#I can’t be upright for more than like. five minutes max

[vegetable-soup-wizard]

POTS flare ups are kinda funny why am I having to speed run like. Making toast

[writer-in-theory]

Meet Me At Skull Rock — steddie.

For: @skjachukson as a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: N/A

Tags: childhood best friends, love confessions, first love, friends to enemies to lovers, season 4, canon divergence

Summary:

One petal he loves me, one petal he does not.

When Steve finds out that his childhood best friend is accused of murder, old feelings resurface.

Read on Ao3

One petal he loves me, one petal he loves me not. 

Steve’s little fingers shook as they plucked away at the wildflower in his hand, willing it to leave behind one solitary petal just as it had for the girl in the movie he’d watched last weekend. The loose petals gathered on his lap and in the grass around him, one errant petal clinging to his left sock. 

“Whatcha doin’?” a familiar voice called loudly directly into his ear as the person practically leaped onto Steve’s back, sending him reeling forward in his attempt to remain upright where he sat. Eddie’s hands pulled at Steve’s shoulder so he could get a better look at what had taken his best friend’s attention, face scrunching up at the sight of the blue flower in his hands. “Why’s the flower look so sad?”

His eyes drifted to the small stack of petals sitting on Steve’s knee, torn at one edge from where Steve had plucked it from the center of the flower. “Why’re you hurtin’ the flower, Stevie?”

“I’m not hurting it,” Steve huffed, setting the flower down on the ground in front of him for safekeeping. He turned around in his spot in the dirt so he could face Eddie. “I’m doing magic on it.”

“Magic?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, eyes lighting up bright at the mention of the word. “Carol said flowers tell if the person you like like feels the same way.”

“What’s the flower saying now?” Eddie asked, leaning his head forward over Steve’s shoulder to get a closer look. 

“I dunno,” Steve said with a tiny shrug. Normally he wanted to share everything with his best friend, but even now he could feel himself wanting to tuck the flower closer to his chest as if to protect it from view. “Didn’t finish the magic. Do you think it really works?”

“You can’t lie about magic, Stevie,” Eddie said back, relaxing into a spot on the ground beside him. “That’s the rules, so it’s gotta really work. Same as how Skull Rock has to stay a secret hideout.”

“I guess.” Steve sat the flower down on the first rock to make up Skull Rock, ready to put it out of his mind until he could ask Carol more about the magic behind it all. “We should get back to your Uncle Wayne’s, it’s almost sundown.”

“Aww, c’mon, we can stay five more minutes,” Eddie protested, though was already standing up and brushing the dirt off of his jeans. “Maybe we can get Uncle Wayne to order us pizza.”

“Race you back!”

“Hey, wait up, no fair!”

As they ran off toward the treeline of the woods, a flower lay left behind among the rocks, three lone petals hanging onto the center.

“He just disapp—Are you even listening, Steve? This is important!”

It had been years since Steve let himself feel anything for Eddie Munson. It was easier to pretend that the other man didn’t exist than to remember all of the fun they’d had as kids, or the night that his father had firmly and resolutely demanded an end to their friendship. For years Eddie Munson was nothing more than the outcast of Hawkins High who had at one time been Steve’s very best friend, back when his shoulders weren’t yet weighed down by the family name and the expectation of popularity. Even when the nerd pack had started to talk about him, it was easier for Steve to pretend that he didn’t know Eddie at all. 

In truth, maybe he really didn’t know Eddie, at least not now. Because Dustin and Max were there to find him and Steve didn’t have a single clue where to start looking. At one time in their lives, Steve would have been the person Eddie came to if the entire town was looking for him, but now Steve couldn’t name a single place Eddie considered safe. They had no leads except the vague mention of a dealer Eddie had once worked with.

When had they drifted so far apart that even the local dealer knew Eddie better than Steve did?

“Are you really sure Munson would go there? I mean, any guy named Reefer Rick can’t be that trustworthy,” Steve spoke up once Dustin called him out. 

“No one would check there,” Robin pointed out, already grabbing the keys to the Family Video doors. “It’s the perfect place for an accused murderer to hide.”

“He didn’t murder anyone!”

“I didn’t say he did, mini-dingus, I said he was accused of doing it. I can’t see Eddie Munson actually killing anyone.”

“No, I can’t either,” Steve sighed, following the kids as they rushed out to his car. At one time, he would have yelled at them for even daring to get near the thing, but one bad breakup and a half dozen demodogs later and it was weirder to see the car without them arguing in the backseat. “Calm down, Henderson, we’ll find him.”

Steve’s hands were tight on the steering wheel the entire ride to the lakehouse, mind racing as fast as his heartbeat despite all of his attempts to calm himself down. This was it, the inevitable meeting that he’d done his best to avoid for years. Eddie Munson needed him now and there was no hiding from it, not when the kid in the backseat of his car would be devastated by Steve doing anything but help.

Steve couldn’t say the broken bottle to his neck wasn’t deserved, given everything that had happened between him and the man holding it. He could see the fear in Eddie’s eyes that said everything—he was expecting Steve to turn him in or join the manhunt. Only a few years ago and he might’ve (though even the thought alone sent a shiver down the back of Steve’s neck), but somehow Eddie’s biggest fan had worked his way into Steve’s life and that meant that he had no choice but to stand there now ready to hear the real story about what had happened to Chrissy Cunningham in the Munson trailer.

It hurt to see Eddie so afraid, as if the man knew that the rest of the town wouldn’t accept him staying alive after the loss of their star cheerleader. Even after Robin, Dustin, and Max were able to talk him off of the ledge there was an edge of the same feral terror. It was the kind of fear that Steve knew would never completely fade even if they were able to solve this situation—the same that Steve had felt when facing down the demodogs with nothing but a baseball bat a few years earlier. Sometimes, in the middle of the night when the loneliness hit Steve full force, he’d wish that he and Eddie had more in common. He never would have wished it if the universe meant this.

“Steve should stay behind while we check out the trailer,” Robin suggested. “You know, in case anyone else finds this place before we can get back.”

“Huh?” Steve asked, finally tearing his eyes away from Eddie to face the group. “No way, Eddie can handle himself.”

“I hate to say I agree with Harrington, but Eddie can protect himself,” Eddie said. 

“The whole basketball team is out there looking for you, Eddie!” Dustin practically shouted, “you can’t fight off all of them. Steve’s good at this, trust us.”

Already Steve could feel the finality in this decision, but still he had to try to dissuade them from leaving him alone with Eddie. “I’m the only one here with a car. How do you think you’re getting over there?”

“We’re resourceful. The mini-dingus will figure it out for us,” Robin said.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve was left in the boat shed of the lake house with nothing but a baseball bat of nails and the one person he dreaded being alone with. They both sat on the ground against opposite walls of the shed, each clearly trying to avoid the inevitable conversation. Maybe Steve could last this entire time without having to face Eddie, even if it meant this uncomfortably stifling silence continued. 

“So the great Steve Harrington really is a hero,” Eddie spoke to break the silence first. “I didn’t believe Henderson when he told me.”

“I wouldn’t say hero.”

“I don’t know, the way the kids tell it you saved their lives with all your supreme righteousness.”

A sigh slipped from Steve at the bitterness that ran through Eddie’s words. He couldn’t even blame him after what had happened between them, after everything Steve had done.

“Look, man, it’s gonna be a long day if we can’t work together. We can just…pretend we didn’t know each other until today, or something.”

“You’re really great at pretending, aren’t you, Harrington?”

Steve winced, knowing deep down that he deserved the venom in Eddie’s words. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Eddie must have seen something in Steve’s face though, because he suddenly seemed to deflate. His features softened as he finally made eye contact with Steve for the first time since holding a broken bottle to his neck. “We covered interdimensional creatures and weird girls with magic powers…anything else I should know about?”

“The little nerds are great at getting themselves into trouble. Especially Henderson, you really have to watch out for him.”

“Yeah, I’m noticing that,” Eddie laughed. “What kid comes running after a guy accused of murder?”

“A kid who basically worships you. All year it’s been nothing but ‘Eddie this’ and ‘Eddie that’. It gets annoying hearing how great you are all the time,” Steve said with a laugh, hoping Eddie understood his lighthearted intentions.

“Tell me about it. I had to hear about how amazing you are every day. He said it so much he almost had me believing it.”

“Wow, that’s wild coming from you.”

“Is it?” Eddie asked. “I used to be that guy too, telling anyone who’d listen all about you.”

“Feels like forever ago,” Steve admitted. “Anything that happened before I knew about the Upside Down feels like a dream.”

“Damn. That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea. I keep thinking I’ve seen everything and somehow it keeps surprising me.”

“Even more of a reason to get out of Hawkins as soon as I can,” Eddie returned.

The silence that fell over them was less tense then, something a little closer to comfortable. 

Steve had missed talking to Eddie, even though he’d never admit it aloud to anyone. Even Robin didn’t know that they used to be friends, that he used to-

Well, that was all history anyway.

It was just when Steve started to get comfortable that voices began to sound from outside the shed. A few of them, all sounding angry and one of them that he was sure belonged to Jason Carver. Carver had been an asshole even when Steve had still been on the team, but he never once thought the guy would start an actual manhunt for someone in town. It was all too much, everything a terrible byproduct of the Upside Down refusing to leave the town of Hawkins alone.

“We have to get out of here,” Steve whispered, climbing to his feet and looking for a quick exit.

“What happened to protecting me with that?” Eddie asked in the same hushed tone, gesturing to the bat held tightly in Steve’s hands.

“I don’t want to use it if I don’t have too,” Steve answered. “Have any ideas how to get out of here?”

“The boat,” Eddie said, pulling the sheet off of it. “They can’t follow us across the lake.”

It was a decent enough idea, so Steve followed Eddie’s lead into the boat. They tried to row out of the shed as quietly as possible, if only to solidify their lead ahead of Carver and his friends before they noticed where Steve and Eddie had gone. 

Steve really thought it would work, too, until one of Carver’s friends pointed to where they were in the middle of Lover’s Lake. 

“Row faster!” Eddie screamed as the guys took off after them, having no qualms about swimming in the freezing lake in the middle of March. 

“I’m doing the best I can!” Steve shouted back, though sped up his movements until his upper arms burned. “Grab the bat!”

“What? I’m not gonna actually murder someone, Steven!”

“You will if it means not letting them murder us first!” Steve said, too stressed to feel triumphant when Eddie actually picked up the bat.

It all happened too fast for Steve to really process what happened. They got lucky most times they dealt with the Upside Down; no kids had actually gotten seriously hurt until the night Billy Hargrove was killed by the Mind Flayer. Steve had hoped that he’d never have to watch someone get killed in such a brutal way ever again, but then again the universe seemed to love proving Steve wrong time and time again. 

Patrick McKinney had been a good guy, his only fault really being that he subscribed to whatever Jason Carver said was true. He didn’t deserve to go out in such a horrific way. Every crack of his bones made Steve’s chest tighten even more as a wave of nausea built at the thought of Patrick and Chrissy suffering so much at the hands of the Upside Down. They didn’t deserve this, no one did.

He and Eddie were silent the rest of the way to shore, the only sound being that of the oars pulling through the water. 

How many more people have to get hurt before they can put an end to the Upside Down? More than once Steve had wondered if the government was wrong in choosing to keep this a secret from people. Shouldn’t the people of Hawkins deserve to know about the threat to their lives? Maybe it could have prevented this, or at least kept people from assuming Eddie was behind it all. 

One thing was certain: no one would believe that Eddie didn’t do this, after seeing Patrick’s death. 

“Hey, are you coming?” Eddie asked, the words sounding more distant than they should. “Steve, are you okay?”

That shook Steve out of it enough to notice that Eddie was already out of the boat and a few steps toward the tree-line. He looked…worried for Steve.

“I’m fine,” Steve said quickly, getting out of the boat and taking off after Eddie. “Just don’t get used to seeing that.”

“It’s what happened to Chrissy,” Eddie spoke, falling back to walk beside Steve. The moon was only a sliver, leaving them to fumble through the woods. Steve didn’t know where Eddie was leading them, but he was fine to allow someone else to take the lead for once. “One second she was fine, then she was…on the ceiling. I tried to help her but she wouldn’t wake up.”

“There was no way you could’ve stopped it,” Steve told him, though knew if Eddie was anything like him that he’d feel guilty about it for years after. “I don’t know why this is happening, but I do know we have a pretty good track record at stopping the Upside Down. We’ll figure this out and clear your name while we’re at it.”

“Since when is Steve Harrington such an optimist?”

“Since you told me to be,” Steve said before he could think about it. 

The memory was one that still sat in the front of his mind, easily reachable whenever he felt particularly down on his situation in life. They’d been kids then, still in elementary school. Eddie had just moved to Hawkins, though, to move in with his uncle after what happened to his parents. 

‘My momma said when I’m sad to always remember the sun will rise again.’

“Where are we going anyway?” Steve asked, mostly to distract himself from the fond memory. Even now, so far away from it, the thought of having lost that friendship caused an ache in his chest. 

“Skull Rock,” Eddie said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “You remember it, right?”

That bitterness threatened to come back like a sharp knife in Steve’s throat. 

‘Skull Rock can be our secret hideout! We gotta swear to never tell anyone about it, Stevie. Pinkie swear!’

“Eddie, I didn’t mean t-“

“You didn’t mean to start taking all of your conquests to my favorite place to get away? Or you didn’t mean to completely ditch your friend and pretend I didn’t exist?”

Now wasn’t the time, and yet with Skull Rock in view Steve knew there was never going to be another time like this. They were alone for the first time in years and vulnerable enough after what had happened on the lake to let everything out.

“You don’t get it,” Steve tried, though that seemed to only make the situation worse.

“You’re right, I don’t get it. I don’t get how you became such a royal dick so goddamn fast. King fucking Steve suddenly remembered to be embarrassed that he was friends with the devil worshipper, huh?” Eddie was yelling now, no care for the fact that the entire town would be looking for him now, after the loss of a second teenager in his presence.

And Steve, well Steve was going to let him do it. Eddie had a nightmarish day and if yelling at him made it better, then dammit Steve could take whatever Eddie had to say to him.

“I was never embarrassed of you,” Steve said, feeling the urgency building in him to correct the mistake. “I didn’t want to stop talking to you.”

“Then what, Steve? What fucking happened? Why are you even here now?” Eddie continued to yell, his movements becoming more frantic as he began pacing in front of Skull Rock. “Don’t tell me you’re here because of Henderson. You don’t risk your entire fucking life for a friend, and you definitely don’t do it for someone you left behind. Just go, alright? I’ll tell Henderson you did a great job as my knight in shining armor, ‘kay?”

”Eddie-“

”You disappeared, Steve. You left and found people who were better for your precious reputation.”

It was like something snapped in Steve. He could feel the band around his chest release, letting everything that he’d shoved down years ago come back up to the surface.

“It wasn’t my choice, Eddie! And I don’t want to see you die for this!” Steve shouted back, stunning Eddie in place. “Is that what you wanna hear? Or that maybe I brought all those girls to Skull Rock hoping I’d have an excuse to talk to you? You don’t get it, Eddie. I’m a Harrington. My dad had expectations for me, and it wasn’t until I almost failed out of high school that he realized I’d never meet them! What else was I supposed to do when he found out th-“

Silence. Steve could feel the pressure of it all around him, making it harder to breathe. It felt like he’d just gone on a run, his chest heaving with the effort to take in one breath after the other. 

“When he found out what, Steve?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“What did your asshole dad find out about?” Eddie wasn’t going to drop this, not after Steve let the entire secret loose.

There was no escaping from this.

Steve sighed, finding a small crack in the rocks to focus on instead of Eddie.

“I thought everyone felt that way. I was just a kid, I said it so simply because I didn’t understand that not everyone would be nice about it. My dad…even then I knew he was an asshole, but I didn’t know he could be so mad.”

“What happened, Steve?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it.”

“I have to know.” Eddie’s voice was softer now, like he could already tell what was coming.

Steve’s hands shook where they rested at his sides. He felt like his heart might beat right out of his chest at any moment, which might be a more preferable end than whatever Eddie would do when he found out.

“D’you remember that day when I started pulling off all those flower petals?”

“Yeah, you started doing it all the time. I assumed it was for Carol.”

“Carol Perkins? God no, we’re just friends,” Steve laughed, trying to ignore the hurt as his brain corrected himself to were friends. “No I…I was wishing you felt the same way, okay?”

Eddie didn’t answer. Steve stood still, staring at the rock as he braced himself for what was going to happen. But even more time passed and Eddie still wasn’t answering him.

“You gotta say something, Eddie. Anything.” Steve hated pleading with the man, but all of his nerves felt frayed and raw as he stood there in front of his old best friend, the guy he had a crush on for too long.

“What the fuck, Harrington,” Eddie said with a heavy exhale. He didn’t sound angry though, more so in shock.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t choose t-“

“No, no, my turn to talk,” Eddie cut him off quickly. “This whole time, this whole time, King Steve Harrington has not only been gay but liked me?”

“Please don’t tell anyone. They wouldn’t g-“

“Is that why you’re suddenly friends with Buckley?”

The talk in the Starcourt bathroom was life-changing for both of them, when Robin admitted that she loved a girl in their class. It was the first time that Steve had felt like someone really understood him, that it would be okay someday, when he finally got out of Hawkins.

“How did you know?”

“We can spot each other from a mile away. I never saw you comin’, though, Steve Harrington.”

“Why do you keep saying my name like that?” Steve had imagined telling someone a thousand times over. He’d imagined telling Eddie even more than that. Each time, though, he’d never imagined a reaction like this. He had no idea what to make of it, had no clear insight into what Eddie was thinking.

“Because I’ve spent the last decade trying to tell myself I was batshit for falling for Steve Harrington, but here you are telling me this whole time you’ve felt the same somehow.” Eddie was smiling now, his voice shaking a little from the shock still lingering in him.

And that-

“You what?”

“You’re really that surprised, Harrington? Everyone at Hawkins High had some kind of feelings for you,” Eddie returned simply.

The next breath Steve took wavered as much as his hands still did, unsure of what to do next. Steve had taken many people here, and yet standing there with Eddie he suddenly forgot everything he’d once learned about being with someone romantically.

How was this possible?

“You know, this is really the worst time to find out you like me,” Steve said with a laugh. “What with the murder accusations and the supernatural…whatever the hell it is.”

“Hey, you’re the one who picked now to confess your undying love for me,” Eddie laughed back, lighter than Steve had seen him since all of this began.

“I don’t think I said it like that.”

“How about this, Harrington. You figure out a way to get me out of all this, and we’ll ride off into the sunset together.”

Steve had tried to picture his future dozens of times, each time coming up more unsure than the last. Now, though, with everything off his chest and the knowledge that Eddie feel the same way for him, he knew there was something to look forward to. 

So he stepped forward, daring himself to be braver than he’d ever been before. The kiss was quick and feather-light, but there all the same. Steve grinned at the look of pure shock and wonder on Eddie’s face when he stepped back. “You have yourself a deal, Munson.”

“Okay, we clearly missed something here.” When Steve turned, he saw Max, Dustin, and Robin standing there in front of them. Robin was grinning mischievously, like she already knew how she would pry the details out of Steve. “We said protect him, Steve, not woo him.”

[featherlight-whispers]

What living outside of your natural sleep-wake cycle feels like: a (long) DSPD symptom list for writers

Note: This list is based on my experiences as someone who’s been living (almost) constantly outside of my natural sleep hours. For reference, my sleep-wake cycle is from 7.00-8.00 to 16.00-17.00 and I’ve been sleeping from 00.00-01.00 to 05.00-06.00 for the past two years. This isn’t intended to be a diagnosis checklist, just my personal experience as someone with DSPD. This is for authors who want to write characters with this disorder or people who want to know more about this topic. Full detailed list below the cut.

Dry eyes. When I wake up, I feel as if I’ve been staring at a computer screen with the brightness to the max in a dim room for 14 hours. This feeling usually goes away within 2 to 3 hours of waking up. Eye drops help with this.

Alternating bursts of energy and sudden sleepiness. I’ll elaborate more on the sleepiness, but the excessive daytime sleepiness isn’t linear nor consistent. I can be nodding off one hour and being perfectly awake the next.

Sudden sleepiness. I wake up groggy every day, but there are some where I get energy quite soon. However, that doesn’t mean I’m going to be energetic all day long. I usually nod off when I’m doing something passive like writing something down from a board or listening to someone talk for a very long time without being able to make it into a conversation (for example, being in a lecture).  I know when I’m going to fall asleep. I’ll start feeling heavier and notice my focus getting worse and worse until I nod off for what feels like a few seconds, wake up for a minute or two and then fall asleep again. It’s a very light sleep, so if I get called my name I usually wake up, and some people can fall asleep sitting up (like me), so the situation goes like this: I’m paying attention in class, and within some minutes of noticing the tiredness get worse I’ll be dozing intermittently, sitting upright. Getting up and walking around can help with preventing the sleep, but as soon as I sit down it happens again. Now, this is a pretty extreme case. It started happening when I was 16 (symptoms worsen during adolescence), but before that it was a tolerable tiredness. The fact that I could lay my head down in class and sleep probably helped too.

Melatonin pills will make everything worse. I’ve had melatonin and natural sleep-inducing herb-based pills prescribed. Neither work. They make you fall asleep fast, yes, but the sleep quality is even worse than usual and I fall asleep during daytime more easily than without them

Shit sleep quality. For as long as I can remember, I have never woken up refreshed and fully rested. Sure, there are days when I wake up fine even if I don’t sleep in my natural hours, but they’re extremely rare. I usually wake up more tired than when I went to sleep the previous night.

You get more awake as the day goes on. In my case, the sudden sleepiness stops abruptly after 18.00, and the closer I get to my bedtime, the more awake I am.

Sometimes you want to take a nap and you can’t. When I wake up later in the day (12.00 and after), sometimes I want to take a nap because I’m still tired at 15.00, but because I don’t have that extreme tiredness of waking up at five/six it can be hard to actually fall asleep, no matter how tired I am.

Less patience and more sensitivity to light and noise. The worse you sleep, the less patience you have. It’s only natural. Now, I’m not sure if the second part is because of my sensory issues, but if you’re going to write a character with DSPD who isn’t autistic/ADHD/doesn’t have sensory issues, you may want to be careful including this, but I have noticed that I’m more sensitive to light and noise when I’ve slept worse than usual, sometimes to the point of headaches and a strong urge to bawl my eyes out.

The amount of time you sleep means absolutely nothing. The reason why I sleep five to six hours is because it’s as good as my sleep will get. If I sleep, say, three hours, my memory and focus would be seriously affected, but I could sleep eight or ten hours and, as long as I wake up when I’m not meant to, I will have the same symptoms. As I’ve said before, it’s also hard to fall asleep early, no matter how tired I am.

Waking up is a nightmare and you have a lot of pent-up frustration. The first part is pretty self-explanatory, but the second one is due to a myriad of reasons: I want to sleep well, why can’t I? Why have I been dealt such a shitty luck? You also want others to understand you, but, besides the dismissive and ableist people, no one truly realizes how exhausting it is to live like this.

You realize how many parts of life are dictated by sleep-wake cycles. People who are/have diurnal lifestyles have things way easier than people with nocturnal lives. Not only is everything closed at the wee hours of the night, besides emergency services, bars and clubs, but socialization is near impossible. All your friends in your time zone are asleep for most of your waking hours, and even people in other time zones go to sleep before you. There are some advantages to this, such as being paid more for doing the same thing as your coworkers during the night shift, but this is not the case always. Some industries do not have night shifts (obviously).

You get a lot of time for yourself. The good part of being awake while everyone else is asleep is that you can do anything (within reason) and the chances of being walked on/being seen are pretty low.

And finally...

You switch to your natural sleep cycle incredibly fast. I can go from waking up at six to going to sleep at eight in two days. It almost feels like getting out of an uncomfortable, stuffy suit and changing into your favorite pyjamas. It’s more comfortable and you feel better all-around.

There’s not a lot of research on DSPD, it’s not diagnosed often and people with this disorder often have other comorbid disorders, such as ADHD. There’s a high number of people with DSPD who have depression as well, but the causal relationship between them isn’t known yet.

I hope this post is of help with your characters and it was informative. My DMs and asks are open, please be nice and don’t even think about giving me “tips” to “improve my sleep” (istg I have heard the term sleep hygiene so many times im sick of it) unless it comes from someone with DSPD.

[psychoticwillgraham]

would love to get some mobility aides but my problem is my upper back/shoulders/neck hurting extra fucking bad and idk if there’s anything for that, specifically my neck. also canes don’t work for me bc my legs shake so bad that it feels like my ankles are about to snap, and this is only after a minute or so of standing up. i rlly need a scooter or rollator or something like that, bc I need to sit down. the only things I have rn are grandma’s wheelchair and her rollator (it’s a real nice one too), but I refuse to use them bc they were hers and it just feels…. Weird for me to use them. but I’m constantly broke so these are my only options.

i mean, im pretty sure that grandma wouldn’t mind if I had to use her stuff, bc they’re both just sitting there gathering dust and she was the kindest person who would’ve given the shirt off her back to someone in need, so I think she’d like for me to use them bc I rlly need them and she’d like that bc it’s saving money.

still can’t bring myself to do it, but now with the influx of tourists who make the coffee shop standing room only with at least 30-40 ppl at a time crowding the space of the coffee pickup section, I can’t stand longer than five minutes max now. and everyone sits on the ONE bench in the back and I can never get it. at this point I don’t even care if ppl stare or confront me. the baristas see that I struggle to stand up now and they know I’m getting worse (hell now my feet are randomly giving out while walking and I’ve nearly fallen about five times in public now). hell, I was walking Chloe this morning and my right foot spasmed and had a stabbing pain and I had to grab onto the side of the house to keep myself upright. it happened THREE MORE times on the walk and luckily she was ready to go in after that.

shits steadily getting worse, but I’ve had to put it on the back burner bc her heart issues are far more important. I’ll eventually (probably by December or January) have to start using a wheelchair most likely, but I’d rather suffer than let mom die. good news tho: no more seizures!!

[thatonecurlygirl]

When Realities Blur [Chapter 3]

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: a little Eddie x reader, a little Steve x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Note: Running with a little bit of a slow burn into a love triangle, but WILL soon settle on a guy. Who do you want to see Y/N end up with?

It’s like someone flipped a switch. You went from being surrounded by cold, pitch black, nothingness to being surrounded by the warm glow of the dim boathouse light and five people standing over your body. You jolt upright with a loud gasp, eyes watering and heart pounding so hard you can nearly feel it rattling your ribs.

“Are you okay?” Dustin asks, eyes wide.

“What the hell was that?” Eddie asks, you can see the confusion and worry painted all over his face.

“How long was I out?” You question, heart relate returning to normal.

“Less than a minute?” Robin’s statement coming out more like a question.

“It felt like hours, I had so much time to just… think.” You stand up quickly. “What was I saying right before I passed out?” You look between your friends… and Eddie.

“You said that in your world, I played with Metallica after I… and then you were out.” Eddie explains.

“Earlier you went to tell me something and and you started screaming and forgot what you were going to say. Which is weird and you scared the hell out of us.” Max adds.

“Right, I have a theory that I need to test out.” You quickly sit back down, “Okay, so I know pretty much everything that is going to happen and that has happened so far.”

You look around the group to make sure they are all listening and understanding what you are saying. You scoot closer to the group, lowering your voice as you think through every single word that leaves your lips.

“So we talked about the butterfly effect and that the small changes I am making right now can completely screw with the future.” You pause, gathering your thoughts into coherent sentences. “Earlier at Family Video, I told you guys about what happened, but when I told you where to find Eddie, I got a little hint of a migraine which was full fledge excruciating pain when I tried to tell Max a future event. Then when I go to tell Eddie a future event I pass out.”

“You’re losing me a little bit.” Steve admits.

“Okay. Whatever force brought me here is desperate for the timeline to continue as planned. Despite the small changes that I am making just by being here, it’s almost like… every time I, granted unintentionally, try to derail the timeline it snaps back into place. Though if I attempt to give away future events that would completely change everything this… force stops me. Forget the butterfly effect, it won’t apply because I physically am unable to make a big enough change.” You explain the very best you can.

“What does that mean for us?” Max asks.

“It means things are going to get a whole lot worse and I cannot stop it.” You say defeated. “I have to let things play out how they are meant to. I can’t protect you.”

“Protect us?” Robin speaks up, her voice thick with concern. “Does it get that bad?”

“Worse than you can imagine.” You swallow down the vomit that threatens to make it’s way up your esophagus.

Everyone goes silent and contemplative as you stand and pace the room. The sound of crickets chirping emanates from the outside into the boat house which suddenly begins to feel stuffy and cramped. Frustration spills from you as you push your way out of the door and to a path leading to the dark wooded area.

How? How are you going to be pulled into a reality that you are only familiar with on the other side of a television screen? How are you here with no memories of a past here, but with all the feelings and emotions that tether you not only to this place but the people here? How are you supposed to be here, in Hawkins, with a knowledge of what is to come for not only your friends, but this universe and not do something to help, to change the outcome?

“There has to be a way.” You tap your foot while staring up at the sky.

“Y/N!” Max calls out through the darkness as she approaches you. “What are you thinking about?”

“I was brought here for some reason. There has to be some purpose for my existence in this reality at this exact moment.” You sigh, “Am I just here to be a spectator or to change things?”

“What do you think?” She asks, leaning against a tree.

“I think that this some sick joke the universe is playing on me. The thing is, I wouldn’t be getting these warnings if there wasn’t a way to change things, even if it’s a last… a last-ditch effort.” You chuckle. “I think I’ve figured it out.”

“A way to save us? To save me?” She asks, quietly and when you struggle to find something you can say she continues. “If you know everything that’s happening, I assume you know about the headaches and the nightmares.”

“I do.” You nod.

“It has something to do with whatever is happening, doesn’t it?” She takes your silence as a yes and runs her hands across her face, glancing back at the building behind her. “You’re not going to tell them are you?”

“I wouldn’t even if I could, it’s not my business to tell.” You take a step closer to her, holding out your arms, “Hug?”

A small smile breaks across her face. She steps into your arms, you can feel her tense hard exterior melt. Max needed this, she would never admit it to anyone, but you can tell by the hold on tighter and for longer than you expected. Max hadn’t let anyone this close to her since the night the Billy died and the weight of her guilt from hating him hangs heavily on her shoulders.

“Y/N, Max, let’s head out. We can come back tomorrow.” Steve says as he and Robin exit the boat house.

You can feel Max tense up, her arms stiffening. “Max, you wanna have a sleepover at my house tonight?”

“Seriously?”

“Heck yeah!” You start walking the short distance to your car. “Come on and hop in, I’m gonna check on Eddie real quick.” You grab the bag of goodies you were able to pick up from the gas station for Eddie.

“You good?” Steve calls out from his car, Robin and Dustin both hitting comfortable in their seats.

“Yeah, you can go ahead. I’m just gonna give this to Eddie.” You motion to the bag you are holding as you walk backward down to the boathouse.

“I’ll wait here for you, just in case.”

“If you insist. I’ll just be a minute.”

You turn around and quickly make your way to the door of the boathouse, giving it a gentle knock before cautiously entering. Eddie stands on the other side of the room, messing with something inside the boat. He takes a step back and leans against the wall.

“Trying to make this thing a little more comfortable.” He shrugs. “Whatcha got?”

“Oh,” You raise your hand, making your way across the room to him. “I grabbed you some snacks, it’s not a lot but it’s something.”

His eyes widen as he takes the bag of goodies from your hand, “Yes, this is great, thank you.” He pulls a bag of chips out of the bag.

“I know this is all crazy and you barely know me, but we are here to help you.” You glance at the uncomfortable looking make-shift bed Eddie has made in the boat.

“Yeah, it’s a little weird that instead of running away from Eddie ‘the Freak’, you’re running to help him.” Eddie chuckles.

“I never ran away from you…did I?” You ask, horrified at the idea.

“No,” He smiles, “more like a mutual avoidance.”

“Mutual avoidance?”

“Yeah, I’m the freak and you’re the pretty, goody-two-shoes. No reason for us to even cross paths.”

“I wish we would have. Goodnight, Eddie.” You smile before turning to the door. “You really think I’m pretty?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“Hell yeah, who doesn’t?” He softly smiles back at you.

“Night, Eddie.”

“Night, Y/L/N.”

You exit the boathouse, gently closing the door behind you and waving at Steve to ensure him that you are okay, but his eyes never leave you as a questioning look crosses his face. You leave the path your are taking and head straight over to Steve.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You giggle.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asks, straight to the point.

“I don’t know,” You shrug, smile getting bigger. “Eddie said I’m pretty.”

“Right,” He rolls his eyes. “Such a ladies man.”

“Oh,” Your smile turns to a smirk. “Jealousy may look good on you Steve, but I think your soft side is sexy.” You wink, patting him on the chest before turning and walking back to your car.

“What the fuck?” Dustin say from the backseat.

“Language.” Steve quietly scolds Dustin.

“Pick me and Max up from my house tomorrow.” You call out as you slide into your car, watching a Steve still stands there stunned.

“Did you break Steve?” Max asks.

“Maybe.” You laugh and drive off, watching Reefer Rick’s get smaller and smaller from the rear view mirror.

—————————————

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[raichijin]

⋆͛♡⋆͛ the hangover; mirio edition.  ❥ a one-shot.

━━━━━ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. (tba)

preface; writing this was honestly so painful. a testatment to why i should never 1.) do collabs ever 2.) write long things. i am drained.

word count; 5k words.

starring; mirio, mina, shinsou, denki, unnamed boyfriend.

summary; after your boyfriend forgets about your anniversary, you spend some time with friends to forgive and forget about what happened. then it gets worse.

warnings; reader gets called some nasty names towards the end of the fic. watch out for that.

you were supposed to be spending this weekend with your boyfriend. at a resort, poolside, on vacation, or on a beach, or where ever he’d fancy peeling off the nice (read: expensive) swimsuit he’d gotten you for your five year anniversary.

he was kind, is kind, but not as committed to your relationship as he was to his job. not even a call as the clock struck midnight, almost an hour past your reservation, but a text the morning after with a short apology, and the sudden announcement that he’d be working late. again. you didn’t cry. wouldn’t, because shedding tears would cause a mess and a headache, and self-doubt is what’s tucking you in at night, telling you that maybe for tonight, tomorrow and the day after your feelings don’t matter.

cause his job is the one keeping you afloat. (your interest in the arts is cute, to him; like a hobby. nothing you could stay afloat with. it’s too risky, he insists, so to you, it became nothing. to others? it became offhand remarks at his high-end office parties. a joke to your in-laws. a breathed sigh of relief from your parents.) so more time is what’s best for the both of you.

that has to be it.

your friends figure out something might be wrong when you go ghost for days, bordering on a week.

you mention how it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re by yourself as you are, but they don’t buy it. say you need to loosen up, take a vacation of your own even when you say you don’t need it because you’re not working, give you sharp glares whenever you object. you don’t know why you thought you had a choice in the matter — especially when mina’s sugar mommy gives her enough money to afford 2 full suites at one of the most expensive hotels in the area.

denki also tags along, just cause, and brings his boyfriend; shinsou, with him.

if they know what’s going on, they never mention it. 

and it’s a little easier to cope that way.

you dip your toes, ease yourself into the night, before you’re being pulled into the deep end and your mind’s been left at the door, but your body is having a field day.

you should’ve blacked out two margaritas ago.

you think you did.

you’re too drunk to recall all of the rash decisions you made, or whether or not you maxed your credit card, but you’ve must’ve gotten separated from your friends somewhere along the way, because when you wake up, you are distinctly not in your bed, not in a tastefully decorated room, not in a hotel.

and mina, shinsou, denki? unless they’re in the adjacent room, they’re not here with you either. you’re still in your clothes from last night. your shirt is missing a button and you don’t have your shoes on, but beyond that, you’re perfectly fine.

a scraggly bed head lies next to you, who is, notably, more nude than you are.

he has no shirt. no shoes. no pants. his blonde hair is unruly and you’re so shocked you actually start to wake up. your eyes widen and you’re sitting up so fast you’re a bit dizzy from the sudden motion.

the room is spinning and you feel sick, the headache behind your eyes making you want to grind your molars into dust. and just as quickly as you sat up, you lay back down; shaking the bed with the force. the guy next to you isn’t as heavy of a sleeper as you hoped, though. he blinks open tired eyes, showing you the most exquisite navy blue, and the little bit of drool dripping down his chin might’ve been cute if he wasn’t a complete stranger.

though you can’t stave off the creeping anxiety, the silence as he comes to his senses doesn’t feel wrong, and you’re more confused than scared.

he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, and gives you a criminally bright smile, and though his voice is wrecked when he says “...g’morning, sunshine.”, you doubt yours sounds much better. 

the nickname makes you feel fuzzy, if only for a second.

“i, uh … good morning?” you sound awkward, but the guy manages to find humor in your predicament when he chuckles gently, sitting up without so much as a second thought. you can see more of his body when he does so, and when his hand comes up to ruffle his hair, you can catch the glint of a silver band, resting on his ring finger. 

then everything clicks into place.

did you cheat? was he cheating?

all of the things you’d been beating yourself up over settle thick over top like smoke clouds and a raging fire. you feel like you’re suffocating, and don’t realize you’re freaking out until a strong hand is wrapping around yours, which, in your panic, you squeeze.

you spot a matching ring on your hand, that you know for a fact wasn’t there before,

and you think that’s when you pass out.

you wake up (again) to a room with tacky but charming decor, the smell of breakfast, and considerably less of a headache than what you started with. now more lucid, with the strength in your body to walk and think, your first priority is finding your phone. you tap your pockets, check the bedside drawer and tables, under your pillow, in the cracks of the bed, under the bed.

no cigar. you’re digging through miscellaneous memorabilia, trinkets and clothes that aren’t yours for at least a minute before the guy you were laid up in bed with comes back to just to see you picking through the corners of his bedroom, banana in hand.

he stands in the doorway and clears his throat. he has clothes on this time, pants. “you’re awake? are you feeling any better?”

you startle, straighten your back and stand upright, your arms falling to your sides. “um, kind of. i — have you seen my phone?”

he shakes his head, offers you the banana. “you should have this though! it’ll fix that hangover, i think.”

“i … thanks.” standing and eating a banana in someone else’s bedroom is certainly … a time.

“i made some breakfast,” he says when you’re halfway finished, “if you want some.” he ends with a smile, and you feel those 3 shots of serotonin go straight to your brain.

granted, you shouldn’t be that happy.

he takes the lead and turns around, leading you down a narrow hallway into a quaint kitchenette with a lovely beach view and all the good summer vibes condensed into a single, small room. it makes your heart hurt even more when you realize you have someone home, someone expecting you to come back.

to a hollow apartment, a cold bed, a lukewarm welcome.

you have to force your brain to be quiet to even hear a fraction of what blondie is saying.

“alcohol basically just dehydrates you. the potassium stops that, gets you all your minerals and stuff back. i heard it works with beer, so i was thinking it works for other stuff too!” he sounds so chipper that it brings your mood up just to hear his voice.

so bold and sure, warm and kind.

“but if it doesn’t clear up in 30 minutes, i have some advil i can give you! don’t want you having a headache all day now.” he’s sitting you down at his small table and sliding some pancakes in front of you, some orange juice. eating feels like a chore, but you know you have to, or that you should try at least.

while you push around your food, blondie chatters away, and even if you just met, he has you entranced by the way he speaks. smooth like the butter on his toast as his stories flow effortlessly into one another, how easily he can chat you up is amazing; getting you from gentle chuckles to full blown belly laughter before you can get your first bite in.

there’s lulls in the conversation if you count the moments he takes to actually eat, but he keeps you on your toes with his personal anecdotes, and questions about yourself, forcing you out of your shell, little by little.

the thought of your boyfriend pushed back into the depths of your mind.

until you broach the topic of your friends.

you learn quickly that he’s a good listener, completely silent unless prompted, asking questions or making jokes only when you’re finished speaking. when he asks, you tell him about the ones that got you here, shinsou, denki and mina.

his eyes flash momentarily, a look of recognition, or maybe understanding, passing over him. he hums gently, head swaying as he does so.

“they’re a little rough around the edges but they’re like family, you know?”

“i get what you mean. they were very nice when i met them. especially at our wedding!” he sips his coffee.

“i — are you alright? you’re choking!” that you are. the guilt you felt when you first woke up and the rising panic ram into your gut like a freight train, and suddenly, you don’t want to eat anymore.

"what do you mean we're married?" you rub small circles into your forehead as this idyllic morning goes right back to being cruel hell. 

"yesterday, at the chapel," he twists his wedding ring with warm familiarity that makes your stomach churn. "i can't really believe it myself, like maybe we were meant to be? i know the universe works in strange ways like that."

you're sorry to burst his bubble, but you save the happily ever afters for fairy tales, not real life.

you pinch your forehead and heave an exasperated sigh.

"i have a boyfriend." you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to seek lost comfort. "and we don't know each other to begin with. can't even remember your name, i was so drunk."

you cradle your face in your palms, feel his stare bore into the top of your head.

"togata." you perk up.

“what?”

“my name. it’s togata. mirio togata.” 

“oh.” you rub your cheeks, pull them back with the heels of your palms.

“that’s a nice name.” an uncomfortable silence washes over you both before someone speaks up. mirio.

“so what do you want to do?”

you answer a little bit too fast in response. “i don’t know. i … i should call my friends. i still need to find my phone—” you stand up, ignore the onslaught of nausea, and look around the kitchen.

“help me look? and then … and then we can figure out all the other details later.” mirio carries both your plates to the sink, and busies himself with dishes for a brief moment, allowing you to find the bathroom nook and reorient yourself. you fix yourself up a bit, straighten out your shirt and fix your hair up. no time to take a shower.

you cup a hand in front of your mouth, breathe and sniff. eugh. 

“hey, uh, togata; got an extra toothbrush?” his heart might’ve lept when you called him by his given name.

“um! yeah!” rushing water obscures his voice a bit, but if he shouts he’s loud enough to hear. “check under the sink? i should have some there.”

“thanks.”

you rummage around in his cabinets, and in that time he’s managed to clean up the leftover food and put a shirt on. 

your phone having gotten lost or being stolen becomes more of a possibility the longer you think about it. you doubt you came back to his house to do anything but sleep. how many places could you have dropped it? you come out of the bathroom to mirio sitting back at the kitchenette table, holding his phone in his hand.

“hey togata … do you think you can call me?”

“i mean, sure, but i don’t know if i have your number...”

your anxiety makes you a bit snippy even when you don’t mean to be rude, but you can apologize when you get your phone back.  ”just give it to me then. i’ll do it.”

it rings a few times before someone picks up, which is a step up from going to voicemail, and the situation goes from okay to great when the croaky voice of shinsou answers, worn out and tired, but awake enough to make a greeting.

he says you’re not here to pick up the phone right now, you interrupt and say that this is you, and that you just borrowed togata’s phone to figure out where yours was.

“togata? who?” 

“my, my um. husband.” gingerly said, you can see mirio tense up in the corner of your eye.

“oh,” someone’s snickering away from the mic. denki probably. you can’t help but roll your eyes. “mirio?” you’re upset that he can remember his name but you couldn’t. “how is he?” you shoot mirio a look, he gives you a thumbs up.

“good. so, uh, where are you guys?”

two hours away. they’re two hours away by car and mirio’s pickup truck is exactly what you’d expect from him. it’s big, beat up, it’s blue, and it’s his pride and joy, even if it’s slow to start up. if anything, it feels a bit humbling to hear the low hum of the buzzing engine. brings you back down to reality, out of the lap of luxury.

reminds you of the way mirio laughs with his whole chest. that gentle, rumbling purr.

you’re sinking into the crunchy leather seat with a groan, then a laugh from togata; to which you swat at him. you give him the address so he can set it up with his gps, and get going. he messes it up a bit and then it’s your turn to laugh, much to his displeasure. he blushes from the embarrassment, and you pat his shoulder, still chuckling. it feels natural. waking up together. having breakfast together. unofficial road trip to meet back up with your friends because you got blackout drunk and are 100 miles away.

oh, right. you sigh softly and mirio looks over, thinking to comfort you by turning on the radio, greeted by soft pop and slow guitars.

the silence carries.

fifteen minutes into the drive, he thinks to ask about your boyfriend.

“what’s he like?” togata drums his fingers on the wheel with an air of anxiety almost, though you can’t imagine why he would be — unless he thinks you won’t react well to his question. you don’t mind however, and sate his curiosity without as much as a glance.

“oh, he’s nice,” your statement lacks the enthusiasm you’d expect when someone talks about their significant other. it seems sincere, yet exhausted.

“buys me whatever i want, when i want it, loves his job to death, and … we were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary this week.” dejection is visible in the way you slouch your shoulders, interest waning. mirio can’t help but exercise a little concern, filling in the gaps while he’s at it..

“and you couldn’t, because you came here?” you shake your head.

“what? no. i came here because he was too busy, and my friends thought i could still have some fun on my own. his job is important to him.”

“and your relationship isn’t?” your eyes narrow, glaring at him from the passenger's seat.

“the fuck’s that supposed to mean mirio?” 

“well, an anniversary is supposed to be more important than some job— don’t you think he should just take a day off? it wouldn’t hurt.” you lean against the car door, shoulder propping your head up as you peer out the window.

“i mean, i guess. but he’s keeping us afloat, so i can’t really complain.” togata’s eyebrows shoot up.

his tone is incredulous. “what, you don’t work?”

seeing you cringe away out of the corner of his eye is what makes him back track almost immediately.

“i’m so sorry! i’m — wow, that was completely out of line,” your embarrassment lessens when he apologizes, and you inhale sharply. 

“don’t worry. it’s, it’s fine.” you can’t help the way your fingers dig into the flesh of your arm, gnawing the inside of your cheeks, afraid of getting laughed at. mirio wouldn’t laugh at you, would he? 

“i, i used to make music. i was in a band in highschool, actually.” though mirio’s forced to keep his eyes on the road lest you two crash, you can see the way his smile reaches his ears, the silent ‘wow’ of awe making your cheeks heat up. high brow company doesn’t have much use for your talents unless it’s the violin, or something else that fits their lame-ass agenda. your bass chills in the back of your closet, a relic of the past, but a neat decoration.

you shake your head, too caught up in your own train of thought that you didn’t realize togata was speaking.

“i’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“oh! i was just curious, i asked if you sing?” you snort, then full on laugh, though mirio doesn’t seem to get the joke.

“oh, hell no. i don’t have the voice for it, nor the patience to do vocal training. i just played bass! thought it was easier than guitar because it only had 4 strings. i was wrong. maybe i could … show you sometime? i mean, it’s been a while, but i think i remember a few songs: have you heard of seven nation army?”

you talk with mirio about music at length, and learn that he’s a pretty big enthusiast himself and while he’s never played an instrument, he’s been interested in learning guitar. he brings up your band, and the memories of your senior year come flooding back; mina and denki convincing you to audition, your stage fright, recruitment later in spite of it. 

mirio can see the stars in your eyes when you speak, speaking so animatedly with clear adoration at the topic at hand, and he starts getting a creeping suspicion that back where you’re from, you don’t get to talk about this as nearly as much as you like. he realizes in the same breath that he doesn’t mind indulging you. he participates enough so you don’t feel like you’re chatting his ear off, but quiet enough to hear you fill in the empty space.

the way your hands move as you tell stories is adorable and so is your enthusiasm, he could hear you ramble for hours and never get bored. and he nearly does, it’s been an hour and you’re still talking — but then you take a breath, and apologize for no good reason.

he squints at you, confused.

“what’re you apologizing for?”

“i’ve been talking waaaaay too much. i’ve barely heard a word out of you for the last thirty minutes!”

“i thought you were having fun! i know i liked listening. besides, it looks like that you don’t get to talk enough about the stuff you enjoy. i’m willing to listen, so talk all you want!” the assumption makes you furrow your brow, and you hate that you feel like he’s right. 

your boyfriend either talks about his job, your friends, his parents, or nothing at all. no interest in music. no time for it. your friends enjoy reminiscing on occasion, but you don’t speak enough to them to get all nostalgic.

it’s … nice that he takes your feelings into consideration. you smile to yourself, saying nothing in response.

“we’re getting closer to the hotel — it’s 30 minutes away now.” it gets quiet again, before all the sounds you hear are the other cards and the slow hum of low volume music you’d forgotten about, coming from the radio. you turn towards the window to take in the scenery while mirio catches glimpses of you in his periphery, surprised at how adorable you look, doing even the most mundane of things.

mirio couldn’t remember much from the night before, well, can’t remember anything that wasn’t you. you weren’t completely out of it when you met him, but he could’ve misjudged, considering he wasn’t quite in his right mind either. didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so bold, but everything about you was so charming. 

from something as simple as your smile to how easily you chatted him up, despite his tendency to be a tad overbearing, you would take him and his attitude in stride. running around town, dipping in and out of nightclubs with your friends close behind, getting kicked out of said clubs, dancing and laughing together in another—

he huffs, pouting to himself. your boyfriend was so damn lucky.

he steps on the gas and starts going a little faster. you don’t seem to mind.

the rest of the trip was silence, and it wasn’t until he parked and stepped out of the car and said something.

“wow.” he whistles, low and long, until you pinch his arm to stop from attract the stares of passerby. “you guys could afford this? gosh. that’s like, three of my paychecks, maybe.” you chortled as he helped you out, quick to clear up any confusion.

“not me,” you walked in the lobby with him, going straight to the elevators after checking in with the front desk. “i could barely afford it! mina’s … uhm, girlfriend, paid for a room for all of us.” he arches a brow at the emphasis on girlfriend, but if he has any objections, he holds his peace.

“mmh. wonder what it’s like to be rich.” 

you laugh as you’re carried up a few floors, specifically to the more expensive suites, at least 12 floors up. “me too dude! mina is lucky.”

you’re barely knocking on the room door before denki is throwing it open and screeching, ushering you both in. they remember mirio from last night, which is upsetting, considering they don’t remember anything else: not how you got to mirio’s house, not how they got back home. not how they found your phone in the bathroom either, apparently.

“speaking of bathrooms, i’m gonna take a shower. keep mirio company, i guess." 

you have to look through your luggage for a change of clothes, and find your phone on your bed in your room, charging and you don’t think about going through it until after you’re clean.

coming back to nearly forty notifications from your boyfriend wasn’t on the agenda, and quite frankly, might’ve been a sign. some were calls but most were all lower case texts, each more foreboding than the last. holding your towel up with one hand, you scroll through your messages with the other.

 what the fuck is wrong with you?

 who the hell is this guy?

beneath it, a video of you and togata. your pupils dilate, and a deeply rooted sense of dread clutches your heart. it looks like a screen recording off of denki’s instagram account, of you two dancing. not overtly scandalous, but too close for comfort.

have you been cheating on me? 

for how long

how desperate are you? i say i have a business trip and you take it as an excuse to slut it up somewhere else?

you’re fucking pathetic.

heart slowly sinking, threatening to beat out of your chest, you can’t find it in you to scroll through the rest. you barely have pants on before you’re calling him up, frenzied and feeling out of breath. the phone barely rings twice before you’re going to voicemail and hearing the beeping tone. 

fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

you hang up, and try again.

this time, he picks up on the first dial tone.

“baby?” you nearly yell into the microphone, while the other end remains silent.

“what is it.” his voice is hollow, not even asking a question; rather making a statement. you choke on your words, are quiet for a few seconds at most before he’s barking at you. “i don’t have all day. i’m busy.”

“t-that video. it wasn’t, it wasn’t anything—” something slams in the background that makes you flinch, and he takes it as a good opportunity to cut you off.

“so the wedding wasn’t shit either? the way he was holding you, looking at you like that, like some lovesick fucking puppy?”

“w-what? what’re you talking about honey? it’s nothing like that—”

“don’t get fucking cute with me. i’ve seen the photos. that girl mina doesn’t know how to not publicize your life.” you feel like dying. 

“i knew i should’ve never settled for you.”

“you don’t mean that—”

“shut the fuck up.” there’s more shuffling on his end, a deep sigh. you’re too shaken to speak. “i wasted so much on you. gave you a house, a home, just for you to repay the favor by being a two-bit whore, sit on your ass all day and complain, and waste my time with those stupid fucking hobbies of yours.” what’s more terrifying is that his voice doesn’t wane or waver. he means it.

“... honey, please. please just let me explain!” you hadn’t even noticed the tears until you’re wiping them off your cheeks, your sniffling getting louder until you’re full on sobbing.

“there’s nothing left to explain. get your shit out by tuesday. we’re done.”

the line goes dead after that.

you don’t realize how much time has passed since you went to go shower initially, only that it’s been a while, considering how urgently mina starts knocking on the door.

“baby, are you alright? you’ve been in there for half an hour!” you can’t find it in you to respond. all it results in is choking on your own words, coughing and sobbing and tears and this fucking headache.

you don’t want to be seen.

mina announces that she’s coming in, and conversation behind the door quiets down until you can’t hear it anymore. just your own thoughts. she opens it and finds you in the corner, your knees to your chest while you’re just barely dressed, hair soaking wet. crying feebly until she rushes over and asks what happened.

you show her your phone. the texts.

she wraps her arm around your back and helps you up. hands you a towel so you can finish drying yourself off, and picks out some clothes for you to wear. when she turns around, she’s greeted by the concerned faces of your friends. mirio.

her face morphs from a look of concern to pure rage.

“what the fuck!?” she all but snatches your phone away from you, to which you pull your hands back and cradle you legs again. “who the fuck does this asshole think he is?” she looks down at you just then, and sees the red in your eyes, the tear tracks that stain your cheeks and a few drops dripping off your chin. you need your help more than you need her rage and half hearted insults. 

“you yelled.” shinsou states plainly. “is everything alright?” mina approaches them and ushers everyone out, closing the door, presumably to give you some privacy.

you dress slowly, the few minutes feeling like an eternity before you’re reaching for the door handle, clean and feeling like shit, for different reasons other than a hangover.

when you emerge from your room, mirio gives you a hug.

a hug that you melt into. one that you weren’t expecting but squeeze him back just as hard, tears that didn’t quite make it out seeping into the spot where you press into his shirt. his arms are comforting and strong, rubbing and patting your back gently, until the room is silent beyond your heartbeat and your sniffles, your friends milling about in the background.

“he said i have to move out.” your fingers dig into togata’s shirt. “pack up all my stuff and leave but i don’t know where i’m supposed to go—”

there’s a smaller hand patting your back when mina speaks up.

“d-don’t worry.” you can feel her hugging you too, a special warmth blooming in your chest. 

“we’ll figure something out.”

while you’re leaving the hotel, mina makes a call to her girlfriend camie to explain the situation, and by the time you’re back in mirio’s pick up, she said that camie offered to rent you an apartment in her name. the earliest she can get it was by monday, so she offered to let you spend the night for a couple days as well. denki says that he and shinsou could help you with things around the house: shopping, redecorating, etc.

togata is the one who offers to help you get your stuff. you arrange the date for monday, actually exchange phone numbers, and meet up at 8.

it makes sense; his car has enough space in the back, you don’t have much of your own stuff, but you nearly regret accepting the offer in the first place. something about moving out with your … husband in tow doesn’t sit well with you. almost seems like it’s too soon. 

but mirio’s charming enough to make the whole ordeal seem less like a fever dream. you’re beaming at him by the time you’re all done, laughing and smiling and so infectiously happy. by the time you both wind down you’re out of breath, wheezing in the front seats of the car.

he smiles fondly at you.

you can feel your cheeks heat as you return the sentiment.

then both of you are back on the road. the musics louder this time, and you get to show him how shitty you sing; which he insists isn’t so bad after all. it’s after twenty minutes of this that you’re suddenly struck by the irony of it all. 

“i can’t believe our first date with you was me moving out of my exes apartment.” mirio chokes on his spit, cheeks bleeding red as he does a double take, eyes flitting from the road, back to you, back to the road.

“wait.”

“that was our date?”

𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ;  @mitsusuri​ @okayshin​ @tamasoft

[bittybattybunny]

Please lemme read Cafe Latte!

Order up!!!

Alright so here’s what I had written for this before I dropped the project to focus on TLC and then swapped to the Mermaid Plot instead for Hattie’s parents

I also included the Synop I originally wrote when it was gonna be posted on Ao3 if I finished it

    So A Time Traveler, her older inter-dimensional Demon brother, and a lawyer walk into a Cafe---

Arulius Law was a tired law student trying his best to manage school work and his Controlling girlfriend Vanessa. His life changed when a girl's dog ran into him in the park! Meeting that same girl again when walking home, he got dragged through a time rift and the two are trying to fix the matter together!

“Damnit, Damion! HEEL!” The young woman shouted as she ran after the great dane.

    The poor young man who sat below the tree looked up a moment too late as he was barreled into by the slobbering pooch. He coughed as the dog placed its tongue all over him, covering him in drool. He wiped his face as the dog was abruptly pulled off of him by the very angry looking girl.

    “Bad Dog!” She chided, clicking the chain around his neck, “Honestly I shift hands for five seconds to answer my phone and you book it!” she sighed, holding a hand to the young man while tightly holding the dog’s leash in the other, “Sorry About that Sir.”

    He took her hand, standing upright and dusting off. She blinked in shock as he stood above her, not having expected him to be so tall.

    “It’s fine. He spoke in a deep voice, unbefitting of his thin frame, “I chose a bad spot to study!” he laughed it off, cackling.

    She began to laugh with him, placing her hand on her hip, “Still, I should have had a better grip on him. Sorry about it.”

    “No one but the bacteria on my face got hurt, so I don’t see any need to apologize.” he cracked his back stretching, “I needed to get up for class anyway.” he checked his watch, “I have a lecture in about 20 minutes. Perfect time to get a coffee.” 

    “How About I treat you?” She offered, “Since he did take your kisses.” She snickered a bit. She brushed a loose strand of black hair behind her ear. 

    He thought about it for a moment. Vanessa wouldn’t mind, right? It was just a coffee as an apology? 

He sighed, “yeah sure.” he grinned, “Anything for bean water.”

“Rad.” She smiled, sharp teeth peeking when she did, “Lead the way!” She laughed.

He grabbed his backpack from the grass, shoving his open books into it and began to walk towards the west of the park, “There’s a nice cafe this way owned by a lovely screaming couple. Dead bird Cafe.” he explained as they walked, “one of the owners is this older gentleman who’s always screaming, but he makes the best dark roast ever.” he grinned.

“Dead bird Cafe,” she repeated thinking about it. She snickered, “So that’s how it is.” She giggled brushing her thick hair behind her ear only to have it bush back. She groaned, “I need a haircut.”

“I feel you on that.” He laughed loudly, brushing his own back, “My girlfriend likes my hair long though so I leave it.” he sighed, “Long curly hair on a legal defendant doesn’t look good. I feel I look so unkempt.”

“If you want unkempt try having these cowlicks!” she chuckled as she ran a finger through the shorter parts of her hair, “At least yours looks on length! I can’t get mine to grow more than a weird mullet!” She sighed heavily, the dog she was walking barking his two cents. The two laughed as they made it to the western disco cafe. 

She paused outside, trying to withhold a laugh, “What is this decor?!” She was holding her stomach as she laughed, bright blue eyes watering.

“Yes it…. It is a little. Different.” he admitted opening the door, “Let me see if your dog can come in.” He headed inside, “Conrad?” he asked as he walked in, “DJ?” 

“Aye if it ain't the bean pole! What canne aye getcha today?” the golden-haired man asked as he was wiping out a cup. He sat behind the counter, looking out the door. The young woman was busy talking on her phone, seeming visibly upset over something. “Who’s the lassie? You finally cut it off with Vanessa?”

He shook his head, “No, NO! Perish the thought Conrad!” he chuckled, “Her dog tackled me in the park, she offered to pay for my coffee as an apology, but we can’t just tie a great dane who got loose once outside. I couldn’t recall if you’re pet friendly.”

He frowned, “Well technically we’re nawt. But we only opened a lil bit ago so no one is here yet, so.” He shrugged, “As the owner I say fine.” He laughed, “You can go tell her, Arulius.”

“Thanks!” he waved heading to the door, “He said it’s okay.” He tilted his head as she was frowning, creasing her brow heavily, “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” She blinked, snapping back, “Oh yeah I’m fine! My brother was just being really annoying!” she admitted, “Apparently he found something I have to go look at when he gets out of class.” She dropped her shoulders defeated, “Today was MEANT to be a relaxing day.”

“I get you.” he patted the top of her head. His eyes lit up surprised, “Your hair is very soft!” He stated. He had it to be coarser.

She turned a bit red, “O-Oi!” She pushed past through the coffee shop door, “It’s because I just dyed it! The conditioner makes it softer!” she flushed bright red, “G-Get your bean water!” She pointed to the menu looking it over.

He followed her back inside with a very loud laugh. She jolted as he cackled, her grip tightening on the dog. Her eyes were wide as she thought about it and covered her face, “Ah. So. you.” she was mumbling and he couldn’t figure her last words.

“Hrm?” he tilted his head, “Conrad I’d like my usual please, extra-large.” He ordered.

“Aye Figured.” the old man laughed, the sound similar bird cawing, “An’ for ya lassie?”

“Oh, Um.” she was scrutinizing the board, “I.. Actually don’t know.” she admitted, “I don’t drink coffee so I don’t know what’s good. I don’t like Bitter.”

“What about a cafe latte then?” Arulius offered, “it has a lot of milk and creamer in it so it’s sweeter than a normal coffee.”

“Is that so..” she mused as she tugged on the dogs lead, “Okay!” she smiled. He hadn’t imagined it earlier. He couldn’t help noticing her canines were very oversized.

“So a Death Macchiato and a Cafe Latte.” The older gentleman hopped off his bar stool. He barely stood taller than the counter. 

“Don’t!” Arulius warned seeing her eyes go wide. He stood in front of her to whisper, “Do not laugh! He’ll put SALT in your drink!”

She was doing her best to not laugh, “I won’t, I won’t!” her voice cracked as she whispered. She covered her mouth in her hands.

“You are doing a bad job!” he snickered at her.

“I Know!” she wheezed and leaned against his back, “I wasn’t prepared! Ahh.” she sighed, taking a deep breath, “I’m cool, it’s cool!” she grinned widely showing off those odd teeth, “See It’s cool!”

“Well if ye are cool the coffee is hot.” The man put the two cups on the counter, steam rising off of them, “Drink up, it’ll be 12.50 pons lassie!”

“Oh good, it is still pons.” She sighed relieved as she pulled out her wallet and paid for the drinks. She took hers and handed off the other, “Cheers.” she smirked. She patted the dog’s head. 

They tapped their cups together, taking a  sip as they exited the establishment. Yup that was a Death Macchiato. He sighed happily intaking the illegal amount of pure espresso and a hint of cream with a sigh of relief, “Ah I live.”

“Do you?” she asked with a cheeky grin. She sipped on her own, “I don’t hate it. But coffee is still too bitter.”

“You think so?” he asked as they walked towards the campus. He froze, “Are you going here too?” he asked worriedly.

“No, I’m just meeting my brother.” She admitted, “He works here.” she shrugged, “he won’t get out for a bit, so I was just going to finish walking Damion and return him to his owner.”

“Oh, it’s not your dog?” He blinked at her, he was sure it was.

“Nope! I just walk him for his owner.” She gave another shrug, “I have to earn money somehow and it’s hard when you didn’t finish High School and have no trade skills.”

“Why not get your GED or something?” he pondered as they headed towards the history building, “are you following me the whole way?”

“Why not?” she asked with a sly grin, “Actually, I just don’t..” she paused thinking about the next choice of words, “don’t have time for it.”

“But you can dog walk, and escort a student to class?” he raised a brow.

“One day off does not make for a full set of classes.” she pointed out, “And I’m not worried, I mostly do this because I enjoy it.”

Standing on the building's edge she gave him a small bow, “have a good time in class, Arulius!” She grinned, turning heel and running off in her bright blue sneakers, the dog keeping pace as they vanished before he could respond.

He sighed waving and headed inside, setting his books down he froze. 

He never told her his name.

-----

“Good work today class!” the teacher clapped his hands together, he wheeled around the classroom, picking up the students papers. “Remember Thursday is a test day! Time waits for no one, so please make sure to study!” he laughed as he rolled up to Arulius’s desk, “As for you, I know you are trying to succeed, but please when I say 6-10 pages, I only mean 10 max.” he  grabbed the hefty stack from the desk, “Also when will you start typing your reports, Mr. law?”

“When Vanessa gives my laptop back?” he shrugged, rubbing his neck. “Sorry, I just really like writing them out.”

The grey-haired man sighed, tapping the other’s head with the stack, “use the computer lab next time.” the other students filed out of the classroom.

Arulius packed his bag up, pulling his phone out he sighed at all the texts Vanessa had left him. Typing back he shrugged the straps over his shoulder. He started his walk home with a disgruntled sigh. He couldn’t get a single day without her freaking out. What did he have to tell her to make her believe he wasn’t doing anything suspicious. He literally went to class, home, and the cafe. 

He blinked as he watched the girl from that morning scoot by him into the classroom. He almost hadn’t noticed but she smelt heavily of pine as she cut by him.

“Sena!” She shouted as she headed inside with a wide grin, “Ready?” She asked as she stood on the back of his wheelchair, leaning over him.

“Oh more than. I’m getting sore.” he admitted with a laugh, “I know this was your day off but Tim said it was a pretty bad one. Friend was even worried.”

“Yeah. yeah.” she sighed and ruffled her hair. She turned towards the door giving the young man a wave, “Hi Again!”

“Oh. Uh right hi!” he waved back sheepishly as he turned to leave, having felt his face turn red. He couldn’t believe he got caught staring. He sighed looking back. So that was her brother. Weird. He didn’t recall his teacher ever mentioning any family. But then again it was his teacher. He felt his phone go off again. He started to run home with a heavy sigh.

-----

“So. Is it a violet, blue, red, green?” She asked as she closed the classroom door. She looked at her brother with a tilted head.

“Hold on. Let me just.” he pushed up on the wheelchair, his legs dissolving in an almost pixelated fashion as his skin turned light blue. His face rearranging into a more alien state, his head changing shape. He shook his head as he finished shifting and floating around her, “I love teaching but holding a human form gets so tiring. Plus the whole I don’t actually have legs thing.” he grumbled floating around her. He snapped his fingers so his chair folded up vanishing in a mass of red threads.

“Feeling better now you can stretch a little?” She chuckled as she raised her hand to reach into the air. It shimmered as her hand vanished, reappearing holding an hourglass.

“Oh much better. Also what was with you and Mr. Law?” he raised his brow curiously as he took the hourglass from her.

“Oh, Arulius?” She sighed, “The dog I was walking this morning jumped him.” She admitted, “I treated him to coffee as a sorry. You know. He reminded me a lot of that one shadow demon we met years ago.”

“You think so?” He tilted his head this time, clearly a family trait.

“His laughter.” she admitted with a big grin, “Also I totally found that old Firespirit! He runs a coffee shop! A far cry from a studio!”

“Well, that does happen when you jump dimensions as often as we do. Somethings get mixed around.” he shrugged as he flipped the glass, red threads around it as he did. “Though I highly doubt that Mr. Law is the Snatcher…” he frowned, “Actually, no. You may be right.” he sighed, “well let’s hope he meets a better fate here.”

“You going to steal his corpse?” She teased as she reached out a blue flame covering the red threads.

“You steal a prince’s body once and you never live it down!” he wheezed. “Almost got it!” he held his hands up, “Alright! I think we’re good for a jump!”

“Onward!” She grinned as she took the hourglass back and flipped it around, the air shifting as things began to rewind, the two of them standing still as folks moved around them as if in a movie.

“How far back?” She asked as she held the glass steady.

“About a day and OH!” he stopped her, the rift shimmering as they paused the world around them by turning the glass on its side. “There it is!” He pointed towards a shimmering crimson toned orb that floated above the students in the classroom.

“Oh booo. I hate red rifts.” She huffed as she got up on a desk reaching out.

“Wait Eclipse!” Sena shouted but it was too late, her foot brushed Arulius’s face as he sat at his desk righting. He blinked looking around confused. The trio was pulled into the orb with a fizzing noise. The world resumed without them.

----

“Uh...Uhh..” Arulius looked around as they stood on the ceiling in a rocky temple.

Eclipse was holding her head ashamed while he looked around. He winced as he felt blood from his nose, leaking down his face towards his mouth despite the way they stood.

“How do I explain this to Tim?!” she fretted as she held her head in her hands, “Sena! What do we do?!” she gasped.

The demon was looking around, inspecting the stonework, “Nothing can be done right now. We need to locate what caused this rift, be it a timepiece or something else. Since it’s a red one, that means there could be an escaped horizon lurker.”

“Sena! I think this is a little more pressing! Oh no.” She saw his nose bleeding and reached to wipe it, “Damnit.” she groaned, “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m just.” He was trying to figure what was going on. His head was pounding and his stomach lurched, “urp.” he covered his mouth with his hands as he paled trying to keep his lunch down.

A loud roar filled the air and she groaned, “Damnit. It is a Horizon lurker. Sena.” she held her hand out.

“Right.” the demon reached and grabbed the threads that materialized around his fingers and a golden halberd with a star theme formed from the threads. She took it and looked at the poor law student.

“Sena why don’t you stay with him. I’ll go get the timepiece.” she looked at him apologetically, “Sorry about this, Ru. I promise it’ll be like a bad dream when this is over!”  She jumped from the ceiling landing on the ground and running off.

He could only stare in shock as he fell to his knees. He paused, “Sena…” he looked at the demon who was holding his hands and fretting, “Mr. Nightingale?” he asked quietly.

“Yes Um hello.” he waved with a low chuckle. He laced his fingers together and took human form, however he was standing upright as he rubbed his neck annoyed, “look this is just as weird for me!” he sighed heavily, “Dear Mother Moon. That girl I swear is always a wreck no matter which dimension I find her.” he grimaced and looked down, “We can make you forget this ever happened so don’t fret so much. Think of it like.” he waved his scarred hands around looking for the words, “well as Ammy said, a bad dream.”

“Ammy?” Arulius stared even more confused.

“Oh um. It’s my nickname for Eclipse.” the demon scratched his cheek and sat down beside the law student as he thought about the matter, “I should have activated the rift but she was so hurried. I know she has a quota to make but.” he stopped hearing a roar and a loud whooping noise, “seems she found the lurker.” he leaned on his hand and rapped his fingers on the stonework nervously, “please let her handle it without injury.” he begged.

Arulius stared, “what are you exactly?” he reached a hand to touch the smooth surface of the demon’s head.

[bubblesyoh]

Calamitous

Two times they apologize to each other and three times they are so in love they can't even fool one another.

1.

When Alex opens the door, he is not expecting Michael. They don't greet each other; they don't say a word. Minutes pass and they both just stand there, Michael with his shoulders hunched over and Alex trying to understand what's going on.

"Would you like me to leave?" Michael finally asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Alex shrugs, not knowing the answer to the question just yet, that is until he is reaching a hand to Michael when the other looks over his shoulder, probably contemplating if he is welcomed or not.

"I need coffee," Alex says opening the door in invitation, pausing when Michael makes no move to join him. "Are you coming?"

"With you?" Michael asks again.

"You look like you could use a cup too."

For a moment there Michael looks at him with grief, jaw working up and down, but no words come out. He takes a step back, his shoulders tense in that way Alex knows it means he was about to run.

"Don't you dare," he warns, and Michael deflates instantly. He raises his hands in surrender and they both sigh.

For all of Michael's drama, he was never much of a crier. It was different to see him bare his emotions so openly, his eyes red and swollen told a million and one things. In less than five minutes he had two cups of coffee in his hands, but Michael still hadn't moved. Alex had never seen him so still, not even when sleeping, it that wasn't right. The silence, the stillness, the obedience, it was such a foreign concept with Michael. Who was this scared creature in his kitchen?

Alex opened his mouth to tell him it was okay, that he wasn't mad. But he was mad, he was hurt, he was tired and angry. He makes the mistake of glancing at Michael once more and instead takes a deep breath, counting to ten to calm himself. He repeats the process a few times, then shakes his head.

"Coffee," he offers as an olive branch, pointing to the chair for Michael to sit.

They drink the coffee in complete silence. One of those heavy ones, full of tension and heartbreak, full of unspoken words. Michael fidgets not long after, Alex can see him try to find the words for whatever the reason that brought him to his house.

"I'm worried you won't be safe." Michael intones carefully. "This alien business will never stop, Alex. And you are right in the middle of it all."

Alex closes his eyes and snorts in incredulity. He almost laughs, but Michael is giving him a wounded look so he elaborates. "I am right where I want to be, Guerin. I can take care of myself."

Michael reaches for his cup of coffee, probably wanting something to keep him busy. "I wasn't in a good headspace that day."

"I know you weren't." Alex agrees right away, "that doesn't mean it didn't hurt me."

"I was cruel. I can stay here and apologize forever. Maybe it was easy to love Maria, but I never loved her the way I love you. I can't promise to never hurt you again, but I promise I will try my best not to."

Alex nods, there's little more he can do, he nods and doesn't say a word and so Michael continues.

"It didn't felt right to be with her, but it helped me, Alex. It helped me to see what I truly want and where I belong. For the first time, we are having an honest conversation. I am trying for you and me. For us, and I will give you all the time and space you need."

How many times have they tried to have this talk and failed? It always ends up in accusations and petty words. How much they hurt each other, how they are not good together, how it was not the right time.

"Thank you, Michael." He says quietly, voice cracking on the last word. He hears Michael slide off the chair. He puts his hands on Alex's shoulder, sliding his arms around him. Alex resists for half a second, and then gives up, burying his face in Michael's neck.

Michael holds him until they are both breathing normally, and then he looks at him. He puts a hand to the side of his face, cupping it, and Alex leans into his touch. "I don't know how to fix it, I don't even know where to start. And I understand if you'd rather not take a chance on us, but if you're in, so am I. I don't want us to keep hurting each other, I want us to grow and learn and be happy together."

As promises for the future went, this one wasn't much, but at the same time, it was everything. It was nothing like the promises they had made once when young and foolishly in love. But unlike those promises, Alex believed they might be able to keep this one. After all, Michael's voice still makes the warm feelings in his chest bloom. The wrinkles around his eyes, the soft smiles; it makes the longing in Alex's heart grow stronger.

"I miss you, Guerin. So damn much."

Michael is snotty and tear-stained, and he wipes his nose on his shirt sleeve, but when he looks at Alex, he is smiling and is the most beautiful thing Alex has ever seen in his life.

2.

The cold sweats and tangled sheets. Looming shadows, blood, and screams. The feeling of his heart pounding in his throat as he blinks into the darkness of his room, the all-encompassing terror heavy on his bones. He is a prisoner in his own body. He can't breathe, can't even think. All he knows is alarms are sounding off in every corner of his brain, the memories still so alive and vivid in his mind that he doesn't know where he is for a few seconds.

"Shit," Michael whispers, pressing his hands against his face as he sits back on his bed. His heart hasn't calmed yet, his head is pounding as fast as his heart, his stuttering breath stumbling even as he tries to breathe long and deep. It feels almost impossible to fill his lungs with the oxygen he so desperately needs.

Part of him knows that he is awake, that it was a dream. However, Alex's blood still feels warm slipping through his fingers and the weight of his body feels so real and heavy in Michael's arms. A whimper slips through his lips and it's like that is all he needed to let go of the gripping pain in his chest, tears scorching hot against his cold skin.

There is still a feeling of uneasiness that eats him from inside and that'll stay with him until he sees Alex, alive and breathing. He knows he will not get any more sleep, Alex's bloody face imprinted on the back of his eyelids every time he closes his eyes. Alex is not here with Michael, he is home. To far to make sure he is safe and sound, too far away to touch, too far away for Michael to make sure he is still alive.

He grabs his phone and all he can do is stare and wonder if he should or shouldn't call Alex. Well, the answer was simple. He shouldn't. It's late, and he doesn't want to disturb him. But he wants to. He wants to call him and hear his voice and make sure he is in one piece. Michael wants to forget about the blood and the images that still haunt him.

Taking in a deep breath, Michael closes his eyes and calls Alex. The wait feels almost like an eternity but it also feels too soon and by the time he answers, Michael wasn't ready. He jerks upright as Alex's voice comes through the phone's speakers, a whimper escaping his mouth in desperation.

"Michael?" Alex asks, his voice sounding apprehensive.

.

Alex wakes to the sound of his phone buzzing and the rustle of bedsheets and his heartbeat tripping. He wakes confused and fumbles to answer, panic gripping him the way it always has done when he receives a call at night. There is a shuddery noise, something like a sob, and Alex closes his eyes. "Michael?" he murmurs. "Just breathe, sweetheart."

Michael hiccups out a sob, but he does as he's told, breathes until his breath evens out, and is steady. Until Alex thinks that maybe he's slipping off to sleep. His fingers hitch from want to hold Michael together, trying to undo what he just went through.

"I'm sorry," Michael rasps out and Alex huffs. "I don't want to talk about it." He says before Alex can ask.

"What can I do?"

Michael is quiet for a long time. "I don't... I don't know what I want."

Alex closes his eyes and brings the covers tightly around him. He starts with humming, but when he catches himself he is whispering, voice slow and velvety. His voice was croaky with exhaustion, but soft and slow and sweet. Michael's breathing grew heavy, and for a brief moment, they were seventeen again, the two of them against everything and everyone. Alex finished with a note of finality in his voice, a thin smile on his lips when the only thing he could hear on the line was Michael softly breathing.

3.

"I do not have poor taste," Kyle immediately retorts with indignation.

"Is that the animated version or the live-action version?" Isobel asked while making herself comfortable in the armchair.

"The animated version," Kyle answered before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "You know, the superior version."

"Leave me to die," Michael moans, but it was clearly not serious and Alex rolls his eyes, while Kyle grabs the remote, pointedly leaving Netflix hovering over Die Hard, causing the trailer to play. "Why would you let him pick the movie?"

Alex, patient as ever, shrugs, leaning his crutches against the wall and taking a seat on the sofa. In the dim light cast by the TV's screen and the numerous lamps dotting the room, Michael appears softer than normal. His eyes, usually wild and tired, are gentle and warm. It is a pleasant change of pace, Alex muses, to be able to witness a Michael so open and vulnerable, to see him enjoying himself and having fun.

"Because it's his turn," Isobel offers in response as she reaches across to pluck the remote out of Kyle's hands and Kyle raises his hand above his head, that is until Isobel looks at him for a moment, a wicked glint in her eye and he gives her the remote, wrapping himself entirely up in a blanket in defeat.

"Monopoly was also his idea and you remember how well that went, right?" Michael says elbowing Alex in the side to get his attention. "It was a disaster, I thought Max was going to cry."

Who would have thought something as simple and cheesy as a friends night would be exactly what they needed? Tonight is just the four of them, but it's more than enough. It's a sacrifice Alex is more than happy to take part in. To see Michael cozy and happy, cocooned in Alex's oversized knitted hoodie is the best he's felt in a long time.

Isobel teases Michael for a good part of the night, Michael lets her and he even cracks a smile at Kyle once or twice. But for Alex, the best part is to snuggle on the couch, a fresh cup of coffee in his hands, and looking at Michael. He was sitting on the other side of the couch, legs curled in under him and he had a blanket wrapped around his back like a cape. His hair was messy and curly and perfect. Alex could stare at him all night.

There were still clashes and squabbles among them both, but somehow it seemed to alleviate the pressure of what it was expected of their relationship. It was hard to see how much they had missed, but fun to do things they never tried together. So when Michael catches Alex staring at him, neither of them looks away or runs, instead they share a smile, serene and carefree.

"You both need to focus on the movie," Isobel mutters. "You've been staring at each other for the last fifteen minutes, it's movie night, not stare at your boyfriend night."

"I was just admiring the view," Michael says with a wink, grinning wildly and peppering a wet kiss to Alex's cheek, neither of them feeling the need to label their relationship. The first few gatherings they had, there were always side glances and whispered words at how close he and Michael seemed to be. They didn't understand that Alex & Michael have been best friends for a long time, a journey that may have been punctuated with misery and distress, but also a friendship that survived it all.

"If you weren't such a dick, I would actually say that you can be quite sweet," Kyle mutters under his breath.

Around halfway through the movie, the two had migrated closer to each other; settled comfortably against one another. Alex does not remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up the room is dark, he is warm and comfortable and Michael is asleep with his head on his thigh. He can hear Isobel snickering quietly, but the lull of sleep is too heavy for him to care about anything else.

4.

Michael turned towards Alex and felt a pang of guilt hit him like a bullet to the chest, it was obvious that Alex wasn't doing so well. His unfocused gaze was burning holes in the table where a small vase of plastic flowers was. One of his hands massaging his thigh, probably trying to ease away the pain of a lost limb. Maybe it was the wooded coffee shop walls or just the dark floors, but he appeared to be a shade or two paler than normal.

Sometimes it was easy to brush aside the fact that Alex could get hurt. That words and actions hurt as much as physical blows. Alex didn't react when Michael took the seat in front of him, his eyes remained glued on the same spot. Up close he looked even worse, dark bruises around his eyes remnant of lack of sleep. There are days when a far-off look appears in his eyes, he gets quiet for a little too long, gets tired, and closed off. Those are the days where they usually stay inside, huddle together for warmth and comfort, and read a book together.

"I'm fine," Alex tells him, now hunched over on the edge of the table.

"You're not fine," Michael answers back, worrying his bottom lip.

"I'm fucking fine." He whispers-yells with a hitch to his voice.

"It's okay not to be. I don't expect you to be fine. I want you to heal, and you don't rush that." Alex slumps over, dropping his face into his hand with a shaky breath, and Michael continues. "You're allowed to be upset, and you know you can always come to me if you want to. Always."

Alex breath stutters for a few seconds, and he finally glances at Michael. Such a sharp change from the Alex Manes that Michael is used seeing. "Yeah," Alex acknowledges, looking tiny and worn out, a smile on his face, though it was too forced, too painful to look at.

Michael wants nothing more than to hold him with everything he has, to reassure him and cradle him. Instead, he reaches across the table, covering Alex's hand with his own.

"I'm right here. You're right here too. We are both here and we are getting there."

Alex glances in his direction with apprehensive eyes, almost like he is choosing his next words carefully, afraid they will scare Michael away. "I'm sorry, Guerin, for every single time."

Michael wants to ask him why he is sorry, the words are on the tip of his tongue, ready to be spoken when he understands it. He closes his eyes, but he couldn't quite shut off his mind and thoughts. Not when Alex's breaths were growing just the faintest bit uneven with emotion that he wouldn't dare to show just to anyone.

Michael took a moment to compose himself. "Surprisingly enough," he said, "I've gotten used to it."

"I'm sorry." Alex winced and apologized again, almost uncertainly this time. He looked worried, the corners of his mouth pulled down and his eyebrows pinched towards each other.

"I did not mean it like that, Alex. I just never felt you owed me an apology. When we were together, was when I felt the happiest. When you left, I always thought I deserved it. But now that you're apologizing, I realize that maybe I needed you to do it, so thank you, Alex, I will treasure those words."

Alex relaxed just the faintest bit more. He nods and Michael looks at him, this man is the most precious person he has ever laid his eyes on. So, right in the middle of a coffee shop, between the smell of roasted coffee beans and vanilla and strawberry cupcakes, Michael leans over the table, and brushes a soft kiss to Alex's cheek, stroking his thumb across his cheekbones, before pressing another kiss to the tip of his nose.

"I mean it, we didn't deserve the shit we gave each other," Alex whispers in his ear, reciprocating the favor with a small kiss to Michael's temple, lips lingering on Michael's skin for a couple of seconds. "We reached a point in our relationship that we don't have to pretend anymore."

"I know, I forgive you," Michael mumbles back just as softly.

5.

For Michael, falling is a habit. Despite his tendency to act in anger, lashing out that seems to hold as little to none forethought, he's a patient man. He falls, he gets back up, and he repeats that cycle as many times as necessary, he does what needs to be done. Someone else, anyone else, getting hurt because they stuck too close to him, shouldn't be an issue. It's to be expected. And yet Michael's hands are shaking, his fingers soaked in blood.

It was a clean wound. A lot of blood, but uncomplicated; the bullet tore through Alex's arm cleanly. Usually, they were good at avoiding serious injuries. Normally Michael doesn't have to drench his fingers in Alex's blood and feel him shiver as his body goes into shock. It wasn't life-threatening. Alex's going to hurt like hell, and there's going to be a scar, but the gunshot wound had mostly stopped bleeding by the time they arrived at the hospital.

"Michael," Alex called.

Michael recoiled slightly. "Shut the hell up!"

He wanted to hold it together, he really did, but everything seemed to hit him at once, all the stress and fear and emotions flooding him like a wave. Every time he lifts his hands and sees the blood, his fingers tremble. He knows that the wound is minor, Alex will not die. But Michael's hands won't stop shaking, he's smearing blood everywhere, and Alex's reassuring smile is going to give him nightmares. The adrenaline seemed to drain from him, his shoulders slacking as tears rose to his eyes.

Alex throws a glance at him. He gives him a once-over, probably noticing for the first time his blood drenching Michael's hands and shirt. "You should go home and try to rest."

"I will not get some rest!" Michael snaps, realizing one of his hands has curled tightly into Alex's shirt. He yanks his hand away. "You– you just almost died in my arms! You were shot in front of me!" Michael trips backward to avoid Alex's hand reaching for him.

"Hey," Alex breathed, as he offered a hand out for Michael to take. As carefully as he could, Michael took a seat next to Alex on the too-small hospital bed and curled his fingers around Alex's. Alex took a bullet for him. A literal bullet and he could have died. Michael opens his mouth, then shuts it silently.

"Alex," Michael sighed tiredly, and he wasn't sure where he wanted to go with that. He wanted to scream, scold, cry, and kiss Alex all at once. His heart was still pounding too loud in his chest and breathing caught somewhere between his mouth and his lungs. Alex's fingertips are now resting feather-light beneath his chin, brushing a lock of hair away from Michael's cheek with his thumb. "I want to go home with you," Michael says very quietly.

"I love you," Alex responds back, his thumb drifting down to skim along Michael's bottom lip.

"What?" Michael questions. It was not fair of Alex to say those words when Michael was not able to collect his thoughts properly. It was a low blow to say it after the situation they just went through. If this was a few months ago, Michael may have been inclined to think such a declaration to be manipulation, now he knows it to be true.

"I said, I love you," Alex insisted. Neither of them had confessed their love for one another, as of yet but there was no denying it. Michael knew he loved Alex. He loved the man sitting in a hospital bed, tired and bloody and still beautiful, more than his own life. And in turn, Alex loved him as much.

Michael could feel his nose and eyes sting once more, every ounce of worry, fear, and anger finally bleed out. For a short while, every single one of his previous emotions was replaced with an overwhelming swell of love for Alex. The phantom sensation of being unable to breathe squeezes around his throat, and he puts a palm flat on his chest, forces in a deep breath with his eyes closed. It's okay. They are okay.

"You don't play fair," Michael let out, wet and strangled. He leaned over to brush his mouth over Alex's for a light kiss. Michael went back for another, one that was just a little harder but carried all the adoration he felt for Alex. He tried to pull away, but Alex brought his good hand to cradle the back of Michael's head, and held him there. "But just so you know, I love you back."

Alex's embrace was the only one capable of banishing the nightmares and sorrows. The only thing able to remove the ugliness that always clung and whispered to him. Michael would be lying if he said that he wasn't trembling with the emotions clawing up his throat. He'd be lying if he tried to deny how badly he wanted to curl into Alex and shed a few tears.

"I'm sorry I scared you. Everything is okay, Michael. I'm here."

Michael nuzzles into his neck, pressing warm lips there. Trailed them down the side of Alex's neck where they stopped and then just breathed Alex in. He snuggled in closer, unwilling to let go of Alex just yet. He lowered his hand to Alex's shoulder, thumb reaching up to caress the exposed skin above the blood-covered bandage.

There was no doubt, they worked well together. It had taken time, but they had learned, through various trials and errors, how to cohabitate, but still how to give each other their own space when necessary. To be there for one another, but not to be possessive. To just let go, to be happy and in love. Michael and Alex finally learned how to be together, how to love each other forever and ever.

[villlainarc]

roceit highschool rivals to lovers? they argue and flirt in equal amounts and both of their respective friend groups are so tired of the romantic tension (so, maybe, they decide to take it into their own hands to get them together finally) ~ Lo 🍇

Here, Blinking In the Starlight

100 stars in the sky prompts

Summary: Roman and Janus are rivals.

(And despite what Virgil may say, that does not mean they are simply refusing to admit they’re in love.)

Pairings: Roceit, Platonic Logince, Brotherly Anxceit, Platonic Analogical

Warnings: vague fantasy(?) violence, death mention, weapon mention, an unnamed character gets stabbed (but doesn’t die and there’s no gore), what could be interpreted as non-consensual kissing (it isn’t but. the character doing the kissing doesn’t have explicit permission so. this is just to air on the safe side), implied threat of murder through poisoning, (this isn’t anywhere near as dark as those warnings make it out to be i’m just covering all my bases), three (3) swear words

Word Count: 4096

Taglist: @max-is-tired @raaindropps @kiribakuandcats @main-chive @emo-disaster @heavenly-roman

Notes:

me: *opens prompts in part so i can practice writing shorter fics*

also me: *write over 4000 words after vowing to make all of these no longer than 2k 😔🤙*

tldr this really wasn’t supposed to get this long i swear but also it’s roceit so i’m not gonna complain at least. not too much

ao3

_________________________

“Get down!” Roman cried, pointing at a spot just beyond Janus’s head.

Janus turned to see what Roman had been gesturing towards, ducking as they did. It was just in time, too, as the moment they had moved out of the way, a fist flew right over their head. They gave Roman a grateful smile before their eyes went wide and they pulled Roman flush against their chest, out of the way of someone else who had lunged at him.

“You saved me,” Roman said as soon as the danger had passed, fluttering his eyes innocently as he rested a hand against Janus’s chest.

Janus rolled their eyes at the way Roman’s hand moved to play with one of the curls by the side of their face, carefully extracting themself from Roman’s arms. “You can thank me later. How about we focus on getting out of here for now?”

“I think I’d much rather stay here with you.” Roman fluttered his eyelashes once more, peering through them to fix Janus with a pout.

“And I much rather not die, but to each their own.”

“Fair enough,” Roman conceded, twirling Janus out of the way of another incoming swing. “Dying really would put a damper on our relationship, my love.”

“Darling, you’ll have to finish saving me before we can truly call this a relationship,” they shot back.

“Oh, just admit it. You think I’m the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on.” Roman’s cocky grin refused to fade as he spun them through the surrounding chaos, never letting Janus stray more than a few inches from his arms.

“I think nothing of the sort,” they replied, letting themself be guided through a flurry of swinging swords and outstretched hands that continued their onslaught in vain as Janus and Roman waltzed their way past.

Roman merely smiled at that, lifting Janus into the air and spinning them out of the way, causing two guards with who’d been rushing towards the two of them to crash into each other.

After Roman placed Janus back on the ground, there were only three guards left standing. “If you’ll excuse me,” Roman said, lightly kissing the back of Janus’s hand. “I have one more thing to take care of before you can officially call me your true love.” Leaving Janus standing there, holding the hand he’d just kissed their hand to their chest, Roman drew his sword. In one smooth motion, he turned around and drove it cleanly through the first of the guards.

The final two took one look at their newly fallen comrade and tripped over their feet trying to get away.

“Now,” Roman said, turning back to Janus, his smile just as blinding as it had been before, “love of my life, what was the gift I was supposed to receive for rescuing the princess, again?”

“You’re incorrigible,” Janus claimed, though there wasn’t so much as a drop of venom behind it. The smile they wore as they strode towards Roman also didn’t help matters, and when they wrapped an arm around his waist and dropped him into a dip, there was no question at all that their words had been purely for show.

They held him there for a moment, smiling coyly. Then, without warning, Janus drew Roman back towards their chest as they leaned into him and met his lips in a kiss.

“Stop, stop, stop. What was that, Janus? I don’t think there’s a kiss in the blocking, is there?”

“No, you’re right. Sorry ma’am, I just got caught up in the scene.” Janus gave their director a winning smile as they set Roman upright again. “Now that you mention it though,” they said, casually adjusting their dress, “I think that final scene would be more impactful if it did end in a kiss, don’t you?”

The director frowned. “I’ll think about it,” she replied. “It looked good, I’ll admit, but both you and Roman would have to be alright with the change in blocking. So, what do you think, Roman?”

Janus turned to truly look at Roman for the first time since they’d kissed him. A smirk grew on their face as they saw the brilliantly red blush that had taken over his. “Yes, Roman, what do you think?” they asked, genuine curiosity seeping into their voice that was completely at odds with the smirk that remained firmly in place. “If I made you uncomfortable in any way, I truly apologize.”

Roman had to take several deep breaths to steady his voice, opening and shutting his mouth a total of four times in rapid succession before he managed to say, “Uh, yes. Whatever you think would be best is fine by me.”

“I’ll have to see both versions again just to be sure, so if you wouldn’t mind running the scene from the top two more ti—”

“Oh! Would you look at the time!” Roman exclaimed suddenly, gesturing towards the clock hanging on the back wall of the theater. “Doesn’t rehearsal end at five thirty? And, wow, is it really five o’clock already? You usually give us thirty minutes to change out of costume so you can give us your notes before we have to leave, right?”

“Ah, so I do. Time really does fly when you’re having fun, huh?”

“It absolutely does,” Janus agreed, offering their arm out to Roman with a smirk on their face and a twinkle in their eyes. “Let’s go get changed, shall we?” When Roman remained too frozen to take their arm, Janus dropped it to instead take his hand with a wink, leading him off the stage.

And oh, how the universe spun with that one wink.

_________________________

“They kissed me!” Roman wailed upon sliding into the passenger’s seat of Logan’s car.

“I beg your pardon?”

Had Roman been feeling like his usual fabulous self, he would have replied with a flippant, ‘Then beg,’ but as it was, he could barely manage to form a coherent thought and was far from being at the top of his game. So instead, he continued in the most melodramatic voice known to man, “Janus Adler kissed me!”

“Janus Adler, your co-star in the spring musical? The one who plays your love interest? I fail to see how this would come as a surprise.”

“No no, you don’t understand, Lo. There is not a single kiss written into that musical. Not one! They made it up, they—” Roman’s head fell into his hands at that, “Janus Adler had the audacity to improvise a kiss in the middle of a scene! And I— I’m going to have to bring this up with the director. We can’t ruin the integrity of the musical by adding a kiss that isn’t even there!”

“Mm. What musical is this, again?”

“That’s terribly unimportant. Besides, I have it on good authority that the author doesn’t care about the musical at all outside of its ability to be used as a plot device, so really, the only thing you need to know is that it must not be deflowered by a kiss that was never in any way intended to be there.”

“Is this musical a classic, then? Or is it specifically stated that there were to be no kisses, no matter how many other creative liberties are taken? Perhaps you meant that the author cares about this musical’s use as a plot device, it’s lack of kisses, and nothing else? Is it—”

“That doesn’t matter, it’s the principle of the thing, Logan!”

“Interesting.”

“What is?”

“How did you react when Janus kissed you?” Logan deflected.

“I— what? Why do you— That doesn’t have anything to do with this! At all! And for the record, my reaction to them kissing me out of the blue was perfectly normal!”

“So you cringed at the fact that someone you are not romantically or sexually interested in kissed you? Or did you shove them away and tell them to never do that again because you so clearly don’t have a crush on them? Perhaps y—”

“You’re absolutely right, I don’t have a crush on them, but why did you feel the need to point that out?”

Logan sighed. “No reason at all. Now, did you react in any of those ways?”

“…Yes.”

“If you insist,” Logan said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“I very much do. Now, I would like to get home sometime within this century, so if you could drive me home and stop pestering me, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“I’m going to force you to get your own car one day, you know.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

_________________________

“I kissed him!” Janus wailed as they fell backwards onto Virgil’s bed like an ailing Victorian lady.

“That’s fantastic. Get the fuck out of my room now?”

Janus sat up with a huff, dropping their over-dramatized persona. “Virgil, my dearest brother whom I love with my entire heart, you are the worst.” They fell backwards once more. “You don’t understand,” they said, bringing a hand to their forehead. “I kissed Roman Kingsley!”

“Roman Kingsley, your co-star in the spring musical? The one who plays your love interest? Isn’t that, like… supposed to happen? Don’t love interests normally kiss in musicals?”

“Well, yes, but not in that scene. I improvised a kiss, Virgil. Do you not understand how weird that is? Roman probably hates me.” They pouted at Virgil, looking solely for sympathy as they knew, judging by the blush on Roman’s face, that he very much did not hate them.

“Wow, that really sucks,” Virgil deadpanned. “Must be so awful to have the person you have constantly referred to as your rival hate you.”

“It is— wait, no. I don’t— did I really call Roman— oh, that’s interesting. Well, we aren’t exactly rivals anymore, especially since I started presenting more feminine and getting more female leads than male ones, you know? Less fighting over roles. And I don’t think he ever hated me, even when we were more officially rivals. There’s a very specific connotation implied when you refer to two people as rivals, and it doesn’t involve flat-out animosity, so—”

“Right,” Virgil nodded in agreement. “The connotation is lots of sexual and or romantic tension followed by pining. You don’t have to tell me, I know rivals implies fanfiction-style rivals to lovers, four hundred thousand word slow burn—”

“You know what! I think that’s enough, thank you. That isn’t what I meant by rivals, and you know it.”

“Did I really? Are you sure you weren’t implying that you might have at least a little bit of a crush on Roman Ki—”

“Oh, you are hilarious, Virgil. Truly.”

“I try,” Virgil grinned, fully looking up from his phone for the first time since Janus had entered the room. “Now, what was that about Roman?”

“Rivals,” they said, completely ignoring the blush they could feel rising on their face. “Rivals, and nothing more.”

“For someone who was cast as one of the lead roles in this musical, you’re awfully bad at acting.”

“I have no idea what you mean, though I do believe you asked me to leave your room, and I’d loathe to ignore your request.”

“Aw, you sure you don’t want to stick around now? I was just getting started!”

“And now you’re done! Funny how that works, isn’t it? Thank you so very much for your input, Virgil, now I recommend watching what you drink for the next several days.”

“Love you too.”

_________________________

“Hey L?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“Janus is an idiot.”

“While that is true, I’m now inclined to ask what they did this time in particular.”

“Y’know how they’ve had the most obvious, stupid, disgustingly sappy crush on Roman for the longest time?”

“Ah, how could I have missed it?”

“Right? Anyway, I want to rub their vehemently denied feelings in their face and get them and Roman together.”

“Hm, I second that. Roman has been similarly insufferable.”

“Good to know that they’re both utter morons.”

“You say that like it wasn’t already the most obvious thing in the world.”

“Touché.”

“Did you have a plan?”

“Oh, hell no. Please. Planning is for losers, procrastinating until the last possible second is where it’s at.”

“Virgil—”

“Yeah, yeah, procrastination is bad or whatever the point is that I am very much looking to you when it comes to understanding the allos. Help me Logie Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.”

“If you’re going to make a science fiction themed nickname, please do not make it a Star Wars one.”

“Fine, but only if you agree to help me.”

“You don’t need to bribe me, Virgil. Getting out of hearing Roman pine hopelessly after someone who is very much in love with him is incentive enough for me.”

“Good,” Virgil said with a smile, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder. “But we’re finishing this movie before any planning is going to take place.”

“…Please tell me you don’t hope to enact this plan tomorrow.”

“Okay, I won’t then,” Virgil agreed, deliberately saying nothing else.

“You’re lucky you’re my best friend.”

“You bet I am. We’re still waiting until this movie is done, though.”

Logan sighed, but there was little more than fondness behind it. If he asked for it, Logan would give his best friend the moon. Compared to that, sacrificing a few hours of sleep was negligible at worst and at best, it would be beyond worth it to see Virgil happy.

And whenever Logan spent time with Virgil, the universe did always seem to favor the latter.

_________________________

“This is a horrible plan.”

“Look, you were the one who agreed to it, you can’t blame me entirely,” Virgil said rather petulantly.

“I was running on four cups of coffee, so I feel I very much can. And you know, even then I’m fairly certain I told you that aggressively telling people what they’re feeling until they admit it really isn’t the best way to go about this.”

“Yeah, well…” Virgil shrugged. “Too late to change it up now.”

“No, it really isn—”

“Shhh,” Virgil shushed, holding a finger up to Logan’s lips. “Just roll with it.”

Logan sighed at that, having known Virgil for far too long to believe that there was any way to change his mind at this point.

“Oh!” Virgil tugged on the sleeve of Logan’s shirt to get his attention, nodding towards the person who had just walked up to the locker in front of them. “Janus’s here.”

“Hm, how wonderful.”

“We’re still doing this, right?”

Logan sighed once more, nodding his agreement. “If you insist.”

“Great!” Virgil wrapped his arm around Logan’s dragging him towards Janus, who had since stopped trying to open their locker and was now squinting suspiciously at the pair making their way towards them.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re just stopping by to say hello,” Logan said in a way that was likely meant to soothe Janus, but only put them more on edge.

“Hi,” they replied, taking a slow step backwards, growing more suspicious by the second. “I’m just going to… head off to class now.” They gave an awkward sort of wave, taking another step away from Virgil and Logan.

“Oh no you don’t,” Virgil said, his bright smile at odds with his vaguely threatening words. “We need to talk, so you’re going to skip your first class.” Upon seeing Janus open their mouth to protest, Virgil cut in, “And don’t pretend you haven’t ever skipped class before. And even if you haven’t,” he added once Janus started to protest again, “don’t pretend your grade won’t be perfectly fine either way.”

“Look,” Logan said, his tone much calmer than Virgil’s, “this conversation is important. And Virgil is right, your grades will not suffer because of one missed class.”

“…What the hell is going on? Since when has Logan Doyle been okay with skipping class?”

“Oh, my first period is free, so I am not skipping class.”

“That wasn’t really the point,” Janus pointed out with a frown. “Seriously, what the hell is going on?”

“You’ll see. How does the library work for you?” Logan asked, his demeanor still infuriatingly calm.

“You realize I have still yet to agree to this, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter, we’re doing it no matter what you say,” Virgil said, his smile quickly growing tired as he latched onto the sleeve of Janus’s jacket and began to tug.

Janus let out a huff at Virgil’s actions. “This is a nice jacket, let go!” When they realized Virgil most definitely was not going to let go, they gave a resigned sigh. “If I go with you to the library willingly, will you stop ruining my clothes?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, but he did release his hold on his sibling’s jacket. “Don’t be so dramatic, I was far from ruining anything. Come on,” he said, motioning with his head to indicate which way they were going. “I’m sure you don’t want to miss both first and second period.”

Janus gave Virgil a tired eyebrow raise as they followed him through the crush of bodies that filled the hallway, Logan just behind them. “You would be right.”

“Oh, I know,” Virgil said, shooting a grin over his shoulder at Janus. “Speaking of things that I know,” Virgil began, strolling the library doors in a way that was entirely too casual to alleviate Janus’s suspicions, “I know you’re in love with Roman Kingsley.”

Virgil was positively beaming at what was no doubt a horrifyingly shocked look on Janus’s face. And when they turned to see a matching smug expression on Logan’s, they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the universe absolutely despised them.

_________________________

“Roman,” Virgil sing-songed from behind his friend. “Roman, Logan and I need to talk to you,” he continued in the same ominously lilting voice.

Roman turned around from his seat at the lunch table with a frown. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all,” Logan assured him with a kind and only barely forced smile. “You have nothing to worry about, there’s just an important conversation Virgil and I believe we should have.”

“If not worried, should I be concerned? You two are acting in a way that I feel should garner concern.” Roman’s question was met with a chorus of denial, and he shrugged. “Then what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Virgil said, sliding into a chair on Roman’s right.

“Just the fact that you’re in love with Janus Adler,” Logan said, nodding his agreement with Virgil’s words before sitting down on Roman’s other side as though he hadn’t just confirmed what Roman had always known to be true: the universe was working around to clock to bring about his doom.

_________________________

“Now, love of my life, what was the gift I was supposed to receive for rescuing the princess?”

“You’re incorrigible,” Janus claimed, wearing a smile as they strode towards Roman, and when they wrapped an arm around his waist and dropped him into a dip, that smile grew coy. After a moment of holding Roman suspended just barely above the stage, Janus drew him back towards their chest as they leaned down and met his lips in a kiss.

“Finish the scene now,” the director ordered, flipping a page of her script as she marked something down in it.

“But you love me anyway, don’t you?” Roman replied without missing a beat as Janus set him upright.

“Perhaps I do,” Janus said, their voice turning unusually quiet.

Roman paused, watching them intently. “Do you love me because I saved you? Or because I’m pretty?”

“I love you because you’re you, Ro— Your Highness.”

At this, the director looked up with a frown. As far as she knew, that line wasn’t in the script. Before she could interrupt though, Roman carried on with the scene. “Do you not think I’m pretty, then?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Quite the contrary,” Janus countered. “I may not have admitted it before, but I do believe you are the most gorgeous person I have ever laid eyes on.”

“Is that so?” Roman asked, trying and failing to hide how flustered he suddenly was.

“It is indeed. There’s much I haven’t told you, Your Highness.”

“Like what?” Roman’s voice grew hushed as he stepped even closer to Janus.

“Like the fact that I love you—that I have loved you for longer than I’d care to admit.”

“Is that so?” Roman repeated, watching with wide eyes as Janus brought their hands to his face.

Janus nodded, their smile growing upon seeing Roman’s deepening blush. “What about you, Your Highness? Is there anything you’ve been keeping from me?”

“I think I love you too.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“Good,” Janus said, slowly lowering their face to meet Roman’s, giving him more than enough time to pull away.

He didn’t.

So Janus Adler kissed Roman Kingsley once more, showing no signs of ever wanting to stop doing so.

The director sighed, interrupting the silence that had fallen over the theater. “Look, you’re both great actors, but I think rewriting the final scene is a bit much as far as creative liberties go. Do you two have something more you want to say to each other, or…?”

Janus pulled themself away from Roman’s lips, blinking in a slightly dazed fashion. “Sorry, ma’am,” they said, smiling innocently at the director like they hadn’t been about to start shamelessly making out with their co-star on stage.

Roman coughed in an attempt to hide how out of breath he was. “What— what did you think of, uh, adding the first kiss to the blocking?”

“Or the second one,” Janus added, acting like both had been meticulously planned out over the course of at least several weeks.

Shaking her head, the director sighed again. “If you promise to stop changing the script, you can keep the first one, but I don’t think the second one really fits—”

“What about after the last line?” Janus asked, clearly having no ulterior motives when it came to wanting to kiss Roman at any and every given opportunity.

“You mean your last line?”

“No, the one that’s split between the four narrators, ‘and they lived happily ever after.’ What if we kissed during that? It seems like a pretty good way to show that we—we meaning the characters, of course—are indeed living happily ever after.”

“Fine,” the director said, sounding painfully tired as she marked down the change in her script. “Now go get into costume with the rest of the cast, we still have every other scene in the show to run through.”

As soon as the director turned away, Janus offered their arm out to Roman just as they had yesterday, the same smirk on their face and the same twinkle in their eyes. This time, Roman took it. “Something’s got you feeling bolder today, hm?” Janus said, setting off for the dressing rooms just down the hall.

“Blame Logan. And your brother. Mostly your brother, actually. He’s very convincing.” Janus raised an eyebrow. “And by convincing, I mean threatening,” Roman clarified.

“That he is,” Janus agreed. “I suppose I should really be thanking them both, though. I likely wouldn’t have kissed you that second time without their intervention, and that truly is a tragedy.”

Roman flushed. “You don’t have to do that anymore, you know.”

“What, flirt? Oh, but Roman, then I’d miss seeing you get all flustered,” they pouted. “And why ever would I do that?”

“Um… because you love me?”

“You make a strong argument, but I’m afraid no amount of love will convince me that your blush isn’t the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“I take it you haven’t seen a mirror, then,” Roman replied, looking smug.

Janus merely laughed. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, love.”

“Mark my words, I’ll figure out how to turn you into a blushing mess one day. You won’t even see it coming.”

Janus stopped and turned to Roman, fluttering their eyelashes. “Is that so?” they purred, taking slow, deliberate steps toward Roman and crowding him up against the wall.

“Yes?” Roman squeaked out, captivated by the way even the fluorescent lights overhead made Janus’s mismatched eyes look utterly enchanting.

Taking pity on Roman, Janus laughed and took a step backwards. “I look forward to it, my prince,” they said, keeping eye contact with Roman as they brought his hand to their lips and placed a feather-light kiss on the back of it.

And in that moment, the whole universe felt perfect.

_________________________

finding other things i’ve written in my masterpost

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: G

Summary: Kagami and Nino plan a surprise party for Adrien's seventeenth birthday. With help from their friends, nothing can go wrong this time. Nino's even invited an extra special guest who's sure to make Adrien's night. (Nino & Kagami & Adrien friendship, with a side of Ladrien)

Word Count:  3101 | Chapter 1/3

Notes: written for @marinetteplztakeabreak through the @mlbforblm charity drive!  The donations go directly to Color of Change, an online organization for racial justice centered on the Black Lives Matter movement.  I highly recommend checking them out and reblogging/donating the mlbforblm posts if you’re able!  I have one fic slot left as of 7/23/2020, and many other talented writers and artists are offering incentives as well!  There’s even a giveaway going on; see the mlbforblm blog for more info!

XXX

“Hmm.”  Kagami’s brow furrowed as she stared at Nino’s Operation: Totally Swank Party binder.  The two of them sat on a bench in the park, where she had agreed to meet him after slipping away from her fencing lesson.  “Bribing the bodyguard is a proven technique.  Get me a list of action figures his collection is missing, and I’ll have them by tomorrow.”

“Way ahead of you, dude.”  Nino tore a piece of notebook paper out.  He’d done his research last night after a long phone call with Adrien.  “Glad I can count on you.”

“Of course.”  She neatly folded the paper and slipped it into her jacket pocket.  “I’ll have them shipped to your apartment.  Do you have a plan to dispose of his babysitter?”

Nino sighed and flipped to the page with a doodle of Nathalie with horns at the top.  It was a much more tentative outline than what he’d prepared to deal with the Gorilla.  Hopefully Kagami would be able to help him with that.

“Nathalie’s whole job is to suck out all the fun in my bro’s life.  We’ll never be able to throw this party with her in the picture.”

He’d tried the past three years.  From Hawkmoth transforming him into the Bubbler, to Nathalie locking him in a closet, to Gabe himself nearly arresting him for trespassing, each had been a total bust.  At this point Adrien probably wasn’t expecting Nino to try.

But Adrien was his best bro.  Nino would never give up on throwing him the most poppin’ party ever.  

Plus, this year, he had a secret weapon.  One that even Kagami didn’t know about.

“You seem quite prepared.”  Kagami squinted at the page.  “You’re sure Max can play his part?  The Agrestes use my mother’s security technology.”

“Positive.  He and Markov can hack anything.”  

Max had already wired into the speaker system last time they threw a party for Adrien.  Of course, on Adrien’s birthday, the mansion would be too obvious a target.  That’s why the plan just required getting his bro out of the house altogether.

“I’ll trust you, then.  What exactly is my role?”

Nino grinned, placing a hand on her shoulder.  “You, my good bro, will be sneaking Adrien away from his fake fencing lessons.  Adrien says you’ve done it a thousand times, and his pops still barely knows who you are.  You’ve got like, some kind of invisibility superpower.”

“I simply have practice.  That’s all.”  She took his pen and began making notes in his binder.  “Nathalie will realize we’re gone approximately forty-five minutes after we leave.  The Gorilla has set patrol routes for finding Adrien when he goes missing, which I can map out for you.”

“If he takes the bribes, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Kagami was already sketching out a map of the city on a clean sheet of paper.  Geez, how did she remember all that?  He doubted he could even draw the path from his apartment to Alya’s.

“I don’t want to take any chances.  We cannot fail Adrien.  Do you have a venue reserved already?”

“Huh?”  Nino scratched under his hat.  Kagami was pretty rad, but it was hard to follow her train of thought sometimes.  “Oh, right! I was thinking the hotel.  Now that Chloé’s not a total jerk—”

“No.  Too obvious.  Nathalie will find us within the hour.”  Kagami frowned and tapped the pen against the back of her hand.  “The ice rink will be our best option.  It’s out of his bodyguard’s patrol zone, and it can accommodate all of Adrien’s friends.  We hid there all the time when we were dating, and no one ever found us.”

“Sure, sure, there’s just one problem.”  He grinned nervously and tapped his fingers together.  “I, uh, don’t know how to skate.”

Kagami tilted her head and.  “Really?  No matter.  His birthday is twenty-one days away.  You have plenty of time to learn.”

Over her shoulder, he watched her write “Teach Nino to ice skate” in her crisp print.

“Uhh… well, I guess that works.”  Hopefully everyone else knew how to skate already, or they could just enjoy the food and cake from the seats surrounding the rink. Nino could technically do that too, but he didn’t want to miss hanging out on the ice with his best bro.

“I’ve seen you parkour with Alya.  You seem like you’ll learn quickly.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”  Nino chuckled.  “Just get ready to watch me starfish out there.”

Her lips pursed thoughtfully.  “If it proves too difficult for you, I can try to find a backup location.  I doubt one exists that will fit everyone you’ve listed, though.”  She flipped back to the guest list, which included all of their classmates from the last few years, Adrien’s whole fencing team, and a few other friends like Luka and XY.  Pretty much everyone Adrien had ever interacted with was on the list.

Except for one special guest, but Nino had left her out on purpose.

“No, no, it’ll be fine!  I’m just joking, dude.”

“Oh.”  Her face pinked a bit.  “How are we going to deliver the invitations without alerting Nathalie or Adrien’s father?

“I’ve started planning that too.”  Nino flipped forward a few pages.  “The most important guests—ones who aren’t gonna snitch on us—will get their invites a week in advance.  The rest will get theirs by text on the day of.  If they can’t come, they can’t come.”  It was the best solution he’d been able to come up with.  He was sure that even if people did have plans, most would drop them for a chance to party with Adrien Agreste.

“Hmm.  It still feels too obvious.  The fencing team in particular may give us up.”  She frowned before scratching a few names off the list.  Well, she was on the team herself; she would know better than anyone who could be trusted.  “You’re right though.  This does seem like the best plan.”

Nino grinned.  One nice thing about Kagami was that when she gave a compliment, he knew it was sincere.  If she agreed with his birthday plan, then it was as close to foolproof as it could be.

“Sweet.  I think that covers everything for now.”

“A very productive planning session.”  Kagami nodded before holding out her fist.

Nino laughed and bumped knuckles with her.  After a year of hanging out with him and his bro, Kagami was finally getting the hang of fist bumps.

“Meet me at the ice rink at eighteen hundred on Saturday.  We’ll begin your lessons then.”

She closed the binder and handed it back to him, then stood and walked away.

“Skating lessons with Kagami, huh…” 

This was either going to be a legit time, or he was going to make a total idiot of himself.

XXX

“Come on, Nino, you’ve got this!”  Alya called encouragement as she and Marinette lapped him again.  He frowned at their backs.  How was it that even Marinette, certified clumsiest girl in Paris, could be a better skater than him?

“Focus, Nino.”  Kagami snapped her fingers.  She stayed near him, slowing her pace even though she could’ve skated rings around him.  “Your girlfriend’s praise will only become reality if you practice proper technique.  Keep your weight centered.”

“Right, right.”  He pushed off from the handrail and tried not to flap his arms.  This time, he made it a solid twenty seconds before he slipped and went skidding across the ice.  His hat slid off in the opposite direction, but Kagami quickly retrieved it.

“Don’t try to go so fast.  Catching up to Marinette and Alya isn’t your goal.”  Kagami’s advice was blunt, but helpful.  Nino didn’t mind her getting to the point.  He knew his skating needed work, and no matter how many times he fell, she didn’t lose patience with him.

It was nice that Alya was so far ahead, honestly.  It meant she didn’t see him look like a total dorkasaurus every time he fell.

I’m doing this for Adrien, he reminded himself each time.  He didn’t need to be a pro skater.  He just needed to be able to stay upright.

“You make it look so easy.”  He frowned as Kagami glided backwards.

“I’ve been skating since I was six.  It makes a relaxing hobby.”

He snorted.  “How is anything about this relaxing?”

“Hmm.  Perhaps you’re thinking too hard.  It makes you hesitate, place your weight incorrectly.  You’re a musician, aren’t you?”

“Huh?  Yeah, you know I’m DJ-ing for the party.” He had no clue why Kagami was asking, though.

“Skating has a rhythm.  Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable timing your strides with music.”

He tapped his chin.  “Y’know… that’s not a half bad idea.”

“Not half bad?  Does that mean only half is good?”

“No, no, the whole idea’s good!  It’s just an expression.”

He slipped his headphones over his ears and picked one of the slowest songs on his playlist.  It was a waltz in ¾ time; hopefully that wouldn’t trip him up.

“Alright, here goes.”

He took a deep breath and pushed off from the wall.

One-two-three, one-two-three.  The music was smooth as the ice under his skates.  Kagami kept pace with him, smiling as he counted the beats under his breath.

Something about it did feel different.  Maybe it was that he stopped overthinking; maybe it was just the magic of music.  Either way, he went the whole six-minute song without falling on his butt.

“Not half bad.”  Kagami smiled.  “...Did I use that right?”

“Heck yeah, dude.”  They fistbumped.

“Way to go Nino!”  Marinette gave him a high five as she and Alya caught up.

“Thanks for teaching my boyfriend, Kagami.  I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing, Alya.”  Kagami’s cheeks turned red.  “We’re all working together to ensure Adrien’s birthday is perfect.  Teaching Nino is just one step in that plan.”

“Well, I still think it’s really cool of you.  Oh!  And speaking of the party, my mom says she can cater.  I’ve already sworn her to secrecy.”

“Awesome!  What about you, Marinette?” Nino took his headphones off to better hear the conversation, but his legs still knew what to do.  “Are you gonna get Adrien a totally rad birthday cake or what?”

“Yeah, absolutely!”  She nodded.  “I’ll just have to drop it off before the party.”

“You’re still sure you can't come, girl?”  Alya asked her.

“No, sorry.  I promise I would if I could, but I—I’ve already made a commitment.  But I’ll have the cake here on time, I swear!”

“And one of his fifty birthday presents, right?”  She nudged Marinette with her elbow.  Marinette nearly fell, but Nino wasn’t sure if that was from Alya’s bump or her words.

“I—I don’t have those anymore!”  Her shoulders slumped.  “It turns out, planning presents fifty years in advance works a lot better if you can see the future.  They’re all out of style by now.”

Alya laughed at that.  Nino couldn’t help noticing that Kagami had gone silent, though, her gaze locked on the ice in front of them.

“Something wrong, bro?”  He asked her.

She shook her head.  “Adrien’s party won’t be perfect if Marinette isn’t present.  I thought she of all people would understand how much she means to him.”

Marinette gasped.  “I… I’m sorry, Kagami.  Adrien does mean the world to me, and… I promise, I’ll make it up to him.”

Nino was forced to stop as Kagami grabbed the handrail and locked eyes with Marinette.  Some kind of silent conversation seemed to pass between them.  He looked to Alya for help, but she just shrugged.  By now he thought he’d understand the girls, but maybe some things would always be a mystery.

“See that you do.  He deserves that much.”

This wasn’t some kind of love triangle over Adrien again, was it?  Kagami had stayed good friends with all of them after she and Adrien broke up.  Marinette was probably still crazy in love with him, but that was nothing new.

“It’s okay, dudes.  The party’s still going to be perfect.  I’ve got a special surprise planned for our favorite bro.”

He winked at Alya, who grinned back.  She’d been the one to help him pull it off.

“A surprise?”  Marinette clapped her hands together at the same time Kagami raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t factor any surprises into our plans.  Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“It’s not much of a surprise if everyone knows, is it?”  Nino said.  “But you’re right, I should have told you, Kagami.  I just wasn’t sure if it would be awkward for you, knowing who Adrien’s crushing on now and all…”

“It’s not an issue.  Adrien is a wonderful friend.  That is more than enough for me,” Kagami replied.

“Adrien’s... crushing on someone?”  Marinette asked, her eyes wide.  

Oops.  Kagami might have taken it well, but Nino should’ve waited until Marinette was gone.

“What’s the scoop, babe?”  Alya raised her eyebrow, and Nino threw his hands in the air.

“I thought you already knew!  Why do you think we worked so hard to get Ladybug to show up for his party?”

Marinette caught hold of the hand rail before her legs slipped out from under her.

“Adrien has a crush on Ladybug?”

“Oh.  That’s all?”  Kagami asked.  “I’ve known that for months.”

“You have?”  

“Was it supposed to be a secret?  He keeps posters of her in his fencing locker.”

Marinette still looked like she was blue screening.  Alya glared at Nino, and he gave a nervous smile.  What was he supposed to do?  Kagami had a point; the dude wasn’t exactly subtle.  

“Anyway.”  He coughed.  “Our bro likes Ladybug, and she’s coming to his party, so he’s going to have a totally cash money time.”

“Cash money?  You’ve been hanging out with Luka and XY too much, babe.”

Marinette giggled at that.  She got her feet back under her, and they started skating in unison again.  So… she wasn’t that upset?  Whew.

“Oh, speaking of XY, I gotta get him here to help set up the special effects,” Nino said.  “I already got permission from Phillipe.  We’re going all out, courtesy of the actual cash money Kitty Section and XY’s last collab made.”

“How did we end up friends with so many rich people?”  Alya mused under her breath.

“It sounds like the plan is in motion, then,” Kagami said.

“Yeah, it’s going to be perfect!  Adrien will love it.”  Marinette grinned.  “Thank you two for putting all this together.”

“Anything for my best bro.”  Nino shot her finger guns.

“He deserves a party worthy of his friendship,” Kagami added.

And he was going to get one.  This year, of all years, Nino refused to let anything go wrong.

XXX

Three weeks later, on the night of September twenty-first, Nino paced the blue chairs surrounding the perimeter of the ice rink.  His friends wove between the chairs, setting up tables of food and games.  His turntables were already in place at the head of the rink, and XY was hooking them up to the speaker system.

“Nathalie’s schedule?”  Nino asked as he passed Max.

“Hacked and adjusted.”  Max flashed a thumbs up.  

“Great job, dude.”  He clapped him on the shoulder before moving on to Rose and Juleka’s station.

“Presents?”

“Stacked and organized!”  Rose saluted.

“Sweet.  Make sure to leave some extra space, there’ll be more where those came from.”  He continued his path to where Chloé was lounging in a chair and scrolling through her phone.

“Chloé, status report.”

“No trace of Adrikins on Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, or YouTube.”  She flipped her ponytail.  “You should check your tone, though.  I’m not some peon you can just order around.”

“Right.”  He rolled his eyes.  Classic Chloé.  At least she was taking her job seriously, though.  “Thanks for all your hard work.”

“You’re welcome.”  She smirked.

Her job was one of the most important.  If the media caught wind of Adrien’s location, the party would have to split before he even got here.  To prevent that, Max had jammed the wifi and cell service so that only his computer, Chloé’s phone, and Nino’s phone had wifi.  If anyone wanted to post about the party on social media, they’d have to wait until after it was over.

Everything was looking perfect.  There wasn’t much else to do but wait for updates from Kagami.

19:00.  Arrived at the court.  No sign of Adrien.

19:04. Adrien has arrived.  Bodyguard bribed and driving away.

19:05. En route to ice rink.  Adrien was suspicious, but believed my excuse of buying him birthday orange juice.

Nino shook his head with a smile.  How did Kagami type all that without Adrien noticing?  At least everything seemed to going smoothly on her end, too.

He started pacing again.  According to Kagami, a casual stroll from the school to the ice rink took twenty minutes.  It was longer than Nino wanted to wait, but the location had to be far enough away to avoid notice.

His phone beeped again.  He unlocked it to see a selfie of Kagami and Adrien smiling wide, though Adrien was practically unrecognizable in the oversized hoodie and bright blue wig Kagami had borrowed from Juleka.

Alya’s chin rested on Nino’s shoulder.  “Aww, look at them.  All grown up and ready to rebel.”

“Psh, Kagami’s been rebelling for ages.  Adrien could still learn a thing or two from her.”

“Oh look, she sent another one!”  Alya clicked his phone.

In this photo, the two of them were pulling funny faces.  Adrien stuck out his tongue, while Kagami puffed out her cheeks and gave him bunny ears.

Nino laughed and put an arm around his girlfriend.  “We did a great job with them, didn’t we?”

“Absolutely.”  She smiled before zooming in on the background.  “Looks like they’re in front of the parking lot.  They’ll be here any time now.”

Sure enough, Kagami texted, 19:25. Two minutes away.

“Right!”  Nino gave her cheek a quick kiss before running to his turntables.  He snatched up the microphone, and his voice blasted through the speakers.  “Alright, dudes!  Adrien’s about to walk through those doors, so everyone hide!”

Their friends dove behind tables and chairs.  All of them except XY, anyway.

“What’s the point, dude?  He’s gonna see all our sick lights.”  XY pointed to the laser lights next to the turntable.

“That’s why we switch them off,” Luka said, pressing the button.  The rink fell into darkness.

“Ohhhh.”

Nino pulled the two of them under the table with him just before the double doors opened.

[whumperfect]

Wheels, Part 1

Hey guys! This is my first “published” story whump!! This is the Part 1 of the story, you can find part two here, part three here and part four here! Please read and feel free to share! I wrote this in collaberation with @99point9percentwhump!

That landing was effortless, Roman thought to himself, beaming with pride as he looked to his skater mates hanging out on top of the mini vert, who applauded.

“Nice job, Roman, but we’re gonna bounce.” Shouted one of the onlookers. And after a pause: “you coming?”

He thought about it for a second, his eyes wandering up to the fluffy white clouds that hugged the baby blue horizon. “Nah too nice a day.”

“Too damn hot is more like it,” chuckled his excited viewers, leaving the concrete park and the loan skater to their own devices.

Roman shrugged his shoulders as he watched his friends disappear behind the tattered gate. A rusted sign read; ‘KEEP OUT unless the gate is unlocked’. Not that that stopped kids breaking in, anyways. Roman took his board to the top of the park and let the sun melt into his clothes, his arms, his face. What a truly magnificent afternoon it was. This was his favorite kind of weather: in the dead of summer, with humidity and heat pounding into him like rain on asphalt.

The town all around him looked like it was straight out of the darkest part of Hollywood. The streets were littered with people and trash, and all around the buildings were carved out of stone and built out of brick. The look achieved was somewhat old, like a western film plopped into the middle of the mountains. Boom Town was a place old people moved to and young people moved from. As soon as the students graduated from the dilapidated high school, they hit the road and hoped to never return. As it was, many that graduated later described a supernatural- like pull that led them home. Roman didn’t believe it for a second and knew that as soon as he left, he was never coming back.

He dropped his board on the hot concrete and rested his foot upon it, breathing the scalding air into his lungs. Hopping on his board, he let the wind flow through his hair as he took a couple of laps around the pipes, diagonals, and runs that had been carved into the hill above Boom Town. He was just getting started.

Roman tugged his board back to the top of the hill, already warmed up and ready to start practicing more tricks. His friends were long gone and he relished in the silence of the mountains. Here, the oly noise were the songbirds passing overhead in their playful circles, and the occasional rustle of the breeze in the pine trees above the skate park. Pretty soon, as summer turned into fall, thousands of honking geese would disturb the silence; but not now.

As Roman cruised the drop, he hooked his board with his toe and flipped it, landing hard but safely. Cruising up the other side, and coming to a stop at the top, Roman couldn’t help but glue a wide smile to his face. This was what he was meant to do. There was no purpose, in this moment, other than the connection between his feet and the graffiti board.

Tipping his torso and his board forward once more, Roman soared down the halfpipe. He flipped his board at the bottom, and while the jump had been smooth, the landing was anything but. Catching a crack that had long been in need of repair, Roman spun out of control quickly. One moment he was flying, and the next he was lying on the ground, his cheek pressed into the hard asphalt, pain sizzling up and down the right side of his body. His board was completely still, lying on its side a couple of feet away. He blinked.

Must’ve blacked out, he thought, slowly urging himself to sit. How long had it been? A minute, max. He rubbed his head and winced when his hand brushed his cheek. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he examined his face with care. It looked worse than it was, he told himself. There were a couple of long, shallow scratches stretching from his cheekbone to just below the corner of his mouth, and already a dark welt was forming near his eye. It was beginning to swell, too.

Roman examined his arm and leg, too, which both had a series of deep cuts running along them. They were painful, but even so Roman forced himself to stand. As he righted himself, dark spots took over his vision, and he swayed, struggling to stay upright. Come on, Roman, it’s not that bad. Don’t be such a girl.  He tightened his jaw and walked slowly to his board.

He picked it up.

Tenderly scraping the dust off of the wheels and the top, he then proceeded to make his way again to the top of the halfpipe. He breathed in. Out. He let the hot air wash over him like a wave of steam. He let the pain roll off of him in vibrational waves. He let the birdsong enter his mind and cleanse it. He let the gritty texture of the board scrape against his arms and fingers. He let the breeze blow his blonde hair into his eyes and out again. He let the moment sink in. And then, he dropped his board to the concrete, fought through the sea of nausea, and rolled down the halfpipe at a leisurely pace.

Ahead, the gentle blue skies birthed ominous storm clouds.

When the rain started, Roman was halfway down the hill. The blood had been oozing out of his cuts steadily and showed few signs of stopping. His right eye had swollen deeply, and a plum purple color-tinted his eyelids and brow. The rain washed his sweat away.

Trying to stand upright while fighting the nausea that was rolling in his belly, he staggered downhill, which was a feat in itself. But feeling the cooling rain on his skin helped him feel more alive than he had a few minutes before. He glanced towards his destination; the parking lot at the foot of the hill, which seemed like an impossibly long journey.

Thoughts of how he was going to get home without having to explain what happened to him were haunting him. These tremulous ideas, which included questions of how to call his friends for a ride, were interrupted as a familiar guitar rift erupted from the deep hidden cargo pocket on his shorts.

“My phone! I have my phone!” Reaching to his pant pocket and retrieving the ringing device he couldn’t tell if his legs gave out, or if he had tripped over his own feet. Regardless, the grassy incline came up to meet him, and the feeling of falling and rolling downwards was all he knew before his world once again went black.

Pain greeted him as consciousness slowly returned, followed by his internal alarm system. The shooting pressure in his chest signaled warning signs that screamed: “I can’t breathe!” Thrashing about on the hard ground, he rolled himself onto his side with the little energy he had left. Gasping as the air returned to his lungs and the red hot pain in his body receded, Roman rested his heavy head on the grass and closed his eyes. Maybe the crash had been a little bit worse than he had originally thought.

With a crash, the nausea returned to his stomach, eliminating any relief he had felt moments before. Roman groaned and crawled to his feet, swaying, then steadying himself carefully. I have to get home. Thoughts pushed his feet forward.

The rain fell faster.

Every beat against him was like an echo of his racing heart. Even when he thought it impossible for his heart to beat louder, or faster, it would. Faster. Louder. Louder, faster. Fasterfasterfaster it seemed to race as Roman picked his way down the hill. The hill seemed to stretch out before him forever, the parking lot continuously running away from his reach.

Finally, he arrived, breathing heavily, his body’s sweat masked by the pouring rain. Thunder cracked. Moments later, lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the darkened streets with an eerie glow. His house, only blocks away from the skate park, seemed like miles away as Roman wandered down the twisting streets. Nobody was outside, the windows were all shut and the curtains tightly drawn. Even the trash that littered the streets seemed to rest in silent fury, watching Roman as he passed slowly by.

His house was the third one down the street, on the left, tucked between a towering square right house and a dilapidated wooden house, whose paint job had chipped long ago, and in which no one lived inside. Walking up the steps, Roman caught himself on the railing, dizzy. His head swam as he retrieved the key from under the carpet and unlocked the door.

Safe from the torrential downpour outside, Roman shook his head free of raindrops and pulled off his shoes. His board he deposited in the entryway, and silently he tiptoed to his room. Nobody else was home. He hoped.

Using all the effort he could muster, Roman crawled his way up to the second floor. A wave of dizziness nearly overwhelmed him as he reached the top. Just barely catching himself on the railing, Roman hunched over himself, his breath heaving, fighting the urge to throw up.

Letting the wave a nausea pass, Roman slowly found his way to the half bath near his room. Still not positive if anybody was home, Roman made sure to make as little noise as possible as he closed and locked the bathroom door behind him. Roman gently eased the bathroom door shut, and in the pitch black of the room, he reached blindly for the light switch. Managing to stub his toe soundly on the vanity cabinet along the way, he doubled over in pain again, groaning, once again resisting the overwhelming urge to uproot his insides.

Cursing under his breath, Roman managed to locate the light switch. The bathroom instantly illuminated in a blinding light. Closing his eyes and keeping them screwed shut, Roman supported himself on the bathroom counter and blindly searched for bath cloths and bandages for his cuts and bruises. Slowly, Roman drew his t-shirt over his face, dropping it in a bloody pile on the bathroom floor. Opening the mirror cabinet, he reached for the largest bottle of painkilling medicine, downing five of them in one large swallow.

Turning, Roman tried to look at the wounds on his arm in the mirror. Wincing, Roman uncapped the hydrogen peroxide bottle and poured it down his arm. It flowed into the semi-coagulated scrapes, causing small shooting pains to dig into his body. He grunted, clenching his teeth and doing his best to focus on anything but the pain. Roman cursed out loud, and then clenched his jaw. He had forgotten to remain quiet, and hoped to God no one was home.

Whimpering, he poured the rest of the bottle on his cuts. Only after the bottle was empty did he notice that he had bitten through his lip. He stumbled to the toilet, wrenched the lid open, and lost his lunch in the toilet bowl.

[msjr0119]

The Unexpected Roommate

Part 3

What happens when your roommate of many years falls in love and moves out unexpectedly? Drake Walker was in this situation, until his friends fiancée suggested that her friend moved in to replace her fiancé. The new roommate is causing tension already. Will they be able to survive living together? What’s the worse that could happen?

Drake x Riley

Leo x Olivia

Warnings: Swearing, tension, smut

A/N- So I spoke to @pedudley, she published a one shot with her characters doing a ‘truth and dare’ scene. We wrote it at the same time, and I reached out as I panicked that people would assume that I’ve used her idea. It’s totally different, just a similar idea and Paige is fine with it- best friends and great minds think alike 😆 This part and part 4 was originally just this part- however tumblr is saying that I’ve exceeded the word count 🤷‍♀️, so you all have two chapters posted back to back- SORRY! 😘

Tags- As always if you want to be removed please do let me know. I won’t be offended.

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @texaskitten30 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @cordonianroyalty @rainbowsinthestorm @jared2612 @desireepow-1986 @twinkle-320 @bebepac @drakewalkerisreal

******

As Riley answered his question, she witnessed a smile slowly creep up onto his face- believing that she would never see the day that Drake Walker smiled.

“I still don’t like you though...” She continued. “But....”

“But what?”

“I actually have plans for tonight. Maybe we could do it tomorrow instead?” Seeing disappointment on his face, she instantly felt guilty. She wasn’t saying to never to do this, she had wanted to make amends before he did- however, her friends were more important. More loyal. Fuck. “Or I could cancel? I see Daniel and Maxwell all the time..” Yes, cancel. Please cancel. Spend time with me. God I sound desperate. He thought to himself.

“It’s fine. You live with me. We can have drinks and food whenever.”

“Are you sure? I feel like I’m letting you down after you’ve made an effort. But I don’t like letting my friends down either. I’m sure they won’t mind. I can stay in... with you.”

“Honestly, it’s fine.” Providing a fake smile, his heart sunk- but he would never admit this to her.

“Okay.... I’ll erm. I will be back before my ‘curfew’.”

“You better be.” Smiling at him, she walked away shaking her head. Drake sat on the couch, not knowing what to do. Berating himself, that she had given him the final say for her plans- and he backed out of telling her what his heart truly desired.

****

Riley made her way to the bar, shaking her head she saw the two lovers had already ordered drinks. The amount of drinks that surrounded the table, was a sign of premature liver damage.

“Blossom! You’re here.”

“Hey, guys.” The two men looked at her, she was surprisingly quiet- in a daze. Not her usual self.

“What’s he done now?” Daniel demanded to know as he raised his eyebrows. Maxwell was aware of Drake’s attitude towards Riley- however Daniel had played it down. Daniel knew that Maxwell was a pussycat, but when it came to his friend who was like a sister to him, he wouldn’t hold back if someone hurt her.

“He... well he fucked a blonde all over the place last night. This morning. Whatever that doesn’t matter. He didn’t ask for my permission. Breaking his own rule...” Maxwell’s lips allowed an over exaggerated gasp to escape. “I hope you called him out on it.”

“No. I just put my old teddy bears and Barbie’s on his bed. She soon ran out.” Maxwell jumped up and high fived her, Daniel provided a smirk but her facial expression was still puzzling him.

“So why the long face?”

“He bought me a ‘La Perla’ set.”

“He did what?” The men asked in unison, both wondering what Drake was playing at.

“He bought me a bra and thong set... I mean that shit isn’t cheap. He seemed sincere with his apology but I still don’t trust him. One minute he despises me, then he’s nice. It’s just not normal...”

“Maybe he wants you to dress up for him?” Maxwell licked his lips, then mimicked a blowjob. Providing her friend with her own hand gesture he soon stopped. Afraid of what she may do if he was to carry on.

“Stop right there, Max. This discussion is ending right now!”

“Okay, fine. But you didn’t have to stick two fingers up at me.... or is that what Drake will be doing to you?” Unable to resist winding her up, he escaped to the bathroom quickly- convenient timing.

****

Drake had spent the night, wondering if she was using her prior plans as an excuse to avoid him. He wouldn’t blame her, he had been awful with her. Scrolling through social media, she appeared in the everlasting list of ‘people you may know’. His finger hovered above the ‘add friend’ button- deciding against it, he kept coming back to it. Every time he was tempted to just click it, but he thought that it would give her an excuse to argue with him. Looking at her profile, he shook his head- he clearly wasn’t her only victim for her infamous pranks. Checking out the photos, he needed to stop- he had a sudden erection. That was until he saw a photo of Riley and Olivia- just looking at his arch-enemy turned him off straight away. After a few hours, he made the decision to have a shower- as he had nothing better to do. Usually he wouldn’t mind being ‘home alone’ but for some reason he felt more lonely now than ever. As he entered, the water cascaded down his toned body- placing one hand on the tile, his other hand wrapped around his shaft. Stop thinking about her, she will kill you if she knows you’re wanking over her.

“Shit! I’m soooo sorry. I’m going to puke... I won’t be long. It was the toilet or the floor...” Jumping, he tried to cover himself up- she was in a state. Standing frozen, he didn’t know what to do. Carry on ‘showering’ or get out and hold her hair? The hair debate entered his mind- mainly concerned about her waking up with the sticky yet fowl substance in it. But also to keep her head upright to avoid her face planting the bowl.

“Couldn’t you have just puked in the trash bin? I’m trying to shower!”

“Oh. My. God. It stinks. I’m sorry.” Turning her head towards him, she had a little laugh to herself. “Are you jerking yourself off? Hey! You wasn’t lying was you?”

“No, I am not doing what you think I am! I am covering it up to protect my dignity as best as I can.”

“Whatevs... you are so totally doing it. I’m going to rename my dildo to ‘Drake’.”

“What the fuck are you on about? Can you please hurry up- and collapse in your bed....”

“Ewww I’ve puked in my hair...” knew it. Just fucking knew it. Great. Stripping her clothes off, she stumbled- before entering the shower with him.

“Do you not know about social distancing? Riley! Get to bed.”

“What’s up Drakey? Never shared a shower before.... at least it’ll save on the water bill.” Putting her thumbs up towards him, her drunk mind was now trying to calculate ways in cutting down the bills- whilst she washed her body. Looking down at his erection, she smirked again.

“Yup, definitely calling my dildo ‘Drake’...” Drake knew he was now trapped, believing that if he was civil- and possibly helped her with anything, the quicker he would be able to go to bed.

“What was it called before?” He asked, in his mind he was thinking all sorts of obscure names. Bob? Battery operated boyfriend- because that’s all she’ll ever get if she carries on treating men like shit. Peter as in Peter rabbit? Mr Big?

“Leo....”

“Leo?”

“Yeah, Liv called my dildo ‘Leo’. Apparently it’s the image of him. Personally, I can’t see it. I haven’t used ‘Leo’ since. It put me straight off.” Yeah, don’t blame you. What the actual fuck?

“Right, I’m going to wash your hair for you- then tuck you in bed.”

“Aw you do have a heart.” Trying to make a love heart shape with her fingers, she failed miserably. Drake turned her around, holding on to her with one hand he tried to keep a distance, he didn’t want to poke her- she kept slipping in the shower, making him nearly fall instead as his grip tightened onto her waist. If he was going down, he wasn’t going alone. Getting out of the shower, he held on to her- escorting her out too. Drying her body with the fluffy towel, she was swaying - making it difficult to help assist her. Carrying her to her bed, he laid her onto her side- hoping that she wasn’t going to be sick again. After a few minutes, he kissed Riley on the cheek and left her sleeping alone. Sweet dreams, pisshead.

****

The morning after, Drake decided to check on Riley before leaving for work. He had barely slept, mainly worrying that she was going to choke on her vomit- but then the short shower that they had shared was also lingering throughout his thoughts. Knowing that she was breathing, and was content- he left for work. Not that he wanted to, but he knew the sooner he got to work- the earlier he could finish and return home.

Later on in the day, he returned home- the apartment was as he had left it. Opening her door, she was still asleep. Sitting next to her, he needed to wake her up. Caressing her cheek, she didn’t stir- deciding to gently shake her, she fluttered her eyelashes at him. Still in a daze, she still felt slightly drunk believing that she was hallucinating. Smelling his cologne, and seeing his blurry face- she sighed heavily.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Fuck. He’s here. He’s on my bed.

“Drake! Get out!”

“Why?”

“Because I’m naked...” Pulling the duvet up as far as it could go, she was practically suffocating herself. “Remember you don’t like to see my - how did you describe it? Oh yeah. Flab.” Shaking his head, he was never going to hear the end of his hurtful words.

“Do you remember getting home last night?” Her eyes widened, she dread to think what had happened. The horror that was shown across her face, explained to him that she was clueless about the events after her night out.

“You came home, puked up then jumped in the shower with me. I carried you to your bed. There was no funny business. Anyway, it’s four o’clock- I think you better get up.”

“Four in the morning?”

“No. Afternoon. I’ve been to work and come back. I’ll order food and we can do what we planned if you’re up for it? There’s a match on.”

“Do I look like I watch sport?”

“Oh sorry. You’re probably one of those girls who likes to watch a film where the two main characters fall in love at the end.”

“Guilty.”

“Typical woman. I’ll get you some tissues- don’t want you ruining any make up.”

“It’s fine, Drake. Watch your game. I’ll have a shower then join you soon.”

“What drink do you want? I’ll get it ready for when you get out.”

“I’ve got wine, it’s in the fridge. Thank you, Drake.”

“No worries. Hurry up though.” Fuck why have I said that? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Before she could respond, he needed to think of an excuse for why he said that. “Because you don’t want your food to be cold.” Nodding, he smiled and swiftly left her- allowing her a bit of privacy to get out of bed. Making her way to the bathroom, she wished that she was able to walk in a straight line. Fucking Daniel, again. I need to stop drinking. Leaving the door slightly ajar, Drake couldn’t help himself but have a peek at her. Seeing her hair cascade down her back, he admired her body again as he did when she sabotaged his shower. God, she’s gorgeous. Stop looking at her Drake. Finally coming to his senses, he ordered the food and poured the drinks - waiting anxiously on the couch for Riley, he wanted to tell her the truth about what he thought about her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it.” Hearing her voice in the distance, it was a slight mumble as the noise from the tv was distracting him and was much closer.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear the door because of the game.”

“No worries. Hmm chinese. Good choice, roomie.” Bringing the food over to the table, they ate it together- both stealing glances from each other, both wondering if this was going to last. They spoke about simple things, to keep the conversation flowing with no awkwardness. Favourite food, phobias and fears, favourite vacations- were just some of the topics that they discussed. Riley decided to top up their drinks as they both gulped it in one, possibly needing Dutch courage to talk in a civil manner.

“Jesus, you cant even walk when you stick to the same drink.”

“I’m just a lightweight. You’d think that I’d be used to it working in a bar.”

“You work in a bar?”

“Yeah, with Daniel. He pulls in all the gays, and I flirt with the punters. It’s a real dive bar, so any custom is important.”

“I’ll have to come one day, just purely to annoy you and to distract you.”

“No. You’d just come for the free drinks. Because you know a person that works there.”

“Now you’ve offered free drinks, I’m definitely going to have to come.” Shaking her head, she knew that she would potentially get sacked if she provided Drake with whiskey all night on the house.

“So what do you do?” Sitting down next to him, she passed him the whiskey- waiting for him to elaborate. Intrigued as to what he did for a living. First impressions of him, was that he was a very closed off person- private. Unlike herself, who was an open book.

“I’m a mystery. That’s all you need to know.”

“C’mon Drake... tell me. I’ll ring Olivia and ask if not.”

“No!”

“Why no? Are you a serial killer? Or a drug dealer or something?”

“I just don’t like your friend. The answer is no. Plus, mind your own business.”

“You don’t like many people do you?”

“I hate her.”

“Like me.” Riley said this quietly, as her face faulted. Most people liked her, but Drake just had instant hate- deep down it hurt her slightly.

“Of course I’m going to hate you, you’re my roommate. Liv, she’s like the fucking devil.”

“You just don’t know her properly. Like you don’t know me.”

“I’d like to get to know you. I’m sorry. But you are annoying as fuck.”

“Maybe I am annoying. But so are you. Your teams losing, time for a change.” Reaching over him, she stole the remote and quickly changed the channel. Sex and the city, perfect.

“No! Not a chance! I’m not watching this shit. Put the fucking goddamn match back on.” Shooting off of the sofa, she ran towards her room shoving the remote in her bra- knowing he wouldn’t dare touch her whilst it was there.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Catching up to her, he pulled her back flush to his chest. Turning her around, his eyes never left hers.

“You’re a bit too close for comfort.” She could practically feel her heart attempting to leap out of her chest.

“Give me the remote, and I’ll let go of your waist.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll be holding on to you all night...”

“I pretty much doubt that, Drake.”

“You want to bet?” Moving his lips closer to her neck, his breath made her heart skip a beat- it also sent shivers down her spine. “Can you resist my lips, Riley?”

“Of course I can.” Whimpering, she wasn’t sure what to think. Deep down, she had always thought that he was handsome- but he was her roommate. Someone who hated her the previous day. Someone who was fucking a stranger in their shared accommodation. Kissing her neck gently, her body froze- his hands roamed her body, getting closer to her chest. Closing her eyes, she gulped at his soft touches.

“Your skin is so soft.... Riley.... I....” Swiftly removing the remote from her bra, he smirked- feeling smug with himself. “I win! Don’t fuck with me...no one turns the matches off!”

“You bastard!”

“Aw what’s up darling? Did you think that I was kissing you because I wanted to?” I actually really wanted more.

“I don’t know what to think with pricks like you! I knew tonight was too good to be true... why can’t you just be a normal human being?”

“Why can’t you ask for permission to turn the tv over?”

“It’s not the end of the fucking world!” Hearing a knock at the door, their bickering stopped almost immediately.

“Hey guys!”

“Leo?” They both shouted in unison, wondering why he was here. As soon as Olivia joined him, she eyed the two of them in front of her- attempting to study their body language.

“Woah, you two are close...” Leo stated as he nudged Olivia.

“Thought we’d drop by to see how you are both doing. Is there a problem? Have we come at a bad time?”

“I’m on top of the world, Liv. Living with a fucking prick like him is all I ever wanted in life. You have perfect timing! I’m so glad some normal human beings are here to socialise with me.” Drake gulped, now realising that he had been slightly petty.

“Living with an annoying bitch is all I ever wanted! So thanks for getting engaged guys. Beer, Leo?”

[ghost-in-the-hella]

19 with Victoria Chase and Chloe?

For whatever reason, I can’t seem to keep chaseprice stories short! Sorry this took so long, but I hope it’s worth it. I also immediately thought chaseprice when I saw that prompt (“According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”), so thanks for being on the same page with me there :) Unbeta’d and virtually unrevised despite how long it took me to write it, so please take it with a grain of salt.

Content warnings for misogynistic insults, underage drinking and drug use, and implied attempted sexual assault. Because teens in Arcadia Bay are awful to each other.

---

Chloe hasn’t seen Rachel since the first hour of the party. She stopped even getting texts from her about twenty minutes ago. She can already feel the familiar shapes of the argument they’re going to have tomorrow morning. Chloe will accuse Rachel of ditching her and ignoring her texts. Depending on how pissed she is, she might trot out the old dead horse about being abandoned by Max and flog that for a bit while Rachel fails to keep from rolling her eyes. Then Rachel will remind her about their agreement, that they’re both free agents and maybe if Chloe acted more like a free agent and less like a cuckolded wife she wouldn’t be so pissy all the time.

It’ll go back and forth for hours with Chloe whining about her abandonment issues and Rachel claiming that Chloe’s suffocating her, and at the end of it nothing will have changed. They’ll kiss and make up like they always do, but as soon as the next Vortex Club event comes around Rachel will insist on dragging Chloe and then she’ll ditch her in a crowd of people she hates and the whole cycle will start over again.

The whole thing is fucking exhausting, and Chloe’s sick of it. 

Not as sick as Victoria Chase is, though; damn. It’s a hell of a sight: the Queen Bitch of Blackwell teetering drunkenly on ill-advised high heels - possibly only still on her feet because of the bodies of people dancing around her - and looking like she’s contemplating puking in her purse. She looks awful. 

It would be more amusing if Rachel were there to make fun of her with Chloe. It would also be more amusing if it weren’t so painfully pathetic. Chloe’s way too sober to enjoy the sordid spectacle. Being the designated driver sucks ass, especially when the literal whole point of these parties is to get wasted. 

Chloe almost jumps out of her skin when her phone suddenly - finally - buzzes in her pocket.

Rachel: U still at the party?

Chloe scowls at her phone.

Chloe: of fucking course i am

Chloe: where else would i be??

Chloe: im ur fucking dd

Rachel: o right! Srry I already caught a ride

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

Rachel: c u 2morro tho

Rachel: 2 whales date? Not 2 early tho

Rachel: this hangover’s gona be a biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch

Rachel: luv u <3 <3 <3 xoxoxo

Rachel: xxx 

Rachel: ;P

Chloe buries her phone in her pocket, fuming. She can actually feel the anger rising off of her skin like steam. Obviously there’s no reason for her to continue being a designated driver if Rachel’s already fucked off with whatever Blackwell jock or cheerleader she’s decided to rail tonight. Chloe’s free to crash on the couch tonight with the rest of the drunk losers. Pass out in the bathtub maybe. There’s tons of booze in the kitchen; she should start there. Stoners are usually in the basement; they shouldn’t be hard to sniff out. Maybe if she’s lucky she’ll find the folks who’re always doing coke in some random bedroom or office and score a noseful. It’s not like she’s got classes in the morning. She can afford to live a little, as long as she’s not actually paying for it.

Chloe starts to push her way through the crowd to the kitchen.

“Watschh where yrr fffuckin goin…” slurs a messy but recognizable voice as a hand grips Chloe’s upper arm.

Jesus Christ, Victoria’s even more wasted than Chloe thought at first glance. Her hand on Chloe’s arm might be the only thing keeping her upright at the moment, which is the only reason why Chloe doesn’t immediately tear herself away. 

“Careful, Vicky; poverty might be contagious.” Chloe attempts to pry Victoria’s fingers from around her arm to no avail.

The idiot jock standing behind Victoria laughs at that, but Victoria just looks confused. And drunk. So very, very drunk.

“Ffffug you, Chhhloe,” Victoria slurs out.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Wow, you must be shitfaced. That was practically my real name!” She carefully shoves Victoria back off of her arm as the jock moves to steady Victoria by holding onto her waist.

“C’mon, babe,” he says, leaning close to her ear. He grins at Chloe and winks like he thinks she’s in on some kind of conspiracy with him, which immediately pisses Chloe off. “I’ve got it from here,” he informs her.

Victoria groans something inarticulate and tries to push the jock away, but she ends up just stumbling back into his stupidly broad chest. She really shouldn’t get so drunk and wear such high heels at the same time; clearly, it’s a dangerous combination.

“Dude, I don’t think she wants to go with you,” Chloe says as calmly as she can. She really doesn’t want to get involved. She wants to get drunk and stoned and so blitzed out of her mind that she forgets all about being pissed at Rachel. She doesn’t want to get sucked into whatever drama Victoria’s got brewing tonight. But she also really doesn’t want to watch a drunk girl get mauled by some entitled meathead, even if said drunk girl is a royal pain in her ass. 

“Nah, she’s good. Just needs some fresh air. C’mon, Tori, let’s go for a walk.”

“Don’ ffffuggin call me Tori,” Victoria growls, tugging her arm out of his too-firm grip and nearly falling right off her ridiculous and undoubtedly overpriced heels. “Iss Victoria.”

The creep ignores her and tugs on her arm again, toppling her into his body once more. “It’s cool,” he attempts to assure Chloe. “We’re friends. I’ll get her home safe.”

“She definitely doesn’t want to go with you. Let her go.”

“Dude, be cool! She’s just being a bitch. You know what Tori’s like.” He holds Victoria’s wrists to curtail her squirming.

“Fuggoff!”

Chloe cracks her knuckles loudly enough to get the jock’s attention. “I’ve got better things to do with my left hand tonight than break it on your nose, but if you don’t unhand her in the next five seconds I’ll do it anyway.”

That gives the jock pause, but he doesn’t look like he quite believes her. “You wouldn’t.”

Chloe shrugs. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask Logan why his nose slants to the right? Although he’ll probably lie. Ask his ex-girlfriend; she’ll tell you the truth.”

---

As Chloe guides a stumbling and incessantly bitching Victoria through the dark toward her truck, she silently curses every decision in her life that led her to this moment. It’s actually not that different from drunk-walking Rachel home after a party, except that when Victoria keeps touching her boob it’s probably accidental. Probably.

“Where’ss Nathan?” Victoria whines, head lolling onto Chloe’s shoulder and smearing a healthy quantity of expensive makeup into her favorite Firewalk shirt. Which is fine. Not like Chloe can’t just steal another one next time they have a 2010 tour. Time travel’s a thing, right?

“I have no idea where Prescock is. Surprised he’s not doing shots out of your cleavage.”

Victoria’s trying to text, but she keeps almost dropping her phone. “Where are theese bisches?” Victoria grumbles as her manicured fingers jab and swipe at the screen of her phone with the dexterity of a toddler with two handfuls of butter. “Sposdt to be my frens…” 

Victoria’s entire focus is on her phone when it should really be on walking. Chloe tugs her upright and tries to steer her for the umpteenth time. “Can it wait til we’re in the truck at least?”

Victoria grinds to a halt and finally tears her eyes from her phone. “M’not gedding into that… that…” Victoria flails at Chloe’s truck and nearly falls over. “Deathtrap.”

“You had to get a tetanus shot to live in the dorms, right? You’ll be fine.” Chloe grips Victoria’s elbow with one hand to keep her upright and wrangles the passenger door open with the other. “Go on, get in.”

Victoria glares at Chloe foggily. “Are you khhidnappng me, Price?”

“...That’s a joke, right?”

Victoria whacks Chloe solidly in the sternum with her phone. “B’cause I’ll haf you know, my frens will put your assss in jail like that.” Victoria tries and fails to snap her fingers, then stares at them as if she cannot comprehend why they are not obeying her.

Chloe rubs at her sore sternum in annoyance. “Yeah, well, maybe your ‘frens’ should be the ones getting your drunk ass safely back to the dorms instead of abandoning you and letting random creepers paw at you. Then maybe I could get my drunk on in peace instead of wasting my weekend cleaning your puke out of my truck.”

Chloe’s expecting some pushback. Victoria hasn’t even touched her truck, much less puked in it. What she isn’t expecting is for Victoria to shove her phone in Chloe’s face. “You texx thm.” Victoria reaches for the door handle, yanks the door open, and unsteadily clambers into Chloe’s truck.

“Ow, what the fuck! You want me to text your friends?”

“Tell’m yer kidnappin me.”

“Uh, okay, no, I’m not doing that. But I can text your friends if there’s someone you’d rather get a ride with.”

Chloe carefully shuts Victoria’s door and walks around her truck to the driver’s side, thumbing through Victoria’s message history. She tries Nathan first, even though she can see that Victoria’s last ten messages to him have gone unanswered.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Nathan: whothFUCKisthis

Victoria: a good samaritan. seriously tho your friend is halfway to passed out, can you help?

Nathan: fuckoffBITCH

Victoria: god why does victoria even like you?

She tries Courtney next.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Courtney: I don’t know, can Victoria not call my boyfriend a MAN WHORE?

“We’re 0 for 2, Victoria. What’s the name of that blonde girl you’re always hanging around with?”

“Sweetie…”

“Um, what?”

“Goddddd you’re fuckn incomph-- incump-- incompetant. Sweet. T.”

“I have no idea what you’re-- Oh.” Jesus, the girl is literally in Victoria’s phone as Sweet-T. Gaaaaaaayyyy. 

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Sweet-T: Victoria? Victoria Chase?

Sweet-T: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Sweet-T: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Sweet-T: Tell that bitch good luck. 

Sweet-T: Actually wait don’t.

Sweet-T: Tell her to choke.

Sweet-T: Btw Taylor lost her phone.

“Uhh, looks like ‘Sweet-T’ lost her phone. And it’s fallen into the hands of someone who completely hates your pretentious ass; no big surprise there.”

Chloe starts texting Victoria’s contacts at random as Victoria sulks. Most people don’t even respond. The responses she does get are… not encouraging.

Zach: sup biiiiiiiiiiitttcccccccchhhhhh yeah i’ll give vicky a ride ON MY DICK

Hayden: new fone who dis

Brooke: Who is this and how did you get my number? Don’t ever text me again.

Dana: I gott a ride w Jules srry

Juliet: Already back at the dorms. Good luck I guess. 

Logan: fukk that bisch wut

“Well, Victoria, looks like none of your friends are coming to help. So you can either let me give you a ride back to campus, or you can pass out on a couch inside and hope for the best.”

“What th hell djou say to them??”

“Just that you needed a safe ride to the dorms. That’s all.”

“Bullsshhhitt. You pissed them off.”

Chloe laughs out loud at that. “I pissed them off?? You pissed them off by being a gigantic asshole!”

“M’ noddan asshole.”

“Oh, no? Well…” Chloe holds up Victoria’s phone and waves it in front of her face. “According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”

Which is how Chloe ends up comforting a sobbing Victoria Chase in a stranger’s driveway and wishing she’d never been born.

---

Chloe: dude. Srsly. Fuck u for abandoning me at that fucking vc party.

Rachel: chloe?

Rachel: wat timesit?

Rachel: w happnd?

Chloe: its 3am

Chloe: and victoria FUCKING chase is passed out on me

Rachel: ur joking

Rachel: omg

Rachel: pls take a pic

Chloe: this isnt funny rach

Rachel: it’s fucking hilarious!

Chloe: its SAD.

Rachel: Wait so

Rachel: did you fuck her?

Chloe: WHAT????

Chloe: NO!!!!!

Rachel: Oh good bc I don’t think there’s enough bleach in the world to clean your soul after fucking victoria chase

Chloe: she’s drunk AF

Chloe: her friends ditched her 

Chloe: and i kinda called her an asshole

Chloe: so she cried on my shoulder until she passed out

Chloe: and now i’m trapped

Rachel: Poor baby.

Rachel: Chew your arm off?

Chloe: not funny.

Rachel: Again, totally funny.

Chloe: Srsly tho, what should i do???

Rachel: idk

Rachel: sneak out?

Chloe: we’re in my truck

Rachel: hahahahahahahaha

Rachel: of course you are

Rachel: so wake her bitch ass up!

---

Victoria Chase snores. Nothing in the world could have prepared Chloe for that knowledge. She also drools, which is unfortunate for the state of Chloe’s jacket. Not that it’s the cleanest thing in the world anyway, but still. It’s the principle of the thing.

Victoria’s normally immaculate hair is in a state of total chaotic disarray. At least half of her makeup is gone, and what remains is smeared artlessly all over her face. She smells like a brewery. Chloe’s arm has fallen asleep under the weight of her head. Chloe envies it. The sweet release of sleep would be infinitely preferable to the intense awkwardness of being conscious right now.

The moonlight paints Victoria’s face in delicate shades of pale, highlighting the refined angles of her cheekbone, her jawline, her nose. She’s snoring and drooling and messy and the most utterly awful person; it shouldn’t be possible for her to be beautiful in this moment.

And yet. And yet.

Chloe should shove her awake. She should push Victoria off her shoulder, buckle up both of their seatbelts, and deposit her safely back at the dorms (because even though Victoria’s an objectively horrible person, that doesn’t mean that Chloe is). Chloe should abandon ship, let Victoria sleep it off in the front of her truck while Chloe returns to the party and drinks until she can’t remember what Victoria looks like in the moonlight. Maybe if she drinks enough, by the time she’s sober enough to drive Victoria will have sobered up and found her own way home.

Victoria makes a sleepy sort of grumbling sound and shifts against Chloe’s shoulder, draping an arm over Chloe’s middle and snuggling close. Her hair tickles Chloe’s neck and jaw as it sticks out at peculiar angles, and Chloe wants to laugh or possibly die. There’s really nowhere else for Chloe’s arm to go, so it ends up wrapped around Victoria. Victoria lets out a sound that’s disturbingly close to a contented sigh.

“Hey... Vic?”

“Mphgmhm?”

“Um… Are you aware that you’re cuddling me like I’m your long-lost childhood teddy bear?”

“Grhmphgm.”

“Uh. ‘Kay. Long as you know.”

“Mphkm.” Victoria nuzzles into Chloe’s shoulder, squeezing her tighter. Chloe awkwardly pats her side and Victoria sighs again.

“Hey, uh… I’m sorry about what I said before. I mean, not about you being an asshole, ‘cause I’m not gonna lie. But about your friends. I’m… sure your friends do like you, really.”

Victoria shrugs a little, frowning delicately. “Dsnmttr. Sleeb.”

Sleep. Okay. That’s theoretically possible. Chloe’s slept in more uncomfortable positions in this very truck, after all. So she closes her eyes and rests her head against the back of her seat, and she listens to the steady rhythm of Victoria’s breathing until the world begins to fade into a comforting void.

Shit’s going to be awkward in the morning. But, well. That can wait until the morning.

[video-killed-the-radio-host]

Nurture and Nature Ch8

Short chapter but it was amusing to write

Dead…. The words chilled Earl to the core. But wait-

"What do you mean he's been dead a year?" Earl can feel his neck start to cramp from being twisted. "That's not true."

"I'll kill you." His captor threatens. "I'll kill you right here."

“If you kill me now then we’ll never be able to find him.”

The blade is pressed more into Earl’s throat .He could feel blood pouring freely now. 

“Shut the hell up.” They move the blade a fraction of an inch and make a cut on the sun darkened skin. 

“Mika?” A small voice asks.

Earl’s attacker-Mika- turns towards the voice, pressure easing up on the blade. “Get out of here Donny.”

“Who is that?” The small voice is closer, still hidden behind Mika.

“Donavan I said get out of here.” 

"Mika! He's bleeding!" 

“Donny-”

Earl makes a gurgling noise, making Mika glare back at him. He’s starting to feel lightheaded and wouldn’t be able to stand upright much longer.

“Mika he needs help. Let him go.” The small voice is begging now. 

Mika sighs and lowers the blade. “Fine. But I’m not helping him.”

“Please?”

Mika is no longer facing him and his vision is spotty so he can’t make out their reaction. The last thing he remembers is the knife pinning him to the painting being removed before he crumples to the floor. 

-----.-----

Earl comes too hours later. It’s dark out now. He sits up a little and looks around. Where is the angry harpy? Who was the small voice?  

“Good. You’re finally awake you lazy elf.”

Ah. So there’s the angry harpy. Earl turns towards their voice, squinting in the candlelight. Their expression is still guarded but they look less likely to attack again. 

“Good morning to you too.”

“It isn’t morning you dolt.”

“Mika be nice.” The small voice is back. 

“I am being nice.”

“You called him lazy.”

“He slept for almost twelve hours.” 

“Throat injuries take time to recover from.” Earl speaks up.

Mika turns their gaze back to Earl. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

"I'm trying to find Kevin." Earl says slowly. Carefully. 

Mika's expression hardens as they straighten askew feathers in their wings. "Kevin is dead just like every one else. He isn't coming back because he was murdered by filthy humans."

"No. He isn't."

"What do you know? You're just a stupid elf who was caught snooping around somewhere you don't belong." 

"Did you see him die?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did. You. See. Him. Die?"

"No one survives being taken by humans."

“I know he’s still alive.” Earl unwraps the makeshift bandage from his throat and waves his fingers over the cut, healing it. He has to believe that. It's selfish but he refused to just give up and be the reason Kevin dies. 

“Why do you keep saying that?”

Before Earl can answer, a small face comes into view. It’s tanned and dotted with red and black scales that glint in the candle light. He had the same kind eyes as the man beside Kevin in the painting. Their son? This must be the Donny Mika keeps speaking too. 

"I think he's telling the truth." Donny announces. 

Mika looks at the young Nãga. "That doesn't mean we can trust him."

"I didn't say that." Donny folds his hands over his stomach. "But I don't think he's lying to us."

Mika cuts their eyes at Earl. "If he's alive where is he?"

Earl sighs softly and looks down at his hands. "We had rescued him from the  humans….he stayed with us for a week or so and then he was taken again."

A small green bird on Mika's head that Earl hadn't noticed chirped angrily at him. Mika reaches up and pets it gently before turning a cold gaze to Earl once more. "You had him safe and let him go again?"

The deadly calm of their voice scared Earl more than when they had a dagger to his throat. "It wasn't on purpose. I left him alone to-”

“You left him alone?!”

“Well yes because-”

“Why would you do that knowing what he’s been through?”

Earl half expects them to pull a blade on him again. “If you would let me finish I would appreciate it.” 

Mika starts to argue but put their hands up when Donny gives them a look. 

“He twisted his ankle and fell so I went to get something to help but when I got back, he was gone. I was away for three minutes, five max. I don’t know what happened but it was the humans. It has to be." Earl runs his hands through his hair. "I need to get him back. I-"

"What are you going to do once you get him back? And that's if you can. You couldn't even fight me off and I'm seventeen."

"Mika." Donny says softly. "I'm tired."

Mika looks down at him and their expression softens greatly. "Let's get you to bed then." They stand and pick Donny up. The child wraps his tail around their arm, snuggling into their shoulder. Mika smiles softly at him before looking at Earl. "You can stay here. I'll deal with you in the morning."

"Um….thanks."

-----.-----

Mika settles Donny on the wide bed that once belonged to their parents before sitting next to them. Stupid elf and his stupid ideas. No one survives humans. Stupid stupid stupid-

"Mika?"

"Yes?" They stop tugging at their feathers. 

"I think we should help him." He leans against them and idly runs his hand through their wing. 

"Why?"

"I think he doesn't mean us harm. I think he really cares about what happens to Kevin."

"You think so?" Unless he only says he does because he wants something. 

"I do. We can't just send him out on his own."

"We could.'

 "I want to help him."

Mika sighs softly. "Okay. Sleep. And we'll decide tomorrow."

[moonb-eam]

skater boy au part i

i deleted this by accident!! trying to figure out how to fix it when the “keep reading” function wasn’t working!!

but this was a prompt fill for an anon, for number 40 on the ship starters!

(i saw that video of max riding around the streets of paris on a skateboard and i thought.....interesting.....eliott on a skateboard.....you might say.....he was a skater boy....)

that was where the inspo for this prompt fill came from asdfjk

i hope you like it, anon!!!

no. 40 “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile at me?”

Lucas has his headphones in, volume high, and he’s sitting on a set of concrete steps, eyes glaring into the back of Yann’s head.

Glaring because Yann is taking forever, even though he was the one who suggested that Lucas meet him at the skatepark before they grabbed lunch. But when Lucas arrived, he’d just waved, and skated away. Now Yann is rolling back on forth on his board, casual as you please, talking like he’s got all day.

And while the June sunshine is warm and pleasant on Lucas’s face, it’s been almost fifteen minutes and Lucas is hungry. He’s about five seconds away from marching over to Yann and forcibly removing him from the park.

Because Lucas is hungry. And he’s bored. It has nothing to do with the fact that Yann is talking to Eliott fucking Demaury.

Lucas watches with narrowed eyes as Yann says something that makes Eliott laugh, ducking his head down towards his chest. He’s wearing a snapback, leaning against his upright board in a way that makes the muscles on his arms stand out. Lucas can’t be sure but it looks like he has a new tattoo. Something that might be music notes. He’s so perfect it physically hurts.

Fuck’s sake.

What is your problem with Eliott, Yann had asked him a few weeks ago. Why do you hate him?

I don’t hate him, Lucas had responded, which was true, despite how Lucas was always insulting Eliott about something, always making fun of him.

It’s not hate. It’s so completely the opposite of that, so far into another galaxy, but Lucas also doesn’t trust him. Someone who is as good-looking, charming, and popular as Eliott Demaury must be an asshole. There must be something up with him, at least some sort of unbearable entitlement that comes from the whole world being in love with you. Lucas sees it all the time; in the way teachers give Eliott homework extensions without any fuss, in the way the cafeteria workers always give Eliott extra noodles at lunch, in the way a legion of fans follow Eliott around the school, sighing at his every step. He gets treated like a fucking prince. 

And Lucas won’t be another face in the sea of Eliott’s admirers. He won’t. He can’t.

So it’s up to Lucas to keep reminding Eliott that, actually, he ain’t shit, because clearly no one else is going to do it. And if Lucas is able to hide himself, hide his eyes and his laugh and his blush and how he can barely control those things around Eliott, then all the better.

It would just be so much easier if Yann wasn’t friends with him.

As if they can hear this thoughts, both Yann and Eliott turn to look at Lucas, Yann grinning in a way that makes Lucas nervous.

What? He mouths, frowning at them.

Yann turns to say something to Eliott, head bent low, and Lucas watches as Eliott’s brow furrows, his fingers tapping at his lips in a nervous gesture Lucas has become all too familiar with.

Not that he’s been looking. Lucas is just observant. Very observant.

Eliott glances back at Lucas. His hand is back at his side, but his eyebrows are still furrowed, eyes so focused they make Lucas shift awkwardly on the spot. He’s never been the centre of Eliott’s attention like this, has never had those infamous eyes so focused on himself. It makes his chest feel too tight for his lungs.

For no reason at all, Lucas flips him off.

Eliott grins, wide and crooked, as sudden and sharp as lightning.

He drops his board back down to the ground, he’s stepping onto it, Yann calls something after him, and Lucas realizes he’s coming over; Eliott is skating over to where Lucas is sitting, wide grin still in place.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Lucas pauses his music and takes his headphones out.

“Hi,” Eliott says, coming to a stop in front of him. He kicks his board up and catches it with one hand, leaning it back against his leg.

Lucas raises an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Eliott laughs and shrugs at the same time, a combination of gestures so at odds with Eliott’s outward appearance, with the black clothes and tattoos and intimidating model-esque height. “Yann said you looked bored.”

“I am bored.” Lucas winds his headphones into a ball and stuffs them into his pocket. “I want to go eat, but apparently Yann needs another fucking hour to roll around on a wooden plank.”

Eliott throws a hand out to the park. “You mean this isn’t exciting for you? Your standards are so high, Lallemant. Would you rather be at an opera?”

“I would just rather not spend my time watching stupid boys fall onto the pavement, thanks.”

“That’s funny. I thought you’d be used to it now.” At Lucas’s frown, Eliott adds, “Having boys fall for you.”

Lucas bites down on his cheek. Hard. “Is that supposed to be a compliment of some sort?” Lucas leans back onto his hands. “If it is, I think everyone might seriously be overselling your charm.”

“Oh, everyone? Everyone talks about how charming I am?”

Lucas rolls his eyes. He’s getting his bearings back, taking shallow breaths so Eliott doesn’t notice, but he’s thrown off—he’s not as quick as he usually is. “As if you don’t know.”

Eliott’s shrugs again, and his shoulders stay rounded forwards, his whole body hunching. “Yeah, I hear some things. I don’t know why…” Eliott huffs and runs one hand through his hair. The motion makes his bicep bunch up in a terribly appealing way, but Lucas barely notices, too busy watching Eliott’s face, watching a complicated series of expressions pass over it.

It makes him wonder.

“Maybe you’re right.” Eliott says. “I’m not that charming. Or at least, not charming to the right people.”

Lucas blinks. He’s not even completely sure what they’re talking about anymore. “Who are the right people?”

“Arnaud, obviously.”

Arnaud. The middle-aged security guard at their school with the perpetual scowl on his face, who seems to hate teenagers more than anything else in the world.

Lucas bites down on his cheek again, but he’s too late, there’s a runaway smile he can’t catch.

Eliott notices.

“Oh my god.” His eyes widen dramatically. His hands fly up to his chest and his board clatters down to the ground. “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile at me?”

Lucas is fighting himself and he is losing. He can feel the way his mouth is twitching at the corners. He tilts his face up towards the blue sky, shaking his head. “Must be an alternate universe.”

“Well.” Eliott’s voice is quiet, his next words coming out in a rush. “Is this an alternate universe where you’ll agree to go on a date with me?”

Lucas snaps his head back down, so quickly a sharp pain shoots up his neck.

What.

Eliott has his hands in his pockets, eyes moving from the ground, up to Lucas, and back down.

“What.” Lucas says with absolutely no inflection. His chest is about to split open. He might faint. “Eliott, what are you—”

“So, yeah.” Eliott interrupts him, clearing his throat, moving his hands out from his pockets, then immediately stuffing them back in. “I, uh. I was wondering if you…maybe, uh, wanted to go on a date.” There’s a pause. “Together. If that wasn’t obvious.”

Lucas’s entire world has just been turned on its axis and he’s sure his mouth is hanging open, because what the hell is going on? He and Eliott don’t even, they don’t—

“But we hate each other,” Lucas blurts out. Eliott frowns at that, and Lucas’s voice rises an octave. “Don’t we?”

“No. At least, I don’t.” Eliott’s board is slowly rolling away from him, rattling towards a downward ramp, but neither of them notice. “I always thought it was—” A self-conscious cough. “I always thought that was flirting? Like, this whole time I thought we were flirting. Were we not flirting?”

Flirting. Christ on a cross, maybe Lucas has slipped into another dimension by accident, because surely this isn’t happening to him.

They stare at each other, incomprehension hanging between them; Lucas still in shock, Eliott looking increasingly uncomfortable.

“If you’re not interested,” Eliott starts, voice resigned, shoulders drooping, and no, Lucas doesn’t like that, he’s not totally sure what’s happening, but he doesn’t like that, “then that’s fine, obviously, I wouldn’t expect you to—”

“Oh my god.” Lucas interrupts him loudly, hands stretched out in front of him. “Eliott what the fuck, I’m not going to say no.”

 Eliott stops. Blinks. “No?”

“No. Fucking hell. You—why would I say no?”

Eliott’s hands fly out to his sides, “I don’t know! Because you don’t like me! Because you thought we were actually arguing? That we hated each other?”

Lucas groans. “Oh, no. Eliott.” He drops his face into his hands. He doesn’t want to say this, but he thinks he might have to. “Eliott.” There’s an uncontrollable giggle bubbling out of his chest, like the pressure there is starting to lessen, pieces of painful longing being released with giddy breaths. “I’ve had a crush on you for months.” Lucas says helplessly into his palms, as if the words can be caught there, kept secret in the creases of his skin rather than reaching Eliott’s ears.

Eliott’s voice is quiet when he says, “Months?”

“Almost a year,” Lucas says, because dignity is something other people have. “Me and literally everyone else on the planet. So.”

“I don’t care about everyone else.”

Lucas scoffs, lifting his head from his hands. “Please.”

“I’m serious.” Eliott’s eyes are intense on him; shards of icy blue that Lucas can feel under his skin. How many times has Lucas thought about those eyes, and then immediately beat himself up for thinking about those eyes? “I’m asking you out, Lucas. Because I like you. I really do.”

“What the fuck.”

Eliott frowns. “Okay, you just said you’re not saying no but I have to say this doesn’t really feel like a yes.”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

“See? You’re still being mean to me.”

Lucas abruptly stands from his perch, clambers down the few stairs separating him from Eliott until he’s right in front of him. Eliott’s hands are rising like he’s worried Lucas is about to tackle him.

Lucas is considering it, he won’t lie, but he needs to—

He needs this moment to happen again. He needs to say it because it’s Eliott and Lucas has been pretending that he’s not in love with Eliott for so long.

In love—

“Ask me again.” He demands, eyes boring into Eliott’s, cheeks flushing, hands practically shaking at his sides. “Eliott. Ask me again.”

Eliott nods once. Twice. “Okay.” His hands lower, hanging limply at his sides. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Yes.” Lucas says evenly. Clearly. 

A wide, pleased smile blooms across Eliott’s face. “That’s good,” he says in a small voice, and Lucas realizes Eliott is reaching for him, fingertips seconds away from touching Lucas’s t-shirt and he knows he will absolutely combust if Eliott touches him—it’s all too overwhelming already, Lucas is a shooting star afire with impossibility and he is burning—so he slips away, dancing past Eliott towards the rest of the park. 

Eliott is staring after him, hands frozen in the air, fingers extended out.

A shiver wracks Lucas’s entire body when he thinks about those hands touching him, those fingers dancing across his skin. Not now. Oh god, not now. But maybe…

“When do you want to go on a date?” He asks, slowly walking backwards.

“Tonight.” Eliott says immediately and Lucas laughs, his chest cracked wide open, breaths caught on the breeze. “Are you free tonight?”

Lucas is not free tonight. He and Yann were going to play video games but really, he and Yann play videos games every Saturday, so.

“I might be.” He replies easily, adopting Eliott’s shrug for himself, acting like he’s not burning from the inside out, like Eliott’s gaze isn’t an ice cube sliding across his heated skin, melted drops trailing down his back. 

“I’ll message you.” Eliott calls out, and Lucas flips him off, just because he can, before he turns his back on Eliott, half-running over to where he can see Yann, leaning against a railing with his arms crossed and a smug expression on his face.

“I knew you liked him,” Yann croons when Lucas gets close enough.

“Whatever.”

He and Yann have barely made it out of the skatepark, Lucas bitching at Yann about how hungry he is, about how Yann definitely has to pay for his lunch now, when his phone buzzes with a DM from Instagram.

Lucas opens it.

srodluv: hi 

srodluv: do you still want to go on a date with me?

srodluv: how does 8 p.m. sound? i’ll pick you up?

lucallemant: yeah no thanks i changed my mind

srodluv: D:

lucallemant: ew don’t use the capital D face

srodluv: D: D: D:

lucallemant: 8 is fine

lucallemant: i’m so excited

lucallemant: when you say pick me up

lucallemant: you better mean a car

lucallemant: or walking

lucallemant: not a skateboard

srodluv: :D

lucallemant: eliott

srodluv: :D :D :D

[unbreakablejemmasimmons]

#3 of the winter prompts.

03. i watch kids teach you how to skate because you’re a terrible skater

For such a small town, the parking lot of the Roswell Square Mall in December still managed to be a shitshow. Alex huffed out a frustrated breath as another car beat him to a parking space for the third time. Normally, he’d do all his shopping online, but he’d been too distracted, and the holiday had snuck up on him. There wasn’t time to wait for shipping.

Normally, he didn’t have many people to buy gifts for at all, he thought as he pulled into a spot in the very back corner of the parking lot. There was certainly no annual Manes family gift exchange to consider. But in early December, Liz had put her foot down. They were all too tense, working themselves too hard trying to find a way to bring Max back, and dammit, she was going to make sure they all got to experience at least a little holiday cheer in the form of a Secret Santa.

Alex had breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he’d pulled Isobel’s name out of the empty water pitcher at the Crashdown. Sure, he’d have to spend more than he’d like to satisfy her elegant tastes, but he’d dreaded choosing Michael’s name. What do you get for the alien who doesn’t want anything you have to offer? They’d managed to cobble together a friendship, but Alex wasn’t sure what he could come up with to give to Michael that didn’t feel at once too intimate and not intimate enough.

No, even difficult-to-please Isobel was definitely the safer choice.

Inside the mall, he weaved his way through crowds of frazzled moms and unaccompanied teens clutching their Orange Julius’ and Auntie Anne’s, ending up browsing housewares at Nordstrom. He finally settled on an abstract vase, figuring he could bring over flowers every now and then to fill it. Isobel’s house could use a touch of life these days.

He was on his way toward the mall entrance, Nordstrom bag in hand, when he spotted it. Spotted him, rather. 

Michael, right in the middle of the temporary ice rink set up next to the food court. Michael, with ice skates strapped to his feet. Michael, gesticulating wildly with both hands for balance before falling hilariously, beautifully, on his ass.

Alex couldn’t stop being drawn to him if he tried.

He approached the edge of the rink, setting down his bag and leaning both elbows on the plastic barrier that separated the ice from the mall’s tile floor, and he watched.

“Told you I’m no good at this,” Michael groused, slipping backward and forward a bit as he heaved himself to his feet. At first, Alex wasn’t sure who he was talking to, until a kid who couldn’t be older than 13 skated around Michael in a perfect arc.

“That’s ‘cause your balance sucks,” the kid said, earning a glare from Michael.

“Yeah, no shit.” He grimaced. “I mean, no duh.”

The kid rolled his eyes. “You can say shit; I’m not five.” He gestured at Michael. “Try again.” 

To Alex’s surprise, Michael did as he was told, shakily turning and skating a few feet in the other direction. The kid nodded encouragingly as Michael approached the ledge on the opposite side of the rink from where Alex stood. By the time Michael got there, grasping the plastic barrier for dear life, Alex could no longer hear the conversation between the two. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“Weird, right?” came a voice to his left. He looked over in time to see Liz skating smoothly in his direction, coming to a stop with a little flourish as she reached him. 

Alex quirked an eyebrow. “You mean, the fact that you and Michael are here ice skating together, or the fact that he’s getting skating lessons from some random sarcastic teenager?”

Liz let out a laugh, and it was a balm to Alex’s heart. It had been a rare sound lately, and while her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, it was still a welcome sight. 

“He wouldn’t listen to me at all, but this snarky kid started teasing him and I think it hurt his pride. He had to let him show him a few moves.”

“And you two are… what, practicing your ice dancing routine for the next winter Olympics?” He frowned, unable to resist scanning the rink to see who else might be there with them. “Is, uh–”

Liz leaned on the barrier across from him, catching his eye. “Maria and Michael broke up,” she said softly, as if she was the one who was psychic. “It was for the best, for all parties involved. But now he can’t exactly head over to the WIld Pony after we finish up in the lab every night, and I’d rather him not drink himself sick alone in his trailer. Not when he’s been doing so much better lately. So I’ve been brainstorming some non-whiskey-or-acetone-related ways to help him blow off steam.” 

“Like ice skating,” Alex said, proud of how normal his voice sounded even as he processed so much new information. 

Liz nodded. “Last night Rosa got him to make Christmas ornaments with her. Little green alien heads wearing Santa hats and UFOs pulled by reindeer. Tonight, I thought we’d try ice skating.”

They both looked over in time to see Michael sprawled spectacularly across the ice, a scowl on his face. The kid giggled, but still held out a hand to help him up. 

“As you can see, it’s going about as well as could be expected,” Liz said. 

Across the ice, Michael had pulled himself to his feet with the kid’s help, and rubbed one hand idly over his hip as if it had broken his fall. Then he looked over and met Alex’s gaze. Alex could see him exhale sharply, then mutter something to the kid. The kid gave Alex an appraising glance, then shrugged, grasping Michael’s elbow with both hands and helping guide him across the rink. 

“Who’s your chauffeur, Mikey?” Liz asked with a laugh as they approached. Alex felt thrown off balance by the dichotomy of Michael’s jerky, inexpert skating and the way he still managed to look like every one of Alex’s dreams come to life, but he tried to muster a chuckle anyway. 

“This is…” Michael began, just a few feet away.

“Curtis,” the kid spoke up. Then, to Liz: “You should get your friend some skating lessons for Christmas.” 

She laughed again. “What do you charge?” 

Curtis cocked his head to the side. “You couldn’t afford me. See ya!” He darted off across the ice, leaving the three of them in a close huddle at the edge of the rink. 

“Alex,” Michael said, sounding a little out of breath. Alex presumed it was from the effort exerted trying to stay upright on skates. 

“Hey.” 

“I was just filling in Alex on you and Rosa’s arts and crafts nights,” Liz said. “Did she say popcorn garland or cut-out snowflakes was next?” 

“I think she said we’re going to make a candy Nativity scene,” he answered without looking away from Alex. “Gummi Bears as the wise men and a little jellybean Jesus.”

“Couldn’t you use your powers to balance?” Alex asked, keeping his voice low.

“Liz has got me on a tight leash these days.”

She rolled her eyes, then explained, “We’re experimenting with the strength of his powers, and as a control, I asked him to refrain from using them outside of the lab for a few days.” 

“And I’m gonna have the bruises on my ass to prove it.” 

The last thing Alex needed was to think about Michael’s ass, and he looked over his shoulder at the crowded mall before turning back to the two of them. “Well, I should probably–”

“Hot chocolate,” Michael blurted out. Alex raised his eyebrows, and Liz just looked back and forth between them. “It’s just– Liz also has me on this no drinking thing–”

“Hey, you said–”

He waved her away, still looking hopefully at Alex. “But they have a little cafe with hot chocolate over there, and I could really use one after falling all over the ice. It’s pretty cold out there.” 

Alex’s gaze flicked over to the cafe Michael mentioned, just a few little faux wrought-iron tables in a cluster on the other side of the rink. 

“You thirsty?” Michael asked, and Alex swallowed. “I just thought– maybe we could, you know, talk.” 

“Um.” Alex clutched the Nordstrom bag tighter in his grip and licked his lips. Talking had never been their strong suit, but Alex had meant it when he said he wasn’t walking away again. Not when Michael was finally ready for a conversation. He inhaled, then nodded, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Actually, I’m parched.” 

“Good. Great. I’ll just, ah, return these skates–”

“Take them off here and give them to me,” Liz said, gesturing to his feet. “I mean it; you’re a hazard to everyone on the ice. You two go, enjoy your hot chocolate.” Her expression brooked no arguments. 

As they sat down across from each other minutes later, a hot chocolate topped with whipped cream in front of each of them, their knees brushed beneath the table, and neither one of them moved away. Alex took a steamy sip, and thought maybe the mall at Christmastime wasn’t so bad, after all.