#(the show states it is? but the answer was. no. listen I’ve got better things to do.

[drinkupthesunrise]

Generally, I don’t really do conventions anymore - I sort of feel I did enough in my teens and early twenties to completely exhaust myself - so of course, when I returned, it figures that I flew transatlantically to go to one.

Anyway, very much enjoying the 20th anniversary Battlestar Galactica convention, and very grateful to my colleague (also a fan but not a fly several thousand miles fan) who talked me into it being a good experience.

Please also enjoy this photo of Jamie Bamber sneaking to the front of the questions line to ask the writers / producers a tongue-in-cheek question about casting

[wcnderlnds]

first date | peter maximoff headcanons

・❥・summary: a series of headcanons of everyone’s favourite speedster on a first date・❥・warnings: n/a・❥・authors note: this started out great and then I lost my way but I still wanted to post it anyway <3 if you want to be added to my tag list please fill this out!

Asking you out would’ve been the easy part. Peter isn’t short of confidence so the second he realised he was catching feelings for you — something that didn’t happen very often for him — he’d make a move. It wouldn’t be anything grand. Maybe you’d been hanging out, trying to watch some movie but Peter had been talking all the way through it, occasionally stuffing Twinkies into his mouth. Through his talking, he’d casually drop “hey, so, want to go on a date or something?” Obviously, after the initial shock had wore off, your answer would be an immediate yes.

It was planning the actual date that was the hard part for him. Let’s be honest, Peter isn’t the most romantic guy on the planet. That paired with the fact he’d probably only been on three proper dates in his life (mostly opting for hook ups — fear of commitment say what) made it difficult. His first choice would have been the arcade but no. That was no place to take someone like you. You deserved much better for a first date. Luckily, the carnival was in town. Sure, he could’ve easily ran you to a different state or country to find one but he figured running across the world was at least a third date thing.

The day of the date is when the nerves would hit him but he’d hide it as best he could. As you walked around the carnival grounds marvelling at all the rides and games, Peter would be rubbing his sweaty palms on his shirt because there’s no way he’d ruin his jacket. When your hand did finally slip into his, he’d feel more at ease wondering why the hell he’d been so nervous anyway.

That was because he really liked you. It was evident in the way he determinedly tried to win you the biggest bear in the place. He stood throwing the balls, aiming for the cups. “We’re not leaving here until I’ve won you that giant ass bear, babe. That’s a promise.” And, he would. It’d take him only three games before he finally won you the thing. The smile on your face as he handed it over to you was worth trying a million times.

After you'd try out the rides, Peter would suggest grabbing a bite to eat. The guy is always hungry and the second he spotted the hot dog stand, he'd been dying to grab one. He'd find a spare bench for the two of you to eat and talk. This would be where you'd find out more about him. He'd tell you about his mom and sister -- how he was estranged from his dad (but he totally planned on telling him one day), how he first realised he was a mutant, his favourite video games, etc. And, in turn, you'd tell him all about yourself. He'd ask all the right questions, nodding along, chiming in when he could. Peter wasn't usually a good listener but when it came to you, he'd want to know anything and everything.

Peter would always have a hand touching you whether it was his hand in yours or his hand on the small of your back as you walked around, he liked knowing you were there. That you were with him. Maybe it was also to show off to anyone else that was eyeing you up, too. He was the one you had chosen, not them.

Internally, all through the night Peter would be trying to think of the perfect moment to kiss you. Did you even kiss on the first date? Would you even want to kiss him? There'd be times you'd have to knock him out of his thoughts. "Sorry, just got lost in how pretty you are."

When it came time to go, Peter would walk you home. It was one of the first times he'd want to go slow; savouring every second he got to spend with you.

The chill in the night air meant you'd probably be cold and Peter couldn't have that. He'd pull off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. When you'd question if he was cold since he was no only in his Rush shirt, he'd wave you off. "Eh, I'll be fine. You're more important. How can I take you out again if you get sick?"

'This is it', he'd think to himself as you stood on the porch of your house. This was the moment he'd kiss you.

His eyes would flicker to your lips, his hand almost hesitantly resting on your hip to pull you close. "I had an awesome time tonight..." He'd pause for a moment, his cheeks reddening slightly. "I really want to kiss you right now."

"Then do it."

Peter didn't need telling twice, his lips would meet yours in a slow, gentle kiss. The taste of your lips intoxicating his senses, knowing damn well that he would easily get addicted to you.

Actually, he already was. There was no doubt in his mind that there'd be many more dates in the future.

taglist: @strawb3rrystar @ldydeath @bohnerrific69 @honeymoon8 @jazzy-reads @mistysconcilium @marchsfreakshow @lacucarachapisser @decaf-mother

[rubberfuckey]

summary: After a worried phone call from Wheezie, you decide to come back to Kildare.

wc: 1.3k

a/n: This is set right after season three, let's pretend the time skip in the show doesn't exist (: This is my first post since 2020! Let me know what y'all think <3333 part two??? ;)

Eyes snapping open and with a rush of panic, you try to locate your piercingly loud phone tangled in the sheets somewhere next to you. Who the fuck would be calling me at whatever ungodly hour it is? Finally finding it, you damn near blind yourself with how bright it is and how unadjusted your eyes are. Squinting, too tired and agitated to read it, you swipe to answer the call like muscle memory. 

“Hello?” you huff.

“I’m sorry I know it’s late… but I have a favor to ask.”

“Wheeze? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Hearing her voice sits you straight up in your bed, she has never called this late or has ever asked of anything from you.

“I’m okay, kind of. I’m alive. It’s not me I’m worried about.”

“Wheezie-”

“I know,” she cuts you off, “nevermind it was stupid anyways.”

“No, Wheezie, talk to me.”

“It’s just, Rafe,” you flinch at hearing his name, “I’m scared. I’ve never seen him like this before. We know he’s already a pretty angry guy, but this is something different.”

You sit there quietly listening. You left Kildare a year ago, after a nasty breakup with Rafe and trying to break apart the unhealthy codependency you both developed. You transferred to a different state college but you always stayed in touch with Wheezie. Before you and Rafe went wrong, you were close with both his sisters and promised to stay in contact with the young girl you watched grow throughout your time with Rafe. No one knew of course, you and Rafe were completely no contact- opting to block his number after one too many heartwrenching voicemails while obviously under the influence of his favorite white powder. 

Sarah hadn’t tried to reach out, but from what Wheeze had mentioned she got herself distracted with a pogue-turned cop killer-who was proved innocent. What a shit show. You knew it all, countless Facetime calls caught you up to speed. You consoled her through the “death” of Sarah, the “death” of her father and what other trauma presented itself. Sometimes it was too much being constantly reminded of your ex, whom you still loved very deeply, but being there for this poor girl trumped how it made you feel. The feeling went both ways, she stopped you from coming back to the island quite a few times when she told you just how bad things have gotten, insisting that she would be okay, when in reality she really just needed a hug from her honorary sister. He was never brought up, you didn’t ask, she didn’t tell. Something in your gut told you it’s just better if you don’t know what had been going on with him. You appreciated her respecting that boundary. 

“The club is hosting some kind of party in Ward’s honor tomorrow. It’s weird, he was supposed to be dead months ago and the island is just now doing something in memory of him. Probably Rose organized it or something, who knows. Anyways,” she stopped and took in a deep breath, “Rose wants us all to be there and speak about him in front of everyone. I went to ask Rafe what he planned on saying to hopefully find some inspiration but he just went on and on about how ‘the pogues killed him on purpose’ and how ‘they have another thing coming to them if they think they’re just going to get away with it’. I’ve seen him mad before, I’ve watched him punch holes through the walls, scream, yell, and cry. But this…” she trails off, inhaling deeply after her fast paced rant. 

You sigh, not knowing what to say, “Give me some time to get a bag packed and get on the road, and I’ll be there.”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t bother you with his dramatics if I didn’t think it was important.”

“Hey, don’t apologize, I’m glad you told me. I’ll be there soon, just keep working on what you want to say. I’ll help you brainstorm tomorrow while I’m driving if you need me to.”

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re seriously the best.”

“Keep your head up Wheeze, get some rest and maybe steer clear of your brother for a little bit.”

After hanging up, you sigh and stare up at your ceiling. Shit.

-

The drive back to the OBX gave you time to think, what would you actually be walking back into? Was his grief manifesting itself into the kind of anger and violence that could be fatal to anyone he saw at fault? You shuddered at the thought. Pulling in to your parent’s driveway, you sent a text to Wheezie telling her you just got in and you’ll meet her at the country club. You could name about a thousand and one places you would rather be than under the same roof as Rafe Cameron for the first time in over a year, but you wanted to pay your respects and be there to support the people that had turned into your bonus family during your 2 year relationship with Rafe. 

“You ready honey?” your mom asks as you slip on your shoes to match the black dress you had chose. 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

The car ride was quiet, your anxiety was palpable as you bit your nails down and bounced your leg uncontrollably. Walking in the familiar doors, all you saw was the looks on people’s faces as they realized you were back on the island and here no less. Pretty much everyone knew who you were, your family’s status not much different from the Cameron’s themselves. You were known as the sweet girl from the affluent family who smiled politely at everyone who looked in your direction and would never hurt a fly. Rafe’s reputation was quite the opposite. When you and Rafe had made your first entrance together at Midsummers at the age of 17, it was the talk of the island. Ignoring the stares and whispers, you held your head high and looked for Wheezie.

Standing next to a huge photo of Ward leant against an easel stood Rafe, watered down whiskey in hand as he blankly looked around at the people in the room. If one more person awkwardly gave him a tight lipped look of sympathy, he was going to lose it. He heard people murmuring and the looks in his direction seemed to increase. Shaking off the feeling like everyone knew something he didn’t, he downed his drink and made his way over to get another. Sofia caught him before he reached the bar and assumed her position under his arm. 

“Maybe slow down on the whiskey?” She meant well, but damn did he need another drink. Looking at her blankly, he kept moving towards the bartender. His father was dead, who gives a fuck how much alcohol his grieving son intakes. Kelce walks into the room from the hallway, looking around frantically, catching sight of Rafe as  he beelines toward him, out of breath. 

“Yo, Rafe, Y/N is here.” 

Rafe nearly chokes on his drink as he looks at Kelce with an unreadable expression, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Y/N, I just saw her walking in with my own two eyes bro.” 

He sets his glass back down and suddenly Sofia was right all along, he needs to slow down on the whiskey if you were really here. He thinks back to the last time he saw you, all the screaming and crying and pleading with you not to leave. Even with the past year's events, he puts losing you at the top of the list of the most painful things he’s ever been through. He understands why you left and couldn’t blame you, but damn did he miss you like you were the air he needed to breathe. You walked in, obviously looking for something or someone as he watched your eyes scan the room until they caught his. He immediately felt nauseous. I’m going to puke, you thought.

part two

[talenlee]

Game Pile: The Comprehensive Videogames History of Grammy-Award Winning 1999 Hit “Smooth” By Santana Feat. Rob Thomas of Matchbox Twenty

Watch this video on YouTube

Thumbnail and script below the fold!

You might have found this because you would Rather Be Listening to Grammy-Award Winning 1999 Hit “Smooth” By Santana Feat. Rob Thomas of Matchbox Twenty. This is because, inexplicably, the internet loves Rob Thomas, a walking meme of a man with whom I have a weirdly complicated relationship, not in any small part because for as long as I’ve been able to tell you what pop music is, he has been part of something in it that’s cool.

Not necessarily something that’s very cool.

But pretty cool.

At least, cooler than me, a guy who thinks Rob Thomas is cool.

Rob Thomas (of Matchbox 20) lives somewhere in the same space as All Star or Lazytown, a meme that is shallower than you think and yet better known and more well-liked than you’d expect. Meme fodder. That kind of memetic status is what led to the time, back in 2015, Nicholas Kula to design a T-shirt with the excessively specific and middlingly funny I’d Rather Be Listening to Grammy-Award Winning 1999 Hit “Smooth” By Santana Feat. Rob Thomas of Matchbox Twenty shirt slogan shirt. Kula put the shirt on Redbubble, it got a little bit of attention, and then it got copied and then it became a wildly successful meme raising upwards of hundreds of dollars, reblogged by Rob Thomas (of Matchbox Twenty), then shut down by the representatives of Rob Thomas (of Matchbox Twenty) for violating the copyright of amongst other people, Rob Thomas (of Matchbox Twenty). The design is back up, now, I suppose?

You might have seen this shirt, maybe on some streamer or the like, a really deliberately ironically un-funny funny thing that exists in that special place of meme magic that has no value but to remind you that hey.

Products exist.

It’s still a thing that put Rob Thomas, who hadn’t had a hit on the radio since, really, 1999 and also, what the hell is a radio, on the radar around that time, so that meant that after all this furore in 2016, it was a time ripe for the retrospect. Rolling Stone took the time to strike while the iron was gone, and three years later (around the song’s twentieth anniversary, I suppose), and it was thanks to a guy named Rob Wesley sharing an excerpt of the article that the conversation takes a turn for the gamer.

What Wesley shared in the thread is a section where the narration outlines the way that Rob Thomas was playing Silent Hill and how that was important to Santana’s relationship with him – that their friendship during the songwriting of the song Smooth was marked by long stretches of Rob Thomas playing Silent Hill games while Santana got stoned and told him what to do.

[Excerpts on screen]

This presents us with an interesting question: Was Carlos Santana playing a videogame?

Now there’s a way to discard this argument pretty conveniently; you can say ‘no,’ and that’s that. That’s fine, if you want to be boring about it, but that also shows an unwillingness to engage with the question, to work out what the question is asking and what kind of answers present ways to view the world.

What Carlos Santana was doing was passing instructions to another player, while probably chemically compromised, and that player – ostensibly enacted their will. How is Carlos not playing that game? If we assume that you need direct control over a game for it to count, then a lot of chess games in history were played by nobody. Fancy lads with fancy hats would send one another letters with chess moves in them, and then the recipient would put those moves in action on their chessboard and send a letter with their own moves in it, in response to the state they were both maintaining. Now in no case did either of these players have direct hand on the chess pieces on the other board, meaning that if directing a player to enact your intention doesn’t count, then these people were playing against literally nobody, and therefore, not playing chess, and therefore, probably didn’t exist.

This also runs into the problem of Dungeon Masters or Gamemasters or whatever – after all, in all those games, you have to give your game actions to another player, and then they enact your intentions. This capacity of confusing intention and outcome is a thing I refer to as enrolment, where you become enmeshed in the behaviour of the game. One of those things that games just do is that when you partake in playing in the game, you are committing actions whose outcome is uncertain; not impossible or unknowable, but just that when a game becomes inevitable, it loses something, and players tangibly react to the nature of a game being decided. You know what it means when you’re entering endgame. Players often can predict the outcome of the end of the game when it becomes inevitable and either fold or scrap for their last points.

That means there is some clear element of game playing that is the way that the control mechanism, while maybe feeling good, is not necessarily capable of delivering perfect outcomes. You don’t need your control scheme to be reliable for you to to be playing the game. After all, one-handed play or players for whom an interface is incompatible aren’t not playing a game just because the controller wasn’t designed for them, they’re just dealing with an interface problem.

Now to look at the alternate side of things, how about some people in a similar situation, trying to influence a game, badly, with a control mechanism that doesn’t reliably work, by talking to someone else? Ie, what about people watching a stream?

Stream audiences clearly try to have impact on the game they’re watch. In popular channels, it’s not uncommon for them to cheer, to try and remember or suggest strategies, to try and ask the streamer to take a more explicit or clear route through their thinking process. They will try and influence the conversation happening around the game, where they will invite the streamer to speak on a topic, and that has an impact on how the game is played. There is a stimulus, a response, an uncertain outcome, and a control scheme. They are engaged with the stream, and the streamer is affected by that engagement.

Okay, what about the chat where the player is wholly unaffected?

What about streams where the players are isolated? What about streams without chat, or without the audience necessarily speaking to the streamer? Are they going to have an impact on the game, as it is played? Are they playing the game through their presence? Is their observation an engagement with the game of the stream? Streamers will often explain that the presence of an audience transforms the experience of playing a game – that when you have to be aware of an audience, it changes one’s focuses and reactions. Even if that audience is elsewhere, even if that audience does not interact with the streamer through conventional interface, is the fact of being observed a thing that can be done as the engagement surface of a game?

Well, they’re doing something, right? If the audience, if the crowd, wasn’t a factor in a game, well, the most obvious example of spectators in a game, sports, wouldn’t have a meaningful idea of ‘home team’ advantage. We know that spectators in a sport influence the game that’s being played, after all — if nothing else, there are a lot of times in Baseball’s history in particular where a game was concluded, thanks to the actions of the spectators. Bless you battery hucking weirdoes. Now, hang on, you might argue that that’s not playing the game, and yeah, maybe it’s not. It’s concluding the game, with a different set of priorities. But the knowledge that fans can do that kind of thing, concerns that the reactions of the fans could curtail the game certainly play into the game’s players’ functions. They are an influence on the playing of the game, so we can definitely not say that they are separate from it.

But let’s say that that’s a material concern; that the game is agnostic of the spectator behaviour, and that the game is only defined by the rules that they experience. This is a great big discussion, something you can delve into at length through The Philosophy Of Sport, but that mighty tome is built on the work of Bernard Suits, the author of that book Grasshopper, Life Games And Utopia. From this book I draw my definition of games, where he defines games as the voluntary overcoming of unnecessary obstacles. Under that definition, there are definitely some things to squint at. It’s a very broad definition, after all, and you may feel it includes some things that don’t count. It means that you can’t be coerced into playing a game, and that can ask questions about whether people who are playing a game as a job are still playing a game, if their continued livelihood is contingent on it. It is a definition you use for what it lets you do.

What it lets me do, is talk about games in a way that includes lots of different types of game.

Something that book describes is that just because people are all playing a game together that doesn’t mean they’re playing the same game. Suits describes the way that a player might be cheating, which immediately means they’re playing a different game, since you can’t both play a game and violate its rules. There’s also players playing for reasons to impede the game, the spoilsports, who are following the rules but playing in a way that reduces the play or the fun of the other players. Similarly, what if I’m playing a game with a little kid, and I know the game much better than they do, but I’m deliberately trying to impose rules on my self to ensure that kid isn’t blown out? We might both be playing Rhino Hero but I’ve set myself an extra, additional limitation – I’m trying to beat the game, I’m trying to win, but I’m trying to do so in a way that keeps the game close, while also making sure this other player doesn’t feel like they’re being humoured, and trying to make it fun for myself. This may involve imposing new, other rules on myself. I’m playing the game, but I’m also playing another, nested game on top of it.

If you accept it of game experiences as maximally inclusive, you have a tool for when you can sit at these odd intersections and ask the question: Are the audience playing a game? And if you’re trying to be maximally inclusive, and you want to include the idea that engaging with the game, trying things, hoping, cheering, hypothesising strategies and seeing how your strategies relate to the enacted ones, then you are playing a game, it’s just a game with an entire other game as one of its components. A lottery is a game, and that’s a game where you’re trying to correctly guess a number with exactly one attempt, and the result of that is a stunningly engaging game if the incentives are lined up right.

What about an audience who are completely disconnected? What if we took the audience completely out of the sport, let’s put them in a remote location, where they can’t say or do anything to the players, like the esports community of South Korea’s Starcraft channels. For lower-tier matches, outside of code A (at least ten years ago when I was paying a lot more attention), players weren’t getting a live audience, but their games were being broadcast to satisfy a bottomless demand… and we know in that case, that nerves, choking, all are factors that the audience’s existence can impose on the players.

Okay, so what if we remove the ability of the audience to influence the players. What if the players are somehow, emotionally, unaffectable by the attention of an audience? What if they were cold, efficient, and entirely automated in their play experience in a way that could be equalised and fair? And in order to make sure they’re not too complex, let’s make these game players as simple as possible such that they can’t fail or break or be otherwise impacted, meaning the game can operate in the purest possible way, without any psychological influence of the audience.

Are those spectators playing a game, with these ideas of enrolment and maximally inclusive game definition?

Yes.

In that simplest possible definition, there is a goal, and the spectator is trying to achieve the goal, with a consensually-chosen unnecessary obstacle: Specifically, the goal is to get their chosen simplified actor into a victory position, with a control mechanism that is completely deprived of all functional agency. The spectator wants a player to win, they want to succeed, but the only means they have to influence the game are by cheering and by wanting. They negotiate, they pray, they plan, they strategise, they try to find a way to see their chosen player win, or get better results, or wind up where they want them to be, all through no means at all, through the least effective means possible. They are in many cases, trying to construct visions of the future for what can happen if it does happen, to get the outcome they want, which is itself, a prediction game that can be satisfied or not.

I forward then that the audience are playing a game when they map out expectations, when they cheer, when they connect with one another. They are playing a game just as Carlos Santana was playing a game when he, stoned as hell, gave instructions to Rob Thomas; he wasn’t necessarily playing the same game as Rob Thomas.

…

The story about Rob Thomas and Santana is completely false, by the way. When I first wrote about this was when I learned, because it took me four years to get around to checking the source material.

I mean…

It doesn’t matter if it’s false.

But it is a pretty funny example.

And chances are, you might have thought that Carlos Santana was a Silent Hill fan for some reason.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part

pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 8.1k words

warnings: explicit language, angst, fluff, smut (18+)

summary: it’s ten months of texts, phone calls, voicemails, anything to make it feel like everything isn’t too different. and for the most part, it works. until you and steve finally see each other again

EPILOGUE | ❝𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆❞

You: How’s New York so far?

Steve: Good aside from Tom trying to force me to do more press stuff than what we initially agreed on and I’ve only been here three days

You: I kinda miss that british man

Steve: That truly offends me</3

You: I’m sorry<3

You: Okay very very important question

You: Empire State of Mind or Welcome to New York?

Steve: ???? 

You: You’re in New York for the next month so one of them has to be your signature song (and yes this is coming from the person that has only been to New York a handful of times. shut up don’t mention it) 

Steve: Can I say no to both of them?

You: No.

Steve: Okay then 

Steve: The Taylor Swift one

You: Solid answer

You: Now I will start your morning right every day you’re there by sending you lyrics from that song :) 

Steve: Oh god

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve: What was the name of that show we watched for almost five hours at your place that one night?

You: It sincerely hurts me that you forgot the name of Brooklyn Nine-Nine….

Steve: Yes, that’s it! I was thinking about this one episode we watched of it but I couldn’t remember the name

You: Are you about to watch it without me? (if the answer is yes that hurts me even more)

Steve: Yes I was… But now no way I would never watch it without you

You: A true friend. Thank you 

Steve: Oh wait I’m just now realizing how late it is where you are. How are you even talking to me right now? 

You: Yeah, it’s 2am but I can’t sleep. First day of real filming tomorrow. First day being AD. And yes all the pre-production stuff me and Jessie have been doing since we got to Spain two weeks ago has been perfectly leading to this moment, but now it just feels so fucking real and even though I know I’m not gonna mess up or anything I’m still nervous

Steve: You’re gonna do great and actually I think it’s impossible for you not to be really good at what you do  

You: Thank you

Steve: I would suggest that I call you and we watch an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine to take your mind off things but you should sleep 

You: No actually can we do that? I’m wide awake right now and I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon 

You: Also fun fact: I’m actually able to function better when I’m running on barely three hours of sleep 

Steve: That’s a huge lie but okay

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“… Please leave a message after the beep.”

You listened to the all-too familiar sound of the “beep” and then began speaking. “Okay, I know it’s like three in the morning in LA right now, so it completely makes sense why you didn’t answer. But, anyway, I just landed in London last night and now it’s morning and I’m at the coffee shop that you told me I should go to while I’m here.” 

“It’s really, really great, and I hate how right you are about the tea being amazing, and it actually makes me change my mind about how much I dislike tea. Oh, also, I got my first ever British scone from here and it’s so good too. I think I’ll probably be spending every day at this place while I’m here for the next month.”

“And I know you raved a lot about the breakfast sandwiches here too, so I will try that tomorrow. I think you said that the bacon one was your favorite, but please confirm that because I can’t fully remember… Oh, wait, nevermind, it’s definitely the bacon because I do remember you saying that you miss it a lot.”

“I could bring you one back if you want? No, wait, actually, that wouldn’t make sense because even when I leave London, I’m still gonna be in Europe for three more months… Wait, I see that they sell coffee mugs here, though, so I could definitely bring you back that if you wanted me to? They have some cool options.” 

“Alright, I think I’m just rambling at this point so let me shut up.” You let out a small laugh. “Okay, bye.” 

Call Ended

-

You: *image attached* 

You: Enjoy that picture of me being the most touristy tourist in the world :) 

Steve: I can’t believe you’re doing the leaning tower of pisa pose thing

You: I had to. I couldn’t come here and not do it. It feels like tradition. A rite of passage, if you will

Steve: You’re such a dork 

You: Joke’s on you because I fully take that as a compliment, so thank you 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The feeling of your phone vibrating in the back pocket of the jeans you were wearing surprised you because you thought you had turned it off for the day. And then seeing Steve’s name take over your phone screen further surprised you, but you didn’t hesitate to answer the call.  

“Hi,” You said. You were on a break for the first time that day, so the timing of his call was actually kind of perfect. “This is a pretty nice surprise.”

“Hey, how’s it going?” It felt really good actually hearing his voice for the first time in what felt like forever.  

“Pretty good. I never thought I’d actually find myself truly missing LA, but now I kinda can’t wait to be back there in three weeks,” You answered, saying what had been on your mind for a while at this point. “How’s Vancouver?” 

“Nice so far. It’s actually been snowing a lot, but I like it.” 

“I hope you've been doing all of the snow and Winter activities; making snow angels, sledding down hills. Y’know, all the stuff they do in children’s Christmas movies.” 

You almost immediately heard Steve laugh at your words. “The apartment I’m staying at here has a balcony, and last night after it stopped snowing I made a really small snowman.” 

You smiled. “I love that. Please send me a picture of it.” 

“Okay.”

Things became quiet for a moment, and it was a silence that easily felt comfortable and you didn’t mind it at all. Simply knowing that Steve was on the other end of the call felt like enough. 

“This is a random thought, but we never usually talk on the phone. Mainly because our time zones are insanely different, so the timing is never right, and we’re either leaving each other voicemails or just texting, which is fine. But it’s really nice hearing your voice. It’s just… really comforting.” You let out a soft breath. “Where I am right now and where I’ve been the past five-ish months have become my makeshift “homes,” but talking to you actually feels like home, in a way… And I know exactly how disgustingly cheesy that sounds. Don’t say anything about it, or I will end this call.”

Steve laughed a bit. “No, I agree with you. We’ve talked about feeling lonely before, but even though we haven’t seen each other in what feels like a really long time, whenever we text and especially when we talk on the phone, it’s hard to feel lonely. It’s like all of these miles between us don’t really matter, which is nice. You’re my “home” too.”

You were quiet for a second, fully taking in his words and smiling at how happy they made you feel. It was the kind of happiness where you also kind of felt like crying. 

You loved what you had been doing currently with your job and you wouldn’t have changed any of it, but you also really wished that you could see Steve right then; you would’ve killed for a hug.  

“Okay, I think I should go before I start crying,” You said, only slightly joking with your words. “Also, I only have ten more minutes of my break, and I haven’t eaten since this morning.” 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “No, don’t be sorry. Like I said, I really like when we can actually talk to each other. I like hearing your voice.” 

“I like hearing yours too,” He told you and somehow it was easy to hear the smile in his tone. “Okay, I’m gonna hang up now. Go eat something.”

“Aye, aye captain,” You said with a small laugh. “Talk to you soon.”  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You: I just watched the final cut of Fear of Lonesome with Jessie… Enjoy this picture of me currently bawling my eyes out at the ending

You: *image attached*

Steve: Sorry for making you cry?

You: It was worth it, honestly

Steve: You’re coming to the cast and crew screening next week right?

You: Of course. I will happily cry at this movie again :)

You: It’s kinda really fucked up how good of an actor you are 

Steve: Thank you? At least I think that’s a compliment

You: It is<3

You: Anyway I’ll see you next week then

You: The first time in a really really long time. Holy shit 

Steve: That feels a little weird to think about. But a good kind of weird

You: Yeah definitely the good kind 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a moment that was ten months in the making. 

Ten months of texts, voicemails, and sporadic phone calls. Ten months of being so far apart from one another, but doing so much to make it feel like you weren’t. 

It was all leading here— seeing Steve in person at the small theater in West Hollywood that had been rented out for the night’s occasion. And when you saw him, talking to random members of the cast and crew, it didn’t exactly feel real, which made you not say anything. 

Until he saw you and your eyes met and small smiles were quickly shared. You gave him a small nod before you got pulled into a conversation with someone.

He looked a little different, hair grown out a bit more and there was something minorly different about his stance, but overall he was still your Steve. Well, not technically yours, but close enough. You then wondered if he thought you looked any different. You personally felt a bit different, in a good way; like you’d become better over the past ten months, and in some ways, more of yourself. 

It was almost amusing how, most of the time, the time seemed to move slowly over the past ten months, but now it was suddenly moving so much faster. 

Everyone left the lobby area and started making their way inside the room that the screening would be happening in since it was scheduled to start in five minutes, but you and Steve lingered back, walking toward each other until there were only a few beats of space between you two. 

You smiled at him again. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He stepped forward to close the rest of the distance between you and pull you in for a hug, but you stepped back. 

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m allowed to hug you. Y’know given that you’re an engaged man and all.” You tried to be completely serious with your words but it was hard not to laugh at least a little bit.

According to many celebrity news outlets, Steve and his female costar of the limited series he’d been filming in Vancouver for the past five months were dating. It was a rumor that started about two months into filming, and there had been no confirmations about the said relationship but there were also no hard denials, so the speculations continued. And then there were even a handful of news outlets that went quite insane with their headlines and said that the two were secretly engaged. You both had laughed about it then when you sent that article to him, because the rumors were hilariously ridiculous, and you couldn’t not joke about it now. 

“Ha ha,” He said, voice deadpan. “I didn’t even get to tell you, but Tom suggested that me and Lily actually start fake dating because, in addition to all of this giving so much more press to the show, it could also help me. If I’m dating someone it will fully “kill off the asshole image.” I immediately vetoed that idea, though.”

Although the asshole narrative that surrounded Steve still existed— not as prominent as it once was but it still lingered whenever his name was brought up by the media— it was hard to see him like that anymore.  

You let out a laugh. “Of course Tom would suggest that.” 

“Yeah, he’s…” Steve trailed off with a quick shake of his head. “Anyway, c’mere.”

You walked into his open arms that time, pushing up on your toes to circle your arms around his neck as his wrapped around your waist. Your eyes fell shut as he held you tight and it was then that the time felt like it started to move slow again. 

“I have something for you,” You told him after a moment, words getting somewhat lost in his neck but he was still able to hear you. “A little gift. It’s in my car, I’ll give it to you after.” 

“I also have something for you,” Steve whispered, and you opened your eyes at that.

You pulled back from the hug, still smiling at him. “Great minds, hm?”

He nodded and matched your smile with one of his own. Seeing him right then still didn’t entirely feel real just yet, so you went quiet once again and the two of you simply looked at each other. 

During the past ten months you and him had talked pretty much all of the time, but there was something different about this moment. Feelings that you thought you had successfully pushed far away rushed right back to the surface. 

“We should head inside,” He said, breaking the silence and pulling you out of your thoughts, which you were grateful for because you really didn’t want to think right then, especially not about that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were the one that suggested Steve come back to your place and the small gift exchange happen there. 

The screening felt as if it ended too soon and the inevitability of the night itself ending started to hang in the air. However, you couldn’t allow that to happen; you wanted this night to last as long as it could. 

Steve agreed with your suggestion and thirty minutes after various goodbyes were said, the two of you were sitting on your couch as a frozen pizza that you’d just bought yesterday cooked in the oven because both of you were hungry. 

You were already wearing the navy blue oversized crewneck he got you that had “Vancouver” embroidered in white across the front of it. It was comfortable and perfect, and a simple gift but also the best thing you’d received in a while. 

“I hope you like this,” You said as you handed him the gift you’d gotten for him; a cream colored mug with the logo of a coffee shop in brown lettering on the side. “I know you said that you were okay with not getting a mug from that coffee shop in London, but I just really wanted to get you this one.”

Steve looked at the mug for a second and then at you, a smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” You said and your fingers started mindlessly playing with the hem of your crewneck as you continued speaking. “I’ve missed you a lot this past year. I know we talked so often and everything, but being right here, in person, feels really nice.”

“I’ve missed you too,” He said softly before he placed the mug on the coffee table barely a few feet away and then met your eyes again. “There were so many times where I wanted to just drop everything and go see you. Rearrange plans or cancel some stupid press stuff and meet up with you. Even if it would only be for barely a day or whatever. I just always wanted to see you.” 

You wanted to tell him how much you related to his words. You wanted to say how there were a countless amount of times where you had yearned to do the exact same thing. However, you couldn’t find the words to tell Steve any of that, so instead you only looked at him for a bit.

It was almost funny how many times you had become at a loss of words so far that night simply because of him. But it was as if the fact that you were suppressing so much made you unable to say pretty much anything. Because you were scared of where exactly your mind would go if you didn’t immediately shut down some of your thoughts that involved you and Steve, especially now that he was right here instead of thousands of miles away and no longer solely limited to the confines of your phone.  

He was your friend. Best friend. And it had been so much easier to pretend that that was where you and him solely began and ended when you both were so far away from each other— when he wasn’t right in front of you and you weren’t so easily reminded of how close you two used to be in such a different way. 

Those same revived feelings from earlier that night came right back again, and they practically increased tenfold because you found yourself wanting to kiss him so fucking badly. And, of course, there was a part of your mind that immediately told you just how bad of an idea that would be. However, at that moment, you became okay with all logical thinking being pushed out of the window. 

In your mind it felt like you were moving in slow motion, scooting closer to him on the couch and sliding into his lap so that your legs were on either side of him, but in reality it was happening so much quicker. However, you stopped there before you did anything else.

You could see some confusion in his eyes and also something else that you couldn’t fully decipher, maybe he was contemplating things as much as you had been before you decided to take this sort of plunge.  

That look was almost enough to wake you up and remind you of what had been agreed upon all those months ago, but it wasn’t enough to make you pull away from Steve. However, instead of sliding off of his lap or moving things further, you gave the metaphorical ball to him. 

You let silence hang in the air as the two of you simply looked at each other and you gave him the opportunity to push you away. To tell you that there wasn’t any part of him that wanted this to happen. That he was so far past feeling anything like that toward you anymore. That he never even thought about it.

You would’ve been okay with any of those things happening because even though it would’ve hurt, it would actually make things a thousand times easier. 

But, he didn’t do or say any of that. Instead, he closed the last bit of space between you two and slotted his lips against yours. 

It was an immovable and obvious fact that you had missed him so much over the past ten months, but you now realized that you had missed this just as much. A soft kiss that almost immediately turned into something more with one of Steve’s hands coming up to cup your cheek and the other finding your hip to keep you steady. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth when his tongue ran across your bottom lip making the kiss deeper, and your hands fisted themselves into his t-shirt to bring yourself impossibly closer to him. 

For the time being, you effectively turned your mind off. You deliberately chose not to think about what this exactly meant or what it would come to mean. All you focused on in that moment was how fucking good doing this with Steve felt. 

Your hands found the hem of your crewneck because you suddenly felt way too hot and you pulled away from Steve for a second so that you could slip it over your head, leaving you in just your black tank top and shorts.  

You became so lost in the pure happiness of everything that was happening right then that you couldn’t hear anything except your heart pounding in your ears and the soft sounds Steve was managing to elicit from you due to the way he was squeezing your hips.  

“The oven,” He mumbled against your lips, which slowly snapped you out of the haze you were in. “The oven is beeping.” 

It was then that you heard the incessant noise; almost too loud and clear. 

You abruptly pulled away from Steve and maneuvered off of his lap. “Oh, shit.”  

He followed you into the kitchen as you opened up the oven and used a mitt to grab the circular pan the pizza was on and place it atop the stove. 

“That was, um…” You trailed off not knowing exactly where you wanted to go with your words. 

Steve shook his head. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“I don’t regret what just happened,” You blurted out. They were the words that pretty much mimicked what was said after the first time you two ever had sex. But, instead of those words first coming from Steve they were coming from you. “And I don’t really know what that means, and I kinda don’t wanna think about what it means right now. I kinda just don’t wanna think at all right now. Sometimes I feel like I think way too much when it comes to us.”

He was quiet for a second before he nodded at you. “Okay.”

His hands found your hips and you were softly pressed against the side of the kitchen counter. You two shared a look that felt as if it was saying a million things, none of which you particularly wanted to decipher right then. 

Before things could stay silent for too long, before you accidentally let your mind fall down a spiraling rabbit hole, you nodded a bit and mimicked Steve’s previous word. “Okay.”   

His hands came up to cup your face before he leaned in to kiss you again. You didn’t waste a second to push yourself onto the counter and Steve’s lips found your neck, roughly kissing and nipping at the skin. Your hands started playing with the hem of his t-shirt before circling in the loops of his jeans and pulling him flush against you. When you felt his hardness press against your inner thigh, you took in a sharp breath and let out a soft moan. You were completely certain that you would’ve let him pull off your shorts and underwear and do whatever he wanted to do to you against your kitchen counter if you weren’t reminded of something else. 

“The pizza?” You mumbled, a bit unable to form the question coherently because all you could really focus on was the feeling of Steve’s mouth against you. 

He pulled away from your neck and met your eyes. “We can eat it after.”

He didn’t have to specify further for you to know exactly what he meant. You smiled and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. “Yeah, after sounds perfect.” 

It became a blur of movements after those words fell from your lips. His hands found the backs of your thighs and he picked you up— the abruptness of the action made you simultaneously yelp and laugh as your arms came up to circle around his neck. You were carried to your bedroom and softly placed down against the unmade bed. Clothes were quickly shed until there was nothing between you and him. 

No words were said in these rushed moments where hands and mouths roamed almost everywhere on each other's bodies; the brief looks shared and breathy noises coming from both of you were enough. 

It was as if one mind was being shared or a song that only you two knew the words to was playing and both of you were singing along. Your hands were in his hair, softly pulling because the groans he’d let out were probably the hottest thing you’d ever heard. And his middle finger softly teased your clit as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear because he knew just how much that would make you lose it. 

It had been almost a year but neither of you forgot these little things about one another and it almost felt like second nature to be with each other in this way. There wasn’t a hint of nervousness or awkwardness, and maybe that was saying a lot more than you wanted to admit. 

You were positive that if you fully thought about what was happening right then, your mind wouldn’t hesitate to yell at you that this was a bad idea; that it would only make things complicated, and start you both back at square one. 

However, it would also tell you that the times in your life where you felt your happiest and most comfortable mainly consisted of moments with Steve, and that was something that felt as if it would never change. 

Therefore, when he slipped inside you with a low groan that you caught with your mouth and proceeded to make you come faster than you had in such a long time, it was hard to feel anything but completely happy. 

Your legs wrapped around him, coaxing him deeper inside of you and soft “pleases” fell from your lips begging him to come. And after a particularly hard thrust, he let out a loud “Fuck” and came inside of you, and you couldn’t do anything but moan at the feeling of his cum painting your walls. 

The weight of him crushed you in the most comforting way possible, and you tilted your head upward a bit to meet his lips in a soft and lazy kiss. The two of you stayed just like that for a while, coming down from your highs and letting your racing hearts return to normal. Your head fell back against your pillow, eyes closing, but you didn’t feel tired. 

“When those articles about you and Lily dating started coming out, I knew exactly how ridiculous the rumors were because I feel like we have the kind of… friendship where you’d tell me if you were dating someone… But, there was still a small part of me that believed it for a second, and it was actually so hard to not feel a little sad about it.” Your words came out quiet, and you actually had no idea why you had just said all of that— perhaps that confession did not make for the best post-sex pillow talk conversation. But, for some reason, you wanted to say it. 

It was a thought that had weighed on you all those months ago, and you knew that you couldn’t tell that to him then because of what it implied. And you weren’t entirely sure why and what made this moment different from then. 

Steve was quiet for a bit and his face was buried in your neck as he softly spoke. “I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“It’s okay,” You whispered back. “You don’t have to say anything. It was dumb of me to feel that way about it.” 

He rolled off of you and the feel of his warmth against you was something that you missed almost immediately. For a second you thought that maybe you ruined this moment, whatever it was, but then he said something.  

“What are you doing this weekend?” He asked, and you were grateful for the randomness of the subject change. 

You let out a breath that you didn't know you’d been holding and turned on your side to face him. “For once, absolutely nothing. It’ll probably be the last time I actually have nothing to do before the documentary I’m helping out on starts filming in a month, and I have to do some pre-production stuff for it soon.”

Work was honestly the only thing in your life that felt completely certain, so it always felt easy to talk about.

“You should come to New York. I’m going tomorrow, and I'll be there until the premiere here for the movie next week. I have to do some press stuff and have a few meetings. A bunch of boring stuff, but you should come for the weekend,” Steve said, one hand finding your bare hip and softly rubbing the skin. “To make the boring stuff a lot less boring.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at that, and you nodded at him, quickly deciding not to think too heavily about your answer. “Okay.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a little surprising that it wasn’t surprising how easy things fell back into that old place with you and Steve. Back to what sort of resembled the “arrangement” that had started during filming a year ago where you two pretty much acted like you were in a relationship, but neither of you would say the words or wholeheartedly acknowledge that fact. 

There was a lot that you two would eventually have to talk about, but you decided that that would be a bridge that you’d cross once you were hours away from getting on your flight back to California. And it was a flight that kept changing because you didn’t want to leave New York just yet; you didn’t want to leave Steve yet. 

So, your weekend trip extended days upon days until Wednesday came and it was agreed upon that you’d just go back to Los Angeles Friday morning when Steve was heading back there as well because that was the same day as the movie premiere.

You had a little work to do during those first few weekdays you were there, but you found it easy to respond to emails and make the phone calls you needed to from the comfort of Steve’s apartment, which was smaller than his place in LA but of course still massive and had a great view of Central Park. The dining room area became your makeshift “work from home” spot with your laptop at the table at pretty much all times. And while you did that, Steve was off doing press stuff for the movie, or he was in meetings; the things aside from filming that came along with being a famous actor. 

And then when the day would change into the evening and then night, you two were together, doing everything that you both had desperately missed doing. You two still knew each other’s bodies so well, and it was as if that fact was only further and further proven every night. 

It was hard not to be close to each other when for so long, you hadn’t been able to be, and because of that, things became a little different this time around in comparison to what the “arrangement” had been. There were little touches and affections— holding hands while sitting as close as you possibly could on the couch or Steve kissing you goodbye before he’d leave the apartment— that hadn’t happened before because of the lines that had been metaphorically drawn, but they felt pretty blurred now. 

A sort of routine quickly and almost effortlessly formed and it gave you that glimpse into what you and him could be if the circumstances were slightly different. And it was hard not to admit that you completely adored what this “what if” looked like. 

“We need snacks.” Your words were random and abrupt and Steve only looked at you amusingly. 

It was Wednesday night, days before things would inevitably change, and you weren’t completely sure what they’d change into— if they’d go back to the normal you had created with Steve where the two of you were friends and nothing more, or if things changed into something else entirely. You still completely avoided thinking about it all, and it was pretty damn nice living in this fantasy world. 

The two of you were on the couch in his living room. Your legs were draped over his lap and a blanket covered you both.

One of Steve’s hands was absentmindedly rubbing your leg beneath the blanket as he spoke. “There’s some stuff in the pantry.” 

“If we’re about to spend the entire night watching The Hunger Games movies we need more than just the chips to keep us alive.” 

His eyebrows furrowed at your words. “Am I underestimating how long these movies are?”

“You definitely are,” You said with a small laugh and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. You then pulled off the blanket that had been draped over the both of you and stood up from the couch. “I’ll go to the convenience store down the street.” 

Steve got up as well. “I’ll come too.” 

You quickly shook your head. “No way. It’s kinda insane how the paparazzi seem way more ruthless here. I think they’re always camping outside the building.” 

Over the past few days, you had come to the conclusion that it was lucky that Steve lived in an apartment building because whenever you would leave and come back, no one could ever know that you were there for him. And you knew just how big of a field day they would have if they did know, especially because of the dating rumors that were still circling about him and Lily.

“Yeah, way too many famous people live here,” Steve said as he followed you into his bedroom.

Your small suitcase, that had only been meant for a weekend trip and was packed as such, was a haphazard mess in the corner. You slipped off the shorts you were wearing and pulled on a black pair of leggings.  

“And yet, I’ve still not run into Paul Rudd on the elevator since I’ve been here,” You jokingly said and expected Steve to laugh, but instead he bypassed your statement.  

“Wait, it’s raining. You sure you’re gonna be okay out there?” 

You smiled at his slightly concerned face. “Okay, I know I’ve been living in LA for a long time now, but don’t worry I have in fact experienced rain before.” 

Steve shook his head at you but still couldn’t help but laugh a little at your words. “Hold on.” 

He almost immediately walked away, heading into his closet, before you could ask him what he was doing, and then returned moments later with a hoodie and umbrella. 

“I was already planning to steal a hoodie, but thanks for the umbrella,” You told him with a smile as you put on the plain black hoodie. “What kind of candy do you want me to get?”

“Skittles.” 

“Solid answer,” You responded with a nod. 

The two of you headed toward the front door and you put on your shoes that were next to it. Once you were done, Steve handed you the umbrella. He then pulled the hood of the hoodie over your head and then leaned in to press a kiss on your nose. “Don’t meet Paul Rudd on the elevator.”

You laughed a bit. “I’m sorry, but I really, really hope I do.” 

You didn’t meet Paul Rudd on the elevator, and you told Steve that with an over dramatic sad sigh when you came back from the store twenty minutes later, a bag full of junk food in hand, before you both settled back on the couch.

The two of you were only able to fully watch the first two Hunger Games movies before falling asleep an hour into the third one, around two in the morning. You half-woke up when the credits were rolling and then lightly poked Steve awake so that you two could go to his actual bed for the rest of the night.

“This is how it would be, y’know,” Steve said in the morning, words slightly getting lost in your hair.

The two of you were cuddled in his bed, your back pressed against his front and one of his arms draped over your waist. You had just finished having a half-awake discussion about what to do for breakfast before he said that he had to leave soon for the final day of press interviews for the movie, but he told you about a bagel place nearby that you’d probably like. And then the conversation shifted to a pinky promise agreement that you and him would finish the final two Hunger Games movies that night. 

Things became quiet after that, with both of you savoring the last few minutes you could spend in bed, and you found his hand, intertwining it with yours and pulling it up to kiss the back of it. 

You almost shifted around to face Steve after he abruptly said his previous words, but you felt too comfortable in your current position to do so. “How what would be?”

“You and me if we decided to be something real.”

 “Steve,” You said softly and then decided to shift around so that you were looking at him. His hair was a little disheveled and he looked pretty tired, but he also looked so cute. If he hadn’t just abruptly pushed open the door to the conversation that you knew needed to happen, you were certain that you would’ve kissed him right then. 

“I’m just saying...” He said as his shoulders upturned in a small shrug. “Also, I’m slightly kidding. This week has been really good, and I’m glad we got to have it, but I know things will go back to… normal soon. And that’s okay.” 

Hearing him say that— confirming that things would just go back to how they were, a friendship where you both seemed to just lie about what you really wanted and how you felt— made you get hit with the sudden realization that you hated the thought of going back to that.

However, for some reason, you couldn’t find the words to tell him that right then, so instead you nodded at what he had just said and plastered on a fake smile. You made your voice sound as light as possible. “Yeah.” 

He left the apartment forty-minutes later and you left it twenty minutes after that, deciding to go to the bagel place he suggested because you were hungry and also because you didn’t want to be alone in his apartment with only your confusing and contradicting thoughts to keep you company. 

However, somehow as you walked aimlessly around Central Park— your bag with your plain cream cheese bagel in one hand and iced coffee in the other— that was when it felt like the dam broke, and your mind started spiraling because it finally felt impossible to keep avoiding and pushing your thoughts away. You were finally facing the bridge that you had told yourself you’d eventually have to cross, and in your head, you could see that the end of it was leading in two completely different directions. And you knew the exact direction you wanted to go in. 

Your friendship with Steve was supposed to be more than enough. That was what you had told yourself that night at the wrap party to convince yourself that you were completely okay with only having a friendship with him. 

But now, after these past five days of getting that glimpse into what something more could look like, you knew that just being friends really wasn’t enough, and it never would be. And although a part of you still felt a little scared to risk it all, there was an even bigger part of you that didn’t want to give this up anymore. 

You couldn’t give up how completely and irrevocably happy Steve made you in more ways than just friendship. It was a mixture of the butterflies you’d get in your stomach whenever he would pull you close to him to press a soft kiss against your forehead or cheek and the wide smile you’d get on your face when he’d come back to the apartment after being gone for hours. It was also how he would look at you so adoringly when you would ramble about work stuff and how he could easily manage to convince you to stay in bed for “five more minutes;” five minutes that would always turn into at least ten but you never cared. 

Steve Harrington made you the happiest you’d ever been and you suddenly became tired of continuously avoiding that fact.  

It was a series of quick but definitely long overdue actions that happened next. 

You found yourself sitting on a park bench with the thought of eating your bagel or drinking more of your coffee long forgotten for the time being, and instead they simply sat next to you, because there was something else you needed to do at that moment. You pulled out your phone and went to Steve’s contact, pressing the call button before you could think twice about it. 

It went straight to voicemail, just like you knew it would because he always kept it off during interviews, so you waited for the way too familiar “beep” sound and then started speaking. 

“Hi,” Your voice came out softer than you expected it to, so you cleared your throat. “I knew that you weren’t gonna answer, and I’m kinda glad that you didn’t because I just want to get all of this out all at once. So, stay tuned for a very long-winded ramble from me.” You let out a small laugh. “Um, anyway, these past five days that I’ve been here in New York with you have been so good, like insanely good, and I’ve been avoiding thinking about what would happen after this and what would exactly change between us. And I was completely okay with not thinking about any of that because it made it easier to just live in the moment and be happy with what we’ve been doing. But then this morning, you said that it’s okay that things will go back to normal soon and that finally made me think about everything, and I realized that I don’t want us to go back to “normal.” I actually kind of hate the thought of doing so.” 

You stopped for a moment, gaze becoming fixated on a group of friends that had blankets spread out in the grass and were having a picnic not that far away from you, and then you looked at a couple that was walking down one of the paths holding hands. 

After taking a quick breath, you kept going. “You’re so important to me, and our friendship is so important to me too… But I love you. I’m in love with you. And because of that, I can’t just be your friend. I want more, I want us to be something real; and that’s pretty much exactly what you said that night at my apartment almost a year ago. I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long to realize just how fucking great we are together.”  

Your hand that wasn’t holding your phone to your ear began absentmindedly playing with the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing; it was the Vancouver crewneck he got for you.

“I want us to have days like this past week forever. And I know that this week has kind of been a fluke because, for the first time in a really long time, our schedules worked out pretty well. But we can make this work. I know we can. I was an idiot to say that we don’t make sense before because we do. Yes, our lives pull us in pretty different directions most of the time, and it sucks, but it's okay because it doesn’t change how I feel about you, and it never will. And I think that's the most important thing. It's why I know we, us, can actually work.”  

You leaned back against the wooden bench and let out a breath. “Okay, wow, I’m so surprised that I haven’t been cut off yet… I’m currently sitting on a park bench in Central Park, and I got a bagel and coffee from the place you mentioned. I haven’t tried the bagel yet, but the coffee’s pretty good…” You trailed off with a shake of your head and then laughed a bit. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that right now. Um, anyway, I’m gonna stop talking now, and I’ll see you back at the apartment later. Bye.” 

When you ended the call and pocketed your phone away, you felt an immediate weight lift off of your shoulders and you let out a contented sigh that turned into a small laugh. 

You waited for a second, though, waited for something that resembled dread or regret to suddenly hit you, but it never did. And that was what let you know that what you’d just done was fully the right thing to do. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hours later, you still felt nothing but complete contentment with what you had done, leaving the minute and a half long voicemail that would, in fact, change everything. You wanted it to change everything. 

After responding to a handful of work emails and then enduring an hour-long phone call with one of the Producer’s of the soon-to-be filming documentary, you were in the kitchen searching for some sort of a snack to eat. However, hearing the sound of the front door opening halted your rummaging. 

“Hi,” You said, watching Steve enter the apartment and then close and lock the door behind him. 

He met your eyes almost immediately. “I really loved that voicemail.”

You smiled at him, at how quickly he wanted to address the elephant in the room before it really even had a chance to enter. “Yeah?”

He didn’t hesitate to nod his head and he smiled back at you. “Yeah. I’m never deleting it.”

He looked so happy as he walked over to you where you were leaning against the kitchen island, and that look made your heart constrict in your chest. 

“I love you,” It didn’t feel the tiniest bit scary to say the words right to him, they just felt so honest and undeniable. Your voice was soft and your arms came up to wrap around his neck, hands immediately finding home in the hair at the nape. 

“Mm,” His eyes slipped shut as his arms circled around you, pulling you against him.  “Say it again.” 

Your mouth was right against his ear as you spoke. “I love you.” 

He hummed again and then pulled back a bit, his nose brushed against yours and his lips did the same. It was all so teasing, like he wanted to take his absolute time with kissing you. However, now it didn’t have to be slow or drawn out because none of this was going to abruptly end; there was no expiration date apart of this like the arrangement you had a year ago. 

“I love you too,” He said before finally slotting his lips against yours.  

There was so much expressed in the soft kiss. It completely felt like the beginning of something new, something better, rather than simply a continuation of what you two had. The kiss was so certain and sure and it only further confirmed to you that everything happening was right and good and perfect. This was what you had wanted from the moment the two of you made that pinky promise during the wrap party; the one where you both said that you wouldn’t let your friendship end. Technically, it wasn’t being broken. 

You pulled away when you started feeling lightheaded and you met Steve’s gaze as you allowed yourself to breathe for a bit. You were quiet for only a second. 

“This will work,” You whispered. 

Steve nodded and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, it will.” 

The three simple words comforted you, they wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you savored the feel of them. For the first time, probably ever, your overthinking mind felt sated; it couldn’t find anything wrong about this moment. You finally felt like you could breathe so goddamn easy because there was nothing to truly worry about, and you found yourself wanting to cry at that feeling, but you didn’t. Instead, you kissed Steve’s cheek and then his other one, and then his nose and forehead. 

“This is random, but I’m really, really glad that I was forced to be your assistant.” 

Steve laughed a bit at that. “Sometimes it doesn’t even really feel like that's where we started.” His hands found yours, intertwining them and giving them a light squeeze. “But, I’m so fucking glad that it was you.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

author’s note: i'm gonna miss these two<333 i hope yall enjoyed this series! its been a rollercoaster fr (a good one for the most part though lol) i might do lil blurbs for these two someday because i'm way too attached to them and i have some minor ideas of some things i'd wanna do involving them.... but that probably won't happen for a while because after somehow being able to put out chapters weekly for this i do in fact need a Break lmao but anyway thank you for reading and enjoying this series🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[schrodingerspsycho]

Maybe This Time - Part 1

Pairing - Van Palmer x Band Kid!Reader

Warnings - drug use (weed), blink-182

Word Count - 7.6k

Summary - Van falls for a band kid. What will it take for them to realize that you’ve fallen for them too?

Author’s Note - Merry Christmas everyone!🎄🎁🎅☃️❄️ (and happy holidays to everyone who celebrates other things!) I’m so glad I got this done in time, it ended up being a lot longer than I expected. Lots of fluff. No crash AU. They/them pronouns used for Van and reader, both are referred to as girls. And I can’t bear to write Tai and Van in the same story and not have them be together because they’re soulmates, so Taissa just doesn’t exist in this one. I also created a whole marching show for this and it was the most difficult scene I’ve ever written so please show this some love🙏

Help Palestine by clicking this link!🇵🇸

On the very first day of school, Van noticed you. You were in their English class and you were cute, far cuter than they remembered. But you were quiet and you sat in the row in front of them, so they never really got the chance to talk to you. Sure, they were loud and outgoing with their friends and their team, but they were much more reserved with people they didn’t know. Especially a girl that they liked.

It was easy enough to keep you off their mind for most of the semester. It wasn’t an all-consuming crush or anything, just a reason for them to love a class they’d never been very good at. That was until the few weeks after fall break when soccer practice overlapped with marching band rehearsal.

Coach Martinez always likened the distant sounds of the band to a stand-in for the crowd cheering and claimed it was good to practice ignoring outside distractions. It bothered some of the other girls, but Van always liked listening to them while the team had the ball on the other side of the field during scrimmages. Then one day as they were heading toward the locker rooms after practice, they heard a laugh from the direction of the band room. It was loud and melodic, and when they saw you smiling with your friends, their heart skipped a beat. Screw soccer; they already won nationals last year. Their new goal was to be the one who made you laugh like that.

“What are you looking at?” Natalie asked, coming up behind them. Van didn’t even realize they’d stopped walking.

“That girl’s in my English class,” they answered, pointing. “I didn’t know they were in the band.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N. They play the trombone, I think.”

“Wait, you know them?” Van asked, sounding a little too excited. Thankfully, Nat pretended not to notice.

“Yeah, they’re friends with Kevyn. I’ve smoked weed with them a few times. They’re cool but kinda nerdy. Kinda like you.” Nat gave them a knowing smirk, and Van turned away to hide their blush. “C’mon, let’s go. Jackie’ll have a conniption if we’re late for the post-practice meeting.”

Van nodded and followed her into the locker room, but they barely heard a word of Jackie’s speech. They couldn’t stop thinking about you. And as much as they hated having crushes, the butterflies in their stomach weren’t as painful as they’d been in the past. Maybe with you, things could actually go their way this time. You knowing Nat certainly seemed like a good sign. It was like Lottie said, Van decided. There’s no such thing as false hope.

Van Palmer sat one row behind and two seats to the left of you in English class. You’d been going to the same school for four years now, but this was the first class you’d had together. You couldn’t help but hope that you’d be able to get to know them better, but the way your heart pounded every time you walked into the room made it impossible to even say hi to them. You’d had a huge crush on them ever since last year when you and Kevyn went to see his friend Natalie play in the state championship game. That’s when the beautiful redheaded goalie caught your eye, and you’d been dreaming about them ever since.

Luckily, you didn’t have to talk to them on your own. After three months of less-than-stellar class discussions, your teacher decided to let you pair off into groups to talk about the latest reading assignment. You took a deep breath as your classmates shuffled around you, but before you could even get up from your chair, Van was standing beside you.

“Hey, Y/N, do you want to work together?” they asked, wringing their hands nervously.

“Yeah, sure,” you nodded. They returned your smile and slid into the chair next to you, its usual occupant now giggling with his friends in the back row. “So, what did you think of Frankenstein?”

“It was the scariest book about parenting I’ve ever read,” they quipped. You snorted, and their eyes shone as a proud grin spread across their face.

“That’s one way to describe it,” you smiled. “So who do you think was the villain, Frankenstein or his monster?”

“Oh, Victor was the villain, no question,” they declared. “To create life only to abandon it when you know its existence is cursed? C’mon, he’s literally the definition of a mad scientist.”

“Yeah, but the monster did some pretty fucked up things too. I mean, he killed a kid.”

“And that was horrible, obviously. But I think the real question is whether his circumstances made him evil or if the darkness was inside him all along. And then if it was inside him the whole time, then isn’t it really Victor’s fault for creating him in the first place?”

“That’s a really good way of looking at it,” you said, and they glanced down at the floor. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

Van shrugged. “I really liked this book. I don’t know, something about it just clicked with me.”

“Well, then you can speak for both of us when Ms. Fite comes over because I’ve got nothing,” you chuckled.

They smirked. “Yeah, alright. I think I can do that.”

Despite the rest of the conversation flowing naturally with you trading jokes as you discussed the book, you didn’t talk to Van much after that. But they did smile and wave at you every day when you walked into class, so you considered that a win. And you noticed that they were speaking up more in class discussions, which you knew had to be a coincidence. But they were really smart, and it brought a smile to your face every time you heard them speak. You were starting to feel like Frankenstein’s monster, with your perfect girl just out of reach, unable to make them yours.

“Hey, does anyone want to go to the movies with me Friday night?” Natalie asked as the team got changed after practice a week later. “I’ve been wanting to see Bound.”

“Ooh, I’ve been wanting to see that too!” Lottie exclaimed, getting up to stand at Nat’s side.

“Jackie? Shauna? What about you? I heard you talking about it a few practices ago.”

“I wish we could, but Shauna and I are gonna go see Jeff play in the football game,” Jackie smiled, winking at Shauna.

“But the football team sucks,” Mari said with a look of disgust.

“Yeah, but it’s kinda fun to watch them play like shit,” Shauna smirked.

“It’s very fun to watch them play like shit. And us national champs get in free!” Jackie grinned.

“Can I come to the movies?” Misty asked eagerly, bouncing over from the equipment closet. Lottie scoffed, but Nat turned around slowly and looked her up and down.

“Sure,” she said, and it was clear Misty was trying hard to contain her excitement. She was practically vibrating. “Meet us by the field after school.”

“Okay! I can’t wait!” Misty beamed, skipping away. Lottie raised an eyebrow at Nat.

“Oh, fuck off,” she defended, smirking. “She’s awkward, but she’s harmless.”

“Yeah, be nice to her. She’s a great manager,” Laura Lee chimed in, and Jackie gave her an approving nod.

Lottie, Shauna, and Mari rolled their eyes, and Van chuckled. They were too preoccupied with thoughts of you to join in on the teasing like they usually did, but they’d been listening to every word.

“What about you, Palmer?” Nat asked, walking up to them as she grabbed her bag. “You wanna come see Bound with us? It seems like your kinda movie.”

“It is. That’s why I saw it opening weekend,” Van replied. Nat nodded.

“Alright, suit yourself,” she said, slamming her locker door shut. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya,” Van smiled as Nat followed Lottie out of the locker room. Then when the conversation died down, they walked over to where Jackie and Shauna were giggling together, their hands stuffed into their back pockets. “Hey, can I come with you guys to the game on Friday?”

“The football game?” Jackie asked in disbelief. “Since when does Van Palmer have any interest in football?”

“I don’t. I just wanna get out of the house,” they shrugged, glancing at the floor. It was believable enough. None of their teammates knew any of the details, but they knew their mom was a bitch. “I mean, if we get in free, then it seems like a pretty good way to pass the time.”

“Sure,” Shauna smiled. “I can give you a ride, too.”

“Thanks.”

“Great!” Jackie exclaimed, reaching out and squeezing Van’s hand. “This is going to be so fun!”

Van nodded in agreement and turned back to their locker. It would be fun, but not for the reason Jackie thought. They just had to make sure they didn’t find out that they only wanted to watch you march.

By the time Friday rolled around, Van still hadn’t worked up the courage to talk to you again. You did smile and wave back at them every time you walked into class though, so they considered that a win. But Van could never be satisfied with small victories. They were a national soccer champion, after all. They hoped that stepping into your world would give them something to talk to you about. Then maybe they’d be closer to winning the prize they were really after.

Van didn’t have to wait long before Shauna pulled up, with Jackie calling out to them excitedly from the passenger side. They greeted them with a smile as they climbed into the backseat, and Jackie turned to look at them as Shauna sped away.

“So, are you excited for the game?”

“Excited to see our team get their asses handed to them, more like,” Shauna said. Van laughed.

“Well, now I am.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it. They’re awful,” Jackie sneered. Before Van could respond, Shauna reached out and switched the tape to Nevermind. Jackie whipped around to glare at her playfully. “Hey!”

“Sorry, were you listening to that?”

“Yeah, I was, actually.”

“Well, too bad. Van likes Nirvana, and so do I. You’re outvoted.”

Jackie scoffed, pretending to be offended, and Shauna grinned. “You didn’t even ask Van. Maybe they should get to choose the music.”

“No, I like listening to you two bicker like an old married couple,” Van deadpanned, which sent all three girls into a fit of laughter.

“See, this is why we really go to the football games,” Shauna said, glancing at Van in the rearview mirror. Jackie nodded.

“Oh, for sure. It’s never about the boys.”

Van chuckled and turned to stare out the window. If only they knew, they thought to themself with a smile. If only they knew.

They arrived at the game just as the band was marching around the track. And although it took more effort than they would like to admit, Van managed not to look for you as they followed Jackie and Shauna into the bleachers. They would have plenty of time to admire you when you performed at halftime. That was when the band played, wasn’t it?

“Why are those seats empty?” Van asked, pointing to the section next to them. They were in the student section, which was far less populated than it was for their games, right next to the stairs and a few rows from the top.

“That’s where the band sits,” Jackie explained. Van’s eyes widened. They sat down and started bouncing their leg, trying not to picture you sitting just a few feet away from them. Luckily, they were distracted when the band began to take the field. Oh, right, there was a pregame.

“So why did you really want to come to the game?” Jackie asked, leaning forward to peer at Van.

“What?”

“Oh, come on. We all know you’ve never wanted to see a football game before. There’s gotta be a reason,” Jackie smirked, and Van stared at the ground. “Do you like one of the guys on the football team?”

Van made a face.

“Leave them alone, Jackie,” Shauna said. She was sitting between them, and Van was suddenly very grateful for the small buffer she provided.

“I’m just asking! You don’t have to tell us who it is, Van. But I can tell there’s someone you were hoping to see.”

“I don’t like any of the football players,” Van said, repulsion evident on their face. But before any of them could say anything else, the band began to play the fight song. Van turned to watch, smiling unconsciously when they spotted you in the front row.

“Oh my god, wait! Do you like one of the guys in the band?” Jackie exclaimed. Van felt their face heating up. “No way, you totally do! What instrument does he play?”

“I don’t like any guys,” Van defended weakly.

“Oh, come on! Your face is as red as your hair, I know you’re lying. Just tell us about him! We can keep a secret!”

“Jackie, just drop it,” Shauna growled. “They don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Jeez, we’re just talking about boys,” Jackie said. Van shifted uncomfortably, and Shauna gave them an apologetic glance. “Y’know, if you tell me who it is, I might be able to give you some advice on how to woo him. I mean, this is so exciting! You’ve never liked a guy before!”

Van scoffed.

“I don’t think they want to talk about boys,” Shauna said pointedly, but Van missed her inflection and Jackie’s response. The band had begun filing into the stands and they sat up to watch, their eyes never leaving you. Their heart beat faster the closer you got until you finally found your seat, right next to the stairs and one row in front of Van. You started when you locked eyes, a shy grin spreading across your face, and Van beamed and waved at you. You waved back before turning to hear what your director was saying, and Van let out a shaky sigh.

“Holy shit! You like that girl, don’t you?” Jackie practically yelled in surprise.

“Shut up!” Van hissed, whipping around to glare at her. “What the fuck, Jackie?”

“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly, much quieter this time. “I just didn’t know you were a lesbian.”

Van put their head in their hands and groaned.

“We won’t tell anyone,” Shauna said softly, patting Van’s back. “Right, Jackie?”

“Of course not! And we totally support you. I-I was just surprised- which now that I think about it, I probably shouldn’t be. It actually makes a lot of sense.”

“Seriously?”

“No, it’s fine,” Van sighed, giving Shauna a grateful glance. “I don’t really care about people knowing. I mean, don’t tell anyone, please, but it’s fine if you guys know. I just… don’t want Y/N to know that I like them.”

“Why not?” Jackie asked, her voice genuine. “If you like them, then you should ask them out.”

“I can’t just ask them out, I barely know them.”

“You did come to a football game just to see them play in the band,” Shauna remarked. “And they smiled at you. That seems pretty friendly to me.”

“They’re cute,” Jackie grinned. “Do you wanna tell us about them?”

“Well, they’re in my English class, and we did an assignment together last week. They’re really funny, and sweet, and… beautiful- god, I don’t know! This is stupid!”

“It’s not stupid,” Jackie chuckled.

“You’ve never talked about a crush before, have you?” Shauna asked warmly. Van shook their head.

“Before today, the only person who knew I was a lesbian was Nat, and that’s not really her thing,” they sighed. “And it’s not like I’ve ever done anything about a crush before anyway. It’s different for me! Before I can even ask if they might like me, I have to figure out if they like girls! And spoiler alert, most of the time, they don’t.”

“But you don’t know that. You just need to talk to them and ask. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“No offense, Jackie, but I don’t think you know the first thing about homophobia.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Jackie admitted. “But I do know about flirting. And Y/N has been staring at you for, like, five minutes.”

Van’s eyes widened as they fought the urge to turn around. “What? Really?”

“Totally. They’re trying to be subtle, but they’re not very good at it.”

Van grinned in spite of themself. “What do I do?”

“Smile back at them!” Jackie encouraged. “You’ve gotta let them know you’re interested.”

“Okay,” Van nodded, trying to swallow their nerves. They turned around slowly to find that you were indeed staring at them. They gave a little wave when they met your eyes, and you nearly missed when your director called your instruments up. “Oh, shit! I distracted them!” Van groaned. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s fine! They’re still playing, aren’t they?” Jackie said, louder now over the sound of Eye of the Tiger. If they weren’t so embarrassed, Van would’ve marveled at how great you sounded.

“And their ears turned red,” Shauna whispered, leaning over and pointing. “You should at least talk to them as a friend. Y’know, get to know them. That’s probably the best way to find out if they like girls.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” Van conceded.

Jackie clapped her hands excitedly. “Yay! And you have to tell us how it goes, okay? I want to know all the details about you and your soon-to-be-girlfriend!”

“Fine,” Van smiled, rolling their eyes. “But neither one of you is allowed to talk during halftime. That’s when they perform.”

“Yeah, okay,” Shauna smirked while Jackie buried her head in her shoulder to hide her laughter. “We’ll be quiet.”

Van knew for a fact that Shauna and Jackie had never been quiet in their lives, but they just shook their head and kept their mouth shut. Luckily, the conversation shifted to other topics, and Van started to feel relaxed. And when the buzzer finally rang at the end of the first half, all their nerves had been replaced by eager anticipation.

Well, most of their nerves.

“And now, please welcome to the field your 1996 Wiskayok High School Marching Yellowjackets!” the announcer boomed. Someone slapped Van’s shoulder. They didn’t see if it was Jackie or Shauna, but they didn’t really care. All of their attention was focused on you. “This year’s performance is a tribute to the greatest spy in movie history. Please enjoy Bond, James Bond.”

“No way,” Van breathed as the first note rang out through the stadium. You were playing the 007 theme. It sounded exactly like it did in the movies! And Van should know, they’d seen all seventeen of them.

But just when they thought they couldn’t be more impressed, they noticed what formation the band was marching into. They had started out in lines like they were for the parade, but as they went along, parts of the band would break off and play in place, the squares forming five dots across the field. Just like the beginning of the gun barrel sequence.

“Holy shit,” Van whispered, scooting up to the edge of their seat. And if Jackie and Shauna were laughing at them, they didn’t notice. They watched with rapt attention as the band played, the sound filling the entire stadium. Then everyone began marching again, all moving in different directions at different gaits. How anyone could remember where to go was completely beyond Van as they gazed in wonder at the picture you were creating. The dot in the middle of the field had morphed into a circle, and everyone else formed eight curved lines spiraling away from it. Now they were the gun barrel! And when you all moved in sync across the field to move the gun barrel to the left, Van considered their mind officially blown. Then the drums made a sound like a gunshot, and they all began to trickle down to the front of the field, starting from the top. Just like the blood, they folded together until they were in one big row on the sideline. And when you played the final note, Van leapt to their feet and cheered.

“Oh my god, you’re so whipped,” Jackie laughed.

“Shut up,” Van said, still smiling. “I mean, come on! Tell me that wasn’t the coolest thing you’ve ever seen!”

“It was cool,” Shauna agreed. “But Jackie’s right. You’re totally whipped.”

“Alright, well, fuck both of you,” Van retorted, sitting back down as the announcer’s voice filled the stadium once more.

“The Wiskayok Marching Yellowjackets will now perform their second movement, “Nobody Does It Better” from the 1977 film The Spy Who Loved Me, featuring trombone soloist Y/N L/N!”

“Oh, shit, that’s them!” Van cried. The band all ran to stand in an arc, but you stayed on the sideline, front and center. Van fought the urge to leap to their feet again.

“Looks like your girl’s a rock star,” Jackie smirked.

“Hell yeah they are,” Van grinned. “I have great taste.”

The band started playing, and Van could hear Carly Simon’s voice in their head. It was incredible how the music could be played on a completely different set of instruments and still sound the same. And when you began to play your solo, the notes ringing out clear and beautiful through the microphone, Van couldn’t help but quietly sing along.

“But like heaven above me

The spy who loved me

Is keeping all my secrets safe tonight”

“In 1973, “Live and Let Die” earned the Bond series its first music-related Oscar nomination for best original song, performed by Paul McCartney and Wings,” the announcer explained when the second song ended. “And now, the Marching Yellowjackets will close out their performance with their version of this chart-topping hit, arranged by our very own Director Frank Jones!”

“Wait, “arranged”? What does that mean?” Jackie asked. Van wouldn’t have been able to answer; they were clueless about music too. But they didn’t hear her, because once again, they were too busy watching you. You had run back to stand with the other trombone players in the arc, and they could tell you were smiling even from the stands.

Once again your performance sounded exactly like it did in the movie. Even Jackie and Shauna were singing along this time. And before Van even realized “Live and Let Die” had ended, the band was playing the 007 theme and moving again. And when you played the final note, you formed the 007 logo in the center of the field. They leapt to their feet again, cheering even louder than before, and they only sat down when the band started making their way back to the stands.

“Woo! Way to go, band!” Jackie shouted once you were in earshot. “You guys were great!”

“What are you doing?” Van hissed.

“I’m just showing my appreciation for our music department,” Jackie shrugged coyly while Shauna snickered. “Do something, they’re looking at you!”

Van blushed and turned to find you smiling at them. They grinned back and flashed you a thumbs-up, which you returned with a chuckle.

“Aren’t you glad I’m here to be your wingwoman?” Jackie smirked.

“Yes,” Van sighed reluctantly, rolling their eyes. “But I will set you on fire if you do anything like that again. That was mortifying.”

“Oh, bite me,” she said sarcastically, a smug grin on her face. “Without me, I bet you wouldn’t even be able to say hi to them.”

“Well, maybe I like pining from the shadows.”

“Again, you came to the football game just to watch them march. That’s not very ‘from the shadows’ of you.”

“Shut up, Shauna,” Van laughed, nudging her.

The football team lost sixty-five to three, apparently their worst game all season. But Van couldn’t care less. They were on cloud nine for the whole second half, the world seeming to stop every time you turned around and grinned at them. They were barely able to pay attention to Jackie and Shauna’s playful bickering as they left the stadium.

“Van, look, there they are!” Jackie exclaimed, pointing subtly to where you were walking through the parking lot with your friends.

“You should go talk to them,” Shauna encouraged with a warm smile.

“No, I… I can’t do that,” Van stuttered, all their nerves returning at once. “They’re busy, I don’t want to bother them.”

“C’mon, they’re not doing anything!” Jackie said exasperatedly. “Just say hi, it’s not that hard! Go on, go!” She pushed Van toward you, but they just stood there, trying and failing to not stare at you.

“I just don’t wanna mess this up,” Van murmured.

“You’re not gonna mess it up,” Shauna said gently. “Just talk to them as a friend, remember? You got this.”

Van stepped forward hesitantly, biting their lip. Then a gust of wind knocked a feather out of your plume and blew it into Van’s left cheek. “Yeah, I can’t do this,” they gasped, turning back quickly.

“Yes, you can! There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Shauna said, but Van just hugged their chest tightly and shook their head.

“Look, either do it or don’t, but can you make a decision, please? It’s freezing out here,” Jackie complained. Shauna gave her a side-eye.

“It’s okay, Van. You’ll get another chance on Monday, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess,” they sighed. You were moving farther and farther away, but their anxiety kept them rooted to the spot. So much for their usual cocksure attitude; they couldn’t even say hi to a girl they liked.

They climbed into Shauna’s car and pressed their forehead against the window, watching you walk up to the band door and feeling sorry for themself. Then you made eye contact with them, your beautiful smile shining on your face. Van waved, but you disappeared into the band room like they weren’t there at all. I knew it. They never like girls, Van thought bitterly, putting their head in their hands. Or maybe they just don’t like me.

“They just waved at me again!” you exclaimed once the door had shut behind you.

“Oh my god, when?” Your two best friends ran up to you, grinning eagerly.

“Just now! They were leaving in their friend’s car, I just saw them!”

“Did you wave back?”

“No, I… I freaked out. I froze.”

“Oh, come on!” Lauren cried.

“You’ve been flirting with them the whole game, how could you drop the ball now?” Liv slapped you in the arm playfully.

“I didn’t mean to!” you groaned. “Trust me, no one’s more disappointed in me than I am.”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty invested in your love life,” Liv quipped.

“Do you really think Van likes me?”

“Of course they like you!” Lauren smiled. “You saw how they were looking at you, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Then you’ve gotta talk to them!” Liv insisted. “On Monday, in class. It’s the perfect time to make your move!”

“My move? What’s my move? I don’t have moves!”

“Just talk to them,” Lauren said. “The moves will come to you in the moment. All you gotta do is be yourself.”

“Yeah, Van would have to be a real idiot if they didn’t want you,” Liv chimed in. You smiled.

“Thanks, guys. I’ll try to talk to them on Monday.”

“Don’t try, just do it!” Liv smirked.

“We believe in you!” Lauren grinned. You rolled your eyes. It was a lot easier for them to say. They weren’t the ones who risked getting rejected by the most beautiful girl in school.

Despite your friends’ encouragement, neither one of you made an effort to talk to each other on Monday. Van still smiled and waved at you, and you returned the gesture like always, but that was as far as you had the guts to take it. Van tried not to let it sour their mood at practice that afternoon.

“Hey, how was Bound?” they asked when Nat and Lottie walked in.

“It was great,” Lottie answered. “It was what happened afterward that was a nightmare.”

“What do you mean?”

“Misty! She went fucking berserk on this old lady, it was crazy!”

“Some housewife was saying some homophobic shit after the movie,” Nat explained.

“And now, Misty’s banned from the theater,” Lottie huffed before walking away. Van raised an eyebrow at Nat.

“She was possessed!” she grinned with an adoring look in her eyes. “I was wrong, man. She’s definitely not harmless.”

Van scoffed. “Maybe I should’ve gone with you after all.”

“Naw, I bet you had fun at the football game,” Nat smirked, nudging them. Van looked away as she leaned in. “Did you enjoy the band’s performance?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yeah? Then I’m sure you have no idea why Jackie and Shauna keep glancing over here either, do you?”

Van groaned.

“Did you tell them or did they find out?” Nat asked softly.

“They found out.”

“And are you good?”

Van smiled at her. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good,” Nat nodded. Then she winked. “You should totally ask Y/N out, by the way.”

“Fuck you,” Van chuckled.

“It’s not me you should be fucking,” Nat teased. Van gaped at her as she scurried away, laughing. Van just shook their head and got changed for practice, avoiding Jackie and Shauna’s piercing gaze. If anything could get you off their mind, it was soccer.

It worked for a while. It was their best practice so far this season; they didn’t let a single ball get past them. But the respite was short-lived. Their thoughts of you returned the moment Coach Martinez blew the whistle at the end of practice, and so did their sour mood. And it only grew as the week went on and the idea of talking to you became more and more impossible. Luckily, Nat noticed Van’s pain and offered them the perfect solution.

“Hey,” Van greeted as they approached the spot behind the dumpsters where Nat had instructed them to meet. “Thanks again for hooking me up.”

“No problem,” Nat smiled. “Happy to help.”

Van nodded, ignoring Nat’s uncharacteristic cheeriness, and handed over the small wad of cash. Nat pocketed the money, and after glancing around to make sure no one was looking, handed Van a small bag of weed.

“I think you’re really gonna like this stuff,” she said with a wink.

“Thanks,” Van smiled, eyeing the weed hungrily. Then they heard footsteps behind them and they snapped their head up to stare fearfully at Nat.

“Don’t worry, it’s cool,” Nat said. And before Van could react, someone else had walked into their little hiding spot.

“Sorry I’m late,” a familiar voice said. “My trig teacher was being a bitch again and held us after the bell.”

“No problem,” Nat grinned. “I was just finishing up another sale. Have you, uh, met my teammate?”

“No, I don’t think I- Van.”

Van had finally turned around, and they were now face to face with their worst nightmare. Or their dream come true, depending on what happens next. “Hey, Y/N.”

“So you have met,” Nat said, breaking the silence after a few moments. “I figured, I’ve got two people buying from the same batch, why not do it at the same time?” She gave Van a knowing grin, and Van fought the urge to throttle her.

“Uh, yeah, that’s uh… smart,” you said. Then you handed her the money and she gave you a bag just like Van’s. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Nat replied. “Now, I’ve gotta run, but it would be better if you two could wait a minute before you leave. Y’know, make this look less like a drug deal.”

“Yeah, sure. We can do that,” you nodded, avoiding Van’s eyes. “Thanks again.”

“See ya around, Y/N. Van, you’ll have to tell me how you like it at practice next week.”

Van watched her go, and then they were left alone with you. The only sound was the pounding of their heart, and they prayed you couldn’t hear it.

“So, uh… how have you been?” you asked nervously.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“I saw you at the football game last week. Your show was really great.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. “I’m glad you got to see it.”

“It was so cool how you did the gun barrel sequence. And your solo sounded amazing!” Van gushed. “It was just like the movies! If I’d known that marching band was so cool, I would’ve gone to a football game a lot sooner.”

You blushed, and Van’s anxiety skyrocketed. They hadn’t meant to say that. Now they’d really messed up.

“I’m glad you liked it,” you breathed.

“I, uh, I have to go,” Van announced, clearing their throat loudly. “I have to catch the bus.”

“But the school buses have already left.”

“No, the city bus,” Van explained. “The nearest stop is a mile away, so I need to start walking.” They turned and left the spot behind the dumpsters, but you stopped them before they could get any farther.

“I could give you a ride,” you called. Van turned back around slowly. “If you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally. I mean, I’ve got a car and nowhere to be. It’s not a limo or anything, but it’s better than the city bus.”

Now Van was the one who was blushing. “Yeah, that sounds great,” they grinned shyly.

“Perfect,” you beamed, pulling your key out of your pocket. “Right this way, m’lady.”

Van giggled and followed your lead. Maybe they really did have a chance this time.

“You can throw your backpack in the backseat,” you said as you climbed into the car. “And you can pick some music, my tapes are in the glovebox.”

Van nodded, placing their backpack at their feet and opening the glovebox. They were expecting to find two or three tapes, maybe four, but you had nearly a dozen stacked in there. “Woah!” they exclaimed, glancing between you and the tapes. “How do you have so many tapes? Are you, like, rich or something?”

“No, I’m not rich,” you chuckled. “My aunt owns the record store downtown. I get a discount on all the music I want, and they gave me a bunch of their old tapes from the seventies. David Bowie, Queen, the Ramones, stuff like that.”

“No way, I love Queen and Bowie!” Van cried.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! I went as the Aladdin Sane album cover for Halloween a few years ago!”

“You did? That’s awesome!”

“Well, I already have the red hair,” Van joked. You laughed. “I love that record store, it’s so cool that your aunt owns it.”

“We’ll have to go there together sometime. I bet I can get you a discount too.”

“Yeah, that would be fun,” Van said softly, turning back to look through the tapes. They slid David Bowie’s Let’s Dance into the tape deck as you pulled out of the parking lot. You began tapping out the rhythm of “Modern Love” on your steering wheel, and Van joined you on air guitar. When the chorus came on you belted it out, both of you singing off-key. Everything felt so natural that Van almost forgot about being anxious.

“Do you usually buy from Nat?” you asked them.

“Yeah. I don’t smoke a lot of weed, but when I do I get it from her. I think everyone on the team does, it’s just easier. What about you?”

“I usually buy from Kevyn, actually. But he sent me to Nat this time. I guess he doesn’t have anything to sell right now or something.”

“Huh. Yeah, something like that,” Van muttered.

“Do you ever smoke with your teammates?”

“Sometimes I’ll smoke with Nat and Lottie, but most of the time I smoke alone. I usually have to smoke it right after I buy it since I can’t keep it at my house.”

“Can’t let your parents find it, huh? My folks are the same way. Couple’a hardasses,” you smirked.

“No, my mom will steal it and smoke it herself,” Van said humorlessly.

“Oh.” You sat in silence for a moment, not quite comfortable but not as awkward as before. “Do you have to be home by a certain time?”

“No,” Van shook their head. “Why?”

“Well, if you don’t want to go home yet, I was thinking we could head to the park a few blocks over. Maybe this time we don’t have to smoke alone.”

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” Van beamed. You returned their eager expression and changed course, turning the music up. Van couldn’t believe their luck.

“Why don’t you guys play at our soccer games?” Van asked while you were rolling your joints.

“We can’t march on the soccer field. We need the yard lines to figure out where we’re going,” you explained. “But we play at basketball games, and we don’t march at those. Y’know, I’m actually not sure.”

“I wish you did play at our games,” Van mused. “That would be so cool.”

“Yeah, it would be fun. I guess I’ll just have to go to them on my own. I can get some of the other trombones to come too. We’ll sing for you.”

Van chuckled. “I bet we’d be undefeated again this year if you did that.”

“Naw, you don’t need our help with that. I saw you playing at states last year. I don’t know anything about soccer, and even I could tell that you guys are amazing.”

“You saw us play at states?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said quietly after a beat, nearly dropping your joint as you tried to light it. “Oh, hey, the album ended.”

“Yeah, it did.”

“Here, let me play you something,” you said, reaching past them for the glovebox. “My cousin visited us from California last summer, and he introduced me to this awesome new band down there. They’re called blink-182.” You pulled out a tape that said Cheshire Cat and put it in and a punk rock guitar riff filled the car. “I think you’ll like them. They don’t take anything seriously.”

“Rude,” Van scoffed, taking a hit and blowing the smoke out the window. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

You continued talking and laughing together as you got high, the weed and conversation relaxing you both. And by the time you got to the end of your joints, you were discussing one of your many shared interests; Star Trek.

“Riker’s actually the reason I started playing trombone,” you said proudly. “The best instrument for the best character.”

“You think Riker’s the best character?” Van repeated, trying to hide their disappointment. “Most girls have a crush on Picard.”

“What? No, I don’t have a crush on Riker,” you insisted, shaking your head. “He’s my favorite character for sure, but I don’t have a crush on him.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely not the character I have a crush on,” you breathed.

“Then who do you have a crush on?” Van asked quietly, unconsciously leaning in. You mirrored them.

“Doctor Crusher,” you answered. “I love how caring she is. And she has such a cute smile… beautiful red hair…”

“You… you like girls?”

You froze. “Um, yeah, I, uh… I do.” You shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t have, like, a problem with that or anything-”

“No, I don’t,” Van said quickly. “I like girls too.”

“You do?” you whispered, leaning in again.

“Yeah, I do.”

And then Van closed the gap. Your lips were chapped, and the smell of weed was almost suffocating, but they never wanted this moment to end. They chased after you clumsily and you cupped their left cheek, deepening the kiss. Then, just when they started thinking the kiss could lead to something more, they caught one of the lyrics in the song.

“I’m so sorry, what is this song about?” Van asked incredulously. You cringed.

“It’s, uh… it’s about a woman who accidentally sleeps with her estranged father.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s what I thought,” they said before bursting into a fit of laughter. You let out a nervous chuckle.

“It’s one of their joke songs,” you explained as you turned off the music. “If I’d known we were going to be doing this I would’ve picked a different album.”

“No, no, it’s hilarious. Now I’m never going to forget our first kiss.”

“First?” You raised an eyebrow. Van just shrugged and smiled at you, their face flushing a beautiful shade of pink. “Wow,” you breathed, and Van saw the desire they’d been feeling reflected in your eyes.

“Yeah, would you, uh… wanna go out with me sometime?” they asked after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? Y’know, since I’m the one with the car?” you smirked. They grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Perfect,” Van said before pouncing on you again. You gripped their hips as they leaned over the gear shift, quickly regaining control and kissing them passionately. Van melted at your touch. “Hey, we’re pretty good at this,” they quipped, maneuvering to sit in your lap.

“Hell yeah we are,” you grinned.

By the time you took Van home, it was already getting dark. And over the next few days, the piece of paper with Van’s messily scrawled phone number got more use than your trombone. You agreed that the best kind of first date was dinner and a movie, and you decided to go and see Wes Craven’s new horror movie Scream. Its opening night lined up with your last day of school before winter break, and you both had a major crush on Drew Barrymore, so it was the perfect fit.

When the day came, you were both nervous wrecks in English class. And not because of your final; although you both probably should’ve studied harder for it. But this was it. Before you’d just been talking, and kissing when you got the chance. But a real date. That made it official. You would be girlfriends.

After deliberating for longer than you would like to admit, you pulled on your favorite button-up shirt and your trusty leather jacket. Then you checked your appearance in the mirror one last time and headed to Van’s house, your heart racing the whole way. You arrived a few minutes early and waited anxiously out front. Van had asked you not to go to the door, but you were starting to feel like you were in the wrong place.

“Hey, Y/N!” Van called excitedly, opening the passenger door and pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hey, Van,” you smiled. They were wearing a denim jacket over one of their rugby shirts. It wasn’t terribly different from what they normally wore, but it was Van. You’d never seen anything more beautiful. “You ready to go?”

Van nodded eagerly. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

You leaned over and placed a quick kiss on their lips. “Me too.”

“Then let’s go already,” they laughed. You drove away and they slid Queen’s Greatest Hits album into the tape deck. You both sang along at the top of your lungs until you reached the cheap Italian place by the theater.

As much as you wanted to hold hands as you walked in, you knew you had to pretend like this wasn’t a date. Neither one of you wanted it to get out that you were lesbians. Too much trouble could come from that. But thankfully the server sat you at the corner table, so you were able to enjoy some modicum of privacy. Still, being together in public was a lot more nerve-wracking than stealing kisses in the janitor’s closet between classes.

“What are you going to get?” you asked as you looked over the menu.

“Spaghetti and meatballs. Easily the best type of pasta,” Van smirked.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Maybe we should share. That way we can do the thing from Lady and the Tramp.”

You laughed, loud and melodic, and Van beamed. “And which one am I?”

“The tramp, obviously. Have you ever seen a more sophisticated lady than myself?” Van said with an exaggerated posh accent. You laughed again.

“If you want me to be a tramp for you, just say so,” you whispered. Van giggled.

“Only if you’re the one paying.”

“I was already planning to,” you smiled.

“You’re too good to me,” they grinned, blushing. You winked.

It was the best meal you’d had in months, and Van would’ve said the same. And the food was good, sure. But it was the company that put this meal above the rest. Being with Van made you happier than you could’ve imagined, and it was only the first date! You were already looking forward to all the memories you knew you would make together. And they would never tell you, but Van was doing the same.

Wes Craven’s Scream was the perfect end to the night. The perfect mix of horror, comedy, mystery, and more movie references than Van makes in a day. Neither one of you was scared of Ghostface, of course, but you held hands anyway. On the way home you forwent the music in favor of discussing the queer undertones of Billy and Stu’s relationship and arguing over who was hotter; Sidney or Gale. And when you dropped Van off you sealed the night with a kiss, a soft, lingering kiss that promised many more to come.

“I’m really glad we did this,” you sighed dreamily as they left the car.

“Yeah, I can’t wait for our next date. Girlfriend.”

You grinned and waved goodbye, already missing them. You were thinking about calling them before they even reached the house. Maybe things are finally starting to look up, you thought as you drove away. Maybe this time we’ll get to be happy.

[rodenticidez]

Hello! I’ve been making a game and wanted to make a character with npd to mix up the character dynamics. The thing is, as you probably know, npd is so stigmatized, which means it’s literally impossible for me to research. So, if possible, I would like to hear some of your experiences with npd (how it makes you think and behave, that type of thing). If you don’t want to answer, feel free to ignore this.

I will do my best but this doesn't apply to all pwNPD. I have other disorders as well that impact it

CW for brief unreality stuff

I tend to view myself as something above people. Shocking, I know. I kind of care about most people in the way I care about an object. If I lost someone in my life it would feel no different than losing one of my fav plushies. I don't treat people poorly for "being inferior" to me but it stops me from forming a close connection to them, it always has. Along with that, I have a hard time comprehending the fact other humans have emotions or that there are emotions I don't feel. I live in a constant numb state with occasional times where I feel angry or I have a "rush" because of something fueling a sense of superiority, almost like adrenaline. This lack of emotion most of the time sometimes makes me feel like I'm not human. So I will intentionally make myself feel negative emotions to regain the feeling of being alive. Any different emotion or feeling I get overwhelms me, I don't like it. I hate feeling emotions on the occasion that I do.

Admiration from people is something that doesn't exactly fuel the feeling of superiority but kinda fills my head with the idea that everyone must love me. Anyone who ever interacts with me. When I was younger this had me thinking I was some kind of celebrity. At the same time, hatred is something that fuels the sense of superiority. When people show how much they hate me, I don't feel offended, I feel better than them. I think they're an idiot for not liking me cause how could anyone not? That also ended up combining with the feeling of being a celebrity but instead of a liked one I thought the world hated me so I was better than them all. I feel like I need to be this perfect person everyone loves but at the same time I don't give a shit about what people think. I'll make myself likeable for certain people but I don't care if other people dislike me as long as there's someone who likes me.

I used to have a really hard time accepting when I'm wrong or hearing any criticisms. Technically I still do but I got a bit better with this. Not exactly in the best way though. Instead of accepting it because I view the person as something equal to me, I accept it because it makes me look good. Someone who can take criticism and accept they're wrong is someone mature and easy to be around. The same goes for interacting with people I don't like or agree with without treating them poorly. Someone who can be respectful is someone people like being around, a good person. So I told myself these things. I treat people I don't like well, I accept criticisms, and I listen when I'm told I'm wrong because it makes me look good and makes me a likeable person.

When I do good things for people, it's not really for them. Guilt too, I don't feel it towards people. Feelings like this are something rare for me. I think I've felt genuine guilt a total of 3 times in my life. What I thought was "guilt" was actually the worry that people won't like me. "I did this and it upset them, now no one's gunna like me" instead of "I did this and it upset them, I don't want them to feel upset" Kind acts are also done to make myself look good, not to make people happy. I was taught as a kid that you shouldn't tell people when you do nice things for them cause it shows you didn't do it to be kind and I never understood that. If I do something nice and it's not acknowledged, I don't want to be nice anymore

Most things I do for the sake of others (kindness, favors, apologizing) I do because it makes me look like a good person. It makes me likeable. I don't do it "out of the kindness of my heart", whatever that means. Some people say that makes you a bad person, but if you're not doing bad things why would it? If I don't tell someone I only do good things for my own benefit they would have no idea, so what difference does it make?

I'm not trusting of people, I don't like to show anything bad about myself to them. I've been getting better at this one. I've had to draft this and come back to it several times now cause it's probably the most open I've ever been about the way I think. The lack of trust makes me feel like everyone is out to get me. While I feel like everyone loves me, I know people don't. I know there are people who would just love to fuck with my head cause that's all I've ever known. Hell, this ask had me thinking you were some narc abuse mf who's asking people so you can trick them into helping you write an article. Nothing against you, just how shit. Adding to the lack of trust.. Since learning I have NPD, I don't know who to believe when I'm told I'm a bad person. I've had people take advantage of the fact I can't tell in the past, they used it to break me down cause I can't rely on my own judgement of whether or not my actions are wrong. This causes some issues with my current bf but we work through it.

NPD is caused by trauma. None of the things I think or feel are something conscious. It's just how the things I went through shaped me, it's all I've ever known. My sense of superiority is something I loved before I got diagnosed. It made bullying through middle school tolerable, sometimes funny. It probably kept me from suicide looking back on how poorly I was always treated. It made holding relationships hard though since I never knew why people saw things I did wrong as something wrong.

Hopefully this is helpful. Can't wait to get a bunch of asks telling me how disgusting I am.

[sonicstalker123]

Protective!Korekiyo x Injured!Reader

CW: Blood, injuries, mentions of chapter 2’s victim, bruises

✨she/her pronouns will be used!✨

Korekiyo is in his lab, admiring all of the items and strangely Angie is in there too, creating a sketch of the god dog statue while Kiyo is infodumping telling her everything he knows about it and seances he’s done in the past.

“Nyahaha! Very inspiring, Kiyo! Have you ever talked to any of the spirits you summon?” Angie asks.

“Mmm, only spirits that have had grudges against other people and then I’ve… helped… out spirits and helped them move on to the afterlife.” Kiyo responds.

“Neat! I’m gonna finish this art piece and give it to you when I’m done, okay? Bye-onara!” Angie leaves.

“Angie is the last person I’d expect to come and visit my wonderful lab and genuinely showed interest in the things here. The only other person that shows interest is Y/N, the way her eyes sparkle when I first showed her everything is something I’ll never forget. It was very adorable. Speaking of which, where is she? We had plans to go to the garden and tell her some stories because she loves listening to them.”

Kiyo leaves his lab and wanders around, with a determined look in his eyes. He runs to a nearby classroom and looks around. “Odd. She comes here occasionally when she just needs a quiet space that usually nobody enters. Y/N comes in here when something serious is on her mind or if she is troubled about something. I learn new things about her all the time.”

Surprisingly enough, Kiyo runs very fast.

“I wonder where she could be. Could she be in her room perhaps?” Kiyo makes his way towards Y/N’s room and knocks on the door. No response. He decides to wait for a bit. After about five minutes he gets worried and calls her phone. Kiyo’s phone continues to ring and nobody picks it up.

He decides to call again and weirdly enough Kaito answers it. “Y/N? Where are you? Are you al-”Kaito interrupts him. “Yo, who is th- Wait… Kiyo??? Where are YOU? Something bad happened at the pool and everybody else is here and we were wondering where you were at. Ya know what? It doesn’t matter. Come to the pool immediately. Monokuma is here too.” Kaito hangs up.

Kiyo decides to text “Y/N” when he starts walking to the pool. ‘Kaito. I’m on my way.’ SEND.

“Hopefully Y/N is there, I just wonder why she wouldn’t message me or give me a call.”

The Ultimate Anthropologist eventually makes his way to the pool. He got lost for a little bit lol

He opens the door and everybody turns their head towards Kiyo. He looks at Y/N and is surprised. “Oh my. Why is she face down on the ground? Why does it look like the pool is a faint shade of red?”

Gonta picks her up and gently rolls her over and Y/N has bruises and blood on her arms and legs. Everybody gasps. His surprised feeling quickly turns to anger once he put the pieces together.

“WHAT HAPPENED. WHO DID THIS? Why is she bloody.”

“Well dipshit, it’s obvious she was attacked. Maybe she was thrown in the pool after she was attacked so she would drown.” Miu says, rolling her eyes. 

“Um… Kiyo.. Kirumi spotted her while she was cleaning and got my attention and Kaito got everybody else.” Tsumugi states.

Kokichi sneaks up to Y/N and starts slapping her in the face continuously, trying to wake her up. “Kokichi, stop! You’re going to make Kiyo even more ma-“ Kaede exclaims while Kiyo turns his head and stands right behind Kokichi. Kokichi sees his shadow and flinches. He eventually stops. He’s actually kind of scared.

“Are you trying to hurt her even more? If so, I will tear out your nerves.” Kiyo asks angrily.

“Grrr… you degenerate male! You should know better to not lay a hand on a girl! Especially my friends!” Tenko exclaims. She gets into a battling stance, wanting to beat the shit out of Kokichi.

Gonta starts to pat her on the back, in hopes of getting Y/N to cough up the water. “Please wake up for not just Gonta, but for all of friends…”

Kiyo walks up to Y/N and sits on his knees next to her. He picks her up and gives her a gentle hug, not knowing what else to do.

Moments pass and he feels that she’s getting warmer (aka blushing) and eventually coughs up a bunch of water.

Kiyo’s eyes widen, along with everybody else. Y/N tries to speak but she’s too busy coughing.

Y/N eventually stops and looks around in a panic. “What- where- KIYO? You’re here?”

Kiyo smiles and nods, putting his hand on her head, almost like he’s protecting her. Y/N smiles real big, still blushing.

“Damn Y/N, were you THAT thirsty or what?” Miu asks, laughing. Everybody but Y/N just gives Miu a LOOK that says ‘are you actually serious right now’.

Almost like “🤨”

Y/N starts to laugh under her breath and everybody then turns to look at Y/N. “Miu-“

Miu turns to look at Y/N, confused. “Yeah?”

Y/N just starts to laugh… like a genuine laugh. Everybody is just dumbfounded.

“I- That joke was… hahaha- very funny!” Y/N exclaims while trying to catch her breath.

“Wowwww, Y/N, you’re like the ONLY person who finds Miu’s dirty jokes funny.” Kokichi says while rolling his eyes.

Kiyo then starts to look at everybody in the room. “Anyways, Y/N, do you remember who your attacker was? Do you remember what they looked like?”

Y/N starts thinking to herself. “Umm, uhh…whoever it was… was short. I only saw a silhouette. I only saw them for a brief second…. I think everything went black? I could’ve been attacked and pushed out the window.”

Ryoma shudders. “I’ve destroyed the mafia before, but how come somebody falling out of a window send chills down my spine..? Odd.”

Kiyo then looks at Ryoma, Himiko and Kokichi rather menacingly, eyes glowing.

Himiko is the only one who’s actually terrified. Ryoma sighs. “You don’t need to suspect me, I was practicing tennis in my room.”

“Why would you suspect me? I have nothing against Y/N!” Kokichi yells.

“LIES! Just last week you pulled a massive prank on Y/N by hiding a bunch of her belongings! Some of them are STILL missing!” Kiyo yells with a hint of growl.

Kokichi starts laughing. “That’s hilarious!! She’s just such an easy target. She’s just dumb. I could prank the absolute shit out of her and nobody without suspect a thing.”

Korekiyo growls. “How DARE you say such a thing?”

“Oh man! It seems like you’re upset with me! I probably should’ve lied!”

Y/N looks up at her boyfriend. “Kiyo… I greatly appreciate you protecting me, you don’t know how much it means to me…”

“But of course, Y/N, you’re very precious to me. I would do anything for you.” Kiyo responds.

Y/N looks at Kokichi and growls. “You’re the one who took my prized belongings?!” Her eyes glow.

Kokichi sighs. “LIKE I’VE SAID BEFORE… Y/N… you’re so slow and a—“

Y/N dashes towards Kokichi with intense anger. She tackles him and glares at him rather intensely. “You need to learn to shut your fucking mouth, you motherfucker.”

“Y/N, please stop! Fighting with Kokichi will get us nowhere. We need to figure out who hurt you. But first. Monokuma! Come on out!” Kiibo yells and Monokuma pops up.

“What’s up? You called?” Monokuma responds.

“Take her to a nearby hospital!” Kiibo responds back.

“Well, alright, she hasn’t broken any rules. We have to go all the way to Jabberwock Island for that, are you SURE you wanna risk her dying? She might bleed out.”

Kaito and Kiyo look at her and then Monokuma. “Take her. Kiyo will kill us if she doesn’t come back so she better come back, Monokuma!”

“I wasn’t going to give you a choice really, just felt like doing a bit of trolling. As long as she, or anybody else for that matter, don’t break the rules, anybody can go to the hospital. Ah-ah-ah, you can’t come in here, Korekiyo, there’s no room.”

The Monokuma ambulance disappears in the blink of an eye.

Himiko notices some arrows. “Arrows? I bet this was used to attack her. Nyeh? What’s a necklace doing in the pool?”

“A necklace??? I thought that was one of the missing items. Does it have *insert your star sign here* on it?” Kaito asks.

Himiko nods.

“Why and HOW do you know about her necklace, Kaito?” Korekiyo asks.

“Dude, she wears it almost every day. It has a star sign on it and me being the Luminary of the Stars, I had to ask her about it and what star sign it was. And plus I got it for her, I thought it would be something she’d like, it combines our favorite things. Me? Stars and Y/N? Necklaces.”

The Ultimate Anthropologist walks into the pool and grabs the necklace, which was like four feet deep.

“You walked into the pool?! JUST LIKE THAT???? Holy shit, dude. Mad respect.” Kaito responds.

“But now your clothes are soaking wet and dripping water drops everywhere. Go change your clothes and come back here.” Kaede politely demands.

“I’ll be staying here, looking around for clues.” He responds.

Kaede shrugs and starts looking around with Shuichi. Korekiyo walks up to the arrows and notices something sparkly on the arrows. He then looks at the window and sighs. “Dear Y/N, who did this to you?” He hears his phone chime and looks at it. “Y/N??? How is she typing right now?”

‘Hi kiyo, at jabberwock island, hard to type with glass in my arms. I’ll be ok. Love u, they’re taking me to get the glass removed rn, hope to see u soon 🥰’

“GLASS?” Korekiyo exclaims.

“She fell from window, she bound to have glass in arm.” Gonta responds.

“Poor thing, she must be in pain right now. Glass in her arms, she’s bruised and bloody.” Tsumugi responds.

“I noticed that the arrows were sparkly. It’s odd, unless it was Himiko. I doubt it though.” Shuichi states.

Himiko sighs. “Nyeh… I was the one who accidentally hurt her. I was practicing my magic with arrows and she unfortunately went flying out of my window. With the arrows.”

“Himiko’s magic is real?! And she’s not just saying random shit???” Kaito asks.

Himiko doesn’t say anything and leaves the room with a deep and upset sigh.

✨time skip to a few days in the future✨

Kiyo sits on the floor and sighs, burying his face in his hands. Suddenly his phone starts playing a tune. “That’s my ringtone… Y/N?!” He quickly answers.

“Hey, I’m still in the hospital but I figured I’d give you a call in c-case you wanted to hear me s-speak. Damn these IVs are making me super sleepy… can you visit me? It’s… kinda lonely here…”

“On it, dear. See you in a little bit.”

Y/N giggles and says “alrighty” as she ends the call.

Kiyo makes it to the hospital, almost as if Himiko used her magic to get him there.

He finds his beloved, completely passed out from the medicine. “Hah, there she is. Safe. Okay. Thank the dog god.”

“I a-a-assume you’re the one that Y-Y-Y/N was talking about?” Mikan asks while walking up to him. Korekiyo nods. “W-We found a t-total of 53 shards in her a-arms. We got her wounds s-stitched up t-t-too. She will b-be o-o-okay soon.”

Haha iykyk the 53 joke

“I see… thank you.”

Mikan leaves and Korekiyo sits next to Y/N and holds her hand. “Y/N, we know who did this, Himiko did it. She confessed. I’m sure the others are justifiably mad at her. You’re going to be okay, I promise.” Korekiyo holds her hand.

✨time skip to a few days✨

Y/N walks through the hallways, relieved to see everyone, minus Kokichi and Himiko. She ignores them both.

“Hey, welcome back, Y/N!!! You good now? Here’s your necklace! Kiyo here found it and walked STRAIGHT into the water for it. It was super badass!” Kaito exclaims.

[midwestmade29]

Just The Way You Are 🥰

Thanks for the request @officialchristiancagebbgirlblog! I could relate to the topic of your request 100%. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it 🖤 Word count: 1,146 Divider by: @saradika-graphics *GIF is not mine Original Request:

Could I please request a turtleneck Christian Cage fic where he helps the reader feel better about herself after self confidence issues regarding her weight arise please?

Disclaimers: None. All fluff 🙂

When you're feeling down about yourself, Christian reminds you just who you are...

Christian had been written off TV for a while after earning a much-needed break. He just lost his TNT title to his childhood best friend, so to give his mind and body a rest, the two of you were set to go on vacation. Through the entire planning process, you had been so excited to get away with your man and soak up some rays, but unfortunately the closer the vacation got, the more self-conscious you started to feel. Every commercial, magazine and internet post you saw were of women who looked differently than you. They appeared to be flawless from head to toe, from their skin to their small waistlines and everything else in between. The bikinis they wore along with the dresses and other summer clothes were cute, some even sexy, but you had a hard time picturing yourself in them. Your self-confidence was taking a major hit and it started to rob you the joy you once felt about the vacation.

One afternoon, you were trying on some of the clothes you ordered for your trip. There were several dresses, shorts, tank tops and bathing suits you hoped would bring back some of the excitement you had lost, but no such luck. All you saw in the mirror when you stood in front of it was a stretch mark here and a stretch mark there, fabrics that seemed to hug every one of your curves in the wrong way, and patterns and colors that made you stand out more than you wanted them to. When frustration got the best of you, you let out a loud groan and plopped down on your bed with tears in your eyes. A soft knock on the doorframe caught your attention, pausing your thoughts momentarily. “Everything okay in here?” Christian asked softly. He looked around the room and noticed all the pieces of clothing thrown around with tags still attached, most of them inside out and starting to get wrinkled. He walked over to the bed and smiled down at you, but you only covered your face with your arms in response. “Hey, what’s wrong baby? Talk to me,” he murmured as he sat down. “I’m just having trouble finding things to wear for our vacation. Nothing seems to fit right, or I don’t feel attractive in it. This would be easier if I looked like the girls in the pictures,” you said with a sniffle. “I’ve been feeling bad about myself lately,”

Christian propped himself up on his elbow, listening intently to your thoughts and feelings. While he disagreed wholeheartedly about what you were saying, he never interrupted you or made you feel bad for it. Only when you started to apologize for your current state did he stop you mid-sentence, “No need to apologize Y/N. Your feelings are important to me. You can always talk to me about anything,” Christian got up and stood at the foot of the bed, extending his hand to you before walking you over to the mirror. He stood behind you with his chest pressed against your back, gazing lovingly at your reflection.

“Ugh, do we have to stand here? I look terrible,” you groaned. You averted your eyes from the mirror and Christian, but he gently grabbed hold of your chin and turned your head back. “Yes, we do. I have some things I want to show you,” He wrapped one of his arms around the top of your ribcage, resting it beneath your breast before speaking softly, “These here are just one of my favorite parts of you. Do you want to know why?” Your cheeks flushed when you thought about the answer, but Christian surprised you when he explained something totally different. “Your chest is one of my favorite places to rest my head. At the end of a long day when we’re snuggled in bed, I love laying there and listening to your heartbeat. It’s soothing, especially when you run your fingers through my hair,”

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet remarks, but he wasn’t finished yet. He placed both of his hands on your hips, gripping them lightly and grinning. “Your hips are another favorite of mine. I love the way they look in your jeans and how they can make any dress you wear that much sexier. The way they sway when you walk makes me stare in awe every time,” Goosebumps spread all over your body as his fingertips tickled your skin on the way to his next destination. He grabbed the outside of your thighs and squeezed, but this time you cringed at the handful he had. “Please don’t tell me you like those too,” you begged. He ignored your request and continued, “Now these, these are the best. Not only do they look great in shorts, but they look even better when they’re wrapped around me,” You gasped at his last comment and turned around to face him, playfully smacking him on his chest. Your laughter filled the room causing Christian to smile brightly.

He took you in his arms, embracing you as he kissed the top of your head. “You are stunning, Y/N. I love every inch of you, every curve. I don’t want you to forget that. No one else compares to you and they never will. I have one more thing I want to show you,” he said before releasing you. He took his phone out of his pocket and opened his gallery before handing it to you. “I want you to look through all the pictures. You’ll notice there’s several of the same kinds because nearly all of them are of my favorite thing,” Christian instructed. As you tapped and scrolled through the gallery, tears started to well up in your eyes again. This time, they were happy tears. Almost all of his photos were of you, or of you and Christian together. There were photos of you sleeping, ones of you dressed up and some of you in your sweatpants. Pictures of you without makeup on and candid ones that you didn’t even know he took. The ones you noticed that he favorited were pictures you would never have considered to be good ones or flattering of you, but he loved them.

You handed his phone back to him, nearly knocking him over from the force when you hugged him. You buried your face in his chest, holding onto him tightly as you thanked him for everything, “This was so sweet, Christian. Thank you for helping me see myself through your eyes and making me feel better,”

“Of course, baby. You’re perfect in every way, there’s nothing I would change about you. I’ll always be here to remind you exactly who you are, and that’s the most beautiful girl in the entire world,” Christian said lovingly in between planting kisses all around your face.

[rizlowwritessortof]

Unforgivable - Part 2

Sequel to A Little Rowdy, because I just wasn’t done with those two! Planning for three parts (unless my muse goes crazy, it happens). Huge thanks to editsbymichele (IG) for the lovely Beau header - beautiful as always, my friend!! And thank you to @firefly-graphics for the divider!

Beau and Laney have settled into a comfortable relationship, things are smooth and easy - until Laney is threatened, and Beau strongly suspects she’s not the real target.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Laney Marcus

Word Count: 3012

Warnings: Smut (as usual), stalking, menacing behavior

Part 1

Laney watched as the tow truck hauled her car away, Beau’s arm around her shoulders as they stood, talking to Poppernak. “I know you probably think it’s overkill, but I just want to make damn sure nothing else was tampered with,” Beau said, giving her a squeeze, and she nodded.

“I know. I’ll feel better knowing it’s all checked out, thank you.” She had finally stopped shaking, but she was thoroughly spooked.

Beau pulled away, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking down into her eyes. “Listen – I want you to go home with Pops, stay there until I get back.” Before she could speak in protest, he moved to cradle her face with a gentle smile. “I won’t be gone long. But I want to talk to your ex.”

She frowned in confusion. “Garrett? Beau, he’s in prison.”

“Yep. And I want to make sure he isn’t directing this little show from there.”

Poppernak cleared his throat. “You think he could swing something like that, boss?”

Beau sighed, pulling Laney into a hug. “I don’t know, but I want to see him face-to-face and get a read. If it’s not him, then we start from square one and figure it out.” He bent to place a lingering kiss on Laney’s lips. “Pops, drop me off at the office, I need to grab a squad car – Pedro’s out of commission.”

A couple of hours later, Beau sat in an interrogation room in Montana State Prison. It was a longshot that Laney’s ex had anything to do with threatening her, but he wanted to check every possibility. The guard ushered the prisoner into the room, handcuffed him to the ring on the table, and turned to stand quietly in the corner.

Garrett glared at the sheriff, and Beau geared back in his chair, a smirk on his lips as he took in the man’s appearance. “Been makin’ friends, I see.”

Garrett was sporting a black eye and stitches on the right side of his face, along with several other bruises and scrapes. “Fuck you.”

“I’m just here for one question. Did you send someone on the outside after Laney?”

The man stared back at him stupidly. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Just answer the question.”

“How the fuck do you think I’d do that? I’ve been a little busy trying to watch my own ass in this hellhole, so no. I didn’t send anybody after anybody. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m done talking to you.”

Beau nodded. “Glad to hear it. If you did, I’d make sure your hell got much worse.” He stood as the guard came to let the prisoner loose from the table and turn him towards the door. “By the way – happy to see you’re getting a taste of your own medicine.” Garrett glared before turning to leave the room, guard at his back.

Beau stopped to speak to a couple of the guards on his way out, finally heading back out the gates, satisfied that his former prisoner had no involvement in whatever the hell was going on. His mind churned the whole drive home, a sick conviction in his gut that this wasn’t about Laney at all – somebody was targeting her to get to him.

Laney was in the kitchen talking to Poppernak’s mother when Beau got back to Helena, and Pop stepped outside to talk to him quietly before he came inside.

“So what did you find out?”

“It wasn’t him. I didn’t really think so, but I wanted to make sure. Talked to him, talked to the guards, they said he spends half his time in solitary and the other half getting patched up in the infirmary because he’s not smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He doesn’t have any friends in there, and he hasn’t had any visitors or called anybody.” Beau sighed, biting on the inside of his lip. “I’m afraid what’s going on isn’t about her. It’s about me. Somebody’s going after Laney to get to me, and I can’t let that happen, Pops. We need to figure this out.”

The big man nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right boss. And we will. And we just won’t leave her alone until we do.”

“Damn straight.” Beau clapped his deputy on the back, heading inside the house.

“Beau!” Laney walked into his arms, squeezing him tight before pulling back to look up at him. He put a hand to her face with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It wasn’t Garrett, I’m sure of that. Wanted to look him in the eye to make sure. So we’re starting from square one, but I don’t want you to worry, honey. You’re gonna have somebody with you 24-7 until we get whoever’s doing this.”

Laney rode back to the office with Beau, and they picked up her car from the garage there. Beau spoke with the techs, verifying nothing had been tampered with, and they headed back to her place, both ready for a beer and a long, hot shower.

They showered together, but Laney was quiet, withdrawn, and Beau knew she was unsettled from the day’s events. He dried himself and went to the bedroom, pulling on a pair of black sleep pants, then headed to the kitchen to ready the coffee pot for the next morning. When he returned, Laney was still not there, so he walked into the bathroom, watching silently for a moment as she stood in front of the mirror, still wrapped in her damp towel, lost in thought.

At the warm touch of his hands on her shoulders, she moved her gaze to meet his in the mirror, a sorry attempt at a smile quirking at the corners of her mouth. “You okay?” he asked softly.

She leaned back into him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Not really.”

He turned her to face him, bending to kiss her, sweet and gentle. “I’m so sorry, Laney. Whoever this is, they went after you to get to me. I wish I could erase what happened, but I promise you, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“What about you? You keep saying you’ll keep me safe, but what about you, Beau?” She looked at him with tears in her eyes, and he clenched his teeth against a wave of guilt. Because of something he had done, someone he had pissed off – he didn’t know what, or who, but they were willing to terrorize a completely innocent person just to get to him. And she was worrying about him.

“I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ve got Pops and Jenny, my whole team to help me figure it out. We’ll be okay.” He kissed her again, and she reached up to cling to his neck, Beau’s hands splayed over her back to hold her tight. The way her lips moved on his, the tip of her tongue teasing at the seam sent a flash of heat through him, his cock twitching and swelling as their kiss deepened. He lifted his head, his lips parted as he inhaled, staring down into her eyes. “I don’t know how you do that.”

“Do what?” she asked innocently, and he shook his head slightly, a smirk teasing at his mouth.

“Make me want to protect you like some precious thing and at the same time want to make you scream my name.”

She smiled, genuinely this time. “Can’t you do both?” she teased, her eyes sparkling as she loosened her towel, letting it drop to the floor.

“Oh, hell, yeah…” He scooped her up in his arms, moving quickly to the bedroom and laying her down, immediately covering her with his body, his lips on her throat and moving quickly downward to her breasts, her nipples already hard and begging for attention. He teased and nibbled at them briefly, moving down with a low chuckle at her whine. “Patience, darlin’.”

“Don’t be mean,” she pouted, and Beau flashed a sexy grin as he continued kissing his way down her body. He finally settled himself down between her legs, dragging his thumbs up the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs.

“So damn pretty,” he crooned, leaning in close to give a little flick of his tongue to her clit before burrowing into her folds with his lips and tongue, forcing a startled little cry from her lips.

“Beau, oh, my god…”

He peeked up at her again with a smirk. “You can do better than that,” he teased, and then went back to work, determined to make her forget everything but the two of them. Before long she was grasping his hair, writhing underneath him as he held her in place with one arm, his other hand a blur as he fucked her with his fingers, sucking her clit as he worked it with his tongue.

Everything inside her broke loose and she wailed his name, her hand wound so tight in his hair that it ached, and he almost lost control along with her at the desperation in her voice as she begged. “Please, oh god, PLEAAASE… Beau!!” He backed off slowly, easing her down until she went limp, whimpering softly as he grabbed the corner of the sheet and scrubbed it over his face, then moved up to drop gentle kisses to her face and lips.

“You alright, sweet girl?” he murmured as he nuzzled at her neck, lacing the fingers of one hand through hers.

She finally let her eyes drift open, looking up at him with a dreamy smile. “You, sir, are a menace.”

He chuckled, bending down to kiss her softly, teasing at her tongue with the tip of his. She sighed, wrapping her arms around him and dragging her nails whisper-soft down the smooth skin of his back, making him moan.

“That’s your fault. I mean, hell, I walk around at work half-hard all day long.” Her hands reached the firm globes of his ass and squeezed, and he moaned again as the head of his cock barely breached her entrance, still slick and hot from her climax. He pushed ahead, his breath catching in his chest at the feel of her, pulsing and squeezing him tight, and she slid her silken legs up to cling to his hips, straining to pull him deeper.

“Fuck me, Beau,” she whispered, nipping gently at his lower lip, barely able to breathe at the heat in his gaze. He let out a desperate groan, capturing her lips in a ravenous kiss and driving deep inside her, smothering the sounds forced from her with each stroke until they had to break apart, gasping for air.

He kissed her neck, moving down to brush his face over the curve of her breast before latching on to suck a mark into the soft flesh. He looked up into her eyes, the green of his own dark, pupils blown. “You want me nice and deep?” Laney whined softly as he held himself still, resisting her coaxing him to move, and she nodded before tossing her head back into the pillow. “Turn over for me, darlin’.”

He pulled himself free and raised up to his knees, helping her roll to her stomach, his hands smoothing over her hips and helping her raise them until she was on her knees, her head still resting on the pillow. She grabbed fistfuls of the bedding as Beau slid slowly back inside her, rocking back and forth gently for a moment, hands caressing over her smooth skin. Then he pulled back, hesitating for a second before plunging back in to the limit as Laney cried out, her voice muffled in the pillow. He gripped her hips and kept his promise, fucking into her hard and deep, their bodies slapping together in a furious rhythm until she was begging incoherently. Beau clenched his jaw and reached down to strum at her clit, and she shouted into the pillow, almost sobbing as she came, clutching wildly at the sheets.

Beau drove himself on, teeth bared, balls drawn up tight as he finally exploded with a growl, his head spinning with the force of his climax. He fell forward, catching himself on his arms, his heaving chest against her back as she whimpered weakly beneath him.

Laney closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before fielding yet another phone call. The office was hopping the last few days with the annual Oktoberfest and rodeo on the upcoming weekend, and as the week wore on it got crazier. The event was held at the county fairgrounds, so it fell on the County Sheriff’s department instead of the city police, and they were swamped with vendors and participants coming in for permits, asking for information, and settling disputes over anything and everything. When the festival actually began on Thursday, the town would be full to overflowing with people attending, which usually involved a lot of drunks, bar fights and cowboy wannabes getting themselves injured.

She had only seen Beau in flashes, except for when he finally made it back to her place at night, usually late. He had gently laid down the law about her having someone with her at all times if she was out and about, even though they had seen nothing more of their stalker. He was okay with her at the office, where she was surrounded by cops, but made her promise not to leave without Pops or Jenny or someone with her. Her spirit of independence was rebelling, but she knew he was right, and that he just had her safety in mind, so she complied without complaint. Hopefully whoever it was had been discouraged at the organized chaos currently going on in town, but she had that ominous feeling that the other shoe would drop sooner or later.

She finished up her call, looking up at the sound of Beau’s voice near the front desk, where he was dealing with two feuding vendors. She smiled to herself at the way he just seemed to charm them, calming the situation and sending them on their way. He turned, his eyes landing on her, and he spoke to the desk officer before walking her way. “Hey, Laney – how’s your day going?”

“Not as crazy as yours.” She smiled up at him as he perched on the corner of her desk. “You look exhausted, Beau.”

“Nah, I’m good. Gotta be. Got a few more days of this insanity before it’s over, so…” He looked into her eyes with that searching-your-soul gaze that always made her breath hitch in her chest. “Are you doing okay, really? I hate leaving you alone so much after…”

“Beau, I’m fine, really. You’re just doing your job, and I’m a big girl, don’t waste time worrying about me.”

“Nothing to do with you is a waste of my time, darlin’.” His lips quirked in a wistful little smile. “I’d love to kiss you right now.”

“I’d love for you to kiss me right now.” She bit her lip, and he groaned softly.

His tongue darted out to sweep over his lips, and he stood reluctantly. “I’d better get back to work before I do something that’ll get me fired. See you later.” Laney sent him off with a gentle smile, reaching for her ringing phone as he headed into his office.

Cassie and Denise picked her up for lunch, and Denise’s gushing over some of the recently arrived cowboys was a welcome distraction for a while. When she got back to work, Beau was out, and Laney settled back in at her desk to more calls and forms to file.

Beau came in later on, Pops on his heels, and they both headed for his office. A couple of minutes later, Beau charged out of his door, his expression thunderous, his voice loud as he approached the front desk. “Who brought this in?” He waved a manila envelope in the air, waiting impatiently for someone to answer. “Madge?”

Madge glared back at him over the top of her glasses, then barked out, “Aaron!” The desk officer excused himself from the person he was helping and approached the two of them.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Who dropped this envelope off for the sheriff?” Her usual humorless stare was aimed at the young officer, who stammered a little as he answered, aiming his words to Beau.

“Well, sir – I’m sorry, but I don’t know. I was busy with several people, and by the time I noticed it laying on the counter, whoever dropped it off was long gone.”

Beau’s jaw was clenched, but he nodded curtly. “Okay, thank you. I get it, it’s been crazy in here. Better get back to…” he gestured with a head nod towards the man waiting at the counter.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Beau turned, walking back towards his office, tossing his words over his shoulder. “And stop calling me ‘sir’!”

Laney rose from her desk and walked to Beau’s office, glancing at Poppernak as she walked through the door. His face was grim, and she turned to face Beau, who was standing with his hands braced on his desk, his jaw working. “Beau, what is it?”

He shot a glance Pop’s way before standing up straight. “Shut the door, Laney.”

She nodded, then came to his side, and he turned to put his arms around her, hugging her tight for a moment. When he finally let her go, she looked up at him with a worried frown. “Tell me.”

He tilted his head towards his desk, and she pulled free from his grasp to turn and look. The envelope was on top, addressed simply to ‘Sheriff Beau Arlen – Confidential.’ She moved it, her heart beginning to pound in her chest as she stared down at the array of photographs, pictures of her and Beau during their movie night, obviously shot with a long-range lens. With the photos was another handwritten note in large, red letters – ‘YOU CAN’T PROTECT HER.’

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[arty-ffxiv]

about me — people i’d like to know better.

LAST SONG. Online - TWRP Feat. Tom Cardy & Montaigne. I’ve been a fan of TWRP for a number of years now, as well as loving Tom Cardy’s chaotic energy from when I used to watch his Tiktoks (I’ve since deleted the app as it was a huge time-waster for me), so when I heard that they had collabed for a song I knew it’d be a banger. I’ve had it on repeat since it was released.

FAVORITE COLOR. I really love dark greens, burgundy and warm, autumnal yellows. My bestie also gifted me an Oracle deck for my birthday and I adore the similar colours/ wintry forest palette that it has. I think it’s been a big inspiration, even if the cards keep calling me out!

CURRENTLY READING. I’ve been slowly plodding my way through The Way of Kings  by Brandon Sanderson; I’m enjoying it but just have not had the spoons/ attention span to dedicate to reading. I tend to gravitate towards audiobooks nowadays, which I listen to when I’m driving.

The most recent books I’ve finished have been audiobooks during my commutes- I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jeanette McCurdy, and Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism by Amanda Montell.

CURRENTLY WATCHING. I’m watching more YouTube at the moment than serialized shows. One of my favourite YouTube channels, Lore Dump, has started a series on the Yakuza games and I’m really enjoying the chaotic energy that Chase brings to the host seat. 

The idea behind the channel is that one of the three hosts does a full plot recap of a game franchise that the other two have not played or aren’t familiar with. They’re long form videos that you can treat like podcasts or put on in the background (I use them for my commute to/ from work), and they’ve covered series like Bioshock, Metal Gear, Red Dead Redemption and Batman. They also did a 12 video series on Kingdom Hearts that is just under 30 hours long, which I highly recommend if you’re into long haul deep dives!

I love it because the hosts clearly love the series they’re talking about dearly, and hearing the others gradually getting swept up in the excitement of the narratives is really entertaining.

SWEET, SAVORY, OR SPICY? I’m a sucker for savoury foods, but I do get the occasional craving for sweet foods. Sadly I can’t tolerate spicy foods like I used to :<

RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Happily married for the past eight (nearly nine) years! My partner and I married young, and it’s hard to believe it’s been so long already. I adore him so much and it’s been a joy to grow alongside him.

LAST THING YOU GOOGLED. “Do they make scuba suits for dogs”.  This was for our modern day TTRPG game, using the ‘Everyday Heroes’ module for D&D 5e. 

The game is set in Australia in the 2070s after a catastrophic rise in sea levels, and because we’re playing in our home state, we’ve been able to use google maps and a lot of real-world resources in the game which has been super fun. We’ve even made an interactive map to keep track of important locations.

In our last session, we found information that points to us needing to go to locations under the new sealine and joked about taking our rangers’ sniffer dog along on the dive.

The answer we got is yes, there absolutely are diving suits for dogs.

CURRENT OBSESSION. I’ve been getting back into playing mobile games in my downtime! A few long-time favourites of mine are below- bear in mind that I’m on Android so these may not be available on iOS if you want to check them out.

The main one I’ve been playing is called Luna Story; it’s the first in a series of 3 apps that are nonogram-based games. Using a grid and a sequence of numbers, you fill in the grid to create pictures. I’ve had Luna Story installed on my phone for years and have been sporadically playing it, but I’ve recently dived into it again and am playing it before bed, on my lunch break and even when I wake up some mornings. The grid sizes range from beginner (5x5) to advanced (20 x 20) and uses super cute pixel art.

The other is called My Oasis, which is an idle clicker game where you progressively grow an island with animals. It’s got lots of positive little messages in it, like the abilities to buff your clicking being called virtues- like ‘compassion’, ‘selflessness’, etc. The animals I’ve chosen for my island are all favourites of the people I love- a fox for my little sister, a red panda for my husband, giraffe for my mum- even a racoon for myself. The animals can speak via bubbles with encouraging messages, and sing to you- you can sing back to them with a little keyboard at the bottom of the screen. Super cute, if a little clunky at times.

Tagged By: Thank you @why-raven for the tag! ♥

Tagging: @zenmai--jikake--no--komoriuta, @gatheredfates, @riftdancing, @ishgard, @this-is-ris, @thefreelanceangel and anyone else who wants to do this! ♥

[texas-writes]

Shifter

An illusion turns out to be the truth

*Leon’s daughter is about 6*

Leon’s shoulders tense as his daughter’s scream echoes down the hallway again.

“Don’t listen to that Leon, it’s just trying to trick you,” Chris whispers creeping just slightly ahead of Leon.

“I know that. Doesn’t make it any less unnerving though.”

“I know… I can’t imagine.”

The scream comes again, much longer this time before breaking down into hiccuping sobs.

“Daddy.. where are you? I'm scared.”

“I’m coming sweetheart, just be brave a little longer, okay?”

“Leon what the fuck is wrong with you,” Chris hisses, grabbing his arm and pulling him to a stop.

“We’re looking for the thing anyways, and it could look like anyone, besides if this keeps up I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“Just don’t make your funeral mine.”

“Dying’s not really an option for me, it’d upset my girls too much,” he states cockily, pushing further down the hallway.

“God, remind me to never get married, you’ve turned into such a loser.”

“Whatever, asshole.”

The end of the hallway opens up into a giant chamber, appearing to have once been part of an atrium. Moonlight streams down from above, and Leon’s phone begins to ring.

The construction of the chamber amplified every little sound, so the drilling sound of his ringtone was deafening. He’s about to ignore the call and send it to voicemail when he realizes it’s his wife.

He answers it cautiously, trying to stay alert to the possible danger around him.

“Leon,” she cries, oh she’s absolutely frantic. “You’re still in France, right?”

“Yes darling I’m still here. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been calling you for hours, I went to pick Emmy up from school and they told me you’d already gotten her.” He just hangs up and tucks his phone back into his pocket.

Oh god. That thing had taken his baby to get at him. Or maybe there was more than one. His mind was racing with so many different possibilities he couldn’t focus.

“Daddy,” the little girl cries, having heard her fathers voice.

“Where are you baby? Daddy’s here,” he calls, searching around frantically for his daughter.

“I’m over here daddy!”

“No, daddy I’m over here! The monster’s here somewhere.”

“Split off,” Chris whispers, heading towards one of the voices and gesturing Leon towards the other.

Leon finds her cowering between a stone coffin and it’s lid leaning against it.

“I’m here honey,” Leon whispers, reaching out a hand towards the little girl.

“Are you my real daddy,” she questions, just barely sticking her face out enough for him to see her bright blue eyes.

“I am, I promise, and if you show me where the monster is I can get rid of it and we can go home to mommy,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her and pointing his gun at her head, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling the trigger.

The body in his arms turns into a viscous sludge as the shape-shifter dies, returning to its true form.

“Chris, is she safe,” Leon calls, heading around a large pillar to where Chris and Emmy are hiding.

“Yeah, she’s alright,” he replies, unwrapping his arms from the little girl, letting her go to Leon. “How’d you know that it was the shape-shifter so quickly?”

Leon pulls his weeping daughter into his arms and squeezes her to his chest. “My little girls eyes are brown, like her mothers, not blue.”

“I see. Good thing you had to deal with it, not me, I’d have never been able to tell. Thing would have killed me.”

“We got Evac on the way?”

“Landing now,” Chris confirms, firing a flare through the once vaulted ceilings to let the helicopter know where they are.

By the time they load into the helicopter, Emmy’s already asleep clinging to Leon’s chest while he holds her tight to his body, his eyes wild and untrusting.

“Leon, it’s okay. You have her, she’s safe now.”

“This should have never happened. I need to cover my tracks better. I…need to call my wife,” he mumbles, reaching into his pocket, trying not to wake the child clinging to him.

“Leon. Leon, let me, you need to rest. You’ve been through a lot .”

Leon just weakly hands his phone across the aisle to Chris, who dials Leon’s wife.

When she answers she’s frantic, which made sense considering Leon had just hung up on her in the atrium. “Leon, what's going on? Is everything okay? Did you find Emmy?”

“Hey, Mrs. Kennedy, it’s Chris. Everything’s alright now. Emmy’s safe. We’re on our way home now.”

“Can I talk to Leon?”

“He’s not really… up to that right now. I think he’s in shock.”

“Oh. I see. I’ll see him when he gets home I guess.”

When Leon finally gets home he walks straight up the stairs, gently waking Emmy up and getting her ready for a bath.

“Leon is everything alright,” you question, coming up beside him, inspecting your daughter to make sure she’s not injured.

“Just… let me get her put to bed and then we can talk about it.”

You nod silently and go back into your shared room.

After a few minutes he comes into the bedroom, carrying a now clean, and very sleepy Emmy in his arms. He lays her down on the bed beside you and turns to riffle through a drawer for some clothes before disappearing back into the bathroom.

When he returns he himself is fresh and clean, all the scratches that were previously hidden by dirt were now visible as he slid into the bed, wrapping his arms around his daughter and his wife, squeezing them both tightly.

“It was pretending to be her. I tried not to look when I killed it, but it was so convincing, and even now I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if I was wrong. I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“But you weren’t, and you’re both here now, and that’s all that matters. How did you tell the difference?”

“Its eyes were blue. It’s terrifying that I did that based on such a small notion. I love you both so much. No matter what, I’ll do anything for you. I can’t lose you,” he whispers, his eyes glassy with tears as he looks at you.

“I know Leon. We’re alright. Everything’s okay now.”

“I hope that’s true,” he mumbles, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep.

[tealmoth]

also "darkfic au that got out of control" is such a funny description to me 😭 im curious as to why you think so personally i thought it was pretty balanced in heavy and lighthearted moments and considering the themes like the effects of imperialism i dont see why it wouldnt be handled as such. havent watched in a while tho idk

oooohh okay so this’ll be a fun thing to answer because i’ve been desperate to ramble about ‘03 plot points to anyone who will listen all week. so for me, honestly, the darkfic vibes come more from how deeply it dredges into the dark aspects, if that makes any sense?? most of what’s “dark” in ‘03 already exists and is explored in brotherhood, like the imperialism aspects as you mentioned, as well as grief and trauma and everything else that comes prepackaged with fma’s core story. but brotherhood handled these in a very shonen way (which is to be expected, of course). the darkness pushes the characters forward, makes them fight on. even when they’re at the brink, they’re called back by a loved one, or by their own convictions, and it retains an overall positive feel.

meanwhile in ‘03, i get the specific vibe that the writers looked at the story they already had, and asked themselves “how can this be worse??”

(inserting a read more because i’m about to go on a MASSIVE tangent, sorry.)

and so, here are some of the specific darker aspects that stood out the most to me:

the build-up to nina is given far more screentime and its place in the timeline is totally different. not only are the elrics so much younger here, but they’re also essentially a part of the tucker family for the better part of several months iirc. they also witness the direct aftermath of her death at the hands of scar (which is also implied to be FAR more gruesome here), whereas in brotherhood they find out from riza the morning after it happens.

there’s the whole barry ordeal which afaik doesn’t serve much purpose other than it, well, being kinda neat to see pre-armor barry. and i could totally be misremembering here and/or missing something important but the whole episode just stands out to me as “hey, i don’t think that ed’s had enough trauma yet. let’s sprinkle in some attempted murder.”

everything with the laboratory, holy shit. tucker’s reappearance, the attempts at recreating nina, the prisoners, everything with kimblee, the way ed almost activates the array, ALL OF IT is insane in this version.

al’s doubts about his memories and his origins is a longer arc and leads to more conflict with ed in this version.

mustang and winry’s parents. mustang’s suicide attempt. everything with mustang that’s not comic relief (which there’s still plenty of).

as stated in the tags of my first ‘03 post, the utilization of rose’s character is a really intense departure (while interesting!!) that completely took me aback.

the entirely different lore surrounding the homunculi is both incredibly fascinating and a lot to take in, and it leads to them being far more mentally vulnerable and tormented characters than they are in brotherhood. the contrast alone between the development greed gets in brotherhood (using him as an example since he effectively has the most character growth out of the homunculi there) and the development that lust, wrath, and sloth get in ‘03 stands out the most to me.

sloth in general. it’s a wildly fascinating take and, in addition to REALLY hammering in the themes surrounding their mother’s transmutation, also stands to provide even more trauma for the elrics.

and on that subject, the adults are far less present for the boys in this version. that’s not to say that they’re like “parents” or anything in brotherhood, but they’re a lot more openly concerned for them in a personal, affectionate way in that show. whereas here, especially in the early segments, i’m pretty sure that ed could have died in a ditch somewhere and they wouldn’t have noticed for at least a week.

scar’s characterization is more vulnerable here and both his death and the events leading up to it are insane.

and that’s not even getting into everything with dante, which deserves its own post.

with all that said, i’m also not even done with this show yet. i still have four eps left!!

but, all rambling aside, that’s what specifically gave me the darkfic sort of vibe. not to demean the show or reduce it to fanfic terms, or anything; it’s still very interesting and competent writing. but it just gives me so much whiplash when compared to brotherhood’s overarching feelings of hope and the ability to fight back and change the future for the better. it feels soul-nourishing to me, in a way. meanwhile, ‘03 is like a cavalcade of trauma, all provoked by the question “you know what’d be really fucked up??”

[everythingseasoning]

hello! i have questions for you i’m wondering about! you can answer them if your comfortable ^.^

what are your pronouns?

do you have a favorite drink?

pet peeves?

do you have any talents?

what song is on repeat now?

what got you into jjk?

are you in a relationship?

any allergies?

favorite color?

HELLO ! I LOVE QUESTIONS !!! (I’m very excitedly typing)

Pronouns - she/they! Lately one of my profs has been referring to me as “she” and … well … it doesn’t feel quite right, but for me personally I don’t care that much if people use she/her towards me. Sometimes I refer to myself as she and it’s totally good in the moment. Sometimes I don’t feel like a she. So she/they works!

Favorite Drink - I only really like water with my meals, or possibly green tea. I love sipping on sugary drinks when I crave that (i take very tiny sips and the drink lasts forever), but never ever do I drink anything like that with meals. I will also drink black tea with coffee creamer when I’m feeling like I need dopamine HAH. Drinking coffee or matcha unfortunately makes my body and brain feel wonky. I can’t focus and it’s like I’m in a state of numbing anxiety. Don’t like it. But l still, on occasion, will drink either.

Pet peeves - Mean people when existing near me. Narrow minded & judgmental people when existing near me. People who walk NEAR ME when they could walk further away, (I think I have a personal space need). People who reject others without engaging in discussion and critical thinking (a lesson for us all). When somebody isn’t emotionally intelligent and doesn’t try to be better. When somebody can’t break things down and explain a concept *and they’re a teacher* for fucks sake. When people don’t care about the wellbeing of kids and adolescents. When people don’t care about the wellbeing of another human regardless of age.

Talents - Yes, but the one I’m thinking about shall stay a secret because it’s not a very common skill and I don’t wanna give too much away. Other talents I can talk about… Well, many liberal arts teachers/professionals who meet me and get to know me more, say that I’d be a good psychologist. Oh. A talent I’ve had since I was little: understanding cats. HAHHA. (I was that weird kid who was lost in her own head when she was little, and I hissed at people)

Fav song atm - Strangely enough no song has been on repeat lately! That is unusual though. Try asking again another time, I’ll have an answer for ya

What Got Me Into JJK - Honestly, the hype around JJK is what led me to it AND kept me sticking around. I was seeking something to cure my depression (anime won’t do that, but it can certainly help but you also have to get consistent sunlight, socialization, feed your mind, body, soul, too), and I kept hearing about Jujutsu Kaisen. So I thought WOW this must be a really good one! The thing is that for me, with most anime it takes time for me to feel hyped about it… even with AOT, and AOT is goated… So for JJK, while I laughed A LOT in season 1, I also just felt underwhelmed. I did stick around though, because the fandom kept showing up on my timeline, and it was nice to feel like I was a part of something (seeing everybody simp over characters made me wonder what there was to this show that I was possibly missing out on), because at the time I really wasn’t doing well. It’s embarrassing to admit but it wasn’t until I started talking about it and listening to other people talk when I started seeing the nuance to JJK, and I began to appreciate it. (Don’t watch anime while half asleep and expect to walk away with an understanding of what’s going on…) I also really wanted to understand what others saw in JJK for them to hype it up so much.

Relationship? - No. Do I want romance? Yeah. Will I let myself be in a relationship anytime soon? Highly unlikely. I’ve got a lot of healing & growing to do before I can be a good partner.

allergies? - hurtful people who do stupid things and have zero interest in anyone but themselves (not to say I don’t pity them or have sympathy and empathy for them. I do. But I’m also allergic to them). Oddly enough, I was genuinely allergic to a certain leafy green as a kid. Outgrew that though! thank god haha

Favorite colour - I can’t choose! They each have their own beautiful feel to them. If I had to choose, I’d say green :) with yellow undertones, not blue undertones, though that’s also very pretty (if you’re an artist or take a basic art class with colour involved, ykwim).

Any more questions? Feel free to ask! Loved answering this :) Thank you so much for hopping into my inbox 🩷

[prairiesongserial]

23.13

The rabbi’s study hadn’t changed in eight years. The tower room was a hexagon with windows on three sides and bookcases on the other three. The rabbi’s desk took up most of the space, but there was also a little couch pressed against the wall under one of the windows. The boys piled onto it so they could peer down at the forest and the town below.

Cassidy’s gaze slid over the familiar spines on the rabbi’s bookshelves. They recognized a stack of books that Rabbi Alterman would “just be getting to” sitting in a haphazard pile on a chair, only now the chair’s legs had begun to bow under the weight.

Despite the clamor of all five of them entering his serene sanctorum, Rabbi Alterman still had not looked up from his book. There was a pencil balanced above his lip. Rabbi Alterman was eight years older, which came as a shock. He was overdue for a haircut–usual, for him–but instead of familiar salt-and-pepper curls, his hair had gone almost entirely white. It was hard to imagine this man energetically leading the first years in outdoor games.

“Rabbi,” Cassidy said, finally.

He looked up, blinking from behind large glasses. The pencil fell from his lip.

“Little Cassidy?” the rabbi asked. He stood up, disrupting a pile of books. Cassidy’s heart beat faster. “Your hair is orange?”

“That’s the first thing you have to say?” Cassidy said. “After eight years? I’ve returned, Rabbi, after eight years of wandering in the desert, but yes, my hair is orange.”

Rabbi Alterman blinked again, as if he couldn’t understand Cassidy’s complaint. The last time Cassidy had been in this room, it had been just after failing his final exams. Cassidy had always passed every floor on their first try, except the last one. They hadn't been able to bring themselves to give the answer the floor master was looking for.

The rabbi had blinked at them with the same strange combination of surprise and patience. Cassidy had ranted at him, pacing the rug, about scholars who locked themselves away in towers not knowing the first thing about right and wrong, and the rabbi had only nodded every so often to show he was listening.

“I noticed you’re still doing the trolley problem,” Cassidy continued. “Honestly–”

“Ah? Did you finally pass this year? Mazel, Cassidy.”

Cassidy was caught so fully off their guard that they fell silent. Rabbi Alterman stared back at them, then slowly smiled.

“Still so much energy. You look well.” The rabbi got up from his desk and walked around to Cassidy’s side. “I like the orange.”

Cassidy pulled a face. 

“Now,” Rabbi Alterman said, “you have brought me four strangers. I have heard a little about this from the floor masters, but I would like to hear it from you.”

Cassidy glanced behind them. John paced the short length of the study, looking tired and dirty, and with a knife stuck through his belt. Val looked a little better, though he stared distractedly out the window, Gawain’s bids for attention so far unheard. Percy had pulled himself away from the window. He resembled a little prince again, standing with shoulders square and hands behind his back.

Cassidy switched to English for the others’ benefit. They let Percy introduce himself, and prompted him to explain a few key points–such as, who were John and Val, and why were two English princes on the lam.

Rabbi Alterman stroked his beard. “I know of Hemisphere. A few years ago there was an attempt to unify the German states–unsuccessful. That name was bandied about. It didn't ever come to anything. So, England has thrown in with that lot…”

“If you can call a coup ‘throwing in,’” said Cassidy. Rabbi Alterman waved down their comment.

“And now you are here,” the rabbi said. His gaze rested heavily on Percy. “And you have something to ask me.”

Percy swallowed. “Well, we are in a good bit of danger.” He seemed to be actively resisting the urge to glance to Cassidy for help. “And we were hoping that you would hide us here. Cassidy gave us new names and everything.”

“Did they?” asked the rabbi. He narrowed his gaze at Cassidy. “Ah, Menashe and Ephraim. Yes, how like them.” Cassidy fought down a grin, not in the mood to be happy. “That does explain some whispering from the lower floors. I didn't think I had forgotten the existence of two students.”

Percy looked hopefully at the rabbi.

“Well, young man, you make a compelling case. It appears to be a matter of life or death,” said the rabbi. He heaved a sigh. “And so you understand why you cannot stay.”

Percy’s face fell.

“Rabbi?” Cassidy asked. “Rabbi, you can't be serious. It goes against Jewish law to turn them away. This kid tested out of every floor just to see you.” Cassidy raised their voice, switching to Yiddish. “It's the fucking trolley problem all over again. Are you serious? You won't let them stay because intervening might put blood on your hands? You can’t divert the train away from these two because you can’t foresee what lies on the other track? In that case, why do anything? Why adopt me? Didn't doing that take meat out of the mouths of wild dogs? Rabbi–”

“Wait, Cassidy, I can’t think,” said Percy. Cassidy just barely held their tongue. Percy’s face was screwed up in concentration, as if this were another test. Cassidy ground their teeth. They looked to John, who looked just as upset.

“I think I understand,” Percy said. “You actually will allow us to stay here, but you’re asking us to think for ourselves why we can’t.”

The rabbi smiled at Percy. “Go on,” he said.

“We might have been followed, I suppose,” Percy said. “In any case, we will be searched for. And eventually we might be found. When that happens, this town won’t survive, not if the Queen doesn't want it to. The German states don’t tend to rally when things like this happen; it’s each village for itself.”

The rabbi nodded for Percy to continue. He took off his glasses and started to clean them on his shirt.

“And…” Percy fumbled. “And, er… as former heads of state, it would be irresponsible to divert a disaster headed towards ourselves onto dozens of other children, not to mention all the woodsmen and farmers and artisans in town. The only responsible thing to do is to try to outrun the train, I suppose. Metaphorically.”

“Rabbi,” Cassidy said. “You can’t do this to them.”

“Not quite full marks,” the rabbi said, holding his hand up to Cassidy. “Percy, when you can save everyone, you must save everyone, yes? But that includes you and your brother. I have a friend in Switzerland who runs her own yeshiva in the mountains. It’s little known, and not easy to get to unless you know the way. I think she will be able to take you in at little risk to herself. And I have a few thoughts about disguising your trail; perhaps Cassidy will help me narrow them down?”

Rabbi Alterman directed his smile to Cassidy now. It was the sunny smile he liked to use when he’d taught one of his students something. Cassidy rolled their eyes, turning away so that the rabbi wouldn’t see.

Percy made a strangled sound of relief, then went to hug Gawain. John’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath; he looked less anxious at the price of looking more tired.

“I’ve always hated the trolley problem,” Rabbi Alterman said. “Everyone gets so serious.”

23.12 || epilogue 23

[avareiahgt]

GT July Prompts 2024

Day 5: Fawning

—Don’t mess with me, Connor, I did nothing— Hanna said pointing at me with a tiny finger I could barely see.

—I spent years of my life for Alec to tell me his whole family story and now he tells you after some weeks? Doll, you sure have an effect on him— I said, smirking.

We were both sitting on Alec’s couch, Hanna sitting down on the top of the back while I looked up at her form from my lying position.

—I didn’t push him or anything. I guess I just asked the right questions—she explained.

—Maybe if I were a small sweet pretty girl in a hurry, he would tell me as well… But, oh! Wait—I made a dramatic pause— I’ve always been a small sweet guy in a hurry, even today…

—Not small enough— she smirked down at me. In confidence she was kind of a teaser. Something told me she was not this salty with Alec. Otherwise, he would had thrown she away… would he?

—Not that my actual height gives me some advantage in life right now—I spilled, half joking, half serious.

—Trust me when I say you have it way better— she stated and a hand made its way to her leg, forever marked.

—It really amazed me that you survived that thing, tho—I started—. Your life was quite on the line, you know?

She made a soft sound, like showing she was listening but thinking at the same time.

—I’m so persistent— she simply said.

—I can see that— a soft but true laugh scaped my throat.

—What did you do to convince Alec to tell you his story? —curiosity was my favorite sin, also the most dangerous. I didn’t think long my response.

—I just followed him until he answered— I shrugged.

She lowered herself a bit to look down at me from her privileged seat.

—Really? That was your strategy? —she seemed surprised, not for long, anyways.

—Of course. I met his sister before, but I didn’t know they were siblings until he insulted me some day.

—What? He did insult you?

—Yeah, tons of times, but that was our first meeting. I have photographic memory; I could quote every single day of my life since I was six with no mistakes— I explained.

—Wow… that’s impressive and quite useful—she whistled in amazement.

—Also, I got to remember all the bad things I would love to forget— I commented.

—Sure… Nevermind, why did he insult you on first place? — she insisted and I appreciated avoiding the memory curse theme.

—I got tangled in some… hairy situations. All my fault of course. The thing is that Vecca, his sister, dismissed me and I found a grumpy teenager calling me an idiot, in addition to my unemployed state. Actually, he was right and Vecca was right to dismiss me, too.

—Do I wanna ask? — she wondered.

—You can— I submitted myself.

—I assure you don’t want to ask, just let him flatter you some more— Alec’s voice came from where he was standing on the corridor doorframe.

—Or we could keep talking about your bravery and the stubbornly that took you to live enough to have this chat— I said as if the idea was mine.

—You’re connecting fine, I’m back to work— he muttered and disappeared into his study once more.

—Excuse him, he’s not the chatty type.

—Really? He chats with me so well— Hanna said.

I got instantly offended.

—Why he doesn’t with me? I’m so sad now— I sat up and my fast move thew Hanna off balance even sitting. I held one of her arms to keep her from roll. My head was now some inches below her. I freed her arm when she was stable again and she touched it like it burned. Maybe I was being rude with so much physical contact.

—Maybe if you keep adoring me, I would give you some advices for talking to him, but I warn you it won’t be as effective as if you were a small pretty girl.

—I will sign the deal— I accepted, offering her a finger for a handshake.

She used a tiny hand I almost didn’t feel on my skin and shook it, sealing the verbal contract.

—Now, you can keep talking about how beautiful and well-behaved and strong I am—she smiled.

—Did I say all of that stuff?