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kelyon · 4 years ago

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Golden Rings 21: An Owner

The Storybrooke Sequel to Golden Cuffs

In which Lacey just wants to belong

Read on AO3

The condom box was open.

Lacey Gold looked down at the crumpled plastic bag in the back seat of Mr. Gold’s Cadillac with a sickening dead feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t brought the bags in last night. It had been raining too hard and she’d been too upset after she’d seen him… seen them. Her husband, and a man she didn’t know, standing close together. Touching.

Mr. Gold never touched anyone if he could help it. He hadn’t touched her in six months.

And now the condom box was open. And the lid was popped up on the tube of KY jelly. And there was an empty black wrapper on the red carpet of the floor mat. And last night Mr. Gold had taken the car out late and had come back even later.

She should be grateful that there was no sign of the actual used condom. She could imagine the thing, a limp white tube, like the skin of a snake after it had shed. Would finding it make her feel any worse? It was bad enough to imagine it sliding into a garbage can, or being casually tossed out the car window. The end of her marriage--of her life as she knew it--was nothing more than another piece of litter on the highway somewhere.

Trash. Mr. Gold had always said she was trash.

Eyes burning, Lacey grabbed the plastic bag and headed back into the house. Mr. Gold was coming out to the garage. She pushed past him.

“Aren’t you--” he began.

But she cut him off with a “No!” and unlocked the door to the kitchen. Alone in the unlit room, she braced her hands against the counter and faced the wall.

She sounded like a child, a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. For a second she wondered if Mr. Gold would come back. Maybe she hoped that he would. Maybe she hoped he would come into the kitchen and ask her what was going on. As if both of them didn’t already know. Maybe she hoped that he would comfort her--that he would try to offer some sort of explanation. Maybe she hoped that he would yell at her--that he would tell her enough was enough, that he had expectations of her behavior and he didn’t give a damn how she felt. Maybe she wanted to yell at him.

No, she definitely wanted to yell at him.

That was probably why he didn’t come into the kitchen. Over the pounding in her ears, Lacey heard the sound of the Cadillac starting up and pulling out of the garage. Mr. Gold had to open the shop, after all. That had to be more pleasant than having another emotional confrontation with his hysterical madwoman of a wife.

“Coward,” she spat. Somehow, it felt like the worst possible thing she could call her husband. “Afraid of having a fucking honest conversation.”

She was still holding the bag by the handle. Strange that the plastic hadn’t melted in the heat of her rage. Strange that the cloth clutch in her other hand hadn’t started smoking. There was fire in her heart, magma flowing through her veins instead of blood. She wanted to explode.

She was going to explode.

Stomping through the halls and up the stairs, she threw open the door to Mr. Gold’s bedroom. It had been more than a month since she had last set foot in this room, not since the shitshow that had been their anniversary.

Lacey didn’t dwell on coming back here. She didn’t look through the empty space inside the armoire where her clothes had been. She didn’t go into the bathroom and see if her husband had let his toiletries spread out, now that hers weren’t in the way.

She didn’t look at her pillow, at her half of the bed they used to share.

What she wanted was under the bed. Three custom-made burgundy leather cases on wheels. They looked like luggage, but they had never traveled farther than Mr. Gold’s cabin. Lined up in a row, they took up the entire length of the bed.

There was a small padlock on each case. For most of her marriage, the three keys to these three locks were the only keys she had. Mr. Gold hadn’t trusted her to come and go in his house or his shop or his car. But he had allowed her to own these. The care and keeping of their toys was her responsibility.

Now there was a layer of dust on the leather. Mrs. Gold wiped a streak off with her hand, then wiped her hand on her beige suede skirt. The dust blended in perfectly with her ugly, colorless clothes. Her ugly, colorless self.

Grunting with effort, Lacey hoisted the cases up onto the bed. Clouds of dust billowed up and fell onto Mr. Gold’s coverlet but she didn’t care. Let the bastard breathe in the disuse, let him choke on it.

One by one, she unlocked the cases. It was easier than she would have thought, after so long. But she knew the turn of these keys like she knew her own body. The motion was fluid and smooth. Even after all this time, the click of these locks opening up sent a tingle up her spine.

It had been a ritual, once, that always began with the opening of these locks. Sometimes Mr. Gold would tell her exactly what she should bring to him. Sometimes he gave her more freedom--she could pick out a selection of what she wanted or what she thought she could handle, and then he would choose which option suited him best. Sometimes he ordered her to open the cases and wait, kneeling on the floor in an empty room. He would decide what to do with her, and she would have to take it without complaint.

Though the outside of the cases was dusty, the black velvet lining was still pristine. The contents inside were as beautiful as ever. She used to spend hours taking care of these things. Polishing the inlaid wooden paddles, rubbing the leather restraints with saddle soap, making sure the metal chains always gleamed like new. It was all high-quality, the best money could buy, so much better than a cheap slut like her deserved.

Every item had a home, and they were all laid out, neat as the jewelry cases in Mr. Gold’s shop. The dildos and butt plugs were lined up according to size, with length taking priority over girth. Coiled ropes were likewise organized by thickness and weight and how much they could hurt her. The jewel tone colors of glass and metal and silicone stood out from the black velvet, lurid and enticing.

Lacey’s fingers grazed gently over the candles and the ball gags, the collars he put her in when he wanted to feel especially owned. Clamps that used to pinch her sensitive spots, with small, polished weights that added to the pain. Mrs. Gold had taken so much pride in these things and what they could do to her. What Mr. Gold could do to her.

The final case was more of a catch-all, where she stored the condoms and lube and massage oils. Rubber gloves, because Mr. Gold was particular about how dirty he got his hands. And the first aid kit, for when that was necessary. Rope-cutting shears, burn cream, sterile bandages and antiseptic. Everything in the last case was the sort of thing she liked to buy at the drug store all at once, to make it obvious what they were getting up to on any given day.

She had always bought more than they would ever use. That was part of the game, part of letting people wonder if they were really seeing what she was showing them. Even when Mr. Gold was fucking her three times a day, she bought enough supplies to make it look like it was ten times a day. The two of them were sex gods--or sex demons--and they wanted the whole Goddamned town to know it.

That was why she had bought the stuff in her hands now. She’d wanted it to look like things were normal. She’d wanted to feel normal, to pretend for just a few Goddamned minutes that the whole of her reality wasn’t ripping apart at the seams.

So she’d bought a box of condoms that she thought would never be opened. She’d bought a tube of KY jelly she thought would never be used. For the sake of… what? Nostalgia? Keeping up appearances? Hope?

Had she really hoped that they would ever use these things again?

Lacey let out a muted shriek, a pathetic mewl of rage. It was as much noise as she could make. In a blur of motion, she spun on her heel so she wouldn’t have to look at the cases.

But everywhere she looked there was a memory. Her and her husband, using these toys, experimenting with her body, testing her limits all over this room. They’d loved it. Even if they hadn’t loved each other, they’d loved sex. They’d loved playing games together, blurring the lines between pleasure and pain, between humiliation and adoration. He loved owning her, and she loved being owned.

All of that was gone now.

“What’s the point?” she whispered.

She’d been trying, ever since their anniversary. She’d been trying to be more than just his sex toy. She’d thought that she could be someone else, more than just Mrs. Gold. She’d thought that allowing herself to care about her family again would help.

But she couldn’t be just Lacey French anymore either. It was good to be able to talk to her dad and her friends again, but they weren’t her husband. They had no place in her sex life. She couldn’t even talk to them about the kinds of things that got her off! Platonic and familial ties were not the same as the sheer eroticism that had once defined her marriage.

Had once defined her.

Why did it still hurt? It had been months since Mr. Gold had wanted her. Why did it feel worse, now that she knew exactly who he wanted instead? A man. That was his "Belle." A gorgeous, trim, bad boy in expensive clothes. Honestly, it made sense. Of course there was no woman in Storybrooke named Belle. That was just a nickname Mr. Gold had given to him.

It didn’t surprise her that Mr. Gold was with a man. She knew him too well to be shocked by that. Though they’d never actually gotten anyone else to play with them, he had prepared her for an encounter with anyone of any gender. He felt the same way about men that she felt about women: Beauty was beauty. Pleasure was pleasure. Sex was sex.

I love you, Belle.

And love, apparently, was love.

Lacey dumped the contents of the bag from the drugstore into the third case. If Mr. Gold wanted to use this shit on his Belle, he was welcome to it, he had keys just like she did. She zipped the cases closed and fastened the padlocks. It wasn’t until she began hoisting them off the bed and onto the floor that an idea finally snapped into place:

Fuck him.

She squeezed her palm around the leather handle of the first case and considered the thought for a moment.

Fuck him.

Screw him, Janine had said, the first time she’d told her about Belle. That man is cheating on you and you don’t even get the satisfaction of walking away?

When she’d had that conversation with her cousin, Lacey hadn’t been ready to leave Mr. Gold. Even now she wasn’t ready to walk out. How could she? She didn’t have a job or enough money to live off of. Things may be easier with her father, but she had no intention of moving back into her childhood bedroom or working at the flower shop without pay.

The most independence she had been able to exert was moving her things across the hall to the guest room. It had felt like an exile, a self-imposed banishment. But maybe she could make that room feel a bit more like home.

She took a breath. It felt like the first full breath she’d taken since October. Carefully, one by one, she wheeled the leather cases full of sex toys out of Mr. Gold’s room. They didn’t fit as well under the bed in the guest room--she had to push them snugly under the metal frame. It would be hard to get to them in a hurry. But they were there. They were hers.

Mr. Gold had nurtured her appetites, but he hadn’t created them. He didn’t own them. Lacey had always been a girl with a healthy imagination. The fact that she used to read every book she could get her hands on--including romances novels that were not age-appropriate--only added more fuel to her burning inner fire.

He had expanded her horizons, he had given a form to her yearnings; but she had been looking for an adventure for as long as she could remember. Sex with him had been everything she’d ever imagined. Everything they’d ever done together was something she’d thought about doing when she was just a curious young woman, alone at night in a twin bed above the flower shop.

She’d wanted sex before Mr. Gold. She could want sex after him.

In the early morning, with the lights off, the bedroom was a murky gray. Lacey pulled down the blinds and drew the curtains to make it even darker. Her heart was already racing, just from thinking about what she was going to do. Down in the kitchen, her pulse had pounded with the fire of anger, but now she was filling up with a sweeter, darker heat.

She stepped out of her heels and began to unbutton her blouse. She unzipped the skirt that was the color of dust, of disappointment, and rolled down her opaque brown tights. She didn’t look in the mirror until she was naked.

Stripped bare, except for her wedding ring. She couldn't take that off yet.

It was impossible to judge her body when it was like this. Without clothes, without a costume, she felt like she had no identity at all. She didn’t even have the marks and bruises that Mr. Gold used to brand her with. She looked like a naked Barbie doll in the bottom of a toy chest.

Lacey had grown up knowing she was pretty, and not caring much. She had never watched her weight, like Mara, or worried about getting zits like Janine. She was lucky to fit the mold set by other girls at Storybrooke High. She’d looked enough like the models in magazines that it didn’t matter that she’d never be able to dress like them.

After she married Mr. Gold, his opinion had become the only one that would ever matter. Her body became a mannequin that he could dress and pose as he saw fit. Sometimes he told her she was beautiful, though it was just as likely to be an insult. A pretty face with nothing behind it, just how I like my women.

Was that how he liked his men? Was that what Belle was like?

Scowling, Lacey put her hand to her breast and squeezed until it hurt. When she took her hand away, she saw the pink marks on her pale skin.

That felt better. She breathed.

Still looking at her face in the mirror, Lacey cupped her cheek with her palm. Slowly, she dragged her hand down over her jaw. Two of her fingers caught against her lower lip, pulling down at the red inner flesh. She breathed.

Her hand rested over her throat. Ever so slightly, she pushed in, until she could feel the pressure, until she could feel her heartbeat against her fingertips. It was almost as good as a collar. Almost as good as Mr. Gold’s firm grip around her neck.

Back to her breasts, but gently this time. She was allowed to enjoy her body. She was allowed to awaken her senses. She stretched her arms up over her head, then brought them back down to her torso. Whenever Mr. Gold decided she had earned some pleasure, he would permit her to touch herself like this. Slow. Deliberate. Savoring herself. He liked it, sometimes. He liked to watch her. He liked it when she prepared herself for him.

Of course, Mr. Gold never allowed her to make herself come.

She gave herself a final look in the mirror. There was a soft blush in her cheeks, and her pupils were wide. She licked her lips and got into bed.

The sheets were cool against her flushed skin. At first, she stretched out like a starfish, arms and legs spread wide. Then, she slowly brought her hands back to her body.

With one hand on her diaphragm, she felt herself breathe. In, and then out. A peaceful, natural rhythm. Lacey had read a story about tantric sex once, about how it started with breathing together with your partner, that breath represented the sacred give-and-take between two people. Mr. Gold had no patience for that kind of thing. His version of give-and-take always ended in him taking more than he would ever give.

He’s not here now. A woman's voice murmured in the depths of Lacey’s head. This is about you, sweetheart. What do you want?

“I want…” she whispered. Her teeth chattered as her hand crept lower down her belly. “I want…”

She let herself relax. She closed her eyes, let her weight sink into the mattress. She let her mind drift off wherever it wanted to.

Using her other hand, she rolled her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. This hurt too, but it was a gentler pain than when she’d left the marks. It was a soft burn, that resonated with the growing warmth between her legs.

“You like pain, dearie.” This voice was different than the first one. It was a man’s voice, high and mocking. She liked it. “Pain makes you wet!”

The man’s voice was right. When she slid her palm over the short hairs on her pubic mound--she hadn’t shaved in weeks--and dipped her fingers between her lips, she was coated in a sticky layer of warm fluid.

“Good girl.” Now his voice is low and rumbling. “I knew you could make yourself wet for me.”

“Rumple,” Lacey whispered. She didn’t know why she said that. She only knew it felt right.

“Rumple!” Her voice is a high, keening whine. Her husband has kept her teasing herself for hours now. He has enchanted her to be unable to bring herself to completion no matter how hard she tries--and she has been trying very hard. “Rumple, please…”

“Please…” She covered her pubic area with the flat of her hand and slowly began to curl her fingers.

“Please what, dearie?” Her husband chirps. They are in the dining room of their castle. He walks a spirited dance around her, while she has her legs and back bound to the stone wall. He is fully dressed and she is naked, just like old times. The only difference is that she isn’t wearing her cuffs. Instead, both of them have their golden rings.

“Please let me, Rumple,” Lacey begged to no one.

He makes a noise, a play-mournful tut. “Is something troubling you, little thing? Do you have an itch that you cannot scratch? A desire you cannot assuage?”

“Yes!” she gasps. Her hips rock against her wrist. Her hand is buried in her secret places, but her efforts only stoke the fire without easing it.

Pretending to be thoughtful, he taps his finger against his lips. “I don’t think you’re wet enough,” he says. Apparently he is deaf to the rhythmic sloshing noise coming from between her legs. “No, not nearly as wet as I know you can be, my sweet slut. Not wet enough for the Dark One’s whore!”

Lacey’s back arched at those words. She felt her cunt quiver under her fingertips. Her breath was coming faster now.

His breath is hot and cruel against her ear. He holds up a riding crop for her to see. “Are you ready for me to make you wetter, my thing?”

“Oh!” she moans. But she knows that isn’t an answer. He won’t do anything until she gives him an answer. “Yes,” she cries. “Yes, please!”

The crop comes down against the outside of her thigh. Behind her closed eyes she sees it as a lightning flash in brilliant red. The burning pain piles on to her lust, pushes her to yet another peak.

“Oh,” Lacey groaned. With her free hand she rubbed at her outer thigh. Could she feel the burning from her fantasy? Or was it just her fevered imagination?

Again and again he strikes her. The pain courses through her body and sends her mind to that place of sublime safety and peace. He knows what he is doing to her, and they both love it. This is what it means to be owned: To know that he knows her so well, that he wants only what she wants, even the things it would shock another man to give her. She rests in that certainty. She lets herself go.

“Please,” Lacey said again. Her orgasm rose up in her belly. God, her first orgasm in six months. The first one she’d taken without permission in as long as she could remember. She stayed in the fantasy. “Please, Rumple, will you tell me I can come?”

The moment where her husband doesn’t speak is interminable, unendurable. If it weren’t for the enchantment, she would have already come a dozen times. She wouldn’t have been able to stop herself. His eyes lock onto hers, black and gold and beautiful. His mouth opens, his pink tongue darts over his gray-green lips. When he speaks, his voice is low and natural, sincere.

He sounds just like Mr. Gold.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he breathes.

It was like a firework went off in her body. A thousand fireworks. The whole Goddamned Fourth of July happening within a single instant. Lacey shook and moaned and clamped down on her own hand. Over and over, she clenched and released. She pushed herself to peak after peak, while she imagined the cackling demon, the monster who loved her and who had helped her find this pleasure.

Limp and boneless, she slides down the wall onto the floor. He is there to catch her, to hold her while she trembles through the aftershocks. They sit together on the ground while he cradles her in his arms.

“You are so good, my darling.” He soothes her with words while she is too wrung-out to speak. “You are the most marvelous creature in the world.”

“Yours,” she whispered to a lover who wasn’t there. Laying on her side, she wrapped the blanket around herself so it felt like his arms. “I’m your creature, Rumple. I love you.”

“And I love you too.” He kisses her, caresses her. He runs his hands through her hair. “Gods, Belle, I love you so much.”

Lacey’s eyes popped open. She sat, bolt upright, in bed.

Fuck. She was going to barf. She was going to implode. This was worse than finding the box of condoms. This was taking a bite out of an apple and finding half a worm.

Fuck!

Grabbing one of her pillows, Lacey flung her face into it and screamed. It was so fucking unfair! Bad enough that this bullshit was in her real life. How the hell had Belle invaded her fantasies too?

“Jesus!” She threw the pillow down and smacked her head into her hands. Her fingers reeked of pussy. She had never hated a smell so much. How fucking unfair, how fucking absurd was it that she couldn’t even masturbate without feeling like a failure?

Her husband would never love her. Even when she dreamed about him, he was crooning over someone else. She had to get him out of her head. He had replaced her a long time ago. She would have to give him up too.

She would have to give herself to someone else.

Moving automatically, she got out of bed and went to the bathroom down the hall. She took a shower--long and hot--and covered herself in layer after layer of soaps and lotions and perfumes. Anything to get rid of the stink of desperation that seeped up from between her legs and clung to her fingers.

Should she shave her cunt as well as her legs and armpits? Yes. Yes, she wanted to be ready for whatever would happen next.

Back in her bedroom--not the guest bedroom, her bedroom, Goddammit!--she pulled out a long-neglected drawer of lingerie sets. Lately, she’d just been grabbing the first pair of panties she could get her hands on, and whatever bra was most comfortable. Whenever Lacey stopped by Sugar’n’Spice, Mara informed her of the joys of sports bras and underwear made of cotton. But she hadn’t been willing to take that step yet. It felt like giving up.

Today she wore a bustier that Mr. Gold had never liked. It was dark, royal purple, trimmed in black lace. Silver hooks fastened it up the front. Lacey had bigger boobs than her tiny frame would indicate, but she was still grateful for the pale mounds of cleavage that this bustier produced once she had it on. She had to dress to impress.

A tiny thong in black lace and purple silk matched the bustier. The space between the end of the bustier and the start of the thong revealed a thin strip of pink flesh. When Lacey pulled the elastic waistband it snapped against her skin and stung. Oh, that felt better.

The more clothes she put on, the more relaxed she felt. This was right. This was normal. Wide-holed fishnet stockings, one of the shortest skirts she had--the black one with an electric blue tulle underskirt. A black blouse that was low cut enough and transparent enough to show off her bustier. Her hair went up in a wild, messy bun. She wore silver jewelry and slut red makeup. The final touch was to slip into her tallest pair of shiny black heels.

It was a lot of dressing up just to go downstairs, but it was the most settled she’d felt in a long time. No longer a naked Barbie, she knew who she was. Even without Mr. Gold, she could still be a walking sex dream. Strutting through the halls of his house, she finally felt worthwhile.

She went to his study, to his desk. She sat in his big leather chair and took out a bottle of his liquor. Johnnie Walker Blue Label. Two hundred dollars a bottle. Lacey’s mind flashed to the first time he had brought her into his study. He had taught her how to pour whiskey and serve it to him in a crystal tumbler. Looking at the liquid in the blue glass bottle, the shifting browns and golds looked like his eyes.

His eyes could be so beautiful…

Shaking her head, Lacey grabbed a tumbler and dumped the whiskey in. She swallowed it down without looking at it and grimaced. Not that the booze was bad--it wasn’t--or that she was inexperienced with liquor--she wasn’t. But this was just a day for grimacing. Any day when you were downing whiskey before noon wasn’t a good day.

But it was going to get better.

All the voices in her head had gone silent since she’d ended the fantasy. Having a drink made things even quieter. For once, it was peaceful inside her mind. For once, she knew what she was doing.

Mr. Gold had a Rolodex on his desk, with the phone numbers for everyone in Storybrooke who owed him a favor. In other words, everyone in Storybrooke. She flipped through the cards until she found the name she was looking for. The person who might be able to help her. Her own personal savior.

The phone number was a direct line. Mr. Gold wouldn’t have bothered writing down anything less. Heart racing, Lacey picked up the big black phone and began to dial.

It picked up on the first ring.

“Gold?” A woman said on the other end.

“No.” Lacey’s voice sounded high-pitched and nervous. Weak. She swallowed. “No, Madame Mayor, it’s me. Mrs. Gold.”

There was a faint exhalation of breath, like someone who had just received an unexpected but lovely surprise. When Mayor Mills spoke, her voice was warm. “Why, Mrs. Gold! How nice to hear from you.”

Lacey bit her lip. This was the right thing to do, she shouldn’t feel nervous. “I, uh, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day. About your offer to talk, to help me.”

“Yes?” It was almost a purr, velvety and rich. “Are you ready to take my help then, dear?”

She twirled the phone cord around her finger. The bustier was making it hard to breathe. “I think so.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for a long time, Mrs. Gold. Why don’t you stop by my office later this evening, so we can have a chat?”

#golden rings #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumbelle fanfic

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sickcyclist · 4 years ago

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This is the story of my day. It actually starts yesterday, when a heaven-sent rain swept in and cleared the smoke and cooled the air and tamped down the dust on the trails. I went on a bike ride because days like that are a gift. I have exercise-induced hypoxemia, which basically means that my oxygen drops when I exercise for reasons that we still don’t understand. Exercising with oxygen helps, but I still drop into the mid-80s. I knew I was too sick to ride and that doing so would make me much more sick, but I needed it for my mind so I was willing to sacrifice my body.

So that’s the first lesson of being sick. Everyone tells you that you have to be active and it will make things better and all you have to do is just push yourself hard enough. We’ve internalized this message to the point that many people believe sick people could get better if they just PUSHED. But that’s not always true. Sometimes pushing makes you worse. Sometimes it makes you much, much worse. And that can be true even if being active and pushing hard is something you love so much that it feels like it’s core to who you are.

I knew I would have to sleep for 12+ hours to make up for the ride, and I knew that I would have bad oxygen saturation stats because of it. And since I don’t have a real job, it should be easy to just take a lazy day (or week, or month) and get better, right? But actually I do have a real job and that job is to keep myself alive. It’s the job of a lot of us who are chronically ill, and it’s not a profession I would recommend. It’s not fun and it’s not rewarding and no one admires you for it and you’re not asked to speak to 5th graders on career day and you rarely get to move on to a newer, more interesting project.

Here’s what this particular day at work looked like for me. I woke up to a voicemail saying that my pulmonology appointment for Friday had been cancelled. I’ve been waiting to see a pulmonologist since March and was supposed to have an appointment weeks ago, but that was cancelled because the doctor quit two days beforehand. The other doctor in town couldn’t see me until the end of October, so I looked for a doctor in a bigger town hundreds of miles away. She comes highly recommended and in a way I’m happy because I strongly prefer female doctors, but for whatever reason she had to “clear her morning.” My new appointment is five weeks from now. I got off the phone and sobbed, which is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work. I probably could have toughed it up and avoided crying if I hadn’t worn myself down so much biking yesterday, but such is life.

I emailed my primary care provider asking for a note saying I could travel with my portable oxygen concentrator. I was supposed to get this letter from my pulmonologist, but now I won’t have a pulmonologist before I travel. The letter has to say that I use oxygen for sleep and activity, but it also has to specify that I won’t use oxygen on the plane. Which is a little funny because airplanes have extremely powerful oxygen-producing systems for emergencies, but they don’t like people who need oxygen because they don’t like the risk that comes with having sick people on board (think emergency landings). So people who need oxygen all the time need their own oxygen concentrator and battery power for the equivalent of 1.5x the time they will be in the air. I’m going on an 8-hour flight and it would cost about $400 to get strong enough batteries for that length. So I need them to let me carry my machine, which has lithium ion batteries that are otherwise prohibited. But in order to carry my machine I need to prove that I won’t be needing it.

I have a great primary care provider. I knew she would write the note. Easy peasy.

My next voicemail was from the specialty pharmacy that my insurance provider uses for certain drugs. I am allergic to a hormone all women produce as part of the menstrual cycle. This allergy is so severe that it has been responsible for 5 miscarriages, and it also means that I’m more miserable than usual for half the month. The good news is that all you have to do to stop it is take out your ovaries, but when you do that you go into full menopause. Which is not desirable because it increases your risk of cancer and osteoporosis and just overall mortality. Like not even from one thing. Just people who go into menopause early die early from all causes and we don’t know why.

That gives you some perspective on what the benefits have to look like in order for the cost-benefit analysis to still auger in favor of ovary removal. But since it is such a serious choice, you have to be sure. And the way you make sure is to stop your ovaries from working with a drug. The drug has hideous short and long term side effects, so if you feel better while taking it, that’s a pretty strong sign that an oophorectomy is the choice for you.

Approval for me to receive this particular drug was in limbo because the provider accidentally entered the wrong diagnosis. I have, as you can imagine, a lot of diagnoses. Entering the wrong diagnosis in this case was particularly funny because I’ve spent the last 6 months fighting with Blue Cross to get an expensive medicine that helps with my allergies. This medicine (Xolair) is approved for chronic urticaria (hives). It is not approved for progesterone hypersensitivity. I have both, which means I itch a lot for two weeks of the month and itch so much that I want to peel my skin off for two weeks of the month. Blue Cross argued that I wanted the drug for progesterone hypersensitivity. No medical provider said that, but it was the diagnosis they could use to deny the drug. Xolair costs $4000 a month. At that price it’s worth it to them to grind people down and hope they give up. It took four appeals and my lawyer (husband) to get the drug approved because I do indeed have chronic urticaria. It’s worked wonders for me, especially being allergic to the sun. You have no idea how easy it is to descend into madness when you are itchy all the time.

I went over all this with my new OB. I explained that, while the allergy shot solved the itching, it didn’t fix any of my systemic problems, which is why I was still interested in removing my ovaries. And because the conversation focused on how this ovary-suppressing drug (Lupron) specifically wasn’t for urticaria, it’s perhaps not surprising that she accidentally listed urticaria as the reason for the prescription. It’s like when you’re afraid you’ll mispronounce someone’s name. You tell yourself, “Say Kee-a, not Ky-a,” so many times that you’re basically guaranteed to call the person Ky-a.

So my ovary medicine was denied, of course, but I contacted my doctor’s office last week explaining the problem and they were very quick to apologize and resubmit. I returned the call from the specialty pharmacy but apparently they had just wanted to let me know that they were sorry for the delay. It was very polite of them but maybe didn’t require a phone call.

Then I got an email from Blue Cross Blue Shield. I logged in to read that coverage had again been denied (no reason stated) and that if I wanted to appeal the decision I would have to appeal through their specialty pharmacy. They gave me the name and number. Of a different specialty pharmacy than the one I had been dealing with for the past month. The one that I had already wrangled account numbers and diagnosis codes and special customer service phone lines out of. I typed up a polite response inquiring why I need to change pharmacies. And then I cried, but only just a little this time.

Then I called Walgreen’s because my medication for muscle spasms had been delayed and I received a note saying the pharmacist needed to speak to me. I am hypermobile so my connective tissue is just a little too bendy. My joints slip in and out all the time and my muscles have to overwork to hold my body together. Frequently they overwork so much that they lock up. This happens much more frequently in the progesterone-dominant phase of my cycle. Physical therapy is the best treatment, but sometimes I need muscles relaxants before I can even start physical therapy.

The man I spoke to at Walgreen’s told me I didn’t have a prescription for that drug. Then he told me I had a prescription but it had expired in March of 2020. I knew that wasn’t true because I hadn’t used it for years but had to start again when I got COVID. So I had no prescription in March of 2020 but I definitely did in March of 2021. No big deal. Just a simple computer error. Totally understandable in a pandemic, and I knew my doctor would refill it anyway. But he apparently felt that it was a big deal and wouldn’t submit the refill to my provider. I have no idea why. Maybe he thought I was engaged in drug-seeking behavior. Or maybe he was having a bad day. But he wouldn’t submit the refill. I hung up the phone and screamed. Loudly. Which really is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work.

Murry came up and rubbed the spasm out of my shoulder and listened to me vent and offered to be my medical power of attorney so he could deal with these people for me. But he’s the one with the real job that earns real money and when I’m sick he also cooks and cleans and does the shopping and walks the dogs. I may not be any good at the shitty job I had, but there’s no way I’m going to make him do it.

I switched tactics and chatted with someone through the Walgreen’s app. He was lovely and had no problem submitting my prescription for a refill. Easy peasy.

My final task for the day was calling to find out about the status of my CPAP prescription. I don’t have sleep apnea but while I’m asleep my breathing does slow down significantly enough that my oxygen drops (hypopnea). I need a special CPAP that adjust the pressure to my breathing, but it will get me off of oxygen at night. I’m very excited for it.

My insurance does not require prior authorization for CPAP prescriptions. However, St. Pete’s has its own prior authorization department that I guess makes sure you are not lying about not needing prior authorization? This department is, apparently, understaffed. I called my oxygen “rep” to find out how it was going. She very kindly bypassed the prior authorization department and called Blue Cross directly. Blue Cross informed her, as had I, that a prior authorization was not necessary. She could officially get me a CPAP.

Except that there is a national CPAP shortage. So she will try her best to get me one as soon as they get more. Hopefully this month. Even the rare, wonderful people who try to help you are sometimes as helpless as you.

I didn’t cry this time. Crying doesn’t fix anything and I can’t risk losing more oxygen. So I turned to writing therapy instead.

This was a bad day at work, but there are rarely good ones. It sucks to be sick, but I’m smart, articulate, overly educated, wealthy, and white. It could suck so, so much more. Someday I’ll turn all of this knowledge that I never wanted into something that helps people other than myself. Until then maybe someone will read this and know they are not alone. If being sick is your job, I see you. I would give you a hug—or a bonus!—if I could.

#lupus #chronic illness #hypermobility #connective tissue disease #exercise hypoxemia #progesterone hypersensitivity #health care efficiency #health insurance navigation #immunocompromised #biking with oxygen #care coorination

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bardsingingasong · 4 years ago

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5+1 Chances to scare you

TITLE: 5+1 chances to scare you | Read on AO3

AUTHOR: Bardsingingasong | MarysseLalonde

RELATIONSHIPS: Kyle Rayner/Jason Todd

SUMMARY: Jason never scares, or that's what he says. Kyle is determined to prove the opposite.

There're 5 times tat Kyle tries to scare his boyfriend and 1 when he gets it, more or less.

WORD COUNT: 3,677

BOOKS/NETFLIX/2002 SHOW/VIDEO GAME: Batman-All Media Types, Green Lantern- All Media Types

TRIGGERS/WARNINGS: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning.

RATING: G

ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Happy Halloween!

Yeah, I know Halloween is already past, but never is too late to celebrate it!

I'm very glad to contribute to this fandom and this precious ship. I hope you enjoy these idiots in love.

As usual, I want to thank my beta, TanisVs, for her work. You're the best girl, and I love you so much!!

Friendly reminder: English isn't my first language. I'm trying to improve my English, but I have a lot of work to do. Please if you wish to comment, first of all, thank you, and least be polite, I'm doing my best.

Enjoy!

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"As if you could scare me.”

Kyle frowned, and raised his head from Jason's shoulder to look at him. It was late at night. The patrol was over, and Kyle was back on Earth for the next month. They had decided to watch a movie, specifically a horror movie.

Growing up in Gotham and being trained by Batman had made Jason think that he was immune to fear. He liked to pretend he couldn't feel that emotion in particular, but Kyle knew it best. After all, the White Lantern was linked to the emotional spectrum.

"As if you were never afraid,” Kyle bit back. "Everyone feels fear sooner or later.”

"Yes, but it didn't mean you can scare me."

Kyle moved away from Jason, leaning on the sofa to look at him. Jason had that smile of his, which means he was fooling around with Kyle.

"I will," His voice tone was firm. "I know you, I could scare you in one way or another."

Jason stared at him, his smile growing bigger while his fingers held Kyle's chin.

"Sounds like a dare." He sounded playful and sensual. He was using the tone that he knew it drove Kyle mad. He was trying to distract him. Jason probably was bored with the movie, and he was in the mood to play.

And Kyle hated taking the bait so quickly.

"Maybe it is." Kyle was digging his own grave, but he never refused a challenge no matter how absurd it was.

"I would like to see you try."

In a second, Kyle was astride Jason's lap, devouring his mouth.

"It's a dare?" Jason asked between kisses.

"Will you take it?" Jason pulled him and pressed him against his body. His hips were raised, telling Kyle what he was thinking all the time during the movie. That was a little disturbing, but Kyle could understand that it was a time since he was on Earth.

"Maybe later, when I'm not busy".

There were no more words after that. The movie continued playing in the background, but sooner rather than later, their screams of pleasure ended up covering the scare screams from the film.

Later, when they were resting at Jason's bed, Kyle began to think of his plan attack.

“You know, I think we have a ghost in the apartment.”

Jason gave him an incredulous look. He was throw away over the sofa, watching a movie with a large popcorn bowl. Kyle should have joined him, but he had claimed how much he wanted to paint.

"And you think that because... ?"

Kyle stared at him. He usually didn't care how Jason looked like an idiot from time to time, but sometimes he wished his boyfriend would take him seriously. If Jason wanted a reason, he would have one.

"Because I was working on my canvas when some of your books fell from the bookshelf."

“Are you sure it wasn't you who has made them fall?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "I'm sure, because your stupid Jane Austen's books are floating everywhere, and I can't do that without my ring."

Red Hood grumbled. He left the bowl on the sofa and paused the movie before he got up. He didn’t seem not much convinced but went to the bedroom anyway. Kyle followed him. The two of them stopped in their tracks at the doorway. The room was uncoordinated, with all Kyle's paints over the bed and the floor. An easel was in front of the windows and on it the unfinished canvas. The scene could be normal, but there were some open books, floating mid-air. The books moved like someone was making them levitate. Maybe for the inexperienced eye they could look more real, but Jason wasn't a beginner. A single look was enough to know what happened there.

"If you make a single scratch on my books, it'll not matter how much I love you, you'll sleep in the streets for the rest of your Earth's days off." Jason said. He turned around and started to walk to the living room. "Put them back on the bookshelf, Rayner.”

The Lantern looked at him and back to the room.

"Aw c'mon, man! Are you serious?!" He ran after him. Jason was again on the sofa with the movie playing and the popcorn bowl on his lap. "You didn't doubt for a second."

"Who do you think I am, Ky?" He threw up a popcorn and ate it in flight. "I work with the big bat, your childish tricks could never fool me."

Kyle sighed loudly. He dropped on the couch, next to Jason, resting his head on the backrest. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jason's mocking smile. Acting like a child, the White Lantern set the bowl aside and lay down on Jason's lap, crossing his arms with a pout on his face. Immediately, Jason caressed his hair.

Almost all the time, those gestures made Kyle doubt how people could think Jason was anything but a loving person. He knew how brutal and lethal Jason could be, but it was always for a reason... most of the time. The ex-Robin was very protective of the people he loved, and his love was not easy to earn but if you got it, it would last forever.

In Kyle's opinion, the man had suffered enough to let him be imperfect. Maybe Red Hood didn't comply with Batman's code, but he was efficient, and the same hands that could skew a life they also could be affectionate.

"Just for curiosity.” Kyle said. "What gave me away?"

"Many things. Your canvas was dry, and I could see the fishing line a mile away". Jason's voice was flat, even bored, but Kyle knew him for years and he could hear a tiny, tiny, note of fun on his tone. "You'll need to be more convincing if you want to scare me, Lantern."

Kyle snorted, giving Jason a bite in his thigh. Scare Jason Todd would be more difficult than he had thought in the first place.

"OH MY GOD! JASON!"

Kyle's scream surprised him in the shower. Normally he would have ignored the Lantern while showering, but this time something sounded wrong in Kyle's voice. Jason turned off the tap and wrapped himself with a towel. If it was a joke, he would ensure that his boyfriend would have a punishment.

Jason walked towards the kitchen, leaving a trail of water behind him. He would clean it up later, when he was sure Kyle hadn't been hurt by any nonsense. If anyone could do something so stupid and end up hurting himself, it was Kyle (and Dick too, but that was another matter). Sometimes Jason would try to explain to himself how Kyle could survive in space and be part of a group like the Lantern Corps as clumsy as he was.

"It may already be import… ant."

Jason fell silent as he entered the kitchen. Kyle was standing by the counter, with a rolled-up cloth tightly covering his hand. The cloth was completely stained red, and was dripping profusely. The cutting board and the knife with which he must have been working until then were equally stained with red. At first glance, it would appear that Kyle had cut himself. Very much so. To be honest, Jason would say that was the best performance the White Lantern could do. He was even crying! He could have fooled anyone, but not Jason. Definitely not Jason, who could distinguish fake blood from the real one with his eyes closed.

Red Hood saved the prank in his mind, he would ensure that Kyle will do it again with the Outlaws. Roy's face would be epic. But for now, he stayed near the door, looking at Kyle with his arms crossed.

"That's the best you can do?" Jason's tone had no emotion, but he arched one eyebrow, revealing his amusement. Jason had left his warm shower to suffer another pitiful try from his boyfriend to scare him. He'll make Kyle paid for it later. For the moment, Jason would be satisfied with dismantling his joke. "I don't know what have you used as fake blood, but it is more liquid than real blood. Nice whack, Lantern."

"In your defense I would say that it could have been quite convincing for someone with no experience. Play the joke on Jordan or Gardner, they'll fall for it."

"What about John?"

"Steward is the smart one in your little gang. He probably won't believe it."

"Does that mean I'm an idiot too?"

Jason didn't answer. He smiled and said:

"You're going to clean up this mess and make dinner while I finish showering, got it?"

Kyle pouted but smiled after. Scare Jason was his challenge, and it would be more fun than the second Robin had thought.

"Okay, this time it has to be the final one." Kyle took the final look at his latest work: a tall ghostly figure hanging in the middle of his studio. The smell of fresh paint still hung in the air, as the last layer had not yet dried.

The first two attempts had been a total fiasco, but this time Kyle thought he could make it. He had been working tirelessly for days to finish the puppet of the ghost, covered with layers and layers of fluorescent paint that gave it a rather spooky realism.

That night, none of them would be home. Jason had patrol with the rest of the bats, and Kyle would spend the day working as a team with other Earth Lanterns. That meant the Lanterns had an excuse to drink together, and for Kyle it meant he had an alibi when his prank exploded in Jason's face.

"Okay, Kyle, you can do this."

Kyle had left home early, having left a light construction as an alarm to know when Jason was leaving. So he had come back and set the trap, placing it where Jason didn't expect to find it.

When he returned with the rest of the torches, they bombarded him with questions. Hal and Guy laughed outrageously, while John and Simon looked at him with some disapproval. On the other hand, Jessica smiled at him and gave him new ideas in case the prank didn't work.

Time passed quickly between laughs and drinks, and by the time Kyle returned home, he had forgotten his own trap.

"I'm home," he said, opening the front door.

Jason's muffled voice received him. He wasn't in sight, so Kyle thought he was probably in the bathroom. Exhausted and a little drunk, Kyle went to the bedroom to change his clothes, thinking of making a light dinner for him and his boyfriend later. Suddenly, a tall, shiny figure pounced on him. Kyle, lost in thought, had no time to turn away completely and let out a cry of surprise. The figure collapsed after hitting him, and broke into pieces on the floor.

Kyle stood extremely still, totally taken by surprise, and watched what was left of his joke that he had been working on for a whole week. His drunkenness disappeared suddenly, with the loud sound of his heart beating in his ears. Obviously, Jason hadn't fallen into her trap, but he had.

How ironic, a victim of his own plans.

"What's broken?" Jason asked, poking his head out the door.

"My dignity..."

Jason was curious, but didn't push for Kyle to tell him what had happened. Kyle looked, and was, very embarrassed, with a strong blush on his cheeks. He just cleaned up the broken pieces of the ghost without saying a word.

Later, when Kyle checked the security cameras, Jason's laughter echoed throughout. And the next day, when he woke up, the icon of an unread message was blinking on his phone. When he opened it, he found a laconic:

<Jason: 3, Kyle: 0>

Sometimes he really hated his boyfriend.

Kyle started to get discouraged. He already had three failures in his mission to scare Jason. Perhaps it was impossible, after all, Jason had been through too many traumatic experiences since he was a child to be afraid of mundane things like ghosts, blood and floating books. Kyle thought about googling. He knew that Gotham had a website where people explained and taught how to make those kinds of scary jokes and traps, not just for Halloween but in case someone wanted to make them at any time of the year. Kyle thought it was a bit disturbing. Some of the jokes were funny, but others also made him think that most people in Gotham needed to go to therapy.

"How do you make a fake cut head? And then they say this city has the highest crime rate in the country. I wonder why."

Kyle decided to try one and ended up watching all the available tutorials. They were really creepy and unpleasant, although Jason probably wasn't afraid of them either.

"But I don't lose anything by trying..."

What Kyle hadn't counted on was having to watch people hide their fake heads in the fridge. That made him feel a lot worse than knowing that he probably couldn't scare his boyfriend, because... Well, the thought of Alex had never stopped hurting him. He had learned to deal with it over time, it was true, but... No, if he was going to play that prank on Jason, he couldn't, shouldn't, even think about going near the fridge with something that simulated a human body part.

The choice of model was quite easy. He couldn't risk anyone going off the rails, so he couldn't choose anyone from Jason's immediate environment. No Waynes, no Alfred, no Outlaws, no Titans in general. So he had to use someone just as willing as he was to play those kinds of jokes. Guy Gardner was always the best choice if you were looking for a partner in crime. Kyle only needed to tell him his plan so Guy would sign up without hesitation.

Now, a large jar was on the kitchen table, and inside was a picture of Guy's head.

"I'm home!" Jason announced from the front door.

Kyle looked up from the picture he was working on and took a look at the jar. He smelled the Chinese food, Jason had brought dinner. "Kyle?"

"Here." Kyle forced himself to stay focused on his work.

Jason walked over to the couch, left a kiss on Kyle's head and went into the kitchen. Kyle needed all his willpower not to look at his reaction. But to his disappointment, Jason pretended that nothing was out of place.

"Okay, I admit I almost believed it this time," he said, calmly. Kyle put the notebook aside and looked at his boyfriend. Jason was taking out the Chinese food boxes, placing them on the counter near Guy's fake head. "Gardner is a pain in the ass, I wouldn't be surprised if one day you decided to give him his due.”

"Don't say that." Kyle leaned against the sofa, watching Jason put the food on the plates. "You should get along better with him, he's my best friend and you're my boyfriend. You get along so badly because you look so much alike."

"Even more so.” When Jason left the dishes on the table, he approached Kyle and leaned in to kiss him properly. "Anyway, it's pretty well done. Can I put it on the shelf?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. Another failed plan.

"Whatever you want. Just don't put it in the bedroom, I don't want to see my friend's head while we're having sex."

Everything had failed. Kyle had no ideas anymore, no real strength, to try and scare Jason. His boyfriend was like an iceberg, nothing seemed to scare him, and the most he could do was make him laugh at his pathetic jokes.

"Just jump after him and say 'BOH!'" Dick had said last night, when they were having dinner with Jason's brothers.

Dick's suggestion was absurd. If Jason wasn't scared of anything, he definitely wouldn't do it because of a jump scare. But in for a penny, in for a pound, he thought.

Kyle came closer to the couch, where Jason was having a nap, using his ring to float and make less noise possible. But he was distracted by the thought that he might give Jason a heart attack, until he suddenly realized that his boyfriend had opened his eyes and was staring at him. Kyle flinched.

"Tell me you're not doing what Dick told you to do." Jason said. His voice sounded sleepy and resigned.

"No?" Kyle replied. Jason raised an eyebrow, skeptical, and Kyle felt his cheeks burning. "Okay, okay! I'm out of ideas."

"Do you want one? Admit your defeat, and come here with me."

That was the last attempt and the last defeat, so Kyle decided to be content, rather than reward himself, by curling up in Jason's arms and abandoning himself to pampering.

It had to be a nightmare.

Jason searched Kyle's body, frantic and agitated, desperate to find signs of life. He held the lantern in his arms, his head tilted unnaturally, and his eyes closed.

"Please wake up, Kyle, please, please." Jason whispered.

"Jay..." He heard Roy, who put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly in a gesture intended to be comforting.

The other Lanterns of the Earth landed in front of him. Jason didn't need to look at them to know how they felt. He could hear Jessica's grasp, and he was pretty sure that sound was Gardner hitting something.

That couldn't be happening.

"Jason."

Jason ignored that voice, more focused on stroking Kyle's cheek. His skin was cold, and it shouldn't be. Kyle hated the cold, he always wrapped himself in a lot of blankets when he was in Jason's flat.

"Jason." The same voice called him again.

This time, a firm hand grabbed his arm. Red Hood looked up and met Hal Jordan, the man who had once argued with Batman about how Jason was fucking his beautiful little brother.

"Let it be." Jordan said.

Jason frowned.

"I'm not going to leave him! He's hurt, he needs help!" Red Hood replied, angry.

Jason saw compassion in Jordan's eyes, and he hated him. Why did he feel sorry for him instead of helping Kyle? No one around him was moving a finger, what was wrong with them?

"Jason, he's gone." Roy said.

"He's right here."

"Kyle's dead, Jason." Batman's voice echoed in his head.

"Poor little broken Robin. Did you lose something?" He knew that voice. It was the Joker, chasing him wherever he went. "Maybe if he hadn't been near you, he'd still be alive."

His singing voice made Jason feel sick. Batman was right, Kyle was dead. And the clown was also right, if he had been more attentive, maybe, maybe Kyle wouldn't have had to intervene and...

Kyle was dead because of him.

"Jason."

Someone was calling him, but Jason ignored him. I had to help Kyle, I had to do something. He felt a pang of horrible guilt crushing him to the ground.

"Jason."

The voice was loud. He knew it. It was sweet and quiet, like Kyle's voice when he convinced him to stay home on a rainy day, and drink hot chocolate until they couldn't take it anymore. He felt a wave of affection. That had been a good time.

"Jason, please wake up."

Jason opened his eyes. He could feel his heart beating strongly against his ears.

"Come on, honey, breathe. It was a nightmare."

Jason closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled, trying to do it as slowly as possible. When he became aware of his surroundings, he felt someone beside him. A hand was tracing soft circles on his chest, making him feel much more comfortable and calm. A calm voice spoke intelligible words of comfort.

When Jason finally opened his eyes and got used to the twilight, he saw Kyle next to him. He looked very worried, but was smiling softly, surely relieved that Jason had finally calmed down.

"Hey." Jason mumbled.

"Hey." Kyle replied. "Are you okay?"

"I'm feeling better." It was going to take Jason a while to recover, but he would work on it.

"It was just a nightmare." Kyle repeated, still anguished.

Yes, it had been a nightmare, but it wasn't just that, Jason wanted to say.

All of Jason's nightmares were hard.

Sometimes the dream was about his own death, other times it was about the death of his loved ones. None of them were better than the other, all of them made Jason feel like a wreck for a while.

"You were dead in my arms," he whispered.

Kyle bit his lip. He felt many emotions bubbling up inside Jason, but (sadly) fear was the predominant one. Kyle curled up on his side, resting his head on Jason's chest. Jason moved to put his arm around Kyle, keeping him close to him.

"I know he was trying to scare you, but that's not how he wanted to do it. Kyle felt Jason's laughter under his cheek as he pressed him a little closer to his body.

"I'll give you that." He said. "But I prefer all the other times, they were much more fun than... this."

They were silent for a while. Kyle began to feel sleepy, although he knew Jason wouldn't fall asleep, at least for the rest of the night. Then... he heard him.

"I love you."

Kyle smiled, barely surprised, but delighted. He felt it, he felt his love overcoming his fear at full speed.

"I know."

Jason mumbled, with a snort.

"Don't quote Star Wars, nerd."

They burst out laughing almost at once. In the end, Jason had gotten scared, though in the way Kyle would have wanted. It didn't matter though, they were together, they loved each other.

And that was the most important thing.

#jaykyle #kylejay #jason todd #kyle rayner #red hood #green lantern #white lantern #DC comics #batman #my fanfiction #link to ao3

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is0gild · 4 years ago

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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 20

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 10,096

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Turns out once you've smooched a guy on the nose, things like holding his hand and other such minor displays of affection no longer seem so daunting.

Sure, even as I reached for his hand now, some small amount of mental self-cheerleading was still required in order to work myself up to it. And okay, the tiny flutter in my chest when my fingers brushed against his almost had me pulling back faster than you could say 'emotion-phobia.' But I didn't. And hey, this was way more than I could have brought myself to do even just a few short days ago. This was kind of huge for me, so I think I'd earned the right to take a little pride in my headway so far. Who knew, I just might pull off my half of this whole pretend dating deal yet.

Lea glanced down at my touch. Then he grinned, pulling my hand up to press a soft kiss to the back of it before setting it back down on the dinner table, his thumb trailing light circles along my knuckles. Picking right back up where he'd left off in the conversation, he said, "Oh yeah, GUMMI ships got all sorts of badass tech going on now, the likes of which would put both Star Trek and Star Wars to shame. Super, ultra, mega-laser cannons, impenetrable force fields, swarms of nanobots that can repair any and all damage just like that," he snapped his fingers. Lea then planted an elbow on the table and leaned forward to add in a conspiratorial whisper, "They even have defense systems in the form of giant, exploding space duckies."

Saïx gave him a flat look from where he sat on the other side of the table from us. "Not true."

"Sure it is!" Lea chirped, straightening back up in his chair. "I mean, how else are they gonna fight all those aliens out there?"

Propping my cheek in my free palm, I cocked an eyebrow at him as I felt an upward tug at one corner of my lips. "Aliens? As in little green men?"

"No, no, that'd just be silly," he waved off with a scoff. "As in lil shadow men. Creepy bastards with big, yellow eyes and twitchy antennae." Still holding my hand, he brought both of his own up to either side of his head, miming said antennae with his index fingers.

Closing his eyes, Saïx gave a low sigh into his wine glass. "Also not true."

Lea shrugged, "Oh sure, they're not all like that. There was that blue one they found over in Hawaii, what was its code name again… Experiment 626? Yeah, the government got that one covered up real fast. And don't even get me started on the total dreadnought that is Schwarzgeist lurking out there somewhere in the night sky that absolutely obliterated the USS Endymion."

"The sheer amount of not true you are spouting off right now is positively staggering," Saïx deadpanned, eyelids drooping as he dabbed his napkin to his mouth. "You really need to stop staying up late every night reading all those conspiracy theories out there on the internet."

Lips curling into an evil smirk, Lea said, "But how else am I gonna royally piss you off so much?"

That earned him a small scowl from his brother.

This was basically it. The whole evening in a nutshell from the moment I'd stepped foot into Lea's apartment. Like me, it seemed that Saïx was not much of a talker, at least not amongst strangers. Unlike me however, it appeared to have less to do with social anxiety and more like he just plain wasn't a fan of the whole talking thing and so only did it when he deemed it absolutely necessary. Which I could totally respect. It was just that between the two of us, it had a tendency to leave a bit of a void in the conversation every now and then. Luckily, it was void that Lea was only too happy to fill.

Saïx had been the one to cook dinner. It seemed that that was part of the breakdown of chores in their living arrangement: he usually handled supper while breakfast was Lea's job. Saïx and I had already emptied our plates by now while Lea was still working on his, seeing as how he was otherwise preoccupied with talking a mile a minute. The meal had been a very nice chicken bruschetta pasta paired with a red wine from a fancy looking bottle. The latter I'd thought to be a bit of an odd choice, as I didn't picture Lea being much of a wine drinker. But there he was, sipping away at it, pinkie raised as he did so for an added bit of flair. I guess he just wasn't picky and would drink whatever was put in front of him. I, on the other hand, had decided not to partake. Would rather keep a clear head during this bit of subterfuge we were playing out in front of Saïx.

The point was, there was wine. And wine equaled a wine tipsy Lea. And a wine tipsy Lea, as I was discovering, equaled a chatty Lea. The boy was already chatty to begin with, but this was an all new level. This was chatty on steroids. Needless to say, he was having no trouble whatsoever keeping the conversation rolling.

"Why are we even discussing the GUMMI space program again?" Saïx asked in his bored monotone.

Lea drove his fork down into his pasta, twirling it around. "You know you're always a total slut for outer space, man. The moon and constellations and all that crap is your jam."

"Yes, but our guest," he gestured towards me, "might not find the topic nearly so interesting."

Trailing a finger along the rim of my still full wine glass, I said, "Actually, I've been fascinated by the research their lead mechanical scientist Cid Highwind has been doing in the field of warping technology. With his help, it might not be long before our ships can travel to other solar systems."

Both men just blinked silently at me for a moment.

What? So I liked to keep up on current events by reading a news article every now and again online. It really was not a big deal.

Saïx was the one to speak up first. "Yes. It's said Highwind is hoping to have a working prototype in less than five years."

Do my eyes deceive me? Was that the hint of a smile ghosting over Saïx's mouth?

Oh wow, I think I'd managed to score some points.

...not that it mattered, of course. Since this was only a fake relationship, after all, so getting in the brother's good graces didn't really mean all that much to me. Not one bit. Nope.

Nuzzling his nose to my ear, Lea beamed, "Hell yeah! My baby knows shit!"

"More than you do at least," Saïx sniffed blandly.

Expression relaxing into a sly grin now, he shot back, "I know enough to know about an astral sea monster whose sheer mass is gargantuan enough to blot out the very sun, the terror of the cosmos, eater of spacecrafts and destroyer of worlds, the dreaded galactic space whale," he paused for dramatic effect before splaying a hand out before him as he intoned in hushed reverence, "...Monstro."

Saïx grumbled under his breath and facepalmed.

"By my count, that's the eighth time he's done that tonight," Lea stage whispered to me. "Just five more and I'll have beat my all-time record."

I gave a low hum of amusement. "I suppose it's important to have goals in life."

He snorted, returning his attention to his food as he scooped a forkful into his mouth. I noticed that he'd incidentally stained one side of his lips in the process and I had a brief flashback to a familiar scene of Sora and Kairi. Of the pair of them sitting in the food court and Kairi kissing away a similarly located blotch on her boyfriend. Now that right there had been a seriously advanced dating technique and one I was in no way ready to try out myself. You kidding me? I was still very much a beginner here and the very idea of trying to pull off such a maneuver already had my ears turning pink. That said, a newbie like me still had some options, especially with my newfound ability to make the first move and actually touch my (fake) boyfriend without completely spazzing out.

I tucked in my lower lip, hesitating briefly as my pulse thudded a little more loudly against my eardrums. But then I slowly lifted my hand.

Lea visibly stiffened as he felt my thumb brush at the corner of his mouth, wiping the smudge away. As I began to retract my arm however, he dropped his fork to snatch my wrist and stop me. I arched an eyebrow at him. He smiled back with hooded eyes. Then he gently tugged my thumb up to his lips and licked the sauce off it.

Breath hitching, I yanked my hand free of his grasp. His smile just turned smug as he winked at me.

Apparently, Wine Tipsy Lea had even less boundaries than usual.

As I wiped my thumb with a napkin and ducked my head to hide my boiling cheeks, I heard Saïx mutter, "One has to wonder what a woman of your obvious intelligence and sophistication even sees in an asinine clown such as my brother."

"Well let me think about it," Lea's eyes danced as he folded his hands together, steepling his index fingers so the joined tips touched his mouth. "Perhaps it's my devilish charm and debonair good looks?"

"Oh come now," he said cooly with another sip of his wine, "if you're going to be making things up, you should attempt to make them at least halfway credible."

"He makes me laugh," I suddenly heard myself saying. As both pairs of eyes turned towards me, I immediately felt self-conscious. I mean seriously, what a stupid, cliché thing to say. But that didn't make it any less true, any less… meaningful. I wasn't someone who laughed a lot. In fact, before I'd run out on my wedding, I could probably count the number of times I'd laughed in the last year on one hand.

Fidgeting with my fingers, I pushed forward, "He's sweet… and thoughtful. And genuine. He's not afraid to be himself. And because of that, I find it easier to be… myself... around him." Another thing that did not come easy to me.

As Lea slipped an arm around my shoulders so he could pull me closer and plant a swift peck to my temple, Saïx gave a soft harrumph, "Well, I guess there's no accounting for taste."

"Psst, Saïx," Lea lowered his voice, bending forward over the table and cupping a hand to his mouth. "The moon landing was faked."

With a heavy sigh through his nose, he merely rose from his chair and started gathering the plates and silverware together. As he reached for mine, I protested, "No, that's okay, I can take care of it."

"You're the guest," he said simply as he swiped it up in one smooth motion.

"Best not argue, otherwise he might unleash his berserker wrath on you," Lea sniggered to me. However, when Saïx next took his plate away (still with food on it), he snapped, "Hey! I wasn't done with that!"

"Then you should have eaten faster," he responded dryly.

He stuck his tongue out at him. "Oh yeah? Well the earth is flat." As Saïx turned towards the kitchen, the plates stacked in his hand "accidentally" smacked into Lea's forehead, forcing a small grunt out of him.

I hid a grin behind my hand as Lea pressed his fingertips to the fresh sore spot with a soft tch. Then he downed the rest of his wine as he stood up himself, gathering the other glasses between his fingers on one hand while balling up napkins together in the other. He looked at me, face brightening, "Why don'tcha go on and take a seat in the living room. I'll join ya after I finish helping Saïx clean up."

"Alright," I nodded. He used a hand (the one stuffed full of napkins) to pull my seat out as I stood and gave him a tiny smile before moving past him. Reaching the blue sofa, I moved some of its mismatched pillows to clear a space and took a seat on the far end, tugging the hem of my dress down to cover my knees as I listened to the sound of running water and clinking dishware coming from the kitchen.

I didn't have to wait long before the boys were rejoining me. Lea came bounding over first, plopping himself unceremoniously down onto the couch with me.

Leaving one whole cushion space between us.

I furrowed my brow over at him. However, I did not have to wonder for long at his unexpected seating choice.

For next thing I knew, he'd flopped over onto his side and was using my lap as a makeshift pillow.

My eyes widened and I jolted, one hand going to my chest. His cheek nestled against my leg as one hand went to my knee, his thumb tracing lightly along its top curve over the fabric. "Mmm… you're comfy!" he sighed contentedly.

It was official. Wine Tipsy Lea had absolutely zero boundaries.

Halfway into taking a seat into a maroon armchair to our right, Saïx stopped. Then he straightened back up to his full height with a tired, drawn-out huff. "Perhaps some coffee would be in order."

I gradually relaxed, my eyes crinkling as I glanced down at Lea with a resigned smile. He was like a kitten cuddling into my lap. A really big kitten. I half expected him to start purring. "Perhaps that might be for the best," I murmured in agreement.

My eyes lifted long enough to follow Saïx as he made his way back over towards their kitchen, long blue hair swaying behind him as he went. When I looked back down, I realized with a tiny start that one of my hands had taken it upon itself to start lightly stroking Lea's hair.

Huh. How did that cheeky little devil get there?

I should stop.

But it was just so very... soft. Softer than I remembered. So soft that it felt like I was doing something wrong, something… forbidden by daring to touch it.

...okay, I really, really needed to stop.

...ten seconds. Just ten more measly, innocent seconds, then I'd stop.

There was a low, pleased hum in Lea's throat as my fingers continued to slowly run through his fiery locks. Then he rolled over onto his back, capturing my hand with his to press a gentle kiss into my palm. It tickled and my heart stuttered as I felt a familiar heat creeping up my neck. He... did know Saïx was no longer nearby to witness this little production he was putting on... right? Then again, maybe Lea was too far gone by now to realize his brother had left the room and so was still on boyfriend autopilot. Cradling my hand to his chest just over his heart, his other came up to start fiddling with the end of my braid from where it hung forward over my shoulder as he grinned up at me. "Wanna know?"

My head tipped to one side, "...know what?"

"You said what you see in me, so now it's my turn. Wanna know what I see in you?"

I blinked at him. Then my eyes briefly flicked over to Saïx just beyond the island counter where he was filling a coffee maker with water. Could he hear us all the way over there? Hopefully… this might be good for show. With a low snort, I planted my elbow on the armrest next to me, propping my cheek against my knuckles as I dropped my gaze back to Lea. "Sure, why not? Go for it."

This should be good.

His grin twitched wider. "You're kooky."

...well I certainly wasn't disappointed.

Though that wasn't quite the word I would have expected out of him. In fact, not the word I would have ever expected out of anyone when used to describe me.

One of my eyebrows quirked. "I'm… kooky?"

He nodded, "Mm-hm! Most people don't know it, but it's there. Way, way deep down in here," he tapped a finger to a spot just below my collarbone before going back to toying with my braid. "Ya try to keep it hidden. Don't like people seeing that side of you for some reason. But I've caught glimpses of it. I like it. Makes me feel like I'm in on a secret no one else is. And you're fun. Hella smart, too. And so goddamn pretty."

"That so?" I muttered, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

Wine Tipsy Lea was laying it on a bit thick.

Still… I was smiling despite myself.

"And that. Right there," he tapped a finger to my lips. "Your smile is gorgeous. Was the first thing about you that had me head over heels. I love being the one to put it there. Love being the one that can make you laugh."

Did I say a bit thick? Try instead a lot thick. Too thick. Like two metric tons too thick. Jeez, perhaps I'd be better off hoping Saïx couldn't actually hear all this. Even he might think it a bit too much to be believable.

Lea's eyes softened as he continued to stare up at me, his hand shifting over from my mouth to lightly graze his curled fingers against my cheek, leaving tiny tingles in their wake. "...I wish we were real."

Insert record screech.

E-E-Excuse me?!

My heart stopped. Like legit full on stopped. There were at least three full seconds there where if a medical examiner had checked my pulse, they would have probably declared me dead.

Lea froze, his whole body locking up. His eyes grew round and his face blanched, his expression now a perfect mirror of what I imagined my own must have looked like in that exact moment as he seemingly and immediately realized his mistake.

Now I definitely hoped Saïx couldn't overhear us! There seemed to be no reaction from over in the kitchen beyond the sound of water beginning to boil. Which was good. Maybe our cover wasn't blown and-

...and so not the point right now! The point was… was…

Ex-friggin'-scuse me?!

Wish we were real? What did that even mean? Real what? Did he mean that he wanted… that he wished he and I… that we were a… an actual, honest to god coupl-

No! No, I must have misheard. Yeah, that had to be it! He hadn't said… er… what I thought he'd said. No, what he'd probably actually said was, uh… was he wished we were… seals. Yeah, that's probably what it was! Seals were neat! And… and cute! I wouldn't blame him for wanting to be one, especially in his less than totally sober state! Or… or… he could have said that he… he fished… for Neil. Who was Neil, one might wonder? Got me! But you know what? Good for Lea, helping his ol' pal Neil out with fishing like that. Nice guy, that Lea. Such a giver, such a-

"TORS!" Lea suddenly shouted, practically making me jump out of my skin as he shot up off my lap and scooted all the way over to sit at the opposite end of the couch. He had a hand clasped over his nose and mouth, doing a poor job of hiding his reddened (wine flushed?) face. "Realtors! I wish we were realtors, is what I was trying to say!" he hastily clarified, shooting a weak chuckle my way.

I stared at him blankly.

Wha…? Realtors…?

Apparently, he wasn't done. "Yeah! You know, one of those power couples you hear about all the time! Partners in everything, from romance to real estate! That's some real lovey-dovey crap right there, don'tcha think? The epitome of passion! The sappiest dream to ever sap! The-"

"What inanity are you babbling on about now?" Saïx returned, causing me for the second time in as many minutes to nearly die of cardiac arrest. He was carrying two steaming mugs, one in each hand.

"Nothing! Not a damn thing! Nope! Total nonsense!" Lea said quickly, snatching up one of the cups and rapidly blowing on the coffee a couple times before knocking back the whole thing in one go. He pulled the cup away from his lips with a wince, probably suffering from a tongue that was now at least mildly burnt. Then he plastered on a grin, "You know how I get when I'm lost in the sauce, man. I start rambling off total bullshit that I don't even mean. Never. Mm-mm, nope, not one bit! Every word of it? Total garbage. Yup! Heh…"

I flinched back from the second warm mug that was suddenly being offered me. I'd barely had a chance to hold up my hand and shake my head before Lea was grabbing that one too, handling this one with smaller, more cautious sips.

...realtors.

Huh.

Okay, sure, why not?

Not like it was any crazier than any of the other explanations I'd come up with myself. Especially when you considered Lea was more than a little buzzed. People said nonsensical things all the time while under the influence. I'd know, I'd seen Anna in a state of three sheets to the wind on more than one occasion. You should have heard half the things she'd blathered on about at the time… adventures through magical winter wonderlands, talking snowmen, singing rock people, whole castles made of-

Shoot, Saïx was talking to me. Or rather, had been talking to me for a while and now seemed to be expecting some sort of reply. Still a little rattled, I scrounged together a flimsy but polite smile, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

One thin eyebrow arched ever so slightly at me as he cradled a fuming mug between his hands. Apparently he'd gone back at some point to get one for himself as well. "...I heard you were present during one of my sleepwalking episodes a couple weeks back. I hope I didn't give you too much of a fright."

"Oh! No! No, it's-" I got distracted as I felt Lea gingerly inching back over to sit beside me. Probably trying to salvage some semblance of the relationship pretense. However, his affections had become somewhat subdued, restricted now to only resting an arm along the sofa cushions behind my head and his knee brushing against mine as he continued to nurse the coffee. Regathering my train of thought, I tried again, "It's, uh… it's alright. Not your fault. Nor was I bothered by it at all. Just had to stay out of your way, is all."

"Still I-"

"Ya know what?" Lea suddenly piped up, plonking the now empty mug down onto the coffee table right next to the first one. "Sorry guys, but I think we gotta call it an early night! I'm beat! And I mean woof! Dog-tired!"

My eyebrows knit together as I glanced over at him. "...but you just chugged two full cups of coffee."

...what are you doing, you fool, shut up! He was probably trying to rescue us by putting a merciful end to what, as of the last five minutes, had officially become one royal disaster of an evening!

He bat a hand through the air, "That? Please, that was just to help sober my drunk ass up! Trust me, caffeine doesn't do jackshit to me when it comes to staying awake."

Saïx's mouth had settled into a flat line as his green gaze shifted back and forth between Lea and me. "Very well," he said finally, closing his eyes as he raised his cup to his lips, "I presume my noise canceling headphones will be a necessity while I work tonight."

I frowned. "Noise canceling…?"

Lea cleared his throat and gave a sheepish chuckle while scratching a spot behind his ear. "He, uh… thinks you're spending the night."

"Oh…" I said slowly before his words had a chance to fully sink in. Then they did. "Oh!" I repeated more loudly, eyes widening as I rocketed up to my feet, "You mean sex!"

...what the actual frick, mouth?!

"Which is a thing!" Apparently, I was only getting started. Panic mode was in full effect now. "A thing d-dating couples do! Which… which we are! Dating, that is. And a couple! Can't, uh… can't forget that part." Dear lord, where's a gag when you need one? "Which, I don't know w-why you would. Because clearly we're a couple. Yup! That's us!" Yeesh, at least when Lea had been yammering off nonsense, he'd had wine coursing through his veins. What was my excuse? "A couple! A couple who, ah…" Oh no. "...who have, er…" Don't you say it. Don't you dare say it. "...who have sex!"

I winced.

Just shoot me. Shoot me now.

"Oh yeah, lots and lots of it!" Oh great. There was more. "All the time! In all s-sorts of, um… places. My room. His room. Oh look," I pointed both my hands towards Lea's door, "there's his room now!" Make an excuse to leave. Any excuse. " I think we'll go in there now and make with all the sex!" Not that excuse! Pause, followed by tiny, nervous laughter from me. "Yup."

Then before I knew it, I'd bolted into said room, door crashing shut behind me. I pressed my back to it, clutching both hands to my mouth as I hyperventilated and trembled, eyes huge and unblinking as I stared off into space, registering absolutely zilch of what was in front of me now.

What.

Did.

Just.

Do?!

You know what, cheeks? I won't even try and stop you this time. You go right on ahead and blush your nonexistent little hearts out. Fry my face to a friggin' crisp, for all I care. I won't judge. You have every right after… that. Whatever the heck that even was just now!

Oh gosh, had I really just gone on and on about, hrm… intimate relations? In front of Lea's brother? That... had to be... the most spectacular case of anxiety-induced word vomit to date from me yet! What was wrong with me? Who does that? No, seriously, I demand answers this instant, what in the everliving-

A soft knock at the door made me yelp and jump away, whipping around to face it, heart trying to jackhammer its way out of my chest. I was greeted by my own frazzled reflection staring back at me from the full-length mirror hanging there. My face could have been mistaken for a ripe, oversized tomato.

"...El?" Lea's muffled voice came through from the other side. "You might've, uh… kinda forgot something."

A crease formed between my eyebrows. Forgot something? No, I don't think so. I glanced down at myself, hands patting over my dress. Phone in pocket? Check. Shoes on feet? Check. No purse, I hadn't used one tonight. No coat, I'd thought it too warm out for it. My gaze settled on the door once more, eyes scrunching. "What did I forget?"

"...me?"

Oh.

Fudge.

After that, ah… stirring speech I'd just given out there a moment ago, it would certainly help drive the point home if I had him in here with me, wouldn't it?

After all, it took two to, ahem... tango.

As I reached a hand towards the doorknob, I realized I hadn't even locked it. Lea must have only been knocking to be considerate. A consideration I greatly appreciated, especially when you take into account that this was in fact his room that I'd taken sanctuary in. Taking a deep breath and expelling it slowly in one last ditch effort to calm my nerves, my still shaking fingers closed around the knob and twisted.

I cracked the door ajar about an inch, just barely enough for me to peek one eye through. Arms crossed and one shoulder propped against the doorframe, Lea tilted his head with a tiny smile, "Hey."

My gaze fell to my feet for a moment before flicking back up to meet his. "...hi."

"Can I come in?"

I hesitated for another heartbeat then nodded, pulling the door open further and taking a couple steps back. He turned his head to one side, calling out a quick, "Night, man!" to Saïx before walking in and closing the door.

Ah, awkward silence. Ye hath returned. Never could stay away from me for long, could you?

"So…" I hugged myself and decided to get into a staring contest with the floor. "...think he likes me?"

Lea snerked, folding one arm behind his back, hand hooking his opposite elbow as he leaned back against the mirror hanging from his door. "You kidding? He adores you. Practically ready to call ya sister-in-law."

I attempted a smile. It came across as more of a grimace. "Even after I was… all…"

"...smooth and cool as a cucumber?" he supplied, his voice chipper. "Absolutely! And you said you couldn't lie," he teased. "You handled that one like a total pro!"

...oh. Wow, he was right. Not about the "pro" part, obviously, but that I had lied. For the first time since this whole charade started, I'd told a straight out, bald-faced lie. It had been a monumental failure, to be sure, but hey… we all had to start somewhere. Guess I had to take my silver linings wherever I could.

"Gah, I should have just made up some sort of… of excuse or something." I started pacing slowly, eyes still downcast as I brought one hand up to chew on my thumbnail. "Said I couldn't stay because I had an opening shift tomorrow."

He shook his head, "Saïx knows you work at the mall with me, so he also knows I woulda happily driven ya over from here, even at the crack of dawn."

Frowning, I tried again, "Well then, I could have said that… ah! That you had an early test tomorrow so I shouldn't be keeping you up late!"

"Nah, he knows me too well," he smirked, waggling his eyebrows. "Knows I'd never let a lil thing like that stop me."

I blinked. Then I buried my face in my hands with a groan. "Oh god, I can never face him again. Not after that." Dragging my palms down to peek out between my fingers, I grumbled, "I'm guessing it's safe to assume he's retracted his 'woman of obvious intelligence and sophistication' comment." Ha. Showed what Saïx knew.

Shrugging one shoulder, he laughed, "I wouldn't worry 'bout it too much. Just another side of your kookiness that I mentioned earlier. 'Sides, he knows what a nervous, jumpy creature you are."

Up quirked one eyebrow. "...he does?"

"Well, he does now."

...fair point.

One that did not make me feel better.

"And look at the bright side," Lea continued. "It's good this happened here rather than in front of your folks! Now you'll be better prepared to handle it the next time it comes up."

My lips twisted sourly, "I guess so." As bad as this already was, it would have spelled utter disaster if that little freakout had occurred during the upcoming weekend with my parents. We're talking one epic catastrophe here, like meteor-taking-out-the-dinosaurs kind of catastrophe. Then again, I didn't particularly see this exact set of circumstances arising while I was around my family. Still… best to be on the safe side. I wrinkled my brow, "Better prepared… how?"

"Ah, well…" he pursed his lips to one side, tapping a finger against his other arm. "For starters… and I'm just spitballing here, but next time you could maybe just, ya know… not say the word sex repeatedly? If at all? I'm thinking this is 'less is more' kinda situation."

"...good call."

"Heh," he paused, rubbing his shoulder. "So... looks like we're bunkmates."

I lowered my gaze once more and brought my curled fingers up to my mouth, covering my deepening frown. "Yeah… looks like…"

I wish we were real.

Gah, why was I still even thinking about that?! Lea had already explained it, hadn't he? Realtors. The word he had actually said, had been in the middle of saying, was realtors. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just the ramblings of a guy who'd had a little too much to drink. Why was I still stuck on this?

My face must have been an open book. "Listen, I… meant what I said earlier," he spoke abruptly and my eyes darted up to lock on his. He averted his gaze and scratched his cheek, "You can't take anything I say too seriously when I've been drinking. Often my brain is just stringing random words together and spitting out the first arbitrary bullshit it can come up with. Like a toddler that's just learned to talk, regurgitating words it doesn't even understand just cuz it heard it from someone else at some point. Half the time, the things I say when I'm liquored up don't even make any sense." His eyes settled on me once more, this time accompanied by a weak smile. "So just don't be too… concerned about any gibberish that came blurting outta my stupid drunk mouth, 'kay? And you won't hear another peep of it tonight. Those two coffees are kicking in fast, so I'm much more clear headed now."

I tugged at my braid before folding my arms tightly together once more. "...okay."

And now onward to Act 1, Scene 2 of the award-winning and critically acclaimed musical: Awkward Silence.

"I have a lizard!"

My head rocked back at Lea's sudden declaration out of nowhere, both eyebrows shooting up my forehead. "...a lizard?"

He nodded eagerly, grinning big now. "Yeah! Wanna see? Come take a look!" He moved off to his left towards one corner of the room and for the first time I realized that there was a large glass terrarium situated on a long, low table in that spot. Lea squatted down next to it, waving me over to join him. I obliged and when I got close enough, he took hold of my hand and tugged me down into a crouch beside him. He squinted into the enclosure for a second, scanning all the rocks and plants inside before, "Ah-ha!" He pointed, tapping his finger against the glass, "There he is!"

And indeed, there he was, curled up inside a small, hollowed out log and blinking back at us. He was a tiny thing, all big eyes and blue skin except for the purple markings running down his back. "Oh wow," I slowly smiled, "you really do have a lizard. Why didn't you say anything last time I was here?"

"Cuz 'come into my bedroom so I can introduce you to my lizard' sounds a lil sketch, don'tcha think?" he chuckled, waggling his pointer finger up and down at his pet in greeting.

A soft snort. "Yeah, that might have earned you a dubious look." The critter crawled out into the open now, giving us a curious look. "Can I hold him?"

Lea flashed some dimple, "Course!" Straightening up, he moved the terrarium's lamps to one side before sliding out the lid and reaching inside, mumbling, "C'mere, Bruni." Picking the reptile up, he then offered him to me, "Now, the lil guy's usually shy at first but warms up quick and can be a bit of a flirt."

I stood as well, holding one hand out. Bruni cautiously put one stubby-toed foot on my fingers, eyeing me warily before fully walking the rest of the way into my palm. He was small enough to fit perfectly in it. Then he cocked his head up at me. I cocked mine back then hummed a low laugh, stroking a finger along the top of his head. That seemed to be all it took to win him over, for he then bellyflopped into a cuddle against my palm before rolling over onto his back.

"Bit of a flirt indeed," I murmured, rubbing his tummy with my fingertip. "What kind is he?"

"Salamander. Which, I know, technically not a lizard. But feels simpler most of the time just telling people that's what he is." He fell silent for a second, eyes crinkling as he watched us. Then he walked past me, saying, "Hey, welcome to my room by the way!"

I turned to face him and for the first time got a real good look at the place. If I had to pick one word to describe it, that word would be pandemonium.

Clothes were strewn about everywhere, covering floor and furniture alike - pretty much anywhere conceivable besides actually inside a dresser. Bookshelves stacked high with no rhyme or reason, textbooks next to movie DVDs (from action thriller to cornball classics) next to game CD cases next to vinyl records. Walls and ceiling plastered with posters, mostly of classic rock bands, but there was the occasional renegade: one here in which a dangerous looking man posed with an Assassin's Creed logo across the bottom, another one there depicting a grim reaper character dual-wielding sickles that looked to be from another video game of some sort. A queen-sized bed with black and red sheets buried beneath a mess of paper and more textbooks, along with a closed laptop and his shoulder bag tossed carelessly on top of it all.

And that was just barely scratching the chaotic surface. Needless to say, it was a lot to take in.

"Pardon the mess," he gave a rueful chuckle, scrambling to snatch clothes up off the carpet here and there to chuck into the laundry basket residing in his open closet, just under a black, full-length coat hanging from the rung in there. "Wasn't expecting any overnight visitors."

"It's, uh…" So many adjectives, so little time. As I searched for a word, I felt Bruni crawling up my sleeve. I kept an eye on him to make sure he didn't slip, but otherwise let him do his own thing. At last, I settled on, "...big."

"Yup! I got the masters! Comes complete with its own bathroom and everything," he jerked a thumb towards a second closed door on the other side of the room. By now, Bruni had found his way onto my shoulder and was snuggling into the crook of my neck. My fingers came up to pet along his spine. Narrowing his eyes on the salamander, Lea went on, "Surprisingly, Saïx prefers the smaller, cozier room. He's a minimalist, so not like he needs all that much space anyhow. Which works out for me, especially since I used to, er… heh, shall we say, host more sleepovers?"

I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth, but whatever I'd been about to say was forever lost.

For that's when Bruni did it.

He took the plunge.

Straight down into the neckline of my dress.

I yelped, arms crossing over my bosom. Lea's eyes widened, "Motherfu-" He lunged forward, hands outstretched before him like he had every intention of going down in there after Bruni. Then Lea froze, seemed to think better of it and instead folded his arms together, shoving his hands into his armpits as he looked away. "You, uh…" he cleared his throat, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, "...you okay?"

"Yeah. Just tickles a bit," I wrinkled my nose, trying not to squirm as I felt the little guy climbing around against my chest. Thankfully, it wasn't long before he moved over to start making his way down my sleeve. I gave my arm a gentle shake to help speed his progress along and eventually he came tumbling out into my palm.

"Sorry 'bout that," Lea scooped him back out of my hand into his, using the other to ruffle his hair with a tiny, bashful smile. "I know I said he was a flirt, but he's never been this brazenly forward before."

Shaking my head with a snerk, I said, "It's fine, really. Don't worry about it."

Walking back over to the terrarium, he turned a scowl onto the salamander. "And what do you have to say for yourself, young man?" Bruni just answered with a lizard grin, flicking his tongue out to lick his own eyeball. "Smug lil shit," Lea grumbled, setting him back down inside his home.

One corner of my lips twitching up, I turned to take another look around his room. Despite Lea's hasty tidying up, his carpet was still a disaster zone of shirts and other garments. As I began to carefully navigate it, I asked, "So how are we doing this?"

"Doing…?" I could hear the frown in his voice.

I looked back at him. "Sleeping arrangements?"

"Oh! That's easy!" Having now set the lid and lamps back into their rightful places, Lea walked towards me with his grin resurfacing. "You get the bed, I'll take the floor."

My eyelids drooped. "You can't sleep on the floor, that's ridiculous. It's your room."

"Exactly!" he started clearing the papers up off his comforter, gathering them all together and tucking them away inside one of the textbooks. "It's my room, so I'll sleep wherever I want in it! And tonight, the floor's looking pretty damn good!"

I huffed. "Enough with the chivalry already. I'll sleep on the floor."

He picked up his laptop and made his way over to a large mound of clothes. Oh wait. There was a desk hiding under there, or so I realized as soon as he started shoving all the shirts and whatnot aside. Placing the laptop down on top of it, he then shrugged back at me, "Hey, if that'll make ya happy, more power to ya. Doesn't change the fact that I will not be taking my siesta in that bed tonight."

A low harrumph in my throat. "Fine."

"Fine," he agreed, now opposite the bed from me as he hung his bag from a wall hook there. Then he squinted one eye at me, "So it's settled then. We're both sleeping on the floor. Like the couple of rational, mature, grown-ass adults that we are. While the perfectly good bed goes to waste. Cuz that makes total sense."

I shot him a deadpan look. "Alright, fine then. Bruni gets the bed."

He slapped his forehead, dragging his hand down his face with an exasperated laugh. "C'mon, El, will you just take the bed please? I won't be able to fall asleep if I know you're just curled up on the floor."

"Sounds like not my problem," I crossed my arms with a smirk. Oh-ho, that's right. I could be stubborn when I wanted to be.

"Woman! Just take the freaking bed before I throw you in the damn thing!" both his hands gestured in mild annoyance at said bed.

Scoffing, I turned my head to one side. "Please, it's the twenty-first century, your neanderthal tactics won't work on me."

Green eyes flashing, he said in a low, even voice, "They will if I make good on 'em."

My gaze narrowed on him now. "You wouldn't dare."

He bent forward, fists planted on the mattress as he gave me a tiny glare across it. "Wanna bet?"

My legs turned traitor and defected, sitting me down on the bed so quick, you would have missed the motion if you'd blinked.

"There now," his face immediately lit up like the first rays of sunlight at dawn. "Was that so hard?"

I made a little hmph in my throat, tucking my legs beside me as I smoothed my dress over my knees with as much dignity as I could muster. "I'll have you know that I chose of my own free will to take the bed tonight and it had nothing to do with any thinly veiled threats that may or may not have been made on your part." I unzipped my ankle boots, letting them fall to the carpet below with a couple of heavy thuds. "I mean, I am the guest after all, it's only proper etiquette that I sleep in the bed. I'm just making sure you're adequately performing your role as the host."

A soft snerk came from his nose as he kicked off his own shoes and spread his arms wide to give me a mock bow, "Well, thank you, Miss Manners, I dunno what I'd ever do without you."

"You're welcome," I sniffed lightly. It was nice of him to let me have this. I then felt the bed quake beneath me as Lea flopped down beside me, stretching out comfortably and cushioning his head with his arms. I blinked down at him. "...I'm sorry, did that conversation just end differently than I thought it did?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Hm?"

"Thought you were taking the floor."

"I am, but that's not until lights out. Right now, we're just chilling!" he beamed. But then his expression relaxed and he propped himself up slightly on his elbows, cocking his head at me. "This is okay, right?"

"Er…" I glanced away, gnawing on my bottom lip.

Yeesh, I seriously needed to grow up. This wasn't a big deal. Like, at all. So what if we were sitting in the same bed? Nothing to freak out about. I mean, sure, I'd never shared a bed with a guy before, not even my ex. Come to think of it, I'd never even been in a boy's bedroom before. But hey, there was a first time for everything. This would be fine. I would be fine.

"...yeah, it's okay," I finally responded. He frowned, not looking convinced. I put on my best brave smile and managed a tiny laugh, "Really, it's fine." Or at least it would be once we stopped talking about it. Wanting to move the conversation along to something else, I searched my brain for a new topic. "So… you and Saïx…" I drew my knees up, hugging them to my chest, "...do you always mess with each other like that?"

"Oh yeah, all the time," he chuckled, settling back down into his pillow and folding one arm back behind his head. "Nothing says you care like making the other person's life a constant living hell!"

Settling my chin down onto my knees, I snorted. "Remind me never to let you care about me."

"Too late!" he chirped. My eyeroll belied the tiny cartwheel my stomach was doing. "'Sides, all siblings are like that. I'm sure you and Anna have terrorized the crap outta each other more times than you can even count."

"Well yeah," I turned my head to look over at him, resting my ear to my legs instead, "but that was way back when we were children. We grew out of it a long time ago."

Lea grinned cheekily, "Oh really? I seem to recall a certain someone chasing her sister 'round the living room trying to straight up murder her dead not hardly more than a week ago."

Wow, had that really only been just last week? It felt like eons ago by this point. A soft noise of contempt huffed out through my nose, "Don't exaggerate. I didn't try to murder her."

"How did it go again? ...ah, I believe your exact words to her were, and I quote, 'dip you in liquid nitrogen, snap every frozen limb off your body one by one, and then I'll kill you.' That about sum it up?"

I pursed my lips to the right, "...there were extenuating circumstances."

"Heh," he stared up at the ceiling, "if ya say so."

I lifted my head back up, my arms loosening somewhat around my legs as I considered my next words carefully. "About Saïx… can I ask what happened?" Lea glanced back at me quizzically and I clarified, "I mean with…" I tapped a finger to the bridge of my nose.

"Oh, his scar?" he rolled over onto his side towards me, bracing his head in one hand. "Old battle wound from our time in the foster system. Same shithead who let us two numbskull brats play with a chainsaw. Negligent and abusive. Real winning combo there, huh?"

"You mean a foster parent did that to him? On purpose? That's terrible," I breathed, looking horrified.

"S'okay," he gave a one-shouldered shrug, then smirked wickedly. "I retaliated by burning his house down."

My eyes widened, "Did you really?"

Lea sighed, "Unfortunately, no, but not for lack of trying. Only managed to set a bed ablaze and blacken a few curtains before the fire department showed up."

I stared at him blankly. "I am just... simply amazed that you survived long enough to make it to adulthood. Either of you."

He blew out an amused pft through his teeth. "Yeah, Saïx and I were definitely prime candidates for the Darwin Awards growing up. Told ya, we were lil hellions forged straight from the fiery pits of El Diablo. Hey, speaking of Ol' Bullseye over there..." he trailed off as he suddenly sat himself up.

"Bullseye?" I asked, arching an eyebrow his way while watching him fold his legs beneath himself so he could stand on his knees atop the mattress.

"Ya know. Mr. X-Marks-The-Spot," he tacked on by way of explanation, abruptly shoulder-slamming into the wall behind us just above his pillows and making me jolt.

...the heck?

"...you mean Saïx?" I furrowed my brow, wincing as he followed it up by crashing his elbow against the wall next. "Aren't those nicknames a bit… mean?" My question was punctuated with another loud thump.

Seriously, what on earth…?.

"Nah, he likes it." Whack! "Knows they're terms of endearment." Bang! "Only from me though. Anyone else ever even so much as thought about calling him anything like that, I'd make sure next time they turned up would be in a bodybag." Whump! "'Sides, you should hear half the shit he calls me, especially when he's royally ticked." Thwack! "This one time, he-"

"Wait. Hold it. Stop," I held up my hands, eyes flicking back and forth between him and the wall. "...what exactly is it that you are doing?"

"Huh?" he stilled, blinking at me a couple times. "Oh this?" his shoulder rammed into the surface once more. "This is the wall I share with Saïx's room."

...well okay then, sure, that totally and one hundred percent cleared up my utter confusion and lack of comprehension.

Not.

"Alright," I said, stretching the word out. "And so…?"

"So he's come to expect a certain level of enthusiasm on my part whenever I'm entertaining a lady friend," Lea winked and clicked his tongue before once again striking the wall.

"Oh?" I frowned down at my hands. Then it clicked with another louder, "Oh!" Followed by a slower, more quiet, "Oh…" Cheeks warming now, I looked back over at him, "You mean you… that is, against the wall, you've… oh." A pause while my eyes shifted about in my awkwardness. "But wouldn't the headboard get in the-" I stopped, glancing back over my shoulder and answering my own question. "Oh… oh, I see. No headboard. Got it. How very, er..." I cleared my throat and ducked my head to my knees, muffling into them, "...very practical."

I heard him snerk as the beating the wall was taking continued. "You're funny when you're flustered, ya know that?"

My face cranked up the heat dial even further and I scowled.

If you listened closely, the signs of a very steady, very distinct rhythm to the pounding could be heard beginning to take shape.

...I needed to stop listening so closely.

My eyebrows knit together as I then remembered something. "Wait… didn't Saïx say something about noise canceling headphones?"

"Well yeah, so he's not hearing any of this, but he can still see whenever any of the crap on his shelves or any framed pictures or anything else that might be up against his side o' the wall shakes from the impact," he shrugged, halting to puff out a noisy breath and wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. Apparently, he was working up a sweat. Then he grinned brightly, "This is actually kinda fun! Wanna have a go at it?"

I shot him a flat look. "...I think I'm good, thanks."

"You sure?" Another slam. "It's actually pretty satisfying. One might even say cathartic. Got any pent-up aggression you gotta work out?" And another, this one taking the form of a punch. He immediately regretted that one, eliciting a pained hiss as he shook out his now reddening fingers.

"Yeah, no," I rapidly shook my head, "no pent-up aggression here. Fresh out." Insert weak chuckle at my lame joke that was neither funny nor an actual joke.

"Suit yourself," he laughed, smacking the wall hard with an open palm this time. Then his back snapped straight and his face lit up, "Oh yeah! Before I forget…" he pivoted to his left, reaching into his messenger bag he'd hung up earlier and rooting around in it.

I snorted, "Done already?"

"Just giving that wall a breather," he said, not looking up from his searching. "We've found some other surface to bear the brunt of all our lovemaking for now, but we'll probably be back to this one later."

Oh gosh. Way to go, mouth, you just had to ask, didn't you? Just when my cheeks had begun settling down too.

"Ah! Found it!" he triumphantly pulled something out of the bag. Flopping back down to once more lay flat on the bed beside me, he held it out towards me, "Pour vous, ma petite amie jolie."

I squinted at the booklet in his hand. Or more precisely, a catalog. "Twilight University?" I read the bold lettering as I reached out to take it, staring at the image on the cover of a handful of young adults gathered around in a small circle of desks and looking photogenically excited about education.

"Yup! It's the course listings for next semester at my college. Lookie here," he opened the booklet up, leaving it propped in my hands as he started thumbing through it quickly. "Ah, there!" he stopped on a page, resting his head on my shoulder as he pointed to one of several listings that had been circled here. "They offer a few different introductory drama classes ya might be interested in."

I blinked down at the catalog as vague memories of a conversation I'd had with Lea last time I was here to help him study started coming back to me. "...you remembered?" I asked quietly.

"'Course!" I could feel his cheek pull into a smile against my shoulder. "It seemed important to you, so how could I forget?"

Honestly? I myself had forgotten. But to be fair, I had had a lot on my mind the past couple weeks, what with suddenly having a boyfriend now (pretend or otherwise), trying to figure out how to make a proper show of being a girlfriend, and stressing out over the all too soon to come visit with my parents. Frankly, my life had been turned upside down as of late and had become the very definition of insanity. There had just quite simply been no time to think about childhood fantasies of singing and performing in musicals.

But I guess… right here, right now in Lea's room, I had a bit of a reprieve. I mean, it's not like there was anything exactly pressing at this very moment, nothing that couldn't wait until tomorrow at least. I suppose I had a few seconds I could spare to entertain the thought. It couldn't hurt anything…

"...so where is Twilight University exactly?" I stretched my legs out to lay flat on the mattress, crossing my ankles and resting the open booklet down in my lap. "Is it close to my apartment?"

He hummed low in thought. "Probably a bit too far if you're on foot. But maybe we could carpool there. And hey," he lifted his head to glance over at me, "I still got a free elective course or two that I need to take. I could enroll in the class with ya!"

I felt a grin tugging at one corner of my lips as I looked back down at the catalog, absently trailing my fingers down one of the circled paragraphs. "I think I'd like that…"

"Yeah?" he asked softly and for a second I thought I might have sensed him leaning in a little closer. But it must have just been in my head, for now he was pulling away to flop over onto his back on his side of the bed once again, making a small cough into his fist. "I, uh… talked to my friends too. The ones who run the local community theater. You're in luck! They're between shows at the moment and are actually gonna be holding auditions soon for their next one. Sometime this week, I think. It's a musical too!"

"Really?" I returned my gaze to him, closing the booklet but using a finger to hold the page. A sigh then escaped me as I worried my bottom lip between my teeth, "I don't know… I doubt I'm ready for anything like that."

Lea shook his head with a chuckle, "Ready for what? Just to talk to 'em? It's not like you actually hafta audition or anything. Nah, you can just head down, meet them, get some deets… maybe find out the where and the when so you can go and just watch other people tryout, ya know? Just get a feel for it, if you want."

He made a good point. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. I could go and just ask some questions, that's all. Surely, there would be no harm in that. "Maybe…"

"Well if you do decide you wanna drop in for a lil chat with them, their day job is over at Halloween Town in the mall. They should both be on the clock there around noon tomorrow. Ask for Jack or Sally and just tell 'em I sent ya," he jabbed a thumb into his chest with a big grin, "got it memorized?"

"Jack or Sally… okay," I nodded, responding with a small smile of my own. "I might do that. Thanks, Lea."

"Always happy to be of service! Now," he hopped up off the bed and made his way over to one of his shelves that was pure anarchy incarnate, "whaddya think? You up for a movie?"

The corners of my eyes crinkled and I set the catalog aside on the nightstand. "I could be. What are the options?"

He rubbed his chin, scrutinizing the mess crammed into the rack before pulling out a couple DVD cases, one from the top shelf and the other from somewhere in the middle. He held them up in either hand for me, "I'm thinking either Sixteen Candles or The Labyrinth. Thoughts?"

I looked between the two choices. Then my eyes scanned about the room and I frowned. "I'm thinking it's going to be hard to watch either of them without a TV."

"Without a-?" he blinked a couple times, looking over to his right. Then he sighed, "Hang on a sec," as he tossed the movies down onto the foot of the bed and made his way over to another towering pile of clothes against the wall directly across the room from his bed. "Watch and be amazed as I make a flat screen appear outta thin air in three… two…" he whipped the garments aside with a flourish, revealing the television beneath, "Ta-da!"

"Ah," I gave a polite clap and settled more comfortably down into his pillows, "I stand corrected. Though who needs movies when we have your amazing wizardry to keep us entertained?"

He scratched the back of his head, "Heh, it'd be a short magic show. 'Fraid I just got the one trick up my sleeve."

"Too bad." I paused, eyeing the DVD cases. "Make it a double feature?"

He snapped his fingers and snatched them both back up.

"Girl after my own heart. Pure genius."

Author's Note: Ah, yet another classic cliché for the books: our couple encounters one room, one bed for the night xD Also, fun fact: I started out this chapter stumped for what they should be talking about over dinner. Then I asked my bestie, who simply said: "gummi ships." And I just laughed it off at first, all "naw, that wouldn't make sense for this AU." But then it churned in my mind for a few minutes and I was like "wait… no… I think I can make this work…" And thus the Global Union for Multigalactic Mobility Investigation aka GUMMI Space Program aka NASA rip-off was born xD And further thus, Lea being an alien conspiracy-nut JUST for the sake of pissing of his space-loving half-bro was born xP Anyhoo! For those of you who haven't seen Frozen 2 yet (for shame, it's SO good, I demand you go out and watch it THIS INSTANT), Bruni the salamander is from that! He's a fire spirit in the movie with legit fire powers, so I got excited to give the fire boi a fire lizard for a pet! Also, maybe you can start to see the inklings of actual plot starting to sneak back into this story xD Slowly, we'll get back on course, but not before at least one more hijinks-y misadventure takes place… hehehe…

What does the next chapter hold in store for out couple? What new challenges could their budding fake relationship face? Is Elsa really going to pursue any sort of acting class or community theater? Will Lea ever follow his realtor aspirations he seemed so passionate about? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

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dreamsapphire28 · 4 years ago

Text

Jealousy

The protagonist i’m using for this story is the number 3 that I named Hiroshi

For as long as Akashi could remember Hiroshi had always been very… blunt. Ever since they were children if Hiroshi thought you were cute, nice, pretty or anything else he could think of, he would tell you as much without thinking it twice and if he disliked you in any way Hiroshi would not hesitate to tell you he did. Even as a child it was comforting for Akashi to know his best friend was so honest about his opinions on people because he never felt that Hiroshi would lie to him to make him feel better and that when Hiroshi said he liked spending time with him he meant it. As they were growing up Hiroshi’s bluntness took a rather unexpected turn with him becoming a very flirty person and him voicing it whenever he found someone attractive, which he sometimes did at not very appropriate times. But with everything that has happened Akashi finds comfort again in Hiroshi still being that way even after losing his memories, that means that even if Hiroshi can’t remember everything about their lives at his core he is still the same person.

Then there was Kyoichi, his former upperclassman, Kyoichi was known for seemingly having problems when it came to respecting other’s personal space Kyoichi always meant it in good fun and while some of his underclassmen were pretty ok with it (some even enjoying it), there was the undeniable fact that were quite some of them who were not comfortable with Kyoichi’s antics, Akashi counted himself as one of the later. While Kyoichi came off as bold when approaching other persons he was, and still is, very reliable and he genuinely cares about those under his care which is why a lot of his former underclassmen really appreciate him, even the ones who were annoyed by his way of interacting.

Which brings us to Akashi’s current predicament, he always felt unsure about introducing Hiroshi and Kyoichi, people like them either liked each other very much for being too similar or they disliked each other for being too similar, the first one would most likely end up in them ganging up on Akashi and with the second Akashi understood that he couldn’t force them to be friends but it would make him sad that two of the most important friends he has would actively dislike each other. In the end Akashi was spared of the choice since Hiroshi and Kyoichi ended up meeting when Kyoichi’s hero company sent him to Parallel Flight, along with two professors from his college, to meet with the members of the hero company they were teaming up with for an upcoming event. Hiroshi and Kyoichi got along almost immediately and Akashi had mixed feelings about it, sure his two friends were getting along which was a relief but it seemed like ever since they met one was encouraging the other to be on his worst behaviour.

The others were in some way glad that Hiroshi and Kyoichi decided to concentrated their teasing between themselves moreover it appeared that they made a game out of it, for Akashi though that made it all the worse especially when it was Kyoichi getting too handsy with Hiroshi. Hiroshi didn’t complain since for him and Kyoichi it was no more than not so innocent fun, yes sometimes things started to get a bit too steamy and someone had to step in (most of the time Akashi) still is not like they would do or say something truly indecent.

Today Kyoichi, Toshu and Shoen had come to Parallel Flight regarding the paperwork they had to fill out due to the incident that occurred during the event they were holding in which Toshu had been transformed into a hero by Huckle while Kyoichi and Shoen were transformed intro heroes by Hiroshi. Kyoichi had already finished his paperwork and had it signed by Hiroshi, the operator that aided him and Huckle, the director of the hero company. Since he had to wait for Toshu and Shoen to finish theirs, he and Hiroshi were at it again, Kyoichi had an arm draped around Hiroshi’s shoulders and was leaning so much into his face that their noses were almost touching, Hiroshi had a mischievous smirk on his face clearly already having a flirty remark for Kyoichi, Akashi was sitting across the room glaring daggers into them (mostly at Kyoichi). Whatever Hiroshi had said must’ve worked because Kyoichi’s face now had a slightly red hue to it, he leaned a bit closer and his other hand started to rise until it was almost touching Hiroshi’s-, “Okay that’s enough you two” Akashi said crossing the room rather quickly and untangling a giggling Hiroshi form Kyoichi’s arms “Oh, C’mon Akashi you’re no fun” Kyoichi said smiling almost innocently not minding in the slightest the glare that Akashi was giving him “Yeah Akashi we were just having fun” Hiroshi was barely able to contain his amusement at Akashi’s reaction “What you two were doing was a sure shot way to get a fine for public indecency ” Akashi said in a aggravated manner “I think that Toshu and Shoen must have finished their paperwork maybe you should go check Kyoichi” Akashi’s glare was unwavering “You’re right Akashi I’ll go check” Kyoichi was unfazed he was used to this kind of treatment from Akashi, heck he’d be surprised if he got a different reaction out of him ”Hiroshi the three of us are still getting lunch tomorrow right?” Kyoichi’s gaze rested on Hiroshi “Of course, if the fun police is okay with that” Hiroshi playfully elbowed Akashi’s side “Great, see you guys then” With that Kyoichi walked in the direction of Huckles’s office where he had left Toshu and Shoen.

After Hiroshi was sure Kyoichi was out of earshot he turned to Akashi “Okay you can tell me now why it bothers you” Hiroshi said suddenly “What are you talking about?” the statement caught Akashi off guard “You think that I haven’t noticed how you were glaring at us and I’m not just talking about today. So tell why me flirting with Kyoichi is a problem he’s not the only one I have flirted with” That was a good question. Why did it bother him? “Is it something that I don’t remember?” Hiroshi spoke softly, his ears lowering and his tail slightly tucking itself between his legs, afraid that him not having most of his memories might have caused him to do something that made Akashi upset “No is not that” Akashi replied quickly just seeing how downcast Hiroshi looked made him feel like a jerk for making Hiroshi think that. But the question remained ‘Why did it bother him so much?’ Akashi mulled over it for a while, deep down he knew why but wasn’t sure if was ready to come to terms with it. “If I’m going to be completely honest with you it bothers me whenever you flirt with someone” Akashi paused and took a small breath “I think my problem is that Kyoichi flirts back with you” Hearing that Hiroshi smiled a bit “So you’re jealous of me because Kyoichi flirts with me?” “Wha-, no, it’s… more like… all the attention you pay him” Akashi was blushing furiously by this point, Hiroshi blinked “ You are not jealous of me you are jealous of Kyoichi having my attention?” Hiroshi asked slowly, “... Yes and the way he touches you also bothers me” Akashi was registering the words after they left his mouth “Why?” Hiroshi thought the answer was obvious but he wanted Akashi to say it just in case he had read the situation wrong.

Akashi took in a deep breath “Hiroshi the time first you forgot about me when Kaibutsu attacked us all those years ago it was horrible for me you can’t imagine how much it hurt me that you of all people would forget me and now it happened again you can barely remember who I am or most of the things we’ve been through, I know I have to be patient with you and that we’ll find a way to get your memories back but you forgetting about me a second time made realize that even though I’m afraid of the world forgetting about me you forgetting about me hurts me the most” Akashi’s glance drifted to the floor while he was speaking, Hiroshi was giving Akashi an expecting look waiting for him to continue “You forgetting me again made me realize just how much I care about you, Hiroshi I… I love you, I have for a very long time but couldn't accept it until now” Akashi blurted out the last part getting even redder. Hiroshi stared blankly at Akashi for a second then blushed almost as red as him when his brain had processed what Akashi just told him “If you have then why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Even if it didn’t show right now forming coherent sentences was a challenge for Hiroshi “You just lost your memory I didn't want you to think I was taking advantage of you”. They stayed in silence for a while “Hiroshi please just say something” this time it was Akashi’s turn to look expectantly at Hiroshi “L-like what do you have any idea of what you just did?” Hiroshi’s blush deepened “I don’t know, you always have something to say. I thought you were good with things like love and stuff ” Akashi had to admit that having Hiroshi his best friend who never kept anything to himself stumbling over his words and not finding what to say was adorable, it felt like a small victory on it’s own no matter what Hiroshi’s answer to his confession was “No I’m not, love is a very complex emotion that I don’t know how to deal with, my thing is shameless flirting” only after he said it had Hiroshi realized he called himself a shameless flirt, but before he could correct himself Akashi had already bursted into laughter, ‘Had Akashi’s laugh always been this cute?’ Hiroshi thought to himself. After Akashi had calmed down a bit from his fit of laughter he shyly extended his hand to Hiroshi “Well then how about we deal with this complex emotion together” Akashi asked rubbing the back of his neck and with a nervous smile, Hiroshi returned the smile “That was so cheesy but also very cute” Hiroshi took Akashi’s hand and continued speaking “Okay, we’ll figure this out together”.

The next day

It was almost lunch time, Hiroshi and Akashi were waiting on the ground floor of the office building of Parallel Flight to go on break when Kyoichi arrived “Sorry that I ran late, I’ll pay to make up for it OK” Kyoichi announced happily “Hey Kyoichi, don’t worry we haven’t been waiting for long” Hiroshi smiled cheerfully at Kyoichi “Well how kind of you Hiroshi” Kyoichi smirked while leaning close to Hiroshi’s face ” Yes I know, I’m an angel, but Kyoichi we have to talk abou-” Hiroshi’s gave a small yelp when he felt Akashi’s wrap around his waist and pull him away from Kyoichi, he ended up with his back pressed against Akashi’s front and a very red face “Ohh, Akashi how forward I didn’t know you were playing now. How did you convince him, Hiroshi?” Kyoichi said excitedly “ I’m not playing your game and neither are you two” Akashi said matter of factly “Wow Akashi you’re suddenly very protective are boyfriends now?” Kyoichi said teasingly, at the mention of the word ‘boyfriends’ Hiroshi’s face turned a little redder, Kyoichi’s eyes widened “You are, aren’t you?. That’s so cute, I can’t believe it my little Akashi is all grown up now” Kyoichi dropped the teasing tone he had seconds ago replaced by genuine excitement and happiness “Don’t call me that Kyoichi!” Akashi said slightly aggravated, Kyoichi completely ignored it “C’mon I said I’d treat you to lunch, you two can tell everything about it after we get something to eat” Kyoichi started leading the way by the looks of it he was very excited, Akashi and Hiroshi sighed and started following him, Akashi’s arm still around Hiroshi’s waist

#LIve A Hero #LAH #Akashi #Live A Hero protagonist #Kyoichi #fanfic #fanfiction

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teacup-crow · 5 years ago

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Sunset

It’s Zombies, Make! day 2, session one! Thanks @puptart :)

This one was harder than the other two but I got something eventually! Based on prompt 2 (Girls Just Wanna Have Fun) and prompt 3, some really pretty forest pictures!

Jody and Cameo meet up to talk about old times, post S5M40.

CW: implied/referenced torture but nothing graphic at all

“You know, things don’t always have to be death and murder and sadness. We can just hang, like normal people.”

Jody glances at her friend in some disbelief. The two of them are parked out in trees, high above the forest floor, concealed from any zoms or Ministry loyalists who might wander down the path. But it’s quiet, at least for now. She has a flask of ersatz coffee with far too much honey in it, Cameo’s attempt at making things more palatable. In the distance, there’s even birds cooing. Her hands itch for her bow and arrows just hearing the sound, and the thought strikes her as funny. Six years ago, in that other life when she was a bank clerk, the idea of shooting a pigeon for lunch would be absolutely grim to her. Now, she’s already mentally pairing it with wild onions and that red wine stash Ian had stored in the farmhouse cellar, imagining people’s delight around the dinner table. Her people’s delight.

It’s a warm day, and for the first time in a long time, they’ve nowhere to be. She could maybe even let her guard slip for half a second if she isn’t careful.

“You sound like Eleven,” she replies at last, her smile a little thin.

“Well, we spent enough time together. Our stupid boys and their stupid dreams, huh.”

That hurts. Owen’s dopey lovestruck smile shutters into her head with a camera flash. Next, Kytan’s earnest, beaten face, offering her fingerprint-marked bread through the bars of her cell. Even Tom, shaking her awake on a bad night, asking her to hold him until he falls back to sleep.

“Have you seen him since everything happened?”

“Ky? No. He writes me letters, but I’m… not ready for that, you know? I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“I mean… that makes sense. But he didn’t mean to hurt you, Cam. He was only trying to stop you from getting-”

“Doesn’t matter very much what he was trying to do. He still betrayed Five, and that means he betrayed every single one of us. If I choose to be insubordinate to a lunatic, that’s my choice, right?” Cameo shakes her head, her auburn curls finally beginning to grow out again where they were hacked off for some infraction or other glowing warm in the evening sunshine. “Hey! Aren’t I the one who said it doesn’t always have to be death and murder and sadness? Let’s not dwell on it.”

Jody nods, swinging her legs. “Remember how it used to be when we were roommates?”

“Oh my God. The original barracks were an actual nightmare.”

“Kids these days with their four person rooms, they don’t even know they’re born!” They both laugh. “Remember karaoke night?”

“I will never forget karaoke night, unfortunately. Three’s dance moves are printed on my brain forever.”

“I did not expect Five to be a Mariah Carey fan, but there you go.”

“Eugene’s rendition of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” Cameo giggles. “Are you going to be reinstating those nights during your leadership Commander Marsh?”

“Don’t call me that,” Jody puts her head in her free hand. “It’s terrifying!”

“Are we going to have to salute you?”

“Stop. It.”

“I can only manage ironic saluting, I’m afraid,” Cameo waves her hand near her forehead mockingly, the universal signal for crazy.

“I’m sure Ian loved that.”

“Oh, he was my biggest fan,” she smirks. She’s expertly whittling some wood, one of those many, many extraordinary skills alongside hacking and beekeeping and being brave to the point of stupidity. Before meeting her, Jody had felt quite accomplished, but Cameo managed to be good at everything she ever tried. And that was valuable.

“Come back home, Thirteen. I need people like you, now more than ever. If I’m going to be in charge of this disaster, I need people I know I can still trust with me. You’ve been there since the very beginning, and…”

“Oh. So this is what this is.”

Jody didn’t expect her tone to be so bitter or accusatory. “What is it?”

“It’s not a catch-up for old time’s sake. It’s not a reminder of things being better. It’s not for fun. It’s trying to drag me back to fulfil a duty I didn’t ever sign up for. My boyfriend is dead; my other boyfriend has lost half his marbles, and I can’t go back because Abel is… it’s tainted. Ian took somewhere I loved and he warped it and now I can’t think of it without feeling this gnawing hunger in my stomach.” Her hands tremble around the knife she’s holding. “You’ve heard of the Stanford prison experiment, yeah? Ordinary people don’t do well when you give them guns and a whole fucking town to beat up on.”

“I’m – I’m sorry. I was supposed to die. Would have, if Tom hadn’t rescued me. I wasn’t supposed to leave you behind.” I never wanted to leave anyone behind.

“I know, but Four… it got so much worse. You left us for so long. And she, she, she let it happen. She let him poison everything, slowly. Turned us all on each other. And it’s broken me. I didn’t know it back then, because I was just trying to survive, but…”

She falls silent, staring down at the wood she’s whittling, her next words so quiet they barely carry between the trees.

“You have to stop her. You just… have to. But I can’t help anymore.”

Jody nods. The sunset glows in the trees. A chapter ends, a new one begins. She begins to climb down, feeling her radio buzz in her pocket.

“Will I see you again?”

“I’m sure you will.”

It isn’t a promise. She didn’t expect that much, but still.

“You’re a stronger woman than me, Jody Marsh.”

“I disagree. But Cammie… one day you are going to see a future. You’re going to heal. You lived through the first time your world ended, and you thrived. You can do it again.”

A thin face peers down from the leaves. “You know, I think you’re going to be a great leader.”

“I’m going to try.”

Cameo nods, and smiles again, and it’s genuine, not borne from forced bravado. Jody smiles back, and turns to run home.

#zombies make #zombies run #zrs5 spoilers #cameo wood #jody marsh

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wordsandshawn · 5 years ago

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Before Now - chapter 13

previous chapters

trigger warning: descriptions of anxiety

13.

The crowd is going crazy, as usual, but tonight, my anxiety is going crazy too. Normally, the energy of the crowd makes me feel excited and eager to work, but tonight, it’s just making my thoughts spin out of control, and it’s making it difficult to focus on anything.

It’s a little past the halfway mark of the show when I realize that I need a way out. I’m not in the crowd exactly, but I’m very close to the crowd since I’m in the space between the stage and barrier that keeps the fans back. Shawn is just returning from B stage, so he’s running through the crowd. This is normally my favorite part of the night, and half the time I try running after him, since the fans are always extra excited when he’s close to them, and I like capturing the looks of pure joy on their faces.

Even after a few weeks, I’m still amazed by the interaction he has with the fans. It always seems magical to me, and I see the way that they’re always bursting with joy and excitement, which makes me happy too. But tonight, it doesn’t feel magical. It just feels intense, too intense. I know I need a way out, but I can’t seem to find one. There is so much security in this space, and even though the fans are still behind the barriers, I feel trapped. I want a way out. I need a way out. My camera falls from my hands, now dangling around my neck. It seems like my feet are frozen to the ground.

Suddenly, Shawn’s back onstage, the crowd is still going wild, and I’m struggling to breathe. I want to be okay, more than anything, I want to be okay. I can’t be here. I can’t stay here. But where do I go? There are ways out, and if I was thinking clearly, I would be able to find one, but I’m not. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I jerk away from the touch instinctively, feelings of terror course through me.

The screams are too loud to hear anything anyone is saying, but I look at the person. It’s a security guard. He’s trying to get me to follow him, but he looks like he’s afraid to touch me again. I don’t know why, but at this moment, I look toward the stage. Shawn is in the middle of singing, but he’s staring directly at me, his eyebrows knit together in concern as he continues to sing the words although he’s clearly distracted by me. When he sees me looking at him, he nods at me slightly and then moves his eyes toward the guard and tilts his head. I honestly don’t know exactly what happened in the last few minutes, but I could guess that Shawn somehow communicated to the security guard to help me, and I should follow him because I need to get out of here and clearly, I’m not doing a good job getting out by myself.

The guard leads me backstage, and I force my feet to keep moving, one foot in front of the other until I’m safely behind the stage where it is significantly quieter. It's only then that I realize that I haven’t been breathing. I force in a strangled breath of air, realizing how lightheaded I’m feeling, due to a lack of oxygen. That explains the foggy feeling.

“Miss, are you okay?” The security guard questions me, and I numbly nod. “Do you need anything?”

I shake my head, taking in another breath, “No, uh, I’m fine. Thanks.” I say before rushing away without any more words. I need to be alone. I need to gather my thoughts. I need to reassure myself that I really am okay. I need a safe space, and even though it’s not as loud back here as it is in the arena, there are still so many people rushing around, doing their jobs.

I just keep walking, Andrew notices me and tries to ask if I’m okay. “I’m fine.” Is all I can manage to say, but I don’t slow down, and when he can tell I’m clearly not trying to talk to him, he stops chasing after me and lets me continue on without him. He said some other things to me, but I really didn’t hear much of what he said.

I make my way onto the bus, which is empty since the show hasn’t finished yet and everyone is still working. The feelings of panic I experienced have mostly subsided by now. I just feel exhausted and drained, physically and mentally. I want to be alone. I want to be okay. Really, I want to be asleep.

Leaving my camera on the counter at the front of the bus, I make my way to my bunk and climb in, not even caring that I’m still wearing my regular clothes or that I haven’t gotten ready for bed at all. I kick off my shoes, leaving them in the walkway, something I never do, but I can’t care less right now. I close the curtain, letting the darkness engulf me. I roll up against the wall, pressing my body against the stable surface. I close my eyes. Sleep doesn’t come. There is still so much adrenaline coursing through my body that it doesn’t matter how exhausted I am, I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts spiraling. I keep replaying the day, trying somehow to pinpoint what went wrong, but I can’t figure it out. It doesn’t matter how tired I am, I can’t stop thinking and I can’t sleep.

I don’t know how much time passes, but I hear sounds signaling someone is on the bus. At least one person. It is strange though because normally everyone gets on the bus at once after the show, talking and overall just making a lot of noise.

When the curtain to my bunk slides open, I’m caught by surprise. I squint as the light from the hallway floods in. Shawn’s face appears near my bunk. He’s breathing heavily, like he just got offstage or like he ran here, or both. I don’t say anything right away, and from the few seconds of silence that pass with him just staring at me and me staring back, he doesn’t know what to say either.

“Are you okay?” He finally asks. This is the fourth time someone has asked me this today.

I don’t want him to say I told you so. He was right that I shouldn’t have shot the show tonight with everything that happened today and overall just how I had been feeling, but I am not one to admit weakness, especially not to Shawn.

“I’m fine.” The words fall from my mouth the same way they have so many times today, still just as untrue as every other time I’ve said them today.

He shakes his head, “You’re not.” He’s so sure, and part of me wishes he wasn’t. I don’t even know what he’s doing here.

“I’m just tired.” Another lie, but I want him to leave me alone. He knows that, but he doesn’t look like he’s about to budge. He let me off easy earlier, doing what seemed like the right thing by pretending he couldn’t see right through my bullshit and letting me do what I stubbornly insisted I could. This time, he doesn’t seem so willing to let it go, but I’m not about to tell him anything, so if this is a fight of stubbornness, I’m confident I’m going to win.

I just stare at him, my back now pressed firmly against the wall, I’m as far from him as I can get. After a few more seconds of silence, he hesitates. From the look on his face, he’s torn between pressing me for more information and just letting me be. The latter part wins out after a while, and I sigh in relief as he takes a step back.

“Well, uh, my doors always open for you, just so you know.” I nod, and he continues, his voice a whisper, “Ky, I’m serious. I know things have been crazy, but if you need anything, you can always ask me.”

I nod again, whispering, “Thanks.” Even though I know I won’t ask him for anything. He’s already done far more than I could ever ask for by letting me come on this tour with him.

The curtain falls closed, and I hear him in the hallway for a few more seconds before he leaves the bus.

I jerk awake, startled. I dreamt of the panic, and now I feel it. Suddenly, the safety of the small space of my bunk feels like it’s too small. It's closing in on me. I need a way out. I pull open the curtain and slide out of the bunk. My feet hit the ground with a soft thud. Looking down, I realize I’m still in the clothes I wore the day before. After talking to Shawn, I must have fallen asleep. I get out of the bunk to escape the trapped feeling, but even the hallway feels small. The bus is moving, so I can’t just walk outside into the night. The hall is only lit by the tiny lights on the floor that stay on all the time. Everything else is dark except a sliver of light coming from below the door that leads to Shawn’s room at the back of the bus.

My feet carry me back there before my mind has time to protest.

I knock lightly on the door. When no one answers, I assume Shawn’s asleep, and I don’t want to wake him. The space at the front of the bus is larger than the hallway, so I start walking up there. When I reach the front of the bus, I’m surprised to see Shawn is sitting there, almost in the dark, with only a small light on and his laptop in front of him.

“What are you doing up?” I ask, clearly startling him because he hadn’t seen me. He’s wearing his airpods and looking at something on his laptop.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He responds, taking one airpod out so he can hear me.

“I asked first.” I say, stubbornly.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He responds.

“What time is it?”

He glances down at his laptop before answering, “Almost two. What are you doing up?” He turns the question back on me.

“Bad dream.” I respond with a shrug.

He nods, saying, “Let me make you some tea.” He starts to stand, but I interrupt.

“No, I’m fine.” I say, but he insists, and I’m too drained to bother fighting with him about tea, so I let him go. I wait patiently as he starts to make the tea. Silence settles between us. I don’t feel as panicked now. I can be grateful for that, at the very least.

Shawn hands me a mug with tea in it before sitting down beside me. I stare down into my mug like I’ve never seen tea before and it is the most interesting thing I have ever witnessed, only because I don’t want to have to look at him.

“Skylar?” His voice cuts through the steady sounds of the bus racing down the highway.

“Hmm?” I question, still not making eye contact.

“I saw what happened during the show.” His voice is barely above a whisper, like he doesn’t want to say the words almost as much as I don’t want to hear them. I don’t know what to say, so I keep staring down at my tea and he asks, “Has it happened before?”

“Before today?” I clarify the question. Because it did happen before, today, but never like that.

“Before that time?”

“Yeah.” I whisper. I’d like to say we’re talking in whispers to be respectful of all the sleeping people on the bus, but truthfully, I think we’re talking in whispers because it all seems a little less intimidating if we whisper.

“When?” He questions.

“Earlier today.” As the words leave my lips, I look up at him.

His eyes widen with realization, “The interview.” He says under his breath. I just stare at him because it sounds almost like he just had a revelation, and I want to know what it is, but I won’t ask. He says, “You disappeared.”

“You noticed?”

He ignores my question. It was rhetorical anyway. “And that’s why you were acting so weird. Was it the crowd?”

I just shrug, because truthfully, I don’t know what triggered it. I wish I knew, but the loud, crowding swarms of girls at the show and the paparazzi outside the interview building probably weren’t helping, even if it wasn’t necessarily the cause.

“What was your dream about?” He questions, changing the subject. When I don’t answer right away, he asks, “Was it about that?”

I just nod, not in the mood to really talk. I’m not sure I can trust my voice right now anyway. I stare back down at my tea, and silence surrounds us once again.

“It’s overwhelming.” He practically whispers, and my eyes jerk up meeting his. They’re full of understanding in a way I wasn’t expecting. “The crowds, the people, the shouting, all of it.” He says with a small shrug.

“Do you…” I trail off.

He nods, “Yeah,” He says, honestly. “It used to be worse, but I’ve found some ways to cope better.”

All of a sudden, this feels too intimate. This is what I’ve been trying to avoid with Shawn over the last week. This is why I’ve avoided talking to Shawn at all.

I want to know more about how he learned to cope because that’s something I need to learn to do, but I don’t ask. I want to know what he went through and how he seems to understand what I went through and how I hadn’t heard a single thing about this before. There are a million different things I could have asked or said in response to what felt like a confession from him, but I don’t say any of these things. Instead, I simply say, “Oh, good for you.”

He nods slightly, catching the change in tone that was not subtle at all. “I, uh, I’m going to change and go back to bed,” I say, scrambling up off the seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the jeans and sweater I had worn the day before. “Goodnight.”

I barely glance back, but I hear Shawn’s, “Goodnight.” As I retreat down the hallway.

Chapter 14

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Peter Raul Mendes #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Peter Raul Mendes fic #Shawn Peter Raul Mendes imagine #Before Now

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blkgirlcafe · 5 years ago

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Home Pt. 6

Viktor Drago x Cyra (Black OFC)

Cyra (Ky-Ra) -Sun or throne

Kazimir (Kah-Zee-Meer) - Bringer or Announcer of peace

Viktor Drago is married to the love of his life, they have a 5 year old son. He is willing to do anything to keep them safe.

Warning: Kidnapping, abuse, mentions of child abuse

Flashback 5

After that encounter they didn't speak for weeks, they caught each other looking at each other, but for the most part they didn't say anything. One night she came in late, just as he was about to leave, he decided to stay and do a few more around. She went from cardio to free weights and finally her sit ups. As she was doing sit ups, a guy approached her, towering over her.

Viktor couldn't hear what he was saying but could see the panic on her face. The guy reached out to touch her hair, and Cyra tried to smack it away. Viktor abandoned the sparring bag, approaching her.

“Dostatnʹo.” Viktor spoke (Enough)

“tse vasha poviya Drago?” the guy laughed. (This your whore Drago?)

“Zalysh yiyi, i ya poshkoduyu tebe.” (Leave her alone and I will spare you.)

Viktor knew his reputation, he had a reputation for being an animal. All he knew was violence and no one wanted to mess with that. He had very little regard for life, his own or others, and people were afraid of that. The guy walked away grumbling, leaving Cyra alone.

“Thanks.” He helped her get up. Cyra dusted her hands on her pants, “Sorry for snapping on your a few weeks ago, I am just, I don't know.'' She gathered her stuff and started to walk out.

“Wait!” he didn't mean to yell, “I will walk you home.”

She smiled at him, “You don't have to.”

“I want to, let me get my stuff.” Viktor scrambled to grab his gym bag, stuffing his sweaty clothes in it. He opened the door for her, taking her bag as she walked past.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I really am sorry I disappeared for two weeks, I didn't want Ivan to make me.”

“It's so weird to me you call him Ivan and not dad.” she shrugged.

Viktor shrugged in response, it never occurred to him.

“I miss home, I miss my brothers.” She said suddenly. The whole walk home, she talked about her home, about her family. Viktor listened intently, he had only left Europe once and that was to fight Creed.

When they got to her apartment building he didn't want to leave her.

“Wanna come up, we got leftovers?”

He looked both ways, afraid this was a trick, that Ivan would show up out of nowhere. He followed her up the stairs, the building was a tad bit better than where he lived. He couldn't deny the apartment was warmer in feeling this and Ivans. Viktor left his bag by the door and sat on the small couch,

“I will be right back.” She disappeared into one of the bedrooms, coming back a moment later in shorts and a t- shirt. Viktor tried his best not to stare at her but it wasn't working.

“What are you looking at?” she asked him as she pulled food out of the fridge.

“Nothing.” he mumbled. She fixed food, warming it up in the microwave. She walked over to him, pulling him off the couch.

“You don't have to be shy around me.” she said softly.

Viktor's eyes searched her face, before he bent down and kissed her. They both were surprised, she took a step back, her hand still on his. Viktor snatched his hand away, rushing to the door, grabbing his bag and leaving without saying goodbye. He passed Cyra’s roommate on the stairs as he rushed out.

“What the fuck was Drago doing here, are you okay?”

“Yeah. I was going to give him food but he kissed me and then ran away.”

“Word, bro is weird like leave him the fuck alone.”

“Stop he just, he just...trying.”

“Yeah, trying to be weird. Anway, I'll eat his food.”

She grabbed the plate and sat down, Cyra looked out the window, he was already gone.

----

The fight was in a week, Viktor was stressed, he was barely eating, couldn't sleep. His trainer and manager were on his ass about the sudden change. Everyone wanted to know where Cyra was, why he had cheated. It pained him to lie, he would ever hurt her, or cheat on her. The sport gossip blogs picked it up, adding to his new persona of him being an boastful fighter. People came out the woodwork to, adding gas to the fire. His social media page had grew overnight, the comments ranged from accepts of his new identify to disbelief.

Viktor has never acted like this, fame has gotten to his head.

Finally Big Nasty, you have earned it, show them how nasty you can get.

The BDE is gold.

Cant belive he cheated on his wife, she fine as hell.

Yo he gone wipe the floor with his oppoent.

When he win there better be 50 bitches waiting for him in the back.

His manager shook his head, looking through the post. They had companies wanting to sponsor them at the last moment, but Viktor said no. there was already enough attention on what was going on. He sipped the protein shake that was pushed in his head at some point. He had to make weight.

Ivan walked into the office, wearing a smile, and Viktor just wanted to wipe it off his face.

“Lets train.” he said to Vikor.

“No.”

Viktor wasnt in the mood to train, wasnt in the mood to be around Ivan. The more days that passed without his wife home the worst he got.

“I wasnt asking you.”

Viktor stood and towered over his father, “You are a guest in my home, you are not my trainer and you are not my manager, act accordingly.”

If looks could kill they both would be dead, his manager came between them, pushing Viktor out the room.

“Why the fuck is he even here, I dont understand Vik, you can talk to me.”

Viktor just shook his head and went to his bedroom. He laid on the bed, pulling her pillow close, her scent very faint on it. Viktor ended up falling asleep, dreaming of his family.

Cyra was just out of his reach, he wanted to pull her close but each time he moved forward she moved back. Just behind her was Kazi, he was holding a toy, reaching out for him.

“Tata I want to come home.”

“Me too baby.” Cyra said.

“Baby I am sorry, I never wanted this to happen.”

They both faded away, Viktor looked around, trying to find her and Kazi. They had to be here, he could sense them, he could smell them.

Viktor woke with a start, drenched in sweat. He sat up, looking for his phone, hoping he didnt miss a call. There were no new notifications at all. He went to the bathroom, then down to the kitchen to find food, normally Cyra and Kazi would be down here, the kitchen and attached family room were their domain, Kazi toys were stored in the corner, Cyra bookcase took up a full wall.

The patio door was open and small snatches of conversation floated in, it was Ivan talking to someone.

“Chy dobre vony?” (Are they well?)

Viktor took a step back, moving light on his feet.

“Tak, vin lamayetʹsya, vin zaznaye nevdachi.” (Yes he is breaking, he will fail.)

Viktor heart was beating fast, was Ivan behind this, would he do this? But Viktor already knew the answer to that.

----------

They let her and Kazi out once a day, they would spend hours outside. Sometimes one of the guys would play soccer with Kazi, sometimes it was just them. She never thought of screaming or trying to run away, not wanting to risk Kazi. They would simply kill her, they would make sure he suffered.

Every few days she was able to speak to Viktor, she was allowed to call Trey, he stayed suspicious of everything. He wanted to see her, facetime her, touch her, anything. She kept the calls short, knowing her brother had the technology to find her.

Kazi had stopped asking when Tata was coming to get them. She was told his fight was less than a week out, which means they would be fine if everything went according to plan. Viktor kept up his public appearance of being a badass, all the interviews he did he was prideful and boastful, which was unlike him.

She just wanted to go home, get back to normal, whatever that would be after this. Kazi ran over to her, falling into her lap giggling. She was happy to see the smile on his face, he only smiled when he was out here. In the room he sat there, quiet, holding his toy.

He stood up in front of her, putting his hands on her cheeks, giving her forehead a kiss. In that moment she broke down crying, because it was the same thing Viktor did to her.

“Its okay mama.”

“I know baby. Mama sorry.”

He didnt move, peppering her face in kisses until she started to giggle, she feel back, and they laid on the grass looking at the sky.

She wondered what Vik was doing, if she knew her husband he was worrying. He didnt say much but boy could he worry. The backdoor opened and that was there cue to head back inside. She gave Kazi a kiss, picking him up.

Flashback # 6

Cyra avoided the gym for a few days but finally went back on Friday night. But there was no one there and that was rare. She approached the front desk, the girl behind her not even bothering to greet her.

“Where is everyone, this place is a ghost town?”

“Drago has a fight tonight, thought you would know that.” she rolled her eyes.

Cyra was use to the attitude of most of the local people, she get it, she didnt belong.

“Where?”

“No place for you.”

“I asked where, not your opinion.” Cyra gave the attitude back.

The girl rolled her eyes again, popping her gum, before writing it down.

“Starts at 9 Nehr.”

Cyra snatched the paper, knowing the slur that she was just called.

She rushed home and convinced her roommate to go with her, they had a hour. Cyra changed into jeans and a tee, finding her bomber jacket to wear. They took a cab to the location. They got weird looks the whole time, or she got weird looks. They found a seat third row behind the opponent side. The fighters made there way to the ring and Viktor looked like nothing she remember. His normally shy and bashful expression was replaced with a look of hate and violence.

The energy of the room was more than she could take, she wasnt use to this. People cheering for others to tear each other apart, people cheering for blood. The fight started, the first 3 rounds passing with hardly any damage. The 4th round his opponent got in a good hit, sending blood flying across the mat. Cyra stood, hands clenched in front of her.

Her eyes met Vik and he was hit again, she realized that she was distracting him and sat back down. Viktor pushed off the ropes, standing up and getting back in stance. By the 7th round she could tell he was tired, his punches lacked the force from the earlier rounds.

“End this and now!” Ivan shouted.

Viktor straightened his back, delivering nasty punch after punch, even when his opponent leaned against him, Vik just pushed him off delivering a devastating uppercut that had his opponent on the ground. The ref counted and the bell rang, the fight over. Ivan bound into the ring, holding up his son arms in victory, you would have thought he made the final punch.

The two exited the ring, Cyra pushed her way to the barrier that separated the crowd from the walkway.

“Vik!” he turned to look at her, right eye already staring to close. He walked over, helping her and her roommate over the barrier so they could follow him. Ivan was to busy trying to find the sponsor for his payout to notice.

Viktor led them to a small dressing room, her roommate waiting outside while she followed him in.

“You okay?” she asked stupidly.

“I will be fine, what are you doing here?”

“Came to watch you fight, duh, also wondering why you ran after you kissed me.”

His head dropped,”I am sorry…”

Cyra didnt let him finish, standing on her tippy toes and kissing him back. His shoulder sagged almost in relief.

Cyra bought her hands up to his cheeks, kissing him harder, wanting him to know it was okay, she wanted this too, whatever this was.

“shcho tse?” (What is this?)

They both looked over, Ivan standing in the door, Anna standing behind Ivan.

“I just came to congratulate him…”

“I am not talking to you girl. Lets go Viktor.”

“Dayte nam khvylynku, budʹ laska” Viktor spoke. (Give us a moment, please)

“No, lets go.” Ivan looked at her with disgust in his eyes. Viktor mumbled an apology before following Ivan out the door.

“Damm what the hell was that?” Anna asked.

“Nothing I guess.”

That night all Viktor could think of was her. Usually when he won a fight, he floated high off of that for a few days, but even that didnt matter, she did. He snuck out knowing that Ivan was passed out drunk.

He ended up at her apartment, knocking softly, Sarah answering the door.

“Ugh you again, its like 3am, little late for a bootycall. Wait here.”

When Cyra saw him, she stopped. Viktor thought she looked gorgeous, in just a tshirt, curly hair everywhere.

“Vik what are you doing here?”

“I came to apologize for Ivan, he doesn't have a reason to be mean to you.”

“You dont have to apologize for other people Vik.”

“I like you, I’ve never done this before, I dont know what to do.”

She smiled up at him, “You like me?”

“Yes a lot, you make me happy.”

She bounced over to him, hugging him around his middle, he winced from the pain, his ribs still sore.

“Sorry, you make me happy to Vik. Come.”

She pulled him into her bedroom, the light was flicked off but he could still see the touches of her. The makeup on the vanity, clothes slung over the back of a chair, a picture on her bedside.

“I swear to god yall better not fuck, these walls are thin as fuck, I can hear giantgtor breathing.”

“Don’t mind her, can you stay?”

Viktor shook his head quickly, not caring that he would have to face the consequences tomorrow. He pushed his sweats down, leaving him in boxers and tshirts and got into bed, she snuggled up to him, trying her best not to touch his bruises.

“Its fine, I am use to pain.”

“You shouldn't be Vik.” She kissed the underside of his chin, settling into a comfortable silence.

Viktor got no sleep that night, he stayed up all night watching her sleep, she never left his side. Her scent stayed with him even as Ivan chewed him out the next morning and made him change gyms.

-----------

24 hours before a match

It was time for the weight in and conference, Viktor always hated these. They obsessively tracked his weight the days leading up, to heavy or light and there was no fight, he had to stay in his weight class. He dropped a lot of weight since all this started, how could he eat without know if his wife and child were.

After he head the phone call between Ivan and who he assumed was Andriy, he knew that they would be okay, it was all a plan to get him to fold. Viktor would bet his life that both Ivan and Andriy had big money bet on this fight and they needed him to fold so they could get paid.

All the extra shit was just so he would be embarrass. He thought of he quote that Ivan had always told him when he was growing up, “A fool tells you what he will do, a boaster will tell you what they have done, The wise man does it and says nothing.” He never saw the need to be prideful. It just wasnt his way.

“You ready?” his manager ask him.

“Yes.” usually Cyra was here with him, behind the scene, being his cheerleader. He didnt need the huge entourage, the flashy clothes of jewelry, just her. Kazi would be with one of her brothers, watching from home.He wasnt allowed to watch the fights, but the weight ins no problem. All Viktor had on were boxing shorts, he followed his manager to the stage. Dozens of specters watched, cameras out, mics pointed toward the stage.

The announcer did the usual bout, introducing them. They weighed in, their weight checked before they took their respective seats, this was the part he hated, the interview.

Drago where is your wife, does she plan to support you even thought you cheated?

She will not be in attendance.

Why the sudden change, you did a complete 180 on us.

People change.

Needless to say fans are loving the new attitude, they think you earned the right to be boastful.

They are right, I haven't lost a fight in 5 years, I dont have anything else to prove.

For the most part he kept his answers short, keeping up the facade like he was supposed to.

Finally they were done and Viktor along with his manager and trainer went back to his room, that same room he would prep in tomorrow for the fight. Win or lose he was going home with 2 million dollars. If he won he was looking at 10 million, tack on what he would make from sponsorship it would be a nice purse.

“Viktor you look dead, I dont believe anything you said on that stage. Man what is going on?”

“Nothing.” he got dress and quickly.

With Ivan not here he asked to use his trainer phone, he went into the bathroom.

“Who dis?” Trey answered the phone.

“I dont have much time, I know who has Cyra and I think my dad is on it. Come by the house tonight.”

“Aigh bruh, Imma be there, but my sis and Kazi better be okay or I will make good on my promise.”

He hung up, deleting the call log. When he came out the restroom still no sign of Ivan, he gave his trainer back his phone and left, wanting to go home.

----------

Both her and Kazi watched the weight in, Kazi was quiet as he watched his tata on stage talking. Cyra hated seeing him like this, he looked awful, not his normal self. His eyes were dark, the same darkness she saw when she met him in the Ukraine.

He weighted in as normal, did the interview and rushed off of stage. She just wanted to reach out and comfort him. The day before a match she was always by his side, they needed each other in that way. They kept each other grounded.

After watching the weight in, she and Kazi had dinner. But Cyra wasnt hungry at all. They were given a bathroom run, allowed to take a shower, and her kazi sharing the shower to save time. Once back in their room they laid together while Kazi told her a story, like most children he had the most active imagination ever.

She wanted to tell him that tomorrow they would go home, that everything would be okay. But she didnt, know sure she could handle the disappointment if something went wrong.

#Viktor Drago #viktor drago x cyra #viktor drago x black woman #viktor drago x OFC #Cyra #smutty writer #smuttywriter #black writers

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chubbyooo · 5 years ago

Text

Blurred Lines: Cursed Past Chapter 84 - An Agitated Rest

yay a nice downtime chap mixed with some teasing Malora has a plan to find Zash but it requires people to take a break which is harder than it may seem

Kyradia made her way back onto her ship and took a deep breath she’d been doing a good job staying strong in the desert but she kept seeing flashes of Zash and that scene she saw, she shook it off and walked over to the table with Malora and Ashara, Malora began messing with some contraption.

Kyradia sighed “so Zash has escaped again meaning we’re going to need to catch up with her again” she certainly had become adept at running she supposed Zash had learned her lesson from a head on fight with Kyradia long ago

Ashara sighed “I can look for sightings of her but it’s unlikely to find anything” she was right they didn’t seem to be going to populated planets

Andronikos cursed “I tried to identify their ship leaving the atmosphere but I was preoccupied looking for you” Kyradia waved it off he had done the right thing after all

Malora tutted, still messing with the gadget “none of that will be necessary the acid I sprayed her with had emergency nanobots that should be able to track her location” Kyradia’s eyes widened. That was something you could do?

Ashara put her hands on her hips “why didn’t you say that before we could’ve tracked her location already” Malora didn’t make eye contact still messing with the gadget

She shook her head “because all you would’ve done is pester me like this while I make the relay which is going to take considerable time” Ashara looked furious but didn’t say anything

Kyradia questioned her “so these things are a permanent tracker on Zash?” Malora laughed a little and shook her head

She looked to Kyradia “unfortunately not I don’t have the tech available for non perishable Nanobots, they should remain on the burn for 48 hours however it’s likely that Zash has healed the burn so it could be less” Kyradia blinked understanding about half of that, tech had never been her thing. Malora clearly caught onto her confusion “basically I’m reverse engineering nanobots into a relay to track them but i have limited time” Kyradia nodded she thought she got it

Ashara piped up “and you can get it ready in 48 hours?” Malora rolled her eyes going back to the machine

She tutted “we have 24 hours first of all and yes of course I can, I can get it ready in 5 hours at worse” Kyradia had a feeling hiring a scientist was a good idea, Malora looked up at them “as long as I’m left alone so take a rest you all look like you need it” Kyradia had to admit that sounded good

She nodded as Andronikos took her hand “come on hun let’s have a break” Kyradia had to admit that sounded nice

She followed Andronikos into their bedroom and she took a deep breath “thanks for looking for us Andy sorry if I stressed you out” Andronikos smiled and squeezed her hand

He shook his head “it’s ok Ky I know you can take care of yourself” he brushed her hair “I’ll admit I was worried but I think that’s natural I’m always here for you” Kyradia nodded smiling

She scratched herself “I need to wash my face it’s covered in sand gimme five” she went into their en suite and began to wash her face looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled realising she’d hardly done this since before she called Ashara.

She closed her eyes for a second taking in all that had happened since then her fight with Kavaraa seemed so trivial now she wondered if she was ok wherever she was. But then the flashes of Zash came in again, how she just… killed them and delighted in it, Kyradia stumbled remembering a time she may have been just as cruel. She held the sink tight and breathed heavily she felt sick remembering it, it was still here the monster inside she didn’t know if she could keep it contained.

She opened her eyes and realised her hands were coursing with lightning and she shook them away noticing Andronikos looking at her “I-I I’m sorry I just” Andronikos shook his head and pulled her into a kiss

Kyradia felt herself calm down while Andronikos held her “don’t be sorry I know you’ve been through so much and you don’t have to tell me all of it just let me help you I think that did” Kyradia leaned her head against him holding him tight

After a long few seconds she spoke “yeah it did, do you remember what you promised me when I found you again” Andronikos nodded and Kyradia mumbled “can you promise it again” he kissed her forehead trying to comfort her the best he could

He nodded “of course Kyradia I won’t ever leave you again I promise I’ll be by your side no matter what” Kyradia nestled into his shoulder trying to keep calm

She stammered “e-even though I can’t give yo-” Andronikos cut her off before she could finish

He held her head and looked directly into her eyes “You’re the only family I’ll ever need Kyradia I’d rather have you than anything else I promise” Kyradia closed her eyes nestling back into him

Kyradia sniffed “Thanks Andy I love you and I’m so sorry” Andronikos continued to comfort her

He smiled “it’s ok Ky and it will always be I’m not going anywhere I promise” Kyradia began to calm down returning to normal

She smiled “thanks I uh I feel better now” she looked at him “I think I may need a proper shower and I wouldn’t mind company” Andronikos’ eyes widened as Kyradia smiled…

Outside Ashara was frowning at Malora as she worked on the device, Malora looked up and raised her eyebrow “can I help you Jedi”

Ashara shook her head “I’m just curious about this device and want to make sure it leads us in the right direction” Malora clearly didn’t believe her

Malora put her hydrospanner down “ok let’s say hypothetically you understood anything about science do you think that my level of science would make any sense to you” Ashara frowned trying to think of a response “and do you think in that scenario I would tell you anything, I’m not trying to outsmart you Ashara I don’t care what you people do I just want my bile back” Ashara folded her arms grumpily

She tutted “well I’m sorry for wanting to be safe, you may have been through a lot but your previous inventions have all been a little dangerous I thought I’d just make sure while Kyradia and Andronikos are busy taking a break” she looked over to their room “I wonder what they’re doing Kyradia seemed a little shaken up” Ashara wasn’t very good at waiting it seemed

Malora shook her head “they got past the serious talk a while ago I believe they’re engaging in strenuous sexual activity” Ashara eyes widened as she began to go bright red how could she talk about that so freely

Ashara stammered “What! Malora gross that’s my master why wou- what wou- I uh” Malora frowned not looking up from her device

She explained “based on the sounds, the locked door and their libidos I’d say it’s likely and I thought she wasn’t your master?” Ashara continued to stammer

Ashara took a deep breath “well no that just slipped out I’ll always look up to her a little but still why are you talking about it” Malora still hadn’t looked up from her gadget

She shook her head “you asked me what they were doing I gave you my answer I’m sorry I assumed you weren’t that innocent of a Jedi” Ashara frowned what was that supposed to mean

Ashara put her hands on her hips “well I’m not I know about that stuff but I don’t just talk about it like it’s normal it’s supposed to be private and special” Malora tutted at her rolling her eyes

She spoke “whatever you say Jedi I’ll refrain from using words that are too adult for you” Ashara scrunched up her face as Malora said that

Ashara stormed off “ugh shut up ok you’re insufferable” she continued storming off sitting down in a huff next to Xalek who appeared to be knitting, after a few seconds she asked “what are you knitting?” Xalek turned to her his icy exterior surprised to hear her ask

Xalek responded as coldly as ever “a pair of gloves better suited for my saber” Ashara nodded not really listening

Ashara started talking almost instantly after he finished “I can’t believe her you know she waltzes in like she owns the place and I try to help her and then she’s so grumpy about it” Xalek frowned

He asked “who are we talking about?” clearly the context was lost on him

Ashara gestured to Malora “Malora she’s such a know it all and she knows it” Xalek frowned looking over to her

He shrugged “she hasn’t bothered me I was worried she was trying to take my position but she’s pretty clear about her intentions I can respect that” Ashara sulked “if she annoys you just ignore her you’re the one who keeps pestering her” Ashara frowned

Ashara responded “well yeah but I’m just making sure she’s not a threat what if she’s dangerous aren’t you worried about that” Xalek considered it

He smiled deviously “if there is proper evidence of that I would delight in slicing her in half but until that day she has been rather helpful, I’ve been keeping an eye out” Ashara continued to sulk Xalek was not helping her feel better

Ashara frowned “I dunno she just always seems to know how to rile me up” Xalek shook his head

He continued knitting “then don’t talk to her you’re the one who keeps instigating the conversation” Ashara frowned but she had to keep an eye on Malora right “you seem a little obsessed” Ashara gasped clearly insulted

She denied the idea immediately “I’m not! I’m just cautious” Xalek nodded clearly not believing her causing Ashara to just sulk in silence

After a few hours Malora’s device seemed to whir to life and she grinned “perfect there you are Zash” she was getting sloppy they had to capitalize…

Terri watched as the planet of Ragna III came into view the planet was so lush and green which was a nice change from the last five planets they had been to, she looked over to Zash who had been scratching at her face

Terri frowns “are you ok Zash you’ve been acting a little strange since Savareen” Zash seemed to shrug it off looking ahead

She grumbled “that scientists poison was very potent I’m afraid your healing only did so much” Terri was still very scared of Malora but Zash had managed to beat them so she felt somewhat comfortable, she’d wanted to ask her about some of the things the commander had said but didn’t want to while she was in pain.

She piloted the ship down and Zash began putting on gear “I’d like you to stay on the ship for this one I’ve done some research and I think if the commander catches up to us again they may go for the ship” Terri frowned she didn’t really want to stay on the ship

She followed Zash to the ramp “but I can help Zash I know I had bad time on Savereen but you know I can help” Zash put her hand out as she started lowering the ramp

She smiled “I don’t doubt it Terri that’s why I trust you to look after this thing and keep it safe” Terri guessed that made sense as the ramp lowered Terri’s eyes widened as large furry bipedal creatures stood outside with familiar looking Rattataki in nightsister robes holding their chains and staring down at Zash. Zash turned around “and that's the other reason” she bowed before them

One came forward “what are you doing trespassing on this land” Zash seemed surprisingly prepared for this Terri guessed this was the research

She showed the list of ingredients from Ysum which instantly grabbed their attention “I am on the hunt for ingredients for a potion and believe we could strike a deal, I have done my research and there is word that you have a certain affinity for Magick” the sister walked up to her standing a good 5 inches taller than Zash

Mist surrounded her hand and a little flame emerged “and so what if we do we wouldn’t teach it to an outsider without something in return” Zash smiled clearly ready for this question she’d clearly learned her lesson from the first time they encountered the sisters

She folded her arms “I believe you know the name Ysum if I were to complete this potion I may put in a good word about how this colony helped me” Terri frowned knowing that was partially a lie, she guessed it was ok since Ysum seemed like trouble and so did these guys.

The sister considered it “this may be preferable come with us to meet our chief and we will discuss the details, but if you try to stab us in the back we will kill you” Zash nodded seemingly unintimidated

Zash chuckled “I wouldn’t expect anything less but I doubt that’ll be a problem” she turned to Terri tossing her a commlink “I’ll be on the comms Terri I’m trusting you to keep the ship safe we may be here a little longer” Terri nodded taking a deep breath she hoped Zash knew what she was doing with this Magick...

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colbybrocksmolder · 5 years ago

Text

Tumblr – Colby Brock x Reader

Tumblr is…a mixed bag. You’d made some of your closest internet friends on this poorly run website, but you’d also received more than your share of crazy fangirl hate. What’s crazy though, is how easy it is to make friends in the Sam and Colby fandom on Tumblr. 99% of everyone you’ve met is super nice and the group kind of shuts down the haters pretty quickly.

This last round of drama kind of wore everyone down. It all started with a hate anon that your friend DaddyDobrock received. “If Sam and Colby saw half of what you guys wrote on here they wouldn’t want you as fans 🙄.” She handled it well. She laughed and told the anon to lighten up and fuck off. You guys were pretty used to petty hate anons and rarely answer them, but boy was this asshole persistent.

Absolute-randomness-forever replied to a similar message with “If you don’t like what we post, don’t follow us?” Again, not really feeding into any drama.

Sp00kybrock got one trying to get her opinion on the whole thing. “Don’t you think most of the Sam and Colby tumblr fandom is toxic? Like, I bet Colby would cringe so hard if he went on this site. 🙄” She defended her friends, laughing it off. “My friends and I aren’t toxic. We post memes and joke around, but we support the boys 100%.”

Jakeywebber commented on a few of the new posts. “Does this person even watch the boys? They obviously don’t know that their sense of humor is exactly like ours.”

The anons continued to come in, a few other people getting them but not replying. They always ended with 🙄. The problem with one toxic anon is that they attract others that want to feed into the drama, and soon the hate is taken too far.

Someone got an anon telling them to kill themselves. Eye rolling emoji included. The blog posted the anon with no comment other than “deleting now” and went offline. To say that the rest of you were up in arms is an understatement. Lightenupbrock, that-one-brock-boy, badassbrock, the-sun-is-dark, colbyjacksmack, rewindfridaynight, xplr-lurker, brockboytrashz…you all jumped in and defended your friend. You sent them messages making sure they were okay, trying to convince them not to delete.

*Twitter notification* Colby Brock Tweeted : “FYI we see more than you think we see. Don’t pretend to be our fan and then treat other fans like shit. Especially anonymously. 🙄”

Daddydobrock posted “Anyone else see this?” with a screenshot of the tweet.

A few of the others reblogged it, adding comments. By the end of the thread, your group of friends was convinced that Colby either had a tumblr or occasionally lurked on it.

*tumblr messages*

Xplr-lurker : Hey, have you heard from the girl that got the kys anon?

You and Xplr-lurker had been tumblr friends for about 6 months. They messaged you after they saw how you interacted with the other blogs. You were always helpful, kind, encouraging…You had a reputation for being a sweetheart and Xplr-lurker had messaged you thanking you for it. You two became friends pretty quickly, asking how each other’s days went and such. Neither of you ever really posted your personal info on your blogs, but you knew a bit about each other. You both lived in Cali, you were about the same age, and you loved sending each other super emo tumblr posts when you were bored. Usually hella late at night. He knew you were a girl and you knew he was a guy. Other personal details kind of trickled through in your everyday interactions.

Y/n : Yeah. She doesn’t want to be online for a while, but she isn’t going to delete her blog. I gave her my phone number just in case she needed to talk.

Xplr-lurker : I figured you would 😊 I’m glad she’s okay.

Y/n : Me too.

Y/n : Hey, did you see Colby’s tweet? I think he saw all of this go down. I mean, maybe I’m just assuming too much, but he ended a tweet about anon hate with that stupid eye roll emoji just like the anon does.

Xplr-lurker : I mean, he said he checks his dms all the time. Maybe someone sent it to him?

Y/n : Maybe.

Y/n : Honestly, I’m just as mad for him and Sam as I am for the girl. How shitty is it that they have to watch the people who call themselves fans treat other fans like garbage? And they can’t do a thing about it.

Xplr-lurker : That sounds like it would suck.

Y/n : Right?

You had written a whole big post about how hypocritical it was for this toxic anon to accuse everyone else of being bad for the fandom when they were so willing to go out of their way to harm other fans. You reminded them about the videos Sam and Colby used to post about being confident and helping others. Their entire YouTube career started with them making videos wanting to help people. Just like every other post, you signed it with two black heart emojis. 🖤🖤

You had continued talking to xplr-lurker as you wrote the post. Venting a little bit about how frustrated you were.

*Twitter notification* Colby Brock Tweeted : “Don’t worry, we know there are amazing fans out there, too. 🖤🖤”

Y/n : Dude. I think I’m paranoid, now.

Xplr-lurker : What do you mean?

Y/n : Nothing. I’m exhausted. I just need sleep, lol. You do too, nerd. You said you needed to be up by 9 and it’s already 4am.

Xplr-lurker : Holy shit, my friend is going to kill me if I’m falling asleep tomorrow, haha.

Y/n : Haha, good luck! I’ll talk to you later.

Xplr-lurker : Thanks. Sweet dreams.

See, it’s pretty common for social media influencers to have secret accounts. It gives them a way to like posts and follow fans without starting drama. After collabing with CrankThatFrank, Colby was convinced to make a tumblr. He picked Xplr-lurker so that it made sense for him to interact with his own fans. He mostly just reblogged cool edits and funny traphouse memes. He’d comment on funny posts and throw his two cents in on theories and gossip. For the most part, it was kind of fun. People on tumblr were brutally honest but fucking hilarious. He never planned on talking about tumblr or letting anyone he interacted with on tumblr know that he was behind the username…but then he found your blog. He’d contemplated telling you for a few weeks now. The two of you talked almost every night and he felt bad. He felt like he was lying to you.

He’d first messaged you just to say a quick thanks for being so positive in the fandom, but the more he talked to you the more he kept wanting to talk to you.

The 🙄 anon stopped sending people messages after Colby’s tweet. Your friends on tumblr were able to go back to posting ridiculous screenshots and cool photo edits over the next week or so. You’d reblogged a gif of Colby about to lose his shorts on a waterslide with the caption “I feel like Elton has been trying to get Colby naked in vlogs since the start of TFIL”.

Xplr-lurker : *sent waterslide post*

Xplr-lurker : This is a fat fact. Lol.

Y/n : Right? Hahahahaha

Xplr-lurker : I think he does it for views.

Y/n : Probably. It’s the same reason Colby gets shirtless in his own videos. He knows people will click the thumbnail, haha.

Colby sat on his balcony laughing. You were absolutely right.

Xplr-lurker : Is that why you clicked?

Y/n : Haha, nah. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a beautiful human being. You’d have to be blind not to see that. But I found Colby through TFIL.

Xplr-lurker : What made you keep watching him then?

Colby felt bad for baiting you out, but his curiosity got the better of him. As far as you knew, he was just another fan. This is when he’d get your most honest answer.

Y/n : A lot. First, he’s a huge goofball. Watching him and his friends do dumb shit to make each other laugh is the best.

Y/n : And everything him and Sam have done together? Those two dudes are fearless. They just remind me that I’m the only one holding myself back, you know? One day I’ll actually get out of my own way and make something of myself.

Y/n : He also seems super genuine. He never seems afraid to speak his mind or call something like it is. It actually bums me out watching some of his “friends”, If you know what I mean. I know that not everything they put out there is 100% accurate to how they actually are in real life, but I hate that slimy feeling I get knowing that a lot of them use Sam and Colby and don’t actually give a shit.

Y/n : I know I sound like a massive fangirl at this point, haha. I think I just needed to get that off my chest.

Colby sat there trying to figure out how to respond. He had a huge grin on his face seeing you spill your guts like you did.

Xplr-lurker : Haha, don’t worry about it. You just sound like you care. That’s not a bad thing.

Over the next few weeks, you guys continued to talk like normal, but it got a little more personal. He wanted to be able to call you a friend, but he was still afraid to tell you who he actually was. You two talked more about your passions and the things you struggle with. You’d always sent each other music to check out, but he’d confessed that he’d been dabbling in trying to write lyrics. He needed to find a way to talk to you as COLBY and not xplr-lurker.

*Twitter notification* Colby Brock Tweeted : “You feel so close but in reality I’m sitting here on my balcony alone.”

One of your tumblr friends had screenshot the tweet, adding the caption “This is how it feels to have better friends on the internet than in real life.”

You reblogged it and tagged xplr-lurker. You added “I wouldn’t trade our late-night talks for the world.”

Xplr-lurker : *sent tagged post*

Xplr-lurker : Yeah?

Y/n : Duh. You know that.

Xplr-lurker : Same.

Colby sat there, his fingers hovering over the keyboard on his phone.

*Twitter notification* Colby Brock Tweeted : “1 like = 1 ‘don’t be a pussy’ whispered in my ear.”

Xplr-lurker : Not to sound like a creepy internet person, but have you ever met any of your internet friends in real life?

Y/n : Haha, I don’t think you’re creepy. And yes! I’ve met a few of them. Why?

Xplr-lurker : I know we live in the same city and I’ve always wondered if you’d want to get coffee or something.

Y/n : That would mean that you’d get to see how awkward and clumsy I am in real life. I don’t know if I’m willing to put you through that, hahaha.

Colby laughed. That response was better than the “fuck off, creeper” he expected.

Xplr-lurker : Oh, shut up. You’d be the one dealing with me being awkward.

Y/n : Suuuuuuure. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.

Y/n : I’m actually walking home from my favorite coffee shop right now, haha. It’s called 101. They’re open until 3 am and they have the best food.

Xplr-lurker : WHY ARE YOU WALKING ALONE SO LATE AT NIGHT?!

It was well past 2am and the thought of you walking the streets of LA by yourself kind of had Colby on edge.

Y/n : I live like 5 minutes away. Don’t worry.

Colby pulled up 101 Coffee Shop on his phone. It was less than a 10 minute drive from his apartment. *We actually live pretty close* he thought, switching back to the tumblr app.

Xplr-lurker : Tell me when you make it home safe. LA is scary at night.

Xplr-lurker : Also, that coffee shop is not far from me. If you ever want to meet up there, I’m down.

Y/n : I just walked in my front door. Stop worrying, mom.

Y/n : And I’ll be headed back there tomorrow around midnight. My roommate’s boyfriend is obnoxious and he comes over every night around then. I usually hang out at the coffee shop and work on stuff on my laptop for a few hours.

Xplr-lurker : I’m glad you’re safe. I’ll definitely try to make it there tomorrow.

Y/n : I’ll be the one with the messy bun, laptop, and baggy Y&R hoodie, lol.

Xplr-lurker : If I don’t chicken out, I’ll wear an XPLR hoodie.

Y/n : Well I need to go to sleep. If I don’t see you tomorrow, I’m sure I’ll still talk to you on here.

Xplr-lurker : For sure! Have a good night!

Y/n : You too. 🖤🖤

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.” Colby said, sighing. This was it. He was either going to walk into that coffee shop and blow his cover or he was going to chicken out like a little bitch.

The whole next day he had a hard time paying attention to anything or anyone. He was too busy trying to figure out the best way to tell you who he was.

“Colby!” Sam laughed, waving his hand in front of his friend’s face.

“What? Sorry.” Colby said, shaking his head and turning towards Sam.

“You okay?” Sam asked. Colby just stared at him for a minute. “I’m going to take that as a no?”

“I’m not, not okay.” Colby answered, sounding cryptic.

“Okaaaayyy.” Sam said slowly. “Care to explain?”

“I’m just nervous to meet up with someone later.” Colby tried to sound casual. “It’s nothing big. I’m just anxious, I guess.”

“Who?” Sam asked.

“A girl I met online.” Colby said, waiting for Sam to tease him.

Sam furrowed his brows. “Like on a dating app?”

“No.” Colby shook his head. “She’s a fan.”

Sam made a confused face. “Not to make it sound like I think you’re stupid, but are you being catfished again?” He laughed.

Colby couldn’t help but crack a smile, hiding his face behind his hands. “No, actually. I don’t even know what this girl looks like.”

“What?!” Sam asked, confused.

“That’s not the weirdest part.” Colby said, peeking through his fingers at his best friend. “She doesn’t know I’m me.”

“Is this for a video or something?” Sam asked, not understanding at all what was going on.

“Nope. I made an account to interact with fans and we just kind of clicked.” Colby tried explaining. “We’ve been friends for like 6 months, but we only ever talk through our usernames. The more I say this out loud the crazier it sounds.” Colby laughed.

“Sooooo, you’ve never seen a picture of her?” Sam asked.

“Nope. Not for sure. I THINK I found her personal blog, but I could be wrong.” Colby answered. “I only know her name because it’s in her profile, but she’s never asked me mine.”

“Is she going to be mad?” Sam asked, trying to wrap his head around the whole thing.

“That’s kind of why I’m so nervous.” Colby said, biting his lip. “She told me where she’s going to be tomorrow night and I don’t know if I should just show up or if I should rip the band-aid off and tell her who I am in our dms before we’re supposed to meet up.”

Sam had a blank stare on his face. “I honestly have no idea how to help you.”

“Don’t feel bad. I don’t know how to help myself.” Colby laughed.

“Tell me how it goes?” Sam asked.

“Of course.” Colby nodded, zoning out again.

At around 11:30pm you’d walked to the coffee shop. You ordered a drink and your late dinner and sat down in the corner booth. You worked on some things you were currently writing and gone through and caught up with your emails. At about 1am, you’d convinced yourself your tumblr friend had chickened out.

Right around 12:30am, Colby was stood in front of the coffee shop he was supposed to meet you at. There were only a few people currently in the shop, so it was pretty easy to figure out which one was you. He’d taken a deep breath and walked through the door, darting to the counter when he started to panic. With his back to you, he ordered a coffee. *I don’t even like coffee* he thought to himself. He kept peeking at you from the pick-up counter while he waited for his order. You had headphones in your ears, mouthing the lyrics to whatever song you were listening to. When the barista called out his name, he grabbed his coffee and left the shop.

Xplr-lurker : I’m stuck.

Xplr-lurker : You’re normally the person I go to for advice, but I feel like it’s unfair to put this one on you.

Xplr-lurker : You’re beautiful, btw.

You looked up from your computer, searching for your friend.

Y/n : Thank you? Are you here?

Xplr-lurker : I was. I chickened out. I kind of panicked.

Y/n : Aww, I promise you have no reason to panic. So why are you stuck? I’m always here to listen and give advice when I think I can help. You know that.

Colby sighed, sitting in his car.

Xplr-lurker : I guess it’s better just to come out with it.

Xplr-lurker : My name is Colby.

You waited a few seconds for further explanation.

Y/n : Okay? I don’t get it.

Xplr-lurker : Like, I am Colby Brock. I made this account to interact with fans.

Y/n : Please tell me you’re just fucking with me as a friend and not a delusional fanboy that’s trying to actually convince me he’s someone he’s not.

*Great* you thought to yourself. Not only did you have to walk home at night by yourself in LA, now you had to keep an eye out for a crazy person who wanted you to believe they were Colby. You thought this person was your friend and now you were afraid to leave the coffee shop.

Xplr-lurker : Neither? I know I fucked up by not telling you sooner.

Y/n : Well, since whoever is on the other end of this message knows I’m here alone, I’m going to call my roommate to pick me up. You know, you were really cool. You were my favorite person to talk to. This really sucks. You didn’t have to be anyone but yourself.

When Colby tried to reply to your message, the chat said that he had been blocked. “Oh, fuck.” He said, jumping back out of his car. When he got to the door of the coffee shop, he could see that you were packing up your stuff.

“Y/n!” he called from the door, walking towards your booth.

Your eyes flew towards the boy walking in your direction, your hands frozen holding your laptop.

Colby slowly slid into the other side of the booth you were sitting in, putting his phone down with the tumblr app open. “I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck?” you whispered, still not moving.

“You have every right to be mad at me and I swear I never meant to freak you out. I didn’t really think it through when I told you who I was. Is your roommate coming?” He asked, talking so fast you could barely process what he was saying.

You sat your laptop down and grabbed his phone. “My roommate wouldn’t come pick me up even if I did call her.” You said, looking at the tumblr app on Colby’s phone. You were the only person he had messaged.

“You were going to walk?” Colby asked, grabbing his phone when you handed it back to him.

“I was going to order an Uber.” You laughed. “This is crazy. You’re crazy.”

“Are you mad?” Colby’s face was apprehensive, waiting for you to tell him to fuck off.

“A little.” You nodded, laughing. “You asked me questions about yourself! I fangirled to you about you!” You remembered, covering your now blushing cheeks with your hands, hiding your face.

He laughed. “I feel the need to say this in person…You’re beautiful.” He watched as you peeked over your fingers. “And I’m the one that should be embarrassed about that, not you.”

“Why did you ask me to meet if you didn’t want me to know who you were?” You asked, remembering that this whole thing was his idea.

He laughed, reaching to grab one of your hands. “I’ve been trying to nut up and tell you who I am for over a month.”

“Why me? You didn’t even know what I looked like?” You were still trying to take in the fact that Colby Brock was sitting here in your favorite coffee shop holding your hand.

“I didn’t really care what you looked like. You’ve been a great friend to me since we first started talking and I was just some random person you met online…That has nothing to do with how someone looks.” He explained, blushing before continuing. “The fact that you’re also adorable is just an added bonus.”

You laughed, pulling your hand out of his so you could re-do your messy bun that was currently falling. “This is crazy. I want to re-read everything I’ve ever sent to you to make sure I didn’t make a complete fool out of myself.”

“Y/n.” Colby laughed. “You didn’t. I promise. There’s not a single thing you’ve told me that I don’t like.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell you were supposed to do now. “I have one question.” You said, leaning your elbows on the table.

“Ask away.” He answered, leaning forward the same way you were.

“What’s the REAL reason Elton always tries to get you naked in his vlogs?” You smirked, hearing Colby bust a gut laughing.

“Honestly, I’ve questioned it myself. The only answer that keeps me sane is clickbait.” He shook his head. “So, we’re good?” he asked.

“I mean, I don’t know WHAT we are, but I hope it isn’t bad.” You laughed.

“Well, we’ve been friends for over 6 months. I’d like to still claim that even though you know now that I’ve been a dumbass this entire time.” He smiled.

“I think I can deal with that.” You smiled back at him.

“Should I push my luck and ask you if I can buy you another coffee?” He asked, a shy look on his face. “I think coffee is disgusting, but I hear coffee shops make for great first dates.”

“You went from being afraid to show your face to asking me on a date.” You laughed.

“Well?” Colby said, waiting for your answer.

You nodded, your cheeks turning pink. “I’d love another coffee.”

I can remove any of the tumblrs I’ve used if you’re uncomfortable being mentioned. @daddydobrock @absolute-randomness-forever @sp00kybrock @jakeywebber @lightenupbrock @that-one-brock-boy @badassbrock @the-sun-is-dark @colbyjacksmack @rewindfridaynight @brockboytrashz

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock fluff #colby brock oneshot #colby brock fic

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