, just, all of it and he groans and says loudly, “Why can’t you guys just be normal ghosts? You know, go hang out at an old mansion or something! I hear Pasadena’s nice!” and turns to leave, slamming the door on his way out.

He just… has had too much going on today. He needs to -- ignore his homework and the problem with school and maybe just sleep in for the next two days. That would be really nice.

He’s so caught up in his head and he jumps and yells when a ghost appears in front of him with no warning.

“Don’t do that!” Kurt exclaims.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Blaine says quickly. “ -- You do know how rad this is though, right? People -- people can hear us play!”

“Yeah, good for you,” Kurt replies, a little too harshly. “It’s just that I’ve had a really, really, awful day. I’ve gotta go.”

He walks past Blaine just to turn around again when he says, “I’m really sorry you had a bad day.” Kurt nods; he can tell Blaine wants to say more, so he waits.

Blaine continues slowly, “I just… three ghosts just found out they had a bad twenty-five years, and then they find out that the one thing they lived for in the first place, they can still do. So you can kick us out, but -- we’re not giving up music. We can play again; that’s a gift no musician would ever turn down,” he says earnestly, eyes wide and almost pleading.

That hurts in Kurt’s chest a little more than it should and he looks down again to avoid the passion and excitement shining clearly in Blaine’s eyes, in his voice, in his words. He swallows down the feeling that statement unearths inside of him, but suddenly his bad day is at the forefront of his mind again -- his bad year.

That’s a gift no musician would ever turn down … some musician he is, then. But he already knew that.

Blaine says softly, “You’ve gotta know that. Clearly your mom is into music.”

Kurt swallows. “Was,” he says, monotone and quiet. “She passed away.”

He hates that it’s become easier to say; he wants to either spit the words out or break down sobbing but he manages to keep his voice steady. (In the back of his mind, he wonders why he just told that to a random ghost he just met. Maybe he’s just going crazy. He’s literally talking to ghosts, after all.)

Blaine’s face falls. “I -- I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Yeah, we -- we didn’t know,” Sam says quietly. He and Tina have also left the studio, standing on the other side of the low wall separating the garage area from the pathway back to the house. They look up with sympathetic eyes and Kurt looks away from them too -- can’t meet any of their wide, well-meaning gazes right now.

“It’s fine,” he dismisses. “Sorry I got mad.” The ghosts are thankfully looking at each other now, seemingly silent conversation passing between their glances. “You guys are pretty good,” Kurt says, trying to change the subject and lighten the atmosphere.

Blaine raises an eyebrow, turning his gaze back to Kurt. “‘Pretty good’? You know that’s just, like, 25 years of rust being dusted off, right?”

“Do you play, too?” Tina asks.

“No, no, I don’t play.” It’s not exactly a lie anymore but it scrapes in Kurt’s throat with his haste to answer. “That’s all my mom’s stuff in there.”

“She’s an amazing songwriter,” Blaine says.

“Yeah, she was,” Kurt answers. “Wait… how do you know?”

Blaine opens his mouth, glancing at the others for a second. “We found a song on the piano,” he says. “If it’s hers… your mom was really talented.”

Kurt nods. She really, really was.

He feels like he doesn’t have the energy to say it again, so he just stays quiet. Somewhat awkwardly, he turns to leave, sensing the end of the conversation and part of him desperately wanting to just leave and not have to see these ghosts again….

So Kurt surprises even himself when he pauses and turns back to face them. “I guess,” he starts, and their gazes snap back up to him. “If you need a place to stay… you can stay in there.” He nods toward the studio and the ghosts’ faces light up. Kurt can’t help but smile back. “There’s a couch that turns into a bed, and in the back there’s a bathroom with a shower, if you still need any of that stuff.”

“Awesome!” Sam exclaims quietly, earning an elbow in the side and a questioning look from Tina. “What? Dude, I just really like showers,” he defends.

Tina rolls her eyes. Kurt takes a breath, raising his hands to gesture vaguely at the three of them. “This is just… too weird.” He nods to himself, finally leaving this time, leaving the ghosts to… do what they will.

The fact that there are ghosts in his mom’s studio…. Maybe there’s a chance that Mom knows them -- sent them, he thinks… but decides to not get his hopes up. She’s gone and he needs to just keep it at that.

What he really wants is to tell Mercedes, but he doesn’t know how.

What would you say if I told you there were three ghosts living in my mom’s studio? Kurt thinks on his way back to his room.

You’d say I’m crazy.

--

It’s some point in the night; they figured out that they don’t need to sleep -- can’t sleep, it seems like, which is honestly really annoying in Tina’s opinion because they’re ghosts with literally nothing to do for too many hours at a time -- so they’re just hanging out in the studio, with the lights outside giving them a little visibility through the garage windows, but it’s kind of nice to just sit in the dark.

Tina has been on the couch with Sam, lying on their backs, heads in opposite directions, legs pressed up against each other. Sam’s bass is unplugged, laid on his stomach and extending over Tina’s legs. He plucks out notes and Tina accompanies with a soft beat using just her hands and body parts as instruments. Sometimes it’s a familiar bassline -- a Sunset Curve song rehearsed or performed or recorded before -- and they also hum the harmonies that they know, and sometimes they improvise -- Tina storing the good bits in her mind for a future writing session.

Blaine is in the loft where they hoped a light could be on and maybe go unnoticed. Tina assumes that he’s writing; he always was when they were alive. And of course, now he has 25 years of dark room and relative nothingness to catch up on writing about.

It feels like another quiet night from when they were alive, each of them with an excuse to escape their homes for the night, and they’d all crash here, filling the studio with soft music and noise. Blaine would stay up writing and sometimes singing while Sam and Tina (and Artie) would try to sleep, telling him to stop humming, or, since the main house inhabitants who would care about the noise were rarely there, they would sometimes join along with him and make it a Sunset Curve midnight rehearsal.

They’ve never had the best sleep schedules anyway.

Tina giggles quietly as she and Sam play into nothingness, both parts running uncontrolled and unable to get back on track. They both stop and Sam starts playing a familiar line -- parts they’d worked out before with bass, drums, and both guitars, but never actually put into a song. Tina waits for a moment to come in with her part.

She’s nearly startled off the couch when Blaine poofs down beside the couch with his guitar and starts his part. Tina starts laughing -- probably too loud but they’re pretty sure only their music can be heard anyway -- and slides off the couch to sit on the ground, picking the drumming back up on her legs.

“You guys wanna check out this teleportation thing?” Blaine asks, playing the challenging guitar riff meant for electric guitar messily on his acoustic without a pick.

Sam sits up and puts his bass to the side. “Absolutely,” he says. “Where’re we going?”

“I have an idea,” Blaine says, setting his guitar down. He pulls Tina up and extends a hand out for Sam. “I think I can take you guys with me.”

“What?” Tina squeaks, but a second later, she’s sitting far above the ground, outside, on top of the marquee of the Orpheum. “Oh my god,” she mutters, looking down dizzily at the people passing by on the sidewalk. Her body tingles with a weird uncomfortable energy for just a few seconds before it fades.

“Yes!” Blaine laughs, kicking his legs up excitedly. “I mean, I know being a ghost isn’t our first choice, but it sure is easy getting around!”

“Easy for you, maybe!” Sam cries on Blaine’s other side. “I lost my shirt on that one!”

Tina looks over and sure enough, Sam is shirtless. She stifles a laugh behind her hand. “Like that’s a concern,” she pipes up, but Sam’s shirt appears right as she says it. They all laugh and sit in silence for a moment.

“So why’d you bring us here?” Tina asks, looking out across Hollywood Boulevard, the new and old buildings and shops, the people and cars of the future. The light of the Orpheum’s neon sign shines in her periphery, same as it did on a night twenty-five years ago. “Just another reminder of where we never got to play,” she says wryly, turning to face Blaine on her left, patting his shoulder. “Thanks, Blaine.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “I’m telling you guys, it’s not over yet!” Tina reappears on the sidewalk right below them, almost losing her balance and falling through a person walking past. She shoots a glare at Blaine for teleporting them with no warning again, but he just grins back and starts down the sidewalk, Sam following. “Let’s see how many places we can play tonight, yeah? Check out the music scene of the future? And no trouble getting into those clubs anymore!”

Tina laughs, falling into step with them. She watches Sam walk straight through someone going in the opposite direction and doesn’t realize someone is in her way, which shouldn't be a problem, until she bumps into them.

She feels them.

“Hey!” she says involuntarily, turning to see who it was -- another ghost? A tall man with a cape and top hat nods at her with an acknowledging and almost menacing gleam in his eye, then turns again and walks away.

He could see her, he could touch her -- he has to be another ghost, right?

“Tina, you coming?” Sam calls. She swallows and takes one last look, the other ghost having disappeared among the other people on the sidewalk, before turning and running to catch back up with the guys.

“I just ran into someone,” she says, a little breathless -- she doesn’t know if that’s from running, which she doesn’t think she can actually get breathless from, or the fact that she ran into someone.

“Another ghost?” Blaine says.

“I mean, it has to be, right? Uh, Kurt -- Kurt can see us but he can’t touch us…”

“And his dad couldn’t either,” Sam adds.

“It must have been another ghost. He looked like a… performer, or something.” Tina wrinkles their nose a little as she remembers his whole get-up, completely out of place among what she’s seen so far of 21st century street fashion. (But then again, so is she, and her friends.)

“… I guess we’re not alone, then,” Blaine says, breaking a short bewildered silence.

“We’re never alone!” Sam exclaims, walking between them to throw his arms around Blaine and Tina’s shoulders. Tina laughs and grabs his forearm, mystery ghost forgotten for the time being.

Blaine responds with a grin, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

--

Kurt wakes up earlier than usual the next morning. He thinks he still has school -- he doesn’t know how being removed from the music program works, but no one told him not to come and besides, he does have non-music classes to keep up with, even if he doesn’t necessarily want to. He gets ready as usual, leaving breakfast out for his dad, and there’s still half an hour before Mercedes should be getting here.

Perfect. There’s something he needs to try by himself… for himself.

He heads out to the studio with his things, a fluttering feeling in his stomach, but it’s different from the feeling before he tried to play in class yesterday, like the butterflies had turned to stone and were rolling around inside him, weighing him down and making him nauseous. This time it’s promising, hopeful, familiar -- butterflies fluttering normally, peacefully.

The room is empty when Kurt pushes the doors open and drops his backpack by the entrance.

“Guys?” he calls hesitantly, to no response.

He wonders if he should be worried about where the ghosts might be, or relieved for if they really did leave after all, since that is what he wanted… but he realizes relief is not at all what he feels at that possibility.

But if the ghosts aren’t here, then all the better for what he wants to do, so he decides to ignore their absence for now.

Kurt walks up to the grand piano in the middle of the room, thinking. There’s something… something deep loosening in his chest -- something about Blaine and the others and their intense passion for music that is so different from the intense judgment and competition at school that made it so impossible for him to play yesterday.

The way Blaine had talked about music…

The one thing they lived for in the first place -- they can still do.

A gift.

Kurt spreads out the sheet music that he found yesterday, just placed on the piano lid without a glance and it’s still there, so Blaine and the others must have just taken a look at it. He recognizes his mother’s handwriting, achingly familiar and beautiful in a minimalistic way, the neat notes and lyrics, clean and legible even without the help of staff lines. His heart stutters and he gasps a little as he reads some of it -- he recognizes the song. Something his mom told him she was writing when she got sick.

Kurt used to be so involved in her songwriting, but as she got worse and Kurt grew away from the piano (and from his voice), he never asked about this song.

She’d finished it.

Here’s the one thing I want you to know, you got someplace to go…

And he needs to hear it.

His fingers tremble slightly as he places them gingerly on the keys over the starting notes of the song. It feels completely different than it did yesterday; he doesn’t know if it’s the lack of teacher and students watching, the insanity of yesterday evening in between, the song itself… but the stones turned back into butterflies and it almost feels like it did before….

He wants to play, to make music. For the first time in a year, he actually feels like he can. And he needs to.

And if -- when -- it unlocks the memories… he thinks he’s ready.

Kurt takes a deep breath and plays.

[luwupercal]

Someone once told me that I smelled like flowers and blood. What do you think the primarchs smell like?

Machine oil Perty, rancid meat Konrad and “incense so thick it gives you a migraine” Lorg aside, of course.

aside from a general “leather, whatever gunpowder they use in 40k, metal, a little sweat unless you’re ferrus, a little of soap when they’re freshly groomed, etc” vibe for most of them, here’s some embarrassingly in depth thoughts

lion - no matter how much time he’s spent fighting in a desert or politicking in a city he always kinda... smells like the woods and like pine and like dirt? it never Quite Leaves Him

fulgrim - at first sniff, rich perfumes, but once you really sink your nose in you start catching a sort of underlying permanent chemical whiff, just a little too acidic in your nose, that hasn’t left him no matter how hard he scrubs. he also tends to smell like a garage after hanging out with ferrus, especially when he spends time in ferrus’s forge -- usually it’s just him picking up the background smell, but he does do Forging Stuff with his sibling every so often (shoutout to ferrus canonically teaching him how to disarm bombs, possibly nuclear ones) and that definitely doesn’t help. post-slaanesh, rich perfume smell intensifies but also oddly... rots? it becomes fruitier and more rotten and kinda like garbage? somewhat carrion flower-like. it’s not that he himself has rotten, i don’t think, it’s more like he puts on carrion-smelling perfume. he can knock it off. the chemical smell also strengthens to the point where he starts smelling super strongly of it whenever he’s not perfumed up and he hates it so bad. like before he was just kinda emabrrassed but now he hates it and the more he hates it the stronger the smell becomes

perturabo - i don’t actually think he smells like motor oil? i’m not, like, enough of a perty knowledge haver to really elaborate on his smell. i think he’s tone of the most chameleon-y primarchs smellwise. like whatever he’s been doing he’ll pick that smell up. i also think hes just a Little musky like a Hint sweaty but i think everyone who wears his level of armor is a little sweaty also so horus would’ve shared that Dude Musk. it’s not even enough to be unpleasant really

khan - you know in romance novels when they’re like “he smelled like leather and sweat and it was somehow incredibly good on him” yeah. i think he smells like a guy who spends a lot of time outdoors Doing Stuff on a big open plain and i don’t think that’s an unreasonable assumption. any khan stans lmk if you have any additions to this

leman russ - okay, so. allegedly, wolves have a Really Particular Smell dogs do not have. i looked it up and some dude on quora described it as “They tend to have a somewhat spicy/musky wild-thing smell that’s strongest between their shoulders.” and that “For a human to detect these scents, one has to bury their nose in the animal’s coat or put your face in their tail.” so generally leman just smells like a guy but as soon as you get your face close enough to him he’s got that. He’s got it. He has the Wolf Smell. it’s, i presume, kind of nice, if you’re into that, but it sounds like something nicer in theory than in practice. i also think he smells the strongest of soap over/under/besides the Wolf Smell, idk why? it’s just the viking about him. i think vikings smelled like soap

rogal dorn - at first you think he smells oddly like mint? mint-ish? you’re not entirely sure how to describe it. only later does it hit you that he doesn’t smell like mint, he smells like Straight Up Cold, and it just smells minty bc of how it combines with his soap. there’s at least one space marine from another legion (one of the ones with wolves in their name pick your favourite) who swears to god he’s got some kind of ice bullshit going on because it cannot be that he just happens to have white hair and also smell like Cold. in reality it’s not really anything supernatural he just likes to keep the AC cranked to shit

konrad curze - rotting meat, blood, and metal, as you said, but he also just smells SO gross. like this guy never washes himself so hes just kind of caked in gross old blood and sometimes he traipses around alleys that smell like garbage and it’s super gross. he smells bad. i’m sorry to everyone who dislikes this but he just smells. bad. it happens

sanguinius - also smells of perfume, strongly, and just like Bird, from his wings, and a little something metallic? you can never quite pinpoint it. ...well, horus figured, at one point, but that was a long time ago

ferrus - smells SO fucking metallic. like just . have you ever Really sniffed a huge piece of steel? yeah. he also smells really badly like a garage besides that. machine oil, grease, the whole shabang. also: the primarch who Least smells like dude sweat

angron - sweaty. so fucking sweaty. i think angron is probably the sweatiest primarch. they hose him down sometimes but i don’t think he’s ever taken a decent bath ever in his life. i think if he’d taken a bath at some point, the only possible point being like shortly after being picked up by the imperium because no way in hell is he trying that by himself years n years later, but if he’d taken a bath and been impressed by how just nice it is he’d be a daemon prince of slaanesh now instead and i can’t quite articulate why i think this. also just old blood? caked in blood smell. all the world eaters smell like blood post-Official Chaosing just 24/7. all daemons of khorne and to lesser extent all khornates who are Gone Enough into khorneism also smell just... metallic and blood. it’s a lot

guilliman - pretty average just Primarch Smell but smells a lot less than other primarchs. also smells a lot more of soap. every single day guilliman hasn’t showered/bathed has been suboptimal, whether because of lack of access to water or lack of access to free time, they’ve all been suboptimal. post-yvraine bringing him back, he less smells like and more carries around the smell of poison with him, as well as being a lot sweatier, just from the armor, which canonically he can’t remove but we all ignore that lmao. he’s tried rubbing soap on it. he’s desperate

mortarion - you know damn well how mortarion smells

magnus - another extremely perfumed primarch! lots of scented oils going on. has one of those hair routines where he can’t wash it every day but instead he puts like oils in it and fluffs it up, you know that sort of more elaborate hair routine than just washing it whenever you shower with shampoo and conditioner...

horus - the strongest just Leather Smell of the primarchs because of his Louch and his Ledsheets and his Lants and his Lacket and . just. Horus likes wearing leather. also smelled a lot like sweat while wearing that fuck huge thick boy armor and a lot like misery after molech. strong shaving cream smell around his entire skull too

lorgar - incense like you said, but also perfumes, and oddly like old books? (the good smell of old books, the nice one you get when you sniff in deep, you know the one) like even if he hasn’t been in an old library for a really long time, he still Has It. i think it’s the universe’s joke, like, he doesn’t need to be around old books when he’s already one, considering how long he’s been around and how written-on his skin is. the Book Smell is usually drowned out by the incense and perfumes and stuff though

vulkan - also smells like a garage, but less so than ferrus. still pretty intensely like a garage though. definitely sweatier than ferrus, like not particularly sweaty compared to normal people but ferrus is sweatless to a point where you fear him, so there’s that? i also kinda want his resurrective abilities to have a particular smell to them, too? i’m not sure if i want it to be purely metallic or have more additions, but it just smells like fresh meat and blood and bone sometimes, and the smell of whatever his last death was if it had one.

corvus corax - HAS NO SMELL. AT ALL. IT’S UNCANNY. he has tried. it just never sticks. nobody knows why. it freaks people out sometimes

alpharius omegon - constantly changes smell. you know how it is

[bl1ndbraavosi]

Stalking you bc I haven’t been able to be on tumblr lately. Seeing those prompts from earlier today and give me number 37 pls, dealers choice 🥰

hehe hi ty this is way longer than i anticipated but I COULDNT STOP so pls accept #1 Most Terrible Babysitter Rokudaime Hokage (under the cut bc she is kinda long for tumblr)

37. "What happened to their happily ever after?" "Not all those love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it's just once upon a time"

-

There was something to be said about the fact that his most gifted medic was, for all intents and purposes, a single mother to a very precocious child. Sarada was the spitting image of Sasuke, but everything in her countenance screamed Sakura. He never knew a child to be so shrewd. Well, aside from himself, anyway.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have gotten involved. But, these circumstances were anything but normal; Sakura was his former pupil-become-friend. Sort of. He couldn’t very well demand her presence at the hospital and leave her young daughter to her own devices within the Uchiha compound.

No, instead, he’d demanded that one of the other parent-type shinobi take on the littlest Uchiha for the night. They had all adamantly refused, and now he understood why.

Sarada peered at him over her red-rimmed glasses, strapped to her little head with a thick rubber band, but all the ridiculous spectacles in the world could not diminish the dark eyes narrowed at him in suspicion as he paraphrased and skipped over entire sections in the bedtime story he was meant to be reading her.

“That’s not how it goes,” she said for the fifth time in the last five minutes.

“If you already know how it goes, why am I reading it?” he challenged. Her eyes narrowed further.

“Because I’m five and my mama said you have to,” she said.

“You know, she really takes orders from me? I’m her boss,” he pointed out, not entirely sure what he expected this five-year-old to do about it.

“Mama doesn’t take orders from anyone,” she said with a proud smile, like Sakura had trained her to say it. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she had done just that. He slumped over in the tiny wooden chair that was definitely not built for a grown man.

“Alright, kid, I’m gonna level with you; I’m not cut out for this bedtime story thing.”

“You’re telling me,” she said with a little scoff, popping her arms out from under her blankets to take the book from his lap. She flipped through the pages, skimming over all of them until one of them pleased her. “These aren’t my favourites, anyway,” she admitted. “My favourite is when mama tells me different stories. Without reading,” she said, her dark eyes big and imploring.

“You want me to make it up?” he asked doubtfully. Her cheeks went a little pink.

“Did you…know my dad?” she asked timidly. Kakashi got the feeling Sakura was not one to entertain this request very often, if Sarada’s shifty eyes and pink cheeks were anything to go by. “Could you tell me about him? And mama?”

“No way,” he said, knowing Sakura was probably going to give him shit for it later. But, right now, his main concern was that he was sat on a chair built for a toddler, and his legs were quickly going numb. At this rate, he would have to ask the ANBU guards stationed outside this house to carry him home. “I’ll tell you something better,” he promised.

Mollified, Sarada tucked herself lower into her bed, staring up at him impatiently. He launched into the story of her parents without telling her it was about them.

Sasuke and Sakura; where to begin. He supposed the beginning would do. So he started her off with their beginnings as he knew them; the genin team, where Sakura had been the brightest by far, but often overshadowed. Sarada, an academy student herself, was deeply invested in the details of Team Seven’s early days. Before he knew it, she was yawning uncontrollably and those dark eyes were falling shut despite all her efforts.

He made himself a tea and sat on the big couch in their house until Sakura came slumping in after a long night at the hospital. She was surprised to see him there, thanking him profusely before pouring herself into her own bed.

-

The next time it happened, he hadn’t even bothered asking anyone else to look after Sarada, even though he promised Sakura he would. Now that he knew how to get the little demon to conk out quickly, it would be a walk in the park. Besides, Sakura had bragged to just about everyone that Sarada apparently loved him, and wouldn’t stop talking about him. He just hoped the girl kept their story to herself.

She didn’t even bother with a book this time; she just laid on her pillow and stared up at him until he began. The story took an unpleasant turn here, and he was worried about telling her all the hardships her parents had faced as children. He shouldn’t have been; this was a reality of the shinobi world, a world that Sarada was a part of. Still, he tried to handle Sasuke’s running away and various attempts at killing Naruto and Sakura as delicately as possible.

“Didn’t he love them?” Sarada asked, looking sad.

“Yes, he did,” Kakashi said with absolute certainty. “But sometimes that’s not enough,” he finished.

“You shouldn’t leave people you love,” Sarada said adamantly, and Kakashi realized that perhaps this was not the version of this story to be telling her. Thankfully, she drifted off shortly thereafter.

It was a while before his storytelling was put to the test again, but it seemed no time had passed at all for Sarada. She was as deeply invested in the story as ever, bursting with questions and ready to hear more.

He jumped right into it; talking about a formidable clan, a noble and strong clan, and Sasuke’s dedication to that clan. He skipped over the nastier intricacies—like the slaughter and fratricide—and focusing in on the devotion Team Seven had for one another. Sarada didn’t seem overly suspicious of his sugar-coating, and allowed him to continue on uninterrupted. 

“Why did they keep fighting so hard to save someone who didn’t want to be saved?” she asked, a little knot appearing above her brows, just as Sakura’s did when she worried.

“That’s what you do for family,” he explained. “You stick by them, no matter what.” Her knotted brow eased slightly.

The next story time brought them to the war; the rejoining of forces, Sasuke’s return to Konoha’s side, fighting alongside his remaining family, and saving the world. Sarada seemed a little more appeased by this part of the story, taking particular interest in hearing about Sakura’s healing prowess on the battlefield.

“She saved all those lives?” she asked with wide eyes.

“Yes, but let’s not forget it was a team effort. The leader also saved many lives,” he said, the leader being him. She didn’t particularly care. He wondered if Sakura had actively instilled her general disregard for him as a leader in her daughter, or if this behaviour was hereditary.

The only thing more impressive than Sakura keeping Naruto’s heart pumping by shoving her hand into his body was the fact that she had punched a goddess in the face.

“And then she saved her other team members? After all that?” she asked, her eyes wide. Kakashi realized belatedly that he had meant to tell her a small romance about her parents, but instead had exalted her mother for the better part of it all. He supposed that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Perhaps Sakura wouldn’t be so mad at him, should she find out.

But, of course, impudent as she was, Sarada made it clear that he would likely never be safe from Sakura’s wrath.

“So, they went through all that to save him, but he still left,” she said, a deep line appearing between her brows.

“He left to protect them,” Kakashi explained. Sarada did not look convinced.

 “He didn’t leave for her,” Sarada said, rolling her eyes behind those thick red frames. “Does he come back?”

“Yes, eventually,” Kakashi said, feeling uneasy. “But he leaves again because he thinks it’s the right thing to do.”

“He’s wrong,” Sarada said. “I’m five and I know that. What happened to their happily ever after?” she complained. Kakashi had forgotten among all her quips and questions that she really was just a five-year-old girl.

“Not all those love stories get a happily ever after. Sometimes it's just once upon a time.”

“This story sucks, Hokage-sama,” she complained.

He found himself agreeing. He had always kept his reservations about Sasuke’s absence to himself, but it was hard to deny that his daughter certainly seemed to have a better understanding of duty than he did currently.

“Do you think my dad will come back?” she asked suddenly. “Do you think he loves us?”

“I’m sure of it,” he answered as quickly as his mouth would let him speak.

“But he’s not here now,” she said, her eyelids slowly getting heavier and her words slurring with sleepiness. “I’m glad you’re here, Hokage-sama.”

“Me too, kid.”

“Does that mean we’re family?” she asked softly. He didn’t know what to say.

“I guess it does.” And just like that, she was out.

-

“Hey, Kakashi?” Sakura poked her head into his office, her brow knotted and eyes narrowed at him.

“Hm?” he answered, barely sparing her a glance as he reviewed his pile of mission scrolls.

“Just a quick question for you,” she said, her voice dripping in suspicion. He felt his shoulders tense. “Why the fuck does my daughter keep telling people you’re her dad?”

[yukichouji]

So, first question from the Dragon Age OCs asks bc they're all so good and I want to ask so many of them

For Theron and Mahanon: What demon would they be most susceptible to and how would the demon best manipulate them?

(Take as much time as you want ^^)

Hey :D Thank you so much for your ask! <3 <3 <3

Feel free to send as many as you like xD I always enjoy these ask memes way too much :) And we're starting right with the really good questions too xD

Well, for Theron, I'm pretty sure it would be Desire. Especially early on in his story, when Duncan has not yet found him and he hasn't met Zevran, yet. He spent many years in love with his best friend, hopelessly fighting the feelings he shouldn't have and knows could never lead anywhere, even if Tamlen had returned them. He has a strong sense of honor and he never once tried to act on his feelings or betray his friend's trust in any way. He'd not have been able to live with himself if he had. But that kind of thing, it eats away at a person. And a desire Demon, luring him in with the illusion of a Tamlen who would love him back instead of push him away, who would want him just the same. That would have probably been something very hard to resist for him.

As for Mahanon, I think it would probably be Rage. He's not exactly one to anger easily or lash out at others and he's always been curious about the world around him, eager to learn and doing his best to keep an open mind and not judge too quickly. But, while life with his clan wasn't always easy and they definitely had their unpleasant run ins with humans out for blood, always skirting along borders and taking measures to keep themselves protected, he still grew up somewhat detached from the full weight of it. Isolated as the dalish chose to live. Being thrust into his role as the so called 'Herald', while frightening enough on its own, also served to drive home a lot of sad truths about how the world around him treats those they view as 'other'. He's always been aware of his people's history and the danger humans can pose to his kind, but his clan had perhaps been luckier than some and so a lot of those still remained stories in a sense. Just abstract enough to not bitter him completely or scare him away from the thought that there might be a chance for some kind of peace, a way to overcome differences and try to move closer to one another again. Now he's faced with the stark reality of it all, not only in regards to how elves are treated in general, especially those that live in the cities amongst the humans, but anyone who forms a convenient enough target. Be it mages, or the poor, the Qunari. Seeing those in power shrugg of their fates and happily spread hatered and death and suffering for their own gain, treating it all like a game. It is hard not to feel enraged by all of it. Even without a demon involved he's been struggling with the lure of using the power that was thrust upon him by pure chance to strike back, to exact some kind of revenge for what he's seen. Luckily the knowledge that he would mostly just end up bringing more sufferng upon those he'd want to protect is enough to keep the notion at bay and help him focus on what really matters. Not to mention the giant hole in the sky and the ancient magister half-god something with his army of red templars threatening to destroy the world. That kind of takes up a lot of attention. But yeah, I think rage and the lure of being able to strike back at the people responsible for his own and other's suffering would be it for him. Especially since rage is an emotion that is usually so keenly supressed and kept in check for him.

[animatedarchives]

one stormy night • a risky revenge (part i) || shinso x reader

a/n: HI BABIE i felt so bad that i mistook you for someone else (bc hers was the only todoroki request i got,,,) that i just hAD to churn this out as an apology :((( i will also be splitting this into two parts because it was getting pretty long hehe anyway, i hOPE YOU ACCEPT THIS APOLOGY T^T and i hope you enjoy it~ thanks for requesting bb i love you uwu (P.S. clarissa if you see this i pRomiSe i’ll have your shoto request out soon i’m sORRYSKCNINHNC)

► genre: aNGST and fLuFf

► warnings: mentions of cheating 

► word count: 2.9k words

The rain hit harshly against your window pane as you looked out at the stormy sky. It was currently 3am and you were wide awake, despite having training in approximately four hours. You’ve been trying to fall asleep for the past two hours but for some reason, your just body wouldn’t allow it. You groaned into your pillow and closed your eyes for what seemed like your tenth attempt to fall asleep. But something inside you was keeping you awake - a strange, unnerving feeling in the pit of your stomach that something was amiss in the world. 

Just as you were getting into a comfortable position, you heard a pounding at the door and your eyes opened. You convinced yourself it was probably just the thunder, refusing to get up and answer it. You pulled the blanket over your shoulders and shut your eyes again. You had to get at least some rest before training or you knew you wouldn’t perform.

Just then, thunder crashed dangerously outside your window and your door swung open to reveal a figure standing in the doorway. Your eyes shot open and you bolted up out of bed, adrenaline coursing through your body.

Villains?! At this time of night? It was the perfect stunt, really - planning a sneak attack while everyone fast asleep and unsuspecting. Taking a defensive stance, you held your arms out in front of you, ready to attack the stranger if need be. 

“Who are you? What do you want?” you questioned aggressively. The light from the hallway backlit their face, making it difficult for you to tell who it was.

“Relax, sunshine. It’s just me,” the silhouette said calmly, closing the door.

Sunshine?

“Toshi?” you called out into the darkness, your tense form relaxing slightly. 

“Well, who else would have the key to your room?” 

He paused, eyeing you protectively. “There better not be anyone else with the key to your room.” 

Hearing his familiar voice, you sighed with relief and let your hands drop to your side.

You and Shinso have been friends for years now, having known each other since childhood. You guys lived in the same neighbourhood, went to the same school, and were even in the same class. You two literally grew up together and have been inseparable ever since. You knew each other inside out and could recite anything and everything about the other from the back of your hand. One of your favourite memories together though, was the day your quirk manifested - the day you got a nickname that would unknowingly stick for all the years to come. 

You and Shinso were laying on the lush, green grass next to each other, basking under the warmth of the summer sun. The gentle breeze combed through your hair and you closed your eyes in ignorant bliss. All seemed well until suddenly, you felt something strange bubbling inside of you - a tide of energy that was threatening to overflow. You sat up and grabbed your right hand, your sudden movements garnering Shinso’s attention as he sat up with you.

Your eyes widened as warmth rushed to your fingertips, causing them to glow. Realising what was happening, you looked towards your best friend, who seemed to grasp the situation too. In fact, he looked equally if not more excited than you did. He had always idolised the idea of being a hero and couldn’t wait to have his own quirk. He watched eagerly with his large innocent eyes, honoured to be part of your special moment. 

The glow intensified and slowly but surely, you were able to produce a small ball of light from the palm of your tiny hand. 

“Look!” you gasped, eyes shining as your mouth gaped in awe. “It’s so bright!”

“Yeah! It’s like the sun!” Shinso beamed, pointing to the burning white sphere in the sky. Then, his eyes lit up. “I know! Next time when we become heroes, you should call yourself Little Miss Sunshine,” he suggested, practically radiating with enthusiasm. 

“Okay!” you giggled. You liked the sound of that name. He knew you would. 

“Well come on, Sunshine!” he said grabbing your free hand in his. “We have to show your parents!” he exclaimed, dragging you behind him as you squealed with excitement. 

The tension in your body subsided as the intruder identified himself and you sat down on the edge of your bed. Ignoring the unpleasant squelching that filled the room, you pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned.

“Just because you have my key does not mean you can barge into my room at 3am in the morning!” you chided, rubbing the tiredness from your face. “Some of us actually do sleep, you know.” 

It was apparent you weren’t going to bed any time soon, which made you feel very frustrated to say the least. “What on earth are you doing here anyway?” you sighed exasperatedly, wondering how much caffeine you’d have to down to be able to keep your eyes open in the morning. 

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating your room and finally allowing you to see your best friend’s face for the first time that night. You paused, body frozen as your thoughts came to a halt. 

Your gut was right: something was amiss.

Shinso was dripping wet, completely drenched from head to toe. Even though he was a good distance away, you could tell that he was shivering; his cold, wet shirt stuck to his body, perfectly defining each and every one of his muscles. You watched as a small pool of water gathered at his feet. Was he out in the rain? Your eyes wandered to his face, the same one you’ve known for all these years. His violet orbs were dark and tired - strangely more than usual. And as you looked more intently, you found an emotion swirling within them that tugged at your heartstrings: a deep-set sorrow. 

“Toshi, what happened?” you asked as you approached him, eyes full of concern as you searched his face. His eyebrows were creased and a huge frown settled upon his soft, pink lips. Water glided across the crevases on his face, but you couldn’t tell if the wetness was due to the unforgiving rain or if it were something else. You hoped to God it was the former. 

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He shut it again, trying to find the words to say. But he couldn’t. Or maybe he just didn’t want to. It was too painful to face the brutal reality of the world. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t tell anyone. He had a habit of bottling things up because he hated showing his true emotions. He hated being pitied. His whole life, everyone had ridiculed his dream of becoming a hero because of his brainwashing quirk. He would never forget their looks of sympathy as they shook their heads. “What a shame,” they would say. “You’d be a much better hero if you were born with another quirk.”

But you weren’t like the rest. You were never like the rest. You never cared about what type of quirk Shinso had; you loved him regardless. The day his quirk manifested, the rest of the children scrambled away in fear. Yet you remained at his side, holding his trembling body and comforting him as he cried in your arms. You were the only one who believed in his seemingly unreachable dream. You always gave him that small hope to cling on to when all seemed lost. He knew he could trust you. You were the only one he could be vulnerable in front of and safely lean on for support. You were his rock, his shelter in the storm.

He inhaled deeply. “We broke up,” he finally admitted. “She cheated on me.”

Even with the thunder crashing in the background, you could hear the heartbreak in his voice.

“Toshi… I’m so sorry…” you said as you placed your hand on his arm in an effort to comfort him. You could feel his tense muscles through the thinness of his wet shirt and the shaking that came along with it. Whether it was from the cold or the emotion, you couldn’t say for sure. Perhaps it was both. 

“It’s okay,” he exhaled, straightening his posture to appear stronger than he felt. But you knew. You knew he was crumbling inside.

“No, it’s not,” you sighed walking towards your wardrobe. “I know you really liked her, Toshi. She must be blind to not see how good of a man you are,” you said, trying to conceal the venom in your voice as you pulled something out of the cupboard. You always hated her and never understood what he saw in her. But you knew how much joy she brought him, so you begrudgingly let it slide. You just wanted him to be happy.

“Well, I know you didn’t come here for nothing so if you want, I’m always here to talk,” you said, offering a gentle smile as you turned to face him. “But first,” you handed him a sweater and a pair of joggers. “Go change before you catch a cold.”

He smiled gratefully as he took them, your kind gesture reminding him how much you truly cared. He looked down curiously at the clothes, feeling the strangely familiar material between his calloused fingers. “Are these mine?” he chuckled lightly, eyes seeming to brighten just the tiniest bit. 

You scoffed playfully. “Yes, and now I’m returning them to you,” you smiled, full of mock innocence. You borrowed it from him a while ago but had completely forgotten about it until now. You guessed it was good that you held on to it. “Hurry up before you get sick,” you ordered impatiently, trying to hide the worry in your voice. 

He shook his head at your silly antics. “Yes, mother,” he said and proceeded to take off his shirt.

“OH MY GOD, NOT HERE YOU DUMBASS! THERE’S A TOILET FOR A REASON!” you exclaimed embarrassedly, trying to look anywhere but his magnificently toned body. 

“Oh please, don’t act like you’ve not seen me shirtless before,” he replied nonchalantly. You sputtered, unable to come up with an adequate response. He was right, of course; you had seen him shirtless countless times before - hell, you’ve probably seen him full on naked as a child. However, that still wasn’t enough to rid you of the deep red blush you hoped so dearly would be concealed by the darkness of your room. You mentally slapped yourself. Relax. He’s just changing, it’s no big deal. Yet for some reason, you could not suppress the persistent feeling of something fluttering in your stomach. You shook your head vigorously, clearing your head. It was probably nothing. You guys were just best friends after all.

Right?

No longer sopping wet, he lay down on your bed, sighing with exhaustion. You sat cross-legged on the floor, letting him have the bed because he was having a bad day. You watched him wordlessly, waiting for him to start talking, but he never did. You didn’t want to push him, but you knew that you had to help him face his emotions if he was going to heal. It was going to be difficult, but you knew it was necessary.

“For the record, I always thought you were too good for her,” you broke the silence, not knowing what else to say. He smiled softly as he stared at the ceiling, contemplating your words. 

“That’s funny, I always thought she was too good for me,” he laughed, but it was anything but joyful; it was cynical, bitter and sad. You couldn’t help but feel angry at her for dimming the light in Shinso’s eyes and making him doubt himself. To you, he was the perfect guy and there were so many things you loved about him. He was smart, observant, protective, respectful, caring - the list could go on forever.

But above all, he was insanely hard working and always pushed himself to achieve whatever he had set his eyes on. This applied to all areas of his life, whether it was how relentlessly he pursued the girl he loved or how he was always skipping out on sleep to train, just so he could master his quirk. He might have marketed it as nothing but an admirable trait on the outside, but you knew the hidden reason behind his fervor: doubt.

No one doubted themselves more than he did, especially with everyone questioning his dreams from the day his quirk manifested. His abilities were supposed to be a blessing, yet he saw them as nothing but a curse. Because of the constant self-doubt he harboured from such a young age, he was always his worst critic. You knew he was constantly pushing himself to prove to himself and others that he was worth something. You knew how hard he was on himself when he thought no one was looking. You knew that despite him putting in his best efforts, he always felt like it wasn’t good enough. Like he wasn’t good enough. And the thought that someone had given his doubts weight and made him feel like it was even remotely true when it wasn’t, sparked something within you. Anger consumed your mind as you watched him drown in hopelessness until finally, you reached your tipping point. 

“Shinso Hitoshi, I will not sit here and let you mope about yourself! You are the most amazing guy I have ever met and any girl would be lucky to have you!” you exclaimed, hoping your words would get through to him. 

“Well considering the fact that she cheated and dumped me, I’d say evidently not,” he said dryly. You deflated. You knew Shinso was the type who appreciated actions rather than just words but you didn’t know how-

Your eyes lit up as an idea hit you.

“I know! We’re going to show her what she’s missing,” you said.

He gave you a sideways glance, cocking an eyebrow. “And how exactly are we going to do that?” he asked. 

“You sir, are going to date me.”

He blinked at you twice before laughing. “You can’t be serious,” he said amusedly. At least the smile he gave this time was genuine. 

“Am I ever not serious?” you joked, hoping to keep this light mood.

He scoffed. “But you know I’d never date you, Y/N. You’re my best friend,” he said. It was true: you guys were best friends. 

So why did the thought that he never considered you as anything more put a slight ache in your heart? 

You brushed your thoughts aside, convinced it was nothing. “It’s pretend dating, stupid. Think about it,” you scooted closer to the bed, intent on selling your idea. You had to show him somehow that he was actually more amazing than he gave himself credit for.

“Imagine seeing her dumbfounded face as you stroll in class tomorrow with a new girl by your side, showing how unaffected you are and that you were able to move on faster than she ever expected you to. Plus, I know you don’t love talking to people, so this is perfect because everyone would be able to see it without you even saying a word!” you said. He watched as you gestured animatedly while giving your pitch, the ends of his lips slowly curling upwards. 

“Consider it… silent bragging,” you suggested slyly, wiggling your eyebrows as you finished your speech. He turned to lay on his back again and draped his arm over his eyes. 

“You know, considering my specialty is manipulating people, I have to say you are quite the snake,” he chuckled. You laughed as you punched his arm in response, not even putting a dent in his muscular form. 

“So, what do you say?” you asked hopefully. His smile slackened as he weighed the pros and cons in his head. You waited eagerly for his response, excited to take your revenge on the girl who had hurt your best friend.

“Mmm, okay,” he hummed quietly.

Astonished that he had actually agreed to a plan you were half-joking about, you spread down happily on the floor and sighed with satisfaction. “I can’t wait to see her stupid face when she sees us tomorrow,” you grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. But as you mulled over it, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were forcing this idea on him. Although you’d do anything to help him feel better, you’d never want to force him into something he wasn’t comfortable with.

“Hey Toshi,” you called gently, wanting to double-check. But he didn’t respond. “Toshi?” you called again, sitting up slightly. That was when you realised he had fallen asleep. He must have been exhausted. You watched as his chest rose and fell at a steady pace, his face calm and peaceful. You smiled softly, wishing you could protect him against the pains of the world. 

“Y/N…” he mumbled tiredly.

“Hmm?” you hummed in response.

“... Best friend hug…”

You giggled at his neediness and leaned over the bed to embrace him, inhaling the musky scent that exuded from his sweater. You leaned back and pulled the blanket up over his broad chest, letting him sleep on your bed for the night.

“She messed with the wrong people. We’ll show her tomorrow,” he said before drifting back to sleep. You smiled at his determination, your doubts put to rest.

“Goodnight, Toshi,” you whispered as you lay on the floor with your spare blanket, the storm continuing to roll in the background. 

You finally shut your eyes as you prepared yourself for the day ahead. 

The day when you would become Shinso Hitoshi’s fake girlfriend.

[skelelephant]

You should talk about jared hopworth more 👀👀👀 we would like to hear your thoughts about him

Hey anon, I saw your ask when you sent it four days ago and was immediately paralyzed by the enormity of my feelings for this meat man but now I am HERE I am READY I have an entire fucking essay

*slams a whole stack of notes onto the table*

Alright folks it’s infodumping time (speaking of which thank u so much for this opportunity I am eternally in your debt)

I’m putting the bulk of this under the cut bc it ended up being long and I don’t want to clog people’s dashes with my Boneturner analysis hehehfhfhs

So I’ve spent a LOT of time thinking about Jared’s story bc I connected with his character in a way that I was,,, wholly unprepared for, but here we are.

I think what I love most about his whole arc is that the transformation from “regular guy” into “horrible, Bad To Look At meat monstrosity” happens at the exact same time as his transformation from “high school bully who never grew up” to “chill gardener who just wants to tend to his plants.”

Jared’s story begins as a story about having a lot of expectations put on you because of the way you are and sort of growing into those expectations because that’s all you ever hear.

I think what rlly endeared me to him was when he commented to Jon how his dad loved how he towered over people, even when he was really young. As someone who’s also been considerably taller than most of her peers and even a good number of the adults in her life since she was young, I could empathize with the experience of being touted around and shown off bc you’re more than what you should be at that age. It leaves awkwardly large shoes to fill from a person that doesn’t exist outside of people’s perception of you, but you still find yourself struggling to fill them all the same. (Maybe that’s me projecting a little but I think it makes sense with Jared given how we know he ends up.)

And so with Jared, I think the positive emphasis on his physical appearance contrasted with intellectual and emotional pursuits being negative, (Sebastian did say he’d always been “thick as mud”,) I think the fact that he put the most stock in his physical abilities and based his self-worth around being bigger and stronger than everyone around him was really a self-fulfilling prophecy in terms of how he turned out.

Which brings us to his supernatural elements. Jared basing his entire self-worth around his physical strength and the power he could lord over others made him an ideal candidate for the Flesh. He gained a power that allowed him to take from others and make himself stronger for it, basically amplifying his already aggressive and destructive tendencies.

But underneath the obvious benefits, the Boneturner’s Tale gave Jared a way forward.

When Jon takes Jared’s statement in the Spiral’s corridors, Jared talks about trying to look ahead and see some sort of future for himself, but everything that had sustained him up until that point had stopped, and he was faced with the unpleasant reality that he had nowhere to go. His one actual friend had gone off to university without him and had moved on with his life, but Jared was still stuck.

The Boneturner’s Tale solved that problem for him and gave him a purpose, (thought he ended up being mostly self-serving.) Jared himself even admits that he doesn’t know what would’ve happened to him if he hadn’t gotten the book from Sebastian.

And then, after a life of meat crimes and bone stealing, we find Jared Hopworth in a garden.

And I cannot fucking TELL YOU how much I’ve thought about the significance of Jared’s domain being a garden.

Throughout his life, both pre and post-Flesh avatar, Jared’s used destruction and intimidation to preserve his self worth. He “wrecked” his high school, he only had one friendship ever that wasn’t built entirely off of fear (and he killed Seb himself,) and he only ever used his Boneturning abilities to hurt and kill those around him. (Even the people in the gym ended up being intimidated by Jared, so you can’t really count them as friends.)

But his domain isn’t the meat processing plant we see later on, or the endless butcher shop, or even a bigger version of the gym— it’s the Mortal Garden.

A place where Jared is actively nurturing the plants under his care. (I use those words loosely, of course, we all know what it was.) That in itself demonstrates how Jared’s intentions have shifted.

And the characterization in his interaction with Jon and Martin also goes to show just how much Jared’s changed over the course of his time as the Boneturner. Jared knows Jon’s going to kill him, and at first it seems as though he’s going to resort back to his old ways and fight Jon using brute force.

But then Martin asks him to stop.

Martin, who by all accounts is exactly the kind of person who Jared would’ve looked down on before as someone weaker than himself.

Martin, who is entirely smaller than Jared’s monstrous body and just does not measure up in the skewed point of view that Jared used to look at the world from.

(For the record, I don’t think Martin’s weak. I think he’s a very kickass man and I love him sm. This is just me looking at him through Jared POV so it’s a little toxic oops—)

But the point of that scene is that Jared does stop. And while he probably holds no respect for Martin, he does listen to him in the end.

And I just keep thinking about how pre-Boneturner Jared wouldn’t have backed down from that fight. His pride and his self-worth being attached to being the biggest and the strongest wouldn’t have allowed him to accept that he was outmatched. If Jared truly kept the same mindset he had at the beginning of his story he would’ve died trying to kill Jon and Martin before Jon got him, and he would’ve lost.

But instead he asks to hear about his garden, and before he dies his last thoughts are of what will happen to it after he’s gone.

Hshdhfhdhsha so that’s it!! Cheers to you if you actually read this whole thing bc honestly there’s probably very few people who actually care enough about Jared Hopworth to read a whole character analysis about him. Honestly I’m just happy to have an excuse to talk about him bc I love this horrible meaty man so so much and if he’s only remembered by that one comment about Martin being Jon’s boyfriend I will perish

[one-leaf-grimoire]

Catfish (3/3)

Finally, the "finale"! However, I will release a 4/3 bonus chapter bc ya'll are whores and so am I. Enjoy :)) I know this was kind of a random and cringy idea but hey it was fun to write!

Warnings: catfishing, fluff, slight sexual content, Yami being a concerned father

And so, a whole month went by. You found yourself visiting James probably more than you should have, but it was only when you either had time off or were done with all your work. Honestly, there wasn't a better way to spend your time. The two of you spent hours exploring the castle and hiding from the staff that wandered the area. James regularly snuck you into the kitchen late at night to get snacks and a little alcohol. He showed you his favorite place on the roof to watch the stars, and your favorite place to be was in his arms as he stared up at the sky longingly.

He was a perfect gentleman, all the time. You could listen to him for hours as he talked about the new things he'd encountered, and you loved getting into those discussions with him. But other times, you were both content to just lay together in the library and read a book.

That strange, unidentifiable emotion was still held within those tired yet excited eyes, the eyes that didn't belong on this boy's face. Slowly but surely... you found yourself getting lost in them.

You were falling in love.

"Hey, here's another letter from your loverboy." Yami examined the seal for a moment before tossing it to you.

"Thanks, Yami!" You opened it immediately and scanned it over. Good timing! You had the day off tonight and tomorrow, and so did James. Your heart started to pound when you spotted the sentence towards the end: Perhaps you can spend the night with me. I would like that a lot.

Oh boy. You blushed and quickly folded the letter up again, getting it out of sight. Even though the phrase "spend the night" appeared chaste, you knew exactly what he meant.

"Well, I'm off. Don't burn the building down while I'm gone." Yami was heading towards the door, broom in hand. Apparently he had a meeting with the Wizard King today. "Get your work done as well, don't just stand around."

"Yes, captain!" the Black Bulls chorused in reply.

Before long, Yami was walking through the castle, but paused as he reached the turn towards the Royal Library. Maybe I should go check out this James guy... I need to make sure he's not a jerk or anything, he thought to himself. Not only that, but he had always had a strange feeling about the whole thing, ever since you first mentioned James, but he didn't know why.

Unfortunately, his suspicions were confirmed as soon as he asked the current Librarian.

"James? You must be mistaken.. there's no James that works here. There's not even any young men that work here," the librarian told him sadly. "Maybe you're mixed up with another department?"

Yami's eyes narrowed. So, James was lying about his job? Or maybe you were. Either way, it wasn't a good situation. But he couldn't keep investigating now, he had to go give this report to Julius first.

"Thank you, Yami... you know, I think if you pushed your squad to work a little harder-"

"Julius, I run my squad how I want," Yami interrupted, staring over at the older man as he read through his folder. "That's why you gave me my own squad, right?"

Julius nodded slowly before breaking into his trademark smile. "Of course, of course. I would have liked to see you succeed like William, but-" Julius decided to shut up when he saw the glare Yami gave him. "Anyway, is there anything else you wanted to address?" Julius sat down and grabbed a stack of papers as he talked. With surprising quickness, he folded each one up, stuck it in an envelope, and sealed it with one of his many wax seals.

"Not really... that looks boring."

"Ah, it is. But it's my duty, one of many, hehe."

Yami sighed and let his eyes drift down to the growing stack of sealed letters, the wax already cooled into the stamped design.

"..."

"Yami?" Julius looked back up and froze when he saw how pale Yami was, as if he had seen a ghost. "Yami, is something wrong?"

"This seal..." Yami held up to envelope. "Is this... your personal seal?"

Julius raised an eyebrow, starting to feel nervous for some reason. "Er... yeah? I'm sure you've seen it before."

Yami nodded slowly. He didn't know what to feel, but all of the sudden everything was falling into place. "Yeah, I've seen it. You know, maybe this seems a little random, but-" Yami cleared his throat.

"There's this brat that's been seeing one of my squad members lately. Calls himself James. I've never seen the guy, but he sends her letters all the time, and she's always all heart-eyed and shit over him."

He studied Julius's face for a reaction, and he got one. Julius's smile fell as soon as Yami mentioned the name.

"I went to check him out earlier today, because he supposedly works at the library. Turns out, he doesn't. I was going to go investigate more after our meeting, but..." Yami held up the letter. "Maybe you can tell me why 'James' has been sealing his letters with your personal seal."

There was an excruciatingly long moment of unpleasant silence as the two men stared at each other, akin to a western standoff. Then, Julius deflated, letting out a long sigh as his shoulders slumped and he dropped his gaze to the floor.

"... you got me. I'm James."

He yelped in surprise when Yami's hand suddenly hit the desk in front of him. "I know that! What I want to know is if she knows she's dating the damn Wizard King?!"

Julius flinched at the anger in Yami's words. This must have looked really, really bad to the Captain, who was more than a little protective over his squad even though he wouldn't admit it. "...no, she doesn't."

Yami let put a sigh through his nose, not sure what to think. "...how the Hell did you get yourself into this situation, Julius."

"Well... I really didn't expect to meet someone like her at the mixer," Julius started to explain, shame welling up within him. "I just wanted to see what it was like, one thing lead to another, and..." He shrugged, unable to even look at Yami. He knew it was wrong, and he felt dirty for doing it. But all the while...

"It's been a long, long time since someone was interested in me. Me. Not the Wizard King. 'Oh, I'm so lucky to go on a date with the Wizard King!' 'I can't believe you like me, Wizard King!' That's all I ever hear, and I'm tired of it."

Yami didn't say anything, still kind of shocked that this was actually happening.

"I wish someone could just tell me, 'I love you, Julius.'"

"... you need to tell her."

"I know." Julius rubbed his face nervously. "Every time we're together, I want to, but I'm afraid she'll just get scared off, or act like I'm disgusting-"

"She would be right to do so." Yami sighed, then reached out to clap Julius on the back. I can't believe I'm the one that has to give advice to this old man. He should have known better. But I suppose you can still learn things at his age. "Look, just be honest. From the way she talks about 'James', she's attached enough that this once ruin things. She'll probably just be more shocked than scared."

"You think so?" Julius perked up a bit to look up at Yami. "I guess I'll have to do it eventually anyway... alright!" He suddenly felt determined. "I'll do it tonight!"

(That evening)

Just as planned, you and James met up at the library. It was already closed and you had the place to yourselves as usual, so you went and curled up on one of the large couches to start your reading/cuddle session. You smiled to yourself as James pecked you on the head, your cheek resting against his chest comfortingly. "I've been looking forward to this all day."

"Have you? I'm glad." James gulped nervously. "So... are you okay with staying the night?"

You nodded, blushing a little. "Yeah, I am."

James nodded twice, his heart rate picking up.

Shit! She's going to stay the night... I prepared for this... should I take her to the room then reveal who I am? No! She'd definitely freak out. So... I have to do it now. Or maybe tomorrow?

'James' mentally hit himself. No! If she spends the night, we're definitely going to end up going too far... I can't do that to her if she doesn't know the truth. I need to tell her now.

He couldn't put it off any longer. "Hey... there's something I need to tell you..." He looked down to see you looking up at him expectantly, that cute little smile on your face.

"Yes, James?"

He suddenly found himself forgetting what it was he wanted to say. "Never mind..."

One kiss won't hurt.

Easier said than done. His arms wrapped around you as you kissed back passionately, your lips and his fitted together perfectly. It was so good, too good, and he found himself pushing you over onto your back a moment later.

Julius! Get a hold of yourself! he thought frantically as he kissed your neck, coaxing a little whine that made him feel weak. He knew at this point he was just distracting himself, too afraid to face the decision he made earlier that day. Because, at this point, his worst fear was that he would lose you, the one person her had grown to love. But at the same time, it was because he loved you that he had to tell you, before-

"Ah!" You gasped out, and he realized that his hand had enclosed around one of your breasts.

He was immediately mortified, and the moment pulled him out of the haze and back to reality. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean-" He was about to pull back, but he couldn't. Your hand was resting on top of his.

"It's okay... I just didn't expect it to feel like that."

He gulped, frozen. "...you... you haven't been touched like that before?"

You averted your eyes, blushing profusely, but nodded yes to his question.

"...I'm sorry-"

"Don't be!" Your eyes suddenly snapped back up to his gaze, and his heart jolted at the emotion within them. No one had ever looked at him with so much... admiration. Not directed at a King, but at him.

"I-I want you, James... it's okay. I'm ready."

...oh god.

Slowly, he retracted his hand. You frowned a little as that emotion in his eyes got stronger, and all at once you realized what it was.

Guilt.

"I can't."

"...huh?"

"I can't lie any longer, I'm sorry. You deserve to know... even if I lose you."

His hands were shaking slightly and you started to feel a little scared. "...what do you mean? James-"

"That's not my name." The words just confused you even further. "I'm sorry... I'm the biggest piece of shit there ever was. I'll..." he squeezed his eyes shut. "I'll let you decide what you think when you see the real me."

You were about to ask what he meant, but then he started to glow. The golden light enveloped him, and before your very eyes James transformed into someone else.

You sucked in a breath, half of a gasp when you realized who it was.

"... W-W-"

Julius Novachrono opened his eyes to stare down at you, the words catching in your throat. How could this be possible? Was this all a joke? Your heart pounded violently in your chest as his eyes, those intense, guilty eyes, never left your face.

But you knew it wasn't a joke. Because for the first time, those eyes belonged on his face.

"W-Wizard King?"

A flash of pain moved through his eyes as the strained whisper left your lips. Wizard King... He could sense fear and shock in your voice, and he knew it was over. Julius sighed through his nose, and you felt his hand cup your cheek gently.

"... I'm sorry. Don't think about me any more."

With one last look, Julius moved to stand up and started to walk away.

You laid there in shock for a couple seconds before turning your head to watch him go. His shoulders were slumped, but his walk was graceful, his robe fluttering grandly around him.

But there was a weight to his movements. Not just the weight of his guilt, but...

The weight of loneliness.

A man, as great as him, could be lonely?

But he told you himself... you were exactly what he needed.

James... no...

"Julius!"

Julius stopped in his tracks at the sound of your voice saying his name for the first time. Someone grabbed onto him from behind, and his eyes widened at the feeling of their arms wrapped around him.

"Julius... I love you!"

After what felt like forever, Julius finally turned around to look down at your bright, happy eyes, shining up at him like two stars.

"...you really mean that?"

You nodded eagerly. "You're the most wonderful man I've ever met... and I don't want you to be lonely anymore. So..." You blushed a bit, and Julius felt himself start to smile. "Even though this was all a bit weird... let me stay by your side."

His arms were instantly around you, familiar warmth sinking you into bliss.

"Alright... thank you." He leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he clung to you tightly. He was already forgetting what it felt like to be lonely. "I love you too."

You only tore your gaze from his as you closed your eyes to lean up, letting him kiss you with his own lips for the very first time.

[rorykillmore]

posting up a birthday gift fic for @alula !!! aka i decided to ambush them by not telling them i usually do this for my friends’ birthdays until like yesterday, but it’s the same idea! this is basically just like 1000+ words of gay introspection for our one villaneve rp verse, but one time they attacked me w something they wrote re: eve trying to tell villanelle she loves her while the latter was sleeping and i guess i just filed that away in the back of my brain until i could find a way to get revenge.

anyway a few nice words: i hope you have a great birthday scully!!! and. this might sound like a very low bar bc 2020 has been awful for all of us i’m sure, but meeting you and becoming friends has genuinely ended up one of the brightest highlights of my year and i’m so glad we stumbled across each other bc we both wanted someone to yell about ke with.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 

‘Feelings that can’t be put into words’ has never sounded like anything but a challenge to Villanelle. There are 6,500 different languages in the world. It stands to reason that if you can’t find the words you’re want in one of them, you just have to look somewhere else. 

The problem is -- she knows the words she wants to say to Eve. She has them. They exist in all 6,500 of those languages.

She’s already said them once.

She wonders to herself, over and over:  if she said them again, would they ruin everything a second time?

The textbook definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. So Villanelle tries - in every way she knows how - not to be the same person she was before. Not to make the same mistakes.

“I want to tell you something,” Villanelle murmurs, catching Eve by the hand. It’s late, and they’ve just dropped Jin Ling off at his new apartment and packed it full of food and clothes (Villanelle had wanted to make sure he had clothes) and dog toys in preparation to move him in. Eve looks as tired as Villanelle feels when she turns back towards her, but the look in her eyes is as alert and questioning as it always is when she’s giving Villanelle her attention.

I’m listening. I’m usually listening when it comes to you,  Eve had told her once, and, I spent a ton of time listening to you before you even talked to me, and Villanelle had tucked all of those words away somewhere close to her heart.

They make Villanelle hesitate now, on the verge of something not for the first time.

(The first time had been the first night they’d spent together, in between the heated kisses Villanelle had trailed across her skin and in the contented quiet afterwards. Or after that, the night Eve had spent curled up in her lap after Villanelle had wiped away the tears she hadn’t quite understood in the moment.)

She deludes herself, in those few seconds in which Eve’s eyes meet her’s, that she’ll say it this time. But her throat starts to feel dry, and instead --

“I think I am starting to enjoy it.” Villanelle swallows and offers a crooked smile. “This... helping people?”

It isn’t a lie. So that’s something. It’s not the rush or the elation she remembers she used to get when she was hurting people -- it’s more like a quiet, contemplative sort of ache in her chest. She doesn’t know why she likes it. Maybe it’s the novelty of it all. 

Maybe it’s the way Eve looks at her now, the way she almost seems to soften at the edges. It wasn’t what Villanelle wanted to say, but the unguarded way Eve smiles back at her and doesn’t let go of her hand, it makes Villanelle decide that maybe it was worth it anyway.

It’s not as though she doesn’t have plenty of other chances.

She and Eve see each other nearly every day now. Most mornings start with them waking up together, and most evenings end with one of them outside the other’s door (or window, when it comes to Villanelle’s preferred method of entry). Villanelle starts to wonder how well she’d sleep in an empty bed, she’s gotten so used to tucking herself against Eve’s back, slinging an arm around her waist. She wouldn’t dare call it domestic, or normal, or any of the things Villanelle knows she can’t have and would never try to force Eve into.

But it’s... them. All the heat and passion and intensity Villanelle already knows so well, but also all of the smaller things that she is still learning that somehow feel equally a part of whatever they are. 

So it’s not as though the opportunities aren’t there. It’s just that it never feels like the right time.

She doesn’t want to scare Eve off or bring all their memories of Rome back into the forefront, and above all else, she doesn’t want to lie to her. Or to herself. And no matter how certain Villanelle is that she’s never felt this way about anyone else in her life, or that she wouldn’t have thrown her life as an assassin away and risked the terrifying reality of not knowing who she is for anyone but Eve, or that she might actually choose to die before ever hurting Eve again, she... can’t be sure that any of that counts as love. Because she doesn’t know what love looks like, or what it feels like, she doesn’t know if she really was wrong the last time she said it and she doesn’t know who to ask.

You don’t understand what that is. 

I want to, Villanelle thinks she should have said. I’m trying. I’m sorry. I’ll find a way to make it better, just know that I’m trying.

But that hadn’t been how Rome had ended. And since then, so much has happened, and Villanelle has had to ask herself so many unpleasant questions that she once would have preferred not to ever think about at all, but... 

Maybe that’s a part of it. Of trying. Because after she’d gone home to her family, to her mother, she’d almost forgotten that it was worth trying at all, and Eve had reminded her so effortlessly just by showing up here, in this strange, dreamlike alternate reality. And that has to mean something, doesn’t it? That Eve always makes her want to try?

That Eve takes her coffee black (sometimes), that she raised venus fly traps as a kid and loved a girl in college, that she had a chicken for a pet and loves cute newborn kittens and scrawny stray cats, and that she thrives on the arguments she pretends to hate, that she cares about people even when they’ve done very bad things, that she’s fighting all the time to figure herself out, to know herself, that it scares her all the time but that she does it anyway. All of that means something to Villanelle. She wants to find the words for how much she cares about every part of Eve that Eve ever lets her see, and they’re right there, Villanelle knows that, just --

She never knew that ‘knowing’ and ‘saying’ could be such complicated different things.

So what’s there to do, Villanelle decides, shying away from paralyzing nerves that don’t at all become her, except keep trying? 

“I want to tell you something,” she murmurs again a few days later, this time into the place where the slope of Eve’s neck meets her shoulder, where Villanelle can hide her face.  She knows that’s cheating, though, and eventually stretches out and lifts her head and props herself up on one elbow, smiling languidly down at Eve in an effort to pretend that her heart isn’t nearly beating out of her chest.

This time, it’s the morning after they’ve officially defined their... relationship. Villanelle has tried to play it cool, really - she had laughed and was appropriately incredulous when Eve had confessed she’d been texting Hanzo about them, of all people - but she’s also spent the last twelve hours (or what she’s spent of them awake and coherent and not preoccupied by Eve herself, anyway) tossing around the word girlfriend in her head like some giddy teenager.  

Eve, perhaps hoping Villanelle is about to reveal a similarly embarrassing story about someone she has consulted for advice about their relationship, raises her eyebrows expectantly. “Don’t hold me in suspense.”

“I...” Villanelle falters again. Swallows. Tries to fight off an inward surge of frustration at herself, because that will definitely ruin the moment. And maybe some of it shows on her face, in her eyes, some vulnerability or fear or just how much she feels for Eve, because Eve’s bemusement softens into something more like concern.

“Villanelle --” Eve reaches up, and Villanelle feels the warmth of her hand against her cheek. She remembers the first time, what feels like so long ago back in Eve’s kitchen when this very same gesture was used to disarm. Now it feels... different, and Villanelle leans into her touch without even really thinking  about it. “ -- It’s okay. You can tell me.”

Villanelle knows Eve too well not to sense her nerves. Maybe she’s already guessed what Villanelle wants to say, or maybe she hasn’t and it’s the uncertainty that’s killing her, but she waits for Villanelle anyway, tells her that it’s okay anyway, doesn’t prompt or push her or try to deflect. 

And inexplicably it’s not a big fireworks moment, but this small, singular instance of selfless, uncharacteristic patience that makes Villanelle certain. Or maybe she always has been, and it’s just that she needs Eve there in front of her, both their guards dropped, for it to feel tangible. 

Villanelle doesn’t know what she is or isn’t, whether her mother and the Twelve and everyone who’s ever told her what she’s supposed to be were right or wrong, but she knows that she loves Eve. If there was ever a person she was capable of shattering every expectation and defying all the odds to love, it’d be Eve. And if she can’t quite bring herself to say it yet... that doesn’t make it any less true.

She covers the hand resting against her cheek with her own and turns her head just enough to press a feather-light kiss to the inside of Eve’s palm, barely able to hide a smile when some of Eve’s quiet apprehension seems to melt. Then for good measure - and because she can’t stop herself - she leans down and kisses Eve properly, slow and somehow unhurried despite every feeling she is determined to pour into it.

And she hadn’t meant to linger, but Eve kisses her back without hesitating, and Villanelle’s always found it difficult to resist getting lost in her. So she gives in, doesn’t resist, and like always with Eve, finds there is something strangely grounding in letting herself get lost. She hopes Eve feels it too. She hopes that - for right now - it’s enough.

“I’ll tell you later,” Villanelle murmurs against her lips once she’s just barely pulled away, and tries to make it sound like a promise.

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

HAY. djwkf Can I maybe request 'Shit, how'd you make me blush like this?' (bc there needs to be more flustered Laxus) or 'Right.. Well.. I'm not sure how we ended up kissing like that.. ' for Fraxus?

Hello!! Here you go, both of the phrases are in it ! Fraxus fic under the cut

Watching the seconds tick away isn't an activity that Laxus is in any way, shape or form fond of, but he finds solace in the knowledge that eventually, the time for him to be released from this hellish place will arrive. He's the youngest in the room and now that the meeting is over, the old people have found a new form of entertainment in bothering him.

Curse his grandfather for demanding him to come along. Hell, the man hadn't even decided yet who'd become the next master. Technically, there's no reason whatsoever for Laxus to be here and to be ribbed as though he's their communal annoying nephew. He isn't.

Of course, it turns to the topic of dating. Laxus suspects that these people have got nothing going for them in their respective personal lives, so they're vigorously trying to live through him. When asked if there's anyone he's interested in, he plans to firmly deny by simply grunting. His mouth betrays him however, and before he knows it, he's adding fuel to the fire.

"Dunno." Oh. Oh no. He's opened the gates towards the possibility of old people giving him horrible advice and they are jumping at the opportunity. "That's not a no", Babasaama feels the need to say, grin adorning her face and Laxus shoots his grandfather a face that essentially says "please help me". His grandfather artfully ignores it, throwing dirt on the hole that Laxus dug himself into. Betrayal sure tastes good in the morning, especially served with a side dish of unpleasantness.

"Attraction is weird", is the answer he settles on, deciding that it's both vague and definitive enough to satisfy these hawks. It doesn't, so he tries to talk himself out of it. He really should've known better, should've been more self-aware. Although he's best friends with a master of words, he himself is anything but.

"You know...", he fumbles, "Or rather you don't, well I don't. What's love like? Like, strangers never really appeal to me. People who go on dates and say it was nice are definitely liars. Love is a bit of a scam, I think."

"Love doesn't have to be new and exciting, darling boy. Most of the time, it's comfort, a stability you build together." Although the added wink isn't necessary, the point master Bob tries to bring across does make sense. "Like home in a person", he states and immediately one person pops up in his mind. When he looks at the geezers, he can see that they're picking up on it. In return, the heat in his face gets worse and he scowls at them.

"Alright, that's enough", Makarov mercifully cuts in. "I'm taking my brat home. Laxus, kiss your aunts and uncles goodbye." Rolling his eyes, Laxus manages to somewhat politely nod at all of them. "Last time I checked, none of them are related to us."

"Family is in the heart, brat."

"If I have to cram that much people into it, I'll die."

"Too late, they're already there."

They keep bickering until they have to part ways. "See ya this evening. Freed invited you for a nice family dinner or something." Makarov raises a brow. "My grandson-in-law works harder for this family than you and I do. I'll be there."

The little 'grandson-in-law' comment doesn't really hit Laxus until he's stepping over the treshold of his own home. Deciding to put that thought aside, he enters the living room. " 'M home", he mumbles and lays eyes on Freed, settled comfortably on his couch. Seeing Laxus, he smiles. "Welcome home."

After that, he resumes tugging at the strings of his guitars and sings the sweet lullaby that Evergreen is very fond of. He seems to be completely unbothered by Laxus' presence. His green hair is loose and partly draped over his shoulder, the waterfall of silken strands effortlessly establishing a picture of elegance. The seamless image of elegance is continued in the man's whole posture, loose but dignified nonetheless.

Freed as a whole, is a work of beauty that Laxus finds himself appreciating at this very moment. As he lays his head down on Freed's shoulder, he marvels at Freed's muscled frame. Usually his form tends to be hidden by layers of clothes, masking brutal strength in a nice package. Most things about Freed are like that, deceptive. His hands are unblemished, nails manicured and taken care of. Once turned around, his palms are rough and calloused.

His manner of speech is to the point, effective and refined. That refinement easily turns into harsh word that shape an even harsher reality, if he so wishes. In eyes clearer than the bluest of skies, lurks a darkness that no storm Laxus could ever muster would compare to. Handsome, socially graceful, polished in both skill and manners, friendly (if he wishes to be so), smart... Freed truly is the sort of man that many only could wish to be.

"What are you thinking so deeply about?" Freed asks, halting his musical endeavours to place Laxus head in his lap, playing with his hair. Staring up at the man, Laxus finds himself momentarily unable to answer, reddening instead. "Ah shit, look at this." He covers his eyes with his arms and Freed, not known for being merciful, laughs at him. "How'd you make me blush like this?" he asks faux-accusingly.

"It's rather easy", Freed grins and the sight of it makes Laxus' heart skip a beat and his blush gets worse. "See?" Freed points out. "I think you're just easily affected by me", he continues smugly and Laxus makes a face at him. "Am I now?" he challenges the man, already knowing he's going to lose.

"I don't know", Freed hums, dragging his pointer finger from Laxus' jawline all the way down his chest, where he rests the finger. Laxus' breath stutters and the fingers drags back up, slow and tantalising, forming a hook under his chin and tilting it upwards. As Freed demands heavy and loaded eyecontact from him, he smirks. "But I like to think you are." He bows down, breath hot and heavy against the side of Laxus' neck as he whispers : "Wouldn't you agree?" in his ear.

When Freed draws back only to give him a charming smile and demands him to kiss him, Laxus doesn't even hesitate. He wants to convey as much worship and sensual heat as humanly possible, but doesn't really know how to. Luckily for him Freed is there, taking the lead and making his life easier as always. It's not purely the mouth-on-mouth part that makes his head spin (though that definitely contributes to it), it's mostly the tiny gasps that escape them as they reconnect, trying to leave as little time between kisses as possible. It's the moments where their eyes meet and say more than words ever could, the hand Freed has on the back of his neck, steady and sure. It's his cologne, it's the feeling of his other hand travelling wherever it could reach. The feeling of his own hands on the man's hips, in his hair. It's everything and somehow more than that.

Once they've calmed a bit down, he murmurs a bit out of breath : "Right...well...I'm not sure how we ended up kissing like that." Freed, who has decided that Laxus' chest makes for a nice pillow, flops around so they lay chest on chest. "Meetings with the elderly has never been particularly arousing, but if that's what gets you going...", the bastard trails off, smirk evident in both his voice and on his face. "You're a little shit", Laxus tells him and Freed laughs at that. "And I love you", he adds. "I see that you have your priorities sorted out", Freed dryly bemuses before kissing the tip of Laxus' nose. "I love you too."