#I just want to see my favorite little green guy get tormented for two hours

[pianokantzart]

The amount of fiending for a Luigi's Mansion movie I've been doing this week is unreal.

[asweetprologue]

Nili’s Benchmark Geraskier Fic Rec List

hey yall! I officially hit 750 followers (a few days ago, I blew past the benchmark without even realizing!), which is... insane. I truly can’t believe that so many people over the last year have enjoyed my presence in this fandom enough to continue to follow my work. you guys are so great and I love you all so much, so I decided to put together a gift for you!

this is a list of my favorite geraskier fics from the fandom, which I have been putting together over the last year or so. a few of these are big in the fandom, but a lot of them are smaller pieces that I feel deserve more attention! I have provided ao3 and tumblr links where I could find them, as well as ratings and summaries. Most of these are canon!verse because I’m not personally a big fan of modern au’s, but there will be a few of those scattered throughout as well. I’ve divided the fics into two sections: oneshots and multichapter. See the list below the cut!

Being in this fandom truly has gotten me through the pandemic in a big way and I have made so many good friends while here. thank you all for validating my weird obsession with these characters and enabling me in these trying times <3

Oneshots

all that was good, all that was fair (all that was me is gone) | M | 7517 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions Of Violence | @xdandelionxbloomx

Somewhere, deep in a forest, a man drags himself from his grave by sheer power of will. He lies gasping on the forest floor and does not know who or what he is. The world is wide and wonderful, though, and there is so much to see.

Or, Jaskier is so stubborn that he literally comes back from the dead.

Another fascinating addition to the mythology of the Witcher. Jaskier’s slow rediscovery of himself is so well done here. One I’ve come back to again and again. 

As Fast As Love Can Go | T | 9628 | @bygodstillam

There are Faeries in the Wood.

That's what everyone said, at least, not that there was any solid proof. Jaskier had tried, more than once, to find some. Just a hint somewhere, of a real story, of real magic. But all anyone seemed to have was stories.

Jaskier was determined to find proof. He wasn't expecting to find a witcher in the process.

Fascinating fic with some really interesting worldbuilding, and a fresh new take on True Love’s Kiss. Also with some great art by @hehearse!

beautiful, he stirs up still things | T | 2575 | @alittlebitmaybe

“You’re not asking me to dance,” says Geralt.

Jaskier turns his palm up on his knee, offering it. “I think you’ll find I am.”

Just them dancing. This is a lovely sort of pre-relationship dynamic. So soft.

Dialogue Prompt | NR | 2932 | @reinvent-and-believe

Dialogue Prompt 48: “You make me want things I can’t have.” Wordless I-love-you 50: buying them a special treat when you go out shopping

Geralt gets Jaskier a gift, which prompts some confessions.

Even a small love | E | 22,272 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con 

“Well,” Jaskier replies distractedly. “Lots of things want to strangle you.”

“You don’t.”

It isn’t a particularly troublesome accusation, or even necessarily an accusation at all.

This is one I read early on in the fandom, and it really stuck with me. The dynamic between Jaskier and Geralt is perfect, and the misunderstandings between them feel so realistic. The non-con is not extreme, but do mind the warnings. 

For the Space of a Heartbeat | T | 2021 | @drowningbydegrees

As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after.

Just sweet, morning after discussions. I love to see them talking for once.

Greensleeves | T | 10,414 | @rebrandedbard

When Geralt crosses paths with Jaskier in the spring, the world is dressed in green. Quite literally. Everyone everywhere is wearing green, and it all comes down to a song Jaskier has written that, to his mortification, has become popular throughout the Continent. It's torment, being forced to preform the song over and over again and have his heart broken anew. But who is this Lady Greensleeves the people say Jaskier is so maddeningly, heartbrokenly in love with? At the baron's wedding party, Geralt is determined to find out.

This is one of my personal faves - there’s just something about Jaskier’s feelings being put on blast while Geralt remains totally oblivious that I think is so very them. And the resolution at the end is delightful.

I Don’t Wanna Fall (If It’s Not In Love) | E | 13,902 | @writinglizards

The first time it's out of desperation. Things get rapidly out of hand from there.

OR the building of a relationship through mutual wank sessions.

I love everything Ashley writes, but this one was the first fic I read by her and it still has a warm place in my heart. I also highly recommend It’s Been A While (makes me cry every time) and Tell Me Honestly

Like a Storm, Like a Flood | T | 1065 | @valdomarx

Jaskier is leaving for the winter, and Geralt can't bear the thought of not seeing him for months.

It was soooo hard to pick only one fic by George, but this one is so soft and sweet and yearning I just had to go with it. This is really just about Geralt finally hitting a breaking point and saying enough is enough.

one flesh | E | 10,763 | WARNING: MCD 

“Well, then. I’m a ghost.” Jaskier spread his arms grandly. Geralt held his gaze for a moment, then dropped his head and laughed. Jaskier put his hands on his hips. “Do fill me in on what’s so funny.” It wasn’t funny. It was just so - ridiculous, the things Geralt’s fucked up brain would invent. This had to be the last nail in the sanity coffin, it just had to be.

Or: Jaskier is a ghost, and Geralt is a mess.

Jaskier dies and comes back as a ghost to haunt Geralt into taking care of himself. Geralt does not handle this gracefully. This fic is so sad and heartbreaking, but the ending is so sweet.

to render it transparent | E | 23,901

Geralt wakes up warm, peaceful, and utterly content, which is how he knows that something is severely wrong.

Sigh. This fic. This is a time travel fic - Geralt ends up in the future living with Jaskier on the coast, just after the mountain. It’s slow and beautiful and extremely bittersweet, all about how we choose to love people despite how much it can hurt us.

With All the Continent A Stage | M | 4745 | @greyduckgreygoose

Later, Geralt learned that the play was four hours long. Four hours long. It didn’t feel like it. Most of it passed by in a fever dream of ominous music, dance-fighting and dryads in gossamer leaves, swinging from hoops attached to the ceiling. Yennefer made an appearance, played by Priscilla in a glittering negligee. She sang a song to Geralt about putting him “Under Her Spell”, and they had a sensual dance number which was made a little strange by a sickened Jaskier (played by Jaskier) coughing loudly in the background.

(Jaskier invites Geralt to a musical production inspired by his own life.)

Jaskier basically writes Geralt a love letter in the form of a four hour long play. Geralt is an idiot about it.

Multi-Chapter Fics

A Lover’s Lament | M | 25,364 | @somedrunkpirate

So,” Jaskier begins, as casually as he can, “you are telling me, that in theory, if I were to be in love with someone — anyone — that person could well be in terrible danger?”

Of all terrible and ridiculous things that have threatened Geralt’s safety, Jaskier’d never thought that loving him might be what will get him killed.

I honestly can’t count the number of times I’ve read this fic. The monster is so interesting, and the mythos of it fits seamlessly into the world of the Witcher in my mind. Jaskier being so afraid that his feelings are going to put Geralt at risk, clearly unable to see that Geralt is going through the exact same thing. I think about the scene with them looking at each other almost daily. 

A Pair of Gloves, the Scent of Roses | M | 24,134 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence

In the bustling days before the Midsummer festival, Geralt is sent into the countryside to deal with a monster - with Jaskier once again by his side. But the bard has not forgiven him, and while he's not hiding his contempt for the Witcher, he is recalcitrant about revealing his true motives for joining him. As the hunt turns into a desperate mission to save an innocent man and the monster is not what is seems to be, Geralt learns a few new things about his old friend and decides to finally attempt to mend the rift between them...

This is one of my favorite’s in the fandom - it feels so believable, the world is so rich and the oc’s are convincing and charming. Geralt and Jaskier feel so honest here, stumbling around each other but still drawn together. Beautiful beautiful beautiful

Bearing the will of the flower | NR | 11,449 

The way Jaskier sees it, his hobby of following a witcher around was always pretty likely to get him killed.

The fact that it's happening now because the witcher in question doesn't love him, he thinks as he coughs up crumpled flowers, hardly makes a difference.

My favorite hanahaki fic in the fandom. I’m such a sucker for these, and these two idiots being so incapable of talking about their feelings really makes them prime candidates. 

Food of Love | T | 22,488 | @wallatile-qvibbler

I brought a dead princess back to life through the power of song is the kind of thing that would have got an eyebrow raise even from the stone-faced Geralt of Rivia, so it's a good thing he and Geralt will probably never see each other again.

(or: the one where Jaskier channels magic through his songs, and it almost never goes as expected.)

This is a Jaskier and Renfri centric fic, which wasn’t something I knew I wanted until I read this. Jaskier is a bard which in this AU comes with magical powers, but it feels so well integrated into the universe that I wish it was just... how the Witcher is. Renfri is so good here, and even though Jaskier and Geralt barely even interact you can feel the tension and love between them. Cannot recommend highly enough.

friends and allies of the witcher | T | 10,312 | @theamazingbard

Yennefer crawls over to her newest cellmate. They’re curled up on their side. Breathing, but only just. She’s not sure what she’s hoping for when she turns them over. Still isn’t when she sees that it is indeed Jaskier.

“Shit."

Yennefer and Jaskier each suffer in more ways than one at the hands of Nilfgaard.

Yennefer and Jaskier get capture by Nilfgaard and tossed into a cell together. Exactly what I want out of season 2 honestly. Their interactions are gold.

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope | E | 45,188 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con | @lesdemonium

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier's mother with Jaskier's obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the "gift" became more of a curse.

You know I’m not gonna make a rec list without listing Zoe’s Ella Enchanted au. Need I say more?

Silver and Copper | M | 56,139 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence | @kaer-cuan

Geralt is just supposed to pass through the quiet Lettenhove area. He's not anticipating being begged by its people to help save their viscount from a curse that keeps him from daylight. Lord Jaskier, they call him, and he's likely dying.

As Geralt struggles to untangle the ugly web of history that has lead to the increasingly complicated curse, he finds himself spending more and more time with the strange young viscount and wondering just what he might have been before the curse, and who he might be after. But things are not always as they seem, and as the curse tightens its grip on Jaskier, Geralt is forced to face the fear of failing yet another person whose choices were stolen from them.

Or-

Jaskier is kept from becoming a bard. Geralt finds him anyway.

This is a fic that haunts me. It’s very scary in parts, and mind the tags - there are some very heavy themes here. But it’s beautiful and touching, and Jaskier feels very true to himself even though his origin is so different.

we could be married (and then we'd be happy) | E | 50,222 | @a-kind-of-merry-war

Jaskier reached into his pocket, fingers grasping around the little box. He pulled it out with what he hoped was a romantic flourish, flipping it open to reveal the simple gold band inside. “Geralt,” he said, confidently, cooly, like this wasn’t terrifying, “Will you marry me?”

Geralt and Jaskier fake marriage proposals to get free deserts and shit but it goes tits up when Vesemir catches them in the act. Not knowing how to fess up, they go along with it for a while, which is hell because they’re both pining like mad. As I said, I don’t love modern au’s, but it’s merry so of course this one had to end up on my list.

~

And that’s it! 20 fics for you, and hopefully you can all find one or two you haven’t read before. There are a lot of people and fics that I didn’t include in this list only because I was trying to not put a million down (which I could). I highly recommend anything by @wherethewordsare, @julek, @contemplativepancakes, @witcher-and-his-bard, and @inber, as well as those linked to fics above, and I’m sure there are others I forgot to mention. Yall have truly made being in this fandom worthwhile <3

[fruitcoops]

if you are still taking request I think that it would be so cute if lily convinced remus to go to the nail salon with her, and he was going to just get like a manicure and clear coat, and he changes his mind and comes home with his nails done sirius' favorite color as a surprise and sirius is just like dumbstruck by how much the little things remus does makes him fall even more in love with him and fluffy cuteness ensues

This is adorable! Enjoy some Loops and Lily, ft. fluffy Coops on this lovely Monday. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Remind me why I’m coming with you again?” Remus sighed as they turned the corner. “It’s just going to chip off in two days anyway.”

“Because you had a shitty weekend and deserve a hand massage,” Lily said briskly. She looped her arm through his and tucked her hand into her pocket, tilting her face up toward the sun and trusting him to guide her along the sidewalk. “You don’t have to choose colors if you don’t want to.”

“If I have to go, I’m not going to half-ass it.”

She grinned and cracked one eye open. “There’s my Remus.”

A gentle bell jingled above his head as they ducked into the shop—Lily called it a ‘salon’, which he didn’t really understand, but it sounded fancy. One woman looked up from a client’s nails and waved, then pointed to the far wall. “Pick whatever colors you’d like! I’ll be with you in a few.”

Remus stopped in his tracks. “That’s…a lot.”

Lily rolled her eyes and dragged him closer. “You’re not chickening out on me over some colors, Lupin. Which one do you like?”

“I don’t know! There’s too many!”

“There’s green,” Lily huffed, planting him in front of about three dozen different shades. “Go nuts.”

“I’m not putting green on my nails. It’ll look weird.”

“Then do red and gold!”

“That’s lame. Can’t I just watch you get yours done?”

“No,” Lily groaned. It wasn’t the first time he had asked, and likely wouldn’t be the last. “It’s about the experience, Re. If you want just a clear coat, that’s fine, but you said you—”

“—didn’t want to half-ass it, I know,” he finished with a grumble. Colors. Colors aren’t that difficult. Green would be odd, orange would be worse…

His eyes caught on a little bottle near the base of the racks. It was a plain, pretty blue; nothing special, yet calming. Sea You Later! the base read when he picked it up. Lily made an approving noise over his shoulder. “That’s cute.”

“It’s not bad.”

“Looks like Sirius’ shirt, actually. The one with the dogs on it?”

Remus rolled the bottle around for a moment. “It really does, now that you mention it. Huh.”

She patted his hip and went back to the shiny, shimmery ones on the right. “You should give it a shot.”

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

Painting nails took a really, really long time. Much longer than Remus was anticipating when he hesitantly rested his hands on the towel and tried not to think about how much bigger they were than Lily’s. He felt awkward in a place like this, where everyone seemed so put-together and comfortable.

His worries were quickly dispelled when the nail artist began rubbing the tension from his joints with peony-scented lotion; he immediately relaxed into her touch, letting the calluses from sticks and weights be soothed. Judging from her pleased hum when she inspected his nails, he hadn’t accidentally been butchering them his whole life—the scrape of the nail file made him grimace, but she didn’t have to do much before a coat of clear polish went on.

“It’s a protector,” Lily said at his confused look. “So your nails stay healthy and don’t turn yellow.”

“This is a lot more complicated than I thought it would be,” Remus muttered as he stuck his hands underneath the miniature fan.

The nail artist laughed as she rolled her chair to Lily’s station. “First time?”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine you get a lot of guys in here.”

She shrugged. “More than you’d think, I bet. There’s nothing wrong with wanting your hands to look nice, and a pop of color never hurt anybody.”

“Good point.”

The clear polish—base coat, Lily said with a teasing smile—dried quickly, and soon two perfect layers of blue shone under the bright lamp. Lily’s design was much more complex than his own, with shimmery bits and spiraled paint, but he liked the simplicity. It even matched his socks.

Lily and the nail artist chatted the whole time, swapping stories about summer activities and everything that had happened since she last visited; Remus waited patiently with his fingertips under the fan and people-watched as the sun grew higher in the sky.

After an hour, they were finally done, and Remus couldn’t stop rubbing his hands together as they headed back outside until Lily smacked his arm. “Stop it, you look like a Disney villain.”

“I’m sorry, they’re just so soft!” He brought his hands to his face and breathed in the soft floral scent. “Here, feel.”

“I’m not going to feel your hands.”

“Feel them.” When she shook her head and kept walking, he jogged ahead and held them out, palms-up. “Lily! Feel my hands!”

“Alright, fine!” she laughed, grabbing them both. Her eyebrows rose. “Damn, they are soft.”

“Told you so.”

“That color looks really good on you, too.”

“Yeah?” Remus looked down at the polish again, smiling to himself. There was just something about them that made him happy. “They match my socks.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” He reached down and pulled his pantleg up, startling a snort out of Lily.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said as she linked their arms again. “Did you have fun?”

“It was nice,” Remus said with a shrug. “I don’t know if I’ll go back a lot, but I had a good time listening to you two talk.”

Lily nodded, looking quite self-satisfied. “Good. I bet Sirius will get a kick out of them.”

“You think so?”

“For sure. He always likes mine.”

Remus thought back to the many, many times Lily had displayed her freshly-done nails to them with great pride; Sirius did have a penchant for colorful and sparkly things, after all. Why should his ordinary blue nails be any different?

Lily made sure to take an obligatory Instagram photo of their hands before they entered the house, then immediately laid out in front of the fan by the back door while she uploaded it. “Hey, Lily, it’s good to see you, too,” Sirius said drily as he came in from the backyard. “I’m good, thanks for asking. It’s pretty hot out there, but—”

“Shut up,” she laughed, grabbing the back of his ankle when he stepped over her. “Where’s my lover?”

“Your husband is tormenting my dog,” he called over his shoulder before winding his arms around Remus’ waist for a kiss. “Bonjour, mon amour.”

“Hey, you.” Remus bumped their noses together with a grin he could never even try to hold down. “You know how I never half-ass things?”

“Mhmm.”

He held his fingers up. “Ta-da!”

“Oh, pretty.” Sirius’ eyes went wide as he took one of Remus’ hands. “Your hands are so soft!”

“I know, right?”

“He made me feel them!” Lily groaned from the floor. “It was so weird.”

“You love it!” Remus shot back before leaning onto his tiptoes to kiss Sirius’ forehead. “I figured you’d like the blue.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t do green.”

Heat rose to his cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the sunshine. “It’s your favorite color, right? Not too green, not too purple. Reminded me of you.”

Sirius’ eyes grew impossibly soft and he cupped Remus’ jaw, pulling him in for an unhurried kiss that melted his brain into his toes. “Je t’aime.”

“Love you, too,” he breathed. His face was definitely redder than a fire engine by that point, but he hardly cared.

There was a light squeeze around his hand. “These look really nice.”

A spark of joy lit in Remus’ chest. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Ugh, love,” Lily scoffed, despite the fact that James was pressing a million and one kisses to her neck as he hugged her from behind. 6

Sirius thumped his forehead on Remus’ collarbone. “You are the worst sister-in-law of all time.”

“I know,” she said with a smug smile, tilting her head to kiss James’ cheek. “Hi, lover.”

“Hi. Your nails are so beautiful.”

“I didn’t get them in your favorite color. Sorry.”

“I’ll never recover,” James sighed. “Well, at least we’re not a terrible rom-com cliché.”

Remus flipped him off over Sirius’ shoulder; the nail polish gave the gesture a little extra oomph that certainly canceled out the grin that made his whole face ache.

[suchalonelysunflower]

Over And Out (l.h)

End Up Here - Part 4

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x 5sos! Fem! Reader

Summary: A tour. A secret relationship. And rumors only grow...

Warnings: Angst, mild smut. Mentions of harassment, sexual harassment, sexual abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, creepy men, jealousy, alcohol, cheating, fighting, sexism, and many frustrations. Language and some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 10k

Author’s Note: this is the most frustrating thing I’ve ever written, I believe. Next part will be up on March 14th. Remember that Reblogs, Fedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help me ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Series Materialist || part 1 || part 2 || part 3

Liked by michaelclifford, 5sosfan4eva and 1,573 others

lukehemmings and away and away we go ✈️

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5sosfan4eva THEY ARE TOTALLY DATING

↪️ calumlovesash I hope they’re not 🤢 she was much better with Madden or Josh. At least they’re famous

yn5sos I’m changing seats with Michael

↪️ lukehemmings @yn5sos 🥺

*

@5sos EUROPE ARE YOU READY?!

“I can’t believe we’re already here!” Y/N cheered as they got to the hotel.

It’s been a month on the road already and they finally had a few days to rest before traveling to yet another destination. They had the idea of doing a tour to promote not only their new singles and tease the album release that’s bound to happen next year, and it ended up being one of the most incredible ideas they had after spending almost a year without doing shows.

They started with a small tour in Europe, then they will move on back home in Australia for a couple of shows, and then the big finale in the United States where most of their shows were already sold out. By that time, the fans would’ve already listened to the new songs and be even more hyped for the new album.

Luke was the newbie on tour, this not being the first time he traveled away from home, but the first time he did it with people he cared about. He was having the time of his life with Y/N, the boys, and their s.o. It all felt like a dream. He was actually living the life of a rockstar on his summer break, even if most of the things they did they had to keep it a secret.

When Y/N invited Luke on tour there was no way he would’ve said no to her - not just because he pretty much can’t say no to her, but that’s another story.

She said she wanted to take it slow and that was exactly what they were doing. They didn’t put a label on whatever they had going on, but rather they enjoyed the moment stealing kisses and nights whenever they could.

They would sneak out into each other's rooms late at night, longing to be closer. They would spend hours upon hours tangled in the sheets, loving each other and sharing whatever was on their minds at the time. Making those moments their own amid their borrowed time between destinations. A moment for the two of them.

Luke found it weird at the beginning; hiding their relationship from the world until it became official. But these last few months he could see a change in Y/N, she seemed happier, more open to talking about her feelings and her past. He understood that this was important to her, to live a normal life until she feels ready to share it.

If time is what she needed, time is what she’ll get.

The boys and their girlfriends were all supportive. They too understood the importance of keeping some things private as well as the changes in Y/N’s behavior. They were all happy to see their friend back, just in time for tour.

But it was almost impossible to control what was put in the media. The fans already know who Luke is and that he spends a lot of time with the members of their favorite band. They speculate about his relationship with Y/N, creating rumors that even though he wants to, he can’t confirm nor deny. And when it came to the media outlets, those were much, much worse.

They didn’t say much about him “The privilege of being normal” Said Calum once. But they did have a lot to say about Y/N…

“Y/N L/N is back at it again with a new man?!”

“No tears this time? Y/N L/N Caught smiling and getting cuddly with a member of her team! Can she mix work and pleasure?”

“Serial heartthrob Y/N L/N seen with other men while still refusing to talk about her most recent break-up? Sounds fishy to me!”

“What was she thinking?! Y/N L/N was spotted in an outing with his “new friend” wearing very thin shorts and a crop top. Not so family-friendly apparently”

Horrible things were written about her every day but she ignored them as if they didn’t exist. Luke wished he could do the same.

Every little article, tweet, or comment about Y/N made his blood boil. It was clear that they were completely made up to be some “big news” when the reality was far from that and they kept disrespecting them and their relationship even if it was still on the down-low.

But Luke could not stop reading them. It was addictive how he couldn’t resist clicking on her name every time it popped out, not because of some morbid reasoning behind it, but because those articles seemed to know more about Y/N than Luke himself. People kept talking about a past he didn’t know she had. Were those made up as well? Or are they based on reality? Would he be able to know the difference?

Truth was, he couldn’t. He loves Y/N blindly, he got to know her in one of the most genuine ways but it feels like that is not enough. It’s almost like she is living a secret life he doesn’t get to know.

He wonders when it will end. This seemingly permanent stage of seating on the sidewalk, waiting for the light to turn green so they could walk freely into their relationship. Where people will support them, respect her and let them be happy. But that could never happen when she’s the one who doesn’t want to move.

Luke respects that she is not ready to talk, as she said time and time again. But he just couldn’t comprehend how she, right now, could be so at peace while her name is thrown through the mud and back. Smiling with the boys as they take pictures for promo while management arranges the check-in. Does she not know what they are saying about her or she just accepts it without any retribution?

He was asking himself all these questions as he watched her so happy, his mind tormenting him with a dark cloud over their sunny day. He wants to protect her, but he doesn’t know how or if she would even let him.

And yes, maybe that was selfish of him. Banging on a closed-door with his heart in his hands. But what about the person with the key and the lock? Aren't they a little bit selfish too?

“Hey!” He heard Kat said as she sat beside him, nudging her shoulder against his.

Luke turned to her, his eyebrow still locked in a frown as he muttered a little “hey”

The blonde girl scrunched her nose at him “Yikes, what's happening that it has you all worked up, buddy?”

Luke pressed his lips on a thin line as his eyes traveled back at Y/N. She was laughing at something Ashton had said when she turned to look at him.

Y/N smiled, winking at him as she waved. Luke stared at her for a while, a small smile playing on his lips as he raised his hand in acknowledgment. He could feel his heart skipping a beat every time their eyes met, but the dark feelings in his mind made his expression turn sour the moment Y/N turned around again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the girl sitting next to him.

“You read them again, didn’t you?” Kat asked, already knowing the answer just by looking at how his shoulders tensed the moment she asked it.

They were all aware of the tabloids and the stories, being a regular occurrence to them, but not for Luke. They all knew this was new to him as well and how overwhelming it might be. So they all tried to ground him as much as possible, not letting him get affected by it as he had before.

“Now why are they saying that?!” He spat as he threw his cellphone on the leather couch, calling the boy's attention.

It was a normal day at the studio. They were all getting lunch as they laid back in the break room while Y/N and their girls went out to get them coffee.

Calum was the first one to speak, confused by his friend's sudden outburst “Uh, what exactly? And who?”

“This!” He said, grabbing his phone and tossing it at Calum. The rest of the boys gathered around as Luke plopped himself down on the couch.

Ashton began to read out loud “Seeing the growing rumors of Y/N’s mystery man, here’s a list of every guy we wished would date her”

“Okay that’s fucked up,” Michael said, swallowing his food.

“It’s better than the last one…”

“What?!” Luke asked, outraged that there are worse things out there.

“Dude, chill,” Calum said, “We understand this is beyond fucked, especially now that you’re dating or whatever. But you getting this angry at it won’t solve anything”

“Won’t solve anything?!” He said in a loud tone “That’s my girl they’re talking about. My girl dating other guys while she’s with me!”

“But they don’t know that,” Michael argued.

Luke shook his head, taking his phone back from Calum’s hands as he started typing furiously.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?! Letting them know that they can go fuck themselves” Luke answered, eyes still on the phone, a second away from pressing send before Calum snatched his phone.

“No!” He said “You are not going to out your relationship without her consent!”

“But-“

“Plus, I already took care of it,” Ashton said, holding his phone up “I tweeted at them telling them how incredibly disrespectful they’re being, now the fans are onto them and I already messaged management to deal with it”

“And that’s it?” Luke’s eyes winded “That’s all you’re gonna do?”

“That’s all we can do right now,” Ashton said with a sigh, sitting next to it “We know these situations suck, they’re horrible and dehumanizing and we are glad more people are realizing just how shitty the media is. But if we respond to every rumor there is it’s going to be a never endless battle, it’s going to backfire. We know, we tried”

“But all the stories are aimed against her” Luke said, running a hand through his face with frustration clear in his eyes “She didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Why do you think that is?” Michael chimed in “Think about Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, Miley Cyrus, Britney Spears… They aim for women because they think are easy to kill”

“Which they’re not. It makes them stronger somehow. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it if I was them” Calum said “Women are stronger than you think when it comes to this, Y/N included”

“We’ve been living with this kind of shit show for years. We defended her with knives and teeth, dragging every single outlet that posted something against her. But that shit only made it worse for her”

“They loved the attention they were receiving” Ashton’s voices laid with sarcasm “Every interaction we had they profited from it, creating even more rumors, one worse than the other, just so they could have the clicks. Eventually, Y/N asked us to stop defending her publicly and she decided to ignore it altogether”

“But we still fight for her, though. We flag the post, demand they take it down, talk to PR and management for damage control, and even sue for defamation a couple of times. She’s never got to go through any of that on her own, we wouldn’t have allowed it”

“And what am I supposed to do, then?” Luke asked, a mix of frustration and desperation filled his voice “Just do nothing?”

“Be there for her” Calum answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world “Support her. Love her. Comfort her. Whatever she needs. She’s a strong woman, one of the strongest we know. But there will come a time when she will have to lean on someone, and you have to be there and ready for her. She trusts you. Don’t let her down”

Kath placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder, understanding the man’s pain.

“I just-“ He said with a sigh “She never reads them, you know? The articles. But I do, I can’t help it. They seem to know more about her than me and that’s just-“

“Fucked?”

“Yeah,” He said as he took a long breath “I don’t know… I’m trying. This is all very new to me and she’s a professional at dealing with this kind of shit. But at the same time, she never tells me anything, how she feels about them or if they’re real or not. It’s fucking me up”

Kat hummed “And I assume you don’t ask her about it either”

The girl crooked an eyebrow at Luke, seemingly seeing through him “I- I don’t want to push”

She sighed and patted his shoulder “Let me tell you something, Luke. From girlfriend of a celebrity to the boyfriend of a celebrity” She started, earning Luke’s complete attention “When I started dating Calum we decided to keep it private, out of the eyes of the media and even from some of his friends. It was good at the beginning, great even! But the heart is ambitious and it always ends up wanting more. We fought a lot during those times, part of us wanting to hold on to what we had but at the same time longing for some kind of freedom. In the end, we did end up going public, as you know. We endure a lot of hate, we still do. But we knew what we were up against, you’re still trying to figure that out. But I’m telling you to know there is something you’re lacking”

“And what is that?” Luke asked with curiosity.

“Communication” Kat smiled sweetly at him “How do you expect to reach a meeting point while you’re sitting here in your own dark cloud and she’s over there with no clue of what’s happening with you and vice versa?”

The blonde girl got up from her seat next to him, giving him one last piece of advice before walking towards Calum “Don’t give up before you try. No one said it was going to be easy but, it’s your choice to see if it’s worth it”

Luke watched her walk away, rousing her arms around Calum’s waist as she smiled sweetly at him, giving him a small peck. Luke smiled at their love.

He thought about their friends, how in love they are with their partners and how free they are to love publicly, facing the retaliations of being in the public eye. But they seemed happy, they were happy. And he realized he wanted that for him and Y/N.

His mind drifted off to the possibility of going public, cleaning the air once and for all. No more “mysterious guy” or “Y/N’s possible secret lover” he’d be Luke Hemmings, the proud boyfriend of singer Y/N L/N. They could be happier, free. They could fight those rumors together and face the stormy weather that would come. He’d defend her until the end of times, protecting her with his life and supporting her in everything she does. He wanted that for them. But it wasn’t his sole choice to make.

“Babe!” He heard Y/N call.

She was walking up to him, a playful smile on her face as the nickname rolled off her tongue. She was wearing one of his hoodies, making her look small as she approached him.

He noticed that her eyes were shining, lately, they always did and he couldn’t get enough of them. He could get lost in her eyes willingly, throwing away the map and making himself home.

He loved her. Oh, he was so in love with her he didn’t even know what to do. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was about wanting to love her freely. He just wished she thought about it too.

“I got our keys” She smiled, pulling two cards out of her back pocket.

“Oh?” Luke asked playfully with a grin drawn into his face “And where am I supposed to sleep this week?”

In order not to create any suspicion about their relationship, they decided that Luke will have his own hotel room on tour - even though everyone knows that’s not where he sleeps or where he wakes up in the mornings. Usually “Luke’s room” is used to store the extra luggage they carry.

Y/N fake pouted “Sadly, Mr. Hemmings. Your room is at the other end of the hall”

Luke gasped “That far away?! Is there any way I can be… closer?”

The girl bit her lip as she rounded her arm around his waist, standing on her tippy toes as she softly whispered in his ear “Let’s see what I can do about that, Sir”

Y/N giggled as she heard Luke let out a soft groan, pecking his cheek with a small kiss as she stood in front of him again “Baby, you’re going to be the death of me” He said, trying to get a hold of her by her waist. But she was quicker, swiftly moving a step back as she started walking towards the elevators. One last look over her shoulder got him grabbing their things as he followed her without any questions.

The elevator ride is quiet, the beating of their hearts being the soundtrack to their wait as they reached their floor. Y/N didn't look at him as she walked towards the door, unlocking it with one swift movement of the wrist and leaving it open for Luke to come in after her.

When he opened the door, she was nowhere in sight. He wondered if she hid somewhere, this not being the first time she would jump and scare the shit out of him. But then, his ears picked up a soft humming coming through the bathroom door, and with a devilish smile he let their luggage at the side of the closet, he locked the door and made his way to her.

Y/N was humming one of her favorite songs when Luke caught her reflection in the mirror but she was not looking at him. She was putting some lotion in her hands, fingers tracing up until her upper arm with barely-there touches.

“Remember we have a party in a couple of hours, Hemmings,” She said when she felt him getting closer “We should get ready soon” He just hummed in agreement, not really paying attention to her words.

Softly, he placed his hands on either side of her hips, pulling her closer to him. Y/N kept ignoring him as she dried the excess of product out of her hands and it wasn’t until Luke pushed away some of her hair and started kissing along her neck that she finally gave him a proper response to his action.

Luke smirked as he felt her let out a shaky breath as his lips traced the shell of her ear, kissing it softly before moving lower and lower, kissing and sucking on her skin as slow as he could, making her tremble under his touch.

“Luke,” She said, holding her breath as she felt his calloused hands travel under the hoodie she was wearing. His hoodie. The one that always smelt like him.

“Hmm?” He asked, not stopping his movements for a second.

“We- uhm” The girl stuttered in a whisper when his hands started touching her over her bra, softly rolling over the nipples and making them hard “We should - oh - we should start getting ready soon”

“We should, huh?” He asked, voice raspy and low “It will be rude to go a little bit late. Wouldn’t it?”

Y/N let out a sigh when his hands left her breasts, trying to regain her breath before she lost it all over again when his fingers started playing with the hem of her jeans.

His fingers wandered carefully, fiddling with the button and zipper until they weren’t an issue. His lips grazed her neck up and down, kissing it softly as his fingertips finally reached her center.

She let out a soft moan when she felt him over her panties, tracing her lips over them and feeling her arousal “I’m sure they could wait a little bit longer” He said as he pressed a finger to her clit over the fabric “We need to take care of a few problems before that, don’t you think?”

He pressed his hips onto her, a soft whimper escaping her mouth when she felt his growing erection against her.

“So wet for me, my love” He groaned as her hand flew to the top of his hair, trying to find balance as she tugged on his curls “Always so beautiful for me”

“Luke-“

He opened his eyes just in time to catch her staring at him through the mirror with a desperate look in her eyes. It took him less than a second to spin her around and press her against the countertop, ceasing his lips into her like she was his last meal on earth.

She tangled her hands behind his head, fingers deep into his hair as he grabbed her by the back of her thighs, easily lifting her off and taking her to the king-size bed where they made sure to lose track of time between kisses and moans as they satisfied their needs with each other, over and over again until they fell through the abyss of pleasure together, whispering sweet confessions as their breath went back to normal.

It was easy to say that they were the last ones to reach the lobby. What was hard for them to ignore was the knowing looks and teasing smiles from their friends that were waiting for them for a good amount of time.

“Don’t say anything” Y/N threatened Ashton as he opened his mouth. But he just laughed

“If you want Luke to walk around with his fly open then sure, I’ll keep my mouth shut”

*

The ride to the party was filled with laughter and chit-chats. They were all in a great mood to finally have a mini-break in between shows and what better way to celebrate it than at a big party?

Luke stole glances from Y/N as she talked to Bethany. She looked beautiful with her black dress, making Luke proud and a little bit snug about him being the one who would take her home afterward.

But he knew that after tonight they needed to talk. And not “talk” like they usually do. No, this time he was going to express his concerns to her, his hopes for them, and confess his love for her over and over again. He wanted her to know how he feels, he needed to know where they stand and what she needs to feel more comfortable and what he can do to help her feel at ease.

He just needs reassurance, something to hold on to while he provides the same for her. In the end, he knew they would be okay.

After a few minutes, they reached the house of the host. Luke marveled at the mansion that stood proudly in front of him. When Y/N mentioned a party with some label associates, she never mentioned that the party was going to be hosted by the president and owner of the label.

He felt Y/N tug on his hand a couple of times before separating herself from him and going to stand next to the girls.

For a moment Luke forgot that they needed to keep appearances and couldn’t be together romantically in public. He could feel his heart aching as he watched her walk away with her friends, laughing together as they stepped into the party.

“Hey,” Michael said behind him, following the eyes of the sad man next to him “It’s just one night”

He tried to be comforting, but all Luke could wonder was: Would it be just for a night?

The party was wild. That’s the first thought everyone has in their minds as they step through those doors into a world of darkness mixed with neon lights, smoke machines, and three open bars scattered around the hall. People were separated into groups: The ones who were too drunk to stop dancing, the ones not drunk enough to start dancing, and the ones who were networking their way into the industry.

Everyone that was someone was at that party. Producers, artists, songwriters, performers, agents… You name it. It was a party for the big leagues and Luke could not help but feel out of place the moment he stepped foot into the scene.

“Hey! 5 Seconds of Summer. C’mere!” A voice called over the music.

Standing not too far from them there was a man, his bald head shined under the lights as he held a drink to his lips, beckoning the band to come over.

Y/N and the guys started walking towards the man without a second to wait, leaving Luke and their girlfriends to witness the interaction from afar.

“Who’s that?” Asked Luke, getting closer to Danielle as they watched their partners laugh with a bunch of men who were now surrounding the band.

“That’s Anthony Kellinghs” She answered, swiftly grabbing a drink from one of the trays carried by the passing waitresses “He’s one of the big bosses in the industry. Ashton said his team approached them not too long ago to see if they would be interested in changing labels and work with them”

Luke glanced back to the group. Y/N was standing next to Calum, talking about something that made Anthony smile even though her face was serious. He did not like the way that man was looking at her.

Anthony laughed loudly, making other guests turn his face towards them. Y/N and the boys shared a confused gaze as they laughed awkwardly along with him. The bald man kept laughing, clearly intoxicated as he lowered his hand and rounded his arm around Y/N’s waist.

Luke’s breath got caught in his lungs as he watched how Y/N’s body movements came to a halt and her eyes widened in discomfort, her smile seemed stiff but she didn't stop laughing or talking to the guy. Luke could feel his blood boil as he watched his girl in the arms of someone else, acting like nothing was happening and that everything was fine, in front of him.

“What the fuck?” He muttered under his breath. Debating on whether he should go and punch that dude in the face. No matter how important he was in the industry, he wanted him away from Y/N immediately.

But he didn’t move and neither did Y/N. Luke didn’t know if it was because she physically couldn’t or because…

No, he rejected that thought immediately. It was clear to him by her eyes that she was desperate to get away from his touch. And apparently not only to him because the moment that man put his hands around her Ashton and Michael called his attention away from her, moving a few steps back so Y/N could have more space to free herself the moment she could. Calum had his eyes on her, too, with his arm placed to his side as if he were to take her away from there at any second.

Yet the man did not move an inch away from her. Instead, his hand trailed lower with every word he spoke, until Luke couldn’t see it anymore. All he could see what’s Y/N’s uncomfortable face as she suddenly jumped forward, fear written all over her eyes.

Luke let out a curse as he took a step forward, ready to beat that man’s face to dust. But he stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait!” Danielle said, eyes locked on the scene played in front of them.

Luke stared ahead and let out a breath of relief when he saw Calum taking Y/N away from the group and towards the bar, seemingly excusing themselves to get a drink. He saw how his friend’s arm rounded around her shoulders, making it impossible for her to look back and for anyone else to notice her face as they walked away with no intentions of coming back.

Luke lost sight of them as he watched them disappear into the party. “Good,” he thought “At least she’ll be safe and away from him” But that thought did not calm the rage he felt towards the creep that dared touch her in front of her friends.

“I’m going to kill him” He hissed, once again trying to step forwards but once again being pushed back by Ashton’s girl.

“The guys got it covered,” She said, her sweet voice laced with a warning as she whispered loud enough for only them to hear “They will handle it and make sure they never work with that man, ever. It’s not the first time this has happened”

“This happened before?!” Luke said, attracting some curious eyes to him. But he couldn’t care less about it at the moment.

The girls looked at each other and then at Luke. How could they explain to the man that this happens more times than Y/N would be able to admit? They knew first hand how the industry was full of creeps and disgusting men, having dealt with them in the past as well, but Y/N…

She was the front girl, the main focus of attention. She was beautiful, talented, hot… that’s all they saw, never caring about her caring personality, or how intelligent she was, how she was the driven force of 5SOS. She was more than her looks, she was a girl trying to live her dreams. But men only seem to see one thing.

“I’m going to check on them,” Kat said as she walked towards where Calum disappeared with Y/N. Bethany mentioned going to Michael to try and make them get away from the conversation they were still having with that fucker.

And Luke stood there, not able to do anything “Y/N wouldn’t want you to cause a scene, that’s why the boys never do it anymore. She knows how important image is for all of them and a scandal is the last thing they need right now. Especially if some “random dude” goes and punch one of the biggest names in the industry”

Danielle was right and he hated that. He hated that he couldn’t do anything to defend his girl because she didn’t want to be defended. But the fact that she knew how to handle these kinds of things didn’t make it any less wrong or difficult for him to ignore. More so because their relationship was still kept a secret.

Luke couldn’t help but think that maybe if people knew they were together, things like these wouldn’t happen. After all, the only thing men like Anthony respected was the presence of another man.

Ashton and Michael returned after a minute, both of them with their jaws clenched and eyes filled with the same feeling of powerless Luke felt.

“Where is she?” Ashton asked, standing beside Dani and holding her close by the waist, almost as if he were scared something might happen to her.

“Kat went to check on them, they still haven’t returned,” She said, comforting her boyfriend by running her hand up and down his arm.

“This is bullshit” Luke murmured, frustration lacing his voice as he grabbed one drink from one of the waitresses and drowned it in one go without flinching. He turned around and started walking away from the group.

“Where are you going?” Michael asked, half concerned and half furious from him walking away at this moment.

“I need air” He answered as he took another drink and walked through the garden doors. Not even sparing a glance back when Y/N called his name as she watched him go.

Luke spent most of the night going back and forwards between the main hall and the garden. He drank whatever was being offered to him and sat down on a bench as he watched the casual smokers come outside, accompanying him from a distance.

He knew he was being childish. He didn’t understand much about the industry, nor how people that worked in it were. All Luke knew was that Y/N was nothing like them; she was not greedy, nor was she a creep, she wasn’t evil or ill-hearted and she didn’t deserve what happened.

He wanted to be with her, apologize for his shitty behavior, and tell her that he loved her. Because he did. He loved her with all his heart and it hurts him to see her like that. But every time he stepped through those doors back to the main hall - every time more intoxicated than the others - she was nowhere to be found. Or she didn’t want to be found, but that didn’t stop Luke from looking for her.

And every time, wherever he found her, she would have company. Sometimes she would be with the boys and their girlfriends laughing along with some other group of people - usually men - that stood a little too close and personal with her. Other times she would be on her own, talking to some guy or girl he didn’t know, too preoccupied with her conversation to even notice Luke standing at a distance, looking at her with longing eyes as he tried to find the courage to talk to her.

Then, he would go back to the bar, order his drink and go back outside or with the group, tightening the grip on his glass as he watched the girl he loves being swept away in conversations he couldn’t be a part of, after all, he was just one of the composers and her friend. Nothing else.

The guys and their girlfriends tried to cheer him up, including him in conversations and inviting him to dance. They knew how new this was to him, having to remind themselves every once in a while when they caught his sad eyes dancing across the room on the looks of his fleeting love.

“She came looking for you a few minutes ago while you were outside,” Dani told him the third time he came by the group.

“Why didn’t she go out with me?” He asked, eyes on Y/N as she talked to Michael and one of the producers they met in London a few years back.

“She was going to,” Ashton chimed in “She walked over there but I think Niall caught wind of her and they started to catch up”

Luke clenched his jaw at the thought of Y/N with other men. His mind couldn’t help but to go back to all those articles about her exes, her possible new partners, her possible future partners. Cheating scandals, break-up songs, parties where she didn’t leave alone… All the things she refused to acknowledge came to the surface, hitting Luke in the face as he realized that they might not all be lies.

He hated to think about her that way, to think that he didn’t trust her enough or that she didn’t trust him enough or whatever the fuck was wrong with them. But as he saw how Y/N hugged a stranger, all his thoughts went out the window.

“Who is that?” He asked no one in particular.

“Who?” Bethany asked in response, following Luke’s stare towards her friend “Oh, that’s Josh”

“Josh? As in Josh Benthlow? Her ex?”

Beth furrowed her eyebrows as she saw the look of pure rage on the blonde’s eyes “Uh, yeah? But you got something wrong there” She said, “They never dated”

Y/N laughed at something Josh said, pushing him playfully on the shoulder as he kept telling his story. Luke recognized the look in his eyes; it was the same way he used to look at Y/N when they first met: Pure adoration. And, he didn’t know if it was the alcohol in his system that was making him see things that weren’t there, but he could swear he saw Y/N flirt back at him.

“Friends don’t act like that” He spat, taking another sip from his drink, already losing count of how many he had that night.

“Hey!” Beth called his attention, taking the drink from him “That’s enough now. Alcohol is making you act like a complete asshole”

“I-”

“I don’t care.” She said, interrupting whatever he had to say before he even said it “Look, I get that you’re getting used to all of this. But you need to stop with the jealous act right this instant. She’s famous, yes, they all are and that means that you will have to share her with the world whether you like it or not. It’s her dream after all, and besides Y/N would never do something like that to hurt you and you know it”

Did he?

Not long after the group decided to go back to the hotel, having already stayed at that party longer than necessary given that they have a show the next day. The ride back was quiet, everyone either being too tired to even speak or too smart to try and cut the tension that was being created by the new couple’s behavior. Even when Y/N sat next to Luke he didn’t acknowledge her, keeping his eyes looking outside the window the whole car ride.

Y/N was one of the first ones to get out of the car, walking up to the elevators and not waiting for anyone as the doors closed.

Luke clenched his jaw as he contemplated not going to their room tonight, fighting with the feeling of not wanting to see her and the feeling of never wanting to let her go.

“You need to go there right now,” Calum said, taking a step next to Luke but not looking in his eyes “Having been her friend for so long I can see that she’s upset… Nah, fuck that. Even idiots can see that she’s upset”

Luke scoffed “She’s the one that’s upset?” Voice laced with sarcasm.

Calum hummed “Guess not every idiot can see that” He pressed the button of the elevator and hoped in with Kat, not waiting for Luke as the door closed in his face, but not before saying “You’re not the only one hurting, you know?”

It took another 20 minutes for Luke to open the door of their room. Again, Y/N was nowhere to be seen, but the light coming from under the closed bathroom door let him know that she was there.

He sat at the edge of the bed, hands covering his face as he now wished he hadn't drunk as much as he did. His head was spinning, he couldn’t decipher if it were because of the alcohol or because of his intrusive thoughts that wouldn’t leave his head.

Y/N got out of the bathroom for what it felt like an eternity later. She was wearing her Spongebob pajama and her hair was tied in a messy bun. Her makeup-less face looked tired as she didn’t glance at Luke before sitting by her side of the bed.

They stayed in silence for another five minutes before she decided to speak.

“Are we going to talk about tonight?” She said, voice neutral of any emotion.

Luke scoffed “Now you want to talk?”

She ignored him “I didn’t see you all night, Luke. I was worried”

“Oh, you were?” He mocked with cruel sarcasm as he got up from the bed and started pacing around the room “Funny way to show it you weren’t around!”

“I wasn’t around?! Luke, you spent half the night outside! Every time I came over you were nowhere to be found!”

“And every time I was there you were too busy talking to other people”

“I was working, Luke!” She said with a groan, massaging her temple as she turned to look at him “It’s part of my job to make connections at these kinds of events. And if you didn’t notice, Calum, Ashton, and Michael did the same”

“Well, you must be pretty damn good at your job then!”

Y/N looked at him, shocked by the way he was speaking to her “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Luke was angry at her question. How could she not know? “Why don’t you ask Josh what I mean?”

“Oh my fucking GOD,” She said with the loudest tone he’s ever heard her talk “That’s what this is all about?! He’s a friend!”

“I was a friend, too and we still fucked!” Luke matched her tone of voice, probably waking the people in the room next to theirs.

Y/N laughed humorlessly “You have no right to-”

“And whose fault is that? Huh? Whose fault is that I cannot call you my girlfriend in front of other people? Whose fault is that I have to stand to the side and watch you flirt with every guy on earth just because “it’s your job”?” He asked “Y/N, I’m trying so hard for you to let me in and the only thing you do is push me away! Are you embarrassed by me in any way?”

“No,” She said, finally meeting his eyes and seeing no more anger in them, just an incredible sadness for both of them “No, of course not”

“Then why?” Luke asked, taking a step towards her and cupping her cheek with one hand “Why can’t you let me protect you? Why can’t I be with you freely? I know some things are hard for you to talk about, love. I get that. But I’m drowning here, not knowing what to think or what to say to make you trust me”

Y/N stayed quiet as she looked into his eyes before looking away. Luke sighed.

“We don’t have to talk about this right now. But we’ll have to do it eventually”

“I know,” She said with a string of voice.

“Sorry for the things I said”

“I’m sorry, too”

Luke wanted to kiss her, to comfort her. Even though he is still mad at her, he still has this need to protect her from the wrongs of the world. But she’s got to let him in first.

Instead, Luke placed a kiss on her head and walked towards the bathroom to get changed for the night. When he came back Y/N was already asleep on her side of the bed, her back turned to Luke’s side.

He let out a sigh as he turned off the lights, laying down facing the other side as he murmured a “Good night” Barely missing the soft sniff she gave in response.

The next morning Luke woke up without her by his side. He felt a tug in his heart as he remembered all the things he said to her, the cruel way in which he implied that it was all her fault when both of them had a bit of blame to put in their names. He wouldn’t be surprised if in the middle of the night she decided to leave and sleep somewhere else.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, ready to give her a call and apologize properly, hoping she’d pick up. But just as he was about to press the call button, the door opened.

Y/N walked in, sandwich and orange juice in hand. A small smile came to her lips when she saw him already awake.

“Hey,” She said softly, almost like if there were someone else in the room that was sleeping “You missed breakfast, so I bought you this. It’s now much but-“

“Thank you,” Luke said with complete honesty.

Y/N nodded, walking up to his nightstand to place the drink and the sandwich. But before she could walk away again, Luke grabbed her softly by the arm.

“Luke-“

“I’m sorry,” He said, his baby blue eyes looking into hers. He was sad to see no emotion in them compared with how shiny they were yesterday before the fight “I didn’t mean it”

Y/N let out a sigh as she sat on the bed next to him “No, you’re not” She said almost resignedly “And yes, you did. And it’s okay, I deserve it”

Luke shook his head, feeling even worse than before “No, Y/N I was out of place and-“

“You were, but that didn’t make your words any less than truthful. I hurt you, Luke. Even without wanting to” She said with a broken voice, but the tears didn’t come “But I want to change that. Tonight, we can talk after the concert. Okay?”

“I don’t want to pressure you” His hand flew to her face, placing a strand of hair behind her back. She smiled softly and kissed the palm of his hand.

“I know, but I want to” Finally, she got up from the bed and started walking into the bathroom, gathering some of her things. “We’ll start early today with some interviews and sound check, and the girls wanted to go shopping so they’ll meet us there. I will send a car for you before the concert and then we’ll talk. Alright?”

She grabbed her back and headed towards the door, giving Luke one last look and a soft smile before she left.

Luke didn't forget how she didn’t kiss him before she closed the door.

*

The day passed by and Luke was still in their room. He sat in front of the table with his notebook and pen, writing up words that, at that moment, reminded him of her.

He didn’t like how they were acting with each other. How quick everything went to shit after last night’s mistakes when words were louder than actions until those words became apologies.

Y/N said he didn’t mean his apology, and deep down he knew it to be true. He regrets the way he told her, admiring that he would have handled things a little better than he did. But he meant what he said about her pushing him away by not communicating. They were both trying but apparently, they sucked at it.

Truth was, there was no one to blame. Truth was, they were both at fault. And, truth was that he would still fall to his knees for her the moment she asked. Because he had never loved someone as much as he loved her.

When the time of the concert was almost upon him, he quickly jumped into the shower, ignoring all the beeps and rings of his phone as his thoughts and hopes filled his mind. He thought about what he was going to say to her, and he hoped that they could finally get past this and leave this whole situation behind; to start over and just be free.

He was putting on his shirt when his phone started beeping again, finally checking it to see what the fuss was all about.

Thousands upon thousands of notification flooded his screen, and they all said the same thing:

“Y/N AND MADDEN BACK TOGETHER?!”

“THE ENCOUNTER OF THE YEAR! MADDEN BANKS AND Y/N L/N SEEN TOGETHER AGAIN TALKING ON THE OUTSIDES OF THE VENUE”

“OMG Y/N X MADDEN SHIPPER REJOICE AS THE COUPLE SEEMS TO HAVE REKINDLED THEIR RELATIONSHIP AFTER CHEATING SCANDAL”

Luke felt as if an elephant was standing on top of his chest, losing his balance and falling to the bed with his phone in hand, unable to look away from his screen. 

His breathing became elaborated as his eyes filled with tears as he read the tweets and article titles. He knew he shouldn’t click on them. He knew. And yet…

“Lead singer of the band 5 Seconds of Summer, Y/N L/N was last seen talking to her ex-boyfriend, Madden Banks, in a secluded alley outside the venue where the band is going to perform their concert tonight. 

We last saw the couple last year around August when Madden announced their breakup after cheating scandals came out to the surface. None of the parties made any comments about it, but it was set to believe that Y/N was the one who committed the mistakes after a set of tweets on Bank’s personal account where it said that he was feeling “broken-hearted” by the situation and he hoped no one had to get through that ever again. 

Now it seems that the past is the past! As Y/N and Madden were caught by paparazzi talking again, and by the looks on both their faces it seemed like their relationship was not over after all! 

We are still waiting for confirmations from either of them but congratulations to the couple ❤️”

A set of pictures were attached to the article. All of them of bad quality and from questionable sources. 

On the first one, you could see Madden smiling with Y/N’s back facing the camera. On the second one, Madden was closer to her, almost cradling her face as if to kiss her. The third picture had Madden pointing out the paparazzi, a surprised expression plastered on his face as Y/N appeared out of focus. The last picture had Y/N walking away with Madden following behind, both of them with angry faces seemingly for being interrupted. 

Luke was gripping on his phone tightly, a sense of rage coming over him as he wiped his tears furiously and walked up the door. Turning off his phone before he could read Y/N’s message:

Y/N: it’s not true! Let me explain…

*

He did not go to the concert that night, nor did he stay in their bedroom, opting for sleeping in the room that was originally assigned to him. 

His emotions walked him into a bar last night, letting him drown his sorrows in alcohol as he slowly drifted away from his senses. He doesn’t remember getting to the hotel, but he does remember not wanting to be with her that night. Feeling betrayed and used, what was the point? 

It was pretty late when he woke up the next morning, too late for Y/N to even be in the hotel knowing that they still needed to do a lot of press before traveling to their next destination. It was sufficient to say that he was not going to go with them. 

He was about to book a flight when he noticed his phone died while being turned off last night. He was in such a rush that he forgot to bring his charger with him, but he felt confident that it was safe for him to go back to her room now that she was gone. He would pack all his things and leave, he was not about to endure any of this shit anymore, no matter how much it hurts him. 

When he opened the door to her room, however, Luke noticed that he was not alone. 

“You didn’t come last night” 

Y/N was standing by the window, looking at the street through the thin curtain, hoping she might catch a glimpse of Luke walking back to her. She was wearing the hotel’s robe and had her hair tied in a ponytail. Her voice was fragile, tired, and broken as if she spent all night crying. 

“Good,” thought Luke “at least we’ll both be miserable” 

Luke didn’t answer that, instead, he just asked “I thought you’d be doing the press tour” 

She shook her head, her back still facing him as she sniffed “I couldn’t go. I didn’t know where you were” 

He would’ve thought it was touching and he might’ve felt bad for her if she hadn’t shattered his heart the night before. So he said nothing. 

“I needed you last night, Luke,” She said, voice a little firmer as she finally turned around. Luke’s heart ached when he saw her delicate figure, she looked sick, pale, and tired. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red from all the crying. Part of him wanted to go to her and hold her, but her betrayal was still too fresh on his skin.

Luke scoffed “Sure you did” He didn’t intend for his voice to sound with such malice, but it was almost as if his tongue had a brain on itself “Was Madden not enough?” 

“Stop,” 

“Is he here?” He asked, voice mocking interest as he walked around the room “C’mon Asshole!” He called, opening the closet doors and walking into the bathroom “You won, motherfucker, you can have her! It’s not like it’s hard anyway” 

Her eyes widened at his words, cheeks turning pink at the realization of the insult “Luke!”

“Was this part of your plan?” He asked, turning towards her with nothing but the rage inside his eyes “To bring me here to make him jealous? To make me fall for you so easily? Is that why we never went public? Ha! Should’ve known you just wanted a free pass to whore around while still making sure you have a secure fuck waiting back at the hotel” 

Y/N froze. Not even Luke could believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, but he was too far gone in his own anger to process them or to take them back. 

“This is the part where you apologize,” She said, eyes filling with tears she refused to spill. 

“No, this is the part where I tell you to fuck off” Luke spat, taking a step towards her, not realizing how she flinched as she took a step back “You know, I tried so fucking hard for months to make you happy. And every day I read those fucking articles that were talking shit about you and every fucking day I told myself that those weren’t real. That you weren’t like that… surprise, surprise! Looks like the cat is out of the bag. Makes sense! That’s why you never wanted to talk, you never wanted to admit to what you did because you never take any fucking responsibilities for the damages you cause! I thought I knew you, at least some parts of you. Turns out everyone is right about you. Every fucking word of it” 

He turned around, ready to grab his things and go, but the adrenaline was kicking in and he just couldn’t stop.

“Tell Madden that he’s an idiot for taking you back,” He said with his back turned to her “That he should’ve left your cheating ass alone. Let you get what you deserve”

“I never cheated” She mumbled, voice barely above a whisper. 

He scoffed “Yeah, right” 

“I never fucking cheated!” Y/N raised his voice, making Luke turn around to face her. Her face was red with tears and she had her fist clenched to her sides, knuckles white from all the pressure she was putting in.

“I never cheated on Madden! I never fucking cheated on you! On anyone! He cheated on me, repeatedly and with several people for all the course of our relationship! I never touched a person outside ANY of my relationships. I have been nothing but faithful to you and now you’re throwing that shit at me without knowing an ounce of my side of the story?! 

You want to know, Luke, why I never tell the story as it was? Why it’s so fucking hard for me to tell the story even to the people I love?” 

It was a challenge, he knew from the look in her eyes that she was not going to stay quiet any longer. She didn’t even wait for his answer. 

“I was fucking abused, Luke! Physically, mentally, sexually… you fucking name it! During that whole relationship. Want me to tell you the details or you could figure it out yourself?! I was getting beaten almost daily! I had to hide the bruises and cuts in front of the guys as they slowly watched me fall apart. I had to lie to them for YEARS because I genuinely thought he loved me. He said he did so I believed him. It wasn’t until one night where he got too far that I had to tell myself that it was enough. But what could I say? I was so fucking embarrassed I couldn’t go to the media that calls me a liar every chance they have! I couldn’t go to the police because he has money and could easily get away with it! I was so fucking alone until I met you and… You took his side” 

Luke felt like his heart was taking a punch with every word that she said. Every tear that fell off her eyes was like a knife in the back. The guilt was eating him inside out, crashing into him like a tsunami. He should’ve kept his mouth shut, he shouldn’t have let his emotions take the reins, he should’ve... He felt all of his emotions turn to mush, all but shame as he stared into her eyes knowing he was the one who fucked up. 

“Y/N-“

“I needed you last night when he cornered me. I needed you by my side as I broke down backstage because you weren’t answering your phone. How do you think I felt when I came into our room and found it empty? I was ready to tell you everything and then you just decided that wasn’t worth it anymore. That I wasn’t worthy anymore. All without giving me a chance” She cried, shattering sobs running through her body as she remembered the feeling of hopelessness she had “Not only that, but I come to find this on your side of the bed”

She threw his notebook at him, he didn’t need to open it to know what she read. Already regretting leaving it there. 

“Sometimes, you're a stranger in my bed

Don't know if you love me or you want me dead.

Some days, you're the best thing in my life

Sometimes when I look at you, I see my wife

Then you turn into somebody I don't know

And you push me away

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet

Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

Late-night devil, put your hands on me

And never let go” 

She recited the words by memory, having read them over and over again as she waited for him to come back.

“Is that really how you see me, Luke?” She asked, voice broken as she looked into his eyes. 

Luke felt his body tremble with shame as he looked at her. He has never seen her look so sad and fragile before, the smile he loved so much was gone and he knew he might never see it again. He wanted to scream that that’s now how he saw her at all. Those words were written out of frustration, out of anger. He wanted to tell her that she’s the most amazing, loving, strong, intelligent person he know but... how could he even look her in the eyes?

He knew that he went too far. That he should’ve given her a chance to explain what happened instead of just letting the media fill his brain with lies; lies he believed without question because of his insecurities. He broke the strongest girl he’s ever known, but she was still standing. 

Despite the hurt, he caused her, she was still standing in front of him. Demanding answers he doesn’t know how to give. Still being so much braver than him.

“Y/N, I-“ He began, voice breaking as he was left speechless. How could he ask for her forgiveness now that he broke every ounce of trust she held for him? 

“Luke, I think you should leave,” She said, rounding her arms around her torso as she looked back at the window. Unable to hold her gaze to him any longer. 

“No,” Luke begged of her. Pleaded, even “Y/N, baby don’t-“ 

“Leave” She repeated more firmly “If I’m such a monster, the best thing we can do is for you to go home” 

She turned her back to him once again, and he knew that he had just lost the battle he was too scared to even fight.

Y/N cried silent tears as she heard him gather his belongings and pack his bags, feeling as if she might collapse into the floor if she weren’t holding herself too tightly. If she concentrated, she could hear him cry, too, until he closed the last of his bags and walked through the door.

Because, after all, he would still go to the ends of the world if she asked.

.

.

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash​ @alltimesos @kingxnichole @givebuckyhisplumsnow @hufflehemm @girl-toxxic

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Together 4: Glass.

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CW: explicit language and content, torture, captivity, wounds, implied sex work, strangulation, choking, suicide (hanging), suicidal thoughts/explicit planning, mouth whump description (bleeding, asphyxiation, choking), breathing, attempted noncon, bruises, beating, conditioning, dehumanization, noncon touching, drugs, alcohol, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, whumpee as caretaker, letmeknowifimissedany

August once asked what they do to me. Mouthed it, like he couldn’t stop himself from forming the words, but didn’t bother voicing it out of horror or just because he knew I couldn’t answer. I wouldn’t fucking know where to begin anyway.

Probably down on my knees.

At this point, our situation boggles my mind even more than when they trained me to be silent. That was logical when you psychoanalyzed it but shit got fucked sideways when August came into the picture. It’s just senseless now, an unending labyrinth of manipulation and control. Double the captives means double the fun. I was lucky to be alone for so long. There were two others before him but never like this. In the grand scheme of things, they’re all mere drops of water in the swimming pool of my time here. It was another woman first, although I never learned her name. She seemed like a Tiffany or a Heather and was really pretty, too but never trusted me. Wouldn’t even look at me, as if I wasn’t just as much of a prisoner as her.

Poor thing was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw something she shouldn’t have. She didn’t last long at all. Unraveled faster than you can say, “Money’s on the table.” You’d think she’d have a little more grit. I mean you hear stories and can only imagine the shit they put up with in that industry, but it was like something out of an exorcist movie. Crying hysterically, throwing herself at the walls and doors, and trying to strangle the life out of me like I was sitting on a key. They came in and intervened but not before she’d purpled my neck so I could barely breathe. That was the only time they ever took the shock collar off. She spent the next bit catatonic and then one day when they brought me back, she was dangling by her own diamond-studded jeggings from a pipe on the ceiling, toes just a few inches from the ground. Damn slow way to die. They took out the pipe.

I’ve given it a hell of a lot of thought myself. She’d obviously been trying something similar with smacking herself into the concrete walls, but that will only get you a concussion that makes it feel like you’ve gone a few rings deeper into Hell. No, thank you. My choice would be the naked lightbulb on the wall, next to the door. If I shoved it far enough down my throat before it broke, I’m pretty sure I would asphyxiate before they could do anything. The key would be to bleed enough into my bronchial tube and inhale enough shards of glass to shred my lungs a bit. A little internal bleeding down my esophagus wouldn’t hinder the cause but certainly wouldn’t be fatal on its own, never mind the risk of just cutting my tongue and mouth to ribbons if it breaks too early. In that case, I’d be fucked. That’s why Wyatt leaves it there, uncovered, even though other lightbulbs down the hallway have metal cages screwed over them. Tempting me to risk it. He also knows that, now, I’d never leave August. I feel responsible and that’s why he holds my life in his hands. The torture will never stop and August is better off with me to take care of him in whatever way I can, even if it doesn’t even come close to reparation.

—

The next guy was probably mid-thirties and built like a truck. I can’t begin to imagine what he did to wind up here. He didn’t take to captivity well either. Everything they’d put into him, he’d let out onto me. The first time, he was angling to get a sweeter kind of release than just wailing on me. I was pretzeled around one of the legs of my bed frame, while he punched and clawed at me, so hell-bent on not letting go, I was screaming my head off for help despite the collar. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Wyatt doesn’t like anyone to touch me. That went over like a lead balloon. Playing off his proclivity like somehow I had any right to decide not to be raped. Wyatt would have stopped it anyway and I could have saved myself the next few days of my bunkmate beating the living shit out of me undisturbed as long as he left it at just that. As soon as Wyatt decided I’d learned my lesson, or was sick of seeing me limping and bruised, that guy was fish food.

The second bed was empty for a long time after that even though I’m sure there were others. Wyatt has a list a mile-long of people he’d like to get his hands on for one reason or another, but I never saw them. Wyatt would still bring me out to toy with me in his usual ways. The buffoons would bring me out when he wasn’t around for entertainment but they know better than to touch me more than cursory shoves to keep me cooperating and even then, more often with their phones or other inanimate objects, rather than their hands. To them, it was endlessly entertaining to get me high out of my mind and mess with me or make me play Emma Fortyhands until I puked all over myself. I should have known Wyatt wasn’t wasting any time during this plateau of suffering. From what August says, he was here for a handful of days, maybe even two weeks, before they made us roommates. Wyatt just talked to him, drilling him for hours. He had been screening him, looking for the perfect match before binding us together in torment.

They always take me first and bring me straight to Wyatt. He likes to talk to me about what he has planned for August, trying to get a rise out of me. Like I’d be dumb enough to think that any amount of disgust or fear on my part would make a lick of difference for August. If anything, Wyatt would double it just for my reaction. Next, Wyatt makes sure I’ll make it through what he has planned for me without passing out. The humane thing would be to give me a second meal or something but instead, he gives me whatever his henchmen have lying around. An unpredictable twist added to my slow destruction. I’m lucky if it’s an energy shot or some gross drink that tastes like fruit-flavored battery acid and leaves me shaking. More often, it’s “just a bump” of something that makes my heart race and the whole session so unbearable I’m screaming in my head at the top of my lungs until I come down.

One time, he gave me a tab of acid. His favorite kind of experiment, the ultimate demonstration of his success. To no one’s surprise, I’m conditioned enough that I still didn’t speak and followed every instruction. That was, no contest, my worst day on this fucked-sideways merry-go-round. I was tripping so hard. Too slow and too fast at the same time, no distinction between myself and everything around me. Wyatt’s barbaric plan turned into a barbaric fuck-up. A small part of me understood what I had done even before I came down and when I stumbled out, I was met by silence instead of the usual dumb peanut-gallery comments. They threw me into the shower after, like always, but left me there for hours since I was still tripping. I was hysterical by the time they let me out. By some miracle, or just Wyatt perversely delaying the end, he had actually called a real doctor.

—

Today, Wyatt hands me a double shot of whiskey because it’s “cute” to watch me struggle when I’m tipsy. I knock it back in one swallow, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that frightens me. He finishes getting me ready and then smacks me on the ass to get me moving. Once I’m in the room, he starts feeding me instructions even though I already know what he wants from me today. This way, he’s in control of my every action, like he’s thinking for me, while I just focus on getting air into my lungs, fighting through the alcohol hitting my bloodstream and burning in my empty stomach. I can throw it up in the shower later if I need to. I just need to survive this.

By the time I stumble out, I’m inevitably a mess. Crying, shaking, and covered in sweat, even on the days I get the raw, straight edge experience. One of the baboons walks me to the small concrete room, empty except the industrial-looking shower head in the ceiling above the drain. The controls are on the outside of the room which is how they make sure the water is ice cold and stays on for exactly five minutes. They take the collar off and I get a bar of soap before they lock me in. It used to be orange soap bars that made my skin feel dry even wet. After that, it was green with the same problem but a stronger smell that clung to me all the time, which wasn’t half bad. Lately, it’s a white, rounder bar, that’s distinctly feminine, and leaves my skin soft, which would be concerning if I wasn’t already too balls-deep in my worst nightmare to care.

I used to dance in and out of the freezing shower while I soaped up but now I stay under the whole time. It’s the only thing that makes any damn sense anymore, the one small touch of reality in this shit storm. I stand under the frigid water and then shake and shiver once it’s turned off until the cold becomes a buzz on my skin and in my veins. Depending on the day, I wait for seconds or hours until they toss me a small, scratchy towel and clean clothes. The waiting is part of it. Not because I’m covered in goosebumps, muscles cramping so that I have to curl in on myself for heat, but because of what I know is waiting for me next.

When they finally let me out and lock me into the collar, it’s all I can do not to run back to our basement hole as fast as my legs will carry me to make sure August hasn’t bled out or gone into shock while they kept me from him. It’s all I care about anymore, helping him survive, making him as comfortable as possible. Honestly, it is the least I can do. It’s my fault he’s here at all, kept to be part of a set. Not to mention the heinous torture. If I had known, I would have done my damndest to kill him before it ever even started.

And I would have inhaled that fucking lightbulb immediately after.

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Taglist: @deluxewhump

[hichi842]

Requested by: @fakeanimefanntnt

Pairing: Midoriya x reader

Warnings⚠️: None

Word Count: 3149

S/o That Comes From a Quirkless Country

You stepped off the plane in Masutafu, Japan. A beautiful town known for the famous UA High School.

You looked around the airport, nothing seemed really out of the ordinary from what you were you used to.

No one seemed to being breathing fire or levatating in mid air, even the people looked exactly like they did back home.

“Well I guess they still do have laws restricting their quirks, huh?” You muttered to yourself. You continued to walk towards the exit of the airport.

You were pretty tense, looking at all the people around you knowing that almost every single one of them possessed some kind of supernatural power and could use it in a moments time.

You had only heard of quirks in passing. When you were young, you almost didn’t believe they were real.

Though as you grew up, it started to be discussed more and more in your life.

About how 80% of people had these abilities and how you were completely shut out from them all.

You see, the island you grew up on was one made of people who did not want to explore the extraordinary, who didn’t want to explore the world of quirks.

They all had different reasons for coming to the island. For some, quirks were against their religion, some just didn’t like the idea of quirks, others were born quirkless and came for escape from the constant torment that people would give them.

As for you, well you didn’t really have a choice to be there. You were born under parents who didn’t except what they called ‘freaks of nature’. They hated the idea of a quirkfull society and so they lived among people who felt the same as them.

Although, you didn’t have a quirk yourself, you were definitely interested in them. You just didn’t know whether you liked the idea of quirks or not.

It wasn’t that they were bad, but they could definitely be used for not so good things and if you went into a society where you were completely defenseless from those sort of things, you could loose your life within a second.

Nonetheless, you still wanted to see them, they just fascinated you from the first time you heard of them.

So you took the steps to be able to foreign exchange in a town known for strong quirks. It wasn’t much, but at least you could finally see what all the fuss was about.

Your parents were not happy with this, but you convinced them after years of begging and so now here you were, walking to the house you would be staying for the next few years.

As you walked down the street, occasionally looking down at your phone for directions, you noticed all the different buildings and places as well as the people you passed by.

Once again, you were met with nothing but what seemed normal.

‘For a place filled with super powers, you’d think there would be something a little more interesting.’ You sighed to yourself, continuing on your journey to your place.

Though after about a half hour of walking, you sorta ran into a slight inconvenience.

“Where the hell am I?”

Yup, you were completely lost. You looked at your surroundings to of course see unfamiliar buildings.

“Damn it, what purpose does a map app have if it only makes you confused!” You said under your breath as you started fidgeting with you screen, adjusting the map of your current area to see where you were.

“U-um... excuse me ma’am, do you need some help?” A stranger asked, standing in front of you.

“Ah! Yes, actually!” You looked up at the person to see a young man about your age.

He had green hair that was black at the roots, his eyes the same shade as his hair, and he’s had freckles which complimented his round shaped face.

His outfit was pretty plain. A white t-shirt that had the words ALL M on them. You guessed that was a reference to what you knew as the top hero in this place called All Might. He was also wearing cargo shorts, a pair of red shoes, and a yellow school bag strapped to his shoulders.

He was kinda... pretty... in a way. Though, you weren’t going to admit that to yourself.

“Uh...” you hesitated, realizing that you were staring at him. “I-I’m kinda new here and I’m just looking for my new place, but I got loss.” You chuckled at your own stupidity.

He told you it’s totally fine and that it could get a bit confusing navigating before asking you for the address.

You were a bit skeptical giving a random dude on the street your address, but you didn’t get a bad feeling from him and he overall seemed like a kind person, so you decided that it would be better to trust him then try to find the place yourself.

You gave him the address and he smiled. “I recognize that street name. It’s a about a twenty minute walk that way.” He pointed to your left. “Do you want me to walk you there or do you just want to go by yourself, I could give you more specific instructions?” He asked.

You considered the options. “Well if it’s not an issue, do you mind walking me their, I’m not very good with directions.” You smiled awkwardly.

He nodded his head enthusiastically and started walking while motioning you to come with him.

You immediately started to trail him, an awkward silence following you guys.

“So... what’s your name?” You attempted to start a conversation.

“Izuku Midoriya, how about you?”

“I’m (Y/n) (L/n), nice to meet you Midoriya.” You smiled at him.

“Same here.” He replied. “So where are from? You said you were new here right?”

You considered whether you should tell him or not, you had done quite a bit of research on the outside of your island and so you knew a lot about people from these countries, but you weren’t sure how they felt about the people where you are from. For all you knww they could hate you.

“Um... well.” You hesitated. “Do you know about those countries where people live without quirks and such...?” You asked, hopefully seeing how he would react.

He looked at you with shocked eyes. “Wait are you from one of them?!” He shouted.

“Well... yeah, I am. Specifically Hakosaka Island.” You looked away from him in fear of his response.

“Seriously!!! That’s so cool!” You turned to him with a shocked expression, a blush coated your cheeks.

Though to your surprise, he started rummaging through his bag and brought out a notebook and pen.

“Do you have a quirk yourself? Is the technology different there? Why did you decide to live there? Have you ever seen someone use a quirk? Why did you leave? Do you have certain rules of leaving the island? Do you get to see quirks on tv or in books? What are the people like there?”

One after another, questions started leaving the boys mouth and despite you not saying a word, he had already started writing something down in his notebook.

Although it was a bit sudden and overwhelming, it wasn’t bad by any means. You were just glad he didn’t hate you or anything.

You giggled a bit. “Uh... how about we stop by my place so I could drop off my stuff. Then we could maybe go to a teashop or something and I could answer your questions.”

He noticed what he started doing and immediately blushed. “Oh my- I’m so sorry, I have a habit of doing this.” He fiddled with his pen. “Though, if you don’t mind, could we please do that. I’ve never met someone from a quirkless society.” He smiled at you.

You nodded to him as you guys continued walking while making other small talk.

Once you had gotten to your place, you insisted on Midoriya coming in, but he refused and said that he’ll just wait for you outside.

So you made your way into the house, it was your first time there and the place was pretty nice from what you can see, but you made sure not to check it out just yet since you didn’t want to keep the boy waiting.

So you sat down all the bags that you were carrying and made your way back outside.

“You ready?” You asked him as you approached him. He gave a quick ‘yes’ before you guys started to make your way down the sidewalk.

“Do you know any cafes around here?” You asked.

“Sure! There’s one a couple blocks away.” He told you and you gave him an ‘okay’ before walking along side him as he led the way.

You had only met the guy about thirty minutes ago, but for some reason you felt oddly comfortable around him, like he was an old friend

He just seemed so caring and kind, like you could easily trust him with your life. It was just a warmth that you have never felt from another person and you could tell he was incredibly special.

You snapped out of your thoughts as the two of you turned a corner that led you to the cafe.

Once you guys got in the cozy looking cafe, you both sat down at an empty table before going to order. You got your favorite drink and Midoriya just got a tea. You guys then went to sit down again.

“Anyway, what did you want to ask me?” You asked and the boy immediately started asking you multiple questions about your island and you yourself, all while simultaneously writing the information down. By the time you guys were done, it had already been an hour and a half.

“I think that’s all I have. Thank you so much, you really didn’t need to do this for me.” He bowed his head slightly.

“It’s no problem, though do you think I could ask you a few questions as well?”

“Of course.” He replied.

You grinned at the beaming male. “I guess I’ll start with, do you have a quirk?”

He nodded. “Yup! It’s pretty much a super power quirk, I can enhance my puches, kicks, or jumps.”

“Wow! That’s so cool!” You beamed.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I would show you, but I can’t unless there’s an emergency of course.” He told you, you already knew this information, but there was something a bit off with it.

“Wait, what do you mean in an emergency? I thought you can’t use quirk in public at all. I mean, unless you’re a hero.” Maybe you were just over thinking it, but you needed to know this information if you were going to be living here.

Midoriya looked a little shocked about how much you knew on quirks. “Oh! Yeah, you’re right, but I’m actually a hero in training and I have my provisional license, so as long as there is an emergency, I can use my quirk freely in public.” He revealed, rubbing the back of his neck in an awkward manner.

Your jaw dropped for a second. “Hero in training.” Doesn’t that mean that he goes to a hero school. Wait, but if were in Masutafu and he goes to a hero school, does that mean that he’s a student a UA High. Like the greatest hero school of all time.

You shook your head lightly, for all you know he could be going to a different school and just was visiting here.

Even so, it was pretty coincidental that you met a hero in training on your first hour here. What’s the chances of that really?

“W-woah seriously, that’s so cool! What school do you train at?” You asked him.

His face turned red by the pure admiration and curiosity in your voice. “I-I go to UA.” He replied.

“That’s incredible!!! You must be super strong then!” You smiled so wide in an innocent manner.

“Aha, t-thank you.” He was pretty much a tomato at this point with all the praise he was receiving from you.

“It’s pretty cool, though do to recent villain attacks, we actually have to live on campus.” He paused for a second, thinking about something.

“W-which reminds me that it’s almost time for curfew to end. I think I have to go. I-I mean, I still have time to drop you off at your place if you need me to.” He offered.

“Oh okay. If you don’t mind, that would be great!” You smiled.

After that, you both got up and made your way out the cafe and down the street.

You asked Midoriya a couple more questions about his school and such and he answered them happily.

Though, as you guys were approaching you house, disaster struck.

From a store that you guys just walked by, an explosion erupted from the inside. You saw people running from the burning building while screaming in fear.

You on the other hand, just stood there, completely frozen. You didn’t even notice Midoriya running into the store to help evacuate people.

You weren’t sure how to react to this, you weren’t even sure what was happening. All you could do was stare.

After a few moments, someone walked out of the store, the person was a middle aged man and floating right above his hand was a small ball of flames.

You knew this was a quirk, but actually seeing it with your own eyes was a whole other expirence and not a good one to say the least.

It was terrifying, thinking that a quirk can cause so much distruction and bring the fear out in so many people.

You noticed just how defenseless you were against these powers, how you could loose your life so easily in this world.

What were you doing here? You didn’t belong here.

The man turned to you and started making his way to where you were, a sinister grin on his face as his palm ignighted even more aggressive flames.

He started taunting you in some sort of way, but you couldn’t hear the taunts, all you could hear was your pounding heart beat and some sort of ringing in your ears.

Everything went so slow. You breaths were ragged and sweat formed on your face. You couldn’t move or say anything.

You were beyond horrorfied and as the man approached you step by step.

All you could think was how you wished you stayed home. How you wished that you never went out of your safe and secure island. How could people live like this?

“(L/n)!!!” You heard a shout from your side before seeing green sparks all around you as everything else blurred

In a seconds notice you were in Midoriya’s arms out of the villain’s sight.

“Are you okay? The Pros will be here soon so let’s get you out of here.” You heard the boy speak down at you, but you couldn’t process a words he was saying.

You just stared at him with wide eyes as a green sparks from earlier shrouded the two of you. Was this his quirk? Was that why you were moving to fast?

So many thoughts circled through your head, it was so overwhelming and you were sure what to do.

What did you get yourself into?

As soon as Midoriya saw the expression on your face, one of total fear and shock, he understood the situation.

This was your first time ever seeing a quirk and it wasn’t very pleasant experience either. No wonder you were horrified.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay (L/n).” He tried to reassure you as he started running with his quirk all the way to your home.

As soon as he made it, he set you down on the front yard of the house. You wobbled and would have fallen if Midoriya didn’t catch you.

“Woah there!” He steadied you and waited until you were in a stable condition.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking into your eyes with concern.

“I-I don’t know.” You confessed.

“Everything’s okay, we’re away from the danger, can I see your keys so I could let you in?” He asked.

It took you a second to register what he said, but as soon as you did, you fumbled in your pocket for your keys. You handed them to him and he led you inside.

As soon as you got in, he sat you down on a unpacked box and went to go a glass of water for you.

You, on the other hand was finally getting out of your momentary shock and as soon Midoriya returned with water, you took it from him and gulped the entire cup down.

“I’m sorry.” You told the boy, ashamed of your actions.

He shook his head while crouching down beside you. “Don’t be, it must have been terrifying to see a quirk for the first time. Especially being used against you” You nodded to his phrase.

“But the Pro Heroes will handle it, he wasn’t a very strong villain anyways.”

“I-I just never thought I would be so weak against them. M-maybe I should go back home. I don’t think I can live here.” You stuttered realize just how scary this world is.

“I understand where you’re coming from. If you want to go back to your island, that’s all up to you and I have no right to say otherwise, but...” he hesitated before grasping your hands and looking into your eyes.

“Quirks are not just used for distruction, their is a whole other beautiful side to quirks and I think you would love it if you just explored it!” He beamed, sqeezing your hands slightly.

“So how about you stick around, you could meet my friends in school, and my teachers. We could go to all the quirk museums together and we could train together to get you stronger. Like I said, if you want to go home you can, but you could also stay here and I’ll make sure to be with you the entire time so you won’t have to worry! What do you say?” Midoriya’s eyes sparkled as he anticipated your reply.

You stared at him, all of a sudden your heart beat increased and you felt a flutter travel through you stomach as you stared into the boy’s emerald like eyes.

What was this feeling?

“I guess it wouldn’t be that bad.” Your words were shaky, but you smiled at him lightly.

He smiled as well and nodded. “Then It’s settled. How about I give you my number and we could hang out on my next off day.” He said letting, go of your hands and getting up from his crouched position.

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” You replied.

[magnumdays]

Magnum PI 3.06 - The Day Danger Walked In

Where do I even begin with this episode?

Once more this was just an overall enjoyable episode with all my favorite bits! Miggy, fun side plot for the guys, (though I missed the Ferrari and beautiful Hawaii aerial shots…)and once more a totally coincidental very dangerous situation because of mostly bad luck.

I think I’m going to start with the last one.

This episode features the second full episode of hostage-by situations we’ve gotten this season. What else have we had this season - 5 episodes in? Well, let’s see the two robbery/hostage episodes, Higgy being shot. A plane crash. Now Ethan getting shot. (Plus the weird stalker in the white SUV.) 3.04 was the only really case-like ‘normal’ episode we’ve had!

Everything is a bit higher stakes this season (we also got the Juliet/Ethan thing, suddenly giving us some emotional “danger”, making us wonder how this will impact Magnum and Higgins’ relationship.) Danger is around every coroner. So ride out a hurricane in peace? Nope, forget it!

And while I very much enjoy the higher stakes, it starts becoming a little unbelievable (what? A TV show being unbelievable?). But it’s more the coincidences of how things go from ‘bad’ to ‘OMG’ that sometimes get to me. How is it they can’t even go for a green card interview in peace? 10 minutes earlier of an appointment time, that episode would not have existed. Like being trapped in a storm isn’t enough, we gotta add armored car robbers! The probability of them picking La Marianna is just so small it annoys me a bit.

I do enjoy it more when Magnum and Higgins are on a case and that leads them into danger. Being shot or crashing a plane because you went out and looked for trouble makes sense (even if it’s very unbelievable too I know…) Danger just happening… it’s a little bit of lazy writing in my opinion. I mean wasn’t it enough that the storm warning came just as Ethan had arrived but not before they had time to leave on their date? That alone is a fairly big coincidence... 

I mean I still really enjoyed this episode. It wasn’t all hostage but a lot of stuff around it, and it was more of a backdrop. Something to cause problems that had to be solved by various people working together and thus showing off their dynamic and letting them interact (such as Ethan and Magnum with the gas + talk about Higgy, Magnum/Higgy/Ethan when he was shot, Kumu/ Shammy and even Ethan/Higgy a little.)

All the relationship stuff is really what this episode is all about. We got TC and Rick moments (with Thomas being a little bit of confidant) about trust and being partners, Ethan/Higgy/Magnum - how does Ethan fit in stuff, separate from that some Miggy feels and Juliet asking/hoping Thomas and Ethan if they can be friends because she thinks her and Ethan might get serious and just all around through-out the episode Juliet being quite worried about what Thomas thinks of her boyfriend. 

Yet while we got a lot of stuff going on (some quite coincidental), still it felt like just the right amount of everything. A bit of Ethan, some jealous Magnum, not too much case, just enough fun and games and crazy to make it never boring and some good heart to heart feel-y moments to give some pay off towards the end. It’s like they finally found their groove this season and almost every episode just feels like it’s really working on all levels!

My fave moments

I had some favorite moments; Gordon going “She really wanted that power saw” about Juliet when they were putting up boards at the beginning. She really did and it was so fun. I love when Higgy doesn't get what she wants and is a bit salt-y with someone other than Thomas...

Magnum being all “It’s like me dating a client!” Um hello excuse me but did you not ask out Mitten’s the cat’s owner? (Well her mom, if we’re being technical?) Sure it’s totally about Ethan having been Higgy’s doctor…

Juliet being all “Thomas likes you fine” but then becoming suddenly super observant of how he acts and then realizing he’s not fine with it? Going so far as to actually start on a “Ethan seems to think-” before Magnum interrupts with dead security guard photos.

Magnum actually admitting he’s not sure how to share Higgy with Ethan...

Rick being tormented by the fact that he lied to TC.

Juliet drying off Ethan and handing Magnum a towel and the way he smiles and then looks so forlorn! It’s just so...I don’t know but it gives me feels and I need gifs.

The last two minutes are my favorite. From Higgy showing up, Rick sending her over to paint with Magnum, her being all ‘looks fine’ ‘liar’, her thanking him for being nice but admitting “it was really stupid” about Ethan rushing in and getting shot. That was just amazing. 

That whole end bit was just so pure and sweet and my poor baby face when she’s all “it’s pretty serious, I want you guys to be friends”. Someone hug him.

(Also who taught you how to paint? You’re just painting in the same spot over and over again!! I know it’s about them having a moment but I’m low-key annoyed on Rick’s behalf on them both sucking at it!)

Speaking of annoyed… (Ethan rant-ish bits up) 

I’m not sure how I feel about Ethan being shot and all of them being locked in a freezer (I know would have preferred a Magnum/Higgy locked in a freezer and it’s very cold story-line...but you know, we take what we can get). Him being shot felt very random and I think we almost could have just done without it? Like he could have been smacked with a gun and had a head wound. I mean I guess the only reason for him getting shot in the leg is to make sure Juliet doesn't end up going ice skating with him… (Or to make sure we don’t have to see him while he’s getting his leg back in working order... )

What was that anyways?

Ethan plans on taking Higgy ice skating and we learn that Juliet has apparently never been from Magnum. A) Why do I love that Magnum just know this, like they talked about it? B) What respectable English person has never been ice skating? C) If Ethan knew she’d never been, why would he suggest it? Unless she asked to go. I mean I get maybe he was hoping for a cute ‘trust me, I won’t let you fall’ sort of situation, but he’s been on a number of dates with Higgy by now. He must know how she hates being well... not the best at something (everything...) Going skating was not really a good plan.

Also who the heck goes ice skating in HAWAII!!! I mean come on Ethan! You’re a doctor, you’re supposed to be smart. Why not have a romantic beach picnic, much better chances of something fun going down… I’m just saying. 

Anyways, I honestly don’t know what to feel about Ethan. I like that he seems nice and not threatened by Magnum (well, for now, spend another few hours with them, you might not be so chill…) and sees that working with him is important to Juliet. Frankly I just hope things get serious with them, but in the end Juliet realizes he’s not for her and just breaks up with him because she wants to. Not because he’s a bad guy working for evil SUV guy or because does something awful. Just because while she likes him, she doesn't feel like he’s the one. Since this season seems to be drama-drama I think something dramatic is bound to happen… but I guess we’ll see!

In Conclusion

I loved it, but was a bit annoyed at some parts. I feel like everything is just flowing so well this season and I can’t wait to see how the big bad turns out and the Ethan thing and La Marianna and just all around I’m more invested in everything.

Next week’s episode looks very exciting! I’m excited for some dramatic (yet we took this case so it’s not that unrealistic) stuff going down. Kidnappings and Miggy freaking out when ‘tragedy occurs’ (and maybe having some moments). I must say as much as I enjoyed this end scene last week’s Miggy end moment (3.04( beats this one’s by just a tiny amount... 

[angelic-kisses13]

Family Outing

Authors Note: Here is the request for @ly--canthrope​, I hope you like it lovely. If not I will write you a new one! 

Warnings: None, pure family fluff! 

You watched as Faye and Walter bickered about what they should bring on the trip, Faye wanted to bring an outdoor shower and Walter didn’t want to assemble it. 

“Not in a million years, kid.” He said with a shake of his head, arms crossed in his signature pose. Faye snorted at him, an eyebrow raised as she stood in the same manner. You grinned from the kitchen, a laugh threatening to come out. 

Walter’s eyes met yours and they narrowed at your amusement, not enjoying the situation playing out in front of him.  

“Faye, they have showers there.” Faye’s face looked horrified at the notion. 

“Do you know how many people use those? I could end up with warts on my feet!” 

“That why you wear shoes.”

“What, so I can squelch every time I walk? No thanks. It’s coming or we aren’t going.” By this point you couldn’t contain your laughter, your stomach hurt as you doubled over, cheeks hot from the exertion. 

“Walt, babe, I don’t think you are winning this one.” You wheezed as you fell onto the couch. He grunted as he walked over to you and pushed you over so he could sit. 

“If you’re bringing it you have to pack it.” Faye grinned in victory as she walked out of the door, dragging the shower behind her. 

“That girl is spoiled.” You hummed as you moved to straddle the detective. 

“You sure you won’t come along?” Your fingers brushed under his eye, before tangling in his beard gently. 

“I’m sure. It’s your and Faye’s weekend, spend some time with her, she misses you.” 

“You don’t miss me?” He questioned as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs brushing the skin under your shirt. 

“I always miss you, but I’m not sure she would want me there and I don’t want her to think that I’m trying to take you from her.” He sighed as his head bowed and rested against your chest. 

“You two are disgusting.” You jumped at the sound of Faye’s voice and Walter groaned. You pulled away from Walt and got up, turning to smile at the teenage girl. 

“You keep an eye on him for me, yeah?” She frowned at you eyes furrowed. 

“You aren’t coming with us?” The question was genuine confusion. Now it was your turn to frown. 

“No, it’s your guy’s weekend. I will be fine here, I have wine and pasta and a good book.” Faye’s face took on a look of pure sarcasm. 

“Yeah, because that sounds like the best weekend ever. You and dad are hardly ever separated, how will you two cope?” 

“Faye,” Walter warned, his eyes narrowed. Faye threw her arms into the air, 

“Its an observation and the truth!” Your lips twitched and you quickly placed a hand over your mouth before Walter could notice your amusement. Faye turned back to you, 

“Go pack a bag! You are coming with, otherwise, dad will mope around.” 

“I do not mope.” 

“Yes, you do.” You and Faye said together. Walter looked on incredulously, 

“You take her side now?” 

“I take whoever’s side has the biggest tent.” You replied as you quickly ran past him, his hand shot out and smacked your ass as you passed. A light yelp escaped your mouth and you turned and glared at your boyfriend. He gave a cheeky smile and winked before bending down and gathering the rest of the supplies to load into the truck. 

Huffing you walked upstairs and quickly packed a go-bag and changed your clothes, something told you this trip was going to be a little unconventional. 

You walked down the stairs in time to see Walter and Faye having a silent conversation. Pausing you watched, trying to figure out if you were intruding. Faye glanced up at you and quickly smiled before walking out the front door. 

“Everything okay?” Walter had an excited glint in his eye before you could ask him about it he took your bag for you and grabbed your hand in his. 

“Yeah, nothing to worry about, sweetheart. C’mon, let’s go.” 

“Okay?” You muttered as you locked the front door behind you and Walter helped you into the truck. 

It had been a few hours since the three of you had left and by that time the family bonding songs had been taken over by bickering and then finally, silence. Walter had one hand on the steering wheel, the other was placed atop yours. Your feet were curled up on the seat next to you and Faye was in the back, her headphones in and her schoolwork out as she tried to write something down before Walter could hit another pothole. 

You had just turned your head to check on Faye when you noticed a wicked grin take over her face. Your stomach dropped at the look, she only looked like that when she was tormenting her father. 

“Hey, dad?” Her voice was too innocent and you unconsciously tightened your fingers around Walter’s hand. He looked over at you with a head tilt but you hadn’t noticed, too focused on watching Faye. 

“Yeah?” 

“What’s another word for ‘cum’?” Walter nearly drove off the road at the question. You shrieked as the car swerved and you immediately reached your hand out to protect Faye. The truck was pulled over to the side of the road and Walter turned in his seat, his eyes wide and face pale. 

“Everyone okay?” You breathed in deeply as your hands fell down to your sides. Faye was cackling in the backseat, her school books had been thrown to the floor, and her hair was a mess across her face. 

“Let’s do it again!” She crooned as Walter sighed from beside you, his hands coming up and clenching the wheel, his head bowing forward to rest. 

“Are you okay, babe?” You asked as you brushed a hand down his back. 

“Just give me a second.” He muttered as he took a deep breath. You turned an looked over at Faye who was watching with a barely concealed grin. 

“Was that necessary?” You chided. Faye shrugged her shoulders, 

“It was funny and you know it.” 

“We are going to have a very long talk when we get back home,” Walter uttered as he straightened up and pulled the car back onto the road. You shot Faye a warning look before turning back to face the front. There was an annoyed sigh from behind, but soon the scratch of the pencil began again and you relaxed. 

Your hand reached over and landed on Walter’s thigh. He tilted his head towards you, letting you know he appreciated the gesture. A soft smile touched your lips and the three of you sat in silence as the truck rumbled down the road. 

It wasn’t long before Walter pulled off onto a dirt road, trees converging in a beautiful green canopy overhead. Patches of sunlight glinting through the leaves as you traveled further down the road. The sound of gravel crunching under the tires alerted you to the camp area. 

Excitement tingled through your body it had been years since you had been out in nature like this, and the fact that you were with your boyfriend and his daughter made it all the better. Hopefully, you and Faye could get closer while on this trip. 

“Alright, ladies, out we go,” Walter said as he turned the ignition off and unbuckled. Turning his body to better face us, his one knee resting on the seat, the other leg on the floor. His arm was across the back of the seat and his eyes shined with glee and relaxation. You hadn’t seen him like this before, it was definitely a new favorite. 

“I will get the tents up, Y/N you can set up the kitchen and food area, and Faye you get firewood and your disaster of a shower.” Faye rolled her eyes, but she was quickly unbuckled and out of the car before you could open your mouth to agree. A delighted laugh escaped your lips as you rubbed your palms together. 

“I’m so excited, Walt! The fresh air, s’mores, and swimming and being able to cuddle up next to you in a sleeping bag is going to be amazing!” You hadn’t realized that you were rambling, your body almost humming in your seat as you unbuckled and bounced out of the car. You completely missed the fond exasperated look, Water had shot you. His lips pulled up into a silly smile, he rounded the truck to help you untangle the bags from the campfire stove. 

“Don’t pull on that one, lovely,” Walter said. 

“You aren’t allowed to pack the truck anymore.” You complained as you tugged at a duffel bag, trying to pull it free from the others. 

“What’s wrong with it? I think it’s packed exceptionally well.” 

“It looks like a game of Tetris gone wrong, Walter.” You teased as you finally managed to get the duffel bag free, which lead to the rest of the bags and cookware to come falling out after it. You shrieked as pots and pans clanked onto the ground, the sound of Walter’s laugh brought you out of your momentary fear. 

“Ugh, you did that on purpose.” You sniffed as you threw your hair back over your shoulder and sauntered away. 

“I told you not to pull on it.” He argued. You kindly ignored him as you went about putting the duffel and stove onto the picnic bench. 

“Where did the cooler go?” You asked as Walter came over, the aforementioned cooler in his hands. 

“Never mind, all the food is in there right? I don’t want to have to make a fishing trip in the middle of the night.” You teased as Walter put the cooler down next to your hip. He grunted as he surveyed the area around you two, you looked at him bemused. 

“Babe, its a campground, nothing bad is going to happen to us out here. No need to be scary face, Walter.” He shot you an unimpressed look and you held your hands up in surrender. 

“Just thought it would do you some good, you don’t want wrinkles ruining that pretty face of yours.”

“We need to break up.” He deadpanned as he stalked over to you, a playful glint in his blue eyes. A laugh bubbled past your lips and you quickly shook your head. 

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, Detective.” His arms came around your waist pulling your chest flush to his. Your hands went around his neck, your fingers tangling in his curls. 

“Hmm, probably right.” His lips came down on yours, centimetres from actually locking when there was a loud groan from behind you. You jumped, your fingers tightening in Walter’s hair, yanking by accident. He growled at the action, his fingers digging into your hips. 

“Oh God! Sorry, Walt.” You mumbled as you released his curls and smoothed them down, massaging the area to lessen the pain. 

“Why can’t you two be normal adults who can’t stand to be around one another?” 

“It’s healthy to show affection, Faye.” 

“It’s not healthy for me.” She countered as she dropped the firewood by the fire pit and went to get her shower set up. 

“A ray of sunshine,” Walter uttered as he released you and went over to the tent. 

“Hey, Walt?” He looked over to you, an eyebrow arched and lips pursed. 

“You’re my ray of sunshine.” You ended the line with a wink and tongue sticking out. He snorted and flipped you off as he went back to the tent. 

“Well, that wasn’t very nice.” You muttered to yourself as you went about unpacking the food. Hamburgers and hot dogs were brought out if the cooler along with the beer and soda cans. You left the buns and condiments in the cooler, you didn’t want o to attract too many critters right away or it would be a very long weekend. 

You prepared the burgers and hot dogs, adding the seasonings as you listened to Walter curse the “retched tent” over and over again. Faye had finished the shower and was sitting across from you, a soda in her hand as she watched her father struggle. 

“Maybe you should offer to help him?” 

“That is “man’s work” and I’m not about to go through that discussion again.” Faye shuddered. An exasperated expression reached your features but you kept your mouth shut and went back to doing your own thing. 

It took Walter a few hours but he finally managed to get the tent up, albeit a little crooked but it still stood and would work until morning. Faye sent you an amused look as the three of you settled down in your chairs, blankets resting over your legs. 

The fire was crackling and popping as it danced amongst the driftwood, the different colors from the salt whispering through the air like willow-wisps. A content smile touched your lips as you took in your little makeshift family. You and Faye were getting closer the longer you were with Walter. You never wanted her to think that you were trying to replace her mother. You saw Faye as your daughter whether she wanted you there or not. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of Walter’s snores. You jumped when one of them sounded like a chainsaw. Faye’s lips curled up into a snarl at the sound. 

“I have some ear plugs if you need them, he tends to be louder out here. I don’t know if he is trying to out snore himself or if he is trying to scare away any wandering bears.”  Her eyes were focused on the fire and her fingers were playing with her dark hair. 

Something was bothering her but it wasn’t your place to try and get her to talk. She would come to you if she really needed your opinion. 

“Want a piece of chocolate? I managed to snag a few bars before your father could get a hold of them.” You teased as you waved the chocolate bar in front of you. Her eyes widened and she was up and out of her seat and in front of you in seconds. 

“Please tell me you have marshmallows and graham crackers too.” Her eyes were dark and pleading. You chuckled softly and nodded your head. She grabbed a bar and plopped down in front of you, her back leaning against your legs. It was quiet as the two of you watched her roast the marshmallows. She swore softly when one of them caught on fire. 

You snorted when it melted off of the stick and into the flames. 

“That was a waste of gooey goodness, you had one job, Faye.” You brought her head around and stuck her tongue out at you before turning back and focusing on the remaining marshmallow. Without conscious thought, your hands reached out and started running through her hair, braiding it back from her face. 

You hummed softly as you worked before Faye turned and faced you, her hands on your knees. 

“I have to tell you something but I don’t know how to do it.” Your humming stopped as you cocked your head and waited quietly. 

Taking a deep breath, “Maybe you should just come right out and say it? You know I’m not one to judge. What is said between us is kept between us, not even your father will know.” You said quietly as you watched her, her eyes bouncing from object to object, refusing to meet your eyes. 

“I’m sorry for not being more welcoming when you and dad were starting out. I was upset at him and I took it out on you.” You blinked in surprise, not expecting the girl to tell you that. 

“I’m not here to replace or take over. I do love your father, very much.” Your words were hushed, almost like you were telling a secret. 

“I know that… now.” You closed your eyes at her words. “I had a really long talk with my mom before the trip about you guys. It’s hard for us to even have a conversation about dad, then you throw in the fact that he is seeing someone and it makes it super uncomfortable for her.” 

You winced at her words, your shoulders slumping down. 

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad!” She rushed out, eyes wide and her hands shaking back and forth. A watery laugh left your lips,

“It’s okay.” 

“I told dad about the conversation when you walked into the room earlier.” You felt dread fill your stomach, was this the last time that you were going to see them? Was Walter going to break-up with you after this weekend? You swallowed weakly at the thought. 

“This is going horribly,” Faye uttered as she sagged to the ground in front of you. You both sat in silence as you both thought over the discussion. Then there was a whispered, 

“Mom?” Your head snapped down towards Faye, panic filling you. 

“Did your phone die? Do you need to call your mom to come and get you?” God, you knew you shouldn’t have come out this weekend. Faye’s eyes followed you in confusion. 

“What? No, I’m calling you Mom now. Why would you think I needed to call my Mom for?” Your heart jumped to your throat at her words. 

“You...I’m… Mom?” You asked, your voice cracking on the words. Faye mistook your confusion for anger and she quickly backpedaled. 

“No, no it’s okay, I take it back. I don’t want to make you cry!” You laughed as you reached out and grabbed the girl by her arms and pulled her against you. Hugging her tightly to your body, tears running down your cheeks in relief and happiness. 

“You can call me Mom, I will never ever want you to not call me that. You are my daughter, even though I’m not the one to give birth to you, you are still my girl.” You breathed as you ran your fingers through her hair. 

Faye relaxed against you, her hands coming up and clutching at your shirt. Your head turned as you pressed kisses to Faye’s cheeks and you met Walter’s warm blue gaze, a proud smile resting on his lips. He gave you a quick wink before he moved over and engulfed you both in his arms, kissing the tops of your heads lovingly. 

Taglist: @agniavateira​ @cavillanche​ @cavillunraveled​ @dancingwendigo​ @dreamwritesimagines​ @ficsandcatsandficsandcats​ @hlkwrites​ @hnryycvll​ @honeychicanawrites​ @iloveyouyen​ @johnmotherfuckingshelby​ @ladyreapermc​ @laketaj24​ @littlefreya​ @ly--canthrope​ @mary-ann84​ @mrsaugustwalker​ @ohvalleyofplentyyy​  @omgkatinka​ @sciapod​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @supersweetstache​ @thethirstyarchive​ @the-winter-witcher​  @tumblnewby @viking-raider​ @white-wolf-of-rivia​ @witcherwritings 

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Ashes”

After The Joker’s daughter accidentally drowned, his relationship with Y/N fell apart: they were guilty of failing to protect what they loved, blaming each other and themselves to the point of no return. The sole palpable proof of Emma existence is her ashes encapsulated in glass pendants her parents wear and that’s hardly a memento able to help in such a difficult situation. Ashes are not meant to bring people together.

“Happy Birthday, Pumpkin Pie,” The Joker grumbles. “Here’s Charlie: I thought you would like to see him,” he places the purple hippo on Emma’s headstone.

Today his daughter would have been 4 years old. Instead of the usual party filled with laughter and presents he’s at “Eternal Peace” cemetery early in the morning for a different kind of festivity.

J never celebrated birthdays before yet once she showed up in his life the anniversary got a fresh new meaning: Y/N ensured that The King of Gotham was aware of how lucky they both were to have her. And he did learn to care about that tiny being he created who first called him something similar to “dada”, then a cute “da’y” and finally the word he craved to hear every single day until she was gone: “daddy.”

Being a father thought him a couple of things, but the most important was quite stunning: the index finger from his right hand wasn’t only meant for using a trigger; it was also his child’s soother.

Emma would keep it prisoner when she slept from an early age; of course all babies do it although in this case it didn’t go away once she got older.

And he misses that…

A lot.

Actually, he would give up on a robbery or anything that involves him holding a gun if she could clutch to his finger one more time.

That’s how much he misses The Princess.

“Sir, sorry to interrupt,” Frost gets him out of trance. “There’s movement at the South gate. We have to go…”

J snatches the plush animal and follows Jonny on a path behind the crypts when a woman walking on the alley leading to Emma’s grave catches his attention: although she has a red wig and sunglasses on, her disguise doesn’t fool him. It’s Y/N.

She’s carrying a small cake and intensely stares at the pavement, unaware of her surroundings.

The Joker can’t really tell what she’s doing once in front of the tomb, nevertheless he guesses she’s singing “Happy Birthday” while wiping the tears strolling down her cheeks.

He didn’t see Y/N in about 4 months. They went to the cabin by Moon Lake after Emma’s drowning and things were so rough he left immediately. She never followed, called or texted.

J didn’t either.

Why bother? They were guilty of failing to protect what they loved, blaming each other and themselves to the point of no return.

Today is extremely difficult to deal with, especially since the catalyst binding them vanished forever.

The sole palpable proof of Emma existence is her ashes encapsulated in glass pendants her parents wear and that’s hardly a memento able to help in such a difficult situation.

Ashes are not meant to bring people together.

***************

After 2 Hours

“Hi,” The King of Gotham drags his feet on the porch and takes a sit on the chair next to yours.

“Hi…” you whisper, surprised to spot him after such a long absence.

Complete silence, then he utters:

“I’m here for the cake,” he points at the sweet treat resting on the wood table: vanilla- strawberry combo, your daughter’s favorite.

“Are you?”

“Yeah, I crave the taste…”

You lean over and cut two slices, sharing Emma’s birthday cake with her dad. It’s really painful to swallow the morsels knowing your baby can’t; it seems J is in the same boat.

“I can’t make anybody happy…” The Clown mumbles under his breath and the randomness of his statement makes you wonder what’s going on in his mind.

“Me neither… Sweet Pea was happy, wasn’t she? She was a happy kid…”

The Joker moves his plate towards you, hissing:

“She was and she would still be with us if instead of flirting you would have watched her!”  

“… … W- what?!...” you glare at him, astonished he has the nerve to pop up and hurt you in such a manner. “Since when talking to somebody is flirting?! Where were you, huh? Where were you??? In your goddamn office plotting more schemes in order to get more money because nothing is enough!” you raise your voice and burst out crying in the next second. “She was ours to protect, the only treasure that mattered! I just… I just took my eyes off her for a few moments, I had no idea my baby was drowning in that pool …” you keep sobbing at the horrible memory, heartbroken. “I could have save her…Why didn’t I…?…”

The Joker can’t understand what you’re saying anymore, yet he doesn’t reply to your accusations or remorseful confessions.

How could he?

He’s equally responsible for Emma’s demise but it’s easier to attack her mother.

You abruptly get up and rush inside the cottage, abandoning J to his own demons. He doesn’t know if he should bail or stay, thus he continues to gaze at the lake numb to everything.

Still… The quietness is becoming unbearable so he finally gathers the strength to stand up and search for you.

“Y/N?...” he shouts. “Where are you?”

Silly question since the cabin is a little area with a kitchen/living room combo, one bedroom and bathroom: easy to find what you’re looking for.

No response but the shower is on which queues him Y/N must be there.

The Joker approaches the bathtub, unwilling to remove the curtain and talk to you face to face.

“It was my fault too…” he admits a fact that tormented him since the accident. “I should have kept an eye on her… I couldn’t predict she’ll sneak out to play by the swimming pool… I would give away a fortune if I could fix it… Do you believe me?...”

You sniffle and cover your mouth, trying to avoid his trap: if you engage, he will probably bite more and that’s the last thing you need.

“I have Charlie in the car; I thought you might want him tonight,” J reveals the true purpose of his visit. “Drop him off tomorrow at 3pm, I’ll be at the warehouse on 17Th Street. You can’t have the toy, it belongs in her room…”

You hear his steps receding and gasp for air, completely crushed by despair: the agony of grief is stronger than any consolation a stupid purple hippo could offer.

But it was Emma’s favorite and The Joker is willing to share a token of what you both lost; now that you think about it… you really missed Charlie…

**************

Next Day, 2:05pm

“Where’s everybody?” you mutter whilst entering the code at the gates. Usually there are at least 8 henchmen guarding the fence and no sign of them so far. You drive up the unpaved alley, curiously checking out the landscape: same trees, bushes and trucks you’re familiar with, except you can’t discern a single goon patrolling the perimeter.

You honk to get the crew’s assistance without any success and you wonder if The Joker tricked you; I mean, you should have seen it coming: he is probably attempting one of his convoluted strategies to punish you for the tragic past.

You stop in front of the building, intrigued to notice it appears deserted.

Suddenly, a powerful blast shakes the ground and you watch part of the roof collapsing on the north side; a few windows shatter also.

You jump out of the car, totally confused at the strange occurrence.

“Hello?” you yell. “J???”

There’s smoke coming out of the opened metal door and you hesitantly walk in the warehouse, coughing at the suffocating odor.

“J?...” you scream. “J!!!!!”

A faint knock in the distance prompts your attention.

“Y/N!!”

“J??” you run towards the source of the noise only to find him under rubble next to the south entrance. “Oh my God!” you kneel by his feet buried under bricks. “What happened?!” The Queen frantically removes debris as he groans in pain.

“Explosives, that’s what happened. Shit, I think I fucked up my legs!”

“Where are the guys??!!” you inquire, managing to free his feet enough for him to move.

“I gave them the day off,” The Joker’s explanation puzzles Y/N. “Hurry up, please!! Another detonation will follow shortly!”

“Jesus Christ!” you quicken the pace and push the last bricks out of the way. “Can you stand?”

J rolls on his side, unable to comply.

“No, you’ll have to haul me out of here!”

“Come on!” you place your hands under his underarms and start pulling. “The exit is right there!”

You huff while straining to get to safety as The Clown aims to aid by lifting his body off the ground as much as he can.

“Behind the truck!” he urges once you’re out of the premises and you barely have time to hide behind the vehicle when a second bang levels half of the construction.

“This didn’t go according to plan,” J admits in a low tone, panting a storm after the ordeal.

You asses his wounds, pressing on the ankle and he immediately growls.

“The bone’s fractured,” you wipe your sweaty forehead.  “What plan?”

“It’s actually your fault for all of this; I told you to swing by at 3 o’clock. You’re early!”

“Huh?”

“You were supposed to come when I told you then boom! Before you reached the building it would go up in flames: you would flip thinking that I’m dead and then I’ll show up and ask you to come back home. You would be so excited to see I’m alive you couldn’t refuse. Yet you ruined everything: you appeared out of nowhere, I panicked and messed up: you know I’m not good with this stuff!!”

You can’t even process the plot he’s throwing your way.

“What kind of plan…”

“I just told you I’m not good at this stuff,” he interrupts. “You know I’m not.”

You touch your chest, baffled at the ridiculous story.

“My pendant!” you exclaim when you realize the chain is not around your neck anymore. “It’s gone!” Y/N desperately searches the grass. “My baby, where’s my baby?” you part the green lawn on the verge of crying. “I can’t find my pendant! Maybe I dropped it the building,” you whimper and prepare to flee when J grabs your jeans, firmly holding on.

“Don’t go; the poles might cave in and whatever is left standing will squash you!!”

You don’t comprehend why he’s so worked up and his plea catches you off guard:

“Don’t go! I’ll give you half my ashes, ok?”

The Queen debates on The King’s proposal, conflicted by his candid offer.

After all, if ashes tear people apart, how come they can’t bring them back together?

Also read: MASTERLIST

https://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

You can also follow me on Ao3 and wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[aresaphrodites]

2 - bughead ❤️

this is definitely not spooky at all, but it’s cute and fun so i hope you like it <3

#2:  “ Who ate all my candy?!!”

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“A Snickers, your majesty?” 

Betty Jones leans down and opens her mouth wide, allowing the small candy bar to fall onto her tongue. “Mmm,” she moans lightly. “My favorite!” She smacks her lips dramatically and watches as two pairs of matching blue eyes look at her in disgust. 

“Nasty, mommy,” Mia Jones says with a little squeal and shakes her head, causing her black curls to fly around wildly. 

Meanwhile Zeke Jones is grinning up at his mom, a pack of Skittles clutched in his hand tightly. “Mommy, mommy! Catch!” He doesn’t even give her time to react before he’s throwing a green Skittle at her face. It bounces off her nose and Betty watches as the twins go completely still, eyes wide and mouths dropped open as if they’re about to get scolded. 

“I missed that one on purpose,” Betty tells them, “I hate the green ones.” 

Zeke cackles and throws a red one at her, which she actually does catch this time. The twins cheer for their mom, so excited for her in a way that only six-year-olds can be. Their laughter and energy is so infectious though, that she finds herself laughing along with them.

“Mommy,” Mia says as they continue to sort through all their candy, “you look very pretty tonight.” 

“Aw,” Betty coos and presses a kiss to her daughter’s head. “Thank you, baby! I think you look very beautiful.” 

“Do I look like a princess?” She asks softly, playing with the ends of her Sleeping Beauty dress. “My hair doesn’t match.”

Betty frowns slightly. Mia has always been a little insecure about the color of her hair and Betty will never understand why. Unlike Zeke, who has golden blonde waves like Betty, Mia has her father’s hair, just a little more wild, and Betty has always loved it. It’s her favorite.

“That’s a dumb question,” Zeke says, mouth full of a Milky Way, taking Betty out of her thoughts. 

“Zeke Jones!” She scolds once she sees Mia’s frown deepen. “That’s not nice at all, young man. We don’t say things like that. What do I tell you?” 

Zeke sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically. God, he may be only six, but he has his father’s attitude. It’s adorable, but sometimes Betty wants to yell at Jughead for teaching their sweet son this. 

“There is no such thing as a dumb question,” Zeke recites. “But what if I ask you if it’ll hurt my eyes if I look at a picture of the sun?” 

Betty looks at her son, completely baffled, and then erupts into laughter. 

“What?” She wheezes. “Zekey, where do you come up with this stuff?” 

“Well?” He presses, placing his hands onto his hips. He accidentally knocks his lightsaber off his hip and Mia reaches over to pick it up before he can step on it. “Is that a dumb question?” 

“I’m going to take away all your candy if you keep giving me attitude,” she tells her son, refusing to admit that yes, that actually is a dumb question. His eyes go wide and she continues. “And you need to apologize to your sister right now, mister.” 

“No,” he whines, “Mommy, you never let me finish what I’m saying! You always do this!” 

“Excuse me?” She gasps, appalled. “I do not!” 

“You do too! You do it to daddy and you do it to me!” He looks down at his twin sister. “Right, Mia?” 

Mia, the little traitor, nods rapidly. “It’s true, mommy. I’m sorry.” 

“I can’t believe this,” Betty says softly, with a fake sadness. “My own kids… out to hurt me.” 

Zeke giggles, but he sits back down on the floor and wraps his arms around his sister tightly before pulling away and handing her a Twizzler. “It’s a dumb question because of course you look like a princess. Who cares if you don’t have hair like me and mommy? All the coolest princesses have dark hair.” 

“Oh yeah?” Mia asks, doubtful. “Like who?” 

“Snow White! She was really cool. She was so sweet and nice that all the animals loved her, just like the doggies love you. And Belle! She was awesome! She loved books and was super smart, just like you are. I bet she passed all her spelling tests like you do.” 

Mia smiles softly at her brother’s words and Betty’s heart clenches at the sight in front of her. Sure, there are days when the kids are at each other’s throats so badly that Betty questions how she hasn’t lost her mind yet, but underneath it all, they love each other so much and they’re always there for one another. It’s all she’s ever wanted for her children, and she’s so happy that they have each other. 

“Don’t forget Mulan,” a new voice rings out from the foyer. Mia immediately lights up at the sight of her favorite man making his way into the living room. “Mulan’s my favorite princess.” Mia jumps up from the floor and runs into her dad’s arms, squealing as he picks her up and twirls her around before placing her onto his hip. “So what’s this I hear about you not liking your hair?” 

Mia blushes and looks down. “I didn’t say that, daddy. I just said it wasn’t like a princess’ hair.” 

Jughead Jones gasps in shock. “What? Says who?” 

“Well… Sleeping Beauty didn’t have blonde hair,” she says sheepishly. 

“So?” Zeke snaps. “Kylo Ren didn’t have blonde hair, but I think I still look awesome.” 

“Of course you do, baby,” Betty says, ruffling her son's hair as he comes to sit in her lap. 

“See,” Jughead says, smiling down at his wife and son before looking back up to his daughter. “It doesn’t matter what color your hair is, dumpling. You’re a princess, just like your brother is the evil Supreme Leader of Riverdale.” 

“He was a good guy!” Zeke wails and Betty and Jughead have to stop themselves from bursting into laughter. Their son has taken to the Star Wars franchise lately, and even though Betty’s not sure how she feels about him watching it already, it’s nice to see him so passionate about something that isn’t bugs or tormenting his sister. 

“Daddy, why do you call me that?” Mia asks, ignoring her brother. “I hate dumplings!” 

“Well, I love dumplings,” Jughead tells her. He places a kiss to her nose, making her giggle. “And I love you! So you’re my little dumpling. In fact, next year I think you should be a dumpling for Halloween.” 

“You’re silly,” Mia tells him before resting her cheek on his shoulder. 

Jughead walks the two of them over to where Betty and Zeke are sitting, and then he sits down on the floor next to his wife. 

“Well, hello, Mother of Dragons.” His eyes rake over Betty’s body and she sends him a bemused look. “Did you miss me?” 

“You were gone for like, ten minutes,” she tells him as Mia and Zeke get up from their parent’s laps to go back to searching through their pumpkin baskets. “Why did your work call you so late? You’re not on call.”

Jughead smiles at her. Betty’s always been very big on their family time, especially because it’s a little hard with Jughead’s job as a neurosurgeon at the hospital in the city. It’s not that long of a commute, but when you add all the hours he has to work, it’s a lot more tiring than either of them would like. When he does have a day off, he’s usually so tired that he just wants to rest, so Betty cherishes these moments and it annoys her whenever they’re interrupted. 

“Nothing to worry about, Betts.” He leans over and kisses the side of her mouth. “One of the interns just mixed up a bit of the paperwork, so Harvey was calling me to confirm a couple of things. Don’t worry, I’m still yours for the next three days.” 

Betty just hums out. “Well, you were missed, Jon Snow.” She reaches up and brushes her hand against his cheek. “I still cannot believe you grew out your facial hair for this costume.” 

“I wanted to be season five Jon Snow,” he says, bringing his own hand up to capture his wife’s. “You don’t like it?” 

“I didn’t say that. It’s just a little different. Are you going to keep it?” 

He laces their fingers together and brings Betty’s hand up to his lips, kissing her wedding finger, right above where the gorgeous diamond ring sits. “What do you think, my queen?” 

Betty snorts and shoves him playfully. “I think you look very mature with it.” 

“Oh? So I don’t look like a highschooler anymore? Awesome. It’s only been like fifteen years.” 

“Daddy!” Zeke screeches. “Look, I saved this for you!” He runs over to his parents and hands Jughead a squished Baby Ruth. “It’s your favorite, so I didn’t eat it.” 

“Aw, thanks, bud!” He takes the candy and wraps his arm around Zeke, bringing him against his chest. “You could have eaten it, though. I’m sure I have some in my pumpkin.” 

At his words, Zeke makes a comically nervous face and Mia laughs lightly behind her hands. Jughead catches on immediately. 

“Okay,” he drags out, suspicious, “who has my pumpkin?” 

“I haven’t seen it,” Zeke says quickly. 

“Nope!” Mia agrees, shaking her head while still giggling. 

Jughead whirls around to look at Betty. “Babe? Where’s my pumpkin?” 

“I haven’t seen it,” she says quietly, cheeks red, “did you check the kitchen?” 

“We haven’t even been to the kitchen since we got home!” 

The quiet jingle of Luna’s--the family dog’s--name tags echoes throughout the room and Jughead watches in horror as she brings him a chewed up pumpkin basket. 

“Oh, my God! Luna ate my candy!” 

Mia cackles loudly and now even Zeke and Betty are laughing along. 

“Not her, daddy,” Zeke says through his laughter and Jughead looks at his family in shock. 

“Then who?” Jughead asks, astonished. “We all have our own pumpkins!” 

“It wasn’t me,” Zeke sings out. “You know I don’t like chocolate that much, daddy.” 

“I know,” Jughead says, patting Zeke’s blonde waves. “My sweet baby boy would never do this to me. It could only be your mom or sister!” 

“Hey,” Betty and Mia whine. 

“You two are the only ones who deceive me like this,” Jughead whines and Mia looks at him in confusion. “The only ones who trick me like this!” 

“Maybe you’re going crazy, Juggie,” Betty says, even though she’s grinning so hard that her cheeks hurt. “No one ate your candy.” 

“You’ll pay for this tonight,” Jughead tells her and she gasps softly, knowing exactly what he means. He grins, happy with the effect he has on her, and then puts on his game face. “Alright, so which one of you is going to confess.” 

“It wasn’t me,” Betty and Mia say at the same time, both laughing still. 

“Who ate all my candy?!!” He shrieks, distraught, and this time they all erupt into laughter. 

“It was mommy!” Mia admits and Betty gasps, looking at her daughter in horror. “I’m sorry, mommy! I feel bad!” 

“Don’t feel bad for him! Feel bad for me! Daddy ate all my candy last year!” 

“You said you didn’t want it!” Jughead defends. “How was I supposed to know you meant that you just didn’t want it at that moment!” 

“Whoopsie,” Betty says and Jughead scoffs. 

“You literally still have an entire bucket full of candy, Elizabeth. Why did you eat mine?” 

“Because yours looked better.” 

“We got the same things!” 

“Hmm, no, I don’t think so.” 

Jughead gives her a deadpan look and then rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah. You’re definitely paying for this later on.” 

Betty just winks at him and he blows her a kiss. 

“Don’t be upset, daddy,” Mia says. “You can share my candy with me.” 

“Thank you, baby,” Jughead says with a pout. “You are the sweetest dumpling.” 

Mia smiles at him and gets up to hand over her basket to him. 

Betty laughs so hard that she can’t breathe whenever Jughead reaches his hand into the basket only to find out that their daughter has given him an empty one, having poured all her candy onto the floor earlier. 

After that, the house is filled with the sound of the twins’ laughter as Jughead chases them throughout the house, while Betty stands on the sidelines and protects her children from the “monster man”, the stolen candy long forgotten.

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Send me a sentence from this list of spooky prompts with a ship and I’ll write you a short lil fic. :) 

[deans-mind-palace]

Love and hair

Pairing: Jensen x Daughter!Reader, Jared x Daughter!Reader, Mom!OC x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Part 2 to Lullabies. 

Word Count: 1,332

Warnings: Paternity test, fluff, no incest

Author’s Note: Wasn’t sure if I should write that, but here it is… Based on this request by @justas-confused-asthenextperson Part 2 to Lullabies please? It's set 18 years in the future and the readers kid wants to know who their father is? You can pick who the father is.

Your birth was exactly 18 years, 9 days, 11 hours and 3 minutes ago. Exactly 53 - no, 54 seconds. Your mom had often told you the story of how you were born in New York and your fathers suddenly surprised her in hospital. How they were both happy to see you. Your dad, Jensen, never wanted to take you out of his arms again. And your dad Jared had watched the midwife watchfully over her shoulder as she measured, weighed and examined you before a doctor looked at the bruise on his hand that your mother had given him during labor. Both of them had been totally excited and your mom had almost had them thrown out of the room. 

Just a reminder, your fathers were Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki. Well, biologically, only one of them, but you never cared before. As a child, you were lucky enough to grow up with not one, but two wonderful fathers who both loved you dearly. Jared taught you how to walk, Jensen taught you the word "daddy. They both taught you how to swim, read you bedtime stories and scared the monsters under the bed away. They had run after your bike and bandaged your first banged up knee. First day of elementary school, middle school and high school. Your first swimming competition, your first boyfriend and your first heartbreak. They had watched over your every step and held their hands over corners and edges to protect you. You had always had a sheltered childhood away from cameras, spotlights, red carpets, and the thunderstorm of camera flashlights. After you were born, your mom left Supernatural. Of course, sometimes you surprised your dads on set, but they were always keen to keep you away from the film industry so you could grow up like normal child. They were with you all your life and they were always by your side. You couldn't put into words how much you loved them. They were the most important people in your life.

And yet there was this question that tormented you all your life, since you knew that it was not normal to have two fathers and one mother. It tormented you sometimes in your sleep and ran like a shadow through your everyday life. It followed you everywhere like an old friend. Who was your biological father? 

You didn't know how often you had asked yourself this question. Your mom had deliberately not ordered a test after your birth because she wanted you to have the right to decide later whether you wanted to know who your biological father was. And actually you had no problem with that either, because you loved them both and it didn't matter to you - but somehow it did. There was always this uncertainty eating away at you. Often you stood for hours in front of the big wall mirror in your room and looked for similarities, any clues that told you who your biological father was. That hair might be your dad Jared's. But the  eyes looked like Jensen's. And your mouth? Wasn't that Jensen's? Was that Jared's forehead that you recognized in the mirror on your face?

Nine days ago, on your 18th birthday, you finally made your choice. You wanted to know with absolute certainty who your father was. You had just graduated high school and had received your college acceptance letter. You were no longer a child. You wanted to know who your father was. So here you were. In the waiting room of the lab that ran the test. The results were due to be announced in a few minutes and there was excitement in the air. While you tugged at the sleeve of your sweater, Jensen paced nervously up and down and Jared impatiently bobbed his knee. You took turns looking at the clock. When your eyes met, you threw a tense smile at each other and looked away again. It was a difficult situation for you all. Jensen and Jared may have had to live with the fact that you weren't their daughter and you had to live with the fact that you actually only had one father. What if it was the wrong guy? What if you'd rather have the other one as your father? Jensen or Jared? Should you care? No, it never mattered! You blamed it on the nerves. You didn't care who your father was, and you were about to jump up and leave. Maybe you guys could go out for ice cream. Your favorite sundae with the cherry on top, which Jensen would steal from you while Jared was still handing you the whipped cream from his sundae. 

Just as you were about to break it off, the door opened. You and Jared jumped up, while Jensen stopped short. There was a lady in a lab coat smiling at you nicely. She wore glasses and had a clipboard in her hand. "Mr. Ackles? Mr Padalecki? Y/N? The results are in now. Would you like to hear them?" You took a deep breath and gulped, then you turned to the woman. "Just a moment." you asked, and then you turned to your fathers. "I want you to know that it doesn't matter who of you my biological dad is. I will always love the both of you, no matter what." Without waiting for an answer, you turned to the woman in the white coat. 
"You may now announce the results." She looked at you just over the edge of your glasses and finally nodded."Mr Padalecki? Congratulations. You became a father 18 years ago." Jared stood there surprised, mouth open. So many emotions ran across his face, and he seemed overwhelmed when you two embraced. A broad grin was on his lips and he whirled you through the air just like when you were a little kid. As soon as Jared dropped you off, you remembered Jensen. He stood sadly aside and gave you your moment. His hands were buried in the pockets of his jeans and he stood there uncertainly.

"I-I'm gonna go." You looked at him surprised. "What?" He shrugged his shoulders until Jared joined in. "Bollocks, Jay. You're going for ice cream with us now," said Jared, patting his buddy on the back. Jensen stood there hesitatingly. You stepped to him. "You're not my dad by blood, but that doesn't change anything. You're the best dad ever and I love you," you said honestly. You saw his affection for you in his green eyes. Now Jared came along and wrapped an arm around Jensen's shoulder.

"Dude, we've been agonized by her for more than 18 years. You're not gonna let me down now." He said, acting threatening, then he got serious, "Jay, this here is our daughter. I could never handle her without you. She has enough temperament and love for two dads. She's our whirlwind that's been sweeping through our lives, turning everything upside down. But most of all, she's our daughter. She's our baby, yours and mine, and always has been." Jensen nodded and a grin crept up to his lips.

"In that case, who's up for ice cream?" You burst out laughing and cheering. Like a small child, you left the building where the test lab was located hand in hand with them. "I'll have extra sprinkles... And chocolate sauce! And whipped cream!" you announced. "So will I! Plus chocolate chips." You nodded eagerly and Jared snorted in amusement. "Father or not, Jensen. That appetite of hers she definitely got from you." He winked at you, smiling.

And so you sat at your favorite coffee shop. You had ice cream with extra sauce, sprinkles, chocolate chips and whipped cream. Jensen stole your cherry, as usual, and Jared scraped his whipped cream off the top of his chocolate ice cream and gave it to you. You made jokes, laughed out loud and hugged each other. It was business as usual. Everything in the world was fine.

Wanna get tagged? Drop an ask or head to my bio.

Jensen/Dean tags: @vicariouslythruspn​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @zizzlekwum​ @ashthefirefox​ @outofnowhere82​ @rintheemolion​  @myopiamystical​ @vicmc624​ @imaginationisgrowth

Jared/Sam tags:  @fortheentries​ @vexhye​ @traceyaudette​ 

[breathlester]

Three for the price of one

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

summary: ‘the holiday’ inspired au where Dan and Phil spend a promising first date until Phil leaves in a hurry, dropping his wallet. Dan returns it the next day hoping for an explanation, but gets more than he bargained for.

genre: angst and fluff, angst with a happy ending, parenting, halloween/autumn

cw: references to minor character death, car accidents and trauma/injury; mentions of alcohol

"Soo ur still good 4 tonight?"

Dan taps away at his laptop nervously, waiting for the reply that comes seconds later.

- "I am indeed. x] Why, are you having second thoughts?"

He exhales, a smile forming on his face. Phil has a way of combining perfect grammar with strange emojis that makes Dan’s stomach flip over in the most pleasant way. And thinking about the effect Phil will have on him when they’re face to face for the first time in a couple of hours does absolutely nothing to calm his nerves.

"Nah just making sure haha :D" he types, ignoring the fact that he is nowhere near as relaxed as the casual “nah“ suggests.

Phil just sends a "♡" in response and Dan promptly chokes on his own saliva, hurrying to replicate the symbol, accidentally adding a second 3 to the heart. Hopefully Phil won’t think he’s overly eager. Although he is, but Phil doesn’t need to know that.

- "Can’t wait to see you, but you will have to let me leave now if you want me to be on time! ^-^"

"k, see u in 3 hours!"

- ":)"

Dan stares at the smiley face for a good half minute, his own face mirroring the expression, before he pulls himself together and logs out of the dating website.

„Right, time to choose an outfit.“

He turns around to consider the assortment of clothes laid out on his bed. His two favorite pairs of black skinny jeans, four different black t-shirts, one button-down (black) and two jackets (both black as well). At least the colour won’t be a problem...

-

Hushed beats of a slow-paced indie song sound softly through the walls and the lights are comfortably dim, the pub warm and buzzing with people, but it doesn’t have the same relaxing effect on Dan as it usually would. His eyes scan the room anxiously and his teeth torment his bottom lip. He’s about to make his way over to the bar when someone calls his name and he halts, turning and catching the eye of a tall black-haired man on the other side of the room. “Phil,” Dan says under his breath, exhaling in relief, and starts towards him.

His date is sat on one of the sofas in the corner, looking absolutely gorgeous. Even though they’ve skyped a handful of times before to make sure neither of them is a 60-year-old pervert, Dan finds himself speechless at the sight of Phil. His denim shirt is unbuttoned to reveal a turquoise t-shirt that brings out the various colours in his eyes and his black hair is pushed back to reveal his forehead. His features are clear-cut, skin as pale as if he’s carved out of marble, and he’s smiling at Dan.

“Hi,” Dan breathes, feeling himself blush and his heart beat quicken.

Phil gets up to greet him and they behold each other for an awkward moment before Phil chuckles and leans in to hug him. “Hi,” he says softly next to Dan’s ear, and it takes all of Dan’s self-control not to melt right there in his embrace, butterflies tingling his stomach. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with a delicate flowery scent.

“You smell really nice,” he blurts out as they pull away, blushing even deeper when Phil’s beautiful eyes widen.

“Oh, thank you. I don’t wear cologne a lot. It’s not too much?” he asks abashedly, glancing up at Dan, who to his own surprise is slightly taller than him.

“Not at all! It’s, uh, it’s perfect.”

Phil answers with another bright smile that catches Dan off guard and giggles when it takes him a moment to sit down.

“So, do you feel more like dancing or talking?”

“How about a drink first?” Dan suggests and Phil waves a nearby waiter over to them. “Two margaritas, please. - Unless you need to drive?”

Dan shakes his head quickly and Phil adds with a playful little wink, “They’re on me.”

-

It’s been four months since Dan stumbled across Phil’s profile on the dating website and three since he’s worked up the courage to message him. Phil, who described himself as a “wanna-be writer and muse enthusiast”, replied a day later and from then on they’ve been chatting almost non-stop. Although Phil is four years older and lives on the countryside whilst Dan is a film student from central London, they’ve bonded over a similar taste in TV shows and music. However, it has taken Dan a while to coax some more personal information out of Phil and even longer until Phil agreed to their first date – even if the other man assured him that this was only due to being busy and not because he was hesitant to meet him. To be honest, that didn’t really convince Dan since he could not imagine a self-employed writer and editor to have an immovable time schedule.

All that aside, if tonight goes well, Dan is more than willing to forget about this tiny drop of bitterness.

And so far, it’s going great.

They’ve sipped their drinks and Phil has interrogated Dan about the internship with the BBC he is currently diong in the course of his studies. In turn, he’s let Dan in on his work as an editor and his new-found obsession with house plants.

“I’ve got quite a nice garden, but there’s not much to do out there in the cold season, so I thought, why not get some green inside? Big mistake. Turns out house plants are a lot more high-maintenance! I’ve already killed two!”

Dan giggles, taking another sip of his drink. “I couldn’t even keep a cactus alive. I guess student digs just aren’t the most healthy environment.”

No matter what he’s talking about, Dan finds himself drawn in and fascinated by Phil. He’s got a uniquely funny way of telling a story that has Dan giggling like a teenager and hanging on his lips like snake bite piercings.

And his eyes sparkle when he laughs. “Oh, I like that song! Fancy some dancing?”

Feeling warm and pleasantly tipsy, Dan nods and takes the hand Phil offers him. More like I fancy you, he thinks as they take their place among couples and singles on the dancefloor in the adjoining room and after some stumbling around fall into an easy rhythm.

Phil’s arm is resting on Dan’s shoulder and it feels both casual and meaningful, like a careful experiment. The exhilarating beat of Muse’s Madness pumps through Dan’s veins and lets his spirit soar, makes him throw his head back and grin at Phil whose eyes are reflecting the flashing spotlights like lighthouses. He’s beautiful and he’s mouthing the lyrics at Dan, pulling dramatic faces, and Dan feels so good, so alive and amorous…

When the song fades into a slow-paced one, Phil’s arm slips down from his shoulder and snakes around his waist, and Dan gently pulls him closer until the other man’s chin rests on his shoulder. They sway on the spot, engulfed in each other’s presence like a small bubble in a sea of people. The butterflies in Dan’s stomach have doubled and are swirling uncontrollably.

“Hi there, again,” Phil whispers, and Dan runs his hands up his torso, feeling him shiver under his touch. “Hi.”

Slowly, his hands move from Phil’s shoulders to his cheeks and he gives him a questioning look. Phil’s forehead is pressed against his as they lock eyes and he smiles, all flushed skin and the tickling of soft hair, of warm breath. Dan glances down at his lips…

A ringtone disturbs the ballad now playing in the background and Phil recoils, his right hand darting into his back pocket immediately. Dan releases the breath he’s holding, feeling disappointment seep through him like a sudden downpour.

He catches sight of Phil’s phone screen for a second and registers against his will that the caller is a pretty blonde woman saved as “Louise” in Phil’s contacts.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Dan, I have to take this!” Phil says loudly to make himself heard above the noise, offering him a quick apologetic smile before he pushes through the crowd, away from Dan.

-

He waits for one song, then another, moving awkwardly on his own along to an unknown beat. But when the third song spins into the fourth, Dan gives up his position and goes on a search. Another couple is snogging on the sofa where they had their drinks, and Phil’s not in the queue for the toilets, nor is he sitting at the bar. Perhaps he’s outside, Dan thinks and debates whether or not it would seem intrusive to go look for him if he’s still on the phone – but then the bartender waves him over.

“You haven’t seen a man with black hair done like mine, about my height?” Dan asks hopefully.

The heavily-tattooed, rather beefy guy nods and adds, “Told me to tell you he had to leave. Seemed terribly sorry about it.”

Dan’s heart sinks in his chest like a coin dropped in a fountain. “Did he say anything else?”

The bartender shrugs, continuing to rinse the glass he’s holding. “Was in a hurry. And besides, do I look like an answering machine to you?”

“I – no. Sorry,” Dan stutters, feeling his face grow hot with disappointment and embarrassment.

The barista’s face softens slightly. “Hey, better luck next time, mate, alright?”

Yeah, Dan thinks bitterly. Except there won’t be a next time after he’s let me down like this.

There’s no point in staying if Phil’s gone. Trudging to the front door, all excitement seeped out of him, he’s close to wallowing in self-pity when his foot catches on something on the floor.

Someone’s dropped a wallet. Not just any wallet though – it’s an Adventure Time themed one.

A grin has already halfway spread across Dan’s face when he bends down to pick it up, unfolding it carefully. What kind of adult would use an Adventure Time wallet on a date in a pub?

His assumption is confirmed when his eyes fall on the card tucked into the front pocket. “Philip Lester, editor and freelance writer,” it reads, and listed below are Phil’s phone number, email and home address.

I’ll give him one more chance, Dan decides as he pockets the wallet and pushes open the door, the chilly October wind ruffling his hair. Tomorrow I’ll drop the wallet off at his place and see if he’s got an explanation for me.

He hates to admit it, but he really hopes Phil does.

-

Dan looks down at his phone once again, double-checking the small blue dot that indicates his position. “This is the middle of fucking nowhere,” he declares out loud.

Behind him, though long out of sight, lies the city of London. To the left – nothing but fields. To the right a forest is climbing up the gentle curve of a hill. And ahead there’s this bumpy path he’s been following for the past thirty minutes that was most definitely not built for motorcycle trips. He’s beginning to regret his impulsive action.

And yet the app on his phone insists that he is on the right track. Dan takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet-smelling autumn air.

“Okay, let’s give this one last shot. Another half mile and if nothing turns up then except for more scarecrows and creepy abandoned barns, I’m going to turn back and send him his wallet by mail.”

He snaps the visor of his helmet shut with a sort of final resolution and mounts his motorcycle again.

The frosty head wind makes him wish he’d worn a jumper underneath his leather jacket and Dan is about to give up when the path leads through a small grove and turns a corner – and there it is, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

A single small, ancient-looking house, leaning alarmingly to one side, its uneven stone walls covered to a large part by rampant roses, some of them still in bloom.

There’s no fence surrounding the cottage, but the letterbox in front of it bears a wooden sign that dangles in the wind and states in ornate letters “Rosery Cottage”.

Hesitantly, Dan clambers off his bike and retrieves his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. “You have reached your destination.”

The narrow path of cobblestone that leads up to the door is framed by a couple of crooked walnut trees whose leaves are scattered across the lawn. To the right, an old battered VW Golf is parked on a makeshift driveway. A pair of wellingtons stand guard on the wooden patio.

Dan takes a deep breath and starts towards the house, thinking as he rings the bell, this better be Phil and not some misanthropic old hag.

-

What he certainly does not expect is a little girl in dungarees and a yellow jumper opening the door. Her copper brown hair is braided in two rather messy pigtails, her round face dotted with freckles and there’s a bit of chocolate in the corner of her mouth.

“You’re tall,” the girl remarks casually after looking him up and down, pinching her chestnut eyes as if he’s blinding her.

As perplexed as Dan is, the comment makes him chuckle. “Am I really?”

“Yeah… you’re like, taller than my daddy.”

The last word makes Dan’s heart pick up speed and he’s about to say, “I’m sorry, I must be in the wrong place,” when a voice drifts through the hallway, accompanied by the dulled noise of a blow-dryer.

“Who’s at the door, Liv?”

It can’t be Phil, Dan tells himself. This guy just sounds similar because the noise distorts his voice.

Phil doesn’t have any kids - right? The image of the beautiful blonde from Phil’s phone screen reappears in front of Dan’s inner eye and he draws in a sharp breath –

“A man in a leather jacket, Daddy,” the girl yells back. “He’s very tall,” she adds after a second, almost reproachfully.

There’s a moment of silence, then the noise of the hair-dryer stops abruptly and the man who sounds like Phil shouts, “I’ll be right there!”

The girl keeps her eyes trained on Dan, making him uneasy, so he lets his gaze drop away from her face. She’s holding a furled newspaper in her hand, Dan can just make out an advert proclaiming “Three for the price of one!” and underneath it a crossword, partly filled in with wonky letters.

Someone clears their throat and Dan looks up, feeling his heart take a leap.

The man facing him is wearing mismatched socks and his black hair is still wet and ruffled, but it’s unmistakably Phil.

His eyes are wide and he looks like he can’t quite decide whether to smile or not. He looks a little bit guilty, Dan thinks with a selfish trace of satisfaction, but the feeling fades when he remembers the elephant in the room – although elephant is perhaps too large a word.

“I’ll take it from here, Olivia, thank you,” Phil says to the girl and her eyes flicker from Dan to Phil and back before she turns and skips off into another room.

“Olivia,” Dan repeats, avoiding Phil’s eye until he hears the other man sigh.

“Yes, her name’s Olivia, and she’s my daughter, as you might already have guessed.”

I’d be concerned if other children than your own called you daddy, Dan thinks, but he doesn’t say it because this is not the time for a joke. It’s time for an explanation.

“So who’s Louise?” he asks at the same moment that Phil asks, “So what brings you here?”

They finally look at each other.

“Shall I go first?” Dan offers. “Right. Last night, when you, er, bailed on me – you lost something.”

He tries to sound casual but the guilt becomes more evident in Phil’s face for a moment until Dan pulls the wallet out of his pocket and holds it out to Phil, whose eyes grow comically wide.

“My wallet! Thanks, I hadn’t even noticed – oh man, I owe you -”

“An explanation? Yeah, I’d say so,” Dan says with newfound confidence.

Phil exhales. “You’re right. I have some explaining to do. - Oh god, I haven’t even asked you in yet, I’m the worst -”

He steps aside, holding the door open. “Please, make yourself at home. I know you’re probably less than elated by me right now, but I promise I can explain if you let me.”

Dan looks down at the threshold in front of him. The welcome mat he’s standing on has a pattern of sleeping cats on it. One small step for man, one giant step for Dan, he thinks dryly. If he steps into Phil’s house now and more than that, into his life, it will never be this easy to leave again.

For some reason, the image of the newspaper the girl was holding appears to him. If only life were as simple as a crossword puzzle, with only one right answer to every question.

“Tell me one more thing before I come in,” Dan asks. “Seven letter word, starting with M, or eight letters starting with D?”

Phil stares at him for a moment, then his smile falters as he gets the hint.

“Seven,” he says quietly.

Married, then – Dan thinks, a sick feeling rising in his stomach, and he’s about to turn away and leave for good, when Phil adds in an even smaller voice, “But the first one’s a W.”

-

Seven letters, starting with W. It’s just like a crossword, but it’s not an easy solution at all, and having solved it doesn’t make Dan feel any better, instead it makes him feel awful.

Widowed, he thinks, and bites down hard on his bottom lip. Widowed. Of course, that makes sense. It explains the careful pace at which Phil went about their blossoming relationship. It explains his inability to be spontaneous, and the fact that he didn’t want to talk much about his past.

Phil’s a widower, and he’s got a child, and Dan is so, so insensitive.

He looks up at Phil slowly, afraid of meeting his gaze. But Phil doesn’t look angry or as if he’s about to cry. His face is painfully composed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Phil replies, and somehow that is all it takes for Dan to step inside and pull the door shut behind him.

He hands Phil the wallet, but instead of letting him pull his hand away, Phil holds on to it.

“Thank you,” he mutters and Dan gently presses his hand.

“Daddy, Micah keeps trying to take my pen!”

The bright voice from the right makes them both flinch, and Phil gives him a little smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “This way, please.”

The room to the right that they enter is the kitchen. Sunlight falls in through the windows and illuminates the large wooden table at which Olivia is sat, facing the door. The newspaper is spread out in front of her, opened to the kids’ page.

A small boy, a toddler at most, is squirming in his high chair, reaching out across the table for the pen Olivia is holding. As Olivia pulls it away from his grasp, he whimpers.

“Micah, hey!” Phil rushes towards them and takes the boy’s chubby little hand in his. “This is Livy’s pen, okay? Here, those crayons are for you. - And you, Liv – don’t be so harsh on him, you hear me? He doesn’t understand that it’s yours.”

He turns to Dan again, his face relaxing slowly. “Dan, these are my children, Olivia and Micah. Kids, this is Dan, who I was meeting up with last night.”

Dan smiles nervously as Olivia observes him, then she gives him a sudden toothy grin and turns back to her crossword.

“Here, take a seat please”, Phil says. “Do you want to drink anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Coffee would be lovely, if it’s not too much trouble,” Dan replies, sitting down on the wooden chair next to Olivia.

“Not at all.”

As Phil is busy with the coffee machine, Dan’s gaze drops to the table. Opposite of him, Micah is scrawling something undefinable with crayons. His hair is thick and darker than Olivia’s, his eyes azure and large in his round face. He seems to have trouble controlling his crayon, his small hand is clenched in a fist around it. Dan doesn’t have a lot of experience with young children, but Micah has to be at least two years old…

“I need a word with four letters for this flowery thing, daddy,” Olivia pipes up, catching Dan’s attention. “It’s not a tree, but plant and flower don’t fit.”

He peers at the crossword she’s working on. It has pictures in front of every line instead of questions.

“Give me a moment, Liv,” Phil says, rummaging in a cupboard for a mug.

“Have you tried rose?” Dan suggests charily.

Olivia looks up at him in surprise, then back at the paper. Her letters fit neatly in the boxes. “It works! Thanks, Dan.”

He smiles charily. “You’re welcome.”

Phil places the mug of coffee down in front of him before he sits down next to the high chair. Leaning on his elbows, he hides his face in hands for a moment.

When he emerges, he looks up at Dan. “So,” he says, clearing his throat. “You wanted to know about Louise.”

Dan, who’s about to take a sip from his coffee, puts the mug down, barely avoiding a spill of the scalding liquid.

“She’s a friend who occasionally takes care of my two rascals when I’m out. She was here last night and called to tell me Micah had banged his head. Turned out to be half as bad, but I tend to panic about my baby.” He reaches out to gently brush the hair back from Micah’s forehead, revealing a small reddened bump near his hairline.

The young boy reacts promptly. “Owie.”

A caring smile lingers on Phil’s lips. “Yes, you had an owie. Does it still hurt?”

“No more owie,” the toddler babbles, shaking his head.

“Good.”

Phil withdraws his hand, turning his attention back to Dan. His smile fades. “I’m sorry I left so abruptly, I overreacted. It’s just – Micah, he was in the car when…”

His voice trails off, but Dan’s fairly sure he can finish the sentence for himself. Phil must have lost his wife, the mother of his children, in a car accident.

Before Dan can think of what to say, Phil leans towards him across the table. “That’s why he’s a bit behind in development,” he adds in a low voice.

Dan glances at the toddler who’s clearly in his own world, scribbling away at the paper in front of him (and occasionally straying over the edges onto the wooden plate of his high chair). He tries to find something to say in reply, but quickly comes to the conclusion that there isn’t anything.

And Phil doesn’t seem to be expecting an answer. As Dan looks back at him, his eyes have gone out of focus, the iridescent blue glazed over with a hazy dolour that’s impossible for Dan to grasp. With a leap of his heart he reaches out one hand and places it on top of Phil’s that’s resting on the table.

Phil’s starts, blinking at him. He doesn’t smile, and yet there’s a glint that returns to his eyes as he becomes aware of Dan’s touch. When Dan dares to gently run his thumb over the back of his hand, he doesn’t flinch or pull back.

Silence settles into the room, not empty but filled with the sound of pencil scraping against paper and the strangely reassuring noise of an old house, alive with the creaking of wood and rattling of wind at its window panes.

The mug of coffee sits in front of Dan, gradually cooling down, forgotten in the moment.

-

It’s Micah who breaks the silence eventually.

“Daddy,” he says, and Phil startles, looking up and withdrawing his hand gently from Dan’s. “Yes, darling?”

But Dan observes with a hidden delight the faint flush of pink that’s settled on his cheekbones.

“Doggy,” is all Micah says in response, and Dan thinks he’s beginning to see what Phil meant earlier. Although children are more or less a novelty to him, surely a two-year-old would be able to form simple sentences?

He is torn out of his pondering by Phil’s voice. “Go on, take it.”

Dan looks up, finding that Micah is holding a sheet of paper out to him. There’s a bunch of brown crayon lines in one corner that vaguely form the shape of an animal, but that might be just interpretation because he knows what it’s supposed to be.

“For me?”

Micah nods, his blue eyes sparkling.

Dan smiles. “That’s… very kind of you, Micah. What a beautiful dog you’ve drawn there!” He takes the edge of the sheet between his fingertips; Micah lets go with a satisfied expression on his round face.

Phil reaches out to kiss the top of his son’s head. “Good boy, Micah.”

Dan looks down at the drawing, blinking, trying to conceal how touched he is. He really isn’t accustomed to children, doesn’t know how to behave around them, but his reaction to Micah’s drawing seems to have made the boy happy.

“Daddy, when are we leaving for London?” Olivia asks. She doesn’t seem to have noticed the change of atmosphere before, much to Dan’s relief. He has no idea how she feels about him getting to know her dad. Surely it can’t be easy after she’s lost her mother…

“Another two hours,” Phil says after a glance at his wristwatch. “Are you hungry yet? We can have lunch in a bit.”

Olivia nods, putting her pen away and folding up the newspaper. “I’m done with the crossword. Correct it for me, daddy, please?”

Phil smiles. “Of course, honey. Later, yeah? Though I’m sure there won’t be much to correct.” He takes the paper from her.

“You’re going to London today?” Dan asks.

“The therapist has her office in the city,” Phil replies, adding, “can we offer you a ride?” as if the thought has just occurred to him.

“Oh, thank you, but I came on my motorbike.”

“You’ve got a motorbike? That’s so cool! Daddy won’t let me get one,” Olivia pipes up.

Dan laughs. “Oh well, you see, motorbikes are very dangerous, so your father’s right about that. You’ve got to get a license so they’ll let you drive one. And for that license you’ve got to be of age.”

Olivia pushes out her lower lip. “That’s not fair. I’m so old already. Much older than Micah who’s just a baby.”

Phil, whose face has tightened up again, reaches out and strokes a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Patience, darling. Why don’t you draw a nice picture for the therapist before we leave? I’m sure she’d love that. And I’ll go have a chat with Dan – if you don’t mind?”

The last part is directed at Dan. He shakes his head, looking at Phil.

“I’m not in a hurry.”

-

He lets Phil lead him down a hallway framed with pictures. Some are drawings by Olivia, showing what is unmistakably the cottage, or a field of flowers – or a family, complete with a stick figure in a dress and long flowing hair.

The others are photographs.

Olivia in a nice dress with her schoolbag in hand and a wide grin on her first day of school. Micah lying in his crib, smiling up at the camera. The two of them playing in the snow together.

Phil reading to Micah who’s cuddled up to him. Phil braiding Olivia’s hair. Phil with his arms around the two of them.

Phil holding a newborn baby with flimsy hair and a reddened face, a younger Olivia leaning into the picture, curiously gazing at the small human. But they’re not the only ones on the picture – there’s a woman lying in the hospital bed behind Phil, her face out of focus, but the radiating smile still clearly visible.

There are more pictures of her. Ones of her baking biscuits with Olivia kneeling on the counter, stealing batter. Her rocking Micah in her arms, her mouth opened as if she’s singing a lullaby. The woman wearing a white dress and flowers in her hair, stood next to a beaming Phil in a suit. The two of them kissing.

Dan averts his gaze. He feels like an intruder.

“In here, please.” 

Taking a deep breath, Dan steps into the room.

It’s an office, complete with an old mahogany desk and shelves of books framing the walls instead of photographs as Dan notes with relief.

There are two armchairs near the window to which Phil guides him. They sit down, and Dan waits for Phil to speak, anxious suddenly about what he will have to say.

A moment of silence stretches at Phil looks around the room, letting his gaze wander as if he were the visitor.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Phil begins with a sigh, looking at his hands. “I’m not an easy person to date. I’m not your average single person – I’m a package deal.”

The newspaper advert comes back to Dan’s mind and he mutters, “three for the price of one.”

Phil chuckles, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he looks up. “You could say that, I guess… though the price might be higher I fear… You should know - in fact, you deserve to know, the truth. I’m a single father. I work around the clock. I get up at six. I cook, I clean, I comfort, I play, I sew, I fix. And at night when the kids are in bed, that’s when I find time for my actual job. I never have any free time except for when I get someone to watch my children, and I can’t do that very often, considering how far out in the country we live and…”

He breaks off, lowering his face into his hands. “I don’t like leaving them. I can’t be at ease when I don’t know exactly that they’re safe. I know they probably seem fine to you, but Olivia has nightmares and Micah rarely sleeps through. Sometimes he has crying fits that last for more than an hour. Liv has days when she’ll only speak to a photograph of her mum. Some days it’s almost alright. But it’s never easy and we’re not a perfect family. When I lost… when we lost Sophie, when she was brutally torn out of our lives by a careless driver -” his shoulders quiver as if in a quiet sob, and Dan holds back from reaching out and touching him.

“It was very hard for all of us. It’s been two years, and sometimes it still feels like there’s a hole we’ll never be able to fill completely. Once a month, I take the kids to a therapist in London. They stay there for an hour – meanwhile, I’ve got my own therapy session.”

He lifts his head slowly, keeping his gaze fixed on his hands as if they’re particularly interesting.

“I’m a man in therapy. I’m four years older than you, and I’ve got two children who demand a lot of care and attention. I barely make enough money to scratch along. I guess what I’m saying is… Dan, I really like you.”

That’s when Phil looks up to meet Dan’s eye. Dan sits transfixed, blinking in surprise. He didn’t expected that, not after the speech Phil’s just given.

The other man looks earnest, but his eyes are misty and his face contorted in regret.

“You must have noticed that I do. Talking to you over these past months has made me happier than I’ve been for a long time, and I’m so thankful for that. Meeting you last night was a dream. I’ll never forget it. I really do like you, Dan.”

Dan swallows hard at the repetition of the statement. His eyes have begun to sting. “Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming on?” he asks, willing his voice not to shake, willing his gaze not to stray from Phil’s sorrowful, beautiful face.

Phil takes a shivering breath. “I want nothing more than to get to know you. But I can’t leave my children, and I can’t have you come here and let them get used to you. They’ve already lost their mother. If we find we’re not meant to be, when we break up – they’ll get hurt. I can’t do that to them. I won’t let my children go through the pain of separation again, Dan. That’s why I have to say, I’m sorry. I like you, Dan, but I’m sorry, I can’t do this. And I know it’s not fair, and I probably shouldn’t even have agreed to meeting you, but I just -”

“Okay, Phil, hang on - ” Dan interrupts him, and Phil stops mid-sentence, his lips still parted. “What if we don’t?” he asks.

Phil’s staring at him. It’s so quiet Dan can hear him breathe. The moment feels extremely intimate and Dan wants to kiss the fear and worry off Phil’s face, but he remains where he is.

“If we don’t?” Phil repeats blankly.

Dan leans forward. “What if we don’t break up? Who’s to say it wouldn’t work out? What if we do, we click and we stay together…”

Phil’s eyes shut slowly, drawing ragged breaths.

“I mean, I guess I’d understand if you didn’t want to take the risk…,” Dan continues, but Phil cuts him off.

“Say I was willing to do so,” he replies, “would you want to bear with us? I’m in no way eager to send you away, but you’d have to be absolutely sure, Dan.”

He wants to say yes, but the word gets stuck in his throat. It’s not easy. It’s not as easy as he wants it to be. So he sits staring at Phil, mouth opened but no sound coming out, and Phil gives a sad little smile, not reproachful, but understanding.

Dan lifts his hand to prevent him from jumping to a conclusion.

“I’m going to need… time… to think about this,” Dan says slowly, looking Phil in the eyes as he speaks. “Because – I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it – but I really like you, too.”

There it is again, that sparkle in Phil’s eyes, the one that makes Dan’s stomach churn and the back of his neck prickle.

This time, it’s Phil who reaches out to take Dan’s hand. “I can give you time,” he says, and then, after a moment of contemplation, he adds, “You know what? How about this. Olivia is currently obsessed with dressing up” - a small smile curls the corner of his mouth upwards - “so we’re having a little gathering on Halloween. PJ will be there, the kids’ godfather and incidentally also author of the book I’m currently editing, and Louise with her husband and daughter. If you want to come, you’d be welcome to do so. If you don’t…” The look he gives Dan is gentle, and so is his voice when he finishes the sentence. “… then we’ll know.”

It’s two weeks until Halloween. Dan’s fellow students have already begun talking about the parties they’re going to attend.

He presses Phil’s hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He manages a small smile.

Phil smiles back, carefully, his eyes still not entirely free of pain.

“I believe,” he says then, very quietly, “there was something you wanted to do before my phone so rudely interrupted us last night.”

Dan’s eyes widen as realization hits him.

Phil’s face is close due to the fact that they’ve both leaned forward during their conversation, and his eyes are half-shut. There’s a tender smile still playing on his lips, and Dan’s eyes flicker down to them as he takes a shuddering breath.

Then, carefully, he closes the distance.

Phil’s hands move up to his cheeks. His lips feel warm and chapped against Dan’s, and he’s shivering ever so slightly, Dan feels it when his hands come to rest on Phil’s shoulders. He tastes like apples and cinnamon, as if he’s made of autumn spices.

The butterflies in Dan’s stomach are back, swirling like leaves in a thunderstorm. He tips his head to the side, deepening the kiss, drinking up Phil’s fear and sorrow, his sadness and his fondness, all of him.

The kiss doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, but it lingers in the air, tickles in their lips and their hearts after they part.

They stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, not saying anything because there’s nothing to say, yet there’s a sort of intuitive understanding between them that fills Dan with hope. Maybe they will be able to work this out. But he needs time to think. He’s only twenty-four, still a student – a family hasn’t really been on his agenda until now, much less one that’s already sort of complete in itself.

“I should probably go check on Micah and Liv, see if they’re hungry,” Phil says, still so close his breath brushes Dan’s face. Melancholy has already worked its way back into the creases of his forehead and Dan wants to wipe it away, but he knows that he can’t, not yet.

So he says, “And I should probably head back, look into some work for uni.”

“Well,” Phil pulls back and the moment is gone. “Thanks for bringing me my wallet -”

“Sure -”

“I’ll walk you out,” he stands, holding his hand out to Dan who grasps it.

“- and the kiss,” Dan adds, “I owed you that, too.”

His playful words manage to conjure up another one of Phil’s smiles, and he doesn’t let go of Dan’s hand until they’re at the front door. Outside, the wind has picked up, sending swirls of crimson leaves across the yard.

Dan and Phil stand facing each other, drawing out the moment of their parting. Finally, Phil averts his gaze and opens the door, and Dan zips up his leather jacket.

“I’m glad you came, Dan,” Phil says honestly.

“Yeah,” Dan replies, shivering slightly, though not from the rush of cold air.

“Me too.”

-

The last day of October is clear and bright, the sky a pearlescent grey. A strong breeze chases leaves across the country lane, making the trees sway and rustle. It’s cold, but this time Dan’s wearing a woolen jumper underneath his leather jacket, and anyway, he’s positively buzzing with a vibrant energy that warms him from the inside – and tickles him to push his foot down further on the accelerator, but he’s a responsible driver. He smiles to himself, feeling the wind and excitement drive him towards his destination.

When the cottage comes into sight behind the tree line, Dan’s smile grows wider. Two unfamiliar cars are parked outside the property on the side of the road, but he lets his motorcycle wheel past the post box and to a stop next to Phil’s car.

Taking off his helmet, Dan inhales the frigid, exhilarant autumn air. His pulse is throbbing both with adrenaline and anticipation. As he approaches the house, he picks up on snatches of cheerful conversation and hushed music that seep through cracked windows.

Two large pumpkins stand guard on the patio this time, their expressions hardly threatening. Dan feels like he must look somewhat like them – glowing with excitement, grin unalterably carved into his face.

Standing in front of the door, he takes a deep breath. He’s nervous, but not because he’s uncertain. He’s made up his mind, he’s decided to come here tonight for a reason. It’s just that it might be the biggest decision he’s ever made, and that does scare him quite a lot.

Okay, Dan. This is your last chance for turning back, he thinks, but instead he reaches out and rings the bell.

The sound seems to resonate in his chest.

A face appears briefly in the door window and with a squeal of excitement the door is wrenched open.

“Hi Dan!” says a cat the size of a young girl. She’s wearing an Alice band with cat ears on it and someone has painted crooked whiskers across her cheeks.

“Hi Olivia. Nice costume.”

Olivia grins. “Thanks! You too.”

He’s opted for a jumper with ghosts and pumpkins on it rather than a full-on disguise.

Stepping aside to let him pass, she adds, “Daddy’s in the kitchen.”

There’s a familiar twinkle in her eye that makes Dan wonder how much she knows, but he just smiles back and follows her inside.

As he closes the door behind himself, Olivia skips back down the hall to where the music is playing, but Dan remains where he is.

There’s a clanking of pots coming from his right. He swallows nervously, taking a final deep breath of courage before he steps into the kitchen.

Phil’s standing at the counter with his back turned to Dan, wearing a vampire’s cloak. His pale skin certainly fits the image, Dan thinks, feeling a grin tug on his lips.

For a moment he wonders how to announce his arrival, but then Phil turns around and flinches violently.

“Jesus, Dan!” he exclaims, blue eyes wide with shock, stumbling back against the counter. “You scared me!”

“Kind of the whole point of Halloween, isn’t it?” Dan asks, taking a few steps into the room. “Though I must say, your appearance is a lot scarier than mine.”

Phil’s face relaxes and he smiles, which entirely refutes Dan’s statement.

They stand facing each other for a moment, the realisation of what Dan’s presence means prickling like electricity in the air between them.

Then Dan clears his throat. “So, uh… Trick or treat?”

Phil laughs. “I’m afraid the treats are reserved for the children,” he says, biting his lower lip. His eyebrows are raised as if in a challenge.

“That’s too bad,” Dan’s about to say when Phil adds, “But I might have kept a special treat for you.”

They’ve gravitated towards each other almost subconsciously so that when Dan speaks again, he can see the sparkle in Phil’s eyes, the smudged red paint below his lip and even a few faded freckles that are dusted across his nose and cheeks.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

Phil’s gaze drops and Dan feels his heartbeat speed up again. Instead of replying, he slowly leans in. Licking his lips, Dan lets his eyelids flutter shut in expectation.

They snap open again a mere second later, accompanied by a gasp when he feels Phil’s hot breath fan his neck.

“Ph-phil, what are you -”

“Never trust a vampire, Dan,” Phil mutters, lips ghosting over a patch of skin, not quite touching it.

Instinctively, Dan’s hands have shot up to hold onto Phil’s shoulders. He moves them now, his breath hitching, heart thudding, to Phil’s face and tilts it gently upwards.

“You sneaky little shit,” he murmurs affectionately.

Phil’s grinning widely, his eyes scrunched up and lucid like the pumpkins outside.

“Now I have no choice but to trick you,” Dan continues quietly, “seeing as you wouldn’t give me,” he leans in closer, “my…” his mouth brushes Phil’s cheek, making his breath stutter. “…treat,” Dan completes the sentence against Phil’s lips.

They kiss slowly, unrushed, lips parting and reconnecting again in sync with their breaths. As if to prove his previous statement, Phil eventually takes Dan’s bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles on it gently, causing Dan to let out a small moan. They’re stood pressed together from head to toe now. He can feel Phil’s heart beat against his own and the gentle touch of his hands on the back of his neck.

When Phil begins to pull away, Dan whimpers in protest, holding on to him tighter, and Phil smiles against his lips, his fluttering eyelashes tickling Dan’s cheek.

“Happy Halloween, Dan,” he mumbles, winding his fingers into Dan’s hair.

“I’m glad you came.”

*** this used to be on my ao3 page (softiejace). i’m taking down my phan content for personal reasons but reposting it here so people can still enjoy it :) ***

[nothing-but-kpop-dreams]

Just Friends (2/?)

Author’s note: So yeah... I got around to doing the second part... Keep in mind that from this point on, the plot no longer sticks to the original request.

Word Count: 2851

Summary: Let’s just go ahead and see who found you in the alley.

ALL PARTS

“Y/n?��� the voice called out “Y/f/n Y/l/n?”

You were caught off guard.

 “Huh?!” 

As any normal person would, you looked toward the direction of the person calling out your name. However, instead of wiping your face and calming your voice like an actual normal person would, you locked eyes with that individual with your face a slobbering mess.

As if the night wasn't horrible enough, it had now become a living nightmare. You never thought you would see his stupid face, but there he was. “Y-yoongi?”

That’s right, it was the only and only Min Yoongi. You weren’t the type to dislike people, but he was one you could say you practically hated. The thing was, that asshole, now standing three feet away, was that same asshole that brought you and Tae together all those years ago. Oh but things didn’t stop at making fun of you for your choice of fashion, heck no. He made fun of you for 3 years! Considering that he was two years older than you, his torment should have only lasted 2 years, but the guy was stupid as fuck and he got held back a year. That was an extra year of dealing with him calling you names, tripping you in the hall, and one time even knocking down your lunch tray in front of everyone in the cafeteria. Not to mentioned the times where you had him for elective classes, like art, where he made it a goal to sit behind you and poke you with sharp pencils in the middle of tests, yank your hair, and “accidentally” kick your butt when trying to rest his feet on the back of your chair.

Easy to say, he made high school suck more than it already did. When he graduated you were beyond relieved. You even forgot all about him. The only thing you heard about him since high school was that he was in a study abroad program and was in Europe or England or something like that. So what was he suddenly doing in this downtown alley of all places? Why was he now, as some knight in shining armor, running up to you?

“Oh shit! It’s actually you! What happened?!? Why are you crying? Are you okay?” He asked in a panic.

It was like you were in the twilight zone. Your high school bully was all over you, not picking on you, but instead looking out for your well being.

What you were expecting to hear was “Haha stupid y/n is crying!” “Why are you wearing a dress? Boys don't wear dresses!” or even “Oh are you finally a girl again?” But instead, he knelt in front of you, grabbing your arms and checking for wounds and asking “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Even after all these years, his touch was repulsive and after the night you had you didn't even want to feel someone’s gaze on you, let alone have this stupid orange haired prick in your face.

“Let me go!” You cried, pushing his hands away… pushing him hard enough that he fell back on his butt into a puddle of mud made by the leaky dumpster.

“What the fuck! I’m trying to help you!” He shouted

“Just leave me alone!” you cried

That’s when you jumped up and ran out of the alley. You needed to get back home and hide away forever.

---------

It had been two days since the shit show that was “date” night. You have basically locked yourself inside your apartment the last 48 hours.  You weren't trying to be dramatic or anything, you just needed some space. The last thing you wanted to do was put on a fake smile and pretend to everyone around you that everything was okay or put in extra effort in paying attention in class because your mind wouldn’t stop replaying your fight with Tae.

Another reason (the real reason) you kept yourself locked away was to avoid Tae all together. At the beginning of the semester the two of you had made your schedules around each other, making sure you had lunch at the same time and would walk in the same direction at least once to have a quick catch up before class, you know, like the cute best friends you used to be. The last thing you wanted was to bump into him on campus. It was already hard enough trying to ignore his calls and apology texts.

Sure it sounds extreme, but you were sticking to your guns about avoiding Tae like the plague. You didn’t want to risk forgiving him because of your lingering feelings. You didn’t want to be friends with him anymore. Yes, you could look past him not having feelings for you, but what you couldn’t get over was him betraying you the way he did. The two of you had been friends for years, it hurt that he lied to you, that he ditched you for someone else. Speaking of, he ditched you for some random girl. Tae used to ALWAYS tell you about his crushes and the girls he went on dates with, but you caught him with someone you knew nothing about. What best friend holds back on something like that?

But anyway, your time in hiding was about to come to an end. You were out of food. Every time you opened your fridge, your lonely gallon of milk stared back at you and your empty cabinets laughed in your face. It was time to join the real world once more and get some groceries like a grown adult. Plus, you had a life to get back to. You had school and a job hunt to throw yourself into. You couldn’t let Tae hold you back from living life.

After a long motivational talk to yourself in the mirror, you got dressed in a t-shirt jeans and your favorite converse and walked down to the grocery store.

All throughout the store you mentally repeated your list in order to get yourself to stuck to your small budget. “Juice, eggs, ham, chips, bread, lighter fluid (you know to burn your stupid dress from date night). Juice, eggs, ham, chips, bread, lighter fluid.”.

It didn't take long for you to get what you needed and by the end you realized you had a bit of extra money to splurge on some cereal. So here you were in the middle of the cereal aisle using your intelligent college educated mind to decide which type of cereal you wanted to get.

Sadly, things took a turn when you heard,“Well well well!”

It was that voice again. It sent a chill down your spine. Immediately you were frustrated.

“If it isn't little ole y/n. I see you are back in your regular clothes again.”

You turned to the source of the sounds that were his words and caught his eyes scanning you up and down.

“And if isn't stupid ole Yoongi.” You spat back. “Are you some kind of stalker now or what?”

It was too coincidental to see him in the alley (which you pretty much forgot about till now) but seeing him in the grocery store was all the more nauseating.

He furrowed his brows at you. “Excuse me? A stalker? No.” He said in his usual arrogant voice. “I'm more of a music producer these days.” a sly smirk appeared on his face as if he was so much better than you.

And this was the Yoongi you remembered... and still hated. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “As if I actually care”

“Ouch! Still a feisty one aren't you? I see a lot hasn't changed since high school.” Again his eyes scanned you “Same personality, same taste in clothes-”

“Oh please! You still dress the same too!” you shot back “and you still have horrible taste in hair dye.” You had to take a shot at the obnoxious orange hair

“Hey, I admit this current color isn't working with me, but I rock a mint green alright!”

“Oh I’d like to see that”

His smiled only widened “I bet you would. I always knew you had a thing for me!”

You practically gagged. “Ugh! I was being sarcastic. All that hair dye really has made you stupid. No wonder you flunked a grade”

“Woah woah woah just to make things clear, I only got held back cuz I didn't care about high school, but I'm not stupid. I'll have you know my college gpa is 3.7!”

“Speaking of college, aren’t you supposed to be in England or something, why are you here annoying me?”

“Oh so I'm not allowed to be in a grocery store to buy groceries?”

You stayed quiet. You didn't have a comeback

“But if you’re so curious” he continued in a suddenly normal tone, with sincerity much like in the alley a few nights ago. “I’m back cuz I already graduated. And like I said before, I am a producer.” It was weird having him talking to you like a normal person. “There is an old friend in town that wants to collab and do a rap track, so I'm back for that.”

“How exciting” you said very sarcastically “But would you look at the time” you looked down at your bare wrist as if you were wearing a watch. “Seems like I have to be everywhere else but here since I don't give a shit.” You said grabbing a random box of the shelf and making your leave.

“You owe me a pair of pants you know!” he called out

You turned around “Um, what?”

“Oh, you know, from when you pushed me into a puddle of mud after I found you crying in an alley.”

“So? That's not my fault.”

“Uh, it kinda is since you were the one that pushed me!”

“Well you were the one all over me, what else was I supposed to do!?”

“Um, tell me what was wrong, duh! Obviously you seem fine now. But what happened? Did you get mugged? Were you harassed? Was it something going to the cops over?” With every word his tone went from salty to serious. You couldn't tell if it was an act or not.

“That all seems like something that isn't your business, don't you think?”

He closed his mouth shut, realizing you had a point. “Ok,fine. You're right.” He voice fell into a sigh, a sign that he gave up. “... But you do owe me a new pair of jeans. The only other way I’ll forgive you is if you take me out to lunch.”

He hit you with a curve. “What? Why?”

He shrugged. “I’m hungry. Why else not?”

“Because being with in 3 feet of you makes me want to gag!” you said bluntly.

“Oh c'mon, but we can continue our wonderful little chat.” and he went right back to being a shit face

For what had to be the hundredth time, you rolled your eyes. “I would rather get hit by a car.” you said as you walked away.

From this point on you quickened your pace to the cashier line.

You stuck yourself in the line of people hoping to not bump into some other person you happened to know and not care for. In the next half hour, you were finally out the door. Why it took so long? You didn’t know. Why you could stop looping your interaction with Yoongi? You also didn’t know. How you ended up with a box of raisin bran instead of frosted flakes? That you knew.

You walked out the grocery store and toward the road in annoyance with the box in your hand. “Stupid Yoongi, distracted me!” you grumbled to yourself as you glared at the box. “He just has to keep-”

“Watch out!” you heard a shout

Suddenly your arm was grabbed and you were yanked back. It was like slow motion. Your heels scraped against the curb as the rest of your body went flying back. You let out a yelp, sounding like a small dog when you felt someone grab you before you fell to the ground.

And now everything was a blur. All you could hear was mad car honks and gasps from the people around you.

“Are you okay?!?” it just had to be Yoongi’s voice again

You looked up at him, a bit confused about how he had his arms wrapped around you. You look around, realizing you were on the curb of the highway, the crosswalk flashing the light to not cross.  

“...Why did you do that?!?” you pushed him away when you realized that you were still in his arms.

“Because you were about to get hit by a car!” He shouted back at you.

You stayed quiet, a bit too frazzled to get your thoughts together.

It was easy for him to see how distraught you were, and that’s when he decided o say. “Damn, i didn’t think you were that serious about the lunch thing.” he said with a chuckle.

“...Well I was.” you said in a last attempt to gather whatever dignity you had left.

You couldn't put up a badass facade around him anymore, not after him seeing you in a dress, seeing you sob, and technically saving your life.  You were shookth to the core, you had to run.

The second the light signaled you to walk, you bolted away from him without even a thank you.

Your steps became faster and faster as you got closer to your apartment building. You had to reach your safe haven as soon as you could. Again you just wanted to hide away from the eyes around you and go unnoticed for once this freaking week.

At your building, you rushed to the elevator and smacked your floor button until the doors closed shut. Alone in the floating room, you tried to catch your breath and just settle yourself a bit.

Finally when it dinged on your floor, you steadied your pace down the quiet halls. you felt calmer knowing that you were just a few feet away from closing yourself off from anymore human interaction.

But when you turned the corner, you had the urge to run in the opposite direction.

He stood there like he was a lot puppy. There was a slouch to his stance a frown on his face. He stared longingly at your door s you peeked at him from the end of the hall.

Tae stood at your door with heavy eyes.His arms lifted it self to knock on your door, but suddenly he stopped. He let out a sigh of defeat, his hi hand fell limp to his side.

You weren't sure what to make of the situation. On sight, you missed him… but you were also just so mad.  Half of you wanted to walk up to him and pull him into a hug while the other wanted to bite his head off.

“Y/n, you are an adult.” you reminded yourself. “He came here for a reason. The most rational thing is to hear him out. You don't have to forgive him. you don't even have to say anything back.”

With that little pep talk, you were ready to face him.

You took a few steps, your grocery bags, slapping against your legs. The sudden sounds caught his attention and that’s when he looked over at you.

In that split second, his eyes lit up. “Y/n!”

Just like that, your words to yourself went out the window. Who were you kidding? You were upset as fuck!  You’re feelings  were as raw as ever. It was like Sunday night all over again. you could already feel the stick in r eyes and the stabbing pain in your chest radiating throughout your whole body.

You couldn't do it.

As he walked towards you, you walked past him.

The hint of a smile on his face disappeared and that frown was back. “...Y/n?”

You ignored his existence, simply getting your keys out of your pocket.

The Silent treatment. You had put him through this a few times before. It was never a tactic that he accepted. Right now, like the few rare fights before, he spoke at you in hopes that his words could get you to forgive him again. “Y/n, I’m sorry! I honestly am!” he pleaded as he trailed behind you. “Can’t we just talk again?”

You said nothing, you didn't even look at him as you unlocked your door.

“Y/n, you are my best friend! I miss you! Please just talk to me.”

You weren't too sure why, but his words struck a nerve. Before You stepped inside, you looked at him. You did your best to put on the most serious expression you could. It was hard to not break down in tears.

He stared back at you with big sad eyes, that had just the smallest bit of hope only because you actually turned to him.

“No.” you said simply as you walked inside and closed the  door on him.

-Admin Boat

[complicatedandstained]

The Other Day at Hot Topic: Cuts

When Saïx walks out of the back office, all the pieces fall into place. Dem and Roxas had told Axel about the sweat and the sweatpants, and that would have been more than enough to put Saïx in a mood, really. If Saïx isn’t dressed to impress, he tends to feel as if he isn’t dressed at all.

But neither guy had been tactless enough to mention what’s really digging under Saïx’s skin. Saïx had been in such a rush to come in to his unstaffed store this morning that he hadn’t concealed the scar across the bridge of his nose. That Saïx feels self-conscious of the mark is the understatement of the century.

Because I look like a damned pirate, Axel, he had bemoaned more than once, sitting in front of his mirror, necktie askew, red-eyed, exasperated. Who’s going to take me seriously as a professional? The Godfather?

Axel had gripped his shoulders, pale green eyes unwavering. So, you take a page from the Godfather. You dress to kill and you make them take you seriously. You’re good at that.

Saïx had taken this advice to heart, thickened his skin to the occasional comments that came when his concealer sweated off in the island heat. He had tried to, anyway. But now the biggest gossip on staff has seen it. And Jesus knows Demyx had asked questions.

So, of course Saïx is in a mood, Zexion. Who wouldn’t be?

Axel doesn’t pause to think about whether Saïx is still irritated with him. He meets him halfway through the store and sets hands on his upper arms.

“Axel,” Saïx tries for cold but he just looks tired, lower lip jutting out, shadows below his eyes where swipes of metallic gold ought to be.  

The scar has never bothered Axel the way that people have told him it ought to. He looks at it and sees strength. Here is someone who overcame, someone who survived. The cuts were deep enough to finally get Saïx’s rabid old man as locked away as he deserved to be—deep enough to keep Saïx safe—so to Axel, the scar is beautiful.

Axel leans in and plants his lips on the broad, faint X. “Hey, Sai,” he murmurs, mouth barely lifting as Saïx’s hands settle on Axel’s bony hips. “Sorry, I’m late.” He presses his lips to the cross again and then to the tip of Saïx’s nose, warm sympathy flooding his chest.

Saïx fingers knead his side gently. “Where’ve you been, baby, hm?”

The words start to freeze the warmth in Axel’s chest, and he pulls back slightly.  

So, one vulnerability has heightened another.

He can’t help but get a little ticked again. All these years of therapy, so much emotional, physical, and general life progress—but when it comes to Axel, some days it feels like all Sai’s learned to do is wrap his possessive jealousy up in prettier, more socially acceptable paper.

Better than being screamed at every time he’d walked in late to fourth period study hall in ninth grade, sure, absolutely—but still kind of exhausting.

He’s lucky I’ve been in love with him since I was five.

Lucky I get it.

Lucky.

But shit. Look, he’s buffer than Rocky (Horror) and incomprehensibly dedicated to a good-for-nothing like me.

I’m pretty damn lucky too.

Axel runs a knuckle down Saïx’s cheek and smiles. “Nowhere special.”

Saïx realizes he’s misstepped and takes a thin breath, brows scrunching, wanting to explain. “Demyx said you were grabbing coffee, and you were gone for an hour, so I didn’t think it was unreasonable for me to wonder...”

Wonder. And send six texts. And torment Demyx. And God knew what next...

Axel closes his eyes. He decides to show mercy and ignore this remark. His fingers lace behind Saïx’s neck, his gaze shifting down to scan Saïx’s workout clothes, getting distracted. “You have no right to look sexier than me in my own damn sweatpants.”

This off-hand observation proves to be a suitable salve to Saïx’s ego, because he smirks and says, level as ever, “I beg to differ. They suit you just fine.”

Axel can’t quite reign in a bark of laughter. Axel is never letting Demyx order anything for him again. “Sai, there’s a reason I put them in your drawer. They’re twice my size; they slip right off of me.”

Saïx’s pale blue brows bounce up emphatically, and his smirk is pointed. “And that’s a problem?”

Oh, so he does remember. The noise Axel feels in his throat is practically a purr as the heat returns to his skin.

“Oh, gross...”

Demyx is choking over all of this verbal PDA, and the couple glance over at his gaping as it evolves into audible sputtering. “Wait.” Demyx freezes, gestures emphatically at the white “THE ORGANIZATION” printed down the side of Saïx’s leg. “Saïx, are you advertising for us? You? How did I not notice that earlier?”

Saïx’s lips turn down. The glare he aims at Demyx knocks him back a step into the rotating piercing fixture. “This,” he smooths the first few letters with a hand, “was supposed to be between me and my pilates instructor.”

“I feel…” Demyx grasps at the empty air and looks as if the ground has split open in front of him to reveal hell itself, “strangely numb.” He blinks at the couple a few times, and Axel and Saïx untangle and separate. “Do you like, listen to our music in your free time? Oh my god. What’s your favorite song on our EP? I’m partial to “Oblivion” myself. Luxord wanted to cut it. He says the best one’s “Dusks”, but I bet you... Oh my god. Unless you think the whole thing sucks.” Demyx pouts, eyes widening, puppy-like. Stumbling forward, he grabs for Saïx’s shirtfront, fingers clinging to the sturdy, ribbed tank. “You don’t, do you?”

Axel doesn’t bother to contain his laughter. He knew Saïx had their EP on his phone, but listening to your boyfriend’s band in private and admitting to being a fan to Demyx are two wildly different beasts.

Saïx does a quick assessment of the store to ensure no customers or other employees have been privy to this bizarre conversation. Satisfied that they’re alone, he slips a blue flyaway behind his ear and proceeds to pluck the fingers from his shirt, one by one, with each pull, a word, “Get. Back. Behind. The. Register. Demyx.”

Axel feels like he’s watching a puppy being denied table scraps.

Stunned, Demyx lets his hands drop and hops upright, spinning on a toe. “Yes, sir.”

Axel sets a hand on Saïx’s shoulder and rubs. The creases in Saïx’s forehead ease.

“And Demyx?”

Demyx twirls back around, face serious, light colored eyes still wide and childishly hopeful. “Sir?”

Saïx catches Demyx’s eye, expression stoic as ever. “I’ve listened to “Oblivion” about five hundred times. Luxord’s an imbecile.”

Saïx makes a point of ignoring Demyx’s unbridled whimper of joy, turning back to Axel with a faint, pleased yet exhausted smile.

“You’re never going to hear the end of this one,” Axel warns, smirking in return, hand on Saïx’s pec, pressing another step closer.

“I…”

“Welcome to Hot Topic, ladies,” Zexion greets with uncharacteristic vigor from his post at the mouth of the store.

Axel assumes it’s a warning to make themselves presentable, and resists the temptation to do the opposite.

Saïx glances to the customers and then to the racks and displays, and Axel knows the slightest imperfection will take him another hour to fix if Axel doesn’t act quickly.

Axel hooks a finger into the neck of Saïx’s tank and murmurs, “Wanna take this somewhere a little more private?” He bounces his brows. “I know where they keep the fitting room key.”

Saïx sighs, but he doesn’t hold back his smile this time. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m joking. Everyone knows Hot Topic fitting rooms are dirtier than Larxene’s lingerie.”

Saïx snorts in spite of himself, expression utterly disgusted, but gestures for Axel to follow him to the office. “If you were on staff, I’d write you up for saying that.”

“For saying that about the fitting room or for saying that about Larxene?”

“Both.”

[distinctlywhumpthing]

4&5

Reposting without fear/threat/mention of noncon, please note all of the other CWs before for each part. Happy to answer questions or help with censoring.

4.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

CW: explicit language and content, torture, captivity, wounds, implied sex work, strangulation, choking, suicide (hanging), suicidal thoughts/explicit planning, mouth whump description (bleeding, asphyxiation, choking), breathing, bruises, beating, conditioning, dehumanization, noncon touching (non sexual), drugs, alcohol, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, whumpee as caretaker,

August once asked what they do to me. Mouthed it, like he couldn’t stop himself from forming the words, but didn’t bother voicing it out of horror or just because he knew I couldn’t answer. I wouldn’t fucking know where to begin anyway.

Probably down on my knees.

At this point, our situation boggles my mind even more than when they trained me to be silent. That was logical when you psychoanalyzed it but shit got fucked sideways when August came into the picture. It’s just senseless now, an unending labyrinth of manipulation and control. Double the captives means double the fun. I was lucky to be alone for so long. There were two others before him but never like this. In the grand scheme of things, they’re all mere drops of water in the swimming pool of my time here. It was another woman first, although I never learned her name. She seemed like a Tiffany or a Heather and was really pretty, too but never trusted me. Wouldn’t even look at me, as if I wasn’t just as much of a prisoner as her.

Poor thing was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw something she shouldn’t have. She didn’t last long at all. Unraveled faster than you can say, “Money’s on the table.” You’d think she’d have a little more grit. I mean you hear stories and can only imagine the shit they put up with in that industry, but it was like something out of an exorcist movie. Crying hysterically, throwing herself at the walls and doors, and trying to strangle the life out of me like I was sitting on a key. They came in and intervened but not before she’d purpled my neck so I could barely breathe. That was the only time they ever took the shock collar off. She spent the next bit catatonic and then one day when they brought me back, she was dangling by her own diamond-studded jeggings from a pipe on the ceiling, toes just a few inches from the ground. Damn slow way to die. They took out the pipe.

I’ve given it a hell of a lot of thought myself. She’d obviously been trying something similar with smacking herself into the concrete walls, but that will only get you a concussion that makes it feel like you’ve gone a few rings deeper into Hell. No, thank you. My choice would be the naked lightbulb on the wall, next to the door. If I shoved it far enough down my throat before it broke, I’m pretty sure I would asphyxiate before they could do anything. The key would be to bleed enough into my bronchial tube and inhale enough shards of glass to shred my lungs a bit. A little internal bleeding down my esophagus wouldn’t hinder the cause but certainly wouldn’t be fatal on its own, never mind the risk of just cutting my tongue and mouth to ribbons if it breaks too early. In that case, I’d be fucked. That’s why Wyatt leaves it there, uncovered, even though other lightbulbs down the hallway have metal cages screwed over them. Tempting me to risk it. He also knows that, now, I’d never leave August. I feel responsible and that’s why he holds my life in his hands. The torture will never stop and August is better off with me to take care of him in whatever way I can, even if it doesn’t even come close to reparation.

—

The next guy was probably mid-thirties and built like a truck. I can’t begin to imagine what he did to wind up here. He didn’t take to captivity well either. Everything they’d put into him, he’d let out onto me. The first time, I was pretzeled around one of the legs of my bed frame, while he punched and clawed at me, so hell-bent on not letting go, I was screaming my head off for help despite the collar. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Wyatt doesn’t like anyone to touch me. That went over like a lead balloon. Playing off his proclivity like somehow I had any right to decide not to be beaten. Wyatt would have stopped it anyway and I could have saved myself the next few days of my bunkmate beating the living shit out of me undisturbed as long as he left it at just that. As soon as Wyatt decided I’d learned my lesson, or was sick of seeing me limping and bruised, that guy was fish food.

The second bed was empty for a long time after that even though I’m sure there were others. Wyatt has a list a mile-long of people he’d like to get his hands on for one reason or another, but I never saw them. Wyatt would still bring me out to toy with me in his usual ways. The buffoons would bring me out when he wasn’t around for entertainment but they know better than to touch me more than cursory shoves to keep me cooperating and even then, more often with their phones or other inanimate objects, rather than their hands. To them, it was endlessly entertaining to get me high out of my mind and mess with me or make me play Emma Fortyhands until I puked all over myself. I should have known Wyatt wasn’t wasting any time during this plateau of suffering. From what August says, he was here for a handful of days, maybe even two weeks, before they made us roommates. Wyatt just talked to him, drilling him for hours. He had been screening him, looking for the perfect match before binding us together in torment.

They always take me first and bring me straight to Wyatt. He likes to talk to me about what he has planned for August, trying to get a rise out of me. Like I’d be dumb enough to think that any amount of disgust or fear on my part would make a lick of difference for August. If anything, Wyatt would double it just for my reaction. Next, Wyatt makes sure I’ll make it through what he has planned for me without passing out. The humane thing would be to give me a second meal or something but instead, he gives me whatever his henchmen have lying around. An unpredictable twist added to my slow destruction. I’m lucky if it’s an energy shot or some gross drink that tastes like fruit-flavored battery acid and leaves me shaking. More often, it’s “just a bump” of something that makes my heart race and the whole session so unbearable I’m screaming in my head at the top of my lungs until I come down.

One time, he gave me a tab of acid. His favorite kind of experiment, the ultimate demonstration of his success. To no one’s surprise, I’m conditioned enough that I still didn’t speak and followed every instruction. That was, no contest, my worst day on this fucked-sideways merry-go-round. I was tripping so hard. Too slow and too fast at the same time, no distinction between myself and everything around me. Wyatt’s barbaric plan turned into a barbaric fuck-up. A small part of me understood what I had done even before I came down and when I stumbled out, I was met by silence instead of the usual dumb peanut-gallery comments. They threw me into the shower after, like always, but left me there for hours since I was still tripping. I was hysterical by the time they let me out. By some miracle, or just Wyatt perversely delaying the end, he had actually called a real doctor.

—

Today, Wyatt hands me a double shot of whiskey because it’s “cute” to watch me struggle when I’m tipsy. I knock it back in one swallow, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that frightens me. He finishes getting me ready and then smacks me on the ass to get me moving. Once I’m in the room, he starts feeding me instructions even though I already know what he wants from me today. This way, he’s in control of my every action, like he’s thinking for me, while I just focus on getting air into my lungs, fighting through the alcohol hitting my bloodstream and burning in my empty stomach. I can throw it up in the shower later if I need to. I just need to survive this.

By the time I stumble out, I’m inevitably a mess. Crying, shaking, and covered in sweat, even on the days I get the raw, straight edge experience. One of the baboons walks me to the small concrete room, empty except the industrial-looking shower head in the ceiling above the drain. The controls are on the outside of the room which is how they make sure the water is ice cold and stays on for exactly five minutes. They take the collar off and I get a bar of soap before they lock me in. It used to be orange soap bars that made my skin feel dry even wet. After that, it was green with the same problem but a stronger smell that clung to me all the time, which wasn’t half bad. Lately, it’s a white, rounder bar, that’s distinctly feminine, and leaves my skin soft, which would be concerning if I wasn’t already too balls-deep in my worst nightmare to care.

I used to dance in and out of the freezing shower while I soaped up but now I stay under the whole time. It’s the only thing that makes any damn sense anymore, the one small touch of reality in this shit storm. I stand under the frigid water and then shake and shiver once it’s turned off until the cold becomes a buzz on my skin and in my veins. Depending on the day, I wait for seconds or hours until they toss me a small, scratchy towel and clean clothes. The waiting is part of it. Not because I’m covered in goosebumps, muscles cramping so that I have to curl in on myself for heat, but because of what I know is waiting for me next.

When they finally let me out and lock me into the collar, it’s all I can do not to run back to our basement hole as fast as my legs will carry me to make sure August hasn’t bled out or gone into shock while they kept me from him. It’s all I care about anymore, helping him survive, making him as comfortable as possible. Honestly, it is the least I can do. It’s my fault he’s here at all, kept to be part of a set. Not to mention the heinous torture. If I had known, I would have done my damndest to kill him before it ever even started

And I would have inhaled that fucking lightbulb immediately after.

5.

CW: explicit language and content, torture, captivity, conditioning, dehumanization, electrocution, shock collar, being watched, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, possessive whumper, whumpee as caretaker, letmeknowifimissedany

He looks young, too young, like the kind of barely-adult who’s still carrying around a duct tape wallet they made themselves in high school. Maybe old enough to have graduated from college, but still doing whatever he can to delay wearing a tie behind a desk for the rest of his life. Even if that means working at a job that doesn’t even require a diploma so long as he can still surf on weekdays before work. Considering grad school just to avoid working a forty-hour week and his parents will pay for it anyway.

“Hey, I’m August,” he says, giving me a confident smile and holding out his hand as he towers over me.

I back into the wall, shake my head and wonder if I’ll get a warning shock even though I dodged his handshake. None comes, but I don’t take it as an invitation. Those don’t exist in this universe.

“It’s okay, Honey. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, tilting his head to the side so his bangs clear off his eye and backing away to sit on the bed with his hands held up.

God, he’s like a poster boy for Division One lacrosse. All tan, lithe muscle, white teeth, and that stupid, floppy hair. He looks out of place not wearing some bullshit nautical motif printed chino shorts with a collared shirt tucked in—probably a polo. The type to drive his Audi (his mom’s old car) into the seedy part of the city to buy pot but he’ll 'never smoke before a game.' Christ, what was this dipshit doing mixed up with Wyatt?

I push off the wall, staying out of arms reach, and go sit on my bed across from him. I pull my legs up off the floor for good measure and settle into staring him down. He better not try anything.

He looks around the room again before returning his gaze to me. “I’m not really sure what the etiquette is here. Should I make small talk and ask you where you grew up?” he asks, sounding as much like a tool as he looks.

No, Jackass, you should keep your fucking mouth shut so I don’t wind up paying for your uninspired commentary.

“Can’t really tell what the weather is like with no windows,” he comments.

Please stop talking. Don’t you dare start—

“Honestly, it’s not as bad as I thought. I was terrified when they first—”

The electricity zips through me, tensing every muscle.

A warning buzz, the lowest setting, but still strong enough that I have to catch my breath after. I keep it soft and quiet always careful not to double-dip by being loud. “Seen, not heard, Pretty Thing,” is what Wyatt had said, years ago, when he introduced me to my new constant companion. Sound activated and remote-controlled with several levels of intensity for all your everyday sadistic needs. The first week was an awful cycle of fuck ups. They were constantly shocking me with the remote. I’d cry out, only to be shocked by the human-bark-collar feature and wind up trying to claw it off, which would get me a third shock. Each time, the voltage increasing, over and over, until I’d pass out.

He’s paled at the sight of me. “Uh, you okay, Sweetheart?” His voice is lower, softer, like it was before when he said he wouldn’t hurt me.

I glare at him. No, Fuckface, I’m the unlucky, unwitting barometer for the class. I just got electrocuted because you started talking about a no-no subject.

I consider putting a finger to my lips to tell him to shutthehellup even though I know I’ll get a shock for the gesture. If I do it with my middle finger, will they shock me twice for killing two birds with one stone? Is it worth it anyway?

I look at the camera.

I’m sure Wyatt is watching. He lives for this. He watches every time his henchmen toy with me, too, even though that usually happens when he’s busy or away, so it’s on a recording. He loves watching me be as he made me. Pushing, testing, and dissecting his intrinsic control in different contexts. I know he loves correcting me, for the thrill of it, but it’s always with a hint of disappointment because perfection is what that twisted motherfucker is chasing.

August—shit, what a name—follows my gaze and must be noticing the camera for the first time because he swallows audibly and looks back at me with wide eyes.

This one’s going to fold like a lawn chair. He’ll be unhinged the first time they hurt him. By the looks of him, that hasn’t happened yet, which is a bad sign for sure. Hopefully, he gets that this isn’t open mic night, but he still looks anxiously confused. It’s not like I can pull down the top of my shirt to show him the collar either. That will get me a top-notch, skip all the low gears and jump straight to the chip-my-teeth, muscles-sore-for-hours, flooring-it kind of shock. Although, if I pass out, he’ll probably can it.

“I—” He stops, shakes his head, and drops it into his hands. Whispers, “Oh, man,” under his breath.

Idiot. What did you think this was? A chance to network?

I watch him try to collect himself. He’s raking through his auburn hair one hand at a time while he keeps his head hung. He might be the same age as me. I have no idea what year it is. Time flies when you’re having imprisoned in a windowless basement. August looks like he’s just been hit by reality.

Damn, kid. Don’t fall apart yet.

I rise to get him a drink of water before he completely loses it.

He watches me out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t lift his head until I’m holding the cup out beside him. He sniffles and wipes his face with the back of his hand pathetically before taking the little paper cup.

“Thanks, Angel,” he says huskily.

Drop the pet names, you’re not a southern grandma. I refrain from rolling my eyes. That one is a grey area. Sometimes Wyatt thinks it’s funny, other times, not so much. I go back to my bed and hug my legs to my chest so I can rest my chin on my knees.

August tosses back the water like it’s a shot and then leans over to put the cup on top of the cabinet. He scoots back so he’s leaning on the wall and fiddles with a paracord bracelet on his wrist. I’m surprised they let him keep that. He’s clearly not wearing his own clothes, just some cut-off sweatpants, and a plain white t-shirt. Either that or they abducted him in his pajamas.

He’s quiet until the light shuts off a little while later.

“What’s going on?” he asks. He must have stood up because a second later he walks into the foot of my bed. “Ow, sorry, I can’t see.”

No shit, Numb Nuts. Go sit back down before you hurt yourself.

He finally does and when my eyes adjust, I see that he’s lying down, but facing me with his head propped up on one hand. “I guess if you’re not freaking out, this must be normal. Does this mean it’s night? I was hoping we’d get to eat something. Did you eat already? I haven’t eaten today. I think it’s been—”

It’s too dark for him to see my reaction when they shock me. Assholes. It’s not going to work to stop his chatting unless he sees the consequences of his topic choice for himself.

“—a few days since I got here, but I don’t know for sure. I’ve been in—”

Another shock, stronger than the last. Fuck me, he’s not going to stop talking.

“—basement rooms the whole time, but it hasn’t been that bad. All they ever did was—”

I’m having trouble fully catching my breath with how fast these are coming, the voltage ramping up each time. God, just go to sleep, please.

“—ask me a whole lot of questions. It reminded me of my college admissions interview but more like a—”

Holy hell does it hurt. It’s been a while since I was reprimanded up to this level. I’m not stupid or brazen enough to fuck up twice in a row anymore, let alone four times. There are tears running down my face. I guess this is more about telling me not to listen. If I block my ears will they stop? Probably not and that’s way too close to touching the collar anyway.

“—personality quiz. I guess that’s over now. I don’t know what’s going to happen—”

Stopstopstopstop.

“—next but I’m happy to have some company. Although, I guess you don’t talk much…”

Breathe, Emma, justfuckingbreathe. I do it through clenched teeth. My face is wet with tears and snot from the last two. I never have figured out if the duration of the shocks increases as the voltage does or if it just takes my body longer to recover. I can barely hear August ask if I’m okay over the sound of my pulse hammering in my head and my own breathing. Fuck. Get it together before you give yourself the shock that knocks you out.

Something taps me in the arm. I open my eyes as I shove myself back into the wall. August quickly steps away from the edge of my bed.

Ohmygod, Dumbass. Did you just touch me? Can’t give me a goddamn minute? I hold my breath but nothing happens.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, Baby,” August repeats in a whisper, “I just brought you some water.” He holds out the cup, staying a full arms-length away, fingers gripping the top like a claw. He must have tapped the bottom of it against my elbow if they haven’t shocked me. It wasn’t his hand after all.

I exhale and carefully take the water by the bottom, trying not to shake so much that it spills.

He moves away, slowly, keeping his hands out at his sides again like I’m holding him at gunpoint. “I’m sorry,” he says, so softly I almost don’t hear it.

He thinks I was emotionally upset by his monologue. If only you knew, buddy. At least he won’t do it again or mention anything similar.

Eventually, he falls asleep and I’m thankful for the silence. Wyatt and his goonies talk to me plenty but it’s different when someone is expecting me to answer, and then I can’t. I stay up as long as I can because once I’m sleeping, I get shocked on a timer. Thankfully just with the lowest setting, but I’m not in any rush to feel it again. Sometimes, I swear it's every twenty minutes. Wyatt intentionally varies it. Snapping me back to my jacked-beyond-belief reality so I don’t ever forget it. As if my dreams haven’t also bowed to Wyatt’s will, but he knows that, of course.

He likes me better on my toes.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

[toumakibangs]

°*TouMaki - Advent Calendar 2018*° DAY 14 - “WREATH” (“Character A loses a bet and has to wear a different ugly Christmas sweater every day till Christmas. Character B works at a clothes store.”) by @theyaoibandits Mod’s Note: When I published the Supporting Prompts List(s), you ALL (wanted this one (which was absolutely impossible to predict I mean Makishima and ugly sweaters who would have ever guessed it was going to be popular), but Nana was the quickest of the lot to turn in the request and, ultimately, the one that got it - and oh my, did she do it justice! Grab your popcorn and enjoy our favourite idiot pup Jinpachi as he enters the magical world of Ugly Christmas Fashion, courtesy of Arakita, and stumbles on a very peculiar clerk...

Title: All I’m Asking For

Author’s Note: “This was based on supporting prompt: “Character A loses a bet and has to wear a different ugly Christmas sweater every day till Christmas. Character B works at a clothes store.” It just screamed ‘Toumaki’ to me. Had a blast writing this, hope you enjoy.”

Toudou stood at the counter of the little shop he had entered moments ago hesitantly. Bouncing from one foot to the next, he looked left then right, checking his surroundings as if he wouldn’t want to be caught shopping there.

“What, did you lose a bet or something?”

Toudou gasped pulling the offensive piece of cloth in his hands close to his chest.

“H-how on earth did you guess that?” he demanded. The cashier shrugged apathetically.

“That stance, that grimace. You look like someone’s holding a gun to your head to buy the thing. Which means you’re going to an awkward holiday office party, or you lost a bet. You don’t look old enough to have a cubicle, so I went with bet. Lucky guess.”

“Well, aren’t you perceptive,” Toudou replied tersely. “You always so cheerful?”

“I’m stuck in a store filled with Christmas sweaters. I don’t know what you expected, sho.”

“I expect better customer service!”

“Wasn’t aware you were actually going to buy anything.” The cashier eyed the balled-up sweater on the counter.

“I’m not here by choice!”

And he really wasn’t. It was all Arakita’s fault. It had been a normal night, he hadn’t thought anything of it. He was just in his university dorm room, giving Shinkai his usual weekly lecture on unhealthy snacking habits when he had been interrupted.

“I always make sure to snack with the right balance of vegetables and vitamins. That’s why my skin glows so radiantly.”

“Can you even go 24 hours without talking about yourself, you narcissistic asshole!” Toudou wasn’t going to take the bait, but between Shinkai’s curious gaze and Manami’s ‘I dare you’ smirk, he folded.

“Of course, I can!” he announced to his roommate “Name the time!”

Needless to say, he lost spectacularly. Arakita and Shinkai went back and forth throwing out ideas for the punishment for half an hour before his fate had been sealed.

“No headbands for a month.”

“Nah, stupid. Let’s make him eat all junk food for a week.”

“No phone?”

“Make him denounce his stupid fan club.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Why don’t we just make him look ugly.” Manami gave his two cents before turning back over to continue his nap.

“That’s it!”  Arakita exclaimed, nearly spilling his can of cola over. “Ugly Christmas sweaters.”

“Ugly what?” Toudou forwned, not liking the taste of the word.

“You gotta wear an ugly sweater every day until Christmas.” Shinkai shook his head.

“That’s like three weeks. Even I think that’s a little cruel.”

“Thank you, Shinkai.”

“Starting Thursday.” The three boys stopped to face their youngest companion again.

“Why the fuck on Thursday?”

“Then it’ll be the twelve days of Christmas.” He was snoring by the time Arakita had processed the idea.

“Oh, that’s fucking brilliant. You gotta be in an ugly tacky Christmas sweater for twelve days straight starting Thursday.”

“No way.”

“If you fail, you have to denounce your fan club.” Toudou screeched in response.

“I-I’ll have you know that absolutely none of my sweaters are ugly!” Arakita only laughed.

“Guess you better go buy one then.”

And so Toudou had. He’d hit the shopping district on Wednesday after class. Unfortunately, he was clueless as to where one would buy an “ugly Christmas sweater.” He had been into four of his favorite boutiques, but none of them carried anything that would appease Arakita. He had been about to give up, getting a warm tea from a café when he spotted the odd store. He hadn’t remembered such a shop being on that strip, but he also couldn’t place what had been there before. It must have been new, he concluded, because there was no way he could have missed it otherwise. The door frame was outlined in tacky silver tinsel, and the door itself held the most hideous wreath Toudou had ever laid eyes on. He stared at it for a moment, wondering who on earth would choose such an awful combination of colors before finally entering.

“A place with such horrendous decorations has to sell something tacky,” he mumbled, hoping for the best. If this place didn’t work out, he would have been stuck asking for Arakita’s help, and he knew his roommate would put him in something truly despicable. Shortly after entering, it was clear luck was finally on his side. Half of the store was stocked with classic winter attire—coats, gloves and hats—and the other half was filed with rows of racks of multi-colored holiday sweaters. He sighed in relief. He didn’t see anyone, so he began to wander around, sifting through the sweaters for something he could work with.

“Hello.” He was startled by the sudden strange greeting and stood up straight looking for the source of the voice. His eyes finally fell on someone behind the checkout counter, but he found himself double taking. Was that bright green hair?

“Um, hi.” Toudou replied. An awkward silence fell between them.

“Can I… help you with something?” The attendant grimaced and Toudou flinched.

“Uh, yeah. I-I just need an ugly Christmas sweater, so uh…” he trailed off. The other scoffed.

“What are you talking about, none of these are ugly.” Toudou deadpans before gesturing to a black and neon pink sweater with a large cat-head that spelled ‘Meowy Christmas’ in curly letters.

“I beg to differ.” The man didn’t budge, and he and Toudou stared each other down for a few seconds before the latter huffed and turned away. “Fine!” He fingers through the nearest rack and pulls the first one in his size. “I’ll take this one!” He stormed over to the register and threw it down dramatically as the cashier followed behind with a grimace. He glanced down at his chosen sweater as he waited. It was a simple red and white one with some kind of ornament pattern across it. Not too awful. He must have gotten lost in thought looking at the garment if the attendant had been able to read him so easily. Which of course had led to their current argument.

“Well if you aren’t here to buy—"

“No!” Toudou cried. “I’ll take it, just- just here!” He shoved his credit card at the man and didn’t stick around long enough to hear the guy’s ‘have a nice day’ once the transaction was processed and his shopping bag in hand. 

And that was that. He wore the sweater to class the next day and suffered through Arakita’s torment and ‘mandatory’ pictures. His pride was more hurt than anything, but then Arakita casually mentioned that he couldn’t wait for tomorrow. So, after all of that awkward conversation he had made, he was back staring at that hideous wreath, willing himself to go inside. He shook his head trying to dispel his nerves. Not like he had a choice. He had to be wearing an ugly sweater tomorrow and, as tacky as it all was, he’d rather die than be caught wearing the same thing twice in the same week. If he were lucky, it’d be some other guy.

“Welc—oh it’s you.” No such luck. Toudou felt his fist tighten as he tried his best not to snap at the same sarcastic green-haired cashier. He took a deep breath before quickly walking to the side of the store he needed. He browsed through a couple of racks by the door, rolling his eyes at a brown one that was designed to make the wearer look like a gingerbread man.

“Just need another ugly sweater, if you would be so kind.” He grabbed the one he had been looking at and brought it to the counter with a frustrated sigh. The cashier frowned.

“They still aren’t ugly.”

“Highly debatable.”

“I’m just saying each of these sweaters are classically unique, designed with—”

“And I’m not taking fashion advice from a guy that unironically dyes his hair red and green.” Another staring match settled between them, and this time it was the worker folded He grumbled and looked away awkwardly.

“Cash or card?”

 _______________________________

The third time Toudou stood outside of the little shop, he inwardly cursed himself for not just buying multiple sweaters the last time. Bad enough he had to deal with the rude cashier, but he was sure he looked weird as hell for coming back three days in a row. He glared at the brightly colored wreath as if it were mocking him, the bells on it announcing his arrival.  His shoulders sagged in relief once he discovered he wasn’t the only customer this time. Two ladies were chatting and giggling near the coat section, and two— no three kids it looked like— were running amuck through the sweaters, knocking this and that down as they went. Toudou spotted the cashier who was looking conflictedly between the adults and children, and he quickly dove behind one of the sweater racks before he could be spotted. He wasn’t sure why he was hiding, but he stayed crouched, moving further into the sweater selection. He could hear the attendant trying to get the other customer’s attention.

“Um, ma’am. Can you— I mean, please keep your kids with you while you shop please.” Toudou winced at his awkward phrasing, but the ladies had gotten the message. With a quick shout from one of the women, the three kids we corralled, scolded, and reprimanded with no ice cream. Toudou couldn’t help but snicker, but his entertainment was cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps. His eyes widened as he saw a lanky arm reach down and pick up a sweater near him, most definitely from the rowdy kids’ antics, the sigh audible across the short distance. He scrambled for an excuse for being so inconspicuous, straightening himself to make it look like he was just leaning down browsing. He moved one rack away, then another to better position himself before stepping out. And right onto one of the fallen sweaters.

“Gah!”

He completely lost his balance, sliding a few inches sideways, his arms swinging in an ungraceful flail. He braced himself for contact with the hard, unforgiving tiled floor of the shop, but it never came. Instead, he collided with a warm body, solid and bony, but softer then the ground would have been. His surprised was short lived as he fell to the floor after all, a messy heap of hair and limbs.

“You okay, sho?” The question reached Toudou through his annoyance as he realized the guy had been trying to catch him. It was such a nice gesture considering how hostile they’d been with each other, even if they both ended up falling anyway.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Their eyes met, and Toudou saw a flash of recognition in the other’s before the cashier turned away curtly. Toudou frowned, but when he got to his feet, he extended his hand down towards the green-haired guy still on the floor.

“Thanks, I guess.” Toudou almost missed the mumble, but he replied on reflex.

“No problem.” An awkward silence fell between them again, and Toudou had to ask himself how many more times he could use awkward to describe the two of them. If it wasn’t the clunky stretches of quiet, it was the stupid word choices or weird motions.  Luckily, the cashier ended the stalemate.

“So, you need another one? Are you…” He trailed off as his face contorted into an ugly expression before continuing. “Are you collecting them or something?” He gestured stiffly to the racks around them, and Toudou couldn’t help the laughter that tumbled from his lips. The other flinched, but the student paid it no mind.

“No, no it’s still that bet, ha. I have to wear an ugly sweater every day until the Christmas Eve. Something dumb about the twelve days of Christmas or something, uh—” He fumbled for his words that usually came naturally, l feeling weird carrying an actual conversation with the guy. “And I don’t own any, or well, I didn’t. So here I am, uh, again.”

“Ah, well…” Toudou looked at the other expectantly waiting for him to finish his sentence. “Which one are you…” The student chuckled understanding what the other was asking. He leaned down and scooped up the knit piece that caused his fall.

“I guess fate chose the one for today,” he offered, the crumbled white and blue sweater in hand. He had taken a few steps towards the register when he realized the cashier wasn’t following. He turned back casually.

“Shall we?” That got the other moving, and they both made their way over to the counter, the soft chatter of the two women still in the store filling the background.

“Here’s your purchase.” The green-haired cashier held the bag out, and Toudou took it gratefully.

“Thanks again. For the sweater and the catch,” he pressed, a smile playing at his lips. The grin widened when he heard a mumbled ‘don’t mention it’ in response. “See you next time,” he shot a quick glance to the guy’s name tag. “Maki—”

“Wah!” Both boys turned to see one of the kids from before had started wailing. The mom began yelling again, and Toudou gave the cashier an apologetic expression before taking the situation as his cue to get out of there. He shuffled through the door and back into the chilly air.

_______________________________

 Toudou felt far less stressed than he ever had before outside of the shop the following day.  He didn’t even pause as he entered.

“Welcome—oh, uh hey.”

“Good evening!” Toudou chirped in reply. His eyes swept the store, and he realized they were alone this time as he began browsing the sweaters again as usual. When it looked like the cashier wasn’t going to say anything else, he took it upon himself to break the silence.

“Um, I’m not very good at picking out this kind of sweater.” A nod of acknowledgement was enough for him to keep going. “So, could you maybe, recommend one for me?” A few stiff moments passed between them before the cashier began to cross the floor.

“Sure…” Toudou couldn’t keep the grin off his face. The other moved between a couple of racks before selecting one and mumbling an awkward “this way.” Toudou bounded happily behind, excited that he had managed to bridge the gap between the two of them. At the counter, Toudou got a quick look at the sweater—a fairly tasteful silver and gold piece. But, before he could think of anything else to say, he had been checked out, receipt in hand. He lingered at the counter as he stuffed the paper in his pocket, watching the cashier switch his weight between his feet for a moment. He cursed inwardly, mad at himself for not getting the guy’s full name the day before. Before that kid had distracted them. And of course, the cashier wasn’t wearing his name tag today. He shrugged it off, and in true Toudou fashion, he improvised fabulously.

“Thanks, Maki-chan!”

Nervous about the other’s reaction, he grabbed his bag and bolted out the door.

_______________________________

The next day, as they both browsed the racks casually, Toudou explained the details of the bet. He sugar-coated it of course. He didn’t want Maki-chan to think he was vain. Somehow, the cashier got the idea anyway.

“What do you have against sweaters anyway?”

“For one, I’m more of a headband and scarf kind of guy. But it’s not the sweater part, Maki-chan, it’s the—”

“Don’t call them ugly again.” Toudou fumbled.

“Yeah well, they aren’t my style. They better get me that book I wanted for Christmas after all of this. I swear all my friends are jerks.”

“Sounds like a fitting punishment to me, sho”

“Hey!” He threw a soft punch that connected with the other’s shoulder as he pouted. “You’re a jerk too.” The cashier snorted.

“Well then,” he shifted to a different rack and pulled a piece off. “Here’s the perfect sweater for a guy like you.” Toudou frowned, but he took it anyway, rolling his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll take it.”

_______________________________

The next day, Toudou learned that Maki-chan’s full name was Makishima Yuusuke. He learned that his older brother, Ren, had opened the holiday pop-up shop for the season, and that Ren had designed most of the pieces in it. He learned that the cashier was studying fashion as well, following in his footsteps. He learned that he studied abroad in England for three years in middle school, but he wasn’t particularly keen on going back any time soon. How he had dyed his hair green back in high school on a dare but liked the results enough to keep it.

Toudou felt overwhelmed taking in all the new information and could only think to give the same back in return. He told the cashier how he was going to different, but still local university. About how annoyed he was with the campus dorms, but how excited he was for all the PT classes he was taking the next semester. He told him how he loved his parents and the traditional inn they ran up in Hakone but was glad he had come to Tokyo for school. He told him about his modest collection of headbands, and how accessories were the most important elements of any outfit. He was so caught up in the conversation, he almost forgot he needed to buy a sweater. He let Makishima pick one and bring it back to the counter.

“You know you could have just bought twelve of these on the first day, right?” Toudou groaned dramatically.

“I know, I know, Maki-chan, but I didn’t think about it then!” He ignored his new friend’s chortled laughter as he took his latest red and green monstrosity and left the shop.

_______________________________

On the seventh day, Makishima asked if Toudou had a favorite from his current collection. A family of four had left just minutes prior leaving the two boys on their own again.

“Nah, they’re all pretty much the same kind of ugly,” he shrugged, turning his attention back to the rack.

 That comment sent Makishima on a mission to find at least one sweater in the store that Toudou didn’t hate. They spent the better part of the hour combing through the product. Makishima would lift a sweater up and Toudou would shoot it down, citing some excuse to name it hideous.

“The design’s too blocky.”

“Nothing with animals will ever not be tacky.”

“The sleeves on that are different colored!”

“That won’t go with my skin tone.”

Finally, they stumbled upon a crisp white sweater that featured a simple golden bow.

“Still ugly,” Toudou supplied, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a half smile as he brought it to the front. “But it’ll do as the least horrible.” Makishima scoffed but rang it up without a fuss.

And if Toudou had “accidentally” twisted the garment as he passed it over the counter so their fingertips could touch for a little longer, well, no one had to know.

_______________________________

“Okay, you had your fun yesterday, but now it’s my turn.” Toudou stood in the middle of the sea of sweaters as Makishima watched from his position by the register. “I don’t care if each of these things has some design history. You knooow some of these are atrocious, Maki-chan. So today,” he pointed a haughty finger towards the cashier. “We will find the ugliest ugly Christmas sweaters in this store—don’t give me that look! You know you have a least favorite.” Makishima simply rolled his eyes.

“You have ten minutes Maki-chan. Ready?” He paused for a moment to give Makishima time to sigh and make his way over. “Go!”

They scrambled through the sweaters, the time limit upping the ante on their search. Toudou had quite a few contenders pretty quickly but stopped short when he found one nestled at the back of a row. It used an extremely odd color combination, and for a moment, he considered selecting it, until he realized why it felt so familiar. The design used the same colored as that horrid wreath on the door of the shop. A week ago, he’d have called the sweater trash, now it held almost a sentimental value. He smiled to himself at the thought.

His phone chirped, indicating time was up, and he quickly chose one of his other options; a dark green one covered in tacky tinsel and thick Christmas lights that make a “tree shape” when you put your hands above your head. When he saw Makishima’s, one that make it look like a creepy Santa Claus was embracing the wearer, he conceded, and promised to bring a picture of him in it next time.

_______________________________

The next day, Toudou leaned over the checkout counter complaining about how he was running out of proper accessories for all of his new sweaters.

“Nothing I own matches all this nonsense. The headbands are easy, I have a thousand of them, but scarves, gloves?” He threw his arms up in frustration. “It’s near impossible.”

“They’re just sweaters. Wear them on their own.” Toudou gasped, scandalized.

“How dare you, Maki-chan! I told you before that accessories are the most important part of an outfit.”

Before Makishima could really get into replying, a group of eight or so students walked in. Coupled with the other handful of customers already in the store, it had gotten quite crowded quite quickly. Toudou placed his sweater on the counter—the “ugliest” one he had picked out the day prior— and pushed it toward the cashier.

“I should probably get out of your way and let you do your job. It’s uncharacteristically crowded this evening.” Makishima simply nodded, and Toudou could sense his uncomfortableness. He took his bag, shooting his companion a sympathetic smile. “Good luck, Maki-chan.” Then he was out the door.

_______________________________

“So, my friends actually thought I was buying these sweaters second hand all this time. Me. Thrift shopping! Can you imagine?”

“No, not really.” Toudou threw a punch at Makishima’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to be so blunt about it.” The attendant rubbed at his arm with a frown.

“You were the one who brought it up, declaring you wouldn’t be caught dead in someone else’s old clothing, sho.” Toudou opened his mouth only to close it again when he couldn’t come up with a good retort.

“Fair enough. But I’m not mocking it or anything, I just—”

“You know you’re a diva, right?”  Toudou struck a dramatic pose, hands clasped over his heart.

“Oh, Maki-chan,” the sarcasm was clear in his voice. “You wound me.” The other simply shrugged, earning him another punch. “Asshole.” Toudou couldn’t remember who came up with it, but before he knew it, they were looking for the most pompous sweater design in the store. Of course, he had been the one to find it.

_______________________________

On the eleventh day, Toudou was startled by the voice that greeted him. For the first time since he had begun shopping there, the green-haired attendant was nowhere to be found. Instead, Toudou was staring at a lean red-head, behind Makishima’s usual counter. He was confused for a long moment; Maki-chan did say he’d be working the 4 to close shift until Christmas. But when he saw the mole under the new person’s eye, the connection was obvious.

“What can we do for you today?” the man that must have been Maki-chan’s brother asked.

“Um, I need a sweater,” Toudou answered lamely. The man only chuckled—and was that a smirk?

“Sure, we have plenty. Feel free to browse. Just let me know if you have any questions.”

Toudou nodded and slipped over to the half of the small shop he had grown accustomed to over the last couple of weeks. He skimmed through the familiar choices, picking a maroon one without much thought before bringing it over to the counter.

“Is that all for today?” Toudou nodded.

“Yes, that’ll be…“ He trailed off glancing back towards the sweaters.

“Sir?”

“Just a sec.” Toudou briskly walked over to a particular rack and sighed in relief when he managed to find the oddly colored sweater from the other day. He threw it on the counter with his other selection. “This too please.”

“Of course.” He was sure it was a smirk this time, but he didn’t question it as he grabbed his bag and made his way out of the store.

_______________________________

“Missed you yesterday, Maki-chan.”

Toudou wasn’t sure if the comment was too intimate, but it was the truth nonetheless. He also wasn’t sure if that was a blush on the others cheeks or not, but he didn’t ask.

“Uh, yeah. I had to run an errand. Took longer than expected, so Ren said he’d work.”

“I figured it was your brother. You guys look alike.” Makishima nodded in agreement, and the two of them just stood there, opposite sides of the counter, a stiff atmosphere floating between them. Toudou was surprised when the cashier broke the silence.

“So tomorrow…” It wasn’t much, but Toudou had caught on immediately.

“Is the last day of the bet, yeah.” Toudou laughed, but it sounded a little hollow even to his ears. No good, he had to fix that. “It’ll be nice to get Arakita off my back, he’s been teasing relentlessly this last week. Made me pose for pictures and everything. Rude.”

“I’m sure you can’t wait to get back to wearing your diva wardrobe twenty-four seven.” This time the laugh was genuine.

“You have no idea. If I ever buy another ugly Christmas sweater again, it’ll be too soon.” He giggled when Makishima frowned at the word ugly. “Alright allll of them weren’t totally hideous.” The other scoffed, and Toudou gave him a knowing look. “Don’t give me that look. I was traumatized in some of those!”

“Well it was supposed to be a punishment. Be weird if you enjoyed it, sho.”  Makishima fiddled with his hands beneath the counter, avoiding eye contact. When he looked back up, Toudou was waiting with a sweet smile.

“I might have been dressed as a fashion reject for the last week and a half, but some good things definitely came out of this bet.” Toudou swore he saw the corner of the cashier’s mouth twitch upwards, the closest he’d get to a real smile from his socially awkward companion.  He took a deep breath, pushing off from the counter.

“Alright Maki-chan,” he spread his arms wide. “Can you pick me out one last sweater?” Makishima walked over to the appropriate side of the store, and Toudou tried not to let himself dream that there was reluctance in the cashier’s steps. After a couple of moments, he lifted one hanger and shook it in the air for Toudou to see. It was a modest design but had fiberoptics in the fabric making it literally glow. They laughed together as Makishima returned to the counter.

“You said my choice…” he prompted and Toudou waived his hand back and forth to cut him off.

“I love it, Maki-chan. I’ll take it.” They lingered at the counter a little longer than amicably appropriate before the cashier finally handed over the bag.

“I—” he stammered, and Toudou paused, expression hopeful. “I hope you get everything you wanted for Christmas.” Toudou deflated, but put on his best smile, nonetheless.

“You too, Maki-chan.” As he exited the store that evening, he couldn’t help but think that the only thing he wanted for Christmas, was the man he had left behind the counter.

_______________________________

Makishima strummed his fingers against the marble surface in front of him, his cheek cradled in his other hand as he leaned over the register bored. He had been cursing himself all night about not having the courage to give the customer he had grown familiar with his gift. He had never really been in a relationship and knew his flirting skills were absolute shit, but still he thought there was maybe a spark there? One that might have been worth pursuing. But of course, he had chickened out, so he sat on the tall stool all shift, wallowing in self-pity. He lowered his gaze, eyes falling of the neat white gift box sitting on the shelf under the counter with disdain. He could hear Ren’s obnoxious teasing about “that one special customer” playing back in his head again. He had special ordered it for the man, and now felt foolish for it. He had done it to go with a particularly special sweater—the only one his brother let him design—only to find out that the piece in question had already been sold sometime that week.

He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, willing his Christmas Eve shift to end faster. He had twenty more minutes, then the pop-up shop would fold, and he could get back to his regular schedule—and hopefully forget about the regret sitting in his chest. His thoughts were interrupted with the chiming of the bells from the door. He straightened up, bracing himself for an interaction he was not at all in the mood for.

“Welcome to—” His greeting was cut short as he felt as though the breath had been knocked out of him. Standing before him, was none other than the man that had been occupying his thoughts all day. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold, and he saw him dust what must have been snowflakes off his coat. Before he could take in anything else about him or the weather, Toudou was looking at him with a brilliant smile.

“Hi Maki-chan.” Makishima still couldn’t believe the other was there and stared on, only speaking up when he saw Toudou’s smile start to falter.

“I—” is voiced croaked, but he pushed on. “I thought the bet was over.”

“It is.”

“But y-you’re here.” The smile was back.

“Yep!” Toudou took a few steps closer to the counter, hands behind his back as he leaned forward. “I wanted to come back. To ask a question—”

“When did you get that?” Makishima spoke pointing awkwardly at the other’s chest. He felt bad cutting him off, but he couldn’t help but stare in surprise at Toudou’s attire—well his sweater to be exact. He was wearing his sweater, the one he hadn’t realized had sold.

“Oh uh, I bought it before—that day you weren’t here. It, well, it reminded me of you actually, so…” he stammered, turning away quickly. Makishima couldn’t hold back the loud guffaw that escaped his throat.

“Well, that’s good I guess, sho. Since it’s mine.”

“Huh?”  Makishima realized that probably sounded weird and clarified.

“I designed that one, the sweater. Ren said I could do one, and that’s,” he swallowed thickly. “That’s mine, my design.” Both blushed, the weight of the statement sitting between them. When Makishima couldn’t take the silence anymore, he spoke.

“Uh, didn’t you have a question?”

“Oh, yes! Um,” Toudou began to fidget, his previous confident tone a bit shaken as he paused mid-sentence for a moment. “When do you get off?” he blurted out quickly, blush even more prominent than before.

“Hah?” Makishima couldn’t quite believe what he had heard.

“I mean it’s Christmas Eve, and if you aren’t busy—obviously you might already have plans, but I figured it was worth a shot, and oh my god, of course you already have plans— it’s literally Christmas, I’m sorry for bothering you, I can just—”

“Six.”

“What?”

“I—” Makishima took a deep breath and continued, determined to speak clearly. “I get off at six. We close early today, sho.” Toudou smiled again, and Makishima felt warm despite the weather outside.

“Well then,” Toudou recovered as if he hadn’t been over analyzing everything a moment prior. “That’s great. Great, would you like to get dinner with me?” Makishima could feel the heat in his cheeks again.

“Uh, yeah. I’d like that.”

Makishima quickly began sweeping up the shop, and Toudou sat, prattling on about his roommate and classes as usual to fill in the silence. With a final wipe of the counter, after shoving Toudou’s butt off of it, he was shrugging on his coat, keys in hand. He locked and stored the cash box beneath the counter when his eyes fell to the gift box again. He grabbed it, tucking it under his arm as he flipped off the light. He couldn’t wait to see Toudou’s face when he opened it—a scarf tailor-made to perfectly coordinate with the very sweater he was wearing. 

“Ready,” he mumbled.

“Then let’s go!” They filed out of shop and into the chilly evening air. “You’re gonna love this place Maki-chan, they make the best…” Makishima nodded, locking the door and shoving the key in his pocket. Toudou slipped his arm around his and leaned into him as he continued chatting, shivering as a strong gust blew past. The bells on the door’s wreath jingled with the breeze and the two paused simultaneously to look back at the familiar sound. They shared a laugh, then a smile, before turning back and walking hand in hand down the path.