#I was stealing in the back of the auditorium in this dream

[peppermintspider]

Someone once said that you can’t read in your dreams but that is not true because I just had to read a three word sentence in front of a whole auditorium and it was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life

[sphvm]

a whole new world — sophia laforteza

sophia laforteza x fem!reader

tags: hate sex, fingering, semi-public sex, sophia’s mean, lil bit of praise, begging

masterlist

MEN AND MINORS DNI

the lights of the school hallways flickered above, students chattering excitedly about the upcoming auditions for aladdin. you had waited weeks for this moment, rehearsing your lines and brushing up on your vocal exercises. this time, you were determined to get the lead role of jasmine, and nothing would stand in your way. well, almost nothing.

sophia was the star of the school’s drama club. everyone knew it. with her outgoing personality and striking voice, she was practically born for the spotlight. last year's musical saw her take on the leading role as rapunzel in tangled, a performance that earned her applause and admiration from both students and teachers. it was basically undeniable that she would get the lead role again, but you believed in yourself and refused to let her reputation intimidate you.

after school, sophia had asked you to meet her in the auditorium. her tone had been sweet, almost rehearsed, as though she were putting on another performance. you couldn’t ignore the insinuation behind her invitation, you knew she wanted to size you up, to remind you of her status before the auditions even began. as the heavy double doors swung open, the dim light of the empty auditorium enveloped you, amplifying the anticipation in your chest.

she was already there, standing center stage with an elegance that was unmistakably her own. "hey! you made it," she said, flashing a bright smile, but there was something calculating in her eyes.

"yeah, i wouldn't miss it," you replied, trying to match her enthusiasm.

but the small talk quickly faded into tension. "so... i heard you’re really going for jasmine this year. brave choice," she said, tilting her head slightly, her smile turning sly.

you could feel the weight of her words pressing down on you. "i think i have a chance. i can sing the part, and i’m ready to take on the challenge."

she chuckled lightly, but it sounded more like a sharp intake of breath. "you know, it’s cute that you think you can steal the spotlight. it’s just—you’ve seen the past performances, right? i mean, come on," sophia said, her voice turning cold, a tinge of annoyance creeping in.

"and? am i supposed to just step aside because you’re the star?" you shot back, feeling brave. you’d practiced long enough, and you weren’t about to back down now.

"you don’t get it. i’m always the lead. that’s how this works," she argued, stepping closer, her confidence radiating like a spotlight beneath the stage lights.

"and that’s exactly why i’m going to fight you for it," you replied, meeting her gaze. the tension swirled around you, a blend of frustration and determination.

she took a step closer, looking down at you, making you feel a little smaller. “fight me for it? that’s a joke.”

strangely exhilarated by the confrontation, you felt yourself become more aggressive, your eyes narrowing as you pushed back. "i’m not scared of stealing it from you just because you’ve a brat that always gets your way."

“acting like you’d ever be better than me, all you are is a little girl with dreams that will never come true, wake up!”

in a rush of anger, you slapped her across the cheek. the sound echoed sharply through the empty auditorium. sophia’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but then a fierceness took hold of her features. her eyebrows furrowed and an ugly scowl plastered her face.

without a moment's hesitation, she stepped forward, closing the distance between you. she grabbed you tightly, shoving you against the walls of the stage. she crashed her lips against yours, a shocking mixture of anger and something deeper igniting between you.

you kissed her back instinctively, your heart pounding, all that existed was a mix of rivalry and something undefinable. she gripped your waist harder, her lips moving at a fast pace you couldn’t keep up with. you moaned into her mouth as your hands went up to tangle themselves in her hair. she tasted like strawberries.

she pulled away and when you opened your eyes, she looked even angrier than before. “you just fucking hit me.” your words were stuck in your throat, all you could do was stare wide eyed, your gaze moving from her lips to her eyes.

“god you’re a whore.” a low whimper escaped your throat.

her lips crashing against yours once again. her hands moved to your hair, pulling at the roots as she deepened the kiss. you moaned, your hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer to you. she ground her hips against yours, her fingers dropping to your waist, working to unzip your pants. you gasp as she slipped a hand inside, her fingers sliding up your slit.

"you’re so fucking wet," she whispered in your ear, her fingers moving in slow circles around your clit. you whimpered in her ear, your hips bucking against her hand. "do you like that, baby?" she asked, her voice low. “you like that i’m doing this?”

you nodded, unable to speak. she smirked, her fingers moving faster. "tell me you want it," she demanded, her fingers pressing harder against your clit.

"i-i want it," you breathed, your hips moving faster against her hand.

"beg me for it," she said, her fingers moving even faster.

"please, sophia, please.”

her lips found your neck as she pressed open mouthed kisses along it. “you won’t get the lead baby, so why don’t you show me what other noises that pretty voice can make?”

your hips moved frantically against her hand, as she slowed her ministrations down to a teasing pace.

"please," you begged brokenly, your body trembling, feeling the sweat drop down your back. "sophia..."

she chuckled darkly, her fingers stilled. "please what?" she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. "I want to hear it from that pretty mouth."

"please fuck me," you whimpered, your hands fisting in her hair. "please, just do it. fuck me, use me." she tsked, her fingers starting a slow circle. “i-i won’t audition for the—fuck!” her fingers suddenly entered your core, crying out at the sudden impact, your nails digging crescents into her shoulders as she impaled you on her fingers.

"fuck, you're fucking tight," she cursed, moving with a desperate frenzy. "you like that? want it rough?"

your only response was a muffled cry, your face buried in the crook of her neck. she took your mouth in a searing kiss, all thought fleeing as the sensations overtook you. all that remained was the two of you, your bodies slick with a sheen of sweat.

"god, yes..." you breathed against her lips, your words punctuated by moans of pleasure. "harder. fuck me harder..."

“you don’t make the decisions here.” she spoke, recapturing your lips, but nonetheless she obliged. her fingers slammed inside you with a newfound aggression. the sound of your slick was echoing in the otherwise silent room. it was just the two of you, but the thought that anyone could come in and find her fucking you dumb was exhilarating

there was only the slap of her fingers thrusting into you, the sound of your shared panting, and the taste of sweat on your tongue. you could feel your stomach tightening. and focusing on the way her tongue was sliding against yours wasn’t helping.

"please," you gasped out, your voice hoarse and raw. "please, don't stop..."

her lips left your mouth, her eyes were lidded and it felt like she was staring straight into your soul. “come for me, be as loud as you can. be my good girl, right?” she moved impossibly faster, adding a third finger and her thumb finding your clit. “you keep your eyes on me while you come,” she rubbed faster and faster circles until your body tensed and time stopped. waves and waves of pleasure drowned your body as you slumped against the wall. her fingers were still inside you as you finally came to.

she smiled sickenly sweet at you. “good girl.” she rubbed your cheek with her spare hand and kissed you, breaking apart with a click. “good luck trying to sing now.”

she pulled her hand away, licking the three fingers that were covered in your come, dripping down her wrist. you tried to argue back but found you couldn’t. you lost your voice.

[ink-n-shadow]

ik you have some konig bits hiding in your drafts, hand them over to us 😡😡😡😡😡🔪🔪🔪🔪

CINNAMONNNN ;-; pls enjoy the scraps of könig i have for you

TUTOR ME?

𝜗𝜚 pairing: nerd!könig x bimbo!popular!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: allusions to smut (minors—DNI), reader is described as fem (skirts, panties), slight creep!könig, mentions of wet dreams, panty stealing, unedited

like you're taking some molecular biology course at your local university because for whatever reason they require you to take at least one STEM course, and you just cannot for the life of you understand all the equations and formulas.

but you need to pass. you're not going to graduate otherwise.

so, as desperate as you are, you're immediately making a beeline for the dorm that everyone knows to go to if they need help with a class. in a short skirt and thin tank top no less.

and nerd!könig would have no idea what he's in for when he begrudgingly opens his dorm door, muttering under his breath for someone named horangi to "please leave me the fuck alone—i'm not doing your genetics homework for you again" when he peers down at the pretty little thing standing before him with big wide eyes and a wobbling lip.

"i know you probably don't know me but—"

only nerd!könig knows exactly who you are—i mean who wouldn't? you're one of the prettiest things walking around this campus, always smiling and giggling as you weave through crowds of people going to class and saying hi to almost all of them. you'd even been in a couple of his classes, always in the back of the auditorium and popping your fruity gum as the professor drones on about cell structures.

so instead of correcting you (and telling you that he knows exactly who you are because you plague his wet dreams night after night), he listens patiently to your plight, red curls falling in front of his glossy eyes as you beg and plead with him to help you out.

"please, könig? i'll do anythin'—i just really need to pass," you all but whine, lashes fluttering to keep the petulant tears behind your lids and heel digging deeper into the sickeningly grey dorm carpeting. "i'll give you whatever you want, just name it."

and of course könig agrees, says he'll tutor you free of charge because he didn't really need your money anyway. not when he's gonna be stealing your panties from your dresser at least.

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[super-unpredictable98]

Much Ado About Nothing (OC X Canon Week 2025)

Cowritten with @mrprettywhenhecries for @theocxcanonweek

Word count: 1,3k | Prompt: Jealous much? | Pairing: Roberto Sobal x Lydia Bellamy

Warning: none

A/n: Beto is a character I've been very into and my partner in crime indulges me like I do for them lol. If anyone is wondering, Roberto Sobral is a protagonist from the Brazilian telenovela Garota do Momento (which apparently it's called She's The One in English). Hope you all fall in love with him a little bit hehe

[Masterlist]

Tony Curtis had just been in Some Like it Hot, he was on top of the world and now he was invited to be Benedick in a new production of Much Ado About Nothing at the Apollo Victoria Theater in London.  

His Beatrice is a promising young actress who just graduated from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, Lydia Bellamy, who chose to keep that stage name despite getting married a couple of months before to Roberto Sobral.  

"Will you pick me up after rehearsals today?" She asked, finishing her tea in the morning.

“Of course,” Beto exclaimed, pausing to press a kiss to her temple as he passed, putting his coffee cup in the sink, the morning newspaper tucked under his arm.

"You haven't been teased for being married to an actress have you?" Lydia asked, a little upset by that thought. "People think that's not a job for family women, but you know that's not true."

"Of course I know that's not true," he said with a frown, setting down his paper and gently rubbing Lydia's arms. "You know I'll always support your dreams and I couldn't be prouder of you," he insisted.

"Thank you, honey," she smiled, giving him a little bag with his lunch. "I packed last night's roast with potatoes for you. I hope you have a good day at work."

"Thank you doll, you're the best," he exclaimed, peeking into the bag before rolling it back up. "Break a leg at rehearsal, babe. I'll see you tonight," he added, catching her round the middle to steal a kiss.

"Thanks, Beto, see you later," Lydia waved as he left.  

She washed the dishes and got her own lunch before leaving to rehearse at the Apollo Victoria for the first time, since they had been using a drama school studio until that moment.

Later that afternoon, Beto leaned back in his chair, raising his arms above his head to stretch. Glancing up at his watch, he gave a start.

"Oh damn, I gotta go pick up Lyds," he grunted, pulling his finished article from the typewriter to deposit on his boss's desk and grabbing his camera bag.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," he called to his coworkers, waving away their teasing comments about his actress wife, barely listening as he hurried for the door.

When he arrived at the theatre, he slipped inside and nodded to the security guard before heading to the auditorium, hoping to catch the tail end of Lydia's rehearsal.

His wife was still performing the dance number to the sound of Sigh No More with the other actors. She didn't even notice when Beto arrived. When the song ended, Tony kissed her, which was on the script... what wasn't on the script was his tongue in her mouth, so she pushed him off.  

"Hey! No! If you ever put that tongue in my mouth again, I'll bite it."

Beto was about to take a seat in the front row when he saw his wife push Tony off her and a wave of jealous anger crashed over him. Before he realized it, he was climbing the steps to the stage two at a time, his face a thunderhead.

"Hey! You! Yeah, you!" he called, striding toward the actor, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he stepped in front of Lydia to face the other man. "You touch my wife like that again and I'll--I'll--" Too enraged to even finish his thought he pushed his rival back.

"It's okay, Beto, calm down..." she put a hand on her husband's chest, worried about what he was capable of doing, but Tony seemed to think everything was pretty amusing.  

"Come on, man... I can't believe you're getting this worked up because of a stage kiss. You do know we'll have to do this every night, right?" He chuckled. "And twice on weekends."

If possible, Beto's face reddened even further, his brown eyes flashing. "Don't play coy," he huffed, standing his ground. "That was more than just a stage kiss and you know it!"

"Your loss, babe, girls would kill for that," he winked.

"You can't be this insecure and married to an actress," Tony scoffed.

"Shut your mouth!" Lydia scolded. "You put your tongue in my mouth and I don't like it!"  

"You violate my wife again and I won't hold back," Beto threatened, squaring his broad shoulders and stepping up to the other man, using the few inches he had on him to glare down at him.

"You can't touch me, big boy," Tony poked his shoulder.  

"Leave him be, don't buy into his taunting," Lydia whispered to her husband. "Let's just go home, alright? Take a deep breath, it's okay."

For a long moment, Beto didn't move, his nostrils flaring as he breathed through his nose. Gritting his teeth, he stared the actor down a second longer before finally taking a step back and letting Lydia pull him away.

"Hey, I'm sorry you had to see that," she murmured as they went back to her dressing room to get her bag. "But don't mind him..."

"How can I not mind that?" Beto demanded, throwing his hands up and pacing the length of her tiny dressing room. "I can understand needing to kiss another man for a scene, but that--that was more than just an innocent stage kiss!" He exclaimed.

"I know, I know... but you saw it, I pushed him off, I didn't want any of that. I only like you, my dear," Lydia smiled softly caressing his blonde hair and his freckled cheek.

He softened slightly, leaning into her touch. "I know--I just--it made my blood boil knowing he thought he could get away with that," he said, his brows furrowing.

"Jealous much?" She chuckled. "I know, my blondie is a feisty one. I think that's very attractive, but I don't want you getting into a fight."

Beto's lips pressed into a line, but he didn't argue. "Well, if he pulls another stunt like that, I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself," he huffed.

"I know, but it'll be okay. I'm sure he won't, you are a pretty big guy, nobody would want to get in a fight with you. I think he got the message."

"Yeah, he better remember that, because if you tell me he tries to take advantage of you again, I don't know what I'll do," he grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"The producers wanted me to pretend that I have a real life relationship with him, I shut that down really fast," Lydia chuckled, sitting by his side on the couch.

“They what—?” Beto exclaimed, gaping at her. “Jesus—“ he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Don't worry, I told everyone I'm married, I even told the press. They can't make that work even if they wanted to," Lydia leaned against him.

The tall blonde wrapped his arm around her, tucking her head under his chin. “I love you, Lyds. So much.”

"I love you too," she closed her eyes, just inhaling his comforting scent. "You don't ever need to worry, but I do appreciate you defending me."

“I’ll always defend you, I’m your husband,” Beto murmured, rubbing her back. “Why don’t we get home and put all this behind us?”

"Yeah, that sounds good. I can't wait to have you all to myself," Lydia kissed her husband lovingly.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he drawled, his lips curving.

[zponds]

(Credit goes to JWBtheUncanny on Deviantart)

PreCure Allstars Multi World Garrison Mantles 16-1

In light of the Event's of the Meeting the Marvel Heroes Illuminati and PreCure All Stars Held in Aozora Middle School's Auditorium on 07/11/21, learning of Gaito's true intentions of Planning to Gain the Power of the Aquarian Gods and may plan on Stealing the Cthonic-Tridens behind the Witch of Delay's Back with them Speculating He might plan on Betraying the Witch, It has now become a Priority on preparing for what ever Gaito might have planned in the near future, Knowing that Tropical-Rouge PreCure will have to journey to the Grand Ocean sooner of later, Cure Mermaid Advices that She with Poseidon, Dr. Strange, Caren, Noel and Coco accompany them, Not only to bring some of there Allies (Thrall, Jaina, Anduin, Baine, Aerith, Yuna and Prince Noctis) home, But also to Warn the Mermaid Queen of what Gaito is planning. (Whish will be the 14/11/21)

On a Special side note of when they Return, Cure White and Cure Magical Ask the Group to Participate in trying our there new Multi-World Garrison Mantles, that they will Ultimately and officially dawn in there Initiation into the All Stars Pantheon (Finally for filling Tropical-Rouge PreCure's Dreams of Joining the Pantheon to bring honour to M91).... Chloe of the Pokemon World Explains that They are Upgrading the Mantle Cloak's that will give them Protection against Dark Magic that can Steal Energies from the Body... Including Motivation... Which will give PreCure a Advantage against Gaito's and Davy Jones Faction with the Army of Malodia Backs them up to Reclaim the Grand Ocean, Leaving Tropical-Rouge PreCure to Focus on the Witch herself, That's what I can speculate at this point.

This First Pic shows us Manatsu Natsuumi / Cure Summer and Laura / Cure La Mer wearing there Mantle Cloaks, For Cure Summer's since her theme is Tropic and is more White and Rainbow for Theme Colour (Pink on sub areas) So I wanted her Cloak to make that with Mermaid's on the Edges.... and in the Inside of her Cloak, Want it to feel like looking into the the Night Sky on a Tropical Island, As for Cure La Mer's Cloak, Wanted to fill in the fact that since she's Destined to be the next Queen of the Mermaid Village, Why not replicate what I did when it came to Go Princess PreCure's Mantle Cloaks (With Poseidon and Cure Mermaid giving there input on it) and if you look closely, You will see that on the side are Shell's that are Pink, Light-Blue, Green, Purple, Dark-Blue, Yellow and Orange, The Shell's represent that Cure La Mer has been Blessed by the Seven Mermaid Queens of the United Kingdom of Melodia (AKA the Princesses from Mermaid Melody) For the Badge, I wanted to make it that Aquarian feel like it's not only native to V85 but also M19 as well.

Hope MLPFan053 and DeviantMaster2014 like these designs.

Also.... There's one thing about Tropical-Rouge PreCure's Home world I always keep getting wrong my Mistake.... I keep calling it M19 instead of M91 when I sometimes do Pics.... This have been happening on me and MLPFan053 is the only one able to point it out for me so I could Correct it in the Typing, I'm hoping when I do M91's Colony leader Cure Marina... I'll officially get it right.

[forrestfanfics]

So This is Love || Civil War 13: “Self-Cooking Hot Dogs”

“So This is Love” Masterlist

Previous Chapter  ||   Next Chapter (Coming Soon)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Captain America: Civil War

"To generate, disseminate and preserve knowledge. And work with others to bring it to bear on the world's great challenges..."

The sparkle in my eyes couldn't be more apparent as I recited the statement alongside the mass group of students and professors in the auditorium.

I stood backstage, watching through the small gap in the curtains, as I wasn't allowed to show my face to anyone besides the select staff members.

"Well, you are the others. And quiet as it's kept, the challenges facing you are the greatest man kind had ever known." My dad was standing dead centre of the stage, giving his speech, where each word was provided by a teleprompter only visible to himself.

MIT... My dream.

I would've been in my third year there if I hadn't struggled so hard with Aeronautics.

But I'd be starting my first year in September and with the exhausting amount of preparation my dad put me through the past year, I passed the test with flying colours...

"Plus, most of you are broke."

Laughter came from the crowd.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Rather, you were."

Okay, well. Exhausting preparation and a comically large hypothetical check.

"As of this moment... Every student has been made an equal recipient of the inaugural September Foundation Grant. As in..." Pause for dramatic effect...

"All of your projects have just been approved and funded."

A round of applause from the students.

"Absurd."

I turned to the man who spoke next to me. A tall, skinny man in a black turtleneck with the ugliest, nastiest look on his face directed at the back of my father's head.

"Dude, you're kinda ruining my vibe here-"

"This was mine. All my hard work. And he makes a fool out of me. How can he stand there without a care in the world like he hadn't just taken credit for and mocked my life's work in front of all these people? BARF? Look at him! A pathetic man like him shouldn't take geniuses like me for granted," he spat every word like it was poison.

"You work for my dad?" I asked monotonously.

The scowl on his face disappeared when he looked at me with a bit of shock. "You're Y/N Stark?" He asked so casually. As if he wasn't just insulting my father to my face. "My name is Quentin B-"

"Yeah... I'm sorry, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. Especially those who talk shit about my dad and his work," I waved my hands up in defence, turning to walk away when his hand got hold of my forearm. My head snapped back at him, chills running up my spine as the hairs on my arm stood up from the strange fear I suddenly felt around this man.

"You think you can help me out?" He asked like he wasn't just insulting my father a second ago.

"What?" I scrunched my nose, attempting to pull my arm away, but his grip was iron and my wrist was starting to ache.

"Put in a good word? Convince him my project is worth the care? Convince him to reimagine its purpose in the way I intended it! And for God's sake, give me the credit I deserve!"

"Please, let go of me," I said, trying to sound calm when in reality everything about this screamed danger.

"He'll listen to you. You're his little girl. He'll do it."

"Please stop!" I finally managed to claw his hand off of my arm and shove him back. "Don't ever come near me again," I warned with a shaky voice.

Before he could call out to me, I booked it, rounding the back of the stage to the other end just in time to see my dad being bombarded by the Dean rambling.

I took a moment to hold my hand over my chest, breathing heavily and shakily as I gently rubbed the part of my wrist he held.

Whoever the hell that psycho was, I hoped what he said wasn't true.

From what I was aware, that project was meant to act as some kind of therapy for my dad.

The idea of him stealing some guy's idea and passing it off as his own made me sick to my stomach.

I thought back to when he was first showing it to me. It was his way of introducing me to my late grandparents.

"They would've loved you," I remember him saying.

Sick. Absolutely sick. I refused to believe it. Why should I? He could've been lying to get me to talk about him with Tony Stark. That guy probably didn't even work for him.

My intrusive, distressing thoughts came to an end when I heard the conversation between my dad and the Dean.

Well, the one-sided conversation the bald guy was having with Tony.

"Hear me out, I got this killer idea for a self-cooking hot dog-"

My dad's eyes landed on my approaching figure and got hold of me, only to push me between him and the blabbermouth.

I took the hint and pulled the Dean aside while my dad spoke to another staff member.

"We'll catch up later!" He said to Tony as I dragged him away.

"Hi, my name is Y/N Stark. Tony's daughter. It's very nice to meet you, sir. Say, what's this about a self-cooking hot dog? Maybe I could pitch it to the old man," I gave my best fake smile and the most chipper attitude I could muster as the guy in front of me beamed.

"Oh, why, it's very nice to meet you, Miss Stark. As you're aware, I'm the Dean around here. I actually have a lot of questions. Like, why were you hidden away for 15 years? Do you know what a pedicab is? Because let me tell you, I know a great guy who can hook you up, and maybe I could-"

"Get on with it," I shook my head when I realised my dad was already gone.

"Right. Hot dog. Basically a chemical detonator embedded-"

"Say, why don't you e-mail me, huh? Here's my card," I smiled even wider, plucking out the random business card I grabbed in the lobby and placing it face-down in the palm of his hand.

"Oh, wow! You just gave me your number. There are so many things I want to discuss with you and your dear old dad."

"Yeah, yeah. I gotta go," I jerked back, going to move when I noticed something and stopped myself. "You look very familiar." I pointed out.

"How so?" He asked, tilting his chin up to the side.

"Probably just look like some character... I watch way too much TV," I shrugged and left to go after my dad.

"Wait! Which chara- Miss Stark! Which character?!"

●    ◉    ◎    ◈    ◎    ◉    ●

"Dad!" He was standing in front of an elevator down the hall when I found him. There was a woman who eyed me before saying something to my father and walking away.

"Hey," I greeted as I approached. "Oh my God, who was that guy?" I chuckled. "I know you don't want me throwing around my name like that to just anyone, but I'm really reconsidering that self-cooking Hot dog idea. Sounds like a million dollar investment."

The smile on my face faded when I noticed the dread on my dad's face.

"What happened? Who was the lady?" I asked, glancing down the hall to where the lady disappeared.

He seemed to be deep in his thoughts. But his face only showed horror the longer he looked at me.

"What?" I asked before I was abruptly brought into an embrace.

"I love you," he whispered into the top of my head, planting a kiss in the same spot.

The sudden impetuous affection ceased my working mind, clearing my head of any thoughts as I tried to digest the action.

Whatever he was talking about with that lady made me wonder what exactly was going through his head at that moment.

I decided against trying to come up with an answer for receiving unprompted affection from my dad, and wrapped my arms around him.

"I love you too, Dad."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[polyphonetic]

Last night I dreamt I was time traveling with the 12th Doctor (Peter Capaldi). However, he was a stacked hot older woman (still he/him) and we made out a bunch and that was pretty funny. He would keep resetting the timeloop, but I had special goggles that would update my memory each time, so we could save time as well as save-state particular repetitive parts of loops. It involved stealing stuff from my estranged father's office as well as his truck for some reason.

I remember driving around dark fields in a vehicle, dodging missles from weird roaming contraptions, searching abandoned grocery stores for food and a special type of wet food for my cat.

This afternoon I had a dream that there was a door in a basement of a house in a rural field. I and a bunch of other people my age would go through it, and it was a portal to this endless plane with black skies and precarious pathways built over bright flowing lava. There were these glowing cats that lived around and they were cuddly and immune to the lava.

However, there became a faction of the other people that wanted to create some sort of right-wing revolution somehow involving living in the endless Nether world (that grew increasingly dangerous to humans as you strayed further from the entrance). A five year old kid who was naively radicalized activated a mechanism that formed these massive metal doors that started to close before the basement entrance, but I was able to hold open the doors and call desperately for everyone to escape.

Afterwards, I tried to deconstruct parts of the door to see if there was any way for someone to escape from the inside should they be trapped within, but the material paradoxically folded endlessly upon and into itself, and was a one-way entrance. Additional doors would also generate to prevent people from holding them open. Despite this, some people of that faction were still compelled to enter and explore, shaming me the whole time.

There was a wild search for potential keys around the property before people entered the lava abyss, as a chance to escape after an entrance. An uncle-ish man saw me taking some of his tools, and asked what was going on. When I explained, he took me to this rounded staircase structure, with a long metal pole in the center pointing down towards a sort of porthole to the abyssal plane.

He showed me deeper layers of that plane, how it transforms into a cerebral-fluid-like sparkling black sea of consciousness, weird bones, and other body structures, before it folds in on itself and exits. I decided I had to enter the plane after that group with him to try to save them.

I crawled down some weird furnished ventilation tunnels towards the exit, and this is where things get fuzzy. The scene shifted to this massive auditorium full of thousands of mages seated along a slope, and one by one disappearing, until I, the final one shifted with the rest into this "graduation" room. I exited this room full of mages to this other room filled with tall vetical strings connecting the floor and ceiling, millimeters apart from each other. Before an instructor, I danced through these lines of energy, focusing my attention on the subtle black coloring on parts of the strings, that while I danced seemed to be animated, and I danced by following these shapes like we were dancing together. These shapes became more detailed as I twirled faster, becoming colored and more realistic, and I danced my way back to the rural field outside of the house which contained the portal.

I looked around the world, and I had a deeper understanding of the material 2D planes that constructed it. I could see vertical and horizontal planes everywhere from which you could see the clouds and nature and could step through them and understand how my world worked. It was like moving in 4 spatial dimensions around my world while still being able to interact with it. At the same time, I saw the former party who had entered the portal, who stumbled deep enough to fall back into this world, but they were blind with eyes that could only now see the abyss they had desired.

[piermanwalter]

I had a dream I was getting a Master's degree in literature and there was a series of classes where we had presentations in pairs due every few months. Early in the year, one pair couldn't get their report done on time, had to ask for an extension, still didn't finish it, and had to take the 0 grade, which would be totally normal and inconsequential if one of the pair didn't put the other on blast over it every subsequent class.

In presentations, she'd say, "This was really easy to read and annotate with my partner, UNLIKE MY FIRST PROJECT where my partner- She- She knew. She KNEW. She knew I was sharing my favorite book of all time with her. And YET! When we reached the most important part- She didn't want to read it! She skipped back to the beginning to start over! And she KEPT doing it-" and then the professor would cut her off. Whenever we were hanging out before class started or had some kind of discussion during class, she'd walk all the way across the auditorium to her first partner and loudly say things like, "All the shame I will feel for the rest of my life will be a fraction of the shame you made me feel when you disrespected my favorite book so badly." When the first semester ended, she kept up throughout the next class in the series, and after summer vacation, she continued next year. Her first partner never responded or reacted in any way beyond an increasingly exhausted look on her face.

People asked her what the book that inspired her to such passionate fervor was, but she said she wanted to keep it to herself and indirectly promote its influence by living by its core tenets because she couldn't bear someone else disrespecting it. Her first partner knew, but to her credit, also never shared what it was.

Near the end of the second year, we finally found out. It was a borderline illegible 10-page black and white bootleg Chinese Tom and Jerry parody comic from the 1980s where Tom and Jerry were soldiers who went AWOL by stealing a plane, but started arguing mid-flight and crashed and died.

[di-daynamic]

Part 1 of 3

Adrinette April: Day 8

“And the winner of the first prize is. . .” The anchor paused, and everyone in the auditorium collectively held a breath. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Marinette smoothed her skirt down as she stood up to head to the stage. Her heart burst with excitement. Alya whistled, and her parents and Juleka applauded enthusiastically.

The trophy was heavy in her hand as she held it up to rousing cheers. Two months of mind-bending work now felt absolutely worth it.

“As you all know, the prizes include a cash sum as well as an internship opportunity. . .” The anchor continued. “And we are proud to announce that Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will get the chance to intern at Gabriel!”

Marinette gaped in amazement. She heard the four other winners gasp and mutter in envy. Gabriel was notoriously exclusive with its internship opportunities. Marinette wouldn’t have any trouble getting into an art school after an internship there. She hadn’t even finished lycée. This was something out of a dream.

“Way to go, girl!” Alya laughed, hugging her as she stepped off. “Gabriel! That’s ridiculous!”

“Also a callback to our college days,” Juleka muttered, and then smiled at her. “Congrats, Marinette.”

Marinette couldn’t pretend her mind didn’t jump to Adrien every time Gabriel or the name Agreste was mentioned. A mix of nervousness and excitement caused her stomach to turn as she considered the prospect that she might be seeing Adrien more regularly. Then she shook herself out of it. Adrien had always hated being associated with his father’s company back in college, and there was no indication that that had changed.

“Thanks, Jule,” she said mildly as her parents swept her up.

“We’re so, so proud of you Marinette!” Papa said, beaming.

“Congratulations! Gabriel is such a prestigious posting! You certainly deserve this after all your hard work,” Maman said, taking up her hands.

“Thank you!” She laughed.

“Hey, Mari, I see some people you’ll be wanting to talk to,” Alya said, pointing at the stage. Marinette turned and gasped. Alya was right. There were several CEOs and fashion business and modeling agency representatives.

“Right! I’ll see you later. Come on, Juleka.” She dragged her protesting friend over to the people laughing and chatting by the stage.

“Ah! Mlle. Dupain-Cheng!” Alessandro Lesatz smiled at her, and Marinette just about died on the inside. “Congratulations on your win. I saw your portfolio, and I must say I wish to steal you from the Agrestes.” He noticed Juleka as Marinette blushed and thanked him. “Ah. Your model?”

“Yes,” Marinette nodded, “This is Juleka Couffaine.”

“Luka Couffaine’s sister!” Mlle. Rivera scrutinized the girl. “Well, you do good as a model. Would you like an interview some time?”

As Juleka stammered out a stunned answer, Marinette began to schmooze. She got half a dozen business cards and scores of compliments on her work, and even a few critiques. She hoped she took them all with a grace befitting someone about to intern at the most famous fashion company in the city. A couple actually gave her constructive feedback about something to improve on rather than just derision, which was useful even though disheartening.

“I’m so happy for you Marinette!” Tikki giggled, zooming out of her purse as she climbed up the trapdoor to her room after a celebratory dessert with her parents.

“Did she win? Did she win?” Pollen demanded.

“Right here, Poll,” Marinette smiled at the kwami. “And yes, I did. First prize!”

“Yipppppeeeeee!” Mullo and Kaalki screamed.

“Congratulations, Master Marinette,” Wayzz said sagely. “Didn’t you say an internship was also part of your prize?”

“Not just any internship, an internship at Gabriel!” Tikki said excitedly.

“Oh, this is so exciting!” Xuppu squealed.

“And romantic!” Added Ziggy.

“What? Why is that a big deal?” asked Longg.

“Aren’t in-interm-internships unpaid work?” Sass asked irritably. “It’s unfair and degrading – why are we celebrating this?”

Marinette laughed as several of the kwamis began to explain over one another, over the squeals and the begging for details Tikki was happy to provide. She was used to this chaos now.

She leaned back in her chair, considering her trophy. When would the internship begin? According to the anchor, the winners would receive emails near instantly. And Gabriel Agreste – or Nathalie Sancoeur rather – had always been scarily efficient.

Sure enough, when she clicked on her unread emails, she caught one from the Gabriel company, titled CONGRATULATIONS.

There was a list of instructions and rules after the typical congratulatory message and the attachment of the Non-Disclosure Agreement and Internship Contract she and her parents would have to sign. Marinette read through them carefully. To her immense shock, they said that if she managed to create a piece or a portfolio of pieces in the duration of her internship, whether for school or for competition or – she supposed – one of Jagged’s commissions, they would help and possibly put forth a model of their own and release it as part of the brand, with her name attached!

Marinette was speechless. These were excellent terms for an internship. Then again, the competition she had won was rather prestigious.

She began on Monday, right after lycée.

Nerves began to take over the excitement as Monday approached. Alya greeted her cheerfully after dragging her out of bed as they headed to school. “Internship first day today, huh?” Her friend asked. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” Marinette denied. Alya raised an eyebrow and she relented. “Fine. Maybe a little.” It wasn’t much more than the anxiety always swirling in her stomach – just the feeling of pins and needles, clamminess and a deep sense of dread.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Want to rehearse what you’ll say to Adrien if you run into him?”

“Alya!” Marinette exclaimed, and the girl tossed her head back and laughed. “That was years ago! I’m fine around him now.”

“Just joking, girl,” Alya smirked, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Did you finish the English homework?”

The day seemed to speed by and yet crawl inexorably. Practically before she knew it, she was standing in front of the Gabriel office – a building spanning twenty-two floors.

“ID?” Asked a bored voice.

Marinette jumped. “Er. .  .” She started tentatively. “I – I don’t have one.”

The security guard frowned. “You don’t—”

“She’s our new intern,” interrupted someone Marinette knew very well. She turned to see Adrien smiling, walking forward with a purpose he hadn’t had back in college. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? She should be on the notice given out to you.”

“Y-Yes, Monsieur Agreste,” the guard said, fumbling with papers. “You can go up, Mademoiselle. Please visit the office to get your ID and submit the signed papers and meet your supervisor.”

“Great!” Adrien beamed. “By the way, how is your daughter? Recovered from the flu?”

“Yes, she’s well now, thank you for asking,” The guard replied, clearly put at ease by Adrien’s easy demeanour.

“That’s good,” Adrien said, “Come on, Marinette. I’ll show you to the office.” Thanking the guard, she hurried after him. “Congratulations on the win! I’m glad you’re the one who’s going to work with us.”

“Us?” Marinette interrupted. “Last I heard, you weren’t at all interested in your dad’s company?”

And that had been only three weeks ago, at Luka’s concert. She didn’t see how things could have changed so quickly.

Adrien turned sheepish, ruffling his hair. Marinette pushed down the flutter of her heart at the motion. “Well, two weeks ago the winners of your competition were announced to the industries, so that they could say if and whom they wanted as an intern. And as much as I’m pleased you won and Father actually decided picking an intern was worth it, the lecture I received about deciding my path and focusing on my career now itself wasn’t very fun. He knows we’re friends, see, so he thinks I should be following your example.”

“Sorry about that,” Marinette laughed.

“Helping out in the business side of things made Father decide my modelling engagements are cancelled for the time being, so please, don’t be,” Adrien insisted.

“I remember you really hated modelling,” her voice softened with sympathy. “I’m glad you don’t have to do it anymore.”

Adrien smiled at her, and it was like sunshine. “I am too! It gives me some free time, too. At least business has a fixed number of hours. Modelling doesn’t. I’ll be able to attend Rose’s birthday party after all.”

“Oh, she’ll be so happy!” Marinette exclaimed. “She was hoping that all our old classmates could make it.”

“It’ll be fun to get together,” he agreed, and pressed an arm to hold the elevator. “After you, mademoiselle.”

Marinette giggled as she stepped in. “Such a gentleman.”

He smirked. “Glad my manners haven’t faded since college.” The elevator closed with a ding. Marinette felt a blush rising. She’d imagined various scenarios in college that included this: her and Adrien alone in an elevator. The only thing needed to complete the fantasy was the elevator to get stuck.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Gabriel had higher standards in elevators.

“The office is just to the left,” he stepped out of the elevator, pointing at the sign that listed various locations on the floor, including the office.  “M. Ducasse should be there. He’ll probably be the one to do intern orientation.”

“Alright,” Marinette smiled up at him. “Thanks so much, Adrien. I’ll see you at Rose’s party?”

He hesitated, looking for a moment younger like he’d been in college. “I’m – uh, I’m hoping before that?” She could only blink at him, taken aback. “C’mon, Marinette, this place and the business is boring enough. Really boring, if you promise never to tell my father or Nathalie I said that. Having a friend around would be fun. You always make things better.”

Marinette felt heat pool in her cheeks. In an effort to remain nonchalant, she turned away from him, towards the sign, “Well, I’m certainly not opposed to having one of my best friends keep me company in my first internship. I’m sure us running into one another would be complete coincidences.”

Adrien grinned. “See you around, then. I have to go, I’m already late.” With a wave, he strode to the staircase.

Marinette waved back until he was out of sight, sighing in hopeless, unfading love.

“You are Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” M. Ducasse asked as she stepped inside the office. 

“Yes, M. Ducasse.” She replied, taking out the documents signed by her and her parents.

“Very well,” he said, comparing her profile to the photo on the ID. “Please hand over the NDA and employment contract, and take the ID card. This will give you access till the fifteenth floor. Your supervisor is Mme. Oppenord. She will decide the days and timings of your internship, as well as discuss other details.”

“Okay. Thank you,” she took the ID card and pinned it to her blouse. “Where can I find Mme. Oppenord?”

“She should be here any minute now,” he responded. “Have a seat. There’s some orange juice in the jug.”

She did so, marveling at the décor and the professional hospitality. Then again, there was a reason Gabriel was the most popular company in the design industry. The receptionist was right; her supervisor arrived within three minutes, and took a seat opposite and briskly introduced herself.

The next half an hour was a discussion regarding the responsibilities, duties, duration and timings of the internship. Marinette would apparently be mostly working in the clothes design and PR departments, which pleased her. She asked if she could help out in jewellery department as well, and was warned that going beyond coffee and typing jobs would perhaps be regarded as rudely overstepping by some, but that she was welcome to try.

“Onto the final matter,” Mme. Oppenord seemed like the type of efficient which got things accomplished in the snap of a fingers and left disorganized messes like Marinette staring after them in awe. “The unusual portion of the contract, if I may say so. You are promised help in any ongoing or future projects, including but not limited to a reasonable amount of resources, publishing, selling, modelling, wardrobe. . .?” She trailed off in a question mark.

“Er, yes,” Marinette answered, not sure what the woman was looking for.

“Very well. Do you have anything ongoing?” She couldn’t read Mme. Oppenord’s tone. Tired of this, or just the methodical need to move on to the next thing?

“Well, Jagged Stone has commissioned a few designs that I’ve only just completed,” she said slowly. “And usually, I post them on my website so my followers can get the ‘scoop’ of sorts – the things that the famous rockstar will probably, you know, start a trend with.” She finished weakly and winced.

“If your name is going to be associated with the Gabriel brand, you will have to make a few modifications to the process,” she commented, furrowing her eyebrows. Marinette bristled at that, but had to concede that she had a point. “And – Jagged Stone is okay with you publicizing his commissions like this?” She asked severely.

Marinette wasn’t sure if Mme. Oppenord actually hoped she was committing a crime. “He’s … known me since I was a child, and hence I think was rather indulgent when it came to contracts. He says it’s my designs, so I can do as I wish.” Jagged had always been like the brash, spoiling uncle to her. There was also the fact that Penny had a soft spot for her.

“Hmm.” That apparently garnered a raised eyebrow. “Very well. Bring me your finished designs – I’m your supervisor, dear, I can assure you I won’t be blabbing or copying,” she added when Marinette opened her mouth in instinctive indignation. She blushed, and the woman continued. “And I’ll see what I can do with regards to modelling and publicizing. I’ll have your contact with Jagged Stone as well, and your usual model—”

“I … don’t really have a contact?” Marinette said sheepishly. “I usually just call Penny.”

“As in Jagged Stone’s personal assistant?” Mme. Oppenord seemed a woman of few reactions, and Marinette wondered what it meant that she was giving so many only in their first meeting.

“Erm. Yes.”

“I suppose you’ll have to be there when I call then. . . And your model?”

“Juleka Couffaine.”

Mme. Oppenord stared at her. “The famous Luka Couffaine’s sister? Jagged Stone’s daughter?”

“. . . That’s the one,” Marinette said feebly. It really was a start to remember how well-connected she was. She certainly hadn’t though much of it back in college.

The older woman shook her head with – again, Marinette couldn’t read her expression. Which was frustrating. As Ladybug, she was used to dealing with akumas by reading their emotions and body language.

She was sent off to work soon enough. She spent the next couple hours brewing coffee and typing and sending e-mails, with one exciting excursion to the wardrobe department to help in an ongoing shoot. Mme. Oppenord told her that when she came on Thursday she would be helping organize the wardrobes used by the designers with the other interns, and that she could eat in the cafeteria before she left.

She sat down with two girls only a couple years older than her called Juliet and Andy, who were very friendly. She’d texted her parents that she would be home by eight-thirty, so she had half an hour before she had to leave. The girls were amazing sources about future schooling: Juliet went to university while Andy pursued jewellery making in a specialized school. Marinette had to consider her own options after lycée, so it was helpful.

“Oh my God,” came a squeal, “Oh, God, look! Everyone, look!”

 There were instantly several other screeches and a hushed, “It’s Adrien Agreste!”

Sure enough, the blond was at the door, frowning as he looked around. When he caught her eye, she waved tentatively. His face brightened and he headed straight there.

“Why is he coming here?” Andy asked, voice reaching a previously undiscovered pitch. “Marinette, did you just wave ADRIEN AGRESTE over to our table?”

“You know him?” Juliet asked, sounding impressed but not as slavish as the others. Marinette had barely nodded when Adrien beamed at her, sitting next to Juliet.

“Hi, Marinette! How was your first day of work?”

“Good,” Marinette smiled back at him – it was pretty much impossible not to. Adrien always had a way of making her fluster and smile. “How was your day? As boring as you expected?”

“Pretty much,” he replied, making a face. “Except I had the prospect of seeing you to tide me over.” His eyes sparkled and her face burned. Adrien flirted with everyone, apparently having gained confidence after he entered lycée. Thankfully more lowkey than Chat Noir, though her partner had stopped declaiming his love to her recently.

“What exactly do you do here anyway?” She asked, putting her head on her chin to consider him. “Oh, and this is Juliet and Andy by the way.”

“I remember you helped in the jewellery in my last shoot,” Adrien said in recognition to Andy. She gulped, looking like she was about to faint, and nodded wildly. “Nice to meet you, Juliet.”

“You as well,” Juliet replied politely.

“As for your question,” he turned to Marinette. “I usually just shadow Nathalie, though Father has been coming here to show me the ropes.”

“Gabriel Agreste is outside the mansion?” Andy gasped, dropping her fork. “Here?”

“Right?” Adrien said enthusiastically, clearly not understanding the fangirling. “It’s a miracle! The last time he came out was nearly five years ago, during that fashion show. . . The one where I wore the hat you designed, Marinette.”

“Oh right,” she laughed sheepishly. “The one inspired by Mr. Pigeon.”

“That was inspired by Mr. Pigeon?” Adrien laughed too. “Right, the feather in the hat. Literally,” he winked. She giggled. “My father really did admire your work, especially the signature. I remember he called it ‘masterful’.”

“That’s a feather in the cap of any designer,” Juliet said, smiling, looking between Marinette and Adrien with shrewd eyes.

“Definitely,” Marinette agreed. “I think that competition was around the time when Mr. Ramier was first Akumatized.”

“You … know his actual name?” Adrien blinked in surprise.

“Well. . . The poor man’s been Akumatized enough times,” she joked. “I help him feed the pigeons sometimes.” She felt sorry for the man, as Ladybug and as herself. It was a bit of a joke, but loving pigeons that much to get Akumatized even with the charm she gave out? That was some commitment. Adrien’s face softened, looking at her.

“Nearly seventy, I believe,” Andy laughed.

“Seventy-three,” Both Marinette and Adrien corrected together. They grinned at one another.

“If you’ve already had a Gabriel model,” Juliet gestured to Adrien, “Then doing it again shouldn’t be much of a problem, should it?” Marinette hadn’t known her long, but she was fairly certain that wicked glint in her eye meant nothing good.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

 Marinette cleared her throat. “There was a clause in the internship contract that any ongoing or future projects while I’m interning here will be supported by Gabriel, including but not limited to—”

“Modelling,” he finished.

“Right. And she has one now,” Andy said, nodding. “Mme. Oppenord told you to bring your sketches in next time you’re here for deciding the model and everything?” She and Juliet exchanged a glance and then looked at Adrien. . . expectantly?

“I can do the modelling for you,” Adrien offered instantly.

“What?” Marinette gaped unflatteringly at him. “Adrien – you hate modelling! You really don’t need to do something like this for me!”

“No, really, it’s no problem. I’ll talk to my father about it. He knows we’re friends. He’ll probably be glad I want to model at all. In fact, he may thank you on bended knee,” he said, smiling crookedly.

“Well, that’ll be the day,” Marinette joked. “And a sight worth seeing. But you don’t have to.” She said again, feeling speechless at how unhesitatingly he offered to do something he hated for her sake.

“I’m happy to,” he replied. “Mme. Oppenord’s your supervisor? I’ll get Nathalie to tell her—” his phone rang. “Speaking of which. I have to go. I’ll see you?” He added hopefully.

Marinette wasn’t sure why he wanted to, but she would never object to seeing Adrien. If she did, the people around her ought to check for Akumatization or something of the sort. “Of course.”

Juliet and Andy pounced on her the moment Adrien left the table. “You didn’t tell us you were dating Adrien Agreste!” Andy cried.

“I’m not,” she protested. “We went to college together, and our best friends are dating. We’re just friends.” The words didn’t give her pain as they had back in college. Yes, she still loved Adrien, but he didn’t have to return her feelings. She liked being friends. It was fine.

“Didn’t look like it,” Juliet said, her eyes glittering. “But okay. Looks like we have a matchmaking job, Andy.”

Marinette crossed her arms. “Don’t you dare,” she scolded.

They dared.

When the son of the owner of the company requested something, things apparently moved rather fast. The very next time she went to her internship with her designs, Mme. Oppenord had frostily declared that an appointment with Adrien Agreste for modelling her designs had been set. She’d been rather hurtful about the fact that she clearly thought it was nepotism and not talent until she took a look at Marinette’s designs. Then she gaped, and behaved much nicer.

She was also pretty supportive. Marinette had stocked and organized the wardrobe, making friends with a couple of the interns helping, though some had looked down on her, all of them obviously being out of lycée. Mme. Oppenord had also let her select the colour palette of decoration of somebody’s party (with plenty of criticism, of course, but it was the thought that counted).

Adrien had met her at the cafeteria once more, this time walking her down to the gate. Andy had giggled and pushed her at him once.

After all these years, you’d think she’d be used to pushy friends shoving her at him. But nope.

He caught her by the waist, and just laughed while she stammered in apology and embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it, Marinette. After all these years, I’ve kind of grown used to it.”

“I really am madly clumsy,” Marinette tried to laugh it off. An odd look passed over his face.

“That can be an endearing quality,” he said softly. She nearly had a heart attack. Did he mean to call her endearing? Did he--? But no, he couldn’t. “I’ll see you Saturday evening for the shoot?”

“Why is it so soon?” She frowned, glad to get off-topic from her ‘endearing’ clumsiness.

Adrien smiled ruefully. “Father’s overjoyed, like I said he would be. He’s taking the opportunity to start the new advertising campaign he wanted me to star in. He wasn’t very happy with cutting down my modelling, even if it was for learning about the business instead.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, unable to think of anything else. At this point, as bad as it sounded, she was used to the way Adrien’s father acted with him.

He ruffled his hair. “Well, at least it’s for a good cause. Can’t wait to wear something of your design again,” he winked and headed back to the building, leaving her blushing.

“And she says there’s nothing romantic between them,” Juliet giggled.

Marinette scolded her all the way to the train station where they were leaving Andy and walking home.

Somehow, Juliet and Andy weaseled their way into the photoshoot. Andy was there helping with the jewellery anyway, but Juliet winked at her, rushing after the photographer in an effort to ‘assist’.

Marinette loved her new friends, but really.

Adrien had been right that one time: photoshoots and modelling were long and boring. Although assisting with the wardrobe, and exchanging glances and smiles with Adrien, and making sure her pieces were done justice and were right for Jagged and her website and glaring at Andy and Juliet made them less so.

The photoshoot went well enough, despite a couple hiccups and Vincent’s despairing that Adrien had had such a long break from modelling (exactly two weeks) and would continue taking a break after this (indefinitely).

What Juliet and Andy did afterwards though? The. Last. Straw.

She was going to kill them. Painfully. Despite Tikki’s admonishments about Ladybug having to be a model for good behaviour.

And now she was facing a celebratory dinner date with Adrien.

Great.

[warmaidensrevenge]

Always seen you.

Pairing: Eddie x insecure!plus size reader

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

A/N: Hi! So welcome to my mini not so mini series. I have this fic in mind that I just needed to get out. If you come across this first this is part four. Feel free to read the previous parts in order to follow along. No pressure. Anyways thanks for reading. As always feedback is greatly appreciated. Kay love ya bye.

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, body insecurities, eventual smut and not proof read and no word count.

Summary: The boy of your dreams is always just out of reach. If only you could get over yourself to see that he sees you too.

Part 4

🖤

Mrs Adler was a very observant teacher. Over the years she noticed a lot of things. With other teachers and students. She saw everything. Even you.

Though she never had you for a class she was happy to see you walk in that first day of school.

She didn't miss the way you looked when you saw that you had to sit next to Eddie Munson. How incredibly flustered and nervous you got.

She especially didn't miss the way Eddie looked at you.

Mrs Adler liked Eddie Munson. He was a very good kid. He was just a little different from the rest of the town. See Mrs Adler used to live in California before she decided she no longer liked LA. She craved the small town setting. Which led her to Hawkins.

So to her Eddie wasn't different. He was actually quite tamed. But she couldn't change the minds of the rest of the town.

The moment she had seen you fall and Eddie coming to the rescue, she had an idea.

See she knew about you as well. The smartest girl in school. The one who was to be headed off to put Hawkins on the map. You were definitely talked about. Your I.Q was off the charts. And you were sure to be a rocket scientist or something equally impressive.

So clearly seeing you so flustered at how Eddie held you, she thought she would play match maker.

Eddie would be good for her. She thought. Maybe he could bring a little chaos into your world full of books and tight schedules with no room for actual fun.

And you could be good for him. Maybe bring a little structure and possibly some tutoring into his life. The poor boy needed it. Even though seeing Eddie Munson around school was always a delight. She got very tired of seeing him for the sixth year in a row.

Her plan was to push you guys together to grow the obvious attraction there. Then see what would happen when she switched things up and threw a hypothetical "Wrench" into the situation. Sure maybe it would end in flames. But seeing you two together during the second scene you guys did together, she knew. It was a risk she was willing to take.

You guys would be so perfect for each other. His ying to your yang. The whole opposites attract and all. So of course she had to stop the kiss from happening. It was way too soon for that. But also very inappropriate. No matter how badly she wanted to root for you both.

The smirk she had on her face made her jaw pucker. Seeing both of you completely overwhelmed with feelings of what looked a lot like love to her. How both pairs of cheeks were flushed.

Oh yeah this is going to be fun. She thought.

Now all she had to do was find the play to get you guys to spend more time together. But what play?

...

When Mrs Adler stopped the kiss you could have cried. You wanted it. You wanted to kiss Eddie. But maybe it was for the best.

You pulled out of Eddie's arms and faked a smile thanking Mrs Adler for casting you and Eddie.

Eddie followed you off the stage. He really wanted to kiss you. Did he just miss his chance? Would he ever get the chance to do it again? Or should he just not try to get close to you? You guys were different. But he honestly liked it.

You guys went back to sit down in the auditorium watching other classmates perform. Eddie sat next to you and kept stealing glances. How was he gonna do this? How was he gonna be able to get through the year being next to you. He was most definitely gonna fail again if he let the feelings grow.

Every time you catch him starting you would give him a small but sweet smile. Making his heart pound like crazy.

He tried to convince himself to stop thinking about the possibility of you two. But it didn't help when you looked at him like he was special. Like he was important to you.

The bell rang and you guys walked together in silence.

He wanted to apologize for the almost kiss. When he opened his mouth you started to say something.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

" No." Eddie smiled. " Go ahead."

You let out a small nose laugh.

" Umm remember when you said that I need a movie-cation?"

He licked his lips before answering.

" Yeah?"

Without looking at him you continued to talk.

" So I was wondering...maybe you wouldn't mind showing me those movies."

Eddie stared at the side of your face. Did you want to hang out outside of school?!

" Umm are you sure? Your parents probably won't approve."

" Oh yeah. So here's the thing. I'm gonna need a little bit of time to smooth them over."

Eddie smirked. You were thinking about talking to your parents about him coming over. You were definitely different and he liked it. Then he thought. Shit. He couldn't have you over to his place. No way would you want to see how he lived.

" Umm how about we watch a movie here?" He suggested.

" I...I was thinking the same thing actually."

"yeah?"

You turned to look at him with a smile and nodded

" I attend clubs after school. So I'm here all the time. I can just tell my parents-"

" That they went on longer." He smirked. " That's a good ruse."

" You think so huh?" You giggled.

" Oh no have I corrupted you already?" He joked, shoulder bumping you softly.

You turned your gaze back to the ground. " I don't think so. Strick parents have the sneakiest kids. You should talk to my brother about it. Man that butthead used to sneak out all the time."

Eddie grinned slightly intrigued with what you might have done that your parents wouldn't approve of.

" What about you?" He asked.

"Well.. I-"

The bell ringing cut you off. You were just a few feet away from your math class.

" I better get in there. Don't want tardiness on my permanent record."

Eddie wanted to ask for you to skip so you guys could keep talking. But he held his tongue. When you went to the door you stopped and turned to him again.

" Meet me in the quad after school. Then we can talk about how to proceed."

He nodded. " yeah okay."

" Great."

Eddie stood and watched you until you were in the class room. The late bell rang and he was too amped up to go to class. You wanted to hang out with him. Yeah it was still at school. But he had to start somewhere. And going to his place wasn't an option right now.

He went to the woods and lit a joint in order to calm his anxiety before he went back to finish the day.

You couldn't believe you basically asked Eddie out on a date. The whole class you sat there in disbelief that you actually took your brothers advice.

If you couldn't be with him. At least you guys could be friends.

...

You wait for almost 20 minutes after school for Eddie. You were just about to take off because you were already 5 minutes late to debate club. You were afraid that somehow your parents would find out and bitch at you for being a disappointment.

"Hey." Eddie said from behind you. Making you jump.

You turned around and he had his hands up.

"Sorry." He chuckled.

You didn't say anything. You just turned away and started walking to the debate club.

" Hey." Eddie called out chasing you. " Hey. Did I do something wrong?"

" You were late." You said a little coldly.

" No I wasn't. I was waiting until the crowd thinned out."

That hurt. Eddie didn't want people to see you together. Were you really that bad for him to not want to be seen together? For people to know you were friends?

You could have cried. But instead you were a little ticked off. If he didn't want to be seen with you, then he shouldn't have agreed to come.

" Hey look I'm sorry I'm in your words 'late-'"

You stopped and turned to face him. You furrowed your brow.

" Munson if you didn't want to be seen with me then you shouldn't have come."

Eddie took a couple of steps back. "Wait what?"

" Yeah. I get it. I wouldn't want to be seen with me either. But don’t-"

"Woah woah woah. Hold on. I stood back because I didn't think that you would want to be seen with me."

" Why on earth would I think that?"

" Well the whole Satan worshiper and all."

Eddie saw your face softened up.

" Eddie I know that's not true. None of that bull is true. And honestly I don't care who sees us. Besides well my parents. But I'll handle them eventually. I don't care who knows we're friends. And neither should you."

Now he felt bad. Normally he wouldn't care. But being your friend might ruin your reputation and he didn't want that for you. He really did want to be your friend though.

He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground. " I... I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me."

You took a small step closer to him. " Munson I'm not mad at you."

Eddie looked up and saw the sadness in your eyes. He wanted to hug you but maybe it wasn't the right time.

" I'm mad that people lead you to believe that you have to hide yourself. Or shy away from making friends who don't run in the same groups. Honestly I hate the whole click thing."

Eddie grinned. " Me too."

You returned his grin with one of your own.

" So uhh...want to watch a movie after your meeting?"

You guys continued to walk towards the classroom.

" Yeah sure. What do you have in mind?"

" Well we got to go with the classics first...have you seen The Birds?"

You shook your head.

"Okay I'll pick that one up. Do you know where I hold Hellfire campaigns?"

You nodded.

" Cool. So how about you meet me there after your meeting. I'll grab a TV cart from AV club and set up."

You stopped at the class room door.

" Okay. I'll umm see you in an hour?"

"Sure thing sweetheart. Prepare to be scared of birds for the rest of your life."

Your laugh made him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

" Jokes on you Munson. I'm already afraid of birds."

He laughed and watched you go into the room.

" Hey guys. Sorry I'm late. Having girl issues."

Eddie smirked when he heard that. Oh yeah. He was definitely rubbing off on you.

...

Eddie was waiting by the door when you walked up.

He's on time.

"Hey."

"Hey. How was your meeting?"

" Uneventful. I never really cared for arguing about politics."

" No?"

" Nope."

" Then why are you in that club?" He asked already knowing the answer.

" The folks."

" Right. Duh."

There was a brief silence before he went to open the door.

" Shall we?"

You nodded and walked in. " Wow!"

Eddie walked behind you as you took a look around.

" Holy contributing to the delinquency of minors!"

Eddie chuckled at your Batman reference.

You looked at the game table with all the figurines.

" So this is where all the magic happens on Friday nights?"

" Yeah. Pretty cool huh?" He said with a smirk.

" Definitely." You smiled. " Cool throne."

" Want to sit on it?"

Though it looked sturdy and possibly could hold you up. You didn't want to take the chance.

" Umm no that's okay."

" You can you know?"

You looked at him with a half smile. "Maybe next time."

Eddie nodded but he felt like maybe you thought you were too big for it. Grant sat on it all the time and he was big too. Bigger in fact.

"So uhh I got snacks too." He said digging in a Big Buy paper bag.

" Oh you didn't have to."

" I umm like something to munch on while I watch a movie. Or else you'll get commentary."

You laughed.

" What's so funny?" He looked at you with brows slightly pinched together.

" I talked through movies too. That's why I can't go to the theaters. There's always something to say. Like for instance the other day I was watching Up In Smoke with my brother."

Eddie tilted his head and looked at you with wide eyes.

" And there was this part where this chick sniffed Ajax. I blurted out that she was gonna die! And then she did this Donald duck impression and I was gone...I swear every time someone knocks on my door I say to myself. 'You can keep on knocking but you can't come in'."

Eddie threw his head back and laughed.

" Oh my god! I did the same thing. That movie is partially the reason I say 'Man' all the time."

You chuckled. "Yeah?"

" Oh hell yeah. That movie is hilarious."

Eddie then quoted the movie.

" Hey man...am I driving okay?"

You finished the quote.

" I think we're parked man."

You both grinned at each other for a minute.

Eddie saw you blush and averted your gaze.

He honestly couldn't believe the things you had in common. You were winning his heart over. Especially when you blushed like that.

" Alright sweetheart. Let the show begin."

...

You went home later than usual and of course your parents went berserk.

" We know your schedule y/n! Where the hell have you been?!" Your father was pacing the living room yelling at you.

" I-"

" Just tell us the truth." Your mother said

"I-"

"She was with me." Your brother interrupted entering the room. "I picked her up from school and we went to the library to print out some college applications. Then we went to get some food after."

" Is that true?" Your fathers voice calmed.

You nodded. You couldn't stand lying. You actually hated it. But your parents would have a heart attack if they knew you just spent the last two and a half hours with Eddie Munson.

Your father and mother seemed to accept that that was what you were doing. After they both calmed down you talked to them about getting a part in the schools play. At first they didn't like the idea of you having to spend more time away from studying. But then your brother spoke up about how you needed something other than academic clubs on your applications.

So they agreed to allow you to be in the play. Accepting that you might be staying later than normal and having to go in on Saturdays as well.

It was a win for you tonight. So to savor the victory you chose not to mention that you were friends with Eddie just yet.

Your parents went to the kitchen to start supper and you went to your room to start on your homework. With your brother following you.

" I can't always cover for you, you know."

" Yeah I know. I'm sorry. But thank you."

" What were you doing?" He asked

" I uhh was watching a movie."

" With Eddie?"

You nodded.

" Oh man! Did anything happen?"

" No. We just watched the movie and talked."

" So you gonna tell him how you feel?"

You shook your head.

" Why not?"

" I...I just want to be his friend."

" Liar."

You sighed. " He doesn't like me like that."

" How do you know that if you don't try."

" Because no one wants to be with a fat girl."

" Shut up! You are not fat!"

You looked away.

" Listen to me y/n. You are not fat. You are perfect the way you are. And if Eddie thinks that. Then he doesn't need to be a part of your life. But what I know of Eddie Munson. He doesn't see what's on the outside. All his friends may not be beauty contest winners. But they are all good people. Eddie surrounds himself with truly nice people. So I'm not surprised that he's trying to be around you."

" But do you think he could ever like me more than a friend?"

Your brother shrugged his shoulders. " I don't know. That's why you need to try."

" I...I don't want to mess anything up. I don't want to ruin the friendship that just started."

"Hey, you either say how you feel and mess it up. Or don't and let it mess you up instead."

You gave your brother a thin lip smile. " Maybe."

" Don't overthink it like I know you will. Just see where he's at and then go from there."

You nodded.

" Alright. Now get to work half pint."

" okay chicken legs."

" Hey! Watch yourself."

You guys both laughed shaking your heads.

When he left you did exactly what he told you not to do. You over thought. You looked at your phone and wanted to call him. Wanting to confess your obsessive need to talk with him. Your never-ending want to be in his vicinity. How the mere thought of him had you climbing the walls.

But you couldn't. You most definitely shouldn't.

" I wonder if he's thinking about me?" You said to yourself.

Like a sign from above the phone rang. You quickly got up from your desk and went to answer it.

" Hello?"

" Hey sweetheart. I was just thinking about you."

And just like that, the whole world got just a little bit brighter for you.

...

@salenorona23 @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @idkidknemore @hiscrimsonangel @hellv1ra @b-irock

[real-fanta-sea]

Kiss request! 65 with Trikey while in Michael's house with his family at home but they are in another room (uuhh danger!!) Thank you :)♡

hello, it's finally here, it's finally happening! Thank you very much for the prompt. Find your fic under "keep reading" or here on my ao3. I hope you'll like it!

Michael's face lit up in a splat of fire just to turn blue again a moment later, contrasting with the bright red tip of his cigarette. He propped himself against the porch railing, taking pleasure in spoiling the pristine white snow that rounded all the man-made edges, squishing it into a bland mess with his arms. Watching the puffs of smoke disappear into the indigo sky, Michael shivered under his heavy jacket. It was Halloween in North Yankton again - as cold as an unhappy marriage and just as ugly. He hated every second between the end of September and the beginning of June. It meant cold air pouring inside and nagging at bare patches of skin at night. It was a time of spending evenings with the family in the worst ways imaginable - playing (and losing, that was the worst) stupid games, watching dull cartoons and festive specials, and worst of all, school drama club shows. Somehow, sitting in an auditorium filled with people who were coughing and sniffing, making the air thick with their unpleasant musk and vapour from wet boots, was not very high on Michael's bucket list. On top of that, he had to waste two hours of his time watching his children babble in lousy costumes and bear with the forced enthusiasm of their teachers while he could spend the very same one hundred and twenty minutes in the local cinema, consuming the real culture.

The only tolerable feature of winter was food. Oh yes. Michael sighed when he imagined how Tracey and Jimmy lay in bed, their heads heavy with dreams about chocolate, their painted faces smiling innocently, while he decimates the candy they collected trick-or-treating, ravenous after yet another of Mandy's tasteless meatloaves. Soon, he thought and inhaled a fluffy hit. Soon, he would have all the sweets his heart desired, and he would blame Trevor for stealing and eating them because who would believe the crazy uncle? Michael snorted, throwing the smouldering butt of a cigarette into the snow. He watched it hiss as it angrily burrowed itself into the powder till there was no evidence left. Kids loved him anyway, so it would take a couple of silly grimaces, and Trevor would win their hearts all over again. The perfect crime, committed by the perfect Townley.

The sound of high-pitched voices from the other side of the door grazed his ears. Turning around, Michael hesitated, not quite ready to jump back into the preparations for the night. Amanda was capable of taking care of things herself, her voice engaged in a duet of argument with Tracey. No, he didn't need to step back into the warm light of their brand new living room and be forced into taking sides. Michael was perfectly fine right there in the cold, his back propped by the fruit of his hard work. He remembered how Trevor laughed when he first proudly showed him the white picket fence and teased Michael over owning the most American house in both Yanktons. The corners of his mouth curled up slightly when the memory brought a phantom touch where Trevor poked his belly, calling him an apple pie and how he had to tickle Trevor's soft spot on the side of his neck to make it stop. That evening a couple of months back, they ended up sitting on sun-drenched porch steps of the empty Townley manor, washing down giggles with cheap cigarettes and beer.

As if his thoughts were a mating cry attracting the man who occupied his mind, the silence of the Halloween afternoon was cut short by crunching stomps. Michael didn't have to turn around to know exactly whose feet kicked the steps to remove the remaining snow off the boots. Instead, he simply flicked another cigarette butt behind his shoulder and straightened his back, counting every crack in his spine before he would have to face the chaos Trevor always brought about. To his surprise, the only part left of Trevor he knew was a signature shark smirk. It was newly framed by black lipstick, white make-up, smoky eyeshadow, and a long black wig. Michael couldn't help but let his mouth gape in surprise, taking in the tall slim outline of Trevor's body enveloped in a thick black coat and the way the fake fur around Trevor's shoulders rose and fell in times with his breath. Silk gloves delicately underlined the outfit, and thanks to the high heels boots, Trevor towered over Michael. For a shameful moment, Michael wished to pin the man to the wall, kick his legs apart and vandalize the outfit in the worst ways imaginable.

"Oh, I take it you like my mask then, Mikey?"

Michael closed his mouth too fast when called out, and the clack of his teeth resonated painfully through his skull. "What are you talking about?"

Trevor's mouth widened with a grin. "Boo, you looked like you wanted to fuck my little Morticia Addams self through the wall, didn't you?" A silk-clad finger slid alongside Michael's jaw. "Your mouth was gaping the second you laid eyes on me!"

"I was shocked! You look like…" Michael gestured frantically, "like those chimpanzees they test make-up on!"

Trevor merely chuckled. "So what, are you developing a new kink for hairy apes wearing make-up? I shouldn't have shaved then."

Michael's glare didn't need an explanation. Instead of continuing the convo with the unnecessarily hot friend, Michael gestured towards the door, muttering something about mulled wine under his breath. Trevor chuckled again when Michael opened the door for him, still fooled by the feminine outfit and the way he puffed up his chest when he realized his mistake.

The moment they stepped inside, the screeching that nagged on their ears turned into a barely mistakable sound of awe and jaw-dropping onto the meticulously sewn costume, followed by a snort and two tiny feet stomping towards them.

"Uncle T! You look like the witch from that emo family on TV!"

Michael secretly loved each and every interaction between Trevor and Tracey. Given the opportunity, he watched how Trevor's face bloomed into a toothy grin as he squatted and gave his goddaughter a hug.

"Aww, why thank you, sweetie!" Trevor's nails, long and black against pink chiffon, distracted Michael for a moment. "Your costume is amazing! You look almost as good as me!"

Tracy, who was just in the middle of an adorable giggle she practised in front of her stickers covered mirror, stopped suddenly and smashed her fairy stick against Trevor's forehead so hard the velvet he was wearing suddenly resembled starry night.

"Almost? What do you mean, almost? I DO look better than you!"

Trevor merely snickered and tried to give her another hug, but she, nose up, was already on her way back to Amanda, who spewed lightning with her sight and stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed on her chest.

"Tracey, come on, you know I was kidding! You look much better than your old uncle!"

Michael couldn't help but snort when he saw how Tracey turned on her toes tips, playing bold the way her mother used to when he first met her. Her triumphant expression, half-hidden under locks of brown hair that fell into her forehead, and Trevor's desperation to win her over reminded Michael of his and Amanda's past with a bittersweet kick to the gut.

"I don't believe you, T." Trevor flinched as the magic stick flew around his ear. "But just you wait till mom does my hair and make-up! You won't stand a chance!"

Before Trevor could answer, Amanda got hold of Tracey and stepped back to the living room, and with a sneer and a remark about Michael not helping at all, she muted out a new tantrum with her own voice full of desperation. Michael could feel Trevor's gaze roaming from the doorframe to him, and in a rare moment of hospitality, Michael pulled him to his feet and nodded towards the kitchen, a quiet haven with dim lights and a promise of alcohol.

With a precision screaming unhealthy habit, Michael pulled two bottles out of the fridge. He threw one to Trevor and let himself marvel at the clinking sound of cheap rings closing around the cold glass as Trevor caught the bottle and turned it right side up. The kitchen wasn't the largest room of the house, but there was enough room for an island right in the middle of it, and Michael was secretly grateful for the obstacle. From his vantage point by the fridge, hidden in shadow, he could easily observe Trevor. The way his lips curled around the tip of the bottle, how his tongue darted out and searched for white foam, the way he looked back at Michael biting his lip. Michael could barely do anything but keep eye contact and take in Trevor's slow approach.

Before he could utter a word of protest or fight his petrifying fascination, Michael found his back pinned against the fridge door, plastic fruit magnets imprinting into his skin. The sound of rustling paper as he ruined his children's drawings took his attention off the fact Trevor pressed him there, and that long black nails were scratching down his face in a silent plea.

"Are you wearing a new cologne, Mikey?" Trevor leaned in, and his breath left goosebumps on Michael's neck. "I don't know what it is, but you make me so damn hard."

Michael gulped. Trevor's warmth alone almost drove him crazy, flooding him with memories he didn't want a glimpse of. Trevor's fist grabbing a handful of his shirt. Trevor's half-open lips so close to his. Trevor's eyes dark with longing. Trevor's chest rising almost under his palm, the only barrier being a layer of soft cloth. The world was spinning under his feet and Michael could do nothing but give in to the temptation. Just as Trevor was leaning in to get his treat - and Michael closed his eyes and slightly parted his lips to give him his best - the heat disappeared abruptly. Michael, grieving the sensation by letting out a shaky breath, could only blink away the black outline that stepped back from him.

"What… What's the problem, T?"

In between stood black and white silence, occasionally interrupted by Tracy's angered screech.

"I'm sorry, Michael, I got carried away…" Trevor's head dropped the way a reprimanded child's would when caught drawing on a wall. "Please don't kick me out, I was looking forward to trick and treating with kids and…"

Michael's hand was shaking - shit, when was the last time he trembled so much from just a touch? The back of his hand gently slid down Trevor's cheek, only to bloom into all his fingers to brush against the soft spot on his neck and elicit some shivers too. Slender fingers covered his when they met on Trevor's chest, and the warmth he craved so much was back.

"Are you sure, Mikey?" there was a squeeze to his hand, and Michael squeezed back. When did Trevor become so gentle with him? He wasn't sure - but he was silently glad for Trevor's hand sliding into his hair, bringing him closer. Another bang from the living room, and Trevor jumped slightly, his breath hot on Michael's lips. Finally, he could not take it any longer and grabbing fists full of velvet, Michael surged forward and killed the needy gasp on Trevor's lips.

Later that night, Michael stood by the railing again, smoking yet another Red Wood. He told himself it was out of habit, but some tiny part of him demanded to erase the memory of the taste of beer mixed with lipstick and something unmistakeably Trevor. Dragging deep into the lungs, he couldn't help but wonder if he would hate it if it still was just him, Trevor and Lester on the run. His eyes followed two boys with plastic water guns running through the street, stealing from seldom other carolers, hand in hand, laughing. When he turned around, all he saw was an empty house, dark and cold, no matter how much knick-knack accumulated inside. Michael chuckled humorlessly. What he and Trevor did was great, but for kids. He had a family - responsibility, and no amount of lipstick smeared on his face and around his cock could ever change what he had become. Closeted bastard with two kids, cheating on his wife with his cross-dressing best friend, screamed his conscience. A fifth butt got buried in snow. Yeah. He hated Halloween.

[mackeydoodledoo]

Heroes

Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You’re a sucker for classic rock. You’re a sucker for women. Getting a woman to get into classic rock is a milestone for you. It’s your senior year of high school and you had participated in a Senior’s Art Showcase; not only attracting a staff member of Musician’s Institute, but also your high school’s most popular yet edgy girl: Daniela Dimitrescu

Warnings: Awkwardness, High school Bullying, Mention of Separation Anxiety, Self-harm scars, fluff at the end

A/N: As someone who is a musician that dreams of becoming an actual musician, this is a whole vibe: getting scouted by a staff person who is apart of a music school and attracting a woman just being a musician.

“Heroes” - David Bowie

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

Late-Fall As you play the last chord on your bass guitar of your song that you had written for this showcase, you receive a standing ovation. You could just barely see outlines of people standing for your performance. You could feel some kind of sweat along the sides of your head. Not only from the bright auditorium lights but the nerves almost getting the best of you.

You put your bass into your case and hoist the case across your body but turn around when you hear someone clearing their throat.

“Y/n Y/l/n was it?” A complete stranger asks

“That’s me,” You say, “I’m sorry, you are?”

“Derek Frank,” He introduces himself, “Bass instructor at Musicians Institute.”

Not knowing what else to say you only shake his hand. Maybe for slightly too long...

“I’m impressed by how you incorporated guitar-like chords on your bass,” He comments

“Thank you sir,” You say, chuckling nervously, “To be quite honest, it wasn’t too difficult to compose really. I just took them an octave down and wrote them out on tabs in case I’d forget and... All that... Jazz..”

Smooth y/n... Smooth...

“Well, I’d like you to give you a full-ride scholarship to Musicians Institute, working under me in the Bass classes,” He announces

Your mouth hangs agape, you didn’t expect to get that kind of offer. You don’t answer him right away as you were still trying to even process the offer.

“I’ll let you think about it,” He chuckles, “Here’s my card.”

You take one of his business cards and he makes his leave. you turn to him and watch him exit the building.

“You sure have a way with music,” A voice calls from behind you

You turn back into the other direction and notice Daniel Dimitrescu; Your school’s most popular girl. All the girls are pining after her. Yet, here she is; in your presence. 

“Thank you,” You say, “I-uhh, haven’t been able to get around to the fine art section of this showcase yet but I’m heading over there right now.”

“Perfect, I’ll join you,” She slightly smiles, coming up right next to you

You walk next to Daniela in silence, trying to think of a way to talk to her.

“Weren’t-weren’t you in the fine art section though?” You ask, finally breaking the silence

“I was, but then I heard how the performing arts section had a prodigy bassist performing. That sounded way more interesting than just standing around, greeting people,” Daniela explains

“Is that so?” You ask, sounding slightly flirty

“Was that flirting y/n y/l/n?” Daniela smirks at you

“Maybe,” You joke, but also not joking

Daniela leads you to her exhibition spot and you’re greeted in awe. 

The graphite... Ink... My god she’s a real artist... 

You also happen to notice some photographs that seem to be tattoos she’s done.

“And a tattoo artist?” You ask, gazing at her work, “You must be the prodigy instead of me.”

“Apprentice,” Daniela corrects you, “I’m currently an apprentice at the tattoo shop downtown. But, that won’t last very much longer.”

“Why’s that?” you ask, looking away from her artwork to look at her

“I got a full-ride scholarship to a private art school in the city,” She sighs, “But, I’ll make sure I’ll find a way to make it work.”

“You will,” You encourage her

After the senior art showcase, you and Daniela were out in the parking lot, walking to each others’ vehicles.

“Would you possibly want to get a coffee sometime?” Daniela asks out of the blue

“I don’t see why not Dani,” You smile, closing your trunk after placing your bass case in there

You didn’t really notice the change in color in Daniela’s cheek however you take out your phone and hand it to her. She does the same for her phone and the both of you part ways for the night until the next morning for school.

During the entire morning Daniela had no absolute time to even just say hi to you as you were always disappearing in the school halls between classes. She was hoping she’d see you at lunch however, when she had noticed you not in your typical spot in the corner of the cafeteria, the only other place she thought of was the band room practice rooms.

“Sorry ladies I have to go find someone,” She says, standing from her seat

The girls that swarmed around her, watching her sketch a design into her sketchbook all groan in annoyance and begin dispersing back into the cafeteria. Daniela rushes out of there and right across the hall into the band hall. A few band kids give her an odd look.

“Have you seen y/n?” she asks, despite knowing you might be in the practice room

“Practice room C,” one of the band kids answers

“Thanks,” she says, rushing past them

As you were playing a long to a song, you could slightly hear the door being knocked on. You look over and a smile sweeps across your face as You put your bass against your stand and run up to the door.

“Hey stranger,” You smile, “Come here often?”

“No,” Daniela giggles, stepping into the practice room, “I came to see you. I also need a break from all of the pining girls...”

“Alright,” You sigh, smiling, “ Make yourself comfortable.”

She sits in a chair and watches you, intently.

“What do you want to hear?” You ask, picking your bass back up

“Impress me,” She only says

You chuckle and throw in some slap bass to a song you were doing. Daniela couldn’t help but almost laugh at your ‘bass face’ as you let the music speak for itself.

“What?” You ask, smiling

“The faces you make when you play,” She laughs

“Oh, right,” You chuckle it off, “That happens when a musician lets the music take over our souls and we tend to make faces.”

“Your faces are cute if you tell me,” She smiles

Before you could talk more the bell rings.

“Blast this school,” Daniela growls, “Are you doing anything after school?”

“No why?” You ask

“Meet me in the student parking lot,” She says, leaving the band wing

You spend the rest of your time in the band room as you have pretty much finished everything that was required for your graduation. However, you do wait at the doors leading to the student parking lot. As the final bell rings, you leave through the doors but wait outside for Daniela to come meet you. You look over and see her with a flock of girls following close behind. She manages to see you and speeds off into your direction.

“Hey you,” She smiles, “You ready?”

You nod happily and she swings her arm around you, making sure to let hose girls know who she’s taken an interest to. 

“Where are we going?” You ask

“You’ll see love,” She smiles as she leads you to a convertible vehicle.

“Is that-?”

“Yep, that’s my baby right there,” Daniela smiles

She opens the passenger door for you and you smile at her whilst seating yourself into her car. 

“A gentleman indeed,” You smile

“Oh you shush,” She teases

She gets into the driver’s side door and begins to drive.

“Hey, you got any music?” Daniela asks almost at the top of her lungs

“I do, pass the aux,” You smile

She passes a thin cord to you and you plug in your phone. You scroll through your phone. As the song starts, You look over at Daniela, hoping she’d vibe to the song.

“Wait I’m really vibing with this babe,” Daniela flirts, “What is this??”

“Have you never heard of Classic Rock?” You ask

She shakes her head.

“Girl, I’m about to open your ears,” You smile

As Daniela continues driving, the both of you hold your arm out of the vehicle. You let your hand ‘fly’ like the wing of a plane. 

“You sure do have taste y/n my dear,” Daniela smiles, “Play some more after this song!”

“You got it!” You smile

As you listen to the intro and the intro vocals, you decide to sing your heart out.

And you, you can be mean And I, I’ll drink all the time ’Cause we’re lovers and that is a fact Yes, we’re lovers! And that is a fact Though nothing will keep us together We could steal time just for one day

You look over and notice Daniela smiling. Not sure whether it was from the good music or your vocals. But, you were still having fun so you didn’t care about what she thought. 

Well, I care though...

We can be heroes! Forever and ever! What d’you say?

As you sing the last line in the refrain, you look at Daniela; Your right hand over your chest and your other arm reaching out to her. She laughs as she takes her free hand into yours, linking your fingers’ together. 

Later when Daniela finally stops driving, you turn down the radio and look out to a gothic coffee shop.

“Welcome to my favorite place to be,” Daniela smiles

“Oh my goodness,” you say

“What is it love?” Daniela asks, getting out of her car

“I’ve just never been here before,” You say, “This place suits you super well.”

You follow Daniela into the coffee shop and you follow her into a spot, seemingly she normally seats herself in whenever she would come in here.

“How long have you’ve been a regular?” You ask

“About a couple of years now,” She answers you, “Sometimes I’d even skip class for this place.”

“Would you now,” You chuckle, “Maybe I’d skip with you one of these days.”

“Since when are you a rebel?” She asks, giggling

“Since meeting you love,” You smile

“Everyone falls for me in time,” Daniela flirts

“Not me,” You smile, "Somewhat."

"Somewhat?" She asks, taking somewhat offense to your comment

"Like, I've noticed you in the halls at school, but you've never really captivated me until the senior art showcase." You explain, "But hey, you got me now right? Better late than never."

"You're right," she smiles

During the outing, your focus was concentrated on a book.

"Whatchu doing?" Daniela asks, trying to see what you were so focused on

"That is for me to know and for you to find out," you smile

Once the both of you were back on the road, you notice the sun beginning to set.

"Hey I know an amazing place to watch the sunset," you smile, "You want to come along?"

She smiles as she nods to your suggestion. She follows your direction and the two of you end up on the cliffside near the outskirts of town.

"Come on Dani hurry!" You say, breaking into a run towards an open spot along the cliffs

Daniela walks over to you as you gaze out to the wilderness below. Along with the sunset going below the horizon.

"Welcome to my favorite spot," you smile, "Where I go whenever I'd feel at my low, I'd come here, take in the scenery."

"By yourself?" She asks

"Well, yeah," you sigh, "But, if you'd like to come on adventure outings with me I'd love your company."

"I'd like to y/n," she smiles

"By the way, do you have a record player?" You ask out of the blue

"Yeah why?" She asks

"You'll see," you smile, “Also, I’m about to send you a playlist I made of all the classics I loved listening to growing up.”

You send it to her, “You don’t necessarily need to listen to them right away. It’s for whenever you feel like it.”

Mid-Winter In the next month, Daniela had been your ride to school and in the next week, during finals, came Daniela's birthday. Daniela told you how her mother is throwing her a huge birthday dinner and how she won't be able to spend her birthday with you.

"Hey it's okay Dani," you smile, "Besides, I got you this."

You hand her a wrapped folder-looking present.

"I gotta go to band," you smile, "I'll see you on Monday."

You step up onto your toes and gently place a kiss on Daniela's cheek. You turned your heel before you could see Daniela's reaction. You also didn't see how some flock of girls noticed your cheek kiss gift to Daniela. She looks down at her present and unwrap it; a Rare David Bowie "Heroes" Promo Vinyl and a card. Once she opens the card, a senior photo of you falls into her palm.

"This is one of my most prized Vinyl's," Daniela reads aloud on the back of the photo, "But, I'd want my favorite gal to have it since you love it as much as I do."

Daniela squeals of happiness and gently hugs her her newly added vinyl to her collection. She runs over to her locker to place it in there for the rest of the 

"That girl will get in our way," one of the popular girls snarl

"We have to do something about this," another one says

During lunch you were minding your own business, it was a rare occasion that you'd be in the cafeteria. You look up when you saw 3 torsos in your peripherals

"Stay away from Daniela," one of the popular girls comes up to you, "She's ours. Not yours."

Daniela perks her head up to her name being called. 

"I'm sorry?" You ask, "sorry not sorry I attracted the coolest girl in school by flexing on an instrument. At least she sees something in me that has potential, I don't know why you three gawk over her when you have nothing to show off to her for."

One of the girls opens her basic white girl coffee and splashes it into your face and clothes. You burst out of the cafeteria, back into the band room, not caring about if Daniela saw.

"That'll teach her," she snickers

"What the hell was that?!" Daniela asks, snarling at them

"Hi Daniela," one of them tries to play it off, flirtatious-sounding

"Don't you 'hi Daniela' me," Daniela yells, "Answer. My. Question. What the hell was that?!"

"She’s taking you away from us," one of the girls blurts out

"I'm not even into any of you!" She growls at them, "Don't even flock around me anymore. And if I see you three doing so in the slightest, I will make sure you get the same treatment you treated y/n.."

She takes her backpack and runs into your direction. Of course it was into the band room. She manages to find you in your same practice room however, it was dark. She opens the door and sits next to you. Daniela then opens her backpack and takes out a pair of leggings and a hoodie.

"You okay?" She asks

She looks away when you change your pants in a hurry then stripping down into her hoodie. The smell of lemon and mint eased your senses.

"Yeah," you lean against her shoulder, "Thanks for the extra pair of clothes..."

"No worries," she says, "I'm sorry for them. I didn't even realize that they would do such a thing..."

"No it's okay," you say, "It's not you who should be apologizing. But those three never will. So I'll be over it in time."

The both of you leaned on each other until the bell rang. However, you were about to leave for class until you felt Daniela snake her arm around your waist.

"Class can wait," Daniela says, "I'm staying with you..."

You feel your cheeks heat up as you lean your head back onto Daniela's shoulder. You take out your phone, thank the gods it didn’t get stained with coffee and plug in your earbuds. You put one into your left ear and offer the other one to Daniela to put into her right ear. She takes it, places it into her right ear and you begin playing the first song that came up.

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” - Arctic Monkeys

“You like them too?” Daniela smiles, trying to lighten the mood

“I do,” You smile, but looking in the empty void of the practice room

“Well, we have one group we both like,” She smiles

After school you explained to your band teacher why you didn't show up to class, thankfully your band teacher is lenient and excused you for mental health reasons. You and Daniela decide to get dinner together per Daniela's suggestion. She wanted to make it up to you for letting that cafeteria incident happen earlier in the day and for you to celebrate her birthday with her a day early. You didn't want to go anywhere fancy so Daniela gets the both of you food from her favorite coffee shop and takes the both of you to your cliffside spot.

"So Bela has a glass eye?" You ask, "Is that why she always has her hair covering her right eye?"

"Yeah because we like to fuck around with her and continuously steal it and hide it from her." Daniela laughs, "If you didn't know, I have two different eye colors."

She lifts her bangs to show you. You kind of look in awe before she puts her bangs back down.

"My other sister; Cassandra has a lazy eye," she says, "So basically my family is full of broken people..."

"Maybe it isn't a bad thing all the time," you say, "Having imperfections are what make you who you are really."

You roll up your right sleeve and reveal some silver scars.

"Sometimes past relationships can go awry and... Make you do things you regret," you sigh, "But hey, these were from like.... 3 years ago so I’m doing a lot better than last time."

She gently takes a hold of your arm and places many kisses along and over your silver strands. You felt your cheeks heat up once more.

"You're right," Daniela agrees, "Well, I know now you're alive to tell the stories about them. If you're comfortable with doing so."

Once again she snakes her arm around your waist and leans her head against yours.

"Your family also sounds interesting," you add

"Interestingly Chaotic," Daniela jokes

"Chaotic is more fun," you flirt

Daniela lifts her head away to look at you. You look down at her lips and lean forward. Daniela meets you halfway.

"I've decided to go to California for Musicians Institute," you say, when you pull sway from Daniela’s lips

Daniela freezes.

"Dani?" You ask, looking at her, cupping her cheeks into your hands, "What's wrong?"

She doesn't say anything but plays it off like nothing happened.

"Sorry-it's nothing," Daniela sighs

"Are you sure?" You ask, "You can trust me."

"It's okay, I'm sure," she says

"Well, whenever you're ready to talk about it," you say

Spring Seniors are itching to get out of high school. Everyone either had committed to colleges, gotten a date for prom. But you? You got yourself the top prodigy artist in the school as your girlfriend and gotten into one of the best music schools for your field of music. Best of both worlds. It was after school Daniela had slipped a note into your band locker to meet you at your guys' hangout spot at the edge of town. You park at the parking lot and see a blanket laid out near the cliffside; Daniela sitting there; noticing her red hair.

“Dani?” You call out, shutting your car door

She turns to you and you could easily see a smile across her face as you catch up to her.

“Hey you,” you smile, sitting right next to her, “What are we doing out here?”

You look out to the cliffside; the forestry and the giant lake in view. Your favorite place to be when you want to be alone; has officially turned into a place you want to be, with Daniela. 

“y/n, when we met that night, I’ve felt something in me that I have never felt with any other girl,” Daniela confesses

You felt your heart beginning to thump in your chest. 

Why was she beginning to confess everything now?

She turns to you and you notice a small instrument in her hands; a ukulele. You watch her left arm make a chord; it was pretty... 

Tear in my Heart?...

Sometimes you gotta bleed to know

Daniela easily struggles to make the chords and sing at the same time. However, you weren’t paying attention enough to know she’s struggling.

But it takes someone to come around To show you how

You watch her attempt to sing to you... For the first time ever, you were so touched. 

“Fuck,” She growls

She stops after realizing she’ll never finish the song properly however, you reach out to her and engulf her in a hug.

“You learned how to play ukulele? For me?” You ask

“It’s-it’s not perfect but- but I really wanted to impress you,” She confesses, “But, I’m still working on figuring out how to sing and play this thing at the same time.. I’m sorry it’s bad...”

“Dani, it wasn’t bad,” You smile, “I’m so touched... You took the time out to do this for me. If I’m going to confess something, remember when you and I went out to your favorite coffee shop and I ‘wasn’t paying attention’ to you?” 

She nods, “How could I forget?”

You reach into your backpack and take out your own sketchbook. You flip to your bookmarked page and reveal that you had done a graphite drawing of Daniela. 

“It’s not perfect either but-”

Before you could continue, Daniela leans her head towards yours and places her lips gently onto yours. When she pulls away to look at you, you open your eyes and begin processing what Daniela had done. However, your hands put down the sketchbook and cup Daniela’s cheeks and your lips crash onto hers. You climb into her lap and she snakes her arms around your waist.

“Dani,” You call her name, breathlessly

The both of you pull away to breathe and you could see the smile sweep across her face. 

“You learned how to draw? For me?” She asks the same exact question you asked her

“Technically I know how to draw but, I can’t draw as well as you,” You smile

“You kidding?” Daniela asks, reaching for your sketchbook, “you got my eyes- the Blue and green, the choker I always wear, my hair including the little hairs on my shaved side, beanie detail... You did it all babe.”

“I did?” You ask, in awe

She smiles as she nods at you. You give her another kiss before finally the question you had comes to mind.

"Now what is it that you really got me out here for?" You ask

"y/n y/l/n, would you like to go to prom with me?" She asks

"Yes Dani, a million times yes!" You happily say

You kiss her again before the both of you decide to talk on prom outfits.

"I was thinking we could match the color of your choker," you suggested

"We could," she smiles, "I'm down. One condition; I'm wearing the suit."

"No complaints there love," you smile

After the both of you settled a day to get your prom outfits, the both of you just begin to watch the sunset.

"When are you moving again?" Daniela asks

"End of August," you reply, "I'll be sure to come visit or if you're able, come visit me."

"I'll take you up on that offer," Daniela smiles, still trying to hide how sad she is that you’ll be moving soon

The two of you went to prom however, got so bored the both of you decided to ditch it and make your own prom. The both of you ended up staying at Daniela's place for the first time for yourself at least.

"Is this is girl that swept my daughter off her feet?" Her mother comes in

"Yes mother," Daniela smiles, kissing your temple

"Oh aren’t you a dream,” She compliments, “Daniela has told us so much about you.”

“Mother!” Daniela yelps, hiding her heated cheeks

“Oh, is that so Ms. Dimitrescu?” You ask, looking at Daniela, who was clearly blushing

Summer You pretty much got instantly accepted into the family. You’ve spent most of your summer with them. 

“Do you have to go?” Daniela asks, her arms wrapped around you like a sloth

“I do,” You say, “I told you before, it’ll be okay, we’ll make this work.”

“I know,” She sighs, “But, what if we let the long distance get the best of us?”

“It won’t baby, not as long as we make the communication thing happen. That’s key.”

“I- just...” Daniela stutters

“You just what?” You ask, propping yourself on your elbows, looking down at her

“I have separation anxiety,” Daniela confesses, “I don’t want you to go, I want you to stay here... But, I don’t want you to stay here just for me...”

“Dani...” You say, “I would stay here for you if I could.”

Your fingers caress her cheek as she leans into the palm of your hand. 

“Don’t stay here for me,” She says, “I- Just don’t forget about me...”

“Dani babe, How could I ever forget about the girl that I attracted? Saved my skin from three petty girls? Especially the girl that did some music for me, regardless if she had no prior music experience. I could never forget you my love.”

You drop your head down to give her a long, lingering kiss.

“Plus, if I had the choice, I’d take you with me in a heartbeat,” You smile, pulling away

Daniela smiles as she wraps her arm around your neck to drag your face down to hers. 

3 Months Later... You knock on the door to the Dimitrescu Estate and notice Bela had opened the door.

“Is Daniela here?” You ask Bela

“Daniela, your girlfriend is here!” Bela calls from the front door

“You want to come in or what? It’s cold.” She smiles, “Welcome back.”

Daniela practically jumps down the stairs as soon as she sees your face appear in the doorway.

“Baby!” Daniela screams happily as she picks you up to give you a big bear hug

You hug her tightly as she spins you around all excitedly. The two of you share a kiss before hearing Bela and Cassandra jokingly barf at your PDA.

“Welcome home honey,” Alcina smiles, giving you a giant hug, “How is California?”

“Insane,” You sigh, “It’s a whole different world.. But, I’ve been video chatting with your daughter every night.”

“Daniela has been almost moping about every night after the two of you video chat and-”

“Mother!” Daniela interrupts before taking you gently by the arm and dragging you right back out of the front door

The both of you headed to Daniela’s signature coffee shop to catch up. Despite it only being 3 months you’ve moved to California for your music career.

“I’ve finally gotten around to listening to your playlist since you left,” Daniela confesses

“I’ve sent you that like ages ago,’ You slightly chuckle, “But, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“I practically listen to it wherever I go; drives, around campus, even at my apprenticeship.” Daniela explains, “Clients are loving my girlfriend’s taste in music.”

“Awwww,” You blush, “I’ve began taking some other music genres to practice bass. Well, taking them from my professor when he assigns video assignments.”

“So, what is it you want to do when you play your bass?” Daniela asks

“Oh?” You ask her, “Well, I’ve been to many concerts and I really love how all of the musicians would be performing on stage to millions of people. I want to do that too.”

“Who do you have in mind?” Daniela asks

“That depends on who’s hiring,” You say, “But, If you really wanted to get answers out of me; Waterparks, Panic! At the Disco... To name a few.”

“Those are some big bands,” Daniela leans back into her seat, “But, I know you’ll be able to do it. And when you do, I’ll come to every single show; make one of those giant posters where it says: ‘my girlfriend is the bassist!’.. That kind of thing.”

Your face heats up and you shove your face into a mug of coffee. Daniela lets out a peppy-giggle and lifts her head so her face is toward the ceiling.

“Lets drive,” She suggests

“I’d thought you’d never ask,” You smile

As soon as the both of you had gotten into Daniela’s car, she puts a couple of fingers under your chin to gently pull your face towards hers, the both of your lips molding to each others’. You flip on the radio and put in your playlist. The familiar riff of the first song the both of you had listened to together. 

[ahgaseda]

aura | three

driving me crazy, look in my eyes, follow me, come here, dance with me now, I’m gonna make you feel like that...

summary : back again at a camp for kids that can’t behave, you are still brokenhearted over your ill-fated romance with Jaebeom, until your friend Jackson offers to help make your ex jealous in exchange for helping him land the most unattainable girl at camp.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, recurring alcohol or recreational drug use, graphic sexual content, brief mentions of illegal activities, potentially triggering elements involving toxic relationships and emotional manipulation, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

Every step down the path was slowed by dread and anxiety. The auditorium sat on a small hill, looming over the rest of the camp, and the sight made your stomach turn each time you laid eyes on it.

Such an unassuming building and yet it still shot nerves through you.

Entering through the double doors, you were blasted by air conditioning, which was a bit excessive with the crisp morning air. You simpered when you made eye contact with a few of the other campers. It was a small group, as to be expected for these little sessions.

Then, your gaze shifted to the wall where Jaebeom was leaning back and had just looked up at the sound of the door opening.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned, wanting to march right back out. Fate was such a cruel bitch.

Jaebeom cocked his head at your reaction, following you with his eyes, and asked sweetly, “Sleep well?”

“Yes,” you replied, curt, avoiding his stare.

Jaebeom shifted closer and whispered, “Did you think of me last night?”

If only you knew how you had filled his thoughts and dreams. Those kisses in the pool still made his heart race.

Smirking with a chance to torment him, you retorted, “Not even once. My mind is full of Jackson and how good his head looked between my thighs.”

Jaebeom frowned, the blood draining from his face. Hearing about your escapades with Jackson made him insane, like being dragged through pieces of broken glass.

“That bastard,” Jaebeom huffed under his breath.

Your arrogance faded and you turned somber. Part of you realized that you were giving yourself away to spite him. It was like trying to heal a burn by directly applying more fire.

Doctor Ambrose stepped inside, greeting everyone with her signature smile. “Good morning. Are we ready to begin?”

No one was. Not one of these poor souls wanted to discuss their daddy or mommy issues in group form. But it was mandated by the camp and having been attending for many years, you were accustomed to dodging.

You and the others followed Doctor Ambrose into the main auditorium, approaching a ring of folding chairs waiting on the stage. You swallowed the lump in your throat and avoided a look at Jaebeom as you took a seat.

This was the room where it happened - where you surrendered your virtuous flower. Blah, blah, blah, you thought to yourself. Eventually, you were going to have to come to terms with the fact you were less bitter about losing your virginity and more broken at having lost your heart.

The theater was the one place no one bothered to lock after curfew since it was solely used for group sessions and the occasional motivational speech, but if someone did remember to lock up, the door code was common knowledge. Guys went there to blaze up. Girls went to sneak drinks.

Jaebeom had brought you inside. The relationship had grown and was leading to a physical consummation of your feelings for each other. You knew exactly what would happen. After all, you had snuck out of your cabin in the middle of the night to meet a boy beneath the stars.

You let him lay you down on the stage, behind the heavy velvet curtain. Jaebeom at least had the wherewithal to put his jacket down for you to rest on.

You stole a glance of the shadow behind the curtain, not too far from where you sat, and your expression soured. You could still remember the rampant beating of your heart when Jaebeom kissed you with all he had and laid you down beneath him.

The memory raced across your mind in steady bursts. Your eyes burned at how gentle he had been with you, how loving. Jaebeom convinced you that he was madly in love and that there was a future between you and him.

And you were such a fool to believe it. You were over the moon thinking you had finally found love in the most unlikely of places. With someone you trusted. Someone you considered a friend.

Taking a deep breath, you were officially angry.

The time spent with Jackson had taken off the rose-colored glasses. You were able to see your affair with Jaebeom for what it was. And though you were still hopelessly in love with him, you were mad as hell for what he had done to you.

Doctor Ambrose called your name and began, “Let’s start with you. Why don’t you tell us the behavior that warranted your presence back at camp this year?”

You crossed your legs and sang, “Oh, where to begin, Doc? I lied. I cheated. I stole. Short of murder, my rap sheet is long.”

“You’ve been coming here for many years and you know that’s not what these sessions are about,” she chided, giving you a stern look. “Skip the bravado and get straight to the real talk.”

You narrowed your eyes. Ambrose always did hit the nail on the head. That’s why she was one of the few people at this godforsaken place that held everyone’s respect. Which was impressive in its own right since you and your fellow rich, troubled kids had very little respect for anyone.

But if Doctor Ambrose thought you were going to bear your soul to a room full of people that didn’t give a damn about you - Jaebeom included - she was sorely mistaken.

You sighed and continued, “I’m sure it’s common knowledge by now that I had a terrible lapse in judgement last summer and that lapse in judgement had a lot of unforeseen consequences.”

Jaebeom was unmoving in his seat, but his eyes were heavy on you.

Ambrose gave you her undivided attention and spoke softly, “Go on.”

You shrugged, hoping to hide just how miserably the words were coming from your mouth. “I lashed out. I cycled through all of my emotions and when they were too painful, I did something bad. Something that distracted me from how angry or hurt I was. Classic reckless human behavior.”

Her response was blunt, but genuine, “It’s called self-destructive behavior and you were punishing yourself for the pain someone else inflicted on you.”

You studied her, wanting to smack this woman across the face for defining you in a single sentence. “Forget psychiatrist,” you scoffed. “You’re a psychic.”

“I know you,” Ambrose said tenderly. “And you are not defined by your mistakes.”

You rolled your eyes, though you would love to believe that. “We all are, Doctor Ambrose,” you told her morosely. Then, your tone shifted, “Now, please take the spotlight off of me before I do something bad. Like I said, it’s what I’m known for.”

Ambrose exhaled loudly, conflicted, but decided not to push you. Turning to the next participant, she called, “Jaebeom, your turn.”

Jaebeom was still looking at you.

“Why don’t you tell us the activities that landed you back for yet another summer here?”

Jaebeom grumbled, “I’m a dick. The end.”

A few of the other attendees chortled.

“Jaebeom, everyone here knows you’re more complex than that,” Ambrose shot back.

“Am I?”

She cocked her head. “You don’t think so.”

“Ask her,” Jaebeom said, waving his hand in your direction. “Everyone knows what I did.”

You didn’t dare look at him, offering no absolution. You kept your gaze firmly rooted to Doctor Ambrose, who was now glancing between the two of you suspiciously.

Tapping her pen, Ambrose ordered, “After this group session I want to see both of you in my office.”

Your heart sank and you pleaded, “But, Doctor Ambrose…”

“Moving on,” she cut you off.

You folded your arms tightly across your chest in defiance, stiff in your seat. Jaebeom stretched out his legs and braced his arms on his thighs, keeping his head low.

Tuning out the conversations going around the circle of other campers discussing their toxic and sometimes illegal activities, you could only think about how angry you were. How it was billowing and growing inside of you until it threatened to burst.

Though Jaebeom was in the seat beside yours, he felt an entire world away. What had you done to him to deserve this? And for fuck’s sake, why couldn’t you stop loving him? If you fell in love with someone, couldn’t you ultimately fall back out?

Stealing a glance in the corner of your eye, Jaebeom looked up at that same moment and your eyes met. You looked away immediately, bitter and vengeful, but Jaebeom persisted. For someone who prided himself on being set in his ways, he couldn’t stand how you spun him on his edge.

You made him want to risk it all.

When the group session ended, Ambrose twirled the pen between her fingers and said, “I suppose we can forgo my office and just speak here.”

“We have nothing to talk about,” Jaebeom spoke up, venomous.

“I think there’s plenty,” she asserted, studying you intently. “Wanna tell me about it?”

Your eyes glistened when they met hers. You wanted to tell her she was right. That you had punished yourself for a year because you fell for a boy - the wrong boy. It was stupid. It was juvenile. And you resented yourself to hell and back for it.

“You wouldn’t understand,” you finally murmured, voice shaky.

She smiled, comforting. “Try me.”

Jaebeom could see you were about to crack. He could hear the weakness seeping into your words. Running a hand through his hair, he blurted out, “It’s my fault.”

Ambrose questioned levelly, “How so?”

“Be quiet,” you hissed.

“I fucked up,” Jaebeom confessed.

“Language,” she corrected loosely.

Jaebeom frowned. “I seduced her. I convinced her I was in love.”

“And were you?”

“No, I…,” Jaebeom trailed, like he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “I don’t know.”

You glared with nothing short of loathing at the floor.

Ambrose was putting the pieces together and she didn’t hesitate to scold, “What was your purpose, Jaebeom? What were you trying to achieve?”

Jaebeom paused a moment. Then, he finally admitted, “I was trying to get her into bed.”

Ambrose clocked a glance at you and said, “I’m assuming you succeeded.”

Your breaths came faster. Your heart was revving like the engine of Jackson’s blood red Corvette. Any minute you were going to explode.

“I went too far,” Jaebeom mulled, scratching his head. “I had never gone that far before, but I was addicted. I had no idea it would… I didn’t know she would…”

“You’re full of shit,” you snapped.

Doctor Ambrose called your name, giving you the same warning about profanity.

You leveled your scowl at Jaebeom, who had already bowed his head in submission or shame, and sneered, “I will never believe a word you say. You knew exactly what you were doing. You wanted someone to hurt as much as you hurt.”

Jaebeom still couldn’t meet your eyes. Pathetic, he thought to himself, but he couldn’t face your wrath. He couldn’t see the pain manifested on your beautiful face.

“Congratulations,” you continued, rising to your feet. “I know how you feel and I almost derailed my life because of you!”

Ambrose held out a hand amicably. “Please, sit.”

“No, I’m out of here,” you barked, gritting your teeth to keep the tears at bay. “And if you plan on physically making me stay in the same room with this asshole a minute longer, my stepfather’s attorneys would love to blow this shit wide open.”

Doctor Ambrose gave you a nod and sat back down.

Your steps echoed through the frigid silence of the auditorium and you nearly knocked the doors off their hinges when you pushed them open to escape outside.

When you had gone, Jaebeom exhaled heavily.

Ambrose looked at him. She could see the guilt weighing down his shoulders and though she didn’t want to take pity on him after what you had just revealed, compassion was a cornerstone of who she was as a person.

“Jaebeom, it goes without saying, but I’m going to say it,” Ambrose whispered for his ears only. “Breaking other people doesn’t fix you.”

Jaebeom stood to full height without another word and skulked away, hiding his teary eyes behind his long black hair.

“The nerve of that bitch! I know that she knows what happened last summer,” you vented, pacing back and forth in front of Jackson as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Everyone on the east coast knows by now. I had to hear about it for the first month of school on a daily basis!”

“I know,” Jackson replied patiently.

You tried to mimic the voices of the nosy, gossiping girls back home, ��‘Can you believe she spread her legs for him? Did she really think he loved her? I thought she was smart. Turns out she’s a dumb whore like the rest of us!’”

Jackson grimaced. He remembered that morning, when you told him you slept with Jaebeom. You were so happy, so sure of what you wanted. And he knew it was going to unravel, leaving you holding all the pieces. “No one said that.”

“Everyone said that, Jacks! Admit it,” you yelled.

Of course, they did. Jackson had never threatened so many people in his life. Jackson had a lot of friends, but he only had one best friend. Whenever they spoke of you and Jaebeom, it made his skin crawl. Made his fists clench on instinct.

He was supposed to protect you.

Jackson rose from the bed, grasping your arms and staring you in the face. “Who cares what other people say? I sure as shit don’t!”

You cast your gaze down, shifting from angry to sad. “And he really sat there acting like he didn’t think I would take it so personally,” you whispered, trembling.

Jackson gathered you in his arms, squeezing tight. “He’s an idiot. It is known,” he quipped dryly.

You pulled back and sighed, “Maybe we should just fuck.”

Jackson frowned, but quickly hid his disappointment with a swift, “I’m not in the mood.”

You quirked a brow. “Seriously?”

Jackson released you and teased, “Yeah, I’m not a faucet.”

You let a smirk play at your lips and reached for his belt. “What if I…”

Jackson grabbed your wrists and chided you so sternly you almost faltered, “Listen. You are more than sex. You understand me?”

There were very few occasions Jackson reprimanded you and he always snared your full attention when it happened. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you murmured, “...Okay.”

Jackson simpered. “You don’t need to fuck. You need a hug.”

You chuckled, squeaking in surprise when he pulled you to his chest faster than you thought possible. You smiled, burying your face against his neck as he enveloped you in his embrace.

It was exactly what you needed.

You set your hands to his shoulders, feeling burly muscles underneath. Jackson always radiated heat and energy, and you were content to let him hold you forever. Jackson was warmth and safety.

He was home.

After a moment, you blurted to alleviate the tension, “Can we go get food?”

Jackson exclaimed, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The two of you walked arm in arm to the mess hall. It had been ungodly, the hour you woke to attend your group therapy session, but it meant you were starving for breakfast and the smell that hit your nose when you entered the dining room made you salivate on the spot.

Approaching the line, Jackson said, “Damn it. I forgot to tell you I’m sitting with Yeona today.”

“Oh,” you replied, remembering you didn’t get a chance to talk to him much after you had pounced on him. “I take it everything went well last night.”

“Yeah, we hit it off. I’m laying the groundwork.”

You rolled your eyes. Part of you was rooting in Yeona’s corner, that she stick to her guns and save herself for someone who loved her. The other part felt guilty as hell for being part of the same scheme that destroyed you last summer.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you told him, “I think I want some alone time to myself anyway. I’ll sit in the corner.”

Jackson eyed you worriedly. “Are you sure? I can totally blow her off.”

“Positive,” you insisted, beaming at the gesture. “Go with Yeona. You two would make a really cute couple.”

“Ha. Ha,” said Jackson in mock laughter.

Together you got your food and then parted in the aisleway. Yeona smiled when Jackson joined her by the window and you vaguely wished happiness for them. Jackson wasn’t like Jaebeom. 

Maybe Yeona would be good for Jackson. She could help him work through his commitment issues. You had seen firsthand what his parents’ marriage had done to him. It was no surprise he broke off relationships as soon as they started to become serious.

Taking the empty table in the corner, you backed against the wall. Pulling a magazine out of your purse, you placed it next to your tray and opened to a random page, biting into your toasted bagel.

Jaebeom leaned against the adjacent door frame, hands in his pockets. He was sporting his trademarked leather jacket and his hair had strayed into his eyes while watching you.

He was at war with himself over what to say.

First and foremost he wanted to apologize, but Lim Jaebeom had way too much pride for that. Secondly, he considered offering you a better deal than whatever Jackson was giving you, but given your furor at the group session, Jaebeom knew better than to stoke your wrath again.

Jaebeom thought of all those times last summer when he caught himself staring at you. How could someone so beautiful and amazing be interested in the likes of him? You were confident and fearless, a little rough around the edges with a heart of gold. You were everything he aspired to be and you brought out the best in him without even knowing it.

By then, Jaebeom was in too deep. He could feel himself falling for you and he forbade himself from ever putting his heart on the line. And so he cut you loose.

Jaebeom remembered your face when he spoke those words. I never loved you. The joy left your face. The light fled your eyes. With four words, he had broken someone completely and it kept him awake at night.

Sex was a release for him. No more, no less. Jaebeom could fuck a girl and never see her again afterward, and it wouldn’t bother him for a second. After her - the woman that loved and left him - Jaebeom didn’t attach sex with emotion and certainly not intimacy or commitment.

Then, he had you. Suddenly, he wanted to wake up to you in the morning. He wanted to fall asleep in your arms every night. He didn’t fuck you… he made love to you. He felt passion for the first time in a long time. When it was over, he didn’t want to leave like he had always done. And that scared the shit out of him.

Jaebeom realized you had begun to heal him and he panicked.

Even now, Jaebeom wanted you back. He needed another chance. His first instinct was always to run when he felt emotions he didn’t understand, but he could fight back this time. He could change for you, couldn’t he?

When Jaebeom slid into the seat beside you, you weren’t the least bit surprised.

“What are you reading?” he asked nonchalantly, picking up the magazine and fanning the pages.

“Chick magazine,” you deadpanned. “There’s an article in there on Ten Ways to Achieve Female Orgasm. You should read it.”

Another snide jab at his bedroom skills. Jaebeom wrinkled his nose, but rebuffed you, “I only got one round with you. How do you know I couldn’t give you the best loving of your life?”

It was a provocative thought. You felt your heart stutter a little, but your mind was fully in control now, and you shot back, “Because I don’t think you know what love is.”

Jaebeom met your eyes and this time, you didn’t back down. “You know what I meant,” he huffed.

“So, I’m a mind reader now? Good to know,” you retorted, acerbic.

Jaebeom turned to you, leaning in and whispering, “Tonight. After curfew. Sneak out with me.”

You shook your head, mouth full of food. Swallowing, you told him coolly, “I have a regularly scheduled dick appointment with Jackson.”

“Cancel it,” Jaebeom said, appearing unaffected though it made him want to destroy Jackson a thousand times over. “I’ll have some wine. We can go to the lookout. You know, like old times.”

You scowled at him and yet, you wanted nothing more than to go back to those old times. Before you were stupid. Before you fell in love with him.

“Give me one good reason,” you hissed, taking a sip of your orange juice.

Jaebeom shifted, like the words pained him. More from pride than anything else. “I just want to talk to you. I miss you. As a friend.”

You didn’t say anything, but you shuffled your attention between him and Jackson. The latter was making Yeona laugh heartily and you felt a twinge of jealousy. Not from a place of malice, but a protectiveness over your best friend.

Jackson would tell you not to. He would tell Jaebeom to take a fucking hike.

Angling back to Jaebeom, you warned, “If you so much as grab my boob, I will kick you in the balls and leave you there.”

Jaebeom smiled, but quickly fought it. “That’s fair.”

“What time?”

“Eleven.”

You nodded. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the spot.”

Jaebeom rose and you were sad to see him go, but he added, “Nah, I will come to your cabin and get you. I don’t want you walking at night alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

Jackson stitched his brows, having listened to you recount the exchange to him back at his cabin.

“Of course, chivalry is dead,” your best friend exclaimed incredulously. “He killed it.”

“Jacks, please,” you whined. “He just wants to talk.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Jackson countered firmly and he looked a heartbeat away from combusting. “He hates that you’re sleeping with me. It’s jealousy. Plain and simple.”

You propped your hands on your hips, frustrated from arguing with him. “Wasn’t that the plan? To make him come after me again?”

Jackson remembered what had started all of this in the first place and he changed his tune. “Right, yeah, but this is just going the same route as last summer. You see that, right?”

“No, it’s not. I’m wiser now.”

Jackson approached briskly, taking you in his arms and roaming his hands around your waist. “You could just stay here with me,” he coaxed, voice a low growl. “I can eat that pussy like it’s my last meal.”

You snorted a laugh, but slipped out of his arms. “Nice try, but you were right. I’m more than just sex and I need to see where his head is at.”

Jackson sighed in defeat.

“Don’t wait up for me tonight,” you called back to him as you slipped through the door.

Jackson watched you go and stood rooted in place. Fuck, he was conflicted. Every instinct he had told him to stop you, but how could he? What right did he have to you in the first place?

He was just the guy you fucked to get back at another guy.

Jackson exhaled loudly through his nose. He could feel himself slipping, losing his nerve. Even when he sat with Yeona, making her smile and laugh, and noticing she leaned into his touches, his eyes still wandered to you. And when Jaebeom had appeared by your side, Jackson could feel his heart sinking into the bottom of his stomach.

Jackson reminded himself of the deal. He would get Yeona and you would get Jaebeom. That was it. Those were the terms you both agreed on and thus far, everything was going quite smoothly.

But Jackson was thinking of you and now he was thinking of Jaebeom touching you. And it made him want to die.

The day passed by at a glacial pace. By the time night fell, you began the long, arduous process of doing your hair and makeup. When there was a knock at the door, you had to stop yourself from sprinting across the room to answer.

Instead, you made his ass wait.

“Hey,” you greeted, stepping through and shutting the door behind you a moment later.

“Hey,” Jaebeom replied, scanning you over. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, noting the backpack slung over his shoulder. “What you got back there?”

“None of your business,” he teased. “Ready to go?”

You pursed your lips, watching Jaebeom turn and stride away, expecting you to follow. Which, of course, you did.

The lookout was a small patch of open field between the trees. It was the perfect spot for stargazing and late night makeout sessions. You and Jaebeom had spent many hours in this place. As did you and Jackson.

It was a place of clarity and self-reflection. Something about seeing the stars so clearly, away from the noise and smog of the city, made you feel a sense of belonging. That everything would be okay. Sooner or later.

Jaebeom dropped his backpack and began rifling through it. Reading your mind, he called, “Don’t sit yet.”

You were about to complain, but then he stood and fanned out a red flannel blanket, smoothing out the corners over the grass.

“Now, you can sit.”

You almost chuckled, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Plopping down, you overlapped your ankles and watched him take the spot beside you.

“Wow, this is actually romantic,” you smarted, monotonous.

Jaebeom popped open the bottle of wine and took a swig. “I’m full of surprises,” he quipped, handing you the bottle.

A bit perturbed he had neglected to bring separate glasses, you took a sip and countered bitterly, “Not really. I remember all the romantic gestures and sweet words of last summer.”

Jaebeom sighed. So did he.

He had taken something so precious and innocent and filled it with poison. Jaebeom could have walked away at any point. And even worse, when all was said and done, he could have stayed.

There was a lull of silence and you didn’t mind. Jaebeom studied the stars, feigning interest. You turned your head, looking at his profile alight with the glow of the moon.

“Jaebeom, why did you bring me here?”

Jaebeom swallowed and whispered, “I hate myself for what I did to you.”

You frowned. “And what about all the other girls?”

Jaebeom shook his head, remorseful only for you. “They weren’t naive. They weren’t inexperienced,” he explained, somber. “They weren’t my friends. They weren’t you.”

You narrowed your eyes. The anger was pooling in your belly again. And your next question was scathing, “So, what sets me apart is that you hurt me the most?”

“Yes,” Jaebeom said, feeling small. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

You cried, “Why me?”

“You were the holy grail. Every guy wanted you.”

Biting back tears, you whimpered, “You talk about me like I’m not a person.”

Jaebeom realized that and he looked away, mulling over if he could put his feelings into words for once. “Would you believe me if I said that looking back I meant the things I said to you - that I loved every moment we spent together last summer?”

You thought about it for a moment and then you answered, “No. It’s what I’ve wanted you to say and yet. . . I don’t believe you. Everything you said and did was the means to an end.”

Jaebeom didn’t deny it. “I thought so, too. But when I got home, you were all I could think about. I wanted to see you and hold you. I missed having you in my life.”

The tears were flowing freely now and you turned your head away.

Jaebeom came closer, cupping your cheek and wiping the tears with his thumb.

You sobbed, “Why did you do this?”

“Shh, baby,” he whispered under his breath.

“You hate yourself for hurting me. I hate myself for loving you.”

Jaebeom felt like a gaping open wound, one that refused to heal. And yet your pain surpassed his own. He would rather writhe in misery than see you crying in his arms. Knowing that he had driven you this far.

“You were right,” he choked out. “I wanted you to know hurt the way I did. I envied you. You never let anyone get to you. I thought in some twisted way I wouldn’t be alone and I could finally move past what happened to me.”

You could feel yourself falling for it again and you lowered your head.

“I’m sorry,” Jaebeom finally said.

Those words you had wanted for so long and they did nothing for you. They didn’t fix you. They didn’t numb the pain. They didn’t restore what had been taken.

You pushed his arms away and got to your feet, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. Stomping toward the gravel path, Jaebeom was hot on your heels, calling your name.

When he grabbed your arms and spun you back around to face him, you yelled, “Let me go, Jaebeom.”

“Tell me what to do,” he pleaded. “Tell me what you need me to do!”

“Break this fucking spell,” you shouted back at him. “Make me hate you. Because I love you and it’s killing me!”

That was the last thing Jaebeom wanted. He was consumed by you. There were those words again and Jaebeom couldn’t stand it. No one had ever loved him, much less fallen in love with him, and he didn’t know what to do.

So, he gathered you in his arms and melded his lips to yours. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back hard, carding your fingers into his hair.

Jaebeom held your waist and hips snugly, trapping you to him. You pressed yourself to his chest and tugged on his hair, earning a groan. You slipped your tongue past his lips and Jaebeom made a noise at your aggression. He could taste the salt of your tears.

This was stupid, you thought to yourself. You just never learned, did you? But God, kissing him was amazing. You let your hands fall from his head to roam his shoulders, pressing your nails into his shirt. You felt so small in his arms, like you were lost in him.

Jaebeom began to move, steering you with him back toward the blanket, still kissing you like his life depended on it. You weren’t surprised when he lay you down, but Jaebeom was beyond surprised when you wrestled him to his back and straddled his hips.

You wanted to grin at the shocked expression he was sporting, but you only caught a brief glimpse of his widened eyes before smashing your lips back on his.

You just wanted to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until you were satisfied, satiated. Maybe then you could finally get on with your life. It was senseless logic, but all you knew was he kissed so fucking good. It made you crazy. Just like everything else about him.

For fuck’s sake, you would never understand why you were in love with the one thing determined to destroy you.

“Stop. Stop,” you suddenly told him, panting and breathless.

Jaebeom looked at your hand pressed to his chest, watching you sit up on top of him, and his heart sank. He knew that look. You were about to bolt.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, more to yourself as you brushed your hair out of your face with your fingers.

Jaebeom stroked his palms up your thighs, clad in the tightest jeans he had ever seen, and coaxed, “Why?”

You blinked, thinking of an answer. There were many, but you were trying to invalidate them on the spot.

Jaebeom sat up, wrapping an arm around your hips and rocking you closer to him. “Tell me,” he mumbled, pressing a wet kiss to your neck.

Your eyes fluttered and you felt resolve melting away each time his lips touched over your racing pulse.

“You’ll leave me again,” you cried shakily.

Jaebeom shook his head, proceeding to suck beneath your ear. “I’m not going anywhere,” he growled.

You ran your hands through his hair, hips arching ever so slightly in search of friction. Your body was heating up, excitement pulsing through your veins. You craved him. Lust was a powerful thing, and now you truly understood.

“I am,” you said firmly, pushing him back with both hands and rising to your feet.

Jaebeom slumped back, disappointed and defeated, and shook his hair out of his eyes. Watching you walk away, he begged, “Please stop sleeping with Jackson.”

You turned to face him, lips parting incredulously.

Seeing your anger, he lowered his tone to something more pliant, but definitely snide. “Give me a chance to make things right before you let him get his claws in you.”

It only confirmed what Jackson had said. Jaebeom’s newfound pursuit of you was solely from a place of jealousy. Your best friend had been right and you were too blind to accept it.

“You really are the worst,” you snapped at him, heading back on your way.

Jaebeom shouted vengefully, “He doesn’t fucking deserve you!”

You kept walking and retorted with disdain, “Story of my life, it seems. I guess I only fuck guys that don’t deserve me.”

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{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[siimjaeyun]

Chapter 6: The Tale of Hong Chanmi 

Synopsis: A new girl arrives at Seoul High, and manages to crush your dreams of ever attending Prom with Heeseung. New emotions come afloat, ones that no one is ready to deal with, or well up to when you find yourself with new evidence on the disappearance of the kids from twenty five years ago. 

Series Masterlist 

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“Mom! Cut it out!” The teen boy in his baby blue suit attempted to shove off his mom who insisted on taking more pictures of him before Prom. 

She took one last snapshot before waving him off as he got into the slick black limousine; his date waiting patiently for him inside. 

“I’m so glad you accepted to be my date tonight Johnny.” She scooted closer to him, placing both her head and left hand on his upper chest. 

“Aha, yeah.” Being new to a source of affection threw him off, causing him to chuckle awkwardly. 

“You know this isn’t my first prom...but I think you might be the one Johnny…” A long pause followed afterwards before the guy saw himself swooning over the girl’s flirting attempts. 

She inched closer, pulling offer her rubber mask and demonstrating her green wrinkled skin and purple hair. 

He was gone. 

------ 

“Woah, check out the prom posters.” All of you had arrived safely in one piece to school; Sunoo pointed to the light pink posters on the tan walls. 

“Are you planning to go?” Heeseung turned to ask you, and maybe just maybe, he thought of asking you. 

“Yeah, but I was hoping someone would ask…” 

“Well, good luck with that.” Your chances had gone back to zero. 

Meantime, Jake stood quietly in the background; the last amount of courage leaving his body as he openly observed you attempting to get Heeseung to go with you. 

“Ah, man. Stupid locker.” A voice muttered in the distance, and it caught the attention of Heeseung as he saw a new student struggle with opening their locker. 

“Here, these things tend to get stuck easily.” In a quick manner, he managed to loosen the lock and it came open. 

“Thank you! I’m Chanmi by the way.” She extended her hand to the young boy, who gladly received it. 

“I’m Heeseung!” The rest of you stood waiting in the back, clearly witnessing how the girl was shameless making attempts with him. You clearly didn’t know how to react. Your crush was flirting with another girl, who if you were to be honest, was clearly attractive. 

“Maybe we should get you out of here before you do something stupid.” Crossing your arms, you let Sunghoon drag you away from the scene with Sunoo, Jungwon, and Jake following behind. In the meantime, Jay was in the principal’s office welcoming another new student. 

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“Hey guys.” Jay walked into the auditorium, taking a seat with a young boy in blonde hair trailing behind. 

“This is Niki, they asked me to take him under my wing while he gets used to it.” Sunoo and Jungwon enthusiastically welcomed him, and had practically called dibs on him the moment he took a seat next to him. 

“Where’s Heeseung? I don’t think the trip from English is this long.” You glanced around the room until you saw him coming into the room with new girl Chanmi next to him. An audible crack heard once you heard yourself enter a stage of a heart break. 

“Would now be a good time to get over him?” You asked Sunghoon who was seated next to you, seeing how tears began forming in your eyes. 

“Hey guys, this is Chanmi! I’ve been showing her around.” 

“He’s like my knight in shining armor.” Everyone slowly gagged, of course except Heeseung who was as dense as that one cake that Jungwon tried to bake last week. 

“Everyone, we have a special announcement, we ask people to not go to this week’s prom with ghost girls given the disappearance. That’s all.” Chief Kim left the stage leaving all you free to take off. 

“Need a ride Chanmi?” You didn’t stay back to hear the rest of the conversation; the least thing you wanted to see was your first love falling for someone else. 

“Hey, Jungwon and Sunoo have that cooking class afterschool. How about the rest of us go off to look for more information about those missing kids?” 

“What would I do without you Park Sunghoon?” The four of you took off from the auditorium, stopping for some coffee before returning back to the school later that night. 

------ 

“So let me get this straight, you guys solve mysteries?” Niki had chosen to tag along, curious at the troubles that your group seemed to get yourself into. 

“Pretty much. Trust me, I’m new to this too,” Jay stopped before realizing he wasn’t sure why they were there in the first place, “What is this story about the missing kids anyway?” 

“A couple weeks ago we started getting messages from a so-called JK. While we were researching for Que Horrifico, he sent over a newspaper article of some missing teens who disappeared twenty five years ago. They’re the same ones from y/n’s locket she found in a cave. He said it would lead us to a real mystery.” 

“Here. You and Jake go that way, we’ll head this way.” Sunghoon led the newcomers down to a collection of old books, while you and Jake handled the maps and articles. 

When your collection came to form, an odd thing occurred. All of the data relating to missing kids was gone. Circles and squares were cut out, meaning that someone had gone through it and erased all the data possible from the books and newspapers. 

“Who doesn’t want them found?” Your locket came open and shut when one of the large bookcases came down crashing on the floor. 

In the distance, a shadow quickly moved, and while Jay attempted to chase it down, more and more cases came falling down; whoever it was, they were trying to injure you. 

“Who’s there?” The shadow crept inside the girl’s locker room, leaving you the only one able to track it down. However, the room was empty.  You took a good look in the mirror before a frizzled beast startled you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Chanmi was positioned behind you, giving you a welcoming smile. 

“No, I thought I saw something, sorry. What are you doing here so late anyway?” 

“The plumbing isn’t at the house yet so I came to freshen up. Well, I’m going to go change. See you tomorrow.” she responded. Your eyes wandered as Chanmi left to the sink, and you turned backwards one more time before seeing the guys waiting outside. 

“Hide over here.” All four of you squatted on the floor, watching the girl’s locker room door. Moments later, Chanmi walked out, almost as if checking if the coast was clear. She opened her locker and in her grasp was a silver key, shining in all glory. 

Her steps carried her to the basement door; her body vanished moments later. 

“Come on, let’s go before someone else tries to kill us.” 

------ 

“I’m telling you, something is up with Chanmi.” 

“Come on, haven’t we all snuck in the basement late at night?” Heeseung tried his best to defend the poor girl who had just arrived, but clearly wasn’t very supported given the perplexed looks on everyone’s faces. 

“I mean we don’t know much about her, could be possible. Haha take that Sunoo!” Niki exclaimed once he saw the pinball enter the target. 

“But-she looks so nice. Her eyes twinkle and her hair smells like peaches.” 

“Heeseung, do you like her?” You asked, not even semi-prepared for the answer. 

“Well if you look at the time, I have to go!” Heeseung caught hold of the keys on the table and fled immediately. 

“Hey you know that chic stealing guys at proms, she’s been doing it for years.” RM caught hold of your attention and used his head to nod at the screen. Endless pictures of boys who have gone missing in the past years, 

“We can’t stand here and do nothing. Let’s go.” You dragged Jay by the arm outside and into his car who somehow managed to fit the other five people into the back seats. 

------- 

“How exactly did you get Chanmi’s address?” 

“I have my ways Yang Jungwon. I have my ways.” Jay, who was in charge of driving the bunch, came to a stop with the GPS claiming he had arrived; he did not however expect to stop at a cemetery. 

“Are you sure that this is the right place?” Niki cautiously, closed the door and found himself slightly terrified at the arrival of a real adventure. 

“I guess we have to split. Sunghoon can go with Jay and Niki, and Jake and I will go with Sunoo and Jungwon.” 

The two groups separated at the first path; moss covered tombstones plagued the hills of grass; it was a cemetery after all. 

Most of the journey was quiet for both groups, but the occasional conversation did surge. For example, both Sunghoon and Jay began to learn more about Niki’s interest in dance, and his past life in Japan. 

The stroll was peaceful-like and the moon in the sky glistened and illuminated them from above. Too entertained by the silly jokes made by their friends, they failed to recognize the shadow that had begun to follow them. Before they knew it, a wrinkled woman jumped from behind a tombstone scaring the trio of friends. 

“Run!” Out of realizing that the two people with him were newbies, he took over getting them to safety while the witch-like creature kept chasing them. 

You on the other hand were having fun; telling Jake all the stupid things you and your friends have done was a great way to keep you from the whole Heeseung situation. Suddenly, Niki by mistake tackled all of you to the floor. When your eyes met the gaze of the creature, you snapped out of it and began sprinting once more. 

A small building-like place awaited you at the top of the next whole; your tired legs barely managing to get you to safety. 

“Quick!” Once Jay accomplished getting into the building, Jake and Sunghoon were able to close the door and waited for the continuous pounding to stop. 

“T-that was close.” Everyone struggled to catch their breaths; given that you were being hunted for a couple miles on end. 

“Huh. Take a look at this. Carswell.” Puzzled, all of you managed to take the top off the bin. 

“Isn’t this Mr.Carswell, the creeper? I thought he was in prison.” Jungwon pulled out a creeper rubber mask, a transfer slip, and finally an old backpack. 

“This transfer slip is from Seoul High.” Sunghoon held it in his fingers, and dropped it when the pounding emerged again. The door opened, and Heeseung was waiting while waving his camera phone in his left hand. 

“Jungwon let me know you guys were here.” You ran to give him a hug, comforted by the idea that he had yet to be abducted. 

“W-we think Chanmi is the monster. She’s planning to steal you!” Heeseung simply grabbed you by the shoulders and looked straight into your eyes. 

“Look, I know this must be about Chanmi asking me to prom. I promise that this won’t change our friendship.” Bitter reality had arrived on a silver platter. Three of your friends looked at the floor; everyone knew you were head over heels for the boy in front of you since middle school. 

“Let’s go home, thanks Heeseung.” Jake bravely stood and wrapped his arm around to comfort you. 

------ 

It was prom night at last. The dream night that most young girls dreamed for had arrived at once; it was a true miracle. Well, it was a dream night for -most- girls. 

“Come on, everyone is waiting for you.” Jay waited by the door frame, noticing the portrait from middle school between your hands. It rang in his head. You liked Heeseung, and he was taking some other girl to your senior year prom. 

“Everyone is downstairs. Let’s go.” Well, mostly everyone anyway. 

Sunghoon was seated with Jake in their navy suits; Sunoo and Jungwon in a burgundy color, and finally Niki and Jay in tan like color. On the other hand, you decided a lilac color was the best way to get you out of the slump you had entered since last night. 

“Now I get why they say girls take so long.” You slapped Sunghoon in the back of the head and headed off to the dance. 

------ 

In the meantime, Heeseung was still trapped in his room upstairs.

Standing in front of the mirror, he debated with himself over the color of his tie; which one would match best with the lilac corsage? A cruel reality settled inside him; lilacs were your favorite flower and he didn’t know why his mind was no longer excited for night. I mean, he had a pretty date. 

The phone that buzzed in his hands snapped him out of his thoughts. He attended it, seeing your latest Instagram post of you at the dance. The lilac-colored dress catching his eyes; how ironic. He swiped through, the last one stopping him in his tracks. Jake close to you, staring into your eyes while your lips curved into a smile. Ironic indeed. 

He wasn’t used to complex emotions, much less the odd sensation that began to creep into his system. Was he really going to spend his senior prom without his friends?  Emphasis on the friends. 

In a haste, he made the decision to call it quits on the date; he canceled the date and went alone. 

------ 

“Yo, Heeseung!” Jay flapped his arms when the tall boy walked in through the doors, without a date surprisingly. 

“Where’s your date Hee?” You asked with a punch cup in your hand. 

“It felt weird to come without you guys.” Internally, Heeseung hoped you wouldn’t pester him with any more emotions; he was thrilled when all eight of you made your way to the dance floor. 

Niki and Jay burst out into a full dance battle and it left the party to cheer loudly through the pounding music that played for the dancers. The atmosphere was dazzling, and everybody was having fun. 

The chaotic environment began settling down and so the slow song appeared; every confused lover’s worst nightmare. 

The younger trio which included Niki, Jungwon, and Sunoo stood in a circle, swaying their hands left and right to the rhythm of the song. It left the rest of you to stand by and observe in the comfort of your own group. Was now a good opportunity for the two love confused boys to gain courage? 

Heeseung was still conflicted by these new emotions; in his mind you were his friend. So why did you not appear to be his just friend tonight? 

“Want to dance?” 

Jake took hold of your hands when you gave him the go; Heeseung retreated back the original two steps he mustered the confidence to take. 

A soft melody engulfed your ears as you stared into Jake’s eyes. Had he always been like this? Your bodies moved in synchronization with the beat; you found yourself getting lost into what seemed like a friendly intention. 

Sunghoon and Jay both were attentive to what was occurring; a mix-up of feelings had occurred before their very noses. Who liked who was unclear? 

“Rough times buddy.” Sunghoon patted his back and Jay, trying to alleviate some of the tension noticeable in Heeseung’s figure, mimicked the younger trio’s swaying dance. 

Everything was well, or well until a loud cackling was heard through the speaker system. 

“I hope you saved a dance for me, Heeseung!” All of the students fled from the gym; who would want to be part of a monster show down anyway. 

The eight of you that remained ran as well, trying to find a way to avoid the witch from the cemetery. 

“Isn’t that Chanmi’s locker?” You rapidly opened the locker, taking possession of the silver key you witnessed the other day. 

“Follow me.” Inserting the key into the hole, the doorknob twisted letting you hide inside the basement. 

The basement had a light fire in the background, but it managed to brighten up the room. 

“Uhh..” Niki gave out an awkward stutter before showing you an old creeper mask and Chanmi’s school clothes. 

“Niki found his first clue, I’m so proud.” Sunoo wiped a fake tear from his eyes, and in the meantime Heeseung ran out of the basement; he was going to build himself a trap. 

------- 

The crinkled witch re-appeared in the gym, pausing at seeing Heeseung stand in the center with arms extended forward. She leaped towards him, but when she did, the disco ball came down onto her, capturing her hands in a set of plastic zip ties. 

“Heeseung, didn’t you hear me? I told you to not to go with a ghost girl to prom!” Mayor Lee stepped into the room with Chief Kim, amused at the scene in front of them. 

“She’s no ghost girl dad, she’s Hong Chanmi.” 

“More like Chanmi Carlswell.” Jungwon responded. 

“As in Mr.Carswell, the creeper?” Chief Kim asked with a hand on his chin. 

“That’s right! When you guys imprisoned him the past summer, I vowed to take revenge. I used the old creeper costume to construct my own and mimic the story of the ghost girl. I kidnapped Johnny and kept him in the cemetery building to keep people off. My plan was to then take out your oldest member, Heeseung. And it would have worked, if it wasn’t for you meddling...school..mates of mine.” 

------ 

All of you stared as you saw the reflection of Chanmi through the police car window; it faded moments after when the car left. 

“Hey they forgot her backpack!” Jake picked up the bag and my mistake dropped the book inside onto the floor. 

“This is an old Seoul High yearbook.” Sunghoon dusted off the front cover, and turned to the book marked page. 

 “It’s them, the kids who disappeared.” Eight boxes on the top displayed with a group photograph on the bottom confirmed that it was the same story sent by JK. 

“Check out the caption...Kim Daniel, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Park Yena, and Jeon Jungkook...Seoul High’s mystery solvers club, Mystery Co.” 

“I like that name, mystery co.” Sunoo gazed at the page a little longer. 

“Those kids are just like us.” 

“The thing is, why did they disappear?” Had this been the mystery you were warned of before? 

------ 

Chanmi waited patiently on the mattress, swinging her legs back and forth until the gates of her cell opened. 

“Took you long enough.” 

“Is it taken care of?” A broad shouldered man now was in her sight, hands in his pockets.

“They bought the story. Will be a while before they realize Mr. Carswell never had a daughter.” 

“And the yearbook?” 

“In the backpack like you mentioned. I still don’t get why you didn’t just give it to them directly.” 

The man escorted her into the limo, and looked at her directly. 

“JK hired you to do this job, you don’t need to know everything. Let’s just say he needs them to start looking for the real mystery underneath Seoul City. One that drove away eight teens into their disappearance. It is time. ” 

------ 

Next- Chapter 7: Medieval times  

Taglist:

@softkons @nikisboxysmile

Side Note: Yay, Niki is finally introduced :) Send an ask to the added to the tag list! <3 

[sailtoafarawayland]

Oh, Captain!

Summary - Emma think’s she’s hurt Killian and deals with the consequences, saving him from himself just might be the one she didn’t see coming. 

Rated for all, no warnings. 

Tumblr Exclusive for now- will be posted over at AO3 and FF (Farawayland) when life allows. I just needed to write some happy what with all this not happy I’m watching on the news. Most likely a one-shot. 

Chapter 1

Emma’s heart was in her throat.

He knew.

He knew, and she hadn’t even been the one to tell him.

“Don’t!” she pleaded, catching up to him and snatching at his sleeve, her fingers seizing the thin, black fabric and wrapping around his forearm. “Killian, please…”

The warmth of her hand, the chill of her fingertips—they were always so cold, despite his many attempts to warm them—stopped him in his tracks, the tension between them slackening as he allowed himself to be swayed back toward her, but she held on tightly, too afraid to let him go.

Afraid of what he would do.

“Am I supposed to simply let it go, Emma?”

She could hear the outrage, low and dangerous, in his voice—and it hurt, because she knew it was her fault.

“Belle shouldn’t have said anything—I told her not to, that I would handle it. I just wanted to wait until after tonight. I was afraid if you knew he’d kissed—”

“He kissed you?” Killian growled, his features darkening as he yanked his arm from her grasp, the prop hook clattering to the floor between them as he stormed toward center stage where Neal was mid-scene with Tinkerbell.

“Shit,” Emma groaned.

Belle probably hadn’t mentioned that, had probably only implied she’d seen Neal hitting on her and refusing to take no for an answer, but had left out the part where he’d tried to steal a kiss.

Emma didn’t know why she had so much trouble with words—why the things in her head couldn’t just exit her mouth in the right way, or at least in a way that didn’t always make things worse. It should have been so easy to explain—that the minute Neal leaned in, she’d shoved him halfway across the library, and if that hadn’t left an impression, she had a right hook ready. That in that moment, she’d been so sorry that she’d insisted on keeping her relationship with Killian a secret. That she wanted nothing more than to have been sitting there with his hand wrapped in hers, for everyone to see—no one else trying to take what wasn’t theirs.

Emma wavered where she stood, not sure how to process the shit show everything had become in such a small space of time. Killian was seething, his black leather coat flaring behind him as he stalked across the stage—much to the surprise of the cast performing. Ashley stumbled over her line and twisted her hands in the lime green tutu she wore as Killian reached them, his long fingers wrapping around Neal’s shoulder and jerking him into an about-face.

The gasps of confusion from the opposite wing were audible as everyone tried to figure out why Killian was on stage when he shouldn’t be, and the murmurs from the audience were no better. She was sure they were all wondering why Captain Hook was confronting Peter Pan out of nowhere. Time slowed as she watched Neal’s features twist from surprised to nervous, her eyes snapping down to Killian’s hand as he clenched it into a tight fist. She couldn’t take her eyes off the chunky, heavy jewelry from the prop department adorning his knuckles.

Props that she knew he was about to drive into Neal Cassidy’s face.

Principal Gold’s son.

The man who always had it out for Killian.

“Shit.”

Her boyfriend was about to get expelled, and it was all her fault. She should have told him earlier, but she couldn’t fix that now. She had to do something—anything—now.

Trying not to think about how far from normal this opening night was turning out to be, or how Wendy had no place in this scene, she rushed after him, doing the only thing she could think of to keep him from getting thrown out of his senior year.

“Oh, Captain!” she cried, feigning exhaustion and leaning heavily against the backdrop of painted, wooden jungle. She paused for a moment, catching her breath and glancing warily behind her, as if she were afraid at any minute something dangerous was going to pounce from the bushes.

Three sets of eyes from center stage turned to her, along with every head in the packed auditorium.

She caught her breath and tidied the blue bow perched on top of her perfect curls. “You found me! I thought I would be trapped here forever—”

Killian’s grip was still white-knuckled on Neal, who was starting to squirm uncomfortably, and Ashley looked like she wished she could actually turn into a ball of light and fly away, but she could see the curious sparkle in Killian’s eye beneath a cheekily arched brow, and it gave her the bravado she needed to keep going. She had no idea where this scene was headed with her at the helm, but it didn’t really matter.

Saving the play wasn’t the point.

Saving Killian was—the rest would just be a bonus if she could pull it off, so she continued.

“—stuck caring for Pan’s lost boys, washing their socks, cooking their meals, and do I ever get a thank you, Wendy—what delicious coconut salad, Wendy? No, never!” Righteous indignation flooded her face and she straightened her dress brusquely, angling toward the audience as she arched an eyebrow and rested her hands on her hips. “And let me tell you, not a single washing machine or microwave on the whole island.”

Not waiting for the reaction, but smiling inwardly as the wave of laughter rippled through the crowd, she turned her attention back to the strange trio that was a squeamish looking Peter Pan, a very nervous fairy, and an inscrutable Captain Hook. Relief washed over her as she saw Killian’s face losing that dark edge as she approached, her breath catching in her throat as they locked eyes. It may have been a cliché, but he’d always been able to do that to her, to just steal her breath away. It didn’t help that he looked sinful as anything in that pirate get-up. She thanked her lucky stars that he’d tossed that ridiculous wig and hat in the trash and decided to give Captain Hook his own spin.

He met her halfway between the wing and centerstage, letting go of Neal’s arm without a backward glance. To her surprise, the spotlight followed him, bathing them both in its glare as they came together. Her hand brushed along the rough stubble of his jaw before settling on the back of his neck, his arms circling her, and though he was dressed as a pirate, the possessive squeeze of his hand at her waist was all him.

There was anger and regret simmering, she could see it in the way he held his jaw, but there was also happiness, and laughter, and something more in the warmth of his eyes—something she would catch glimpses of sometimes when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, but she knew what it was, and that he held back for her—because she’d been so insistent about keeping everything between them a secret, because for some reason she was terrified if she admitted what she felt, and what she wanted, that she would lose it. It was a silly thing, and now it had hurt them.

“I never thought I’d fall in love with a pirate—” and it was not how she thought she’d tell him she loved him, so it was probably good that technically it was Wendy telling Captain Hook—“but you see me when no one else really does—made me realize that I have dreams, Captain. I can do anything I set my mind to. I can be anything—a lawyer, a sheriff, a high-end fashion designer specializing in faux-crocodile-vegan-leather accessories…”

She had no idea where that came from, but the raucous laughter from the audience made her feel a little better—at least they were having a good night. Then her gaze slipped to the side and she finally saw all of the horrified faces of the cast and crew watching the debacle from backstage. Well, maybe there was no way she was going to save the show, but even if Gold let loose, he couldn’t put the blame solely on Killian now. She was in the thick of it too, and she doubted he’d go so far as to expel Sheriff Nolan’s daughter.

“I’ve yet to see you fail, Wendy,” Killian asserted, and though the name was wrong and he was projecting enough to reach the back of the auditorium, she knew the words were meant for her, because he’d always believed in her, always believed in them.

She hated that she had been so afraid of what this could be, that she hid it away, worried if she put her heart out there, it would all fall apart.

“While I used to think that catching that crocodile was my happy ending,” Killian continued, grinding his jaw at the thought of the sneaky reptile, “I know now that it’s you, it’s always been you, so tell me, love,” and he dipped his lips closer to hers, teasing a kiss before turning his gaze on the audience, a rakish grin spreading across his face as he gestured broadly over the crowd, “will you sail away with me?”

“Always,” she breathed, “to the end of the world, and time!”

There was a roar of noise from the audience—laughter, clapping, whooping, whistling—and while she had no idea where the words had come from, what came next, well, that was no mystery. She grabbed her pirate, hands fisted in his jacket as she rocked into him, bodies swaying as their lips clashed. It didn’t matter that they were standing in front of the entire school, every detail illuminated by the hot spotlight—in that moment, there was nothing but the two of them.

It wasn’t until they broke apart—and if people hadn’t known about them before, they sure did now—that Emma heard anything outside their bubble, but then it hit—the crowd was clapping and laughing, perhaps at the insanity of it all, but who cared. Gold’s voice was cutting through the chaos backstage, reaching that thin, forced pitch that meant he was furious, and Belle was already picking up the pieces. Neal was grumbling and nursing his arm—maybe the best acting he’d ever done—beating a retreat from the stage, and the rest of the cast and crew couldn’t take their eyes off of her and Killian as they scrambled to close the curtains and help Belle figure out what came next.

Emma tugged Killian into the wing and back through the stacks of equipment and props to a quiet corner, wanting to find a place they could speak, but also to remove him from Gold’s eyesight as quickly as possible.

“I’m so sorry. I should have—”

“Emma,” he murmured, tilting her chin up so she could see the truth in his words. “I’m not upset with you. How could I be?”

“It was my fault. If I hadn’t insisted that we keep our relationship a secret, then he…”

“Oh, Swan. It is not your fault that Neal assaulted you.”

“Assault is a little…look, if he had known we were together, he wouldn’t have tried to kiss me.”

“He shouldn’t have tried to force a kiss on you, regardless. You’ve been more than clear, for years, that you have no interest in him. Though, maybe I shouldn’t have lost my temper and stormed the stage,” Killian admitted, ducking his head and scratching his ear in that way that always made her heart flutter. “Thanks for saving me from myself, lass.”

“I meant what I said, Killian,” she whispered, her voice dropping as she pushed the words out before they could crawl back in. “I think…I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

“Are you sure it’s not just the hook, Swan?” he teased, giving her the out, because he just understood her that well, but she could see the hope in his eyes, and suddenly all of that old trepidation was gone.    

“You’re not even wearing the hook,” she pointed out. “I’m sure, Killian Jones. I love you, whether you’re a smoldering-eyed pirate, or not.”

“You think my eyes smolder?”

“Stop it!” she laughed, shaking his shoulders gently as he waggled his brows at her, the both of them enjoying the smile of the other before he grew serious once more.

“And I love you, Emma—so much.”

“Yeah, I know.”

 *     *     *

Gold’s fury had tapered down to mild annoyance by the next morning, no small thanks to Sydney Glass and his cover story on their humble production. He’d praised the comical genius of their work, calling it far from ‘just another retelling of the same old story’. He highlighted the unexpected romance and praised the heartfelt acting of the two leads, whose whirlwind chemistry swept the audience away. He even went so far as to paint the play as a tongue-in-cheek examination of eternal youth versus personal growth, and while Emma thought that the whole piece was a little lofty, she was more than happy that there hadn’t been any blowback on Killian for his stage-crashing.

Overall, opening night hadn’t been a total failure, and Belle had been more than capable of a hasty rewrite for their follow-up performances. While Neal wasn’t thrilled with his sudden decrease in lines, Emma was hardly going to complain that she got to kiss her smoldering-eyed Killian Jones on stage each night—and if the hook and pirate costume went missing from the prop department for some reason, she doubted anyone would notice.

 END

[sophiamcdougall]

EXPLAINING SANREMO

(PART TWO) I am back. I have barely eaten or slept and Tumblr has tried to murder me and this post multiple times, but I have survived. Thank you for your patience.

Part One of my attempt to explain the seismic experience that is 2020 Sanremo Festival of Italian Song is here. 

Ready? I assure you, you are not, but let’s proceed. So Sanremo rages pitilessly on.  Now everyone knows what’s at stake, and everyone, including your humble recapper, is exhausted, but doing the gay/chaotic best they can.

As the final battle to save Amadeus, Rancore, Italy and THE WORLD approaches, Achille Lauro has a last message for the troops. And I’m not deducing this, he literally said it on Twitter. 

...Hold me I’m scared.

Meanwhile (sort of) (go with it) (time isn’t real at Sanremo)  a minor drama  has occurred offstage. Singer Tiziano Ferro made an ill-advised joke about Fiorello’s interminable comedy bits, some idiots on Twitter ran away with it, and poor Fiorello was upset! This is minuscule in Sanremo terms. But consider the flapping of a butterfly’s wings. Consider hurricanes. But who is Tiziano Ferro?

Hold on. We’ll get to it. For now ...

Fiorello is dancing seductively for an absolutely delighted Amadeus while dressed as a rabbit. And wearing a blonde wig. Is there a rational explanation for this? I mean, sort of. But also no.

And then he worries Amadeus might give him herpes, which causes Amadeus to freaking snap.

“No, no!” yells the mercurial Fiorello. Amadeus isn’t worthy of his kisses yet. He ricochets out of Amadeus’s arms and into the audience and “passes on” the kiss to a guy in the front row. 

“Incredible things are going to happen tonight!” yells Amadeus, who has no fucking idea. ”Beautiful things,” corrects Fiorello. 

But just because Fiorello is a mayhem elemental on a mission of love doesn’t mean he hasn’t got feelings. 

Enter Italy’s sweetheart, Tiziano Ferro.

Actually, Tiziano’s been there all along. He’s the specialest of special guests, singing through basically his entire back catalogue every night. Which why it really was unfair of him to pick on Fiorello --   it’s not his fault he’s literally got to stand there and babble nonsense for aeons on end, Tiziano! He’s just serving the hungry chthonic entity that is Sanremo, same as you.  

While the gay mayhem (the gayhem, if you will) surges around him, Tiziano  has been fighting the good gay fight in his own steadfast way, so far untouched. His mere presence is a message of hope in itself, he knows this, and is determined to make it count. Ten years ago he was closeted, convinced coming out would end his career, and suicidal. Now happily married and gloriously successful, he is here to demonstrate that “it gets better”. He radiates such wholesome joy and resilience that everyone loves him.

So anyway, Tiziano didn’t mean to hurt anybody because he would never, and now he wants to make things right. So will Fiorello forgive him?

Ah, what better gesture of reconciliation than to goofily sing a  love song written by Fiorello himself. Of course Fiorello forgives Tiziano, because Fiorello loves everyone, good and bad, (after all he loves Amadeus the most). But he is also a chaos being, and he is working harder than anyone else to channel the divine madness of this deranged Sanremo Festival into anyone who gets close. Tiziano, watch out!

Seems TIziano naively thought he could lean in for a staged, nearly kiss, but  Fiorello’s very soul is antithetical to “nearly” anything.

“My husband’s going to divorce me!”  wails poor Tiziano, but Fiorello has never felt so alive. This is Sanremo, bitches. Rules like “sixty-year-old men can’t be danger twinks, Fiorello,” have ceased to apply. He is an apostle of Achille Lauro, he has accepted the sermon of Benigni into his heart: it is time for PHYSICAL LOVE. While not quite ready (yet) to fuck everyone in the orchestra pit, he is throbbing with readiness, to frolic all over the theatre giving all the guys he can get his hands on THE KISSES OF HIS MOUTH.

Naturally this sparks further firestorms of chaos. “Do it again!” begs grizzled rocker and high-ranking competitor Piero Pelù. Electrified by the touch of Fiorello’s lips, he is later to be found running shirtless through the auditorium where he steals a handbag.

Everyone is kissing everyone, age and orientation be damned. Summoned by the gay sorcery unfolding, 65-year-old queer rock goddess Gianna Nanini manifests and is kissed worshipfully on the lips by 36-year-old duet partner Coez.

There’s also some kind of song competition going on I guess. 

This happens:

That’s Ghali, GUYS, IT’S NOT WORKING, rappers ARE DROPPING LIKE FLIES ALL OVER THIS STAGE, WE’VE GOT TO DO SOMETHING.

(...  it isn’t really Ghali and don’t worry. This is a gag? Which I still don’t really get? And nor does sweet anarchist cherub Fiorello whom we will later discover is currently being physically restrained from rushing onstage to tend to the fallen rapper’s wounds.)

The real Ghali raps in Arabic which among other things is a big old “me ne frego” of his own to Italian Trump-tribute act and failed wannabe prime minister Matteo Salvini. Then he gets close to Fiorello, which can only end one way.

All the boys are crazy for Fiorello’s kisses but Amadeus still can’t have any

It’s already a difficult night for Amadeus.  TV presenter Antonella Clerici enters and far from standing a step beside him, righteously rips the piss out of him, which to be fair he accepts with grace.

And as for Achille Lauro ... ...No.  Patience. The time to bear witness to the last stand of Achille Lauro is not yet come. There are other forces stirring at Sanremo.

Chaos has its dark side.

The gun on stage is cocked and loaded. This is it. ENTER MORGAN.

... and enter Bugo,  who trails in behind Morgan, looking dazed and haunted. But whatever, it’s a million o’clock in the morning, aren’t we all. 

They start to play.  Italian Tumblr dozes fitfully on its sofa, idly crackshipping Amadeus and Fiorello. Utterly unprepared.

So most of us don’t notice what’s happening ...

... until the music just stops.

No one’s paid attention to the Morgan and Bugo in days. As far as I’m concerned Fabrizio Moro has already been avenged and my bloodlust is slaked.  The song - apparently written wholly by Bugo - honestly, isn’t bad, but Morgan’s been tuneless throughout and their duet/cover last night was cringeable. There have been some major reversals in the rankings but at this point there’s almost no way they’re going to be one of them.  And Morgan is not happy.

So Morgan changed the lyrics (and this isn’t even last-minute improv, he fucking printed it) to attack the one person who still had faith in him, blaming Bugo and Bugo alone for their poor performance so far. On live TV. In front of millions. After screaming at Bugo backstage just minutes ago. And he expects Bugo to just stand there and take it.

"Me ne frego to that shit,” thinks Bugo, and becomes the unexpected self-care hero of Sanremo as he vanishes into the night.

And that’s how I learned the Italian word for pandemonium. 

Morgan has the absolute nerve to ask what’s going on. Amadeus breaks out in visible cold sweat. Fiorello is thrown bodily onstage to DO SOMETHING, ANYTHING, OH MY GOD.

It’s long past midnight and a bunch of worried middle-aged men in sparkly jackets are scampering around yelping “Bugo? Bugo! BUGO? BUGO!!!” and that, I am here to tell you, when you are already delirious from exhaustion and shitposting-induced hysteria, is more than enough to tip you right over the edge.

Italian Tumblr resigns itself to never sleeping again.The memes aren’t going to make themselves. 

Translation: ”Is Bugo there?” “What’s happening?” “Where’s Bugo gone?” “I have to go and see where Bugo is.” “Bugo left.” “BUGO!”

Morgan wants vengeance. Fiorello, adorably indifferent to the fact that he was shoved on stage to, you know, entertain the audience, wants to find the missing waif, wrap him in a blanket and feed him soup. So they both rush offstage and Amadeus is left alone in a living anxiety dream.

The audience are booing.  The 70th fucking Sanremo Festival of Italian Song is falling to pieces on his watch. For all he knows murder is going on backstage and he picked known powder-keg and scoundrel Morgan for the Festival. The buck stops with him. And he has no lines, no back-up, no idea what to do about it.

And then Fiorello, angel of misrule, avatar of lawlessness and love, strolls back onstage. He looks confident and relaxed, like a man with all the answers.  Which he is.

“Have you got Bugo?” Amadeus inquires desperately.

NO RULES, NO MASTERS, NO SPONSORSHIP MONEY. ME NE FREGO.

Everything is broken. And somehow everything is OK.

Everyone, Amadeus included, bursts into hysterical, cathartic laughter.

“Is this my fault?” Amadeus asks. “YES!” crows Fiorello, lovingly forcing Amadeus to face his sins and his nightmares in a healing atmosphere of radical acceptance and mass psychosis.

And that’s how Amadeus learned that the real Sanremo was inside us all along.  And what he needs in this glorious maelstrom was never a beautiful woman standing a step behind him. It’s a chaos pixie dream boy at his side.

It’s time to cast out toxic masculinity and become a better man.

So Amadeus wraps up the show as best he can and then out of pure human compassion, he and Fiorello personally wander the streets of Sanremo looking for Bugo until four in the morning.

Bugo and Morgan are automatically disqualified

And now let us witness the final passion of Achille Lauro. Who is this Achlle Lauro kid anyway? How intentional is all this? Is he the Messiah, or a very naughty boy?

SO YEAH. Anyway, everyone’s wondering what the fuck Achille and his producer/guitarist Boss Doms (yes, really) are going to do, and BE, next. Achille’s first three looks were inspired by St Francis of Assisi, David Bowie, and Marchesa Luisa Casati. 

So ... Freddie Mercury, maybe? Elizabeth I? Jesus Christ?  And after the flurry of kissing Fiorello whipped up .. 

Will they ... can they ... dare they...

Do you even need to ask?

I have no idea how the crazy bastards who guessed “Elizabeth I” did it. 

Achille thrusts his hips against Boss’s backside. Drops to his knees before him and lets the shape of the microphone speak for itself. Briefly chokes him. And throughout they are tender, elegant, and utterly, regally dignified.

And then, at last.

A  joyous chorus of maenad-like shrieks rings out across Europe. If you’re in the Greater London area and your ears are still sore, I’m sorry. That was me. 

That’s it. Achille Lauro and Boss Doms ascend into heaven and pass into history. 

Not even they can give more to Sanremo.

The dust settles. 

The dawn breaks.

WE FUCKING DID IT! RANCORE LIVES! WOUNDED (as are we all) BUT SMILING AT A WORLD TRANSFORMED! (Not only that but, after starting at the bottom of the leaderboard he’s been catapulted up into the top ten and wins the special prize for Best Lyrics!)

And Amadeus?

Well, let’s hear from him in his own words.

Because Fiorello asked him to, Amadeus is wearing a blonde wig to look like legendary TV host Maria de Filippi. Amadeus doesn’t normally sing, but because Fiorello asks him to, he joins him in song.“A WORLD OF LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!” they chorus. It’s the hymn of the new day. 

“He can make me do anything!” Amadeus sighs to the audience. So Fiorello asks him to slow-dance.  And they do.

The prophecy has been fulfilled. Amadeus has let love into his heart. He has surrendered to the holy power of gay chaos. He is a man reborn. 

He didn’t find Bugo on that long, gruelling dark night of the soul, because incredibly,  poor Bugo never left the theatre and spent the night literally hiding in a cupboard.

But he found something else. 

As Sanremo finally, mercifully approaches its end, Fiorello grapples him close and, all teasing cast aside, whispers fiercely in his ear:

And somehow it was.

And toxic masculinity?

To find out why don’t we - and I am sorry about this - check in on Matteo Salvini who would normally be rage-tweeting up a Trump-style storm by now. He loves bitching about Sanremo for being “rigged by the left”  or occasionally letting a non-lily-white performer win, and this year he even tried to organise a boycott. Let’s see how that’s going.

This, the gayest-ever Sanremo in history, is the most-watched Sanremo in 18 years, with an incredible 60% audience share.

“Me Ne Frego” flies to the top of the Spotify charts.  (And though the judges are still cowards and traitors who left Achille in 8th place, there is no doubt across the media who the real star of the festival was. ) And Salvini’s “boycott” just meant he effectively banned himself from making a peep about it.

So who won the festival?

ALL OF US.

Oh, you meant literally.

This guy. His name is Diodato and his song is called “Fai Rumore” (Make a Sound.) It’s fine.

And that was Sanremo. It wasn’t a dream, it was a place. And you, and you, and you were there.