#I’m gonna colour this for sure! I say like a lying liar

[pluto-attacks]

A sketch of Akk to match a sketch of Aye I did earlier. He’s watching Aye have his little mermaid moment at the front of the boat.

Thank you @tiistirtipii for suggesting him, you are unbelievably sweet and this was so much fun. ☺️

​This one was basically a screenshot redraw but I added hands and knees because I like to ruin a perfectly good composition 🤷‍♀️

[wisheduponastar]

Dine with me (658 words, M/M)

For Day 15 of @danganronpashipmonths Saioma month. Inspired by the prompt : Broken Promises

Kokichi's class is boring, but hopefully his lunch won't be. In fact - he's sure it won't be. Provided he can convince a certain someone to sit with him...

Or~ Kokichi tries to convince Shuichi to join him for lunch

Read on Ao3 or below

It was hard for Kokichi to believe this class had been going on for two hours. In one way, it seemed like they had already been stuck here for a century (trust them to pick the most boring senior to give a lecture to them). Kokichi was surprised everyone in the room hadn’t already died of old age. If it was any consolation, the lecturer would die of old age a bit before them - although Togami might kill them all with boredom first.

The second way, was time did fly for Kokichi occasionally. Mainly when he was staring at Shuichi, who was diagonally in front of him. Kokichi had a slight crush on the boy in front of him, and it was nice during these lectures to have something pretty to look at. Even if it was as simple as a gorgeous boy with dark blue hair and eyes that could never seem to decide their colour, but would still sparkle when a friend was around - or when he was excited. Or how they’d dip down if he was pleased and embarrassed, a smile spreading as well.

Briefly taking his eyes off Shuichi, Kokichi looked up to the clock. He blinked quickly, making sure what he was seeing was right and not some hallucination. But it was. It was actually twelve o’clock. Which meant, legally (maybe), Kokichi was allowed to finally escape this lesson. Glancing down to make sure he’d taken enough notes, Kokichi quickly swept all of his desk’s contents into his bag. Then, shuffling slightly, he slung it over one shoulder and got up.

Almost immediately he could feel everyone’s eyes on him, from the amused smile of Kaede to the icy glare of Byakuya. Smiling innocently, he turned to Byakuya, “It iiis twelve o’clock, y’know. We’re legally allowed to leave.”

“You assume you are legally allowed to leave.”

“Are you really gonna pull some sort of ‘the clock doesn’t dismiss you, I do’?” Kokichi laughed slightly, before batting his eyelashes slightly. “C’mon everyone! I’m leaving at least.”

With his last declaration, Kokichi quickly left, waving slightly as he exited the room. But like always, he waited, and only a few seconds after people began to leave the classroom. Smiling brightly at the glare he got from Togami and then Maki, he continued to wait until Shuichi came out.

“Shumai!!”

“Kokichi,” there was some surprise, but Shuichi still stopped for him, “You waited for me?”

“Obviously,” Kokichi grinned, “Who else is gonna sit with me at lunch?”

“You- what about,” Shuichi seemed to look around for a second, his eyes resting on Rantaro for a second before shaking his head, “I’ll eat lunch with you Kokichi.”

“Well, I don’t actually need lunch, y’know.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I just photosynthesise,” as he spoke, Kokichi briefly looked up to Shuichi, trying to see if he was smiling, “Or maybe that was just a lie!”

“Mmm,” Shuichi looked almost directly at Kokichi for a second, and he could feel himself begin to blush, “I don’t think you’re green enough yet.” “Green enough?” Kokichi blinked his eyes in an effort to summon crocodile tears, “Is my beloved Shuichi saying I’m slightly green already?”

“D-Don’t,” for a second, Shuichi was too flustered to do anything but stutter and look to the ground slightly, “I’m… not even your beloved. Anyway, aren’t we supposed to be going to lunch?”

“Aww, you wanna have lunch with me?”

“What?”

“Kay, I’ll do it this one time. But you owe me a favour now Shuichi!”

“You asked me.”

“Nishishishi, diiid I?” Kokichi skipped around slightly, almost circling Shuichi. “I think you’re lying. You know I hate liars!”

“I know you do,” said Shuichi, almost tiredly, “Where do you want to sit?”

“Anywhere that isn’t…” Kokichi looked around, waiting until he could spot Miu, “Next to her.”

“Sure,” Shuichi smiled slightly, “What about over there?” “The empty bench?”

“Yes.”

“Awww, does Shuichi want to be alone with me?”

[twink-between-worlds]

honey whiskey chapter 7

hey yall, reminder that blue is bold strikethrough, vi is bold italic, red is italic, green is bold :]

relationships; leg & four, leg & fable

ao3 link; x

Four let out a breath, walking with the chain towards their destination. Faer not entirely sure where the chain is going—probably to a nearby village or town though—but fae doesn't care. Four is high on life right now. Fae got some really good news today, so of course faer happier than ever. “You look awful happy, Smith.”Warriors noted, nudging the small hero. “Someone on your mind?” Yes, but nobody you need to know about. Not yet, anyways! “Nah, ”Four started with a loose shrug. “Just…one of those days.” “One of those days? One of what days?”Sky blinked, utterly lost as Four laughed. “One of those days where you're high on life. Happy just to be happy.” “Oh. I have those days a lot.”Sky smiled gently. “Do you not?” “Not usually,”Four admitted, rubbing the back of faer neck. “Sometimes I'm sad—well, scratch that, I'm sad most of the time, and other times—rarer times—I'm happy. But I'm never usually happy just for the sake of it.” “You're sad a lot? Why?”Legend spoke up, causing Four to jump. “Sweet fucking Hylia, Legend, I did not know you were there.” “Sorry.” “Warn me next time. But uh. I'm just…sad, I guess. Dunno why.” Liar. Shut up.  “Oh. You’re just,,,sad for no reason?” “I guess so.” “Huh.”Legend paused, nodding. “Fair.” The conversation fell quiet as they made it to the town, and Legend’s eyes seemed to light up. “This is my era.”He stated bluntly. “Really?”Wind gasped, grinning. “We never got to stay in your era for that long last time!!” Four cracked a smile watching Wind’s excitement. “Yeah…not much to see ‘round here. I like Hytopia better.” “Hytopia?”Wild tilted his head. “Yeah it’s a different kingdom I’ve been to. It’s…actually where I had my sixth adventure.” “I keep forgetting how many adventures you’ve had. How old are you again?”Hyrule blinked, looking around curiously. “Uh, 19 I think.” “You think?”Warriors frowned, visibly concerned. “I haven’t celebrated my birthday since my—”Legend choked, and Four squinted faer eyes at him as he continued. “Haven’t celebrated it since my first adventure.” “And when was that?” “Uh. I think I was 9? Yeah I was 9.” “Oh, that’s...young.” “Yeah.” “You weren’t even 10 yet.” “I mean, technically, I turned 10 during it.” “That doesn’t make a difference.” “Eh.”Legend shrugged loosely. “C’mon I gotta go see Fable real quick. You guys can just walk about, get to know the locals or whatever. Four, come with me?” Oh, right, their telepathy situation.. I forgot about it… You have more important things to worry about now, Vivi, it’s okay to forget Four nodded swiftly, following Legend closely. Legend doesn’t talk a lot, so Four let the colours speak again. Hey, so, do we even know how this would work? Y’know, the telepathy thing? None of us have dealt with telepathy before,,,I don’t think? Unless Red has a secret telepathic bond with someone, I don’t think any of us have ever messed with that. It’ll be interesting to figure out “—our?”Legend snapped his fingers in front of the smith’s face, causing him to jump. “Ah—sorry, the council was talking.” “It’s fine just…we’re here.”He snorted, heading inside with Four. “They don’t seem to like you.”Four noted as they passed the guards. “Good. Feeling’s mutual.” “You don’t like them?” “Guards and knights…we don’t get along. My uncle was a knight, he’s the only knight I’ve ever trusted.” “Oh, really?”Four hummed. “And if I told you I was a knight in training, what would you say?” “...that you’re lying. Why would you sacrifice a good job to be a knight?” “Well…Green and Blue wanna be like dad—our dad is a knight—but Vio and Red are gonna continue the blacksmithing thing.” “Hm. Fair, I guess…I still think it’s kinda stupid. So are you, like, split a lot in your era?” “Oh, yeah. The colours all lead different lives. Not split all the time, of course. I do still exist. But, mostly, we like being apart. It feels…right.” “Hm.” “Is it not like that for them?”Four questioned lightly, carefully trying not to overstep. “Nah, I avoid being split. Lore—the green one—is wheelchair bound when I’m split, and it’s not fair to subject Lore to pain just cause I wanted to split, yanno?” “Oh, guess that makes sense.”Four nodded gently, smiling. “Your colours…they’re just you, aren’t they?” “Yeah, essentially. I think that those three are just different parts of me, nothing else.” “You still have ‘em, right? Up there?” “Yeah. It’s why I zone out so damn much.” Four let out a laugh, causing Legend to grin slightly. “Zoning out cause our colours won’t shut up is a shared trait between us, ain’t it?” “Seems like it, lil guy.” “Lil guy?”Four shot him a look, and Legend laughed again. “Little guy. Small boy.” “Fuck you.”Four pouted, shoving him gently. Legend hummed, grinning as he and Four finally walked into the throne room. “You’re back!”Fable exclaimed, rushing over and hugging Legend. “Ah—hey, Fabe. Listen, I heard about the fact our telepathy’s messing up, so…Four said fae would try and help us fix it.” Four nodded, putting on a confident front. It’s easier to help people when faer faking confidence. “Are…you sure you can help?” “Well, never dealt with telepathy before, but I’ve worked with other magic. I can check whatever magic you have in your bodies, and that’ll help me find out what’s blocked your ability.” “You thought about this more than I thought you would’ve.”Legend admitted, blinking when Four shot him a gentle smile, grabbing Fable’s wrist with one hand and Legend’s wrist with the other. “I’m an overthinker.” A silence followed, and Four’s focused but confident smile faded into a confused frown. “Oh, that’s…” “Four? What’s up?” The smith looked up, purple eyes practically burning into Legend as fae considered, before sighing. “Are you two aware you have shadow magic in your veins?”

[sunjaesol]

my sweet romantic teenage nights

juke | high school + diner au | title: scenes from an italian restaurant // billy joel

Magenta’s Palace was an artefact from the glorious American Dream; a fluorescent gem wrapped in that 60s architecture and old-fashioned uniforms. It was also the hang-out spot of most LF Arts students, right in the heart of Los Feliz and on most kids’ path.  

Luke used to roll his eyes at the place, thinking it was corny and certainly not the place a punk-rocker like him would go… until he tasted their gnarly waffles. And burgers. And milkshakes. His love for good food trumped his desire for street cred and ended up like the rest of his peers: a regular at MP.

Alex and Reggie never had qualms with it. The former was rather happy Luke got over himself and Reggie was simply pleased to spend more time with his friends. It became tradition to eat there every Friday after school. Sometimes they stayed until the early hours of the night talking, sometimes it was to fuel up before a gig.

Settling in their booth (theirs - Luke has made sure to carve the underside of the table with their names), Luke sighed contently. “Boys, this gig is gonna be fire.”

“I still don’t know how you convinced the guys at Raven’s Nest,” Alex mused, glancing around for a waitress in a candycane-coloured uniform.

Reggie nodded gravely. “Yeah, they’re scary.”

“Used my charm,” he smirked. “Dialled it up like I always do.”

The blonde snorted. “Sure.”

Luke’s face crashed. “Fine. I used our fake’s when he didn’t believe we were eighteen.”

His friends grinned, Alex snapping his fingers. “There it is.”

The chipper Nora glided towards them, slaloming between tables with her notebook. Alex’ remark didn’t bother him, crossing his arms with a shrug. “Does it matter? I got us in. They’re gonna love us. Nay! They’re gonna eat this set up!”

“You better be right - hi, Nora - cause it’s a bar for bikers. Real ass bikers,” Alex replied, shooting Nora a smile.

“Hello, boys,” she greeted, her signature red hair tied in a messy bun. Reg used to have a crush on her when they first visited, until they realised she was twenty-three and in a committed relationship with a guy from USC studying medicine. Yeah, he had no shot. Luke had to console him by buying five chocolate shakes and blasting Elvis Presley in the car.

Despite this, Reggie still had a soft spot for her, smiling kindly at the waitress. “Our usual, please.”

The notebook got tucked in her apron with a bright nod. “Coming right up!”

As Nora swiftly returned behind the glossy bartop, parlaying the order to the kitchen, the entrance opened. The bell above chimed, three girls appearing beneath it.

Oh, shit.

When Luke enrolled into LF Arts as a green fourteen year old, he had planned to only focus on music and nothing else. He’d blaze through his classes and become the best in music and then, with his obsessive nature at a peak, would launch the band into the next stratosphere. That was the plan. Music, music, music. (And food from Magenta’s.)

Fourteen year old Luke wasn’t aware girls like Julie Molina existed though. That changed on the first day. She came to the front of the class, blew everyone away with a Taylor Swift cover and shot a toothy smile when she finished - like it was nothing. Like she didn’t have the voice of the century. (Like she wouldn’t mess with Luke’s plans of becoming the best, damn it!) Though his initial reaction was envy, he quickly realised it was rather a disgruntled crush than actual dismay.

She was cute. Still cute. After every summer break, he expected her to be less pretty so that his nerves could calm down for once. Nope. Julie Molina was pretty as hell.

He has never seen her here on Friday’s. Why now? Why now when they were mentally preparing themselves for a gig that could get them their asses kicked if they didn’t perform well? Luke needed to focus! Not think about where she’d sit and what she’d talk about and what she was going to eat.

His eyes tracked as Julie, Flynn and Kayla were in busy conversation, barely aware of their surroundings. Her head rolled back in a laugh at something Flynn said, eyes shut in glee. Luke flushed red, averting his gaze to the scratched up table. His friends were snickering, Alex muttering a ‘Jesus…’ under his breath.

Luke snapped his arm. “Stop being a dick.”

“Why don’t you just ask her out?”, Reggie pondered, absentmindedly making origami with the thin napkins.

“I think he needs to talk to her first to do that,” Alex teased before Luke could respond, earning another glare.

It wasn’t like he and Julie never spoke. They were seniors, they had multiple classes together and spent many hours cooped in the same music classroom. He was even part of her group project in junior year! They’ve talked! But it never lead to anything, his lingering stares falling for her oblivious profile, her never once looking back at him.

The connection Luke always craved hasn’t been there, though he always felt like they could have that. Musical spirits were alike, right? At least his crush wasn’t as hopeless as Reggie’s on Nora.

The girls chose a booth right next to theirs, Julie in his direct line of sight. Alex was buzzing in his seat from stifled laughter, visibly trying to not turn his head and address them. The guitarist felt like dying, not even the steaming plates of burgers set in front of them enough to lift his mood.

Luke leaned forward, voice a hiss. “I can talk to her. I just… haven’t felt the need to.”

Reggie patted his shoulder sympathetically. “It’s okay, buddy. You don’t have to lie to us.”

Frustration began simmering his skin, the scowl deepening. He wasn’t lying! Maybe a little! He’s been waiting for the right time to approach her, say and do the right thing to sweep her off her feet like the fucking rockstar he was. Had he been preparing his lines since he was fourteen? Also maybe. They were being revised.

Alex often told him he shouldn’t put Julie on a pedestal. That she was just a girl. It made him wonder if he was the only one that first day of high school that felt it. That awestruck whooping in his chest from seeing her curls dance around her almond eyes and hear how each lyric was laced with a passionate smile. Even at fourteen was he aware of how special that was. Julie wasn’t just a girl. She was the coolest girl he’s ever met and he didn’t even know her that well. He couldn’t imagine actually becoming friends with her, uncovering all facets of her personality and not get overwhelmed by her Julie-ness.

Huh. His crush went deeper than he thought. Yikes.

At the end of the day, Luke could admit that he was simply a teenage boy nervous to talk to a girl. ‘Nervous’ was like a curse word to him though, that admission a secret he’d take with him to the grave.

“Eh,” Alex quipped, egging him on. “Luke’s a terrible liar. He doesn’t have to tell us for us to know it’s true.”    

His hands slammed down on the table, words spouting from his lips. “Girls! Can we get your napkin dispenser?!”

Fucking fantastic, Luke.

All three perked up in surprise, Flynn twisting in her booth to curl her nose and tilt her head. “Why?”

“It’s empty,” he bluffed.

Kayla craned her neck and instantly caught Reggie’s handiwork scattered across the table. “No, it’s not.”

Julie sat next to her, blinking in confusion. “Why do you need our napkins?”

Her smooth voice directed right at him caused a thrill up his spine, a grin involuntarily tugging on his lips. “Cause Reggie needs them for his crafts.” Playing along, the bassist lifted a janky frog with a wink. “I’m very dedicated.”

She matched Luke’s smile, amused. It was the most interaction he has had with her in months, the utter euphoria of it all bursting at the seams. Propelled by her smile, he slid out the booth and into Alex’ side, throwing his arms over the seat right next to Flynn’s head. The girl remained deeply unimpressed by him, gaze flicking past his physique. Damn. If he ever wanted to get anywhere with Julie, he had to get in Flynn’s good grazes. Kayla seemed chill though.

“What’s with the frown, Felicity?”, he joked.

Kayla giggled at the mention of Flynn’s actual name, the girl in question rolling her eyes. “All I’m wondering is why you have to bother us about napkins, Lukas.”

“Flynn,” Julie shook her head with an exasperated grin, “maybe wait for your strawberry shake? I think you’re being hangry.”

Her friend loosened up, sinking back in her seat with a playful pout and mumbling a resigned ‘fine.’

Luke took that as his sign to continue. His gaze fell back on Julie, hoping he wouldn’t sound too eager. “You guys come here a lot? I haven’t seen you here on Friday’s.”

“Who’re you asking?”, Julie asked, looking between her and Kayla. Oh, man. Small talk really wasn’t his forte. He couldn’t charm himself out of this one with music jargon or fake IDs.

His smile turned stressed, flailing his hand around. “Uh, all of you.”

“Sure,” Flynn snorted.

Alex slapped a hand on his mouth at her retort, almost in pain of not laughing his ass off. The prize of ‘Worst Friends Ever’ went to Luke’s - for fuck’s sake, couldn’t the drummer at least try and help him out?!

“Just wanted to celebrate Kayla’s good mark on her new song,” Julie continued, wilfully ignoring the other’s behaviour. Slinging an arm around her friend, she shot her a bright smile. “Her bridge was amazing, right?”  

All three boys nodded fervently as Kayla ducked her head bashfully, murmuring a ‘thank you’ and then relieved from all the attention when Nora walked up to them. Luke’s body didn’t twist to sit normally again, too invested in finally speaking to them, finally having that contact, that he didn’t even care if he seemed like a weirdo. Julie and him! Conversing!

“Speaking of music,” he casually uttered when Nora was off again. His signature smirk crawled on his lips. “We’re playing a gig tonight.”

This peaked Flynn’s interest. Perhaps the prospect of food made her more amicable. “Where?”

“Raven’s Nest,” Reggie proudly proclaimed.

Kayla frowned, worried. “Isn’t that the bar with all the bikes outside?”

“Thank you!”, Alex exclaimed with a sigh. “It’s insane!”

“It’s not,” Luke bit back. If Sunset Curve wanted to make it big, they had to play big! Gigs like these would get them on the stages they dreamed of. Soon, it was goodbye, Raven’s Nest and hello, The Orpheum! “Real Californians go there to hear real fucking music.”

To his surprise, Julie hummed in agreement. “My dad says it used to be where the subculture kids hung out before MP got cool.”

“Yes!” His grin was huge now, overflowing with joy. This was enough adrenaline to get him through three gigs at once! His finger pressed into the cracked leather. “Exactly! And we’re gonna slay it. You should come watch!”

The latter blurted out without wanting to, his eyes growing wide in panic as Reggie and Alex stilled in their seats and Flynn peered up at him with laser-focus. Shit. Was he telling on himself? Did she pierce through the charisma that this was just a poor attempt at flirting? God, he really should’ve prepared his speech for impulsive moments like these.

Luke still needed to endure some growing pains before he got good at flirting.

Julie chuckled, a hint of red appearing on her cheekbones. It enthralled him. Was she embarrassed or flattered? “Uh,” she bit her lip, “I don’t know if I can get in. Don’t you have to be eighteen?”

He raised his brow. “C’mon, you don’t have a fake?” At those words, Alex dropped his head on the table with a thud. Luke had enough of his own shit too. ‘Mortified’ didn’t even come close to how he felt about his blabbering mouth.  

Levelling his challenged look, however, he realised he wasn’t lost quite yet. Julie’s eyes glittered with mischief. “I do, actually.”

Breath caught in his throat. Yup. Coolest fucking girl in the universe. Julie Molina had a killer voice and a fake ID and probably did a whole lot of other dope stuff he hadn’t found out yet.

“Julie,” Flynn but in. “It’s a biker bar.”

“Where our classmates are playing,” she argued. “I can always try.”

“You’ll die.”

“I think I’ll be fine. Like Luke said-” No. She could not say his name and expect him to keep his cool. His fingers gripped the conjoined couch tighter. “-everyone’s there for the music.”

A careful smile slowly grew on Kayla. “We can tell your dad you’re with us.”

Flynn gaped at her. “We-?! I- okay.” Lifting her hands in surrender, she added: “Fine, we’ll tell Ray you’re at the movies with us.”

Wait, was Julie turning down a movie night with her friends to see him play? Did that mean something? Has he been so focused on trying to find or create a ‘vibe’ that he forgot to actually look for signs of her own? Damn. Now he really couldn’t screw this set up. Sunset Curve was gonna play until their hands bled, hopefully impressing her just a little bit.

It was settled then. After both groups had eaten, Julie separated from hers and joined them on their trek to Raven’s Nest. She was mostly talking to Reggie behind Alex and Luke, animatedly recounting a story about Carlos nearly crashing his drone in her keyboard. Jitters began to tingle his skin, that building excitement right before a gig mixing with Julie’s presence. It felt like one of his dreams materialised out of thin air.

How many times has he dreamt about catching her eye in the crowd as he crooned love songs he never dared to write? Granted, those dreams were centered in a hazier setting, Raven’s Nest quite unromantic opposed to that, but he would take what he got.

(And after, they’d worm their way through the masses of people, meeting halfway, and she’d sling her arms around his neck and he’d pull her into a kiss and it’d be electric. She’d kiss like she sang. It was a recurring dream that left him in a good mood for hours.)

Without much hesitance, the bouncer let Julie in. Luke, unable to keep his giddiness at bay, squeezed her shoulder as a dazzling beam was glued to his cheeks. Julie got in! Julie was going to see him play!

Raven’s Nest was expectedly filled with bearded, burly men. It reeked of beer and strong liquor, raucous chatter spilling from ever corner. They all probably looked like babies in comparison to these dudes, but he supposed his unfaltering confidence made up for it. Luke would get his boys (and Julie) through this. The stage was already prepared for them, amps and mics set up, Alex’ drums waiting in Reggie’s van behind the establishment.

“I’ve seen you play before, you know,” Julie mumbled beside him.

His heart soared without trying, its rate going a mile a minute as his jaw fell slack. All his nerves intensified till a blush crept on his cheeks. “You- you have?”

Her curious eyes flitted from the people to him, sheepish. “Yeah. At Ecliptica. You guys were good.”

A clammy hand raked the ends of his hair. Holy fucking shit. “You sounded like you never heard us before.”

“I didn’t want to seem like a fangirl, or something.” A secretive smile formed on her lips as she leaned into his side. “You know how school is. Everyone trying to be the best, but then act super casual about it?” Her eyes sparked in the yellow lighting, too close for him to think straight. “I didn’t want it to inflate you guys’ egos.”

Luke sputtered out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re doing it right now, Julie.”

“Then you better kill it,” she teased, nodding at Alex and Reggie hauling the drums onstage from the back door. “I think that’s your cue.”

There were two things he thought of right as he ascended the stage.

One, Julie was fat better at this whole back and forth than he was.

Two, he had to direct at least one song to her from their thirty minute set. Just one. Just so that his feelings might come across. Where words ended, music bled from his soul instead.

And so, the band exploded into what they knew best: burning the fucking house down.

So we’re taking the long way home 'Cause I don’t wanna be wasting my time alone I wanna get lost and drive forever with you Talking 'bout nothing, yeah, whatever, baby So we’re taking the long way home tonight We're taking the long way home

The giggly teenagers ended back in the diner after the incredible gig, shouting from the adrenaline and jostling arms to get points across. Even Julie joined in, much to his delight, tucked between him and the wall as she had a heated debate with an excited Reggie - harmonies versus basslines. Lemonades filled in condensed glasses gave them sticky fingers, hers once pushing his chin away when he told a particularly dumb joke and leaving an imprint. Luke was on fucking cloud nine.    

Taking the upper hand in the debate, Julie sang a bit of one of their songs (“Let's seize the day, let's run away, don't let the colours fade to grey!”) with all the tricks in the book, silencing Reggie just like that. Alex high fived Julie, the bassist admitting she won this time. Deeply relishing the sound of her singing voice, Luke barely caught what she was saying after.

“This time?”, she laughed. “There’s another time?”

“Why not?” Reggie wiggled his brows, unsubtle as hell when he shot Luke a wink. “Diner Friendship Memories Still To Be Made!”

Alex blinked. “What?”

Her eyes tracked past the boys, the smile turning more timid. It settled on Luke, the boy unable and unwilling to look away. He wanted this night to never end. Clasping her lemonade, she nodded firmly, as if signing Reggie’s silly Friendship Contract.

“Yeah… why not.”

Magenta’s Palace became Luke favourite place in the entire world. Every Friday, Julie joined the boys at their booth, sometimes Kayla and Flynn too. Huddled in those red leather seats with mountains of fries, they shared the first slivers of newfound friendship. Luke has always been very cautious about who he let in his circle (Sunset Curve against The World), but six people in a booth felt cosy rather than suffocating. Like it was always to be like this.

Reggie found an equally enthusiastic jazz lover in Kayla. Alex confided with Flynn that he followed her playlists on Spotify and was obsessed with her DJ skills.  

Luke and Julie created their own bubble without trying to.

It was weird. Maybe Alex was right and Luke did put her on a pedestal for so long. Julie was genuinely chill and easy to talk to, probably turned off by him before cause he had been acting like a blubbering idiot. Simply being himself was, surprisingly, more than enough for her. It lit a fire inside of him. Snarky banter about music that challenged him to keep up, overt flirting from him that kept her blushing, sudden ideas about lyrics that threw either for a loop. He wouldn’t admit it at first, but she made him a better songwriter.

Who knew his best songs would be found on stained paper napkins?  

One Friday night, long past midnight, the group stood outside as they bid each other a good weekend. Bathed in the pink glow of the LED lights, Luke felt it in his gut. He had to tell her. These past weeks his feelings had only grown tenfold, this incessant buzz rippling every atom of his body whenever she was close. Whenever she smiled, talked, sang. Stealing his beanie, eating his fries, sharing AirPods. Luke loved it all.  

It was a lot more than a simple crush.  

After Julie hugged Alex, Luke grabbed her into a tight hug. She instantly responded, wrapping her arms around his waist and burrowing herself in his red hoodie. His infatuated smile was hidden by her curls, so fucking happy he’d been impulsive enough to ask for a dispenser that day.

“Hey, Julie,” he whispered.

She looked up, eyes alight with an emotion that left his shivering. “Yeah?”

“Uh…” A smile trembled on his lips, unsure whether he wanted to drown in the pretty brown of her irises or continue talking. Now or never. “You wanna get breakfast tomorrow? With me?”

He didn’t have to live in the fear for long, a smile stretching across her cheeks as she shyly nodded. It was the first time he’d ever seen her this flustered, their hold on each other securing with quiet glee. Had he not been so mesmerised, the awestruck Luke would run a mile from the adrenaline rush.  

“Yeah,” she grinned, nose scrunched. “Sounds fun.”

They found themselves in the same spot the next day, the taste of syrupy pancakes melting with his as he kissed her on the parking lot of Magenta’s Palace. Julie’s lips curled into a smile and Luke figured there was no better feeling in the world then that.

(Yeah, he could get used to this.)

Saturday’s mornings had never been sweeter.  

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@blush-and-books @willexx @bluefirewrites @unsaid-emily @ourstarscollided

[mcheang]

Lila doesn't know that Marinette's parents own the bakery and thinks that she's just an employee. So, she tries getting Mari fired by acting like a Karen, complaining about the service, etc. Or, she just tells the Tom and Sabine about how Mari is a bully at school and other lies. Unbeknownst to Lila, one of her classmates or someone from school overhears and records what Lila said. Tom and Sabine either reveal that they're Mari's parents or she learns at school.

Nickname

I’m not gonna use the phrase “Karen”. It’s kind of sad that this name can also be an insult. I always liked the name ever since watching Mermaid Melody.

Everyone knows Chloé refers to Marinette as “Dupain-Cheng”. But how does Lila learn about it?

One morning, Lila saw Chloé lounging at her desk when Marinette rushed in, surprisingly on time for once.

Chloé held out her hand imperiously. “Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette huffed. “I have a name you know.” And she handed over a T&S box of macarons.

Chloé: your point?

Lila turned to Nathaniel. “Does Marinette work at a bakery or something?”

Nathaniel: You’ve never been to Tom and Sabine’s patisserie before? You’ve gotta go today. They are the best patisserie in Paris!

Lila raised a brow. “Wow, Marinette must be quite the baker to have gotten hired.”

Nathaniel shrugged. “Well, she’s still learning but Marinette comes from a long line of bakers. She’ll probably be a professional by the time we graduate.”

Lila hid her scowl. She had not forgotten her promise of war to Marinette. And what better way to start then by sabotaging her job? After all, Lila had only just returned and while the class was under her spell, they won’t be so easy to turn on their old friend just yet. A professional bakery on the other hand...

Lila visited the bakery after school, when she was certain no one from class would be visiting it.

Down there, Lila wasn’t that impressed by the space, though the decor was colourful and elegant.

She ordered a macaron. After having a nibble of the admittedly scrumptious macaron, Lila made a face.

Tom: oh, is something wrong?

Lila: oh, it’s just that this is my first time in Paris and I was looking forward to trying the pastries here. I’m a popular food blogger you see. I travel overseas for holidays and recommend what to try and what to avoid on my blog. My fans were so excited to see my food recommendations, one of which was the macarons. But after this, I’m disappointed.

A waiting customer in line heard what Lila said and started filming her. Lila didn’t mind.

Tom was worried. “I’m sorry to hear that. Normally our customers love our macarons. Perhaps it’s because you are not used to french cuisine?”

Lila but back a retort, and instead sighed. “I gave this place a try after Marinette recommended it.”

Tom: our Marinette?

Lila: yes, she kept pushing me to come visit your patisserie. Even after I said yes, she kept badgering me and even the teacher reprimanded us!

Tom raised a brow. “That doesn’t sound like Marinette.”

Lila: she also promised me a free box of macarons if I visited. But now I’m not so sure. I’m afraid this is a definite place-to-avoid for my blog.

Tom was now suspicious of this girl. Marinette never pushed for reviewers to visit their place. She never needed to. Their bakery was doing splendidly. And it’s not like Marinette to just surprise them with a strange blogger without leaving a warning message.

Lila was hoping her representation of Marinette would paint her as a horrible employee. And she wanted some free macarons too from a boss hoping to salvage his company’s reputation.

But Tom just crossed his arms and gave a cold smile. “I’m sorry you didn’t like our macarons. But you still have to pay for the macaron you just ate.”

Lila frowned at the man. “So rude. I should at least have gotten a refund for the horrid taste.”

Tom’s face turned stern. “If you refuse to pay, I will call the police.”

Lila rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a drama queen.” She handed over a bill. “Here.”

Lila stormed out, too upset to even enjoy the macaron in her hand.

When Marinette and Alya came inside, Tom called them over. “Marinette, is there a food blogger in your school.”

Marinette blinked. “Not that I know of. Alya?”

Alya shrugged, “Sorry. I don’t watch those.”

Tom: a girl came by today saying you had offered her a free box of macarons in exchange for her visiting. She also claimed to be a food blogger.

Alya: must have been a scammer.

Marinette: but how did she know my name? From the sound of it, she probably never came here before.

Tom: she had brown hair.

Alya: that’s it?

Tom scratched his head. “I’m not good at remembering people. But that’s the beauty of security cameras!”

Tom led them to the back where he showed the girls the Lila drama.

Marinette growled. “Lila!”

Alya: what the hell? You never go near her if you can help it, always claiming she’s a ...liar...oh.

Marinette: yeah.

Alya: well, I can see why you hate her so much now if this is her true personality. What a snob. Even Chloé doesn’t act like that.

Tom: so you do know her.

Marinette: Lila’s a new girl who likes to make up grand stories about herself and has somehow convinced our friends to buy her lunch.

Alya counted off her fingers. “Forgotten wallet, sprained wrist, allergic to the cheap menu items, donated all her allowance to charity...”

Marinette: which one did you pay for?

Alya: when she told me she was robbed. Ugh. That liar is going down!

Marinette: but Adrien thinks we should take the high road.

Alya: Adrien’s rich. We’re not! I’m busting her right now! Mr Dupain, may I film this scene?

Tom: sure. I have to get back to the counter to help Sabine.

But as Alya spread the footage to the class, another clip was being shared rapidly among Parisians.

The girls opened their messages to see a video link.

WHO IS THIS GIRL TO CRITICISE OUR BELOVED PATISSERIE?

It was the same scene, but shot from another angle.

The waiting customer was a fan of the patisserie and a regular customer. She was not pleased at hearing a supposedly famous blogger giving the shop a bad review from just one nibble. and Marinette was such a sweetheart, the customer didn’t believe the drivel that came out of Lila’s mouth. And so she posted this clip, calling Lila out on her rude behavior, and asking if anyone knows this so-called famous food blogger.

Alya eagerly replied.

This clip became so widely spread that it even made the evening news, told by Nadja Chmack, who had even interviewed Mrs Rossi and told her what Alya and other commenters have said.

Mrs Rossi was too stunned to give a comment and had retreated to her office.

Ironic that the diplomat had such a mob-rousing daughter.

Mrs Rossi’s public humiliation was perfect for akuma bait. She basically spent her time looking for Lila to confront her but was defeated before Lila even knew what was going on.

Mrs Rossi apologized to the heroes for doubting their ability.

When Lila came home, she was surprised to see her mother waiting for her. Were they actually having dinner together?

Not exactly. Mrs Rossi tore into Lila for her horrendous behavior and outrageous lies.

And because Mrs Rossi was in the spotlight for negligent parenting, she went for extreme measures. From now on, Mrs Rossi would call the school every day, once in the morning to see if Lila had arrived, and every evening to see her progress report. Lila’s allowance would be cut off since she had been cheating her classmates for lunch money. Lila would also be seeing a professional therapist regarding her behavior.

Lila was shocked and furious she had been exposed to Paris as a fraud. She was hoping for an akuma, but Mrs Rossi had realized her lecture would cause upset emotion so she had asked the heroes to keep an eye out while she lectured her daughter. Ladybug caught the approaching akuma quite easily. Chat Noir’s night vision helped.

Lila tries to claim she felt lonely but Mrs Rossi retorted that was no excuse for her behavior. Then Lila tried to blame her mother for neglecting her and forcing her to keep leaving behind any new friends she makes just because of her diplomat job.

Mrs Rossi paused at that. It was true.

“Fine. I’ll concede on that point.”

Lila brightened up until her mother continued. “You’ll be finishing one last semester here before I send you home to live with my parents. They’ll give you undivided attention (monitoring) and you’ll have friends for the long-run (which means if Lila gets caught for lying, she will face the consequences instead of moving away)”

Lila: you’re abandoning me again?!

Mrs Rossi: I’m going to leave you in capable hands. And it’s not like I don’t want to spend time with you, Lila. But someone has to keep a roof over our heads and pay the bills.

When Lila returned to school the next day, she scowled right back at the glares that came her way. Upon entering class, Chloé called out, “Look, it’s the famous blogger. Oh, wait, no, never mind. It’s just some bragging nobody.”

Adrien stayed silent. Alya had chewed him out for his advice and warned him he was on shaky ground. Yeah, Nino wasn’t happy with him either but defended his bro was unaware of the cafeteria activity since he was always at home for lunch.

When Lila sat down, Nathaniel drawled next to her. “Oh, did I mention Lie-la, that the patisserie you asked about is Marinette’s family business?”

Lila’s fingernails had splinters under them.

[massivedrickhead]

bechloe tattoo shop au? Beca gives Chloe a tattoo?

So I’ve had this prompt in my inbox forever. I started writing it last year not long after I got my tattoo but it wasn’t going anywhere so I kinda gave up on it. But I just started watching Ink Master and I had to finish this prompt. 

It’s kind of pointless but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, and now I’ve written it I might as well share it.

I also gave Beca loads of tattoos because I’m high-key attracted to the idea of a heavily tatted Beca

Read on AO3

------

“Hi,” Chloe said, approaching the reception desk at Titanium Tattoos and Piercings. There was a blonde woman sitting behind the desk, spinning on her chair.

“What’s up?” She asked, with a heavy Australian accent. 

“I have a consultation appointment,” Chloe said. 

“Cool, what’s your name?” The woman asked, looking down at her computer.

“Chloe Beale,” Chloe said.

The woman nodded. “You’re meeting with Beca?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said.

“She’s in with a client right now, why don’t you take a seat and she’ll be out soon. My name is Fat Amy, give me a shout if you need anything.” Amy said, gesturing over to a collection of couches. 

Chloe nodded and took a seat, her eyes roaming over the art that was hung around the room. She recognised a lot of it from Instagram, and she knew Beca was responsible for most.

Chloe waited for another 10 minutes before Beca came out, followed by a very pale looking man. 

“Okay Jesse,” Beca said, patting him on the shoulder, “keep it clean, no swimming for a few weeks,  and when it starts healing don’t pick it.” She handed him a sheet of paper. “Follow these instructions and take care of it yeah? If you get it infected it makes me look like a jackass.”

Jesse laughed. “Thanks, Beca.”

“Go give Amy your money and give us a call if you have any questions or anything,” Beca said. She spotted Chloe waiting. “Chloe, right?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said.

“Give me a couple of minutes to grab a drink and I’ll be with you. You want a coffee or anything?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Chloe said, watching Beca rush off to another room.

Chloe’s heart was pounding, and it was only partly due to nerves. Beca was cute. She had seen a picture of her on the tattoo shop’s Instagram but seeing her in person was something else.

Beca returned after a few minutes. “Chloe? Do you wanna follow me?” 

Chloe nodded and followed Beca into the shop. 

“Sorry I’m running a bit late,” Beca said. “My last guy got a bit lightheaded, we had to take a break.”

“No worries,” Chloe said.

Beca showed her into her room and asked her to take a seat.

“So, this is just a consultation, I’m not going to be sticking you with any needles today,” Beca said taking a seat next to her. “What is you’re wanting to get done?”

“I have a couple of reference photos,” Chloe said, pulling up her phone. “I want something kind of floral but a bit geometric too?” She handed Beca her phone who nodded and she swiped through the pictures. “And I also want to incorporate this ‘B’,” Chloe added, showing Beca a specific picture. 

“Okay, cool,” Beca said. She rolled her chair over to her desk in the corner and came back with a sketchbook and pencil. She started drawing as she spoke. “The B isn’t your partner’s initial is it?”

“No,” Chloe said, laughing. “I’m single.”

“Can I ask what it’s for?”

“Don’t laugh,” Chloe said. “But, um, I’m graduating from college next month, and this is the logo of the a cappella group I’m in.”

She saw the corners of Beca’s mouth twitch as she carried on drawing.

“That’s cute,” Beca said. 

Chloe laughed and felt herself blush slightly as she watched Beca draw. She was having a hard time focusing on anything else. Beca’s eye makeup was dark, her ears were pierced in several locations, and both arms had what looked like full sleeve tattoos.

She was distractingly attractive.

“You thinking colour or like black and grey?” Beca asked, glancing up.

“I was thinking black for the flowers and the shape, like kinda simplistic, not a lot of shading. But maybe we could do some colour in the logo?”

Beca nodded. “Awesome. Like the blue in this picture?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said.

“Where did you want it?”

“My ribs,” Chloe said.

This time Beca looked up fully and stopped drawing. “Is this your first tattoo?”

“No,” Chloe said, pointing at her tiny ladybug on her wrist.

“Cute,” Beca said, laughing softly. She ran a hand through her hair. “You sure about getting it on your ribs? It hurts like a bitch.”

“I’m sure,” Chloe said, laughing. 

“Okay,” Beca said, grinning. “How big?” She moved closer and put her hands against Chloe’s ribs. “Like this?”

Chloe felt suddenly light headed. “Yeah,” she said, trying to keep her voice casual.

Beca nodded again. She turned her sketchbook over so Chloe could see and passed her phone back. 

“So I can do something like this. You’ve got the geometric diamond shape here and that contains the flowers, but they’re sort of breaking that barrier here,” Beca said, pointing out different aspects of her sketches. “And then we can put the ‘B’ in the flowers but maybe a bit concealed? To give it some like depth.”

Chloe knew she should be focusing on what Beca was telling her, but she was having a hard time focusing when Beca was this close.

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Chloe said, finally looking down at Beca’s sketches. “Exactly what I’m looking for.”

“Cool,” Beca said, grinning. “Can you send me that logo? I’m gonna draw up some more designs tonight.”

“Sure,” Chloe said. She airdropped Beca a picture of the logo. “I really love these designs, Beca. They’re perfect.”

“Thanks,” Beca said. “I’m glad you think so, you’re going to have this tattoo for a while.”

“So when can we do this?” Chloe asked, standing with Beca and heading back to the front of the shop.

“I might have some time tomorrow if you’re up for it?” Beca asked, heading behind the reception desk to check her schedule. 

“Yeah, that would be great,” Chloe said. “I’m free all day.”

Beca began typing into the computer. “How about 3pm?”

“Sounds great,” Chloe said, feeling a rush of nerves and excitement. She knew her tattoo was going to hurt like crazy, but somehow she was more nervous about having Beca’s hands on her body.

“Sweet,” Beca said grinning and typing into her computer. “So, I would recommend you don’t drink any alcohol tonight and please don’t drink any tomorrow. Make sure you eat too, I don’t want you passing out in my chair.”

“I don’t want that either,” Chloe said, laughing. 

—

Chloe arrived the next morning with a stomach full of butterflies but feeling excited. She was looking forward to seeing Beca again and she couldn’t wait to get her new tattoo, despite how much pain she was about to go through.

Beca called her through after she had been waiting for a couple of minutes.

“I usually take a girl for a drink before I ask this, but can you take your shirt off?” Beca asked.

Chloe laughed and pulled off her t-shirt, leaving her in just her bra. “Can I keep this on?” She asked, tugging at her strap.

“For now, yes,” Beca said. “Let’s get the design on there and see how it sits.”

Beca placed a piece of paper against Chloe’s ribs and applied the stencil of her design. When she peeled the paper away, a blue stencil remained.

“Have a look in the mirror,” Beca said. “Try it on for a bit while I get set up. Move your arm around, see how that’s going to affect the tattoo. Just make sure you’re 100% happy with it. Anything you wanna change or add we can do no problem right now.”

Chloe looked at the stencil in the mirror and did what Beca advised, twisting her arm and side, making sure it didn’t distort the tattoo in any weird way. 

She loved the design Beca had made, and she couldn’t wait to wear it.

“Happy?” Beca asked.

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “I love it.”

“Anything you want to change?” 

“Nope,” Chloe said, stilling grinning at the design in the reflection. 

“Okay, then let’s get started,” Beca said. She patted her chair which had been folded flat like a bed. As Beca pulled on a pair of black latex gloves, Chloe lay down on her side, her back to Beca’s chair. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, feeling her heart race as Beca placed her hands on her ribs.

“Here we go.”

Beca hadn’t been lying when she said the ribs hurt. Each line felt like a knife was being pulled slowly across her skin. 

“How’s it going?” Beca asked after about thirty minutes.

“Yeah it’s uh, it feels great,” Chloe said.

Beca laughed. “Liar.”

“It fucking hurts,” Chloe said, laughing lightly. 

“You need a break or anything you let me know, okay?” Beca said, wiping away some ink and blood.

“Will do,” Chloe said, clenching her hand as Beca carried on tattooing. 

“How come you picked this design?” Beca asked, eager to keep Chloe’s mind off the pain she was putting her through.

“I just really wanted a way to commemorate the Bellas,” Chloe said. “They’ve been my family for like the last four years. They gave me confidence and - ah fuck - and a support system. That last line really hurt.” Chloe laughed, feeling tears prick her eyes.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Beca said. “We’re making progress though.”

“Good,” Chloe said. “What’s been your most painful tattoo?”

“My ribs for sure,” Beca said. “I had some big pieces planned for them but after I got some lyrics tattooed there I totally changed those plans. So if it makes you feel better, I think you’re metal as fuck right now.”

Chloe laughed again. “That does make me feel better.”

“Your next tattoo is gonna be way easier now,” Beca said. 

“My next one?”

“Yeah you’re gonna get the bug, trust me,” Beca said, wiping away some more ink and blood. “It hurts like a bitch but I kinda like it.”

Whatever Chloe had planned on saying disappeared as a string of expletives flew out of her mouth.

“Damn I did not expect that from you,” Beca said laughing. She could see Chloe gripping the side of chair. “You doing okay?”

“Mhm,” Chloe replied, jaw clenched.

“No you’re not,” Beca said, stopping her machine. “We’re taking a break.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said, letting out a slow breath. 

“Stay where you are, I’ll get you some water,” Beca said. She pulled off her gloves and dropped them in the trash. “If you wanna sit up wait until I’m back, okay?”

“I’m good down here,” Chloe said.

Beca left and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and a straw. She stretched her back out before heading back in.

“You still with me?” Beca asked.

“Sure am,” Chloe said.

Beca pulled her chair around so she was sat by Chloe’s head, and passed her the bottle and the straw. 

“Your bedside manner is excellent,” Chloe said, smiling as she took a drink.

“I just don’t want anyone having a bad experience in my shop,” Beca said. “Plus if you passed out I’m way too tiny to lift anyone off the ground. You ready to finish this bitch?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, drinking some more and then putting the bottle down.

“Awesome,” Beca said. She pulled on a new pair of gloves, pulled her chair back up to Chloe’s side, and started her machine back up. “We’re almost done with the line work now. Then it’s just some shading and some colour.”

“Cool,” Chloe said, thinking it still sounded like a lot to do. “So have you got any tattoos you regret?”

“Uh, not really. I mean I have some kinda shitty tattoos, but I think even bad tattoos tell a story,” Beca said. “I do have an ex-girlfriend’s name hidden under a cover-up though. That’s why I’ll always try and dissuade a client from getting their partner’s name on them.”

Chloe laughed. “Yeah I think that’s good advice. Is there anything you’ll just refuse to tattoo?”

“Oh yeah,” Beca said. “I won’t do any Nazi shit, or any other racist stuff. Nothing homophobic or anything like that. Like it’s just a straight up no, and once I know they want something like that I won’t tattoo anything else on them either.”

“That’s awesome,” Chloe said.

“Yeah, I don’t want bigot dollars,” Beca said. She stopped tattooing and wiped down the ink and blood again. “Okay the outline is done.”

“Thank god,” Chloe said, letting out a breath of relief. 

“You’re doing great,” Beca said. “Not much longer, I promise.”

As Beca carried on the tattoo, they carried on talking, each learning a little more about each other. 

Chloe learned that Beca also made music, and spent a few evenings a week DJing.

Beca learned that Chloe volunteered at an animal shelter, gaining experience for when she went to veterinary school in the fall.

After hours of tattooing, Chloe was finally done.

Beca helped her up, and Chloe admired her new tattoo in the mirror.

“Beca, it’s so awesome,” Chloe said, grinning. “I love it.”

“I’m really glad,” Beca said. “Can I take a quick pick for the Instagram before I get you wrapped up?”

“Yeah, of course,” Chloe said.

Beca took a few pictures and then cleaned and wrapped Chloe’s new tattoo, before handing her a sheet of paper on aftercare.

“Please take care of it. No scratching, no picking, no getting it dirty,” Beca said. “Follow these instructions and you’re gonna have a beautiful, nicely healed, tattoo in about a month.”

“Thank you so much, Beca. It’s exactly what I wanted, it’s perfect,” Chloe said.

“You are very welcome,” Beca said. “You sat like a champ. I’ve had grown men cry in my chair getting their ribs done, you did great.”

“So, um, what’s the deal on drinking now?” Chloe asked.

Beca laughed. “Give it 48 hours at least. This sounds gross but you’re gonna be bleeding and… oozing for the next couple of days, you don’t really want to thin your blood.”

“I can drink by Saturday then?” 

“Sure,” Beca said. “You got big plans?”

“No, I was just kinda hoping I could go on a date with this cute girl on Saturday,” Chloe said. Having survived her tattoo, she was suddenly feeling invincible.

“Sounds like a lucky girl,” Beca said. 

“Beca, would you like to come for a drink with me on Saturday?”

Beca couldn’t stop the grin that spread over her face. “I see. I’m the lucky girl?”

“You can be.”

“Sure,” Beca said. “It isn’t often I get asked out by clients after I put them through three hours of pain. Let’s do this.”

[lilyvandersteen]

Don’t Jinx It by lilyvandersteen

Author’s Note: This story is dedicated to @grlnxtdr30​, who fuelled my inspiration with a wintery Klaine fic prompt. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy reading this!

As soon as Kurt stepped outside, it was clear to him that he shouldn’t have put on those gorgeous boots he bought at 70% off on Black Friday.

Overnight, the drizzle that had been falling all week long had frozen solid on the sidewalk. Kurt stared at the ice, horror-struck. He was clumsy and uncoordinated on the best of days. This was an accident just waiting to happen, especially with boots that were stylish but offered no grip. He would need to either go back upstairs to his apartment to change his footwear or suck it up and hope he’d get to work in one piece.

Seeing as he was already running late for work, he decided to risk it.

He slipped and slithered and cursed a lot, but apart from falling on his bum twice, his luck held until he reached the Condé Nast building. His sigh of relief came too early, however. He slipped right in front of the sliding doors, his flailing arms found nothing to hold onto, and down he went, hard. He heard a sound like a branch snapping in half. Pain flamed through his left leg. Before he had time to process this, his head hit the sidewalk, and he blacked out.

When he came to, Cathy from the reception desk was crouching next to him, freaking out if her frantic babbling was anything to go by. “Kurt! Kurt, please wake up! Oh my God, why does this have to happen while I’m on duty. I’m not good with blood and stuff. I faint, and I panic, and I never know what to do. Should I call an ambulance? But they’re gonna wanna know what’s wrong with him, and I have no idea. Kurt! Dammit, Kurt, wake up, will you? I can’t have you die on my watch!”

“I’m not dead,” Kurt said.

Cathy jumped and held her hand to her heart. “Jeez, warn a girl next time! You okay?”

“Never better.”

“Really?”

Kurt glared at her. “No!”

Cathy’s relieved smile slid off her face, and she backed away a little.

Kurt hastened to sit up - wow, that made him feel dizzy - and apologise. “Sorry, sorry! I just… My head hurts, and my leg hurts even more, and I haven’t even had coffee yet ‘cause I overslept… But that’s not your fault. None of it. So… Sorry for snapping at you.”

Cathy offered him a hand to help him up, but as soon as he put pressure on his left foot, he hissed in pain. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!!”

Cathy went back to looking panicked. “Maybe you’d better sit back down?”

Kurt bit back a sharp retort and sat.

Okay. A broken ankle. Great. Just great. Could this day suck any more?

“Want me to call you an ambulance?” Cathy asked.

“Nah. A cab will be cheaper. Where’s the nearest clinic where they do X-rays?”

“I’ll look that up for you, and I’ll call you a cab, too.”

“Great. Thanks, Cathy, I appreciate it.”

Kurt shuffled a bit to the side so as not to hinder any other Vogue employees from going in or out the building, and called Isabelle to tell her what had happened, and to promise he’d be back as soon as he could. He tried calling Adam as well, but got his voicemail three times in a row.

After that, there was nothing for him to do but wait for Cathy to come back, or the cab to arrive, whichever came first. His stomach rumbled, and his bum went numb from sitting on the cold hard ground.

Luckily, it didn’t take long to rustle up a cab, and an hour later, he limped into the room where his X-rays would be taken.

In the waiting room, he’d tried calling Adam about six more times. Either Adam had forgotten his mobile at home, or his phone battery was dead again.

Ugh. Could this day suck any more?

The X-rays showed that his ankle was broken. In two places. But apparently, it was a “mild” break, according to the chipper radiology assistant. “It shouldn’t take too long for it to heal. Four weeks in a cast should do it. We’ll get you a pair of crutches, and you’ll be all set!”

The assistant escorted him to the plaster room and told him to lie down on the ambulatory chair and wait for the nurse to arrive. Kurt took his boots off and lay down as instructed. The nurse bustled in, and before Kurt could say or do anything, she cut open his trousers to put a cast on his lower leg and foot.

Kurt’s eyes almost bulged out of his sockets. “These are Ralph Lauren!”

“These are tight as hell, and we’d never have gotten them off you without doing more damage to your ankle,” the nurse retorted. “Buy yourself some wide jogging pants for the coming weeks.”

Kurt sulked through the whole application of the cast. Those trousers were among his absolute favourites, and it was a colour that paired beautifully with most of his shirts.

I hate this! Could this day suck any more?

When he hopped outside a little later, he shivered as soon as the cold hit him, and realized he’d left his coat in the X-ray room. He managed to find the room again, but not his coat. The assistant, still as chipper as ever, helped him look everywhere, and even went to the plaster room to check if Kurt had left it there. He hadn’t. His coat was gone. And his phone had been in the inside pocket, so he’d lost that, too.

Noooo! Maybe I should stop asking myself if the day could get any worse, cause every time I do, something worse happens. I hope this was the last of it.

He thanked the assistant and left the clinic, struggling to keep his balance with the crutches. The wind seemed even colder now, and… wetter?

Oh, great, it’s snowing now, too.

The air was filled with fat snowflakes, and in other circumstances, he’d have smiled and made plans to go for a walk in Central Park. Now, though, it was inconvenient.

He looked for a cab to get home, but there weren’t any around, and of course he couldn’t call one without a phone.

He cursed under his breath when a drop of ice-cold slush fell on his neck and trickled down his spine. He had to get out of the cold, and fast, before he caught pneumonia.

There! Across the road was a cosy-looking coffee shop, tastefully decorated, with a steady stream of people going in and out and lovely smells wafting his way.

Kurt hopped his way to the coffee shop slowly and carefully. He didn’t want to fall again. A woman heading out of the shop held the door open for him, and he smiled and nodded gratefully.

Inside, it was toasty warm, and the delectable smells were even stronger. Kurt’s smile widened, and he joined the queue to get a hot drink and a snack. Thank heavens he still had his wallet!

He found himself humming along with the Christmas songs playing, and admiring the nifty bowtie one of the baristas was wearing.

Of course, that was when the universe decided he was too happy, and messed with him again.

Kurt heard someone laughing. A laugh that sounded very familiar. He could have sworn that was Adam.

And yes, when he turned around, he saw his boyfriend of two years, now lip-locked with some other guy, plastered against him and fondling his ass as though he’d forgotten he was in a public place.

Kurt moved towards the table Adam was sitting at, barely aware of what he was doing.

“Adam?”

He had to call twice more before his boyfriend ended the kiss and looked up. “Yes?”

When Adam saw it was Kurt, he didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed. Instead, his expression was annoyed.

“Who’s this, sweetheart?” the other guy asked.

Adam let out a put-upon sigh. “That stalker I told you about. I thought he’d give up after I graduated last June, but here he is, as annoying as ever. Don’t pay him any attention, Jules, he’s not worth it.”

Kurt was struck numb. What was happening?

Jules turned to him, his lips a thin line. “Okay, let’s have a little talk. You seem like a nice enough guy, but you need to stop bugging my boyfriend. It’s been TWO YEARS. Adam has told you time and again that he’s taken. Get over your crush and find someone else to love. Because this is not healthy. Okay? Let it go.”

Kurt gaped at him for a moment, before he got himself together enough to ask, “YOUR boyfriend?”

Jules looked at Adam with a soft smile, and then at Kurt again. “Yes. We’ve been together for nearly five years now, and we’ve been living together for three. We’re quite committed to each other. I’m afraid you never had a chance with Adam.”

Kurt fixed Adam with a stare. “So that’s why I could never come to your place. Now I get it.”

“Why would you need to come to our place?” asked Jules.

Kurt sighed and ran a hand over his forehead. “I hate to break it to you, but Adam isn’t as committed to you as you think.”

“Don’t listen to him, Jules!”

Kurt continued, “He’s been dating me for two years. I swear I had no idea he was seeing you at the same time.”

“He’s lying!” Adam shouted. “A sick, twisted little liar is what you are, and I don’t want you anywhere near me!”

He stood up and made to push Kurt, but Jules stopped him. “No, don’t! Can’t you see his leg is broken? He’ll get hurt even more!”

“He deserves to!” Adam thundered.

Kurt flinched and took a step back, losing his balance. Thankfully, Jules caught him and offered his chair for Kurt to sit on.

“What are you doing?” By this time, Adam was nearly apoplectic with rage. “Don’t let him sit down, tell him to bugger off!”

Jules gave him a long look. “Calm down, and let the boy have his say.”

“It’s nothing but lies!”

“I’m not taking anyone’s word as gospel at the moment. I’m sure that whoever speaks the truth, will be able to prove he’s right.”

“Jules!”

Kurt looked up. “I can prove it, if you’ll let me use your phone for a minute. Mine got stolen earlier today.”

“It’s a trick!” Adam yelled. “He’ll steal your phone!”

Jules rolled his eyes, and handed Kurt his phone after unlocking it. “Don’t be ridiculous, the boy can barely walk, let alone run.”

Kurt logged into his Google account and looked for the sexy videos he had of Adam on his Google Drive. He selected one and pressed play, angling the phone so that only he and Jules could watch, and turned up the volume to the max. The video showed Adam jerking off while telling Kurt everything he liked about Kurt’s body and everything he wanted to do to it when he next had the chance. It ended with Adam coming and shouting “Kuuuuuurt” really loudly.

There was nothing but silence when the video ended. You could hear a pin drop in the coffee shop.

Kurt closed the window, logged out again and handed the phone back to Jules.

Jules swallowed with difficulty. “I take it your name is Kurt?”

Kurt nodded. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I really didn’t know he was two-timing us.”

He got up from the chair and gently pushed Jules onto it, then handed him his drink.

Jules sipped from it, staring blankly ahead.

“You’re really going to believe him over me?” Adam asked, putting on a wounded air.

Jules set his mug down with a clang and glared at Adam.

“That video was fake!” Adam insisted.

Jules set his jaw. “Shut. Up.”

“I love you. Please don’t do this.”

“Shut. Up. That was you. I know what you look like naked. I know what you sound like when you’re turned on. I know what you look like when you orgasm. And that was you in that video. Dirty talking to HIM. Saying HIS name, not mine. I’ll give you until three this afternoon to pack your things and leave my apartment. Then I’m changing the locks.”

Adam wrung his hands. “You don’t mean that!”

“I sure do. You get ‘till three p.m., and not a minute longer. Better get a move on!”

Jules got up, put his coat on, nodded at Kurt and left without sparing a look at Adam, who seemed beyond speech or action.

As soon as the door clanged shut behind Jules, though, Adam unfroze and lunged for Kurt. “You bloody arsehole! You piece of shite! He’s throwing me out of his flat because of you! You will PAY for this!!”

Before he could hurt Kurt even more than he already was, two coffee shop employees grabbed Adam by the shoulders and firmly escorted him out, telling him he was no longer welcome in the shop.

Adam looked like he wanted to argue, but the taller of the two employees cracked his knuckles and said, “Give me an excuse, man, go on. Make my day.”

That shut Adam up at once, and he scurried off as fast as his legs could carry him.

Applause rang out in the coffee shop when the employees came back in, and the tall one doffed an imaginary hat and made a low bow. “Thank you, thank you!”

Kurt sagged down on the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands, no longer able to keep the tears at bay. He was cold, tired and hungry; he’d gotten both his ankle and his heart broken, and it hurt like hell. He’d give himself five minutes to have a good cry about this and then he would try and find a taxi to take him home.

“Hey,” said a soft voice, and he felt a fleeting pressure on his arm.

Kurt looked up and saw the bowtie-wearing barista. “Oh… I-I haven’t… I know I haven’t bought anything yet, but I will. In a minute. I promise. I just needed… a moment.”

The barista, whose name tag read “Blaine”, smiled at Kurt. “Relax. You can sit here as long as you like. And I brought you something to cheer you up. On the house.”

Blaine set a tray down, winked at Kurt and disappeared behind the counter again.

Kurt watched him go with his mouth wide open, and then looked at the tray. On it was a steaming mug that smelled of cookie spices, and a filled croissant still hot from the oven.

Quick as a flash, he tore off a piece and popped it in his mouth. Ah, heaven!

The rest of the croissant disappeared in no time, and by the time he’d finished his hot drink as well, he found himself smiling again.

“Better?” the same soft voice asked.

Kurt looked up at Blaine and nodded. “Much better. Thank you. You knew just what I needed.”

Blaine grinned. “Something sweet always helps. May I ask… Why aren’t you wearing a coat in this weather?”

Kurt’s face fell. “It got stolen at the clinic. With my phone.”

“That sucks. Not your day, huh?”

Kurt let out a humourless chuckle. “You can say that again.”

“Do you live nearby?”

Kurt shook his head.

“Is there someone you could call to come pick you up?”

Kurt shook his head again, his heart sinking.

“Okay… So here’s what we’re going to do. My shift will be over in an hour. Then I’ll call us a cab and I’ll bring you home, all right?”

Kurt looked at Blaine in wonder. “Why would you? You don’t know me at all!”

“Call it my good deed for the day. It’s about time your bad luck streak got broken.”

“Oh, don’t jinx it!”

Blaine was as good as his word, and after his shift, he brought Kurt home and escorted him upstairs to his apartment.

The first thing Kurt saw as he came in was a paperback that belonged to Adam on the coffee table. He picked it up, and tears sprung to his eyes again.

“Well, I guess I should count myself lucky I never gave Adam a key,” he mumbled.

“Are you scared your ex will turn up here?” Blaine asked, solicitous as always.

Kurt stared at him, aghast. He hadn’t even thought of that. “I…”

“I can stay with you a while longer, if that would make you feel safer. I was heading to the library for some peace and quiet to study, ‘cause my roommates are noisy, but I can just as well work here, if you’re okay with that. I’ve got my laptop and everything.”

“Oh. I…”

Blaine shrugged. “Or not. We don’t actually know each other. I guess I shouldn’t expect you to feel safer with a stranger around.”

Kurt cocked his head to the side. “You know what? I do feel safe with you. Yes, stay. We can get some work done together. And I’ll make us dinner, in a bit. Consider that a thank you for helping me out.”

Blaine ended up staying after dinner, too, even though Adam never showed up, and he was the first contact Kurt added to his new phone.

He took Blaine to Vogue’s Christmas party two weeks later, and kissed him under the mistletoe.

Six months later, Blaine moved in with him, and a little later, Kurt took him to Ohio to meet his dad.

When Kurt proposed to Blaine the next New Year’s Eve, he said, “I’m so glad I met you that day. You were the one who turned my bad luck around, and saved the day for me. And that’s what you’ve kept doing, every day since. You make my life so much better and brighter. Will you marry me and stay with me for keeps?”

Blaine said yes, of course, and Kurt’s luck held for the rest of his days.

THE END

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation P8

Joe Goldberg x Reader x Love Quinn

Warnings: a lying bitch and a writer who hates writing warnings because they spoil what’s to come

Notes: James Elkins, a fairly well known art historian, once wrote “Love would be the state in which I hunt a hunter or fall prey to prey” (The Object Stares Back, 1996). This is a quote I reflected on a lot while writing this series, though I’d still say they dont feel connected. I had to read the book for class so y’all have to deal with my bs

I barely managed to sleep last night.

I’m so incredibly tired. My eyes are heavy and I’m having trouble keeping my focus.

Snap.

Love is in front of me, snapping her fingers. I’ll give her my attention soon, but I’m caught in a thought.

That car from last night. I wonder who it was... I think I’ve seen that specific car before. That or the lack of sleep is getting to me and I’m seeing things.

Snap.

I blink repeatedly and then set my sights straight onto Love’s face.

“We open soon. Are you alright? You’re really out of it.” Love asks.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” I smile reassuringly. ”I’ve just been having trouble sleeping.”

Love runs a finger across my forehead. It tingles. She searches my sleep deprived eyes for a moment.

“I understand.” Love smiles back, her worry still woven in there. “How about you come sleep at my place tonight?”

That sounds like a great idea. How long has it been since we slept together? Far too long.

“Sounds like a plan.” I lean forward and place a gentle kiss onto her lips. She shares the same sentiment and we reluctantly part ways a moment later.

Love is still on my mind as I pack up last week’s display. Ah, how I yearn to entangle myself with her. I’m... beginning to fantasize while noting down the amount of unsold copies of the display we have left. I feel weird. Like, a little bothered, maybe. Not because fantasizing about your girlfriend in the open while at work is inappropriate but... I mean, it’s not professional, but that’s not the point. What I’m trying to say is... you’re there. You’re on my mind too— somehow.

In my deepest thoughts, you’re there... sandwiched between us. She loves you so much, you know that? You’re good for her too— you can be good for us.

The familiar jingle I’ve heard oh so many times takes me out of my thoughts. The world around me clears up and I eagerly look around.

You’re not here. I think I’m starting to hear things.

I finally shake you from my mind and store the boxes in storage.

~

Love prepared a delicious meal, as no surprise to anyone. We spent most of the evening talking. Mostly about useless things, like the next colour for the bathroom. Personally, I favour a blue tone. Love seems to want something black and white.

“Zebra print?” I say.

“No! That would actually look awful!” She laughs and almost spills her drink in the process.

“Hey, watch it! I like this shirt.”

“Can I tell you something?” She asks.

“Yeah, whatever you’d like.” I answer, sitting up to listen carefully.

She points to my chest and speaks. “I really don’t like that shirt.”

“I’m hurt.” I feign sadness and she sips her drink.

“—No no, I mean-“ Love gulps before continuing with a softer tone. “-maybe you should take it off?” She raises her eyebrows and I catch on.

“Ooh. Yeah- yeah, sure.” I smile widely and she sets down her drink. Love leans in and kisses me gently, something sweet still on her lips. I can feel my brain already melting as I lean forward as well.

rrRRING.

It’s her phone. Love seems reluctant in her next kiss. I pull her in more, my hands snake themselves around her back.

rrrRRRING.

Now she completely pulls away from me, pushing me aside as she grabs for her phone.

“I’m sorry— it might be Forty.” She pleas as she accepts the incoming call. Again with Forty, huh? He’s starting to seem like more trouble than he’s worth.

“Hey, Y/N.”

I perk up at the name, but I pretend my attention is elsewhere. I pick up our empty plates. I can’t hear what you’re saying, but I see that Love is listening intently.

As I make my way to the kitchen, Love speaks.

“But why? You just came back.”

I quickly and quietly set the plates down and walk back to the living room. I stand by the archway and continue to listen. It doesn’t sound good.

“You can’t. Y/N-“ She’s desperate and I can only imagine what you’re saying on the other end.

Love takes her phone away from her ear and looks at it. “Are you kidding me?” She mumbles before tossing it onto the floor.

“What happened?” I ask, walking into the room and standing by her side.

She reluctantly answers, a pained expression crossing her face. “Y/N. She’s leaving again.”

“Did she tell you why?” I ask quickly, sounding a little too interested.

“No, she didn’t tell me why.” Love leans forward so I can’t see her face, but I can tell in her voice that she’s holding back tears.

“Love,” I sit next to her and place my hand on her back. “It’s alright.”

“No, Will. It’s not alright.” She squeezes her stomach. “I worked so hard to make her comfortable. I’m gonna sound crazy but I thought I finally had her back.” Love quickly places her hand over her mouth in a worrying motion.

“Let me get you some water, okay?” I say, noticing her trembling state. She looks like she’s either going to be sick or start crying.

“I’m going to her apartment.” Love states before attempting to get up. I latch onto her arm and pull her back down onto the sofa.

I speak quickly, grabbing her half empty drink and standing up. “I’ll go. You look like you might throw up. How many drinks have you had?”

“I don’t know... ugh, fine.” She replies meekly and I leave for the kitchen.

Y/N, I thought you were better than this. This is like breaking up over a text, it’s feral. You even hung up on her when she wanted answers. What has you so scared?

Well... You’re not allowed to run from your problems anymore.

~

After bringing Love a glass of water and making sure she made it to her bed, I let her know I’d take care of it.

Love told me to talk you down from this. Apparently, you sounded very frantic in the call.

I’m parked in my car, across the street from where you’re packing up. I can see it in your lit window. You’re moving quickly.

I fix my cap on my head and continue to watch as you disappear from view.

Soon, your light gets turned off. My queue. I step out of the car and wait for you to exit the building.

When I see you open the door, step out with your luggage, and turn to lock up again, I jog across the street.

“Y/N-“

“AH!” You turn around quickly, knees glued together and almost causing you to topple down the steps. “Oh, gosh. You s-scared me.” You fumble with your keys and quickly turn to lock the door.

“Sorry, uhh... what’s the luggage for?” I hum casually.

“I-I’m going on a-a trip. A s-small one.” You feign a smile and scoot passed me. You’re still a liar. A horrible one too.

“Thats not what you told Love.” I say, following behind you.

You’re not saying anything anymore, just rolling your stupid luggage. It doesn’t even have a bell on it.

You’re being childish right now.

“Why would you lie?” I say.

You spin yourself around quickly. “Why would YOU lie?”

Oh.

Oooh. I get it.

We stare into each other’s eyes for a bit. I’m not moving, but you’re shaking like a leaf. You know, and I can tell you regret saying anything.

You turn around again to continue walking at your ridiculously fast pace but— I’m not sure what came over me... I grabbed your forearm and yanked you back. You let out a squeak and throw your luggage into my knee, knocking me off balance for a moment.

I hear an engine start and quickly spot two red lights. It’s a car. A black car, to be more exact.

Fucking perfect.

You try to bolt away, but I don’t let go and instead, pull you into me. I... I don’t know why I’m not letting go. I’m making this worse.

You’re already fully sobbing, it’s actually pretty loud, and you’re trying to hit me. I grab hold of your nose and cover your mouth, pulling you closer into my chest the more you struggled and kicked the air. Your dainty hands are trying to pry my arms away, but you’re growing weak. My focus, however... is on the car.

It pulls out of its parking spot and doesn’t waste any time driving off. Who the hell is that? Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

The lack of oxygen is finally getting to you. You’re letting out muffled screams now, further wasting whatever energy you have left.

I rest my head into the crook of your neck and you finally begin to settle down. I’m tense, angry. I’d like to think it isn’t your fault, but I have a feeling you know who was in that car.

I’m now realizing, as you start to go limp in my hold, I’ve probably made better choices in the past.

[killiansprincss]

Never Forget You ch.16

Season 6A Canon Divergence.

Emma is happy. Finally happy with her parents, son and boyfriend. But this happiness is taken away from her when the Evil Queen curses her and turns her into a toddler.

Heartbroken and angry, Killian and Henry run away to Neverland to wait for Emma to break her curse. But when she does break it  and comes looking for them 25 years later, she soon realises this Neverland is very different now it is no longer under Pans rule.

Will she be able to save Henry and Killian in time, or will this new ruler of Neverland keep them hostage forever?

Just a huge thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this fic, it means the world and I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

PSA this chapter is heavily anti Neal and anti Regina, so if that’s not your thing please read on and don’t give me hate 

AO3 Link

“Are you sure you’re okay honey?” Snow asks, concerned about her daughter's current state. She’s barely said anything the past day after hearing what the fairy told her about Hook.

“I’m fine. Mom. Really. I don’t know why everyone thinks something is wrong, when everything is just fine.” Emma exploded back. It was a lot harsher than she had intended, but she was so sick of her family constantly asking how she was when she just needed to be left alone with her thoughts.

Hook had slept with Cecelia.

And he had the audacity to lie about it.

He didn’t deny that he’d slept with her, but claimed he hadn’t slept with her since she was cursed. Bullshit.

She couldn’t trust him. He told them all that he knew how to defeat Cecelia, but was this a plan to double cross them and make sure he can stay on the Island forever?

“Emma, I know I keep asking, but are you sure Hook was lying about Cecelia?” Her mother asks again, “After everything you’ve been through, he is your True Love. I can’t imagine David ever doing something like that, I can feel that he wouldn’t.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “That’s the difference mom, Hook and I are not you and Dad.”

Snow nods. “You're right I’m sorry, bad analogy. But he loves you, you love him. I saw how it tortured him when you were cursed, he wouldn’t take no for an answer about bringing you back. I wish I could show you the look on his face when he realised there was no way of bringing you back.”

Emma wants it to be true that he didn’t sleep with her. More than anything, she wants to believe he is innocent, she wasn’t really listening to her superpower much so she can’t remember if it was going crazy or not.

“We should go get Henry, see what he knows about Cecelia and if he knows any way to stop her.” Emma changed the subject, she can’t think about Killian too much or she will go insane and she just wants to get Henry and escape Never fucking Land.

She knows her dad went to find Hook. Her mother tells her he went to get water and food, but she’s a terrible liar. Her father surprisingly loves Hook, and wants the best for them. She just needs Henry and then she can think about Killian again.

_____

The three Charmings make their way to Henry’s and it’s surprisingly quiet. Maybe he’s in his concentrating author mode Emma thinks.

“Henry? Are you here?” She calls out as she knocks on the door at the top of the stairs and gets no response.

She looks at her mom and brother worried and opens the latch into his treehouse. He’s not there. Henry isn’t there.

“Well he can’t have gone far. You said yourself he’s a smart kid,” Neal says as they look around trying to search for clues as to where he is.

Their mother nods in agreement. “Neals right, he’s a smart kid he wouldn’t run off this Island is as awful as it was for Killian. He could be with Killian, it’s the only place he would willingly go to if not us.”

“Wait, what's this?” Neal hands a note to his sister, it’s different from the paper filled with Henry’s author.

“To get your boy home

A secret you must loan

The darker the better

And he will be released from his chamber “

“A secret you must loan?” The three charmings read the riddle over and over until Emma comes to the dark realisation.

“She’s taken him to the Echo Caves.”

“The what?” Whatever the echo caves were, Neal did not like the sound of it.

The colour from Snow's already pale face quickly fades. “The Echo Caves. We faced it the last time we were here. You need to reveal your darkest secret, something you would never admit out loud, or to yourself even.”

Neal didn’t seem to quite understand the severity, or how dark the secret truly had to be until he stepped inside the Echo Caves that were all too familiar for his mother and sister. It was dark, and Neal felt like any bit of happiness left inside him was gone.

Snow did not take comfort in the fact that the last time she was here, she confessed to wanting another baby, and while that wish turned into having Neal, it happened to be where David admitted to having been poisoned by dreamshade and couldn’t leave the Island. It was not an experience that she wanted to repeat.

Emma sees Henry in a cage at the far end of the cave. No way to get there other than revealing a secret. Her heart is beating like crazy and she feels like she could throw up at any second. The last time she was here, Hook revealed to everyone that he could finally see a future with her, his first declaration of love. She'd been too stubborn at that point to admit she had feelings for him too at that point.

The Echo Caves was also where she told Neal she wished he were dead. Looking back, she thought she loved him, but she understands now that wasn’t love. If he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have left her in jail and wouldn’t have run off. Killian showed her what love was, they went to the ends of the earth for one another and nothing would stop them from being together. That was love. Or at least it was, once upon a time. She wished Killian were here to reveal a secret, she needed to know what was really true about Cecelia.

“So now does this work?” Neal asks, seeing his nephew trapped in a cage 100 feet in front of him.

“It’s simple really.” Snow takes a deep breath. “You reveal your innermost secret. Something that is painful to admit, something so dark you feel wrong for admitting it out loud. I’ll go first, I wish Emma had never broken her curse.”

“What?” Emma looks at her mother who has tears already rolling down her face.

“A part of me wishes you had never broken your curse. It’s not that I do not love the woman you became despite us not raising you, because I do love you-did love you back then. Despite all the hurt and heartbreak you experienced, despite that all you came out strong, you had walls that were so hard to break and I get that I know why you had those walls, but these past 25 years getting to raise you the way we always wanted was amazing. I was there when you got sick and fed you soup and kissed your grazed knees when you fell off your bike. I talked to your father about not telling you on your birthday. He told me it was selfish, and I agree that would be selfish, but I look at the woman you’ve become and what you’ve accomplished, the relationships you built because you didn't have all these walls . I’m sorry but you being cursed was the best thing that's happened to me. I got what I always wanted, raising 2 kids with my husband in a world without someone trying to kill us.”

The ground starts to rumble and rocks start to form part of the pathway leading to Henry.

Emma doesn’t say a thing.

“I’ll go next I guess.” Neal says stepping forward, he doesn’t really know how this works but he hopes his secret is big enough. “I love Thalia and I’m gonna marry her.”

“That’s not a secret little bro, you’ve been together for almost 10 years.” Emma says, rolling her eyes.

Neal looks at his sister, “I know. The secret part is that we were thinking of eloping and running away to the Enchanted Forest.”

“Excuse me.”

“I’m sorry what?”

Snow and Emma do not take well to this sudden revelation.

He turns around to look at them. “I have grown up on stories of you and dad meeting in the Enchanted Forest and going on crazy adventures to find one another because things kept getting in your way. I got As on all my History of the Enchanted Forest lessons because I was so interested in it, about the land and how different it is to Storybrooke. I’m a Charming and I feel like I have this legacy, everyone always talked to me at school about how cool it is to have Prince Charming and Snow White as my parents and I always felt like I could never live up to the two of you, no matter how many sword fighting lessons I took. I love you guys, but I also love Thalia and we talked about eloping and leaving Storybrooke to get away from her dad, and then we talked about getting a magic bean and going to the Enchanted Forest and having an adventure of our own for once. And now, now I know you continued to have those adventures after you were cursed, with Emma too, it only made me want it more. Now, I'm not so sure because I’m afraid of the future, I just don’t want to live a boring life.”

The ground shakes once again and the stone path that grew from his mother’s secret grows again, and almost leads to Henry. It’s just Emma left now.

Emma runs over to the path that's formed, but it doesn’t quite reach Henry. She considers jumping, but she knows the only way she will get to him is by revealing a dark secret.

“My secret.” Emma doesn’t want to reveal it, especially in front of Henry, but she has to. “My secret is that. I don’t regret being cursed, I quite enjoyed it.” Tears begin to form as she reveals her darkest secret. “Until a week ago I was Emma Nolan, raised in Storybrooke who was loved by her parents and had amazing friends. Waking up on my birthday, realising I also lived a life as an orphan and with a life filled with abandonment, that hurt. It made me wish I had never woken up. I thought I was happy before when I had found my family, but I was lonely. Of course I had Henry and my family but my parents were the same age as me and that was hard to process, especially when my mother turned out to be my roommate who I considered to be the first friend I had in a very long time.”

She doesn’t quite know who she’s telling this to, the echo caves she guesses, she’s not facing or looking at anyone in the eyes directly.

“I was missing friends, Regina was not my friend even though I thought for a long time that she was. I know she was your other mom Henry but she was a horrible person, she made me doubt my magic and my actions and seemed to blame me for all of her problems. The first friend I made after I broke the curse was Elsa, she understood me and I finally felt like I had someone I could talk to about my relationships and my powers. Then she left and I didn’t get to see her again. When I was cursed, I grew up surrounded by friends, Alex was my best friend-who I always was told was my friend since birth but now I know otherwise-she was there for me and we shared secrets and did everything a best friend should do, I missed her when either one of us was grounded and that girl stuck by me. The same with Phillip, the three of us were inseparable growing up at school; they were never afraid of my magic. I think what I'm trying to say is, being cursed gave me what I had longed for my entire life.”

For the third time the ground shakes and rumbles as the bridge extends once more and Emma is able to get to Henry in his cage.

“Mom!” Henry says as she reaches his cage with tears in both their eyes.

Emma tries to break open the cage, but its no use. Everyone has told a secret, except the one trapped.

“I need to tell a secret don't I?” Henry asks, fearing his confession.

Emma just nods, not wanting to cry anymore than  she already has.

He grabs his mother’s hands through the small gap the cage allows. “I don’t want to go home if we aren’t going home without Killian.”

“I think you need to say more than that kid.” Emma half laughs, not wanting to cry anymore than she has.

“I thought coming to Neverland would make me learn more about my dad, and I did learn a few things like where he lived. But the longer I stayed here, the more I realised he wasn’t ever my dad. I know he’s my biological dad and all, but he was my dad for like 2 weeks and then we were cursed and I lost all my memories of him. I wanted to know who my dad was so badly, what he was like and if I was like him but I’ve realised I don’t really care. Killian has been more of a father to me than Neal. He taught me sword fighting, with a real sword! He took me away to Neverland so I wouldn’t have to watch you grow up not knowing who I was, he stayed with me when the Island tried to drain me of my blood. And yeah he tried to keep me away from the Jolly, but it’s because he was scared and afraid, not because he stopped caring. He would look out for me, when I was shook up over a lost boy, Killian was there for me. I came to Neverland, thinking I’d find out more about my father, but I ended up finding a father in Killian, and I don’t know if he feels the same about me, but all I know is I’m not leaving here without him.”

Tears were flowing from Emma’s eyes, she had no idea Henry felt so strongly about Killian. Killian had always been wary with him, not trying to impose or replace Neal. But Henry never thought that, he saw Killian as a part of their family. The family they had a long time ago.

The bars that were keeping mother and son apart come away and Emma is able to hug her son.

“Henry. I didn’t know you felt so strongly about Killian.”

Henry gives his mother a coy smile, and his cheeks flash red. “I was embarrassed to say. I didn’t want you to think I was disrespecting my dad.”

Emma shakes her head. “Don’t ever be embarrassed about how you feel. And it’s like you said kid, he was your dad for a few weeks, Killian has clearly cared for you the way a father should.”

One day, when he’s ready, Emma will tell him why she never contacted Neal when she got out, even if she didn’t keep Henry. He deserved to know the truth; his dad was not the hero he died as.

[myqueenmarceline]

Siren Song Chapter 17: A Conversation

Summary: Bonnibel and Marceline talk about, well... Everything that just happened.

Warnings: some mentions of Hunson eating humans/being violent, but nothing graphic

Read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18990040/chapters/88870699

Read it from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18990040/chapters/45092713

Thank you to @nebula-gaster for beta reading, I appreciate it!

Marceline sighed heavily, and Bonnibel glanced over at her. She sat on her swing, but she was still mostly facing away from Bonnibel. A large chunk of her hair came down over her face, obscuring most of her expression.

“Shit, I’m sorry for all that. I don’t know what he was fucking thinking. I’ve told him—” Marceline sighed, hunching her shoulders. She was almost folded in on herself, totally the opposite of her usual graceful posture. “Well, whatever. I’m sure you’ve got some questions about everything. Do you, uh, wanna come over here and talk about it?”

Bonnibel kept staring at Marceline. Marceline patted the rock ledge near her swing a couple times, looking up at Bonnibel. One of her eyes was visible, and it glinted even in the low light of the cave.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear. I’m nothing like him.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Marceline. I’m just feeling dizzy. I may have a mild concussion.” Bonnibel stood up, resting one hand against the wall.

The ground swayed a little underneath her as she stepped forward, but the rough rock scraping against her hand was a good anchoring point. She walked a bit slower than usual. Marceline didn’t say anything. Bonnibel slowly and carefully made her way over the uneven floor of the cave, and finally crouched down, sitting cross-legged next to Marceline.

“Do you need medicine?” Marceline reached out, but Bonnibel put up a hand before Marceline could touch her face.

“No, I’ll be fine for now. But if I start throwing up or my sentences become incoherent, then take me to the nearest town with a hospital.”

“Okay.” Marceline pulled her hand back, nodding. Her frown looked out of place, as if it wasn’t an expression made for her face. Bonnibel had seen her be annoyed before, but she was much more used to Marceline’s sharp-toothed grin, and the sight didn’t put her at ease.

“Now.” Bonnibel rested her chin on her hands, gently supporting it. She kept her eyes on Marceline’s face. Eye contact was normally uncomfortable, but it also made people feel less able to lie. Bonnibel hoped that Marceline wasn’t a good liar. “Explain yourself?”

Marceline sighed, the ropes of the swing creaking slightly as she leaned back. “So, you remember how I told you to be careful of my dad? Well, this is why. He doesn’t just hurt humans, he… he eats them. I think it’s horrible, but he’s been doing it since before I was alive, and he isn’t going to change now. I tried my best to steer him away from your boat, but I guess he noticed it while we were out swimming. I wanted to go out for a bit to clear my head, but then I came back and saw him holding you and I was scared, okay? I thought he was going to… hurt you, and I didn’t want that to happen. So I said some stupid shit, and now you’re going have to go along with it.” Marceline became more emotional as she spoke, and Bonnibel noticed that she folded her arms, squeezing her forearms slightly. She looked down, but she didn’t seem to be lying, just upset.

The two of them sat silently for a few moments, stewing in the awkward situation. Finally, Bonnibel spoke up.

“You told him I was your mate. What exactly does that mean?” Bonnibel tried to ask the question neutrally, but she didn’t think she pulled it off. Her siren cultural anthropology studies were far from her mind.

Marceline’s cheeks coloured slightly, but she didn’t look away from Bonnibel. “It means the same thing you humans use it for with animals. A partner. The exact terms of the relationship vary by species, but most sirens mate semi-permanently. Some years might pass where they follow migrations or currents, but mates come back to each other. I—I’m really sorry, Bonnie. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but hurting someone’s mate is a big deal. It was the only way I could think of to keep you safe, and I couldn’t exactly ask ‘hey do you mind if we be in a pretend relationship’ with my dad hovering over you. Still, I’m sorry.”

As Marceline explained, Bonnibel felt her heart sink. Of course, it was all fake. What a foolish hope. She tried not to let her disappointment show.

“Hey, it’s alright. I understand why you did it.” Bonnibel reached one hand out, her palm up. “I typically try to avoid lying as much as possible, but it can be necessary sometimes. Thank you for protecting me.”

“Of course.” Marceline grabbed Bonnibel’s hand, and squeezed it. She looked at Bonnibel with such sincerity that it made her heart skip a beat. “I care about you a lot, Bonnie. I’d never let you get hurt, not when I can stop it.”

Bonnibel stayed silent for a moment, enjoying the feeling of Marceline’s cool fingers in hers. Marceline rubbed her thumb against the back of Bonnibel’s hand, and the gentle touch was nice. Marceline smiled slightly, and Bonnibel smiled back.

“Well, I guess we have to continue with the ruse for a while, then. What exactly does being a mate involve?” She asked, feeling more playful than before.

“Nothing that you don’t want it to.” Marceline spoke quickly, her eyes wide. “If we just sit close to each other and hold hands, it should be enough to convince my dad. He’s probably going to ask some questions about our relationship, but you can just say that it’s early, and I’m still teaching you about stuff. He’ll get it. He and my mom were way different species, and it took them a while to understand each other’s customs.”

“Have humans and mermaids mated before, then?” Bonnibel asked.

“I guess? It’s not like, a taboo or anything. It’s probably a bit weird, but I don’t exactly have a ton of mer-friends to ask.” Marceline laughed a bit awkwardly, and Bonnibel winced.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s fine, Bonnie. I know you’re just curious.” Marceline squeezed Bonnibel’s hand, then let go. She wiggled her tail in the water, and Bonnibel scooted back as Marceline splashed water over herself. Marceline took a deep breath, leaning back slightly. “Ah, that’s better.”

Bonnibel felt her face flush slightly as she watched the water run down Marceline’s torso, and over her shining tail. She gulped, trying to think of some way to continue the conversation and distract herself. “So, when it comes to your dad, what should I expect?”

“Well, since you’re my mate, my dad’s going to try and treat you well. It’s probably going to be weird for you. Just… try not to show too much open fear or disgust. I can handle most of the talking, if you stay quiet,” Marceline said. “I know you’re probably interested, but it’s better to not ask him about mer-stuff. He’ll get suspicious, and I don’t know if he found anything on your boat already.”

Bonnibel felt a pang of dread in her chest. “What would he do to my boat?”

“I don’t know. I doubt he sank it, there’d be tons of wreckage in the sea if he did. But he might have gone through your stuff.” Marceline put a bit more of a hum into her voice, and it made Bonnibel relax. “We can go check on it after, and I’ll help fix anything that’s messed up. If we disappear now, then my dad will get mad. I promise everything will be ok, but you need to wait a bit.”

Bonnibel sighed, feeling her eyelids get heavy. “Can you come here?”

“What’s up?” Marceline leaned in.

Bonnibel wrapped her arms around Marceline’s shoulders. “Thank you for saving my life.” She kissed Marceline’s cheek, then had to pull back and yawn. “Shit, I’m so tired.”

“It’s alright.” Marceline swung her body over from the swing, making a graceful twist as she pulled herself on to the rock ledge next to Bonnibel. She wrapped her arms around Bonnibel’s waist, and Bonnibel leaned her head against Marceline’s shoulder. “Get some rest. I’ll keep watch.”

“Thanks Marcy. You’re the best.” Bonnibel yawned again, pressing her face against Marceline’s cold neck. She closed her mouth, hoping she hadn’t just drooled on Marceline by accident.

“No problem, sweetheart.”

Marceline began humming, and the tune reminded Bonnibel of a lullaby. Bonnibel closed her eyes, feeling tiredness overtake her. Her limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, how was Marceline holding her so easily? For once, Bonnibel drifted off to sleep easily. There was no worrying about projects, only the blissful embrace of a deep sleep.

[gemma-lemma]

Cloudy Days - JJ Maybank x Male OC

1.5 – Stay out of the marsh

 When Parker woke the next morning, it was to a lady walking past the sofa he was crashing on. Once he realised that she didn’t just have awful taste concerning the colour of her clothing, but was actually wearing a cop’s uniform, he was suddenly wide awake and frantically scrambled to the end of the bed within 1.5 seconds, as far away from her as possible. Wide-eyed and heavy breathing he stared at her. Unimpressed she stared back, an eyebrow raised and a hand lazily on her hip.

“Do I have to be concerned about why this is your first reaction to seeing a cop?” She asked finally, voice husky, but pleasant. It reminded Parker of a home he’d never had. He shook his head slowly to get rid of the steadiness her persona seemed to emanate, and remembered that she was still a cop. He had met cops like that before, and they had been just as bad as all the others. Some even worse.

“Do I have to be concerned about you sneaking around my cousin’s house at eight in the morning?” He shot back after a quick glance towards the clock on the wall. She raised the corner of her mouth and formed her eyes into slits, as if she was saying ‘touché’.

“Your cousin’s house? That must mean you’re Big John’s nephew, am I right? Tamara’s boy.” She concluded and he nodded curtly, not really liking the idea of talking to a cop in general. Even less liking the idea of a cop knowing anything about his family. “My name is Sheriff Susan Peterkin. I need to talk to John B. Do you know where he is?”

Weighing how good of an idea it could possibly be telling her lies, Parker decided that she would go check in his room anyways and thus just nodded towards it. “He’s in his room. Fast asleep, I assume.”

She nodded and went on. Parker used the moment to go to the bathroom and get somewhat ready for the day. His shirt was completely sweaty, though, so he just shrugged it off and threw it in some corner. When he came back out, John B was already talking to Sheriff Peterkin.

“…of the things I heard, was that your Uncle Teddy, your guardian, hasn’t been in the state for three months.” Peterkin said, leaning on the wall to get a better look at a picture that hung there. John B quickly tried to clean up a little, and Parker decided to just stand back and watch the situation unfold.

“Yeah, that’s false.” He tried to save his ass, but she just lazily waved a hand at him.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know it’s true. I called the school.” She said without even looking at him. Parker studied her side profile, the way she talked and moved. She seemed jovial, and it unsettled him because it comforted him. The last jovial cop he had met had tried to get into his pants. Not very pleasant memories. He had almost gone to jail for decking him.

“They said you used to be a good student, but now you’re failing all your classes.” She said and walked over to the table, where she picked up the remainders of a joint and sniffed at them with a disgusted expression.

“No, no. It’s only one, and it’s history. The dude’s a dick. He’s out for me-“

“And I heard there was a fight on the beach yesterday.” Peterkin interrupted John B, clearly not caring about his excuses. “And a gun was involved.”

Now she looks like an angry mom, Parker thought, and immediately had to think about his own mom. He quickly pushed the memories down.

“Okay, alright. A gun? No.” John B lied, doing a miserable job at trying to convince her. He patted a hand on her shoulder and Parker had to stop and stare a moment just to admire his horrendous stupidity and balls of steel. Back at home, if you even so much as looked at a cop the wrong way, they would beat you up real good or worse. But Peterkin didn’t seem to mind as much as the cops in Jacksonville. In fact, all he got was a glare.

“Did I get in a dust-up? Yeah, but was there a gun? Pft. No. No way.” John B said.

“That’s okay. I know who it was. I’ll get to him.” Parker didn’t like the sound of that. JJ was a hothead and would most probably do something incredibly stupid. “All I’m worried about right now is making sure you’re in a safe home. And you.” She pointed a finger at Parker, who theatrically laid a hand on his chest and made a questioning expression. “I bet you’re not eighteen either. What can you tell me ‘bout your living situation?”

“Yeah, super safe. Super sound, sturdy, you know me.” John B scoffed, and Parker added: “I’m just on vacation, Lady. I’ll be gone soon one way or another.” He ignored the sting that truth gave him.

“Nah I don’t like the sound of that. I’m gonna keep an eye on you, too.” Peterkin said and eyed him sceptically.

John B quickly added: “And, Uncle T is comin’ back, so…”

“That what he told you? Well, if he’s really coming home, I think you should be allowed to stay.” Peterkin said, obviously not believing the Routledge boy. Parker couldn’t help but wonder why she would do that.

“Thank you.” John B said in a duh-tone.

“But if I stick my neck out for you, you have to help me. Tit for tat.” Peterkin said, and immediately summoned a picture of another Jacksonville PD detective in Parker’s head, who was as corrupt a cop as they could get. Hell, he probably sold and snorted more drugs alone than most of the dealers he busted together.

John B scratched his temple. “What does -what does tat mean?”

“Let me see, how can you help me? Oh, I know. So, a body was found in the marsh yesterday. Were you in the marsh yesterday?”

That piqued Parker’s interest, because it was not what he would have expected.

“Yeah, we were fishin’ for some drum.” John B said and cast a quick glance at Parker, who made a grimace that was supposed to tell his cousin to not spill a thing.

“Did you catch anything?” Peterkin asked.

“Nah, we were skunked.” John B said and quickly turned away before looking at her again. He wasn’t as bad a liar as Parker had feared.

“Strange. Fishing’s usually good after a storm. All sorts of things get stirred up.” Peterkin mumbled in a tone that said ‘You’re a good liar, but I know you’re talking shit, kid’. “You come across a wreck yesterday?”

John B feigned thinking for a second before denying. Peterkin held up a hand to mimic water-level.

“You’re skimming just above the surface, John B.” She sank her hand a little and drew circles with a finger. “Now, down here is foster care, juvie. Pretty big drop for a smart kid like you.” She raised her hand to eye level. “Up here is you and your little friends doing whatever you want. Outer Banks – or foster care on the mainland.”

John B sat down, Parker shifted. Peterkin was different from all the cops he had ever encountered, and he didn’t know what to make of it yet.

“You’re one inch above the surface, boy. If I was you, I’d start flappin’ my wings. Now, you sure, you didn’t come across a wreck yesterday?”

John B shook his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” Peterkin turned around to face Parker. “How about you? See anything unusual?”

Parker chuckled and shrugged. “I haven’t been here in years, how the hell would I know what’s unusual?” He gave her a look that made it clear she wouldn’t get a single word out of him. She gave him a look that said ‘Just you wait, I’m gonna figure you out soon enough’.

She looked back and forth between the two of them, and Parker imagined seeing a hint of worry in her dark eyes. “It’s better if you didn’t, you understand? I’m going to look the other way, as long as you stay out of the marsh.”

She started out the door, but turned around one last time, disgustedly eyeing the Château. “I got dogs living better than this, John B. You might wanna think about cleaning up. And you.” She pointed two fingers at Parker, mimicking watching him. “Remember, I’m gonna keep an eye on you, Cloud.”

And like that, she was gone. Parker couldn’t help but wonder how she still remembered his name. He definitely didn’t want to meet her again.

John B threw a can against the wall and put his head in his hands.

“She’s unusual.”, said Parker, but his cousin didn’t bother to look up towards him. He decided to walk outside and take a nap in one of the hammocks.

 Parker didn’t know how long he had slept, but the next thing he knew were soft fingers brushing the hair out of his face and a melodic voice telling him to wake up.

“Leave me alone.” He mumbled and tried to turn away, forgetting that he was in a hammock and falling right out of it. Kiara’s laugh rang loud and clear.

“Oh, Parker, I tried to do it softly.” She smiled and crouched down beside him while he groaningly sat back up. He was shirtless, but when he looked up at the darkhaired girl, she did not only hold a hand out towards him, but also a crumpled piece of fabric.

“You brought be a shirt?” He asked confused, but she just laughed.

“It was lying around, and you get burned so easily. You’re lucky the hammock’s in a shadowy spot. Your sunburn’s already kinda nasty.” She gave his red shoulders a quick glance before helping him up. To his surprise, the piece of fabric turned out to be a light blue long sleeved shirt, which he just draped on but left unbuttoned. It even kinda fit his black shorts. Jokingly, he posed and wiggled his eyebrows.

“How do I look?”

“Fantastic.” Kiara giggled, and they walked over to where the others were, sitting down on a small couch. On the small table in front of it was a pair of bongos.

“Do you know how to play the bongos?” Kiara purred, and Parker shook his head.

“I know how to play the guitar, though.”

Her eyes lit up in delight. “You know how to play the guitar? That’s awesome! Listen, you teach me how to play the guitar, and I teach you the bongos. Deal?”

Parker smiled. “Deal.”

Their bongo session didn’t last very long, though, because John B appeared and announced that he was calling it off. “Peterkin said, if I stay out of the marsh, she’ll help me with DCS.”

“And you believed her?” JJ asked incredulously from his spot in the sun.

“Yes, JJ, I believed her.”

“An actual cop, John B. You believed a cop.” JJ looked at Parker. “What are you even good for if you just let him believe the cops, man?”

Parker shrugged. “I can’t decide what he believes in or not. You know, I’ve made the experience that people usually only learn from their mistakes once they start turning around and biting them in the ass.”

“Great support, Parker, thanks.” John B said sardonically. Then he turned back to JJ. “All I gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a few days, and she’ll help me out. It doesn’t help that your ass was the one shooting a gun.”

“You know what I should have done? Just let Topper drown your ass.” JJ retorted and Parker leaned closer to Kiara while the two of them kept bickering.

“Is his name really Topper?” He whispered, waiting for her to tell him it was some kind of stupid nickname.

She nodded her head. “That’s his actual name.”

“God, that guy just keeps getting worse and worse. First, he has frosted tips, then his name is Topper. What’s next? Golf?” Parker shuddered and Kiara and Pope giggled.

“They always, always win.” JJ said desperately and boxed a buoy hanging from the roof.

“Look, it’s okay!” Kiara shouted and he turned around.

“No, it’s not! They don’t want us to go down into the marsh. That means there’s something valuable down there, and you know it.”

“He does kinda have a point.” Parker mumbled and JJ looked at him gratefully.

“See, even Parker agrees, and he’s like – a total chicken.”

“Fuck you too, Maybank.”

“Okay – just listen. I understand why you don’t wanna go.” He pointed at Pope. “You’re the golden boy, you got way too much to risk.” He looked at Kiara. “And you, I mean, you’re already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother?”

Parker rolled his eyes at JJ, who now turned back towards John B. “But you and me, man? We got nothing to lose, we really don’t. And from what I can tell, neither does Parker anymore.”

Parker leaned back in the cushions of the couch. “Asshole.”

“But am I wrong? I know it didn’t use to be that way to you.” He said the last part to John B again.

“I don’t want to talk about this. I just don’t wanna talk about it.” John B mumbled and pushed past JJ, away from the group.

“So that’s just it?” JJ called after him. “John B, listen to me, I have a plan.”

He walked after John B and talked to him about scuba gear and rich kids not going to foster care, until John B finally agreed.

Parker rolled his eyes and leaned back, already seeing how this whole thing was going to blow up in their faces.

[too-gay-for-marvel]

i want to come home pt.6

a/n: aight yall, this is the end, the grand finale, the end of the line. this was the start of this blog and yall stuck with me through it and i love yall so much. yall have really been amazing and make writing worth it. i hope in the future i can continue to write things yall enjoy. now lets finish this thing

a/n pt 2: i also wasnt gonna post this till thursday but i just remembered today is my bday so this is my gift to yall because i would die for yall. dont @ me for forgetting my bday

Word Count: 2738

Warnings: Mason being an adorable little asshole

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6)

I can do this, you think as you decide to take the stairs up to your 9th floor apartment. She’s just a kid.

My kid.

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does. You’ve co-parented Mason for five years. You literally grew her and pushed her out of your body. So why were you so nervous to have to parent her alone for a few days?

Because you’re not okay, your mind tells you, but you ignore it. You’re fine. Everything is fine.

You want to run away, but it’s fine.

And as you open the door to your apartment and see Mason drawing, you don’t want to run away anymore. You haven’t gotten to spend alone time with her since- well, it doesn’t matter. You missed hanging out with her and having some alone time.

So you make the best of it.

It’s not as bad as you thought it would be. She helps you make meals. Well, she bosses you around (like her mother, you think) while you do the work. You play, you watch movies, you have sleepovers. One night you even made a fort.

“What’s the password?” Mason questions you from her spot in the fort.

The very same fort you built and she kicked you out of.

“I love you,” you offer.

“No! Try again,” she giggles. “I love you, too,” she quickly whispers after only a moment’s hesitation. Much better.

“I have pizza,” you offer again. She sticks her head out just enough to catch you in your lie before hiding once again.

“Mommy is a better liar.”

Well, she’s got you there.

“Is it…” you look around, hoping to find some clue as to what the password could be. In truth, you think she’s just making it up as she goes. She spends enough time with Nat that it wouldn’t surprise you.

“Hurry hurry!”

“I need a hint,” you practically beg, really trying to ham it up. “Pretty please?” Mason may be just like Nat, but she has a few of your qualities.

One of which is that she’s a sucker.

“I’ll make a deal,” Mason says as she sticks her little hand out of the fort. “Pay the entrance fee.”

Where did she even learn this shit?

“Name your price.”

“10 pieces of chocolate,” she says while wiggling tiny, always sticky fingers.

“That’s too high, three,” you counter.

“Nine.”

“Two.”

“You’re going the wrong way!” Mason giggles and finally sticks her head out of the fort.

“I’ll give you five,” you tease as you lean forward and touch your forehead to hers, scrunching your nose when she laughs even harder. “Take it or leave it.”

“No deal!” She practically screams, and you flinch back from the noise.

The scream of metal twisting in ways it shouldn’t. The team in your ears, your own screams deafening as you-

“-Momma?”

Your eyes shoot open and you look into Mason’s green ones, and you’re home again. Not on the mission, not trapped, just home. Your daughter is right there, looking at you, and you just have to reach out and touch her.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. It’s not enough. You know it’s not enough.

“It’s okay,” she says softly before leaning forward and giving you a sticky kiss on the forehead. It’s gross. You love it.

You’re okay. You’re fine. You have to be fine.

Natasha is set to return on a Sunday. Mason had woken up early, far too early for anyone to wake up on a Sunday, but she wanted to get started on breakfast. We can’t let mommy come home to no breakfast, can we? Yes. Yes you can.

But you get up anyway and let your daughter boss you around about what breakfast should be made: eggs, toast, pancakes, waffles, bacon, oatmeal, coffee, tea, chocolate milk, the list goes on. It’s as if she thinks Nat has never had breakfast in her life. You both know Nat only ever just eats fruit.

Hell, Mason even put the leftover Thai food out.

She was definitely Nat’s child.

You’re desperately trying to listen to Mason talk about her dreams while also not getting distracted and burning the bacon when someone knocks at the door. Who would be knocking so early?

Nat had a key.

Before you can stop her, Mason runs to the door calling for Nat. You don’t think she’s old enough to understand your wife can get in if she wants. It’s a rush to move the bacon and turn the stove off so you can stop Mason from opening the door for a possible stranger.

“Uncle Nick!” Mason cries, and you can hear her giggling.

And you hear your heart stop.

Nick doesn’t come over unannounced.

You aren’t sure if you want to go greet him at the door. Nothing good comes from unannounced visits, especially not from Nick. Who does he think he is to show up when he knows Nat is away on a mission.

She’s on a mission. She’s fine. You’re fine.

“Don’t say it,” you whisper when you make it to the kitchen entry and see Nick holding Mason.

“Say what?” He asks, looking straight at you.

“Don’t,” you say even quieter, if it was even possible.

“Is mommy home?” Mason asks, and you give Nick a look. A look that says you’ll kill him if he tells your daughter that something happened to Nat.

Nothing happened to Nat. She’s fine. You’re fine.

“It’ll be a little longer, kid,” Nick says. “But she sent you a gift.”

He puts her down and hands her a small box of chocolates that he got from his pocket. Mason cheers and runs off to the kitchen to open the box. Her sweet tooth was too big for her to ask if they wanted a piece.

“Y/N-”

“I said don’t, Nick,” you say, more forceful now that Mason is slightly out of earshot.

“She’s fine,” Nick says. He reaches out to you but you step back. “It’s safer to extend the mission than to pull her out now.”

She’s fine. You’re fine. Everything is fine.

“You would tell me,” you shoot back. “Right?”

“I would tell you,” he confirms, and you nod and invite him to breakfast.

He wouldn’t lie. He couldn’t lie.

What was supposed to be a short, few day mission ends up going past two months. In that time you have to manage taking care of Mason, getting her to school, doing your work, training agents. You worry about Nat the whole time and feel on edge every time someone comes up to you at work.

Maybe that’s how Nat felt when you died. But you were fine.

Maybe throughout the time, when Mason can’t see, you break down. Maybe you cry in the shower because you’re scared and the water agitates your cybernetics that Tony says are flawless. And maybe you can’t sleep because you have nightmares, about dying, about Nat, about Mason.

But you’re okay. You’re fine.

And you’re absolutely fine when Mason says she doesn’t feel good and asks if she can go to work with you.

That’s fine, too.

You know she’s lying. She always bites her lip when she lies. But she’s your daughter; if she asked you to steal the moon, you would do it. So you help her pack a day bag and get her in the car.

When you look in the rear view mirror, you can see her practically bouncing in her seat. At least she’s happy.

Her purple Hawkeye backpack is bigger than she is when she puts it on. You have to fake a cough to hide the laughter as you reach out for her to hold your hand. She grabs it eagerly and you both walk into the Compound and head to your office.

It’s nothing fancy, just a small office. As a “higher up,” you at least get a semi-private office, but it still made you claustrophobic. Not that it mattered because you were fine. And you were even more fine when Mason sat at the little desk you had against a wall.

A desk just for her.

You know she’s going to cause trouble. You can feel it in your bones. She’s too quiet while you fill out paperwork, and every now and then you hear her giggle. But when you look over at her, she’s just colouring.

Why was she so suspicious?

“Hey boss,” you hear, and you look over to see Luke standing in the doorway. “Hey Little Boss,” he says soon after with a wink at Mason.

“Hi, Uncle Luke!” Mason calls and tries to wink back, but she used both eyes. Well. It’s the thought that counts.

“Need something?” You asked as you leaned back in your chair, trying not to groan as your skin stretched over the augmentations.

You were fine.

“Mind if I take Little Boss with me on a few errands?” He asks. The way Mason practically jumps up leads to more suspicion.

But you see her smile, and how can you tell her “no?”

“Please don’t teach my daughter bad things,” you plead, but you know it’s useless. She was raised around the Avengers, after all.

“I’ll keep him out of trouble,” Mason says with a serious look on her face. You gesture for her to come closer and give her a quick kiss on the head before shooing the both of them out of your office.

And once they’re gone, all hell breaks loose and everyone knows it’s your fault.

It starts when Tony stops by your office only half an hour after Mason and Luke ran off. You didn’t have to ask what happened when you see Tony with damp, pink hair.

“I’m sorry,” you say even though you want to laugh until you can’t breathe.

“She’s evil,” is all he says before walking back out. You can’t argue with him.

The next disaster happens 15 minutes later. You were trying to brew some more coffee to try and fight your nightmare-induced fatigue when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. You have to bite your cheek to keep from smiling.

“New friendship bracelets?” You ask as your eyes land on Bucky’s and Clint’s hands.

“Who gave her handcuffs?” Bucky asks as he holds his wrist up, forcing Clint’s hand to follow.

“Did you ask her?” You shoot back.

“She was too busy running away laughing,” Clint grumbles, but you can see the blush creep up his neck when Bucky’s hand grazes his own.

“You’re handcuffed to an assassin, Clint,” you say softly, “have him pick the lock.”

“We’re not done talking about this,” Clint says as he pulls Bucky away to take care of their problem. Maybe while Bucky picks the lock, they’ll take care of all that sexual tension between them.

It only gets worse as the morning goes on. Two of your agents come up to you with tears in their eyes and donuts in their hands. Apparently the donuts had been filled with mayonnaise.

Bruce comes to your office with his hands stuck to a hand sanitizer bottle. One that was now filled with clear glue instead of sanitizer.

Nick came to you with half an oreo in his hand. An oreo that smelled suspiciously of mint toothpaste.

Your personal favourite was the screams of agents that was soon followed by the overwhelming smell of Febreze. When you looked out your door, four empty, zip-tied Febreze cans were piled outside.

When Mason walked back into your office with a guiltless grin, you wanted to have her explain. You knew you should tell her that she can’t just prank everyone at work just because she wanted to.

But it made the day… interesting.

What harm was there in a few little pranks, right?

“Don’t tell me about it,” you say as you hand her the sandwich you had made for lunch. “I need to be able to claim plausible deniability.”

“What’s that?” Mason asks as she scrunches her nose and takes a bite of her sandwich.

“It means I can keep you out of trouble,” you tease before kissing her scrunched nose and eating your own sandwich.

You teased each other as you munched on your small lunch. Sometimes you would steal a chip from her pile, other times she would reach over and “steal” a bite of your sandwich. At one point she ended up tossing grapes at you and laughing when you couldn’t catch them.

It was just… mundane. You were okay.

“Busy?”

Both you and Mason turn to the door to see Maria standing there, arms crossed over her chest. As usual. She looks as professional as always and you can definitely see why Nat used to have a crush on her.

“Hi, Auntie M,” Mason says around a mouthful of sandwich.

“Hi, Little M,” Maria shoots back with a small smile.

“Whatcha need?” You ask as you set the last few bites of your sandwich down and wipe your hands off on a napkin. Normally you would use your pants, but Mason doesn’t need to learn that habit.

“Nat’s jet is landing soon,” Maria says. She keeps eye contact with you. It’s comforting.

“Mommy’s home?” Mason asks. She drops her sandwich when she stands up and rushes out the door as your heart races.

“Mason wait!” You call and run after her, but she’s got a good start.

You hate when she runs off.

“Mason stop!” You shout after skidding around a corner and seeing Mason still heading toward the hangar. She doesn’t answer you, and she definitely doesn’t stop.

How was she faster than you?

How was she in better shape than you??

You jumped off the stairs to the hangar to try and land in front of Mason, but the landing jars you too much and you groan and fall to your knees. Good as new, you think cynically to yourself, what a load of bullshit. Tony was going to get an earful later.

The jet had already landed and Steve walked out as you managed to push yourself back up to your feet. You’re almost desperate to see Nat, but you feel a million times better when you see Mason jump into your wife’s arms.

She’s okay. You’re okay.

You walk the rest of the way, stopping just far enough away that Nat can’t touch you. It makes you want to cry that you’re worried about touching your own wife. But you’ve hurt her, you died, you can’t just pretend like everything is fine.

Even though it is fine. You’re fine.

Instead you stand there and cross your arms defensively over your chest. At least Mason is happy, and Nat looks happy to be home. They’re both chatting and laughing and smiling and that’s all you want. And you wait patiently until Nat looks up and locks eyes with you.

And it’s like everything around you disappears. You get the same feeling you had when you first saw her, and your palms get sweaty and your mouth is dry. It’s like nothing ever happened, nothing had gone wrong, you were just the happy family you used to be.

But you see that pain in her eyes. There’s a desperation that you only recognise because you’ve seen it in the mirror. And you know you’re going to have to talk about it, and you’re going to have a lot of talks about it. But you can see that she knows it, too.

Maybe that’s a start. But that’s okay. That’s fine.

So you step forward and wrap your arms around the both of them. Nat doesn’t stiffen like she has since you came back. No, this time she melts into you and you swear you hear her whimper, almost inaudibly. So you squeeze them tighter because you won’t hurt them again.

You pull back just enough to look at her, and only then are you so bold. Leaning down enough to kiss her, sighing into the feeling that you had missed more than life itself. That feeling of home.

“Gross,” Mason teases, and you feel Nat smile against your lips before pulling back and giving Mason a kiss on the nose.

“Any after-mission-requests?” You ask, and Nat just looks at you for a moment with teary eyes that she blinks back.

“I want to go home.”

And you both smile.

“Home sounds good.”

[twink-between-worlds]

“you’re not a monster—just a human, and you made a few mistakes.”

hey y'all! part 2 of the Mama Sun series! This time it's Four if you missed the first part; here it is!

relationships: four & sun, mentioned vio & shadow

ao3 link; x

Four sighed softly, gently twirling his cigarette with his fingers. Smoking is a terrible habit, and Four knows the risks, but.. Whenever he thinks—no. Whenever Vio thinks—about his second adventure, about the fire temple, about Shadow, he can't help but get a bit of relief from it. “Four?”Someone questioned, causing Four to jump. When he turned—Sun was standing there. “Are you alright?”She frowned, walking over and sitting next to him. “I…am fine. Peachy.” Sun gave Four a gentle look, taking the cigarette from him and putting it out before grabbing his hands gently. “Four,”Her voice got softer. “Please be honest with me.” “Who says I'm not?”Four mumbled, looking at everything except her..not that he can see much. It's pretty late, so it's…naturally, dark. She laughed softly, watching him. “I see it in your eyes. You're hiding something…now, you don't have to say what it is, but I would like to know how I can help.” Four sighed, looking at the ground. She can’t help. “You can’t. I’m…I’m a monster.” …Vio? Do you really think that? Yes. Oh, Vio.. “What makes you think that?” “I’m a terrible person, Sun.”Four frowned. “I’m the worst.” “Oh—that’s not true.”She pouted slightly, brushing Four’s hair out of his face. “You’re not the worst. You could never be—if you were, Link would have been able to tell by now. And while he said you’re…a bit more strange than the others, he trusts you.” Four paused, processing it. Shit. Sky..noticed. Oh. Sky called us strange? Asshole. “I’m…strange? Did he elaborate?” “Well—no. Link doesn’t tend to elaborate on anything he says.” “Ah.” “But I’m sure he didn’t mean it as an insult.” “Mh..” “What makes you think about yourself this way?”Sun held his hands, looking at him with a gentle, patient, and kind gaze. Help us help you, vio.. “I’ve…done some regrettable things. I lie, I manipulate, I cheat, I steal…” “But you have good qualities too.”Sun countered, then paused. “Do you wanna hear a story?” “...okay?”Four blinked, confused. “When Link and I were younger, my dad hated him because he always slept in and got to classes late. So, he got back at him. He started guilt-tripping my dad by lying that the sleeping in was because of severe nightmares. It worked for a little while, too, before Groose found out and ratted him out.” “Oh..” Sky used to lie..? “So, Sky could be called a liar and manipulator too. But he isn’t a bad person for what he’s done in the past—and neither are you.” “But—But I’ve hurt people. Badly.”Four cried, violet eyes filling with tears. Come to think of it…do we really know what Vio’s done? Um…no. I think we’re about to find out. Vio’s gonna blow in three…two…one— “I burned a whole village of innocent people down, I-I tricked someone into trusting me for my own gain, I pretended to kill one of my own, I betrayed my kingdom—Sun, I’m a monster with a capital M.” A silence. The three colours had stopped talking, and Sun had too. She seems to be processing it. This is unbearable. Please say something. Yell at me. I don’t care. Please—anything. Shh..it’s okay. Four is sobbing now, under Vio’s influence. Vio can’t help it. Fae never told anyone about what fae did in the time where fae was working with Shadow. Vio was scared. “That’s…a lot to unpack.”Sun admitted, smiling. “But it’s alright. That doesn’t make you a monster. You redeemed yourself, yes?” Unable to cough up words, Four simply nodded. Because Vio did. At least, Vio hopes fae did. “A monster would be someone who doesn’t even attempt redemption.”Sun smiled. “Oh…” “Link hasn’t told you about Ghirahim, has he?” “Um…Warriors briefly mentioned him…but I don’t know who he is.” “Ghirahim was the self proclaimed Demon Lord. Sword spirit of Demise’s sword. He is a monster. Never seeked redemption, was prepared to sacrifice everything just to reach his goal.” “Did he..?” “He’s gone. Link made sure of it.” Four nodded, still quiet. “But…how are you so sure I’m not bad?” “Link’s told me a lot about all of you. You’re young, everyone makes mistakes when they’re young.” “Yeah but…mistakes aren’t usually treason.” “But it

was still a mistake that you fixed. Tell me, does anyone hold it against you?” “Nobody knows.” “Does anyone that knows hold it against you?”She corrected, sighing. “...no.” “Then stop holding it against yourself, alright? You always seem worse to yourself than you do to others.” “Really?” “Mhm.”Sun nodded, a gentle smile forming as she moved behind him, her hands gently threading through his hair. “You tricked someone into trusting you? Would it be okay to elaborate on that?” I’ve gone this far, might as well spill Shadow too. “I…betrayed the kingdom for a guy. His name was Shadow.”Four started gently, feeling her hands in his hair. She’s braiding it. “He wasn’t a bad person. He did everything because he believed he didn’t have a choice. The plan I had was simple—pretend to be his friend, break the dark mirror, get out, save Dot—but…I didn’t execute it well. And Shadow...trusted me. But he caught me trying to break the mirror and…the rest is history. He sacrificed his life for me, for the kingdom.” “Oh..you miss him, don’t you?” “Every day,”Four started softly, playing with his hands. “We’re trying to get him back.” “We?” Oops. “Um…myself and Dot.”Four smiled sheepishly. Nice save. Sun smiled, tying the braid off. It’s a really small braid, because Four’s hair isn’t that long, but it was long enough to make a braid—even if it’s short. “I don’t think it was tricking him.” “What?” “I think you’re trustworthy by nature. You can’t trick someone into trusting you, it comes naturally.”Sun hummed, taking a feather out of her pocket and putting it in Four’s hair. It’s from her loftwing, of course, but she still decided to put it in his braid before standing up and holding her hand out. “So! My verdict on you?” Four took her hand, standing up with a confused expression. With a gentle smile, she began walking inside with him. “My final verdict is this. You’re not a monster—just a human, and you made a few mistakes.”

[randomguywithwords]

As The Dust Settles: Chapter 22 (Geten X Dabi Slowburn)

Chapter 22: Lost Memories

AO3 Link

Previous Chapters: 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

–––––––––––

On Friday, Dabi found himself surrounded by four figures, recognising only one by his still-long silver hair like strands of moonlight, his hardened, battle-scarred face and calm expression. 

“This is a nice reunion. I can’t say I remember all of you – mostly because I don’t care to do so, but if Nine let you guys into his special club, you guys are likely decent.” Dabi smirked, eyeing each of them in turn. 

The rightmost one, an imposing wolf-man gave a growl. “Decent? I’ll show you decent.”

“Chimera,” Nine, to his left, spoke softly. To Dabi’s surprise, the subordinate huffed and stayed silent. Turning back to face Dabi, Nine said, “It has indeed been a while. You understand the logistics of this experiment?”

“Shigaraki put me to it, of course I do.” 

“Then let us proceed.” Nine stepped towards him, while his minions tensed up. 

“Nine, are you sure about this?” The skinny man directed a glare towards Dabi. Dabi didn’t need that to tell him they were suspicious of him. 

“I’ll be in safe hands. We will meet at the location I’ve given you all. Take care, friends.” Nine gave a wave of dismissal, and with some reluctance, the remaining three departed in silence. 

“Alright, let’s go.” Dabi pocketed his hands and began leaving the forest clearing, heading back towards Deika City. He heard Nine’s footsteps behind him. 

“Your demeanour has certainly shifted. What happened to the old Vengeance?”

“Who?”

“You, obviously.”

Dabi racked his brain, but the name didn’t ring a bell. “Well, I don’t call myself that horrible name now.”

“I’ve heard. Numerous cases of burnt corpses or piles of ashes, blue flames. They call you Dabi now. I thought it was peculiar, but it made sense when I could no longer contact your old mentor.” 

“Your squadmate.” Dabi corrected, the fact returning to his memories. As Nine’s voice entered his head, it hummed in resonance with old recollections where he had met the man in his teenagehood. He now recalled the one encounter, out of the few, where Dabi had first seen that calm, controlled countenance contort with rage, born from the ideology he stole. 

“It confused me initially. I wondered why a man you respected and perhaps even cared for would be subject to your flames. The possibilities ranged from hallucinogens to collateral damage. But no.” Nine murmured. “You killed Dabi intentionally, didn’t you?”

Dabi was silent for three seconds, the air cold as winter storms. “You were right,” Touya said. “He left me for dead, but I escaped, and then...yeah.”

Nine sighed. “How poetic. To die by his partner’s hands, as he let his squad die all those years ago. But that brings me to my other question.”

They were drawing near to civilization, weaving through pine trees and stepping over brooks. 

“Why take his name?” 

“Figure it out yourself,” Dabi said with a forceful tone of finality. “We’re almost reaching the place.” 

To his credit, Nine dropped the subject. Perhaps he did so because he needed what Shigaraki had to offer. Antagonising Dabi wouldn’t be smart.

They were reaching one of the tunnels that led to the Liberation Front’s assembly square, now empty. It was empty, likely only watched by Skeptic’s surveillance. But a few raised eyebrows is all it would draw; Skeptic was too cowardly to question Dabi’s tasks or Shigaraki’s plans. 

“Here?” Dabi heard disgust in Nine’s tone as the musty air rushed out of the opening doors. 

“Can’t let anyone see us. This is good.” Dabi shut the doors behind them. Tapping his earpiece, he said, “We’re good, Doc.”

“I’ve been waiting for a while now,” Ujiko huffed on the other end of the line. “Give me a second.”

“Have a safe trip, Nine, I’ll see you on Monday.” Dabi waved, concealing a grin. 

Nine gave a nod, before Ujiko’s teleportation took hold of his form, and Nine’s body disappeared within the swampy goo. 

Dabi leaned against the wall, feeling more memories return of the other Dabi. The first Dabi. Did I ever know his name? I don’t think he, nor Nine, ever told me. Special forces… all that secrecy. 

He felt his fire ignite on his arm out of instinct. He willed it to die, and instead, let the past engulf him. 

––––––––––

“What’s your name, kid?” 

“Touya.” I rubbed my hands out of instinct. What time is it? How long did I sleep?

“Quirk?”

“I can shoot fire.” 

“Was it you back there? The fire at that mall in the afternoon?” 

“No,” I lied. 

The stranger cocked his head. “I ain’t gonna report you to the police, kid. I’m not exactly on best terms with them myself.” 

“Are you…” The word on the tip of my tongue was like a matchstick to a fuse. 

“A villain?” He scoffed. “I just fixed you up and gave you a place to sleep for the night. Do I look like one?” 

I looked him up and down. Grey coat, green goggles on his forehead, a cigarette in his hand. “No,” I said. 

“Well, your perception needs some work.” He leaned back on the creaky folding chair. “Officially, I’m considered one, but unlike the thugs in alleys like this, I have standards. And I don’t take kids hostage, even if you’re Endeavour’s kid.” 

I backed away, my back slamming against the mouldy bricks. “How did you —“ 

“Please, a fire quirk, and recent sightings of Endeavour at the same mall that was set on fire? Don’t play dumb with me.” 

“That was his doing,” I argued. 

He took a puff and clucked his tongue. “Now you’re blaming it on your dad? Not very filial.” 

“I hate my dad.” The venom coursed through every word I spat out, which seemed to startle even the stranger.

“Hm, some spirit in you. Well, take that bravado and run off now, why don’t you?” 

“What?” 

He quirked his eyebrow. “You heard me, shoo.” 

“But…” My head drooped. “I’ve nowhere to go. I’m running away.”

“Well, you should have thought of a plan before setting fire to a mall, using that as an escape, and nearly choking to death in the flames you made.” Every word in that sentence made my skin shudder. 

I was desperate, I wanted to say, but desperation would only paint me as prey in the underbelly of society, my next stage of hell that the gods were benevolent enough to throw me into.  

“I can help you,” I decided to say, raising my head, mustering the drops of defiance in myself.

The man snorted. “How exactly does a 13 year old kid benefit me? I don’t do teams, boy.” 

“What if I beat you in a fight?” I clenched my fists, which still stung from the wounds. 

He scanned my form and the guise of confidence on my face. “Oh, so you were trained by Endeavour. I thought you were one of those prissy boys enjoying a rich life.”

My face drained of heat and colour. How did he know?

“Look, I’m not a smart guy, but I’m smarter than you. I can make my own assumptions, one of which is that I’d win you in a fight. No contest.”

“I…” My voice trailed off.

“How about this?” The man said, throwing his cigarette behind him. “You know hide and seek?” 

I frowned. “Yes. It’s a childish game.”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s one of the best strategies for its simplicity. Let’s play that game. Give me a minute, then go to the nearby park. It’s midnight, no one will see you. And if you get caught by a stray policeman, I’m not saving you again. Anyway, if you can find me, I’ll let you in. Got it?” 

I gulped, hoping this wasn’t dangerous for myself, but considering how I’d be unconscious for a couple of hours and he hadn’t done anything, I felt a sense of trust in this stranger. 

“Ok, tha – thank you. How long do I have?”

“60 seconds. Start counting.” With that, he left the alley. 

1...2...3

Ten seconds in, I wondered if he was simply leaving me as a twisted joke. How far could he run in a minute? What was his quirk anyway? 

Twenty seconds in, I contemplated scrounging this hideout for whatever I could find and running from him, but the guilt of betraying his hospitality stopped me. 

Thirty seconds in, in a moment of panic, I thought he was going to turn me in. What if people died in the fire? I would be held responsible, wouldn’t I? What if everything he said about himself being a villain was a lie?

The minute felt stretched into eternity with the unceasing torrent of worries flooding my mind. But after being frozen in one spot throughout, I heard myself say 60. Taking a deep breath, I got up and left the hideout, entering the cold night. 

––––––––––

Dabi heard the door groan open. He opened his eyes to see a familiar form, shrouded by a recognizable parka hood.

“You?” Dabi frowned. “What are you doing here?”

Geten’s form went rigid, like a burglar who had been caught by a flashlight. 

“I thought...there was a meeting,” She said. 

“And you chose to enter by this tunnel?” His tone was acidly amused. 

Geten didn’t reply for a couple of seconds. “Yes.” 

Dabi sighed. “For a lieutenant, you’re shit at lying. You were following me, weren’t you? Why would you enter an empty place where you know your entrance would be heard so goddamn clearly?” 

“You were in there for a while. I thought,” She caught herself, but relented. “I thought something happened to you. That man. He looked dangerous.”

Dabi’s breath was stuck in his throat. It was his turn to be stunned. “I was fine, alright. I’m just thinking. So, how much did you hear?” He folded his arms in annoyance, but he found it suddenly difficult to muster anger against her.

“Next to nothing, apart from your farewell. What are you doing when the Festival starts?” 

“I’ll be there during the Festival. Don’t worry.” Dabi figured Twice could simply generate a copy of him. Technically, it was the truth. 

“You’re a liar.” The emotion in her words took him aback, as if that really struck a painful chord in her. “You wouldn’t sound so reassuring. What’s going on?” 

Ugh. Shigaraki won’t be happy if I told her. 

“I’m not going to divulge this to anyone. I’ve no intention to, anyway,” She added.

“It’s just a side task, okay? You can handle the regiment just fine.”

Geten was quiet, then she spoke, “Can we continue this somewhere else?”

“Why?”

“Wouldn’t want to make the amateur mistake you did when speaking to that man.” She gestured around them. 

Ah. Dabi had an idea what she intended to say. “If you say so. Where’s a good place?” 

But Geten responded only by opening the door and motioned for him to follow. 

[punkscowardschampions]

Joe & Ronnie

Joe: [Enough time later that you might think you’ll not hear from him again, realistically like a day or two but given what you did it’d seem like longer/regret and dip ‘cos ya should but we know that ain’t it]

Joe: you spent Charlie’s modelling money yet

Ronnie: long gone baby like you

Ronnie: if you were after a cut shouldve taken it sooner

Joe: nah, it’s yours

Joe: his but sounds like he enjoyed himself, by her account

Joe: no need to ask what you spent it on

Ronnie: but you wanna hear my account yeah

Ronnie: thats what this is

Joe: do you think that’s what this is

Ronnie: youre not taking up space in my head mckenna

Joe: and not in your diary, as you pointed out up top

Joe: busy busy yeah

Ronnie: i werent asked to audition to be a doss student cunt 💔

Ronnie: & the one he brought back didnt fancy me enough to ask me to join in either

Ronnie: busy getting out their way

Joe: leave it a couple years you’ll be a mature student and they ask less questions

Joe: how rude

Joe: after you told him about your massive cock and everything? 💔

Ronnie: go ed and dig me up when youve graduated then

Ronnie: 3s a crowd when 2 of em are scousers & the others from fuck knows where didnt have you to translate or the horse for scale

Joe: after an invite? Sure thing, sis

Joe: not Kent then, gutted

Ronnie: less questions you said put your ? away gobshite

Ronnie: not england but i aint a skinhead who cares so hes as alive as dorothy ever leaves em

Joe: people love that though

Joe: black EDL members and asian conservatives, such a laugh for ‘em

Ronnie: too late to go back and put the boot in now he ll have been shown the door & it wasnt me getting a name or number

Joe: his loss all ‘round then, I get it

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: alright, so I need linking

Ronnie: you got cash or you selling yourself

Joe: I’ve got cash, just not the contact

Ronnie: hand it over ill pick up for you

Joe: you think i’m that green

Ronnie: what colour do you reckon you are

Joe: you’ve got no prejudice, apparently, so what’s it matter

Joe: [picture of some of the multi-coloured bruises you acquired]

Ronnie: he was a pussy & you want me to connect you to people who aint

Ronnie: youre an easy target

Joe: you wanna pocket my money yourself instead, I get it

Joe: you can have a % of the shit, alright

Joe: not asking you to do it for nothing

Ronnie: thats all theyd do when you show up with your baby face and habit

Ronnie: ill take your money & still have it pocketed cos i dont need student loans to score no shit are you asking me to do it for nothing

Joe: what you gonna give me to keep hold of ‘til you give me mine

Ronnie: add an arm to your collection what do i care

Joe: yeah, what do ya

Ronnie: you want a easy pick up get a schoolboy plug i dont know any

Ronnie: i care about money youre ready to waste

Joe: that’s part of the appeal

Joe: why get it in a safe, nearly legitimate way

Joe: half the fun, eh, alright, alright

Joe: do it then, I don’t know no fucker else I can ask yet, I’ve gambled on worse

Ronnie: i just wanna get it thats the fun

Ronnie: get into a fight with whoever the fuck you like whenever for a pissing contest

Joe: you wanna start one ‘fore I’ve given you the cash and you’ve given me mine?

Joe: that’s blatant bullshit

Ronnie: you wish

Ronnie: save your childish excitement for the phone call home like

Joe: nah, you’re full of shit that it’s not just as much about the company and authentic experience

Joe: there’s plenty dealers that are nowt but businessmen

Joe: nothing but a transaction and they’ll sell to a junkie and city banker as one in the same

Joe: don’t act like you don’t have a deathwish or what was the point of taking me there and showing me

Ronnie: where the fuck am i meeting buisinessmen or getting the cash to pay em

Ronnie: dont be fucking rem

Joe: everyone’s stupid enough to wanna get their dick sucked over cold hard cash every other deal, no matter how presentable or legit they play

Ronnie: ive got the links ive got

Joe: fine

Joe: where you wanna do this then

Ronnie: whats your problem

Ronnie: [but a location anyway]

Joe: what’s mine

Joe: thought we’d covered that in length or are you less convinced now

Ronnie: convinced youve got fuck all to cry about

Joe: obviously

Joe: definitely bother with you if that were true

Ronnie: you wanted a big sister im doing all the hand holding

Joe: I never did and I still don’t

Joe: but you carrying on with the pretence if it makes you feel better

Ronnie: i didnt come to you or ask for fuck all to make me better

Joe: yeah you’re blameless

Joe: all in my fucked up head and not yours

Joe: what’s it like being an 👼🏼

Ronnie: i already told you you aint in my head & you werent in my veins for long enough to get fucking soft about it

Joe: i’ll be there in [however long that’d take you]

Ronnie: boss

Joe: you sound like them, you know

Ronnie: i dunno who the fuck youre talking about

Joe: the rest of the fam, of course

Joe: glad to see that the level of chatting bollocks to make yourself feel better is genetic, s’not depressing at all

Ronnie: that still dont clear fuck all up for me except that youre a bigger cunt than i thought

Joe: you don’t think about me

Joe: and none of that shit happened, your memory loss and confusion extends to that, don’t worry

Ronnie: you like me but you still compare me to em every chance you get

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: yeah, fuck me

Joe: like you haven’t just

Joe: forget it, actually forget it

Ronnie: youre as full of shit as you reckon I am

Ronnie: forget that its been ages & youre speaking up now cause you want something

Joe: i haven’t been able to flick my brain onto anything else, never mind shut it down, I haven’t slept or eat or done anything to take me away from it, you

Joe: and it meant nothing to you

Joe: fuck you

Ronnie: gear not me

Ronnie: theres the authentic experience you were going on about

Joe: no

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: this is what I mean

Joe: you know as well as I do what it was

Joe: why are you fucking lying and saying I am

Ronnie: im a junkie all i do is lie & nothing else means anything to me

Ronnie: youre worse than green if you dont fucking know that

Joe: you’re lying that it meant nothing

Joe: not lying that it did

Joe: even if it made you fucking sick, that isn’t nothing and I don’t believe you

Ronnie: dont believe me i dont care who the fuck are you

Joe: your brother

Ronnie: youre nothing

Joe: yeah right

Ronnie: the dealer means more

Joe: already pointed out you’re that much of a cliche

Ronnie: what we can’t both be a cliche take it then

Joe: never heard that one

Ronnie: nows your chance to make a final comparison between me & whatever family member you hate or are turned on by the most

Joe: final chance, alright then, sound even more stupid

Ronnie: sound like more of a pussy that youre kicking off over this but not gonna fuck off

Joe: why would I?

Joe: i’m not pretending that it weren’t a thing

Ronnie: nah youre pretending it was

Ronnie: whoever the fuck ever told you youre special is the liar here like

Joe: your mate don’t count, you ain’t done that before either so fuck off with your jaded routine

Ronnie: hes my brother when & where it counts

Joe: there’s no blood and no reason not to go there, that’s where it counts

Ronnie: if i wanted to fuck you too your ma wouldnt stop me she means even less than you

Joe: yeah

Joe: you and your life aren’t totally fucked because of how much you care

Ronnie: you dont know shit about me or my life

Joe: you wish

Ronnie: you dont

Joe: or do you, actually

Joe: you shove it in everyone’s face, what do you reckon everyone thinks

Ronnie: youve seen a few scars & now youve seen into my soul yeah

Ronnie: shut the fuck up for all you know i lived a couple of doors down from you for your whole bullshit childhood

Joe: you look like that and reckon it doesn’t scream mommy issues? Fuck off, you aren’t that dumb

Ronnie: fuck you

Ronnie: everything you do is pure about her

Joe: not everything but I can admit she contributed

Ronnie: shes the 1st bitch to fuck me over but not the only is the difference between us

Ronnie: that unwanted bullshit was a pattern

Joe: you don’t know me either

Ronnie: i know you had a set of parents who kept hold of you however fucking west you were

Ronnie: no cunt was calling you racist shit or trying to touch you up

Joe: you’ve got a monopoly on fucked then, got it

Ronnie: like fuck have i but mine dont start & stop at mommy dearest how you think

Joe: of course it doesn’t

Joe: neither does mine

Ronnie: stop acting like youre an expert on how and why my head is wrecked and i wont have to kick yours in

Joe: you started it

Joe: but that’s good with me

Ronnie: get over yourself mckenna

Ronnie: you like what i start

Joe: i prefer the other night

Ronnie: yeah i like when youre getting punched in the face too

Joe: you can do the honours in a bit

Joe: fuck healing, yeah

Ronnie: what did your girlfriend say

Joe: oh, I got mugged and her dad’s gonna get her some pepper spray and a rape alarm 👍

Ronnie: hot

Ronnie: but she ll have dreamt you fell off the horse only got the single fantasy in her

Joe: that her dad’s so responsible and caring? would be her #2 if she had the range

Ronnie: if hes delivering that shit in person let me know so i can start something with him

Joe: oh god

Joe: that reminds me

Joe: She wants to invite Charlie over for like, a dinner party or something

Ronnie: if her daddy is there hes gonna need that rape alarm back off her to fend off mary

Joe: 😂

Joe: idk if she’s that oblivious and now wants Charlie to fuck her, or she thinks he’s my only mate 🙄

Ronnie: shes over you baby i scared her off

Joe: or she thought you was gonna ask for a line 😏

Joe: if that’s true I’ll owe you, again

Ronnie: ket hook up

Joe: you think she’ll let her love be in pain on your behalf?

Joe: not likely

Ronnie: not gonna ask politely

Joe: hot

Joe: I was gonna hit you up sooner

Joe: I tried to find you after

Ronnie: you didnt try hard

Joe: I only had one eye, by that point

Ronnie: im an attention whore with screaming mommy issues cant make it no easier to spot me in a crowd

Joe: in that crowd?

Joe: or will you be pissy if I call you dime a dozen

Ronnie: still got the accent as my own personal rape alarm

Joe: where’d you go then

Ronnie: youre a tourist theres no point telling you

Joe: if you left with that lad, no need to go over the details, got the picture

Ronnie: why the fuck would i leave with him

Joe: you mean you weren’t in his pants for his benefit

Joe: careful, getting bit close to honesty

Ronnie: i mean to go where i dont need a horse or an en suite

Ronnie: youre a hopeless romantic like

Joe: that’s a new complaint, I’ll tell my exes

Joe: deffo their fault after-all, buzzing

Ronnie: how many are there

Joe: get less slut-shaming off Soph, cheek

Joe: I dunno, I had to keep it moving because of all the secret mommy issues, you know

Joe: I’ll do a tally

Ronnie: its not already carved into your arm no wonder theyre pissy at you

Joe: if that worked for any of ‘em they could come back from the ex thing

Joe: 💔

Ronnie: try her initials whatever the fuck they are in between dinner party courses and win her back

Joe: you should come

Ronnie: id be made up if she pepper sprays me

Joe: it’d be the only way this won’t be the worst evening ever

Ronnie: loads of ways to take out your other eye ill pass you a spoon

Joe: give a go doing my A-Z carving with it too

Joe: 🤞 she invites her twink classmate and you can try for your threesome

Ronnie: she’ll get in there before us cause youll have distracted me with the state of your cackhanded 💘 carving

Joe: can’t say I’d be sorry

Ronnie: you catholics invented anal but i reckon its overrated

Joe: you’d probably feel different if that’s where your g-spot was but can’t say I disagree with that either, not that that’s anything too deep to have in common so we’re fine

Joe: and raised strictly un-catholic so the pope can’t have a go

Ronnie: nah no cunt would find it if it was there either

Joe: 💔 baby

Ronnie: you mean it

Joe: yeah

Joe: which bit, though

Ronnie: my invite to the shitshow

Joe: ‘course

Joe: if it’s shit, you’ll only have yourself to blame for not livening it up enough

Joe: and I will have to kill myself if I have to be there sincerely

Ronnie: he knows about you

Ronnie: might wanna kill yourself if he opens his mouth

Joe: oh

Joe: so I’m gonna have to act all nice and respectful, yeah

Ronnie: if you wanna make me sound full of shit

Joe: what did you say?

Ronnie: told him i shot you he werent best pleased about it but youre not his brother so fuck all he can do

Joe: sweet

Joe: still not gonna fuck him though

Ronnie: hed get your g spot for you 🍒

Joe: not if he’s worried about my innocence

Ronnie: hes worried about my head getting wrecked not yours only bitch who is

Joe: you’ll have to tell him what you told me

Joe: I ain’t in there

Ronnie: you fairies bring everything back to your obsession with your mothers course hes no fucking exception

Ronnie: & cos i stole my file when i was a kid he thinks i give a shit too you were part of the happy 🏡 picture he was getting in a flap about but i tore through that 🌈 optimism with the 💉

Ronnie: you can have lively

Joe: better he knows than goes on about it

Joe: it’s far from 🌈☀️ even if you were up for it

Ronnie: every soft lad but him knows its ⛈ if not outright 🌨

Joe: when I started looking, if you were like them, I weren’t even gonna bother to talk to you

Joe: just give her the info and let her do it herself

Joe: but I knew you weren’t

Ronnie: told you youd have liked me at 9

Joe: 😏 yeah yeah

Ronnie: shed have bailed before scrolling that far back even with the pure messy sketchy shit kept off for the sake of dorothys cv

Joe: idk,she bangs on about her own glory days as ‘precaution’ enough

Joe: probably dead proud

Ronnie: raincheck on dinner i gotta go slit my throat after hearing that like

Joe: yeah, it’s real fun

Joe: far as starters go though, you’re welcome

Ronnie: cos you owe me go ed & drag my corpse there dress it up like horse girl and send her that info so i dont make her proud yeah

Joe: gotcha

Joe: the fibres sending Soph down are an unfortunate side-affect or added bonus, depending how you feel

Ronnie: dressing like a dyke art teacher is shady to my mourners hed have loved having me on the team

Joe: sure she wants to be buried in her jodhpurs, like

Joe: not gay but kink-adjacent, he’ll be alright

Ronnie: inside the horse youll have to hollow it out for her

Joe: poor horse not ready to be made into glue but there we go

Ronnie: but when youre ready to follow me to the grave only need a plastic bag

Joe: follow you anywhere, or whatever sounds good in a song

Ronnie: not had a little brother like that before

Ronnie: never know the mime is behind you or not

Joe: he shy or you cut his tongue out altogether

Ronnie: saving that for you cos i know how you feel about 🍒 & theres fuck all else left

Ronnie: hed never get attention whore out or mommy issues w & m forget it

Joe: I can feel the slutshame

Joe: there hasn’t been hundreds, come on

Joe: you were being weird, I needed to get you talking, it worked

Ronnie: how many then

Joe: I guess 6 total, not counting anyone before like 15 because that isn’t real, maybe 7 but we might be pushing the term girlfriend there

Ronnie: 💘 how many songs

Joe: not destined for the bin? Fuck all

Joe: cliche points off the charts though

Ronnie: i know youve seen the busking vids hes still got posted up that im in i cant say shit

Joe: you’re good

Joe: even when you have to go Top40 for the tips

Joe: class thing about the cello, looks more pitiful ‘cos the case is massive, people try to fill it, like

Ronnie: soz im not killing myself fast enough for you

Ronnie: miss me with your schoolboy cliches 🖕

Joe: don’t worry, the songs were ‘insert name here’ jobs if they were anything

Joe: don’t wanna sound like I’m singing about a 75 year old bloke, do I

Ronnie: if itd been changed you wouldnt have found me shit at stalking as you are songwriting like

Joe: you’ve already got your own song anyway, don’t be greedy

Ronnie: ill keep you some 🐴 if youre not

Ronnie: 1st thing i tried if you do wanna follow after us

Joe: trip down memory lane we can both handle

Joe: ‘course

Ronnie: dont have any exes itll have to do

Joe: prefer the ket

Ronnie: write a song about it

Joe: [blatantly will in a pisstake way]

Ronnie: k gonna be dead easy to carve with the spoon can do it rattling

Joe: your faith in my abilities is appreciated

Ronnie: youre not fucking here youll have to

Joe: just got out the station hold on

Ronnie: fuck telling me to hold on you hurry up

Joe: if you shut up I can run

Ronnie: can you

Joe: fuck off i’m not that unfit 😂

Ronnie: nah dead fit far as homos and horse girls reckon

Joe: lucky me

Ronnie: youve had 7 bitches no cunts gonna feel sorry for you

Joe: all various shades of boring though

Ronnie: no shit

Joe: so you’re saying you ain’t gutted for me? 💔

Ronnie: your virginity sob story is like me in that crowd of cunts you couldnt find your way through

Joe: Christ, don’t remind me, first and last time I ever went near a virgin

Ronnie: theyre all older than you itd be pathetic well as boring

Joe: exactly

Joe: too much hassle having to worry about them, destroys any point of doing it

Ronnie: gotta put their kids in the cupboard as is

Joe: fortune in gaffa tape, like

Ronnie: still not 💔 mckenna going on about how flush you are since i met you

Joe: amazing how far you can stretch the loans when you steal Soph’s food and do fuck all that ain’t necessary

Joe: not like I actually dated any sugar mommies

Joe: should’ve, clearly but carefree 18-25s are easiest actually

Ronnie: gears necessary now youre gonna have to start stealing more than her pasta shapes

Joe: you’re my manager now, are you 😏

Joe: there’s shit I can do, music gigs, it’s fine

Ronnie: fine for your baby habit

Ronnie: it wont last

Joe: alright doom and gloom

Joe: not gonna learn how to cover my teeth yet

Ronnie: fuck off & fuck you

Joe: i’m here so come say it to my face

Ronnie: youre not better than me cos you can nod through a cello practice

Joe: where’d I say I was

Ronnie: when you said how fucking functional you are

Joe: I didn’t, I said I could get cash, that’s all

Ronnie: so can i its not the fucking point

Joe: and I didn’t say you couldn’t so what’s yours

Ronnie: youre not a fucking kid at the pool if youre gonna pussy out cos the waters too cold fucking do it

Joe: I’m in and you know that

Joe: so let me in

Ronnie: bullshit are you

Ronnie: youre proud of yourself for treading water

Joe: you’ve got the plug, I’ve got the cash, what is the problem with that

Joe: it’s an equalizer, if anything

Ronnie: we ll never be equal

Ronnie: you can cover your arm run off to class & pick up another boring girl whenever the fuck you like

Joe: what do you want me to do, seriously

Joe: say it

Ronnie: stop talking

Ronnie: fucks sake

Joe: [Show up hun]

Ronnie: [I love the idea that they have to wait around for ages for this dealer in awkward silence haha]

Joe: [the casual tension]

Ronnie: [god knows what she’s gonna use to ease the tension with a lil bit o self harm because god knows where they even are, I worry about you and all the infections you would get gal]

Joe: [the casual one-upmanship until you’re interrupted]

Ronnie: [we know she’s not paying him in cash and we know why she’s not please don’t get into another fight Joseph]

Joe: [got to let that one go as she was specifically like you’re not better than me, probably fuck off whilst that happens ‘cos not gonna stick about]

Ronnie: [take your heroin and calm down huns]

Joe: [hope you take enough to pass out ‘cos you’re not gonna be in any sort of mood now either of ya lol]

Ronnie: [we’ll do you both that favour]

[maybankiara]

FOLLOW ME UNTIL THE END

pairing: Sarah Cameron x Kiara Carrera

prompt: “All these people taking miles when you give them an inch, all these followers but who’s gonna follow me until the end?”- Drake, Emotionless (from my song prompt list)

summary: Sarah’s journey of self-love is the one kick-started, developed, and brought to its goal by Kiara’s love.

word count: 3.7k

additional: this is a combination of angst and fluff. it is also partly a character study, to bring canon!sarah to a better mental place before being with kiara.

masterlist

written for @ssjiara

read on archive of our own

There are times when Sarah wonders why she keeps giving up on people – why the idea of someone sticking with her through thick and thin doesn't excite her the way it should. Instead, it scares her.

  How could someone be so foolish to love someone like her?

  Sarah Cameron, the Kook princess of Figure Eight, is a liar and a cheater. She makes promises she doesn’t think back to and breaks people’s hearts as if they were made out of paper; as if they were repairable.

  This is what’s going through her head as she sits on a hammock in front of the Chateau, watching the sun fall. John B is supposed to come back soon, as his new job requires him to work late evenings. It coincidentally gives her enough time to think through what she’s about to do, to make sure it’s the right choice.

  She made a promise to Kiara to not hurt John B. She made a promise to be serious about him. In a way, more earnest than ever before, this is her doing exactly that.

  Her fingers twirl her hair and it’s freshly washed, smelling like her coconut shampoo. She looks nice, too, wearing jean shorts ripped at the bottom with a light, baby pink blouse that hides what it needs to and reveals everything else. A bandanna is around her head, the way she learnt to wear it from Kiara, and Sarah knows she put effort in.

  It was supposed to be date night. Instead, John B is going to find her at the Chateau, and hear all the reasons why they should call it quits.

  Sarah sighs, letting herself fall into the hammock. It stinks of weed, and the scent brings back the memory of her first time smoking it, on the boat with Kiara. It was the night that she made Kie the promise about John B, and it ended up being the only promise she keeps thinking back to. Mostly because she knows she can’t keep it if she’s lying to herself.

  Hopefully, Kiara will forgive her.

  That was also the first time Sarah admitted she has commitment issues. It was the first time she began thinking about it, about the cause, and how it manifests in her life – it was the night Sarah began to grow from a Kook princess to someone with self-respect.

  Because of Kiara. It’s all been because of Kiara.

  Sarah grits her teeth, closes her eyes and lets out a shaky breath, because if Kiara ends up hating her for breaking John B’s heart, then it will all be for nothing.

  No -- not for nothing, she reminds herself, fingers trailing along the hem of the shorts right above her belly button. It’s better if she tells John B how it is instead of doing what she’s done before.

  She knows better now.

  She knows better than to believe people won’t use her, or like her because she offers them something. What she had with John B was nice while it lasted, a summer kind of lovin’ that wasn't meant to last.

  John B liked her because she offered something new; excitement. Topper liked her because she gave him the prestige he needed. All her friends and boyfriends from before liked her because she could offer them something no one else could.

  All of them, but Kie.

  Kie, who accepted her back even after Sarah cut her off without explanation when her own feelings got too muddled to withstand.

  Kie, who was the bigger person and chose to move on.

  Kie, who knew what Sarah was like and still believed she could be better.

  So that’s what Sarah is doing now -- being the person she promised Kiara she would be. She cares about John B, she is serious about him, and that’s why he deserves to know that Sarah simply doesn’t believe anyone could ever truly love her -- or at least that she would let them do so.

  When John B comes to the Chateau, his surprised smile at the sight of her in his hammock nearly makes her cry, but she fights through her feelings.

  ‘Hey,’ he greets her, walking towards her.

  Sarah says it back. When he comes close and leans in for a kiss, she turns her cheek, and he sits down next to her, his smile faltering.

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  She takes him in; the sky behind him is painted colours of the rainbow, the sun having settled a while back. It’s dusk, now, and dusk is their time of the day. Now, John B’s face is in the very middle of these colours, the expression on his face the one of concern, for her. Is it her dad, is it Rafe, is it something else? Is she okay?

  Sarah doesn’t need to ask to know this is what’s going through his head. He loves her, she knows that, but in an almost childlike kind of way. He’s innocent – too kind and naive for someone like her. She loves him, too, but not in the right way.

  So when she tells him that things aren’t okay, a tear falls on her cheek.

  John B is more understanding than she expected him to be. He doesn’t hate her or hold anything against her, instead asks her if they can still be friends. ‘Just friends is enough,’ is what he says, and it’s at this point that tears begin streaming down Sarah’s face, even with a smile.

  He understands that she needs to take time for herself. She’s honest with him – she tells him of the commitment issues, of how she’s scared of feelings, and he accepts it without questioning. She doesn’t tell him that she needs time on her own to learn to love herself, because it’s cliche and cheesy and she just really doesn’t want to say it. She needs to figure out who she is.

  And another thing that she doesn’t tell him is that she’s falling in love with one of his best friends, because she can’t.

  When they break the news to the Pogues it’s late afternoon of the next day. Sarah arrives to the Chateau a little later than usual, her hands fiddling with one another, shoulders slouched, and a shaky smile on her lips.

  John B meets her halfway to the HMS Pogue, pulling her into a tight hug. Sarah melts into it – she didn’t know what she’d be getting herself into, coming here. John B could’ve changed his mind, or he could’ve already told the Pogues and maybe they’d change his mind.

  He pulls back, but his hands remain on her shoulders. ‘You doing okay?’

  Sarah nods. She chuckles, a little, at the absurdity of him asking her that when she’s the one who broke up with him.

  The Pogues must’ve noticed the lack of any proper PDA because when Sarah finally gets on the boat, they’re quiet.

  Kiara is sprawled across the front of the boat, wearing only a big T-shirt and a turquoise bikini underneath. She looks at Sarah with a slight frown between her brows, but doesn’t say anything.

  John B sits down next to her. He pretends not to notice the odd atmosphere and instructs JJ to start the boat, get them out into the marsh. All he gives Sarah is a small, encouraging smile.

  ‘Sarah and I broke up last night,’ he announces. ‘It was a mutual decision.’

  There’s a moment of silence, where everyone takes in John B’s words, and Sarah’s heart drops in realisation that maybe they wouldn’t want to be friends with her.

  But JJ doesn’t miss a beat. ‘Wow, you guys lasted long. Pope, pay up.’

  ‘Fuck you, JJ,’ Pope responds, but takes out a few bills with a sigh. ‘Couldn’t you have been together at least until the end of summer?’

  ‘You guys bet on the length of our relationship?’ Sarah asks in disbelief, before bursting into laughter.

  It’s not long until things are back to normal, with an occasional jab at the breakup, but Sarah realises she’s not John B’s girlfriend with the Pogues – she is one of them now.

  Sarah Cameron, a Pogue.

  By the time they arrive back to the Chateau, all of them a little drunk and JJ a little high, Kiara is the only one who hasn’t really spoken to Sarah the whole evening.

  She doesn’t want to cause a scene by asking her flat-out what the whole thing is about, so she waits until the boys leave to go get some more alcohol, and it’s just the two of them.

  Kiara is lying in the hammock, the same one where the breakup happened the night before. Her elbows and feet are the only things peeking out, and Sarah braces herself for the impact as she plops into the hammock, opposite of Kiara.

  The girl isn’t looking at her. Sarah’s heart breaks a little.

  ‘My intention was never to hurt him, Kiara,’ she begins. ‘I want you to know that I couldn’t stop thinking about promising you I wouldn’t. I just couldn’t– I couldn’t pretend I like being with him.’

  It’s not that Kiara scoffs, or pointedly looks away, that makes Sarah’s heart sink to her stomach – it’s the fact that she doesn’t acknowledge her words, at all.

  She looks beautiful. The golden hour makes her hair the colour of amber, her skin almost dark gold, and even the subtle scowl on her face doesn’t take away from the adoration Sarah holds for her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Sarah admits. Kiara doesn’t flinch, so Sarah stands up from the hammock, facing the girl one last time. She takes a deep breath. ‘I can’t love someone like John B before I love myself. Before I do that, I have to learn how to accept that people can like me, instead of pushing them away the moment I start getting scared.’

  She sees Kiara swallow the gulp in her throat, and if she isn’t wrong, there might even be tears forming in her eyes – but she remains quiet, motionless. Her hair is down, framing her face as she lies, and Sarah takes in the way she looks simply ethereal.

  This is goodbye, she thinks, and she can’t convince herself otherwise.

  Her feet take her away before anything else spills over her lips. She isn’t there when the boys come back with alcohol, and she isn’t there for the next few weeks, either. John B calls, every now and then, to check up on her.

  He doesn’t understand. Then again, none of them do.

  Learning to love herself is a process that Sarah realises takes more time than she thought it would. It’s all about understanding what made her the way she is – her mother leaving, mostly, and her friends using her because she’d buy them pretty birthday gifts and because she wouldn’t have a problem covering a restaurant bill. The attention she lacked from her mother made her adore anyone who gave it to her, never questioning the purity of their intentions.

  Boys, she realised, took after her father. Overprotective and overly caring, thinking of her as their little princess. Even John B – he saw her as something that needed to be protected, cherished, looked after. And Sarah ate it up, because that’s the love she’s learnt to give.

  Learning to love herself is accepting that she isn’t who she’s spent sixteen years of her life trying to become. She isn’t a Kook princess, she isn’t her daddy’s little girl, and she isn’t someone who moulds their personality to whichever boy she’s dating at the moment.

  She is Sarah Cameron, and she pushed away the only person who knew her before she even knew herself.

  She is Sarah Cameron and she is a coward.

  Instead of calling Kiara, or asking John B how she’s doing, or making any effort whatsoever to contact the girl she’s in love with, she writes her a letter. It’s sappy and it’s full of things like you were the only person who could see right through me and I was scared of accepting who I was and I didn’t understand that the reason why I could be myself around you was because you never wanted anything from me except to be my friend and when I pushed you away it was because I was scared I was going to become the person you saw me be and I keep letting you down but if you gave me one more chance, Kiara Carrera, I would love you until the end of the world.

  It’s a piece of paper that ended up in the trash can, before she took it out of her house and burnt it in her backyard, angry tears streaming down her face. These weren’t her words – these were the words of people who have lived and loved before her, and they don’t encapsulate the feelings inside Sarah’s chest.

  She watches her words burn to ashes, and then gets rid of the evidence. It’s dusk again – Sarah feels as if it keeps being dusk during some of the recent most important moments of her life.

  This is the one where Sarah decides to grow up, and get over Kiara Carrera.

  It’s also a few moments later that her phone chimes with a text from the aforementioned Kiara Carrera, asking if she can come over.

  Of course, Sarah replies, before she has time to think twice.

  With ashes of her love letter leaving grey marks over her legs, Sarah welcomes Kiara into the Cameron house with a lot less grace than she would’ve hoped.

  ‘Hi,’ greets Kiara.

  ‘Hi.’

  Sarah’s eyes glance up and down; Kiara’s wearing her usual attire – shorts and a tank top, with a bandanna around her head. Her hair is loose, just like it was when they spoke last, and not much is different.

  Aside form the fact that her face is unreadable to Sarah, for the first time in what feels like forever.

  The blonde steps to the side. Kiara walks in and the doors are closed behind her. They walk to Sarah’s room in silence and once they’re inside, within four walls, the weight of the situation seems to fall upon Sarah’s shoulder.

  She sits down on the bed. Kiara follows, even is she sits on the opposite side of the bed, not meeting her eyes.

  Sarah’s fingers trail along the pattern on the covers. It’s an intricate pattern, delicate in the way it’s woven – expensive, too, and she suddenly feels self aware because of this. She knows Kiara dislikes excessive use of money that does not have a valid reason.

  She wants to apologise, but she doesn’t. She just puts her hands in her lap, uncomfortably.

  When Kiara meets her eyes at last, Sarah still can’t read her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I shouldn’t have judged you for breaking up with John B.’

  A shaky smile graces Sarah’s lips. ‘It’s okay. I understand it.’

  Kiara shakes her head, sighing, and leans against the headboard. ‘The breakup did him good. He understood it more than any of us did. I guess I understood why you did it, too, but I refused to.’

  Sarah’s fingers go back to tracing the pattern. Her thoughts are soundless, more of feelings than words, and she can’t piece them together.

  Kiara shuffles on the bed until she’s resting her back against the headboard, legs in a crossed position. Her lips are barely parted and eyes intense, and Sarah has to look away before she the intensity gets to her, too.

  ‘I don’t blame you for doing what you did, Sarah.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  Kiara shakes her head again, with a sheepish smile, this time. ‘I was bitter because I thought you hadn’t changed. But I was wrong. You’re not the same person who ditched me.’

  ‘I didn’t ditch you,’ Sarah says, quietly. ‘I was scared because you accepted me.’

  ‘Are you okay with that now? With me accepting you?’

  Sarah hesitates, thinks it over. Kiara’s eyes are open and vulnerable and perhaps Sarah can’t read them because she’s showing everything at once – laying all her cards on the table.

  When she nods, it’s honest. ‘You’re the only person I’ve got, Kie.’

  She doesn’t say friend, or girl friend, or anything like that. Sarah says person and she means person, in all and every meaning of the word.

  Kiara smiles. ‘I guess we can work with that.’

  And work with that, they do. Kiara brings her back to the Pogues and the dynamic is different, but better. If Sarah thought she was a part of the group before, she was wrong. Now is when they fully accept her, all of them, as Sarah Cameron, and not Sarah Cameron of the Kooks. She ditches the persona she spent years building and spending times with the Pogues helps her rediscover herself.

  She learns to love herself because love is the only thing the Pogues have for one another. They never pressure her into being anything other that who she is, and it’s the exhilarating freedom that Sarah loses herself in.

  Being herself is freeing. It also comes with realising that her love for Kiara Carrera is a little different than for the rest of the group.

  Perhaps she was right, all those months ago, when she wrote that letter – Kiara is the one who stuck with her over and over again, gave her chances, believed in her when even she herself couldn’t.

  It’s only a matter of time until loving Kiara becomes too overwhelming to remain a secret. Coincidentally, the moment comes during a Boneyard kegger, when Kiara is dancing with some of the Tourons and girls from the Cut. Her dress is flowery and short, floating around her, flowers in her hair. Her smile is big and bright and she looks almost like a nymph.

  Beauty is a person, she realises, and Sarah’s heart belongs to her.

  She joins the dance and Kiara pulls her in, taking her hands, dancing with her as if it’s the end of the world. The fire in Sarah’s chest is burning, the moment is never-ending, and it’s only the two of them.

  Nothing else exists. Nobody else matters.

  Sarah loves Kiara because Kiara loves who Sarah is even when she’s pretending to be someone else.

  When Sarah takes hold of Kiara’s hand, the buzz of electricity runs through her entire body, and she drags the hippie out of the crowd. All they hear is the crashing of the waves and distant music and chatter, and it’s beautiful.

  Sarah is still holding her hand when she hugs her, instinctively, and revels in the feeling of their bodies pressed together. She wonders if Kiara can feel the electricity, too.

  ‘Thank you,’ she says, ‘for everything.’

  It’s a thank you, but it’s I love you and I wouldn’t be here without you and you are my best friend and every other feeling Sarah couldn’t put into words.

  Kiara laughs, and it’s so wholesome and pure that Sarah’s knees buckle. When the girls pull back, their hands are still wrapped around each other’s waist, and the space between them could all too easily be closed with their lips.

  Sarah blinks the thought away. Kiara is still smiling.

  ‘C’mon, Sarah. That’s what friends are for.’

  ‘Friends,’ Sarah echoes.

  She doesn’t mean it to sound bitter, but the smile falters in the corners of Kiara’s lips. ‘Are we not friends?’

  ‘I was just – forget it.’

  Sarah drops her hands to Kiara’s hips and pushes her away, carefully but firmly. She turns her back to the girl and walks over to the ocean, dipping her bare feet in the cold water, arms crossed on her chest.

  She hears Kiara join her, feels the girl’s warmth next to her, but doesn’t say anything. If there are tears on her cheeks, the alcohol doesn’t let her notice.

  She sighs, and the breath she lets out is shakier than she would’ve wanted it to be. ‘You’re the only person I can’t get away from. Every time I get scared, every time I push you away, you come back and show me that I can do better than that. And Kie, you’re the one who deserves better, and I can’t help—’

  ‘If you’re trying to bail again, Sarah, I’m going to actually kill you.’

  Sarah smiles, but it’s a sad smile. Kiara isn’t smiling, so Sarah shakes her head. ‘I’m not trying to bail on you. I want nothing more than to remain friends with you.’

  ‘I thought you said you’re starting to learn how to love yourself,’ Kiara points out. ‘To know your self-worth. If I wanted to stop being friends with you, I would’ve done that a long time ago. So tell me – do you really believe you’re not good enough to be friends with me?’

  This – this is precisely why Sarah is in love with Kiara. Nobody could ever understand her the way Kiara does and it’s something she took for granted too many times. This time, she won’t make the same mistake.

  ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘Do you think you’re going to?’

  ‘No.’ Sarah doesn’t even need to think about this one. It’s a promise she made to herself and it’s the one she’ll keep, whatever it takes. ‘I know I need to treat myself better but I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t showed me.’

  If you hadn’t showed me what it feels like to be loved; to be worthy of being loved.

  Kiara’s eyes meet Sarah’s and just like every other time, the understanding is wordless but complete. When Kiara’s eyes glance to Sarah’s lips, the world slows down. ‘Someone had to.’

  She doesn’t know who closes the distance, but Kiara’s lips are against hers and it feels like everything she’s ever dreamt of.

  Kiara Carrera isn’t foolish to love someone like her. For the first time in Sarah’s life, someone sticks with her through thick and thin, and doesn’t ask for anything in return but love.

  And love is all the she could ever hope to give her.