#I'll turn around to wash dishes or something and forget I have something cooking until I smell the smoke

[fractiflos]

Headcanons Banjo pls

I have so many about him!

He's a huge fan of western things. I like to think that he and All Might would bond over their love of western style stuff. Although, it's mainly the cowboy and Texas stuff that Banjo likes while All Might likes the western superhero comics.

In fact, his love of cowboy style is why he has that bandolier on the inside of his jacket despite not having a gun or anything to shoot with. He just thought it looked cool. The open jacket is because he overheats easily, so he and En often eat ice cream together. Even in the winter.

He got teased as a kid once they realized his last name sounded like the instrument, so out of spite he learned to play it and realized he also likes country music.

Actually, he likes any song that has a good beat, so his playlist is a mix of genres and artists. But he's not one to really listen to the lyrics.

He sucks at cooking. He's good at other household work but he gets distracted and forgets that he's cooking something so it burns. He lives off of microwave meals and takeout.

After finding out the "go" in Daigoro is spelled with the kanji for "enlightenment" I like to think he does meditation as a way to calm down.

He's pans. For no other reason than I thought the flag colors fit him.

I have a lot of theories as to why he shaved his head but one I think you'll like is that he had an odd hair color and the first few heroes had to look "normal" for the public to accept them. (Imagine if it was the same color as blackwhip so he had a similar hair color to Deku.) I also like to think that whatever the original reason was, he'd still shave his head if he was a girl. I'd draw that if I could.

He's skilled at tying and untying knots.

He's good at math, but terrible at literature because he was more straightforward and didn't get why people don't just outright say what they mean.

Laughs at horror movies and pretty much any moment where they don't want you to laugh because he thinks a lot of it is just ridiculously overdramatic or unrealistic.

He always wanted a big dog, but he didn't have the room for one and his job as a hero kept him too busy.

If he had to do a job other than hero, I definitely think it would be something that requires a lot of moving around. I can't think of a specific one, but I know he would hate having a job where he does nothing but sit at a computer all day.

Basically, I headcanon that he likes nature in general. Not to the point he'd live in the woods for 18 years, but he likes it and enjoys going hiking.

He was that one kid who was kind of loud in class, but respected the teachers. As he grew older, I can see him patiently listening to the stories of old people or carefully listening as an old lady teaches him to knit.

He made it his mission to make sure that no one felt left out and tried to include everyone in things, something that he's been doing since childhood.

He loves bad puns. He's got a dad joke sense of humor.

Not superstitious or one to believe in conspiracy theories, but he'll listen to the rants anyway.

He can be kind of forgetful about little things. He always puts in the effort to remember appointments and birthdays, but he constantly forgets to charge his phone and where he put the remote.

He'll eat or drink pretty much anything. The opposite of whatever a picky eater is.

That's all for now since this is getting long. Thank you for giving me a chance to share my Banjo headcanons.

[helloescapist]

Hello. I read your Shinobu in a relationship post and honestly I'm speechless at how in depth it is. Wow! Can I ask for more? I need more. Like perhaps more info about them quarreling? The gifts. Or or they are newlyweds and reader got badly hurt and forgets about her. Will her live be stronger and how will she deal with it? Thank you so much!

SO, because of how much I love the “reader got badly hurt and forgets her”. It just pierces me through the heart, and it, it just deserves its own individual attention. I love it. I really do. So, this will be a two-part answer. With the second part to follow later (I'll come back and link it when it's up as well as put it on the masterlist as well!).

Quarrelling and Gifting Headcanons | Shinobu Kocho

Word Count: 2270

Setting: Shinobu Kocho x gn!reader

Content Warnings: SFW, we beat around the bush.

[image is not mine]

It’s so important to note that, Shinobu really will avoid unnecessary conflict in her relationships. It’s not that she’s afraid of a fight, or even the risk of “losing”. Because to be honest, she doesn’t think she will lose the argument. Rather, she really just feels that they can be completely avoided. Which is… ironic as conflict tends to find her.

Let’s be honest, as adorable and sassy as her remarks often are, they have the tendency to rub others the wrong way.

When it comes to disputes of any kind, Kocho has a strong preference for facts, rather than allow her emotions to run the discussion. She knows nothing good will come of doing that. In an attempt to keep the smile on her face, and further suppress her frustration (This woman has stomach ulcers I swear), she will focus her attention on the overall picture. How this argument will play into the enormity of your relationship. Is it something small such as mistakenly utilized a decorative towel?

The practically of her brain screams in agony. It. Is. A. Towel. Therefore, her usage is appropriate, but for all that her logic wails at her, you really do adore those cutesy towels. She’s sorry. She’ll take better care next time to leave your prized serviette be. A dispute over who’s turn it is to tend to the dishes? No, she distinctly remembers that she did in fact scrub them the night before, but, she’ll note the small bags under your eye. The languid movement, and stifled yawn. You had made her dinner despite your fatigue from work, and she knows you hate the task.

She’ll do it.

Now, let’s be clear. Shinobu is not a pushover, nor is she a placemat. You will not often find her compliant, but you will discover that she does try to understand your perspective. To notice when you’re sore from having carried too heavy of a burden, exhausted from running errands, or whether the heat has gotten to you. She will take this with a grain of salt, and accept that you are human.

However, she will go to great lengths to ensure that the same dispute, does not happen twice. You may see a chore chart in your near future, or she may simply request enacting a rule that states, whoever doesn’t cook will do the washing, and your decorative towels will be accompanied by more practical towels. She will keep implementing solution after solution until one is successful.

That being said, in every relationship. There comes a point when you will be tested. Blows will be traded, petty remarks, and snippy behavior, and a fight is just unavoidable. (Shinobu knows, as she tried her damnest to dodge it).

To be in a bond with the Insect Hashira is to know that these blows are not common place. They’re rare, and far and few between. In fact, your love has likely avoided such a dispute for a noteworthy passage of time. You had even begun to wonder if she was capable of expressing anger. When it happens, you were likely knocked entirely off kilter. D-Did Shinobu raise her voice?

Understand that it will never be anything small that has drawn the preserved woman’s ire. As I have mentioned, she is a woman of solution, and prefers to mull things with rationale. With great consideration. But just because she is not as trigger happy as other partners, does not mean her patient is limitless. There are a few things that could make your relationship tense.

You may find yourself humiliated by Kocho’s inability to keep her tongue and cheek in check. To an extent, she understands that you have to play into your boss’s ego. She will tell herself time and time again that it is all a part of the corporate ladder (both in the modern world and the taisho era), but there will come a point when an ignorant employer will push her too far.

It may be that they pushed off their duties on you for yet another time without the slightest clue as to how to perform the task, and yet to continue to berate you for the smallest of infringements. It may be that once again, they have pronounced your name wrong at a social gathering, or they have allocated the blame to you of an incorrect order even though it is clearly their own hand writing. Regardless as to how you arrived here, her tongue has betrayed her. It has written a carnet you cannot afford.

“[YN]. It’s pronounced, {YN},” while she glowers at the man. The cut of his eyes, shocked that she would dare to do correct a man of his station. A social gathering to promote a new item at your place of work, a tea shop having already driven you ragged for the month. The buffoon of a man so incompetent that he could not work off the necessary mathematical equations to determine the quantities to order, so he had pushed all of his duties on you. Late nights dragging you through the mud. Questioning your competence, degrading you so openly. Unashamed of his own ignorance, far too content to place the burdens on you. To play you the very fool he was, and while she had tried to convince herself that it was necessary, you loved your job. You were not in over your head; you understood the importance of boundaries in your work life. Oh, she had tried, she really had, but to have heard the botched symbols roll of his tongue, butchering your name to the owner of the tea shop. "Excuse me," his voice appalled, a note of warning flicked across his tongue. Completely ignored despite the obvious widening of your eyes, and the touch of your hand against her arm. Lightly tugging. Far too late for that, the rage immolating from every pore of her being. Her teeth gritted, her pragmatic existence whispering for her to cool her temper. To remember her place, to remember your job, and the attention from others she has garnished. Alas, it’s too late. Amongst tea shop attendants, business owners, and members of the community, she had drawn the line in the sand. Stood her ground, as she hissed. “[YN]. You should be well aware of how to pronounce it. You have only had them working like a dog the past few days.” The insistent tugs and coos that you attempted to reassure her were wasted. She was too far gone. Somewhere between insisting he prove his competence, revealing his competence, and fallen curses that near shattered her teeth in her attempt to restrain, Shinobu had realized. She had gone too far.

Shinobu will recognize that her temper had gotten the better of her. That she not only (successfully) told off your boss, but in a public setting amongst your peers, community members, and even strangers. She’s (sort of) embarrassed. While the Insect Hashira still feels that she was correct—the man obviously deserved a tongue lashing, she can acknowledge that it was neither the time, nor the place.

She won’t apologize for how she felt, but she will apologize for how she had conducted herself.

Another situation that you may find yourself in a dispute will come of Shinobu’s own social battery. Bare in mind that while she is willing to engage in the occasional social event, especially if you are a social butterfly, she is still an introvert by nature. She needs time between each outing to recharge her own social batter, and if it’s not given, you will find Kocho snippy. Even a little petty.

When the poison wielder is up for the social interaction, she works over time to ensure she sticks to social expectations. They don’t come naturally to her, and if you recall, she often spills her own thoughts without even realizing that she had insulted someone. This will only be amplified if her social batter is overtly drained.

Except, she’s no longer trying to behave.

She will look your friend dead in the eye and ask why they insist on clinging to you. Do they not realize that as lovers, you would like time alone together from time to time. Third wheel.

Yet again, she needs a moment to realize why you’re upset—she’s dating you not your friend. Ugh, but your friends matter to you. [insert the annoyed groan]. Okay, she was wrong. She handled this poorly. She’s sorry, Shinobu will try another approach next time.

She’s aware that her turn of phrase is not always… the nicest.

And lastly, Kocho is not attached to drama. Overtly emotional situations, and individuals can often times be draining for her. It requires a bit more of herself to follow your train of thought in these situations. She’s tired, but for the most part, she will accept your emotional needs—that’s what a partner does.

However, intentionally setting herself into drama induced scenarios such as power struggles, fighting for your attention, attempts to elicit jealousy as her lover, etc. These will never end well. You will find her tongue sharp, poised, lethal, and ready. Emotional Manipulation of even the smallest level is difficult for her to sort through, but to discover you had outright forced the situation on her will have her seething.

Such situations such as intentionally allowing her to believe that you have slept with another person, will elicit unburden rage. She will rely on the facts, you. Manipulated. Her. She will withdraw, cold calculated. Lethal.  You’re sorry? Yes, yes you will be. Atonement is the only solution.

It’s war.

She is emotional, irate, and irrational.

Even if it means taking herself out, she will drag you with her.

In a fight or flight response, she loses all sense of herself. Backed into a corner, Shinobu’s insticts to survive is what captivates her. Drags her to make impulsive moves, to decimate all in her path to safety. She… hates this about herself. Her carelessness for self-preservation.

In more explosive situations (like genuine abusive, yandere behavior), the Insect Hashira runs the risk of simply cutting bonds. Severing ties, burning bridges in her rage. Pack her things in the middle of the night, disappear into the moonlight.

You will never see her again.

She saw the problem and provided a solution.

Ultimately, that’s Shinobu’s goal. A dispute is really just a problem masquerading in emotions. She feels that as your lover, it is her duty to help find solutions. To ensure the success of your relationship. Her affections will drive her to deeper lows and higher highs than she could have ever imagined, than her spirit will even confess.

That being said, even in times of heated disputes, if you are able to maintain your wits. TO remain logical and reliant, calm despite her storm, you will find that Shinobu is almost always, willing to compromise.

Gifts from Shinobu I believe would very. They may feel extremely diverse, and often times, completely unrelated. H-How could the same person who had affectionately gifted you a small stuffy of a Japanese macaque monkey also gift you… a fish head? Or perhaps the better question is, why did she give you a fish head?

You will find that no matter how far apart you are from one another, Shinobu’s thoughts are always with you. You are always on her mind, the small ways you fiddle with your hair. The touch of light across your cheeks, the small way you bite your thumb when you’re thinking--- you are always present in her thoughts regardless of her task. Because of this, she will bring you some of the most… obscure tokens of affections from her travels.

She had gifted you a delicately weaved snow monkey stuff because while she had been passing through, she happened to come face to face with one in the bath. The relaxed way the little one’s features grazed in the onsen. It’s small puff of hair, and the way the anima’s eyes closed in deep satisfaction to meet the warm water---- ah how cute, you often made such a face in the bath. When she would wash your back.

When Shinobu passed by a food stall in a port region on her way home, she could not help but notice the lavish cloth. The blonde who’s speech was unfamiliar, and overtly friendly seller at that, drew her attention. You had recently taken an intrust in foreign books. Spoke of how lovely the details had appeared. She brought one of his confections, a cake? He had delicately wrapped the sparkling treat in cloth, a translator ensuring that the symbol a roze—no, rose had significant meaning in his culture of romance.

Picked up a new pair of sandals for you, delicate little weaves of flowers carefully placed into the making. You express that it really wasn’t necessary, a simple replacement shoe would have been more than enough, but she’ll disagree. The color is the exact shade of pink that blossoms on your cheeks when she praises you.

The Lavender hair pin that she has placed into the intricate wave of strands of hair. The embellishment admittedly flashy enough to draw Tengen’s attention, blow glass and meticulously crafted. A special order that she had placed upon your anniversary, the small touch of her smile as she places it into your hair. “Do you know what lavender symbolizes?”

The Fish head in all of its peculiarities. While it’s true that that it’s usage avoids unnecessary waste, her medical book had expressed that it would increase your serotonin levels, and assist in sleep. She had noticed the way you tossed and turn at night, drifted from bed to warm your self water in the hopes that sleep would follow. Shinobu will prepare a fish head for you, and wish you sweet dreams.

Her gifts while… unique all serves a purpose. Her devotion to you.

Secured in every package.

Part two of Request: Wisteria Bound Promises

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

The Man From Y.I.L.I.N.G.

Chapter 2: "Second Impressions Are Tougher"

This chapter has some of our first bits of research to go with it! I'll be posting the footnotes separately, but if you'd like to see them integrated into the fic directly then you should read it on AO3!

--//--

WEST YUNPING CITY — APARTMENT BLOCK 四

Jin Guangyao is rethinking how willing he is to tend to Lan Xichen until his father arrives in the morning. They’re out of East Yunping and shacked up in the stuffy little apartment Jin Guangyao had once called home for a very brief stint in between leaving prison in Italy and officially entering into Jin Guangshan’s dubious employ in Lanling; in the wake of the adrenaline rush of a narrow escape and now in such close quarters, Lan Xichen is…distracting.

For one thing, he’d taken his cardigan off when Jin Guangyao had removed his own suit jacket, and though Jin Guangyao has the cast-iron excuse of needing to cook dinner to explain why he rolled his sleeves up, what’s Lan Xichen’s excuse?? And since when do primary school music teachers have arms like that?!

For another thing, now that he’s taken off his outer layer Jin Guangyao can smell that he’s wearing some sort of probably-expensive cologne, something absurdly nice and masculine without being overbearing, which is just really not fair. In some sort of attempt to combat such an underhanded move, Jin Guangyao makes something for them to eat with as much diced onion and sliced truffles as he can cram in the pan, despite the fact that he’d been planning to save the truffles for something nice (just for him) tomorrow before he leaves for his next assignment. Lan Xichen wrinkles his nose at the smell but he doesn’t pass comment other than to compliment Jin Guangyao on his ‘refined palate’, which is just so…it’s so..!!!

“Yao-ge,” Mo Xuanyu pops his head in the door to call for him. Jin Guangyao pretends not to see the way Lan Xichen’s eyes light up to learn more of his name and, likely, the fact that he and Mo Xuanyu are related. The typical Jin features are strong; they look similar enough that the ‘ge’ is clearly familial rather than simple camaraderie. “He’s here.”

There’s only one ‘he’ who’s relevant at the moment, and Jin Guangyao feels sour anxiety curdle in his stomach even as he wonders if this means the moment he can wash his hands of the very pretty teacher crowded over his little card-table to eat his dinner has arrived earlier than anticipated.

Jin Guangyao sighs and cuts the gas to the burner with a deft flick of his wrist. He tosses the dish towel in his hands over his shoulder as he wanders down the hall to his cozy little living room, his old flowery apron (gifted to him by the auntie next door some years ago now) still tied neatly around his waist.

Jin Guangshan, Jin Zixun, and the goons they’d brought with them for an extra dose of intimidation do an admirable job of ignoring him for a few long moments as they all stare at the radio currently crackling through a repeating broadcast from earlier in the week from the Americans, some drivel about how they’re dedicated to protecting all the ‘good’ people and eradicating all the other ‘bad’ people, blahdy blah blah. Everyone knows where the wind really blows there, and Jin Guangyao is pretty sure his father is only pretending to pay attention to it so he can have a tool to try to make Jin Guangyao squirm, somehow managing to forget that he wouldn’t be his father’s best agent if he were that easy to rattle.

“I trust that Lan Xichen was helpful enough to be worth the trouble?” Jin Guangshan eventually asks without taking his eyes off the orange glow of the tuner on the front of the radio. Jin Guangyao whips the towel off his shoulder again to grip it tightly in his clenched fists, hiding the tic neatly in the motions of seeming to dry his hands off.

“You were correct, Lan Qiren will be your best bet to track down Wangji.”

Jin Guangshan finally deigns to turn away from uselessly watching the radio to give him an indulgent look that somehow manages to be a scathing judgment as well. It’s a combination Jin Guangyao has come to thoroughly detest.

“That’s it? That’s all you got out of him?”

Jin Guangyao hides his next sigh in whipping the towel over his shoulder again with a sharp snap when it hits the silk back panel of his waistcoat. “Lan Qiren is currently in Yiling, ostensibly to do a bit of community service and to look after some small land holdings the Gusu branch of the family managed to hang onto when they lost their main estate at the start of the war. What he’s probably actually doing is dealing with the Yunmeng Jiang siblings to try to get in touch with Lan Wangji. Yiling sits on the north side of Yunmeng, up the same branch of the river that eventually cuts through Gusu, which makes it a good low-profile meeting point between the Jiang and the Lan for anything that needs doing without getting too much attention. You know Lan Qiren’s location, his immediate intentions, and you have his beloved nephew Lan Xichen to use as leverage to get him to talk. Is there anything else that you require of me?”

Considering Jin Guangyao has actually provided more than the outlines of his briefing for this assignment had specified, the answer to that should be, ‘No, son, your job is finished. Go get some rest after such a difficult and fraught extraction, well done.’. But this is Jin Guangshan he’s talking to, so there will be absolutely no acknowledgment of his accomplishments whatsoever, nor will he likely be allowed any opportunity to rest.

“We already knew all of that!” Jin Guangshan retorts, which is a lie — the bit about Lan Qiren dealing with the Jiangs directly is new and he only learned it tonight in the truck on the way here because of a slip-up from Lan Xichen about his uncle’s most likely travel motivations, followed by Jin Guangyao doing a bit of extrapolating of his own from there. Jin Guangyao manages to keep this argument behind tightly-pressed lips as he steps further into the living room in response to his father’s beckoning wave so he can stop from craning his neck around to see him in the doorway. Jin Guangshan clicks the knob on the radio to ‘off’ with a thick clunk to give Jin Guangyao his full attention for his scolding. Lucky him.

“Don’t get smart with me, either! Your job is finished when I say it’s finished, boy, of course there’s more!”

Jin Guangyao tries to clench his teeth against the argument still burning on his tongue, but he’s had a long and stressful evening, which means his filter to deal with more bullshit is pretty much shot.

“You told me this would be a simple extraction, in and out and I’d be done,” he grits out.

“And it should have been! I didn’t tell you to light up half of East Yunping, you brought this on yourself.” Jin Guangyao ignores Jin Zixun’s unflattering snort of laughter at his expense only thanks to plenty of practice.

“They–” Jin Guangyao doesn’t bother to specify who, he doesn’t need to –”were waiting for me.”

Jin Guangshan snorts at him then and Jin Guangyao has to pat down his apron a few times to keep from balling his hands up into tight fists. “Don’t flatter yourself boy, they follow everyone doing anything remotely in their interests. Besides, Wen Ruohan isn’t stupid, he’ll have figured out how valuable Lan Xichen is as well, this is only to be expected. All that matters is that we got there first.”

“Does Wen Ruohan send his genetic experiments to follow everybody?” he demands, incensed by the casual disregard of his life even though it’s definitely old hat by now. “What they sent after me was barely human! Father, you should have seen it run —“

“Grow a spine, boy!” is Jin Guangshan’s sparkling retort, beginning to grow truly irritated around the edges. Jin Guangyao loses his battle against curling his hands into fists, though he at least plants them on the back of the sofa to lean on and hide how much he’s shaking. “Contrary to what you seem to believe, this family is not in the haberdashery business!” Jin Guangshan gives what he can see of Jin Guangyao behind the couch (which unfortunately includes the flower apron) a scathing up-and-down look that clearly communicates what he thinks of the son he’d never wanted.

“I don’t think you understand,” Jin Guangyao tries again, because his father never understands but Jin Guangyao always finds himself trying to make him every single time, “it tore the back off my car.”

Jin Guangyao feels his anger deflate and crystallize into something cold and hard in his chest when between one blink and the next Jin Guangshan visibly loses interest in the conversation, his scolding delivered and his patience apparently run out. “Remind me again — how long were you supposed to rot in that prison for?”

Jin Guangyao chews on his answer with a flutter in his jaw and doesn’t give his father the satisfaction of repeating for him what they both already know.

Jin Guangshan stands and drifts closer to look down his nose at him. “You owe me five more years, boy. I know you’ve been…taking care of yourself on the side, any fool could see that — I certainly don’t pay you enough to be putting imported truffles in your dinner. But don’t you ever mistake my willingness to look the other way for indulging you as I would Zixuan.” Jin Guangyao clenches his fists so tightly his nails bite into his palms. Jin Guangshan finally turns his back on him to head for the door, Jin Zixun lumbering to his feet to join him. “You’ll report for duty tomorrow morning at 9am sharp, and I’d better see a better attitude. Don’t forget your place in this organization.”

Jin Guangyao stays where he is as his father’s usual entourage files out of the apartment after him, the entire space feeling marginally less stifling once they’re gone. Mo Xuanyu pokes his head in the living room, his expression a cautious, ‘Are you alright?’. Jin Guangyao is in no position to answer that at the moment, so he just waves his brother’s concern off with a tremulous smile.

“A-Yu?” he calls, struck by a thought just as Mo Xuanyu is about to disappear down the hall after the rest of them.

“Yes, Yao-ge?”

“Get me everything you can about Wen Ruohan’s pet giant, will you? I’ll read it in the morning after you come fetch Mr Lan.”

“Sure, ge, I’ll see what I can find. Goodnight.”

Jin Guangyao returns the sentiment with an admonishment for his brother to go get some well-deserved rest at whatever nice hotel all the Jins are staying in this evening, which he agrees to with a tiny, apologetic smile. 

Mo Xuanyu shuts the front door softly after himself, the lock turning a moment later. Jin Guangyao allows himself thirty seconds to breathe through the hatred for all of this burning a hole in his stomach before he returns to the kitchen to begin cleaning up the dishes, his appetite thoroughly gone. Lan Xichen is just finishing up what Jin Guangyao had served him, so Jin Guangyao takes his empty plate away to replace it with his own portion without a word.

“Thank you, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen says quietly, so quietly that Jin Guangyao pretends not to hear him as he turns to scrub the dishes clean (perhaps a little too aggressively) in a blatant attempt to hide his face.

“I have work to do early in the morning,” he tells Lan Xichen a few quiet minutes later when he feels like he can open his mouth without screaming and/or cursing Jin Guangshan for his next three lives. “Agent Mo will be returning for you at half-past 7, he’ll be taking you somewhere safer, though you’re not in any danger here tonight, of course. The bedroom down the hall is yours for the evening, I suggest getting plenty of sleep. Today was…more stressful for you than I’d hoped it would be.”

Lan Xichen sets his spoon on his plate with a quiet clink and scuffs his chair back from the table. Even under the overpowering smell of their curry, when Lan Xichen joins him at the sink there’s still that maddening hint of cologne cutting through truffles and pungent spices. Jin Guangyao does not take a deeper breath in to get more of it, he just…yawns. Sort of. Only through his nose.

“Good advice. I’ll go to bed now, then. Goodnight, Meng Yao,” he says and Jin Guangyao shuts his eyes against being called his old name so gently. There probably isn’t a soul alive who’s said his name like that, considering his mother always called him A-Yao, and by the time he was old enough to make his own way in the world she was already dead.

“Jin Guangyao,” he corrects for his own sake, the name like acid on his tongue, sharp and nauseating — a necessary reminder to himself of what he is these days. “My real name is Jin Guangyao.”

“Mm. And mine is really Lan Huan. Goodnight, A-Yao.”

Jin Guangyao washes the rest of the dishes in something of a daze, and once he’s shut off the lights in the rest of the apartment he slips down the hall to stand outside the cracked-open door to his bedroom and listen for a few moments. He reassures himself with the sound of Lan Xichen’s deep, even breathing — a slow drag in and a short little puff on the exhale — before he slips back down to the living room to bunk down for the night on the sofa.

Fucking hell what a day.

... -.-. . -. . / -... .-. . .- -.-

YUNPING CITY INTERNAL BORDER [WEST SIDE] — RIVERSIDE PARK

At 9am sharp, Jin Guangyao strolls into the area of a quaint little riverside park where Jin Guangshan is waiting, poised too stiffly to be casual on a bench looking across the sluggish water at the wall that divides Yunping City into unequal halves. At Jin Guangyao’s greeting, his father hauls himself to his feet to stuff his hands in the pockets of his raincoat in some stupid show of casual indifference that no one else is paying attention to anyway. Jin Guangyao keeps one hand tight around the handle of his big black umbrella to ward off the misting rain and the other resolutely clenched behind his back as he obeys a jerk of Jin Guangshan’s chin, a silent order to fall in at his father’s side as he starts strolling along the pedestrian walk that rings the park.

“Look at them all,” Jin Guangshan sighs with a gesture at the others around them — a young mother pushing a toddler in a stroller, a few men scattered around different benches reading the morning newspaper, a group of aunties on a flat, grassy spot down by the water doing aerobics. Jin Guangyao watches them all go about their lives with a sort of envy he’s careful to keep off his face lest his father see.

Their strolling brings them to a sharp bend in the pathway that loops around a bright green, European-looking public restroom. It’s a weirdly art nouveau structure of the sort he’d grown familiar with during his brief tours in France and Germany, and Jin Guangyao amuses himself by paying the odd structure more attention than his father as the man continues.

“All these blissfully ignorant people going about their day while we work tirelessly, day and night, to save their miserable lives. And not even a thank you!” Jin Guangyao fights down the urge to yawn from his long day/late night/early morning triple combination — the latest of many in a long string of them, all in service to his father’s interests. “I tell myself that it’s all for the greater good, you know, and that it’s not their fault they can’t help but..languish in the dark. They just don’t have the drive or the intelligence to do what I do, hm?”

Jin Guangyao turns to face Jin Guangshan and his self-satisfied smirk that it’s really far too early in the day to be dealing with, his entire face hopefully projecting a (polite) ‘will you please get on with it’ sort of energy — a request he already knows will go unheeded.

When Jin Guangshan makes it clear that he will absolutely not move on until Jin Guangyao plays along, he forces himself to unbend enough to say, “I’m afraid I don’t follow. Are you feeling tired this morning, father?”

“Wouldn’t you be, if you’d been up all night cleaning up your mess?” he fires back. Jin Guangyao is relieved that his father chooses that moment to turn and ascend the pair of steps into the weird restroom, since it gives him a chance to glare daggers at Jin Guangshan’s back and imagine nice big streaks of blood staining his stupid cream wool coat in the few seconds before his father twitches his fingers at him in a clear instruction to follow him inside.

Jin Guangyao folds his umbrella with a little shake to dislodge the worst of the water droplets and hangs it off the lip of the circular bank of sinks just inside the doorway, watching warily as Jin Guangshan nudges all the stall doors open with lazy flicks of his wrist.

“Are you…looking for anything in particular, father? Or just..looking?” he asks. If at all possible he’d really like to go back to his apartment and rest up for the day before he has to pack his things and head out again on an emergency reassignment his brother hadn’t been available to take, but he imagines his father is looking to punish him some more for the fiasco that was retrieving Lan Xichen, so he’ll just have to bear it.

He wrinkles his nose a little in distaste when Jin Guangshan steps over to the urinals along the other wall with the sharp zziiip of his trousers unfastening.

“What I’m about to feed you, Guangyao, is going to be bitter—” not the most reassuring thing to hear, especially given the current urinal-related circumstances “—but you’re going to have to swallow it.”

“Where are you going with this?” Jin Guangyao can’t resist asking, impatient and irritated (though his voice stays relatively smooth in the interest of self-preservation). There’s the faintest breath of displaced air against the back of his neck, and under the ubiquitous ‘public restroom’ smell assaulting his nose there’s a sudden whiff of something strong, perhaps gunpowder, and when he turns around the monster from last night is right behind him.

Definitely still being punished for that, then.

-... .-. . .- -.-

Nie Mingjue had expected to find Jin Guangshan inside the standalone structure tucked away at the back end of the park. Wen Ruohan had informed him that he’d be meeting with the sleazeball head of the Lanling Jin today, and that Nie Mingjue is responsible for making sure he’ll actually attend the meeting instead of slipping away at the last minute as he’s apparently so fond of doing when they meet anywhere besides Lanling.

What he hadn’t quite anticipated was fucking Jin Guangyao to be accompanying the man, and the startled look in his eyes when he whips around to look up at him is enough to tell Nie Mingjue that Jin Guangyao hadn’t expected to see him here either. Still, it’s not like he’s going to waste an opportunity as good as this now that he’s got it, so he doesn’t bother giving Jin Guangyao a chance to recover his wits before he tackles him into the nearest stall with all the grace and poise of a charging bull and the loud crack of wood splintering.

Jin Guangyao yelps in his ear in a way that only scratches the surface of soothing his anger over the way things panned out last night (Wen Ruohan had to come get him out of the holding cell personally, which is the last thing anyone wants), so Nie Mingjue continues his attack with relish, going heavy with his fists and using his bulk to his advantage in the confined space. Jin Guangyao gets his metaphorical feet under himself quickly though, and soon enough Nie Mingjue finds himself with a tiny little monkey on his back, hands wrapped tightly enough around his throat to choke him.

He shoves down the natural human instinct to panic when his airflow is disrupted and sets about fixing the problem by making a quarter-turn and slamming Jin Guangyao hard enough against the partition between their stall and the next to smash through the painted boards with a satisfying crunch and a soft oof! of all the air escaping Jin Guangyao’s stupid tiny lungs all at once. Nie Mingjue uses the distraction to unhook the man’s hands from his throat and attempt to turn around to keep pummeling him, but Jin Guangyao swings around with him only to grab some of the exposed pipes on the wall behind and above the toilet to get enough leverage for a solid kick to the center of Nie Mingjue’s chest, and this time it’s his turn to fall through the next partition with another loud crunch and clatter.

Jin Guangyao comes after him rather than making his escape, teeth bared and something wild in his eyes that throws Nie Mingjue off-rhythm for only a heartbeat — but that’s just long enough for Jin Guangyao to get behind him and curl his entire arm around his neck this time and swing up onto his back once again. The crook of his elbow locks at the front of Nie Mingjue’s throat and his legs are wrapped tightly around his waist to cling on even as Nie Mingjue attempts to flip his infuriating little hanger-on over his head with the intent to finish this by breaking his fragile spine over the dark green toilet bowl.

Despite his best efforts, Jin Guangyao’s grip is inescapable and so they just end up awkwardly hunched over for a single sharp breath before Jin Guangyao kicks off the wall behind the toilet to send them both careening back out into the central area, nearly bashing Nie Mingjue’s head off one of the sinks before Nie Mingjue finally manages to get him off of his fucking back and put him in a kneeling headlock on the tile floor. He digs his knees into Jin Guangyao’s calves to hold him pinned as tightly as he can as he attempts to return the choking favor as good as he’d gotten. Jin Guangyao’s hands scrabble uselessly at his arm and Nie Mingjue bares his teeth, pleased to have won but far too keyed up to smile like a civilized human being — Wen Ruohan has personally seen to it that barely qualifies as one anyway.

He’s too locked up in his victory and watching Jin Guangyao’s nails dig fruitlessly into the thick leather of his bomber jacket to notice Wen Ruohan slipping in through the offset entrance to the toilet until the man himself speaks up.

“Guangshan.”

Jin Guangshan, still standing over the urinal and looking thoroughly unimpressed, just nods back at him and zips up.

“Улаан Ир.” Nie Mingjue looks up sharply at his boss, who so rarely bothers to speak to him in Nie Mingjue’s own tongue. “Алив, эхний өдөр шинэ хамтрагчаа бүү ал.” Wen Ruohan punctuates the admonishment with a barely-perceptible squint and a little shake of his head that promises punishment should Nie Mingjue disobey (what else is new?). Nie Mingjue forces himself to shove Jin Guangyao away, adding in a little kick to the other man’s feet for good measure as he collapses forward on his hands and knees to get a few deep breaths in, wheezing and coughing on each exhale.

“What does that mean?” Jin Guangyao pants when he can.

Jin Guangshan’s gaze practically burns with disdain from what Nie Mingjue can see when he looks down at his son from where he’s washing his hands and says, “He said ‘Don’t kill your partner on the first day’.”

“I know what he said,” Jin Guangyao snaps, which is…interesting. “What does it mean?”

“It means your father and I are putting our differences aside long enough to pursue shared interests,” Wen Ruohan answers while Jin Guangshan dries his hands and settles his coat more comfortably on his shoulders. “Come, there is much to discuss.”

Nie Mingjue, just as thrown as Jin Guangyao seems to be by this turn, stands and stalks out of the bathroom on Wen Ruohan’s heels, leaving Jin Guangyao to sort himself out as Jin Guangshan keeps pace, the three of them (and Jin Guangyao trailing behind) heading for the open-air café nestled into the next bend in the river.

... -.-. . -. . / -... .-. . .- -.-

YUNPING CITY INTERNAL BORDER [WEST] — RIVERSIDE CAFÉ

“As you’re both well aware, every major organization in the world has currently got its eye on nuclear technology,” Jin Guangshan says around the rim of his coffee cup, sounding as simultaneously bored and pompous as ever under the background hum of the rest of the patrons seated around them enjoying the morning breeze as they nibble on pastries or sip at their own cups between their murmured conversations. Jin Guangyao doesn’t touch the coffee set in front of him but instead stares down into the brown-black surface of it, mentally running through every possible reason why they’re here, now, having a conversation with Wen Ruohan and his secret personal pet, who is without a doubt the best agent in Qishan.

He doesn’t like any of the options very much.

“Luckily, for the most part we know pretty well where everyone stands. There are only so many ways to make a missile, after all, and we all know how to do it…in theory, naturally.” Jin Guangshan laughs with calculated breeziness that Jin Guangyao is sure no one in present company is foolish enough to fall for; after all, hadn’t the entire country recently celebrated the detonation of 596? There’s nothing theoretical about it, that’s sort of the point of this worldwide Cold War. “There’s only one man besides Lan Wangji that we know of who’s on the cusp of doing it both quickly and well, and no one is happy to have such important knowledge so…restricted.”

Jin Guangyao refrains from rolling his eyes with a massive amount of effort. Everyone at this table knows that the Yiling Laozu and his groundbreaking research are the goal here. They were all involved in acquiring Lan Xichen last night simply because of his somewhat tenuous connection to his brother who may be connected to the Yiling Laozu in some way, so why the dramatics of this ‘reveal’?

Wen Ruohan chooses that moment to cut in, sounding as impatient as Jin Guangyao feels and clearly eager to get to the heart of the matter. “The Yiling Laozu has streamlined the process of refining the uranium necessary for the nuclear devices he prototyped during the war, and out of everyone researching nuclear weaponry, he’s the only one we haven’t managed to pin down and keep our eye on. For all we know, the methods he’s developing will make it child’s play for anyone and everyone in the world to develop their own atomic bombs freely, and then where will we be?”

Jin Guangyao darts a glance up at Wen Ruohan to find him frowning thunderously, scowling in a way that might have once made Jin Guangyao afraid of him, before his father taught how to stop fearing anyone else but him. Even a man as powerful and ruthless as Wen Ruohan can’t possibly hurt him in the ways Jin Guangshan can, so what is there to fear? In that same vein, he wonders in a detached sort of way if he should worry about the fact that he no longer cares if the entire world is blown to bits by any of these idiots and their nuclear prick-measuring contests.

His dour musings are interrupted by Jin Guangshan slapping a folder down in front of him hard enough to slosh his untouched coffee, though it doesn’t quite spill over into the saucer. Jin Guangyao dutifully flicks the folder open to the sight of a monochrome candid photo of Lan Xichen from the shoulders up and looking a little windswept, an enigmatic smile on his lips as he gazes somewhere beyond the camera.

Under the clinking and chatter of the rest of the café patrons, Jin Guangshan takes over narrating his little story again.

“Our key to finding the Yiling Laozu is still going to be Lan Xichen, but now we know that Jiang Shipping — which on the surface has no remaining connection to the Lan family as of a full decade ago — may not be quite as innocent in all of this as they’d like to appear. Before the war, there was a rather precocious young man closely aligned with the Jiang family. After the younger generation’s introduction into Jiang Fengmian’s social and professional circles, this boy was frequently seen at events alongside the Jiang heir and heiress, though the family has always been notoriously tight-lipped about his origin and his importance to them.”

Jin Guangyao slides the photo of Lan Xichen aside to study the next photo in the stack: a posed shot of three elegantly dressed young adults, barely out of their teens, at what seems to be a celebratory event for Jiang Shipping judging by the small bit he can see of a nine-petal lotus logo emblazoned on the banner above their heads. The Jiang heiress is in the middle, smiling sweetly with deep dimples in her cheeks and tasteful jewels dripping from every available spot on her wrists, her neck, her ears, even the delicately curled end of her braid draped over one shoulder. She’s flanked by two men in flashy evening wear that flirts with the visuals of Western black-tie, clearly aiming for fashion statements rather than elegant or tastefully understated convention. Upon closer inspection, he realizes he recognizes the man on Jiang Yanli’s left as one of the auxiliary men in the photograph of the Yiling Laozu and Lan Wangji in Yiling that he’d shown Lan Xichen just last night. The other man is circled in thick red chisel-tip, the alcohol bite of the fresh ink tickling the back of his nose.

Jin Guangyao flicks idly to the next photo down to see the circled, unnamed man featured again dressed in the same attire as before, this time hanging off a thoroughly unimpressed-looking Lan Wangji whose expression is impassive, perhaps bordering on unhappy. From what Jin Guangyao knows of Lan Wangji (as told by his contacts within the research department of Jinlintai during the past few years of his reluctant employment), he’s notoriously standoffish and uninterested in any sort of social contact with his coworkers; Jin Guangyao can’t imagine that a younger and even more tightly wound version of him would be thrilled to have a long, lanky imp of a man clinging to one of his arms with a grin bright enough to rival the sun.

Jin Guangshan continues, “Before that…unfortunate business with the Lan estate at the start of the war—” alright, so they’re all just going to pretend that said ‘unfortunate business’ wasn’t the direct work of Wen Ruohan’s pyromaniac sons under the cover of the confusing early days of the conflict, most likely carried out on their father’s orders “—the Lan heirs made it their business to ingratiate themselves to others in high society circles, including the Jiang. Lan Wangji in particular was often seen with this..ward of theirs, though information varies on how well they got along. Either way, the boy disappeared early on in the war upon leaving for Europe, and was written off quickly as a casualty of the conflict overseas. Quite a tragedy for the Jiang to lose such a bright mind from their little empire, though perhaps a bit too conveniently timed. He disappeared a mere three months before the sudden appearance of the Yiling Laozu with his brilliant schematics and devastating prototypes, most of which were used in direct aid of the Jiang family’s interests both during the war and after the fighting was over.”

Jin Guangyao fights back the urge to yawn as Jin Guangshan leads them clumsily through information that Jin Guangyao himself had gathered the majority of on his father’s behalf weeks ago. He’d gone to fetch Lan Xichen for a reason, after all.

Wen Ruohan must also be getting tired of Jin Guangshan’s monologuing because he once again interrupts a little crisply. “We believe Lan Xichen is going to be even more instrumental in finding and stopping the Yiling Laozu than originally thought. If the man single-handedly responsible for the last few years of major leaps in nuclear technology is not working alone as we’d thought and is instead supported in secret by the Jiangs, then they may be helping him hold Lan Wangji captive until he gives up the information he’s acquired in the course of his research in Lanling. It’s imperative that we do everything in our power to stop him and keep the others safe before Lan Wangji’s resolve weakens enough to supply them with the information they want.”

Jin Guangyao hides the urge to laugh out loud at the hypocrisy of it all with a single tap of his fingertip on another photo from the same party the Jiang siblings had attended, about halfway through the stack of documents in the folder. He tilts his head a bit to better study another candid shot of Lan Xichen, this time caught when he was laughing at something with his icy brother at his side, his eyes as warm and sparkling with kindness as his little brother’s are cold and disinterested.

“The Jiang family lost nearly everything at the start of the war, though unlike the Lan they were able to build themselves back up from nothing to thriving once again in just a few short years. It would seem recently that they’re willing to accept help from the Yiling Laozu to help them continue to rebuild…in return for their services to get his goods anywhere they need to be smuggled. Due to the loss of Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan in an…unexpected raid on the main Yunmeng complex—” another Wen job his father blatantly brushes past; Jin Guangyao can’t quite manage to keep from rolling his eyes while nobody’s watching him “—Jiang Shipping is now being run entirely by the heir and heiress, Jiang Wanyin and his older sister Jiang Yanli. From what we can tell, Jiang Wanyin isn’t really much of a concern. He doesn’t so much as sneeze without asking his sister for her thoughts on it first; we’re positive she’s the real driving force behind the family’s unexpected success. A lethal combination of delicacy and charm all wrapped up in perfect manners and social connections with every important family this side of China — she’ll be the one to watch out for.”

Jin Guangyao returns to the photo of her with her brother and the man they believe could be the Yiling Laozu, taking note of the way the two men curl around her much smaller frame, arms thrown over her shoulders and postures protective as she smiles sweetly at the camera. She doesn’t look like she could hurt a fly, in all honesty, but Jin Guangyao relies on the exact same camouflage to do the things he does and repeatedly get away clean, so he knows precisely how little that can really mean.

“All of this to say: we believe the Jiang siblings are responsible for Lan Wangji’s disappearance at the Yiling Laozu’s direction, and Lan Qiren’s sudden holiday to Yiling when he’s been in Gusu for years slowly rebuilding the Lan name can’t possibly be a coincidence. Now — imagine the consequences if the Yiling Laozu, previously an isolated threat, suddenly gains access to not only all the resources that the Jiang siblings have at their disposal, but Lan Wangji and the remains of the Lan library as well. He could easily build the most effective atom bomb the world has ever seen for the highest bidder, whoever that may be.”

Wen Ruohan stirs from contemplating the river to reach for his coffee, the movement snagging Jin Guangyao’s wandering attention.

“We have no choice but to work together on this,” Wen Ruohan says with an air of resignation. “Your mission is to infiltrate the Yiling Laozu’s organization through the Jiang siblings, and to retrieve Lan Wangji along with their combined research. It should be on a computer disk just like this—”  Wen Ruohan withdraws from within his jacket a Jin-patented disk, the delicate magnetic tape protected in a round case of soft blue plastic and glinting metal “—and whoever has that disk will become the most powerful force in the world.”

“You, boy, are to investigate Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli,” Jin Guangshan grunts as if irritated that he has to address Jin Guangyao directly where others can see. Jin Guangyao chances a glance at his father, but as is usual when they have any audience outside of anyone in their own organization, his father won’t look directly at him but is instead studying a spot just above his shoulder in the moment before he turns to shoot Nie Mingjue a sharp glance. “Our friend from Qishan will focus on using Lan Xichen to reach Qiren.”

Jin Guangshan stands then, straightens out his jacket, and across the table Wen Ruohan does the same. “We’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Wen Ruohan says pointedly when Nie Mingjue makes as if to stand and leave with his handler. “Guangshan, give my regards to Jin-furen.”

There’s a general increase in the ambient noise level as every cup in the café is abruptly set down in its saucer and each chair is pushed back. Jin Guangyao turns his head to watch the entire open-air patio empty out in just a few moments as everyone who had been ostensibly having a casual morning coffee follows either his father or Wen Ruohan back out into the park heading in opposite directions and to whatever their next duties may be.

Well, at least that explains why they were so comfortable discussing top secret information so openly.

Nie Mingjue, when Jin Guangyao hazards a glance at him across the table, is glaring at him in the twittering silence around them as intently as he had any time their eyes had met the previous night.

It’s an uncomfortably long few moments of a wordless stare-down before Nie Mingjue sits back and tucks his hands into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket, affecting a nonchalance he clearly doesn’t feel.

“Obviously I was briefed about you,” he says, and Jin Guangyao realizes it’s the first time he’s heard the man speak. He isn’t sure how to feel about the fact that his voice is sort of…nice. Deep and rich. Steady. “I know of your criminal background, your years spent running from the law..until you were caught and you had to weasel your way out of prison into Jin Guangshan’s gold-lined pockets. How much did he have to bribe the Americans to let you go? Or did he have to buy you off the Italians?”

Jin Guangyao sighs and doesn’t deign to reply when he’s clearly being insulted.

“But I’ll tell you what really interests me about your profile: what could possibly motivate you to then become his most effective agent? I’ve only ever seen men jump through so many hoops when they want to keep their filthy blackmail tucked safely away from prying eyes.” Nie Mingjue affects a smug look of realization that Jin Guangyao would very much like to punch off his face. He carefully keeps his hand flat where it’s resting on the table beside his cup and saucer, though he curls the other into a tight fist where it’s hidden below the table, resting on his knee. “And then I thought ah, of course: it must be to balance out the shame and humiliation of knowing that the man holding your leash, the father who never wanted you in the first place, still had to come buy you and your freedom, just to clean up the sloppy, greedy mess you left in your wake.”

Jin Guangyao breathes through the age-old ache of being kicked around and bought and sold just like his mother had tried to save him from, even if they’d been made into products in entirely different ways, and decides that the best form of defense is a strong offense.

“Shame and humiliation, hm?” he muses with a little smile, the kind that most people find unnerving – particularly when paired with the steady stare he’s giving Nie Mingjue. “I think you understand humiliation just fine, probably even better than I do. Tell me, how does it feel to devote your life’s work to the man responsible for your entire family’s ruin?”

Nie Mingjue’s face goes white, and Jin Guangyao thrills in the adrenaline rush of landing a successful blow.

“After last night I figured I should read up on you, maybe figure out if there was some fringe medical experiments I’d missed out on in the last year or two that would explain how you exist. It was really an interesting story, you know. Your father, head of his own organization, notorious for opposing Wen Ruohan in ways that would get anyone else killed on sight, but he was really a bit of a hypocrite, wasn’t he? Wasn’t he just as ruthless, just as unfair? And then, come to find out in the end he’d driven himself to madness with all his own little nuclear experiments; arguably as dubious as any of Wen Ruohan’s, only your father was better at hiding it for longer.

“How old were you, exactly, when he was publicly shamed and put down like a dog? Thirteen? Fourteen? Were your psychotic episodes lining up with his by the end, perhaps a bit of father-and-son bonding?”

Jin Guangyao knows that he’s likely avoiding death by no more than the foot and a half of flimsy table separating him from Nie Mingjue, but he doesn’t care one bit when Nie Mingjue is so clearly more upset by Jin Guangyao’s words than the other way around. Let it never be said that Jin Guangyao doesn’t return every blow he’s dealt ten-fold, whenever possible.

“Of course one has to admire how well you’ve done in spite of that, I’m the type of man who believes effort should always be recognized. You rose up quickly through Qishan Wen’s ranks after the Qinghe Nie had well and truly collapsed in on themselves a year or two after your father’s execution — straight through the grunt work and into his special forces, all the way up to right hand man and pet assassin! Well done, you. I do have to wonder if it’s your father’s shame that drove you, though, otherwise why fight so hard for the man who pulled the trigger on Nie Fengyi and ruined you for sport afterward?

“Of course there is actually another, more likely reason that I spotted not long after that. Perhaps it’s not as effective as blackmail — or maybe it’s more effective, I don’t know — but tell me: how is your little brother Huaisang doing all the way back in Qishan? Is he being treated well? Or are the rumors true that he’s currently a popular toy for Wen Ruohan’s important friends to play with while you’re busy out here making sure Wen Ruohan’s hands stay clean? Now that’s a shameful motivation if ever I’ve heard one.”

Jin Guangyao deems his job done well enough when Nie Mingjue jerks to his feet and tosses their table out of his way like it weighs no more than a sheet of paper, dishes smashing on the poured concrete floor and the metal table clattering noisily on top of the mess a split second behind. Jin Guangyao raises an eyebrow at his companion, taking note of his trembling hands, the hunted look in his eyes, and the tension in his neck and jaw before Nie Mingjue stalks off without another word in the same direction the rest of the Wen contingent had gone.

His time finally his own for an hour or two at least, Jin Guangyao stands and picks up his umbrella again to open it with a sigh and take a peaceful, solitary lap around the park. The sound of the wind and the trilling birds in the shelter of the trees that line the paved path are a balm he thoroughly appreciates as he makes his way slowly towards the main entrance, his mind already spinning out webs of plans to make this ridiculous scheme work as best as he can. What else is new, really, when he works for a man such as Jin Guangshan?

With his free hand tucked lazily into his trouser pocket and an old Yunping brothel tune running through his head that he can’t help but whistle as he walks along at his own pace, Jin Guangyao easily passes for any of the locals around him paying him no mind as he goes, and he’s mercifully left alone.

[final-girl96]

Firefly Chapter One

Next ---》

Wednesday 7:00 AM

September 24, 2003

"Yn!" I looked across the street to see Sarah Miller waving at me. I jogged over to her with a smile on my face. I've been watching her for the past two years. "Hey, kid!" I said, ruffling her hair. She scrunched up her nose and moved away from me. "Hi, Mr. Miller." Joel Miller may be eighteen years older than me but he was fucking gorgeous. "Yn. You know you can just call me Joel," he said. "Don't let Nonna hear you saying that. She'll kick both our asses," I laughed. He smiled and nodded his head. "How is Clara?" He asked.

I shrugged. I've been living with my Nonna since I was little. My parents had been involved in a hit and run when I was five. Nonna was the only one who had no problem taking me in. "She's good. A little nauseous this morning but other than that she's doing good," I told him. "Good. Hey, are you available to pick up Sarah today and stay with her until I get home?" He asked. I looked over at Sarah and squinted my eyes at her. "Hmm???" I tapped my chin with my finger. She rolled her eyes, "yn!" I laughed and nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Okay, can you stop hitting on my dad so we can leave before we're later," Sarah said. My eyes widened and I could feel my cheeks starting to get hot. "Oh, my god, Sarah! I was going to take you to get a milkshake after school but now… forget about it you little brat!" She laughed and got in the truck. "You'll still take me!" She said and shut the door. I couldn't even look at Joel. "Firefly!" I looked behind me to see my Nonna at the front door. "Coming, Nonna! Just talking to Mr. Miller!" I called back.

But of course she didn't just go back inside. No, she had to come over as well. "Hello, Joel," she greeted. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, "hello, Clara. I was just asking yn if she wouldn't mind sitting with Sarah tonight. I hope you don't mind," he said. He was always gentle with her. Nonna smiled up at him, "of course not. I have a date with a friend anyway," she said. I looked over at her in confusion. "Date? What happened to being nauseous?" I asked. She smiled and winked before walking away. She may be seventy but she was still very full of life.

I stood there trying to think what friend she was talking about. "Date?" I whispered. "Date. She's still fisty. Maybe it's that man that's been coming over." I looked over at Joel, "what man?" I asked. He smiled with a little laugh before walking around to the driver's side. "Joel? What man?" I asked running around to his side. "You really don't know do you?" He asked. I shook my head waiting for him to tell me. "No. Oh God, does she have a guy over when I'm not home?" I asked. I turned around and started to jog back towards the house. "I'll see you later, Sarah!" I called over my shoulder. "Nonna!"

3:30 PM

I pulled up in front of the school and waited for Sarah. I had the top down on my 1965 mustang. The red poppy paint is shiny and freshly washed. I had music softly playing, and my elbow was propped up on the door. I saw Sarah running over and sat up straighter. "Hey, kid, how was school?" I asked. She put her bookbag in the back seat and put her seat belt on. "It was school. Can we go get milkshakes?" She asked. I laughed and put the car into gear and pulled out. "Sure."

On the way home we also picked up pizza for dinner. Joel wasn't one to really cook and even though he says he's going to be home by five or nine sometimes he's later depending on the job and how things go. Sometimes he and Tommy go out for drinks after work. And I don't mind sitting here with Sarah until he does come home. Nonna was usually out playing bingo or something or now I guess she's on a date. Maybe her bingo nights are actually date nights. After we ate and the dishes were done I put the leftover pizza in the fridge and we watched a movie.

Sarah had her head on my lap fast asleep. The second movie was still playing when the light from headlights filled the room for a few seconds before dying. The sound of a car door closing and then the sound of the door opening pulled my attention over to the entryway. Joel walked in, a tired look on his face. It was almost nine. "Hey, sorry, work ran late, we ran into a couple problems," he said. I gave him a small smile. "It's alright. I don't mind. It beats sitting home alone while Nonna is out on her date." He smiled and looked down at Sarah. "Long day?" He asked.

"Oh yeah, getting milkshakes and going to the mall gets a girl tired," I said. "I'll take her to bed. Thank you again," he said, leaning down and carefully picking up Sarah and taking her up to her room. I could have just left and went home but instead I headed into the kitchen and pre-heated the oven to warm up the pizza. Joel walked in just as I set a couple pieces on the rack. "Thought ya left," he said, getting a beer out of the fridge. "Thought you might be hungry."

"You didn't need to buy dinner," he said. I rolled my eyes and leaned against the counter. "It's no big deal, really. None of it is. I'm more than happy to watch Sarah when you need me to and I'm more than happy to feed her. I read somewhere you have to feed them to keep them alive," I said. He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "Yeah, you ready right. How's school going for ya? Pick a major yet?" He asked. I turned around and pulled a plate out of the cupboard. "It's okay. Still don't know what I want to do though." I turned the oven off and plated the pizza.

I walked over to the table where he was sitting and sat the plate in front of him and he gave a small thanks. I sat down in the chair beside him, leaning back. "Does it get any easier? Being an adult I mean?" I asked. He huffed a laugh and shook his head. "No. It gets harder. Gotta pay bills and go to work everyday. It's horrible. Only good thing that came out of it is Sarah. She keeps me going," he said. I smiled.

"She is pretty great. I love hanging out with her. She has one sense of humor." Joel laughed and I felt my stomach flutter. 'Get it together, yn, he's like eighteen years older than you.' "Yeah, she does. I think she might get it from you. Think ya might be a bad influence," he said. I leaned over and lightly pushed his shoulder. "Hey! I am not! She gets it from you. She's just like her daddy," I said. He stood up, a fond smile on his face. "Yeah I suppose you're right." He washed his plate, dried it and put it back.

I stood up and stretched. "Well, now that I know you ate I will let you get to bed. I have class tomorrow anyway so I better get to bed myself." Joel walked me to the door. "Thanks again, yn. Really appreciate it." I turned and looked at him, "you really gotta stop doing that, Mr. Miller. I'll see you tomorrow." I walked to my car, got in, backed up, and went the couple feet to my driveway.

[0verthinking1t]

BEHOLD, MY NEURODIVERGENT BRETHREN. I GIVE YOU.... THE TEASPOON. aka the tsp. You can TL;DR and just read the part with the colors (from Spoons to Short Rests) if you so choose 😊

Ok let me explain. I'm ADHD and depressed, and struggle a lot with motivation and executive dysfunction. Sometimes, when I'm in "rest and recover" mode after a long work week or a couple of days with A Lot Going On, my brain forgets to turn on the "things make dopamine" function, and I end up spending most of the day chillin in bed, snacking, and binging Netflix. Not a problem, initially, but when I have my whole week scheduled with work, social stuff, and errands, and I only have a single day to do things like cleaning the apartment, this can be very inconvenient. I have trouble making myself do things I don't want to, and on top of that, I'm already starting at a disadvantage because nothing around me is stimulating enough to get me moving. Facebook: boring, games: boring, checking email: boring, snack time: boring — I can't bribe myself into being productive because nothing is functioning as a bargaining chip. So what do?

I write lists. I plan things. Organizing ideas is my thing; I would gladly write checklists for every item on my checklist and then reorganize every checkbox 5 times rather than actually complete and check off any of the items on the list. So I sat down to divide up my tasks for today in hopes that it would get the juices flowing a bit, and ended up coming up with a system to make things easier to sustain throughout the day. It ended up working really well for me, so I want to share this new system in case anyone else can find use for it.

Spoons: ok, a lot of us know the term Spoons, aka spell slots, energy, etc. It's a way of quantifying the finite amount of energy and time you can put into doing things until your mental/physical health is exhausted. For some folks, the number of Spoons you have resets after a night of sleep. For some, it takes some more intentional self care and maintenance time, like a day off for a bath and a movie marathon. Example: showering takes 1 spoon, washing the dishes takes 3, and going to the bank takes 6. I only have 8 spoons today, so I can shower and go to the bank, but the dishes will have to wait. Maybe I can cook for dinner or draw something with the spoon I'll have left over :3

Tsps: tsp ("tisp") is short for teaspoon. Tsps are to spoons as steps are to whole tasks; cleaning the kitchen is a task that can be broken down into steps, and each step can be assigned a value of tsps. It's a scale that rates the effort required to complete a step, from 1 to 10. Tsps are rechargable with a Short Rest. Example: I have to clean the kitchen. Wiping down the surfaces only rates at 1 tsp, washing the dishes comes in at 4 tsps, and sweeping and mopping takes 5 tsps. Taking the trash and recycling out rates at 10 tsps, tho, so cleaning the kitchen has a Spoons level of 20 tsps, or 2 spoons.

Short Rest: I stole this term from D&D 😛 a short rest is a little treat or activity break that stimulates the happy chemicals and refills your tsps. Short Rests must be measured in set increments of either time or a number of something, but you're allowed to schedule multiple Short Rest increments in a row for bigger tasks. Measurement of a Short Rest doesn't have to include the time it takes to check social media, reply to texts, etc., as long as you're only doing a minute or two of those on either end of your activity. Example: today, my Short Rest is working on my cross stitch project. I tend to hyperfocus when I cross stitch, so I'll set a timer and use increments of 5 minutes. This task takes 6 steps to complete, so after every 2 steps, I'll stop, check that conversation I was having with a friend, and take 1 short rest. When the whole task is complete, I'll celebrate with a Short Rest x 2 and move on to the next one.

Basically, it's a system of periodically rewarding yourself in a planned out way, that makes that reward system even more tangible. Keeping the Short Rest intervals small and doubling them up for more important points of your schedule can help sustain your dopamine level throughout the day while still keeping you on track; being good to yourself and allowing time outside of the Short Rest increment for things like phone, or retrieving the snack you treat yourself to, or coming to a stopping point so you can set your activity down properly keeps the Short Rest from feeling rushed or self-defeating. Tsps help you prioritize things and identify specifically what parts of a task you're having trouble motivating for, and can help map out where you'll need to recharge to keep up your energy.

Feel free to do with this idea as you wish. Steal all of it, some of it, or mold it into something that works better for you. I just hope it helps some other Neurodivergent friends out there as much as it helps me. ❤️

[munsonenthisiast]

Then & Forever

A/N: I wrote this in like five days and had my bestie edit. This is my first time writing anything, but I love Josh so-

Summary: Since you started working for GVF, you and Josh had grown close to each other over the years. This time you hope your feelings don't get in the way of ruining everything you built.

Contains: Smut, drinking, smoking, cursing

WC: 10.9k

"So you're saying that. . . you've never played an instrument before?" Sam pointed at his bass. You laughed at the question, sipping your beer. "Correct." Sam furrowed his face in confusion. "Then why do you have a degree IN music if you can't play?" Josh hit Sam on the shoulder with a pencil making a small face. You shrugged your shoulders, swishing the alcohol around your mouth. "I don't know, It's just something I've never wanted to do, you know. I guess it's one thing knowing about an instrument rather than playing it."

Everyone nodded in agreement. "Well, if you did play anything I'm sure you'd be really good at it." Josh smiled towards you. He went back to writing in his journal while everyone else went back to respectively playing their own instruments.

But for you, it seemed a long way home. Never did it cross your mind that you would basically be living with four different people from time to time. Especially not so quickly. Greta Van Fleet was your first job, and really, first anything. From high school until now, you were alone. Which made you a little grumpy when working with people, but none the less you warmed up to them quickly. Especially Josh, who always seemed attached to the hip with you.

Josh may have annoyed you a tiny bit at first, but his euphoric mind is what intrigued you in the first place. He always seemed so wise, knowing the right answer to everything. And the way he wrote the lyrics to songs, just naturally appeared to him somehow. It was truly magic.

Jake smacked you on the arm, calling for your attention. "Ok, what do you think of this." He pulled the guitar over his lap, playing the notes he came up with. You quickly wrote down the notes he played, looking out for any correction. "So what do you think?" He asked, flailing his arms around. Running your pencil down the piece of paper, you started to shake your head. "I think it sounds pretty good," you said looking at Josh, who also nodded his head in compliance. "What would also sound cool is if you gave it a little vibrato during a live show."

Jake smiled writing the commentary down on a sticky note. "You know, for not knowing how to play, you really are smart with this kind of stuff." You glared your eyes at him, snickering just a little bit. Everyone worked for a couple of more hours, before calling it a night. Danny and Sam were practically sleeping on each other.

You shook Sam awake, snatching his car keys from his hand. "We'll both be dead if you drive, and were the most important in the band. Well, besides Danny. And Jake. And Josh." You twirled the keys around your finger while Sam stretched to get awake. Josh flipped all the pages over in his journal, turning to you. "We got pretty far today, don't you think?" Josh smiled at his brothers, who were already arguing about something. "Yeah. Maybe we'll get better stuff done tomorrow, you know. This is supposed to be the 'fun' part," you said using air quotations, "but the most boring part out of everything. But maybe, in the end, it'll all be worth it." you hit Josh's arm softly.

"Are you going with Sam?" you nodded quickly. "Yeah, I kind of promised him I would help him with some stuff in the morning." Josh looked sadder than ever. You smiled at Josh, noticing Sam waiting by the door with Jake and Danny. "I'll see you later." You gave Josh a quick kiss on the head.

"Let's go." you wiggled a finger at Sam, practically dragging him to the car. The ride to Sam's house was fairly quiet other than the little snores coming from him. It was nice to get a moment or two of peace to yourself. Working and living with four grown men gave no room for privacy. Everything is shared between you all. Which you had to admit, scared you a little at first because you've always grown up with a sister and maybe a few girlfriends here and there; but you were never as close to them, then as you were to the band.

The house was quiet when you walked in, dark and dim from the night sky. Sam immediately walked to his bedroom, and passed out on his bed. Which left you alone in the kitchen. Putting some of the items away in cabinets, you looked around at all the brothers' family photos, including some of Danny. It made you smile to yourself to see some of them so young and happy. Maybe a little vulnerable too. You were a little envious of how confident some of them had been with their work, just being able to put themselves out there, accepting failure. Not you though. Failure made you angry, furious even. Sometimes it got so bad, you'd hide away for days without any contact with the outside world.

After putting all the trash away, you headed back to the spare room. You turned on all the lights, changing into some warmer clothing. Crawling under the sheets, sleep came easy that night.

-

When you woke up, the blinds had been left the night before causing you to shoot out of bed. Quickly rubbing your eyes, you went to the bathroom to clean up a bit. When you walked towards the kitchen, your feet padded beneath you. Sam still wasn't up, which was pretty normal. You started some coffee and cooked breakfast for the two of you. Though, something triggered you to open a forbidden drawer and bum a cigarette. Quickly lighting it, you messed around with food until it was cooked.

"A cigarette at 8 in the morning?" Sam questioned groggily, clad in just sweatpants. "Well, you know me; I only smoke when I'm forgetting something." You both said in unison. You quickly waved him off, pouring food onto a plate for both of you. "I wonder WHO you're forgetting." You scrunched your face, looking around the room. "What do you mean who?" Sam scoffed. "Josh," You quickly rolled your eyes, slamming the plate down on the table "Eat the fucking food you loser." You both contently ate in peace while making some playful banter here and there. "So what exactly do you need help with?" Sam pulled out a cigarette from the cartridge, silently lighting.

"I need help with a decision." Sam stared at you while you nodded your in question, pretending like you at least understood what he was talking about. "Look, I just want you to go with me to buy another bass, ok. And I want to go to the record store." Narrowing your eyes, you pulled the cigarette from him. "I feel like this is something completely different than what you're telling me." Sam shook his head slowly. "Nope. I still want to keep the mint-colored bass, but I just want to have a cool collection, you know. Oh, let's buy something expensive!" He pointed the smoke at you, while you collected the dishes to put in the sink. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, please. We can not go broke. Not like last time." You shuddered at the thought.

"Thanks for the food. I'm gonna get ready." You flinched your eyebrows and kept washing the dishes, putting them in the dishwasher. You quickly went back to the room for a change of clothes. By the time you were done, Sam was waiting at the door for you. Grabbing your coat and your shoes, you both headed out the door. Sam was walking coolly beside you, as you both looked around the town. Shops were lining down the small street, with cars passing through. He put his arm around your shoulder as you both passed through large crowds. Finally finding the music shop, you both walked in, heading to a certain section.

"So remind me," He paused to look at a sleek grey bass, flipping it over a couple of times. "Why don't you ever get with Josh? I mean he obviously likes you." You scoffed a little bit at his statement. "I thought we were here for you Sam, not to talk about me." You picked up a dark wood bass, showing it to Sam. "I mean with that same logic why don't I ever get with you? I mean we're close, right?" He rolled his eyes, still playing with the instrument you showed him.

"I think I like this one." Sam brought it up to the counter, talking to the girl up front. Who seemed to really enjoy the conversation they were having. Turning on your heel, you waited by the door playing with some random drum sticks. Sam eventually walked over and led you out. "It'll be delivered in a couple of weeks. I bought a whole new one." You pursed your lips smiling at Sam. "Did you also manage to snag that poor girl's number?"

Sam pushed you upside the head as you walked into the record store. You both parted ways looking at different sections. You flipped through vintage albums, picking out random ones you thought everyone would enjoy. After looking through some more, Sam found you and walked to the front to pay. "You found quite a lot there," Sam said, peeking through the ones in your hand.

"Yeah, figured I could add a bit to my very depressing collection." you chuckled, looking at one of the sleek covers. "Don't you have like two?" you glared back at Sam. "Which I believe are both of your band's albums." Sam laughed. You both paid, bags in hand.

"So what now?" you asked Sam as you both mindlessly walked around. "Probably go home. Want me to take you back?" You nodded in agreement and headed back to his car.

-

After saying goodbye to Sam, you walked back up the stairs to your apartment. When you opened the door, Josh appeared from your room, causing you to nearly break the table in the hallway.

"What the hell Josh!" He shrugged his shoulders, making his way to the couch. "What are you doing here?"

"I was waiting until you got back from hanging out with my brother. What were you two doing anyway?" Pouring a glass of water from the sink, you took a sip, and made your way to the couch next to Josh. You leaned your head back on the cushion, staring at the ceiling. "Sam bought a pretty hefty bass, and bought more records." You looked over at Josh. "What about you?"

"Well you know," he sighed. "Tried to work on writing up some new lyrics. Even went over to Danny's and Jake's to work some stuff out. It's coming along nicely." Setting the cup down on the coffee table, you looped an arm around Josh's, leaning your head on his shoulder. "Good. It'll come out beautifully in the end," you said patting his hand. You sniffed, sitting up in your seat. "Are you staying for dinner?" Josh hummed looking up at you. "Oh yeah. I was actually wondering if I could stay for the night; get's kind of lonely at my place." You nodded.

"Yeah, that's fine." You walked over to the kitchen. "Anything in mind you want to eat?" you asked. "Uh, how about that chicken. The one you make with the rice, mushrooms, and asparagus." You started to pull out the pots and pans, placing them on the stove. You leaned back on the counter watching everything cook. To be quite frank, you didn't know how you would handle Josh staying over. Of course, you and Josh were rather close, it even shocked people that you knew each other so well. After all, he knew you better than your own blood.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. On one hand, it would give you time to think some things over and ponder the questions Sam had asked you earlier today. And then you could for sure decide what you wanted to do. You grabbed some plates and moved the food over to the table. Josh was already seated, patiently awaiting your arrival.

"Looks good, as always." he complimented, raising his hands towards you. "Thanks, Josh." you smiled.

"So," he said, chewing his food. "What happened at the music store?" Rolling your eyes at the thought of Sam annoying you, you told him about how he was flirting with the girl at the front desk. "I mean just giggling, and laughing, it was like watching teenagers make out." You made a small coughing noise thinking about Sam flirting with that poor girl. "But, you know, as they say, there's someone for everyone," you said sarcastically, shaking your head. Josh let out a high-pitched laugh at Sam. "That's Sam for you. He bore you with anything else?"

You thought about all the moments were Sam had bullied you over liking Josh or falling in love with Josh. Of course, you loved Josh but you weren't sure whether you were 'in love' with him per se. He was practically your other half. Nobody else could compare to that. But it was hard to decipher whether you even liked him like that. "You know. The usual; stuff about when you all were younger and more embarrassing moments."

Josh covered his face with his hands, groaning. "I hope it wasn't all too bad." He shook his head, eating the last bits of food. "Not at all, actually." As you both finished your plates, you sat in comfortable silence. That was until Josh spoke out about something.

"Hey remember that time- ugh geez, when was it," he asked, pressing on his face. "Probably around the time I first met you, and I pretty much knew then you hated my fucking guts, man" You let out a breath at the thought of Josh thinking you hated him. "But that was also the time I kept catching you listening to the album at the time. Just over and over and over again." Josh just shook his head thinking of you. "I didn't- hate you," you confessed. "I just really didn't know how to be around people so much. I did like that album though." you laughed, pointing at Josh. Who also laughed along with you. "Look, I'm sorry I made you feel that way; I just, I've never really had close friends like you." Before he could say anything back, you picked up the plates, placing them in the sink.

From inside the kitchen, you could hear him talking to his brothers on the phone. The usual screaming, laughing, and anger from whatever stupid joke someone told. It honestly made you wish you were closer to your own sister. Whom you haven't spoken to in the past ten years. After you finished off with the dishes, you walked to your bedroom. Which was hard to admit, but you had an entire wall full of Greta Van Fleet photos from when you first started working with them because you had a hard time telling who was who.

"Oh, I remember these photos!" Josh exclaimed as walked into your room. He marveled at all the photos you had printed out and plastered on the wall. Some even had labels of all the boy's names. "Yeah, a little creepy, don't you think?"

Josh shrugged. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt because you didn't know who we were, and I know some people have a hard time differentiating between us twins." You turned around and opened up the bag full of record vinyl, handing some to Josh. "Here, I bought some for you earlier, and I figured I could use some- given the only two I have are from your band." He giggled, flipping through the different albums. "Oh, Bob Dylan! What a legend and old Michael Jackson! Very good stuff." You patted his shoulder as you put away all the other albums on a shelf.

"So, the spare bedroom should be good-" Josh cut you off. "I was hoping to sleep with you, actually. Unless that makes you too uncomfortable." You nearly choked on your own spit when Josh asked you that. You really didn't think he'd be that lonely. "Um, no that's fine. I'm sure I have someone's clothes here you can use." He grinned.

"Thanks." You handed him some spare clothes and left him to change in the bathroom. When you returned he was already tucked in, facing the wall with the pictures. Turning off the light, you quietly slid in next to him. You'd never really been in this much of an intimate situation, no less next to Josh. It wasn't awkward, but it was just hard to decipher the feelings of the both of you, and where he was going with his suggestion. "Can I ask you something?" Josh whispered. He turned around to face you closer.

"What was your initial thought when you first met me?" You laughed a little to yourself. "When I first met you I wanted to be exactly like you." Josh propped himself up on his elbow, leaning even closer to you.

"What about me?" he asked. "I don't know. You were always so confident, and the way you carried yourself; just, it made me so mad and angry that I couldn't be like that. Maybe that's why it came off that I hated you a little bit." Josh laid back down.

"Listen, you'll always be the best thing that happened to me. When I first met you, I thought you had the most brilliant mind out of everyone I ever met. Except for Danny. He's got an excellent brain." You smacked his arm laughing out loud.

"Thank you, Josh." You rolled over onto your side, hoping to fall asleep soon. Before you did though, you felt Josh slip an arm around your side; his face falling into the back of your neck. Soon, both of you fell asleep together.

-

When morning came the next day, Josh was still entangled in your back, but this time his arm was hugging you tighter. At any slight movement, he just pulled you closer. Finally giving up from moving away from Josh, you laid there silently in his arms. You silently traced the creases in his hand, thinking absentmindedly. He stirred a tiny bit but never woke. You took this time to turn around and look at him. His arm still wrapped around tightly on your shoulder; causing you to bury your face into his chest.

Inhaling his warm scent, you just about closed your eyes imagining a world where you were in love with him, and he loved you back. At this moment, he started to finally wake up. You decided to keep your eyes closed, too embarrassed to see what his reaction would be to find you both like this. You could feel Josh's eyes looking around the room before they made their way down to you. Feeling the certainty of him staring down at you made you panic a little. But then you could feel his hand start to part through your hair, moving it out of your face. His movement followed by leaning forward, giving you a long slow kiss on the forehead.

Then there was the fine sensation of his lips lingering on your skin. He started whispering your name, shaking you awake. You slowly blinked your eyes to make it look like you hadn't really been awake all this time. He smiled brightly when you both made eye contact. "Good morning," he said softly. You smiled, placing a hand on his chest. "Good morning Josh."

Letting out a little yawn, you turned over and sat up on the side of the bed. You sipped on some water that had been on you bedside for a while, then stretched out. "What do you plan on doing today?" you asked groggily. "Everyone wanted to meet up today and go over some stuff. Wanna join?" you quickly nodded your head.

"Great. Well then, I'll go take a shower and get ready." He walked away silently, leaving you all alone once more. Deciding against the better of things, you too got up to shower. While waiting for the water to heat up, you traced against the spots where Josh's hand had been.

It's like there was a space left on you, but you could only feel the invisible touch leftover from him. Jumping in the shower felt like you were committing a terrible sin. The handprint of Josh washed away as every drop of water hit your body. But it felt just as warm and comforting as him. After quickly getting dressed, you met Josh at the front door who was holding it open for you. The crisp autumn air surprised you in the face when you walked outside. The sidewalks weren't too busy but crowded to perfection

You both got in the car and drove to the studio. Everyone was already there by the time you two made it; For some reason, Josh had wanted to stop to get everyone coffee and a bagel, which you really couldn't say no to. Sam raised his eyebrows at you when you walked in with Josh pretty late. You hit him on the arm lightly. Sam rubbed the part of his arm, cursing you off. Everyone, including you, walked into a backroom set with all the instruments anyone could think of, and two very well-loved on couches.

The lights in the room were set to a dim, vintage-style brown, illuminating everyone's tan features. Josh handed the food out, starting the conversation. It varied from topic to topic.

"How is everyone?"

"Are there new ideas anyone wants to talk about?"

"How about we do this instead of that."

Josh snapped his fingers in front of your face, waving his hand around. "Hey silly, I asked you a question." you looked up quickly, meeting everyone's gaze. "Huh?"

"I said do you have any ideas on what we should wear?" You pulled out a small sketchbook from your jacket pocket showing Josh, and the rest of the band on the different aesthetics for clothing. "I was thinking about stitching some nudity art on the back for Josh. I'll probably go shopping for some silk and thread. I found this really cool jacket piece for Jake; I'll add some things on it, and a shiny blazer for Sam. As for Danny, I found these really nice pants, but I have to tailor them. I'm still trying to find a smooth shirt to go with."

You wrote down some reminder notes giving the rest some time to process anything and get started. Josh sat next to you on one of the couches, pulling out his note journal. He pointed out some of the lyrics, whispering to himself before showing it to you. "I came up with these this morning." your cheeks turned red, though you doubt Josh could see given how dark it was. You read through the lines in each glorious manner. They each had a delicate touch to them, written with something personal

It reminded you of something ethereal. Like being in outer space, and getting to look at all the planets from afar. "What are you thinking?" Josh asked. You let out a short breath before answering. "I think it's good. Really good in fact. I can feel it's personal to you, you know."

Before he could respond, there was a line of curses causing you both to look up. Jake was yelling at himself and the guitar in his hands with a tiny string poking out from the neck of the guitar.

"This fucking piece of shit keeps breaking," he he groaned, with gritted teeth. Rolling your eyes, you went to the other grabbing some new guitar strings. Handing them back Jake, he mumbled out a thank you. "Guess what, it's not that hard to get up and get new strings, Jake. I just did it by myself." Everyone laughed at your taunting to Jake, getting rid of his frustrated mood.

"Well, you're the best." He poked your shoulder. You headed back to another room to think about some more things. Possibly about Josh; but the majority for the band. Really working with them, never gave you time to put yourself out there. Which wasn't a terrible thing. In fact, you preferred not to out. You've always had a one-track mind. Focused too much on one thing, forgetting completely about anything else. It's probably why you'd failed out of most schools during your high school and college career. It always ended up being too much for your brain to handle.

Maybe that's what you feared most. Things always getting in the way; either making you angry, or angry enough to run away and never look back. You didn't want that with Josh. Nor did you want that for this band. You made some more scratch notes, listening to the muffled sound of music. After a while, you doodled in your notebook for some clothing ideas. Stitching had been one of the many skills that stuck with you since when. You never really knew where you learned to do such a thing.

Josh always told you how marvelous your work was. That it belonged in a museum of some sort. He knew somehow that you'd do great things with art. When sketching became boring, you shopped around online for some fabric, and thread, ordering what you needed. When finished some smaller portions of work, you fell back on the couch pushing your hair out of your face. Josh walked in at the right time, pulling you back into the studio.

"We hashed some things out, figured what don't and do want for some of the songs. Think we'll be ready to record in a few weeks." All the boys cheered each other on, pushing each other around. "I think this calls for a celebration over some drinks."

"Great idea. There's a bar a couple of blocks from here. What do you say?" Everyone hummed in agreement, piling out the door. Josh had a hand on your back as he walked you out through all the doors.

-

When you walked inside there were a few people seated around. It wasn't overbearing crazy. Everyone took a seat at the bar ordering drinks. You had already taken a couple of tequila shots to loosen up for the night. "So tell me," Josh slouched down in his seat. "What do you think the future holds for this band." You giggled, already a little drunk.

"What I think doesn't matter Josh. I think that you'll be successful in whatever you choose to do. I think it's you as the leader to help everyone along. In my opinion, they're here to support you and your ideas. I mean, of course, they have their own input but you get what I'm saying." Josh nodded along, sipping his drink. "That's quite a mouthful, but yeah. I'd do anything for these people. For Christ's sake, three of them are my brothers. And Danny I've known for like ever." He pointed to them, which they were all fighting about something.

Josh shook his head, looking down at the floor. He placed a hand on your shoulder as he left for another drink. Sam soon replaced Josh, slouching in the same position. "What were you two talking about." He waved a finger around your face. To which, you quickly swatted away. "He loves you, Sam. We love you. I love you, Sam."

Sam pursed his lips, squinting his eyes. "You're that drunk already?" You hummed looking at your watch seeing as only twenty minutes had passed. "Well Sam, the night's still young, so I'm willing to get fucking wasted if you are." He quickly nodded his head, ordering the two of you more drinks. As the night went on, all of you managed to play twelve rounds of pool (none of which you won), a game of cards, and meet totally random people. You, including the boys, were completely wasted and it wasn't even one in the morning. Danny and Jake had left to go god knows where, leaving you, Sam, and Josh talking to some random girl at a table. Looking over at Josh, you felt your heart hurt a little.

Sometimes you wish you had the assertiveness that Josh had to talk to him. Deep down you knew he would never reject you. He would randomly bring up why you never got together, but you always dismissed the conversation too scared of what might happen. Sam slipped next to you, turning his chair around to face you. He followed your line of sight, his eyes landing on Josh laughing with the same girl who's been here for hours.

"Look, if it pisses you off that much, talk to him later. It's not like he's gonna hate you for the rest of his life. He practically loves you to death." You shook your head, taking another drink of your beer. "I'm just- I'm not mad- I'll just never be able to be that person who can just randomly walk up to a person and fall 'in love' with them." You cried. Every time you think about it, you just want to go to bed and hide. "But how come I never end up with people like you or Jake or even sweet people like Danny. Why does it have to be Josh?"

Sam sat up in his chair, turning it back around to face the bar. "Why don't you try it. Maybe you fighting inside that big head of yours really doesn't like Josh after all." Sam said as he cradled your face, shaking it around. "Really?" Sam shrugged. "What's the worse that can happen? If something happens, so be it. Never hurts to try anything."

Sam bent down quickly, kissing you softly. His lips felt smooth against yours like running a hand over pliable silk. He swiftly ran a hand through your hair, pulling your face closer to his. Finally, he pulled away, smiling down at you.

"Nope." you shook your head. "Well hey, at least we know." He patted your shoulder, walking away towards a game of cards being played.

-

The next day you woke up with an intense headache. There was some leftover water and Ibuprofen on your nightstand. You didn't know how you made it back home or really remember anything at all from the night before.

You downed the pill and some water, making your way slowly to the bathroom, balancing yourself on a wall. You turned on the shower letting the hot water settle the uneasiness in your stomach. The pounding inside your head kept going on for what felt like hours. It didn't help either that you were trying so hard to remember the night before. Of course, you knew that you drank more than you could handle. Then there was Sam. But it all stopped there.

The shower helped a little bit. You danced around to find some clothes to get ready, or at least look decent. After getting ready, you drove back to Sam's. When he opened the door, you noticed Jake and Danny were there already. Except for no Josh. Not that it was out of the ordinary, it was just something you expected.

You made your way through his kitchen, pulling out a cigarette. "I don't think you really wanna be smoking that right now." You glared at him before putting the smoke out. "Um, do you remember what happened last night?" You asked, rubbing the small spot on your head in hopes to get rid of the pain. Sam bit into a piece of food, answering with his mouth full. "We kissed. Yeah," he nodded in assurance. "Yeah, we kissed." You let your head fall into your hands, groaning.

"How'd I get home?" Sam hummed, pointing his piece of food at you. "Josh. Although, he seemed pretty pissed at me. You were also super drunk." Right, you thought. Of course, this would happen to you. Partially you blamed yourself for being so stuck-up and bitchy most of the time, but part of you wishes Sam just pushed you away. Why were you so indecisive all the damn time? For once, it would be nice if you could make a whole-hearted decision without going out and fucking everything up.

You scratched around your eye, watching Sam as he went to go sit next to Jake.

4 weeks later. . .

It really had been almost a whole month that you had gone without talking to Josh. Some nights you wish you could pick up your phone and just text him, but you know it would go unnoticed. It hurt just a little bit. Every day you blamed yourself for screwing things up. When was it not your fault that something went wrong?

You sat bored at home. You tried to catch up on different things like laundry, cleaning, reorganizing literally everything, but nothing seemed to work. You muffled curses under your breath at nothing. That was until you got a text from Jake saying that everyone needed your 'strong womanly brain' to work with. Over the four-week period, you hadn't really talked with the other band members except for Danny (who seriously cares for anybody and everything), and Sam who just random stuff.

You flipped through a random magazine, flipping through the pages reading about the different styles and how to flaunt them. That was until a text from Sam disturbed you saying that everyone needed you at the studio ASAP.

You ran to your door faster than ever, quickly putting on your coat and shoes. When you arrived, no one was seen at first, so you went to the back and everyone was gathered around in a large, huddled circle. Jake was the first to greet you, Sam following close behind.

"Hey! I haven't seen you in a long time." Jake towered over you, pulling you into his side. "Yeah, my mom called. Wanted me to go see her." you lied, looking at Sam, who had just turned in the other direction. "Well, I hope she's doing good. Look, I wanted to see your opinion on some things. Just general stuff, okay?" you nodded. He led you back to a table and passed some papers around, and a little CD that had pre-recorded music. Before any of you could speak though, a door creaked loudly, and out came Josh with a petite girl beside him. His smile immediately disappeared when his eyes landed on you.

The girl looked. . . nice. In other words, she looked like a pleasant enough girl Josh would pick from a crowd. She had a tan, rich skin like his. With wavy, brown hair. Unlike Josh, she had more hazel-green eyes. Everyone stood there awkwardly, looking around at each other. You scratched the top of your head, eyes facing down towards the table. Jake cleared his throat before grabbing a seat for Josh, and the girl.

And of course, to make more room they were both seated in between you and Jake, making her sit right next to you. You smiled nervously towards her as she got herself situated. For a while, you stared at the velvet walls as Jake led on the conversation. You felt a little poke on your arm and noticed she was trying to talk to you.

"Hi, I'm Logan," she whispered. The one thing you noticed about Logan was her smile. It reminded you of Josh. His naturally bright teeth could make anyone instantly happier. "Y/N," you said curtly. You weren't the one to start a conversation, but luckily she made it easy.

"So, how do you know Josh?" she asked, pointing to him. You played around with your nails, turning to look at her. "Uh, I work for him," Not 'I'm his best friend or anything. Totally just ruined the relationship I had by kissing his younger brother because I'm really in love with the man your dating' "And them too, of course." you gave a hesitant laugh, pointing to the rest of them. She bit her lip, turning to listen to the conversation, and then back to you.

"How long have you known all of them, or like worked for them I guess?"

"Around three years. This will be my fourth I think." she nodded with your answer. Finally, she turned back around to listen to what Josh was saying.

You looked back down at the disc, swirling it around on the table. This is hard, you thought. It's all you can think about. Logan's so kind towards you; not the weirdly hostile type. She's not annoying, not inconclusive about anything. Logan's perfect in her own way. She's perfect to Josh. Something you've always wanted, but you, yourself stopped you from having.

"So, uh Y/N, can you take a listen to the CD?" Jake asked you. "Yeah. It'll just be a little later though. I have to finish some other stuff." There was silence as everyone stared at you. Including Josh, who seemed to have a permanent look on you.

"I can listen; if you're busy," Logan speaking up caught you by surprise. It may have angered you a bit because that was your job, to listen. You just looked back at Sam anxiously, who shook his head at you.

"Oh, my bad," Josh said loudly. "This is my girlfriend- Logan. Who you have all met before, but not Y/N. Forgot to introduce you two." If everyone hadn't been in the room right now, you would've gotten up and hit him right across the head. Logan kindly smiled back at you. "Yeah, we were talking earlier," She said pointing to you. "Well, as I said, I can listen if you can't."

If it was anybody else, you would've said something back already. But who were you to yell at this kind, beautiful woman next to you? Though, Sam must've read you wrong since quietly grabbed your wrist. "Sure," you said, handing the CD to Logan. Sitting back in your chair, defeated, what else were you supposed to do?

-

Another lousy week passed, and you wanted to jump off a roof. It had been raining for the past few days, never letting up once. No one had really made contact with you except Danny (you secretly loved him to death), and Sam. You were pretty sure the rest had picked up on the tense atmosphere and didn't want to bother you. No doubt, you probably wouldn't want to speak with yourself either.

You shrugged off a sweater, playing with the end of your sheets. Life was so boring now without any entertainment from anyone. You eventually rolled over on your back, staring a hole into the ceiling. You went over every excuse and explanation you could give to Josh. You understood why he was mad, you figured that much. But sometimes you wish he had his smart wisdom back to understand you better.

You fell to the floor sometime later, reading something random off the shelf. You flipped through the pages mindlessly before you heard some knocking at your door. You ran quickly, opening the door to find Sam standing there with bottles of gin and tequila in his hand. Laughing quietly, you led him inside, finding some bottles for drinks.

"What brings you around?" you raised your eyebrows, pouring some tequila for you and Sam. "Josh," he cleared his throat, taking a few sips. "What about Josh?" Trying to hold your breath, made you curious as to why Josh's younger brother was so angry at him. In fact, you wanted to burst out laughing. "He's so stubborn with everything, and the way he talks about you. God- it's like- I've never seen so much hatred from him." Sam shook his head downing the rest of his drink. He poured some more in his cup and your cup.

You took Sam's hand leading him to your room. You put on Labi Siffre, an old, classic album. You also turned on one of your dim colored lights. They lit up Sam's cheekbones perfectly, making his pale skin glow flawlessly. It looked smooth enough to run a finger over and feel the gentle, velvety skin of Sam.

"How does he talk about me?" Sam closed his eyes, thinking. "He just doesn't let go of the subject. Anytime you or I come up, it's just this rage of fury from him. He almost shuts down essentially. You know," he burped. "They all went out tonight."

You hummed at that. "They all went out, leaving behind you and me." You scoffed at the thought of Josh with Logan at your favorite bar or restaurant. "I'm so sorry Sam." You rubbed his arm, looking down at the floor next to your bed. "That was you and your brother's relationship, and I just," you flicked your hands, making a whoosh sound. Sam laughed, leaning into your side. "Don't worry about it. I like helping you out. Josh can be a little much sometimes."

You elbowed him in the side thinking about something. "Hey whatever happened to the girl from the music shop? You ever talk to her lately?"

"Yeah," he huffed out. "We've been talking lately. She wants to meet up sometime soon, but I don't know." You cocked your head to the side. "Why not. You clearly like her and she really likes you. I don't remember when the last time some actually liked you." Sam pretended he was hurt, pushing you to the side. "I'll ask her sometime when I'm not busy. She's nice."

"And pretty?" you questioned. Sam let out a laugh, swirling the alcohol in his cup. "Very pretty." You both let out sighs sitting in comfortable silence. Although, your mind was occupied with thoughts of Josh, swirling around and never-ending. There were times you just wanted to get up and say fuck it and try to at least explain. But of course, the rejection of him never wanting to be your friend again would kill you. Maybe this was the universe's cruel way of saying you and Josh were never meant to be together in the first place.

If so, you hated it.

-

Surprisingly, Sam was the first to wake up. Which rarely happens considering how well you knew him. The poor boy slept through everything. He started shaking you awake, poking and tickling your sides. "Are you dead, jeez?" You quickly rubbed your eyes, sitting up. "Sorry, the alcohol must've really knocked me out." Sam stifled a yawn, sitting on the edge of your bed. "Well, we can do one of two things today," he noted. "We can either go to the studio and face my brother, or we can- do nothing else. That's really it. I kind of swore I would be there today."

You couldn't stay inside any longer. You decided against the greater good to tag along with Sam. Maybe you could talk with Josh, and clear the air. "Can I go with you?" Sam nodded feverishly. "Of course; that's like your job."

"It doesn't feel like it. Logan's pretty much taking over, so what's the point of me." You scoffed thinking of the mellow girl who seemed to get along with everyone. You hated to slander her, but you just wanted Josh back. You and Sam left in a rush, hastily driving to the studio. You walked inside with a cigarette dangling from your lips, smoke escaping through your nose. Sweat seeped from your palms making you excited and nervous at the same time. You felt like an outsider coming in on your job. Thinking about seeing Josh made it worse.

"Hello, Hello Y/N" Danny strutted over, hairs sticking to his forehead. He pulled you in for a tight hug, nearly suffocating you. "Hey, Daniel." you moved the hairs around his face so you could see him better. "Long time, no see, man." He laughed walking back to his seat behind the drum kit. You followed Sam to the other rooms where Jake and Josh might be hiding. Sure enough, Josh was standing next to his twin, listening to a riff he was playing. They immediately stopped talking to each other. Josh scoffed at you as Sam led you inside, beside him.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" Josh said it lowly, spitting it towards you. Your eyes looked down, not daring to ever lookup. "Hey Josh," Sam patted him on the shoulder. You looked awkwardly around the room looking for a means to escape. When you realized there wasn't one, you looked back at Josh. He quietly talked to Jake about something before turning to you. You tried to look away fast enough, but his eyes caught yours. Josh started to stalk close to you, exhaling a breath. "Hey," you thought he might've not heard you, but his response caught you off guard.

"Hey, Y/N" He sniffled a little bit before turning towards you. "Care to take a walk with me? Could use some fresh air." You nodded your head silently, following after him. If your anxiety hadn't kicked in yet, it sure as hell did now. Josh was never a person to scare you. He was too light and giddy for him to be somewhat freighting.

He walked slightly behind you with a hand on the small of your back. Josh eventually let go of you when you both made it to the sidewalk. The people around you made the silence slightly more comfortable but you wished you had something to think about other than Josh. After a few more moments of silence, you decided to speak up, but Josh beat you to it. "I'm sorry for being an ass," he cleared it all out on one breath. You scoffed at him. "I think you were being more than an ass, Josh." He suddenly slowed his walking to match your pace.

"You pretty much left me in the wind. I thought I lost my best friend," you nudged him softly in the ribcage, laughing. He held a hand over his chest, heaving out a relieved breath. "I thought you were going to hate me forever." You pointed at him before saying: "Pull anything like that again, and I'll do more than just hate you forever."

Josh held his hands up abruptly like you had caught him stealing something. "I promise." You smirked. The both of you walked around endlessly making small talk here and there. Part of you was glad that you and Josh had cleared the air. Although, you hadn't really talked with him about Sam. It embarrassed you just thinking about the whole situation.

After you made a full round of the streets, Josh walked you back inside the studio. It was hours before anyone ever got to go home. The moon had fully risen and was shining brightly in the sky. You stared up like a child, holding on tightly to your coat. When you were making your way towards Sam's car Josh had grabbed you by the elbow.

"Y/N," Josh fiddled around with the collar of his jacket, looking down at the concrete. Even though it was pitch black outside, you could tell Josh's face was heating up. "I was wondering if you wanted to come back with me? I know Sam was taking you home, but I still feel like we need to talk." A small smile started to quickly form. You nodded not thinking about the harm that could come from staying with Josh.

"Yeah, sure." you let a hesitant sigh before following him once more. When you arrived inside Josh's home it felt almost foreign. There were slightly disheveled things around, but nothing had really changed. It still had all the same scattered records on the coffee table as well as random books set around the countertops. Josh flipped on the light switch and went towards the kitchen. He came back out and handed you a cup of water before taking off his coat.

"I know, it's been a long time since we spoke," he started. "or even hung out together."

You nodded, sipping some of the water. "Yeah, I kind of missed that."

-

After you and Josh got situated, he led you back to his room. There was a dim lamp, along with some new fairy lights scattered around the ceiling. "Fairy lights?" You pointed to the little bulbs sparkling brightly. "Oh, yeah," Josh was picking out a record, finally placing it on the player. It was an album you hadn't heard before, but it seemed to fit the mood well enough. Looking around for a little bit longer you come to find some old pictures on the floor. Squatting down, you noticed they were photos of his brothers and Daniel when they were younger. But what really caught your attention was a stack neatly dedicated to you.

Some of the photos had showcased some of you and Josh's late adventures, and the concerts you had appeared to. One in particular in which Josh had his arms wrapped around your middle, seated around a bonfire. That was a night you remember very clearly. That was when you realized how much you loved Josh. He never left your side and coddled you close to him. The memory warmed your heart making it beat a tiny bit faster.

"That was a very hot summer night if I remember correctly." Josh peered over your shoulder, studying the picture. "Yeah, it was. Then I passed out inside the van right after that," you laughed loudly, tossing your head back. Running a finger over your face in the picture still reminiscing on the sweet memory, you could feel Josh watching you from across the room.

"Can you come up here for a sec?" Josh patted his mattress, motioning to you. You could tell he was nervous still when he started to fumble around with his nails, not making much eye contact. "Do you remember when I asked you why you envied me so much?" He let out a slow breath, nudging you a little bit with his elbow. You realized the change in the situation and started to mirror his nervous tics.

"Yeah, I just- wish I could carry myself like you. You're always the most confident person in the room; you know things Josh that no one could ever know." The two of you sat in silence for a little bit after you answered. Josh hesitated before speaking again but continued on after pondering for a bit. "Well, I never felt that way around you. For the longest time, I would beat myself up just thinking about how wonderful you are Y/N. The way you think of me is how I always thought of you. Just not as confident because of how quiet you are sometimes." He laughed out the last part making you smile back.

"God, sometimes I just want to cry because of how amazing you are Y/N. Everything you've done for this band, everything you've done for me; I just - I love you." You slowly turned your head to look at Josh, replaying the words over and over again in your head.

He loves you.

"I'm going to assume you mean in it in that way Josh or this would be very embarrassing." Josh snickered, putting both hands on the side of your face. "I mean it in every way possible." He finally pressed his lips to yours, feeling the velvet touch of each other. Josh ran his fingers through your hair, pressing his tongue in an open-mouthed kiss. You moaned quietly when he started to press kisses along your jaw, down to your neck. You could feel his hands start to travel down to your waist, hugging you tightly as it showed in the picture.

Josh continued to bite down on your skin and sucked, leaving bright red marks behind. His fingers squeezed down on your hips before traveling under your shirt. He placed a knee between your legs, pushing you further into the mattress. You looked at each other momentarily as Josh slipped you out of your shirt. He ran his hands over your stomach making you flinch at the sudden touch.

"Josh," His name came out as a whine as Josh slipped off your bra, throwing it towards the floor. You caught the look of awe when his eyes landed on your breasts, your chest heaving slightly. He returned to kissing down your neck making his way down your collar bone. Your hands made their way to his hair, tugging at it when his mouth made contact with your nipple.

He sucked gently, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. All you could think about was the euphoric thoughts running through your brain. All you could see were stars, showing up in random directions making you lost in the feeling. Josh continued for a while before slowly traveling down to your legs.

Josh looked at you for approval, to which you vaguely nodded in return, before pulling off your pants. You shuddered at the delicate touch of his fingers ghosting along your skin. His hands traveled back up your calves, pressing at your thighs. The room suddenly became too hot as his fingers wrapped around the strap of your underwear, pulling them down your legs. Your breathing was so ragged by now that you thought Josh might've pointed it out already, but he continued to stare down at you with the most mesmerizing look in his eyes. You knew at this point if this had been anyone else, you probably would've wanted to hide under the bed. Something so comforting about Josh made it feel natural to in his grasps.

Josh started down at your ankles, pressing hard kisses up your legs. He hovered over your pelvis just before kissing around your clit. Your legs immediately started to close at the feeling, but his hand pushed them back farther. "Josh, oh my god!" You moaned out into nothing. He continued sucking hard on your clit making the stars in your head come closer to earth.

"Josh, please," Your hands pulled at his curls as he lapped around your center. "You're so fucking wet for me Y/N. Jesus," He moaned into your heat making you squirm on the bed.

"Please Josh, use your fingers, please." You whined mercilessly at the thought of coming around his fingers. It wasn't long before you felt two fingers drag inside of you, along with the feeling of him sucking your clit. You could feel yourself getting nearer to your orgasm as he curled his fingers against your g-spot. "Josh, don't fucking stop!"

At the perfect moment, everything seemed to fall apart in the most beautiful way. You leaned your head back into the pillow as your vision turned white with little black dots appearing randomly. Josh's breath fanned over your heat before he stood up to take off some of his clothes.

"Can't really have sex if I'm still dressed like I'm going to fucking prom or something, Jesus." You giggled loudly while you watched him crawl back over you. Josh pressed a soft kiss to your lips, grinding his hips against you. Your hand slowly ran over his chest, grabbing onto his belt. You fumbled around until you managed to get it undone along with his pants. Josh stared at your face, admiring your features. "I don't think I'll be able to take you seriously for much longer if you don't do something," you whispered.

"Oh yeah?" Josh raised an eyebrow, smiling at you. You slowly reached past his briefs making contact with his hard-on, causing him to moan quietly and start kissing you again.

"Uh, I don't think I have any condoms on me; I didn't really envision fucking you tonight." You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck. "It's okay. I'm on the pill." You pulled his underwear down, hiking your legs around his hips loosely. You could feel yourself getting wetter as he passively rolled his forefinger over your clit. You kissed him hard, sucking on his tongue. "Fuck me, please," you begged. Josh looked deeply into your eyes, then grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his hips, tightly. He teased you, rubbing himself up and down your center.

You exhaled as he entered you, wrapping a hand around his bicep to steady yourself. Josh's head fell into your neck, feeling his warm breath as he trusted in slowly. He lifted his head to kiss you; He used his hand to move the hairs out of your face, wrapping it around your cranium. "You are so- prepossessing." He whispered, his thrust becoming faster.

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades after he set such a brutal pace that you didn't think you'd be able to keep up with. You took note of how his curls stuck to his forehead. Whenever he thrust in, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer. His thrust started to shake the bed only spurring you on more. Your hands grabbed at his torso, holding onto him tightly.

"Josh," you breathed out, words lost as they left your mouth. "Don't stop." Josh looked between your bodies as they pressed together. He thrust in deep, pressing you into the bed further. You cursed under your breath, trying to hold back the moans only releasing small high-pitched whines. Your head fell back against the pillow, all the tension releasing your body slowly. "Fuck," Josh moaned into your collarbone. He tightened his grip on your thigh, quickening his thrusts.

You ran your fingers along the nape of his neck, feeling the little hairs stick to his body. Josh moaned, feeling him cum deep inside you. His head fell into your neck as you both tried to catch your breath. Josh smiled, pressing kisses to your chest before laying down next to you.

"Fuck you're amazing," Josh mumbled into your ear. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder pulling your head to his chest. His hands ran down your arm, squeezing the tiny bit of flesh. "Tell me something I don't already know Joshua." You flipped over onto your side, Josh following in pursuit. He tightened his arm once more around your stomach this time. He pressed small kisses along your shoulder, laying his face into your hair.

"I love you," He mumbled.

"I love you too." You placed your hand over his, peace finding you easy tonight.

-

When you woke up the next morning, Josh still had you in his arms, snoring softly. Like you, he liked to get up when it was still dark out, but given last night you couldn't blame either of yourselves for wanting to sleep in. Josh woke up sometime after, pressing small kisses into the nape of your neck down to your shoulder blades.

"Good morning," he said quietly, wrapping his legs around yours, pulling his body closer to yours.

"Morning Josh." You closed your eyes allowing the quiet of the room to comfort you. It seemed pretty peaceful outside, from what you could hear at least. But your mind was running a thousand miles a minute. How did a three-year friendship change so drastically? If someone told you that three years later you'd be sleeping with Josh, you probably start cursing them out at the bare minimum. Josh infuriated you at the beginning, but what changed that you couldn't get enough? Maybe it was his style? Everyone loves Josh's style. He doesn't really care what goes together, as long as it fits him and his outrageous personality. Speaking of which, Josh's personality was unspoken of. People turned heads when he walked through doors because he was always the life of the party. Normal people just naturally gravitate towards him. Heck, you couldn't even keep up the 'holding a grudge' façade for too long because Josh helped you. Maybe you thanked him for that instead.

"I think we need to get up," you said, patting his hand. He protested that you two keep sleeping longer because it's too early. "Josh it's like," you squinted your eyes towards the clock. "Nine am." You yelled, pushing his arm of you.

You ran into the bathroom to pee before jumping in the shower. After taking some time cleaning yourself and changing into something more comfortable (which ended up being one of Josh's old college sweatshirts because he insisted you looked really good in them) you both left to the studio. Of course, the first one to greet you was your favorite out of the four, Daniel. After he finished talking with Josh, he led the both of you to a back room. It was a large decorated room that you hadn't really been in much. The walls were in stripes of inverted red along with carpet having a velvet touch to it. Plaques labeled the wall with other types of scandalous music art.

Jake and Sam walked in together already arguing about something. "Lookey here," Jake pulled you into a side hug, and Sam passed you a drink. "I thought my smoking habits were bad, but drinking at ten in the morning?" you tutted Sam away from you, taking a seat at a large table. "It helps me think more clearly."

Josh took a seat next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. "Hey, you never showed me the finish drawing for your clothing ideas." You raised your eyebrows and said: "I wonder why." You cocked your head to the side, and Josh frowned at you. Snickering to yourself, you handed him a sketchbook. "These are- really good, Y/N. I forgot you could draw so well." You doodled around the paper of a sketched-out Josh in what would be fashion attire for next year. "One of my many hobbies."

He patted your leg before turning his attention to his twin. Sam waltzed over to your side, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "Is that my brother's sweatshirt?" You glared at him before answering a subtle yes. Sam gasped in a fake manner, holding a hand across his heart.

"Are you two in love with each other finally?" Sam laughed at you giving him a side-eye. "Good. you make Josh happy." Content with that, he left to go sit next to Danny. You played around with the drawing some more, later on, moving to a computer to work there. Everyone left you alone to go play in another room which seems to help numb the background noise. Though, it didn't last long until Josh walked through the door. He strutted over to you, rubbing a hand on your back before sitting down.

"How's it goin' in there?" You closed the laptop, turning your attention towards him. Josh talked about how everything's coming along nicely, and Jake is stubborn about everything or how Sam is always messing up. You hummed, following along. Not that you would ever tell Josh, but sometimes you never would really listen to what he was saying, but you loved to watch his hand movements or the expressions on his face. It added to his character. "I meant to ask you some time ago, but uh- whatever happened to Logan?" Josh immediately froze, looking down to the floor like a scolded puppy.

"I told her I would talk to her later this week." You shook your head, crossing your arms. "What?"

"Nothing; I was just thinking we wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for me oodling with your brother." Josh laughed at your choice of words, placing his hand softly on yours. "I think it was both us Y/N."

'Well, in my defense Sam is kind of hot now that I think about it." Josh slapped your shoulder. "Mmmm, you're right Sam does have that 'sense' to him." Time seemed to fly by the five of you, constantly arguing, laughing, or just goofing off with each other. It felt good to be back with everybody, and not walking around on eggshells. Sometimes the moment was so pleasant, you never wanted it to end.

-

It was eerily quiet when you walked inside Josh's home. It was nighttime, and the moon was full, shining brightly through the curtains. "Don't you ever wish you could see the stars?" Josh asked randomly.

"Light pollution man," He mumbled out, yeah, heading towards his bedroom. You peeked outside the window one more time, catching a glimpse of the clouds in the sky. Josh had changed into some comfier clothing and slid under the covers. You followed in pursuit, still wearing his old college t-shirt. "Where do you think we'll be in ten years?" The question had taken you by surprise. You knew he had a tendency to think a lot about the future, which was kind of admirable, but you had a hard time figuring out what the future would hold for you.

"That's hard to tell; Not unless I kill you first, but uh, I think we'll still be together, and so will the band. I guess it's just up to the rest of us." Josh hummed at your input. He flipped over on his side to look at you. "I hope we're together forever." Your face started to blush, although you doubt Josh could see, this time you wished he did.

"Me too." Your voice came out with full confidence knowing every ounce of you could never let him go. "Hey, do you think you'd ever let me wear your outfits after this next tour? They're kind of stylish if I say so myself." Josh laughed out loud. "I don't think they'd fit you, honey." You scoffed, pouting.

"Josh, I hate to break it to you but you're not that big." A playful laugh escaped your mouth while you pinched his arm. He pushed you back in return. "I meant your height." He shook his head. You turned around, allowing Josh to trap you in his arms.

"I hope I get to see you in heaven. If there is one." The sound of his voice made you want to cry. It was soft whisper that it felt so delicate at this moment.

"I think if you've seen me then, you will see me forever."

[hawkss-whore]

(pic credit: viol_vrt on twt)

At Home Meal (NSFW 18+)

You felt like surprising Hawks today. So you spent hours cooking a nice meal and getting ready. You cleaned the house and set candles around the house. You put on a nice red skin tight dress with your hair up in a ponytail with curls. You didn't put on too much makeup, just a bit of mascara, eye shadow, and lip gloss. You were getting nervous the closer the time came for Hawks to get home. You were looking at your phone constantly, checking the time over and over. Then you heard keys nearby, he was home.

Hawks: Hey babybird, today was a long day-

Hawks just stands at the door looking at you

Y/n: What? Is something wrong?

Hawks: Did- Did you do all of this for me baby?

Y/n: Yeah, I just thought we deserved some romance, we haven't had much of it lately. Do you like it or is it too much? Sorry I just wanted it to be special but I guess I kind of went overboard, I even wore this nice dress but maybe I should have worn something more simple. I'm sorry-

Hawks: No no babybird. I love it. This is amazing, and you look so sexy in that dress like wow. I mean you always look sexy but damn babybird, what did I do to deserve someone like you. This is beautiful, it's perfect.

You sigh, okay good at least he didn't think I was going overboard. You felt yourself relax as the most stressful part already passed. He said he loved it, that's all that mattered.

You both ate the meal you cooked for him. It felt nice, finally being able to be with him. Even if it wasn't at some fancy restaurant, everything felt perfect like if it was a dream, a dream come true. You both laughed and joked around while you ate. It felt like that teenage love, the one where the possibilities are endless and where anything is possible. God you loved him so much. You wished this moment would never end. As you both finished your meal you got up to start washing the dishes and cleaning. As you're starting to wash dishes Hawks comes up behind you and grabs your hips, pulling you towards him.

Y/n: Hawks, stop that. I need to clean up.

Hawks: *he whispers in your ear*  The dishes can wait. I'm in the mood for dessert baby

Y/n: Dessert? From where? I didn't make any, wait I can go to the store and buy us some cake or ice cream, Dessert?? How could I forget!

Hawks: *giggles* You are just so adorable aren't you feather? God sometimes I don't know how that innocent little brain of yours ended up falling for me

Y/n: What are you talking abou-

Hawks: *growls in your ear* You're my dessert baby, you and that tasty, soft, sexy body of yours. I want to eat it all up. I wanna taste every inch of you. And it's not fair if only I have dessert, so why don't we both serve each other on a platter and dig in. You like the sound of that baby?

Y/n: I- Right now? Are you sure? Bu-

Hawks kisses you roughly before you can finish your sentence

Hawks: Cmon babybird, let's do less talking and more kissing

Hawks picks you up and sets you on the island in the kitchen. He starts kissing your neck while leaving small hickies behind. God it felt so good. You started breathing fast and moaning softly. I hate how good he is at making me melt in his hands.

Hawks: Already aroused babybird? We haven't even started *chuckles*

Ugh, you hated how much he teased you. But at the same time, you loved it so much. And speaking of teasing, he started to trail his finger, from your chest, to your stomach, to just above your panties. You tensed up. You knew what was coming next.

Hawks: Oh am I getting too close? Do you want me to keep going or to stop here?

You hated when he did that, he knew you wanted him to keep going but he wanted to tease you. He always wanted you to beg for the thing both of you knew you wanted. You let out soft moans, maybe he'll accept that as a yes.

Hawks: I need you to tell me you want it babybird, I wanna hear you say you want my fingers in you

Fuck, you were growing desperate, he was right there why couldn't he just do it? It was starting to stress you out. You NEEDED him to put his fingers inside you. So you did what he said.

Y/n: Please, finger me daddy. Please I beg you, I need your fingers inside me. I'm desperate for your touch.

Hawks: *grins* That's more like it babybird

He starts fingering you. You try to hold back the moans, but it's so hard. He starts with one finger then not long after slides a second one in. God it felt so good. He kisses your neck as he continues to finger you. You are struggling to keep yourself under control, to keep yourself from screaming from satisfaction.

Hawks: Aww cmon songbird. Let me hear that beautiful song of yours. I wanna hear every single note. I want to know that you like this. Doesn't matter who hears, I won't stop till you scream my name as your cumming.

Fuck. You knew he was serious. He wouldn't let you cum until you were screaming his name. What if the neighbors hear? How would they look at me? God that would be so embarrassing. But we can worry about that when it happens, because right now I don't think I could be quiet even if I tried to. God this man knows how to use his fingers.

Your moans started to escape your mouth, they spilled out of your mouth as you stopped trying to hold them back. You were so loud they probably heard you outside. But you didn't care, because you felt so good right now.

Hawks: God baby you are so sexy. I think I want a taste of that. Don't mind if I do.

Hawks starts kissing you, slowly making his way down to where his fingers were. You twitched the closer his mouth got to its destination. You waited, he was taking his time on purpose. You wanted to just push his head down to speed up the process, but you knew it'd be worse for you than him if you did that. So you waited for what felt like a lifetime. Of course, he can't do anything without teasing you first.

Hawks: Do you feel how close I am babybird? Do you feel my hot breath on your inner thighs? Oh twitching? Are you that desperate for my tongue baby? Should I keep going? Or should I-

You couldn't wait anymore, you got impatient. You crossed your legs and pushed hawks face into your pussy. Cutting him off before he could even finish what he was gonna say. You might get in trouble but right now, you NEEDED his tongue in you. Whatever happens later, whatever punishment you get doesn't matter. Right now you needed this.

Hawks: Wow songbird, awfully needy aren't you? I'll let it slide this one time. I love how desperate you are for my touch. I love that right now, i'm the only one who can get you to cum. So, don't mind if I do.

He continues to tongue fuck you, it felt so good. Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head. Wow that man sure can use his tongue for something more useful than  talking. You couldn't contain yourself. You were struggling to stay still. This gave Hawks more confidence, knowing you were falling apart right in front of him because of what he was doing.

Y/n: I- I'm going to cum

Hawks: Oh are you now songbird? Then let's speed the process up shall we?

Y/n: Yes, please daddy make me cum. I beg you. I'm so close. Please jus-

You came. It felt amazing. Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head. You were struggling to breathe. Wow that was just amazing. You felt like every bit of energy was just drained from you.

Hawks: Oh kid, were not done here. That was just the beginning.

Hawks picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. You were so tired. But I still wanted more. You wanted to feel every part of his body on you. You wanted to return the favor and make him feel good.

Hawks: Now, how about we shut that mouth of yours with my cock

He didn't let you answer. He quickly picked you up. You were now standing in 69 position.

Hawks: Now, why don't you suck my cock with that pretty face of yours feather?

You do. You start sucking his dick. You use both hands as well. You want to show him what you can really do. You can hear him moaning. It felt so good knowing he was moaning because of you. You feel his breathing against your inner thighs, no he can't be serious. He starts tongue fucking you again.

Y/n: Hawks no. I can't take it. I already cummed once I can't take anymor-

You were cut off by your own moans escaping from your mouth

Hawks: This is punishment for forcing me to eat you out like that earlier. Don't get me wrong it turned me on but i'd like to do things at my pace. You didn't actually think i'd let it slide now did you babybird? Even a bird brain would know that. Wow look at that, still dripping wet. Let me clean that up for you

Fuck! You knew he wasn't gonna let it slide. But god was it so hot. You sucking his dick while he's eating your pussy. The room was filled with moans.

Not long after, you were both on the verge of orgasming. Then, it happened. You both orgasmed at the same time. Wow did it feel amazing. You both were out of breath, struggling to breathe.

Hawks: Wow songbird, didn't know you had that in you. Now, how about I put something else in that pussy of yours huh?

Y/n: O-okay

Hawks: Do you not want me to kid? Cause to me it sounds like you don't want me to. I won't give you something you don't want. So if you do want it, beg. Beg for me to fuck you so hard you can't walk tomorrow.

Why does he always have to tease? It's so annoying. But boy does he look so hot when he does. The dominance. Knowing he could do anything and that you were his and only his. Ugh he was just so damn sexy and irresistible.

Y/n: Yes daddy. Please f- fuck my pussy. Fuck me so hard that I can't walk. Please, I beg you.

Hawks: That's more like it

He throws you on the bed and quickly climbs on top of you. And without hesitation, he puts his cock inside of you. You flinch at first, but god did it feel good. It was pain and pleasure at the same time. You thought to yourself, I can't orgasm 3 times, I will lose my mind.

Hawks: How do you like that babybird? Why don't you sing me that song of yours again. I wanna hear it echoing through the room. I wanna hear you screaming baby, won't you do that for daddy?

Y/n: *shaky breath* Y- yes D- daddy

Hawks: That's a good songbird. I'm gonna fuck you till you can't walk. I'm gonna have to carry you everywhere after this. I am gonna destroy you kid.

Oh it was so hot when he was dominant. When he spoke about destroying you. Wow, you were struggling to even think straight at this point. You were a mess, the mascara running down your face, you drooling and struggling to breathe. It was all a beautiful mess.

You were both about to cum again. You can tell he was because you felt his cock pulsating like it did when he was about to cum. And he could tell you were too, he felt your pussy tightening around his cock as you got close to your orgasm.

Hawks: Aww fuck babybird! I can feel it, you need to cum too right? Well cum, cum for daddy. Let's cum together kid. God, I'm so close! I-

And just like that, You both cummed at the same time again. You were so tired, you quickly felt your limbs fall. That was a wild ride. You felt so good.

Hawks: FUCK BABYBIRD! You sure know how to milk a cock dry. How did I get so lucky with such a beautiful girl who has such a sexy body? I just wanna kiss every single part of that sweet body of yours. But right now, I think we're both pretty tired out. I know I am.

Y/n: Yeah. But what about the dishes, we left everything out I should go clean it up-

Hawks: Shhh we can do that tomorrow babybird, right now I just want to cuddle you. I want to hold you and play with your hair. You deserve some love after what you just did cause wow baby, you were amazing. I love you for more than just your body, you know that right kid?

Y/n: I know

Hawks: I want you to know that I don't need sex, sure its definitely a plus being able to have sex with you. But I don't need it. What I need is you, your love, your hugs, your smile, your laugh, that's what I need from you. All of that is better than sex. Now, come get closer, let me hold you babybird

You scoot over to hawks side of the bed. You lay on his chest, you can feel his heartbeat, it's not racing as fast as it was before. Yours still was, I mean I did orgasm 3 times. I don't even know how i'm holding myself together right now.

Hawks tells you as he lightly scratches your back

Hawks: I love you kid. And I know I already said it but I will say it a million more times if I have to. You really are the most important person to me baby, I never wanna lose you. Now, let's get some sleep okay baby. Just relax, I'm here, by your side. And I will be here by your side, for the rest of forever.

He kisses your forehead. You felt so safe. I wish everyday was like this. Not the rough sex, although I wouldn't mind it. But being here, in his arms. It's a feeling I can't explain. It's a feeling I never wanna forget.

In just a few minutes you both ended up falling asleep. Well, another wild day has come to an end. Ugh I love him so much. I don't think I could ever find someone like him again.

[fictionwordcounts]

Home [Anakin x Reader]

Word Count: 2000+

Summary: You're on the desolate planet of Dagobah, and things are a far less than exciting. However, someone crashing close to your home changes everything.

Requested on Wattpad.com at StarkWars084

You were whittling away at a stubborn piece of wood when you saw a ship of some sort fall from the sky not far away. You jumped up from the small chair you had made and examined the smoke trail in awe. Nothing exciting ever happened on this disgusting swamp planet and you absolutely had to go to the crash sight.

Smiling to yourself, you climbed down your tree house and headed off in the direction of the crashed, mysterious object. Wading through the thick mud was easy and you started walking a ways off, but stopped suddenly. You reached toward your back only to grasp empty air-- you'd left your weapon at home. You were furious with yourself for forgetting such an important tool. The planet you were on was nowhere shy of dangerous creatures. Looking over at a large stick on the ground, you decided it would have to do. You grasped it tightly and continued on until you found a broken ship submerged in quick sand. If anyone was alive in there, they certainly weren't now. It was a shame too. You were hoping to find someone (You didn't care who) to make life more interesting. You would have settled for anything in fact.

The sand prevented you from investigating closer, but it was just as amazing from where you were. Sure you had seen ships before, but that was a long time ago, before you came here. The ship was swallowed up quickly by the hungry sand and you strained to see the last bit of the tail disappear. You were about to leave when you noticed footprints leading off from where the plain had been. A sound from behind you made you jump, and you spun around with your makeshift weapon in hand. A man with shoulder-length dark hair and clothes caked in sand stood there. His eyes were kind and calm despite the large stick only inches from his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he stated. Even if it wasn't his intention, he had scared you a great deal, and you found yourself unable to lower the stick. He slowly raised his hands and started pushing the weapon down, and you let him since you couldn't do it yourself.

"Who are you?" You asked him once you had found your voice.

"It's alright, I'm Anakin Skywalker. I'm a Jedi, and I can help you off this planet," he answered. "I could take you as far as Coruscant, if you like."

You bit your tongue and changed your mind. I'm not okay with anything! you decided, I wanted anything but a Jedi. The Jedi were the people you had tried to escape in coming here. You had thought you wanted to be one at one time, but they had rejected you when you had failed their ridiculous trials. Now there was one here, though you had chosen to live on one of the most remote planets you could find. You were angry with him though you knew it was not him alone that had denied you the position.

"Well, I'm very glad you've found a way to get home," you said, trying to maintain a steady voice. "You can do so alone. I wish you luck." With that, you spun around and headed back to the home you had made. Sloshing footsteps and swinging branches told you that he was stumbling right behind.

"Hold on!" He called after you. You were nearly running, and you would've kept going, but this was the only social interaction you would get for who knew how long. You rolled your eyes and slowed so he could catch up. "It's dangerous out here alone," he warned.

You slowly turned around and rolled your eyes. "Is it?" you scoffed and took in a deep breath while you tried to get your thoughts together. "Listen, I do appreciate the offer, but I have no interest in heading back to anywhere the Jedi Council is."

"What do you mean back?" he questioned. "You mean you've been there before?"

You glared at him. "Do the Jedi now find things easy to forget?" you felt yourself shaking and tried desperately to stand completely still. You're not mad at him, you told yourself. You knew you shouldn't be mad at all, but it grew more difficult the more he spoke.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," Anakin apologized. "But at least let me take you to a safer, more populated planet." You almost laughed now.

Gesturing to land around, you responded, "Even if I wanted to leave, how would we?" Anakin looked around.

"I'd find a way," He insisted. You knew there was really nothing he could do, but you liked his determination.

Still, you weren't sold on the idea of returning. "Well," you started hesitantly. "If you're going to find a way back, you'll need a place to stay." You gestured for him to follow you. He was surprisingly good at navigating through the mud. He knew exactly where to step and where not to. You guessed it was the Force showing him the way. It had for you, too, before you memorized the land. When you got to the lake that was not far from your tree house, you made Anakin scrub off all the sand off his arms and neck.

When you made it back to your home you showed Anakin the way up the tree. "You built this?" He asked you once he was at the top.

You nodded proudly. "It took me a while, but it finally came together." You ran your hand across the railing you had put up. You were rather proud of your work and had a right to be. It was sturdy and homely which was perfect for where you lived. "You could probably stay just outside my kitchen for now. Tomorrow I'll have to make a proper bed for you."

Anakin nodded to show he understood then looked questioningly at you. "If I'm going to stay here, I need to know your name."

You had completely forgotten to introduce yourself! You scolded yourself inwardly. "Y/N," you told him.

He smiled "Thank you for offering your home to me, Y/N" You knew he was just being polite. He wouldn't have the comfort of a bed like the one you had made, and you couldn't make one now. You didn't have the items you would need, and it was getting too dark to gather any.

"I recommend you don't leave the house until dawn," you suggested. "The creatures here love the dark."

"I wont," he assured you. Even though he was a Jedi, you knew you couldn't leave him to figure that out on his own.

You would help him the best you could. You didn't hate him. In fact, you found it hard to dislike him. But it was impossible to ignore his title: Jedi. Just thinking the name made you shudder.  You wished him a good night, and Anakin took his robe off and lay down on one of your pillows. He pulled the robe over himself to stay warm and you went to your moss bed. It was actually a nice, comfortable bed that took you a while to complete. You looked over at Anakin who was still awake, staring up at the sky, and your stomach twisted. He wanted to go home, but you couldn't help him do that. The best you could do was make sure he didn't freeze, starve, or get killed by ravenous animals, so that's what you would do. You would keep him alive until he could get back home.

________________________________________________________________________________

You woke up earlier than usual and dressed quickly. You decided to go hunting in hopes of finding some meat to balance out the root stew you would make. As you slipped the cotton shirt over your head, you realized that you didn't have any extra clothes for Anakin to change into, and his clothes were still covered in mud that had dried over. Surely, it wasn't a comfortable way to live. You walked over to Anakin who was fidgeting and stirring in his sleep. You would have to make him a change of clothes as soon as possible.

You grabbed your spear and knife and climbed down the tree easily. You wanted to do this quickly so you could start working on the other projects Anakin's arrival had made for you. You waited at some rocks near the lake with your knife in hand. Nudj, you knew, were lizard-like creatures that stayed around this area. You had only killed a few before, but they weren't bad. When a brave nudj climbed the rocks you quickly threw your knife and pierced it's skin. It thrashed for a second before falling still. You knew the alarm it let out would warn the others and keep you from getting anymore from there. You retrieved the knife and nudj and headed to a different patch of rocks. You repeated this pattern four more times until you had three of the lizards to take back. You jogged back to the tree and climbed up. Anakin was awake.

"Good morning," you called to him. His face was pale and there were beads of sweat on his forehead. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." You looked him over worriedly. Treating disease was not something you could cram into today. Deciding to leave him be, you started preparing a stew from roots herbs and the nudj you caught earlier. Anakin came up to you and watched for a little bit.

You turned to him while the stew cooked. "Have you figured out how you'll be getting back?" you questioned.

He shook his head. "No, I haven't, but I'll find a way," he answered confidently. Surely he knew he wouldn't be able to. The only thing that flew on the planet were the bogwings, and you didn't want to mess with them.

"I'll have to make you a change of clothes," you told him. "I'll do that after we eat." You turned back to the food and stirred it.

"Thank you," Anakin said. You pointed to a small pot you had sitting by.

"If you're going to stay here though," you announced. "You'll have to help and boil some of that water."

He smiled and took the full pot to a small fire you had going.

After you and Anakin had finished eating, you walked over to a bin where you kept thread and fabric. You hadn't expected to use it really so you were happy you found a use for it. You sent Anakin to wash the dishes, but it didn't keep him busy for long. He came to where you were working.

"Tell me about the time you were with the Jedi council," he requested.

You stiffened. Of course, he would be curious, but you didn't want to talk about it. You just wanted him to have a magical solution to leave and do so. You hesitated, trying to play out the conversation in your head.

"When I was younger," you started. "All I wanted to be was a Jedi. I looked up to them and my parents did too." A lump formed in your throat. "They noticed me, finally, and I trained for a long time until I became a Padawan. I wasn't long after that my parents were killed. I couldn't preform as well as they wanted me to. I could only think about them, hoping they would come back. It devastated me, and at times, I even felt resentment--hatred. You know that's not acceptable for Jedi." You inhaled deeply and wiped a tear from your cheek with your fingertips. "They expelled me, and I left. I was angry with the council." You gritted your teeth. "I was angry with Master Yoda."

Anakin looked puzzled. "Master Yoda is very wise," he defended. "I'm sure he had a good reason."

You wiped your face and looked at him reasonably. "Master Yoda has it all wrong," you argued. "There has never once been a Jedi who has kept to the code completely. Our emotions make us human, and those that embrace that are the ones he wants to get rid of. He can't turn us into his mindless, emotionless robots to fight his battles for him."

Anakin was silent. The whole time you were talking your hands were working on the outfit for him.

"But never mind," you attempted a smile. "I finished your outfit." You turned around while Anakin switched his clothes. When he was finished you turned back to see your work. You laughed out loud. The clothes looked absolutely ridiculous. They were baggy and blended into each other making it look like one piece.

"Well, it's a start," he teased, smiling. "At least now I'm not covered in sand from head to toe."

You made a note to yourself to practice your seamstress skills later.

You had just finished the bed for Anakin when the sun sank behind the trees. He slept on it well the first night, but he grew restless from nightmares that not even the most comfortable of beds could fix. You often had to sit by his bed with a cold cloth to calm him. He told you they were of his mother. He had to watch her die over and over again every night and it made him miserable. You did the best you could, but that wasn't much. There were nights when he would wake up suddenly, and you would have to speak quietly and soothingly to him until he could fall asleep again. At first it bothered you, but it troubled you more now.

Anakin had stayed with you for two weeks before a ship landed right next to the lake where you were gathering water one day. You dropped the bucket and ran to the ship. The door opened and a light-haired, bearded man emerged confidently. His eyes were tired but that didn't change how he acted.

"Hello there!" he called to you. "Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi. Could you give me a hand with something?" Stunned you nodded and beckoned him forward. "I'm sorry about landing here without permission. I didn't think this planet was populated. I'll leave soon, but I seem to have lost something and I need help finding it," he explained.

"What did you loose?" you asked him, though you could already guess. Obi-Wan looked at you warily.

"His name is Anakin Skywalker."

You froze. When Anakin arrived, the thought that he might have someone looking for him hadn't even occurred to you. He was back at the tree house preparing food for the both of you. You weren't sure if you should get him or not. As if he heard his name called Anakin came running up from behind you.

Obi-Wan perked up. "Anakin!" He called cheerfully. "I'm glad you're alive, Anakin. You had us all worried." Despite the fact that this man had brought Anakin a way home, he didn't look all that happy.

"You shouldn't have come for me, Master." Anakin said. "You could've saved supplies and time going on without me."

"Anakin don't talk like that," Obi-Wan commanded. "You are my friend, and I will not leave you like that."

Obi-Wan looked at you. "I thank you for any help you have given my young apprentice. You will be paid in whatever currency you find acceptable." He turned back to Anakin. "Let's go, Anakin. Master Yoda will be happy to know you're alright."

Your heart sank. Anakin had found a way to leave after all. This is what you wanted. You reminded yourself. Once he's gone, life will be normal again. Boring and normal. You didn't want him to go now, but what could you do? It was Anakin's decision, and he was already following his master. You stood there waiting for the ship to take off, but it never did. In fact the door opened once again and both of them walked out.

"Is everything okay?" You questioned with a small glimmer of hope that the ship might not start. Anakin was looking much happier now and Obi-Wan more upset.

"It appears," Obi-Wan spoke first. "That Anakin will be staying with you," he explained.

You looked at Anakin who was next to you now.

"Are you serious?" you asked quietly, though your heart was beating rapidly.

He looked up at Obi-Wan. "Thank you for your training, Master," he said respectfully. Obi-Wan nodded blankly.

"I don't know what I'll tell the council," he said almost talking to himself.

Anakin smiled. "I'm sure you'll think of something," he assured. Obi-Wan looked up and smiled.

"Yes, well, I'll still have to pay you, Y/N," he said. "I'll go and get whatever supplies you'll need." He looked at Anakin again and laughed. "And good heavens hopefully some proper clothes." You both laughed merrily. You felt wonderful and couldn't stop smiling.

Obi-Wan left and Anakin hugged you tightly.

"You're really staying," you whispered.

He chuckled. "Yes, I am." He pulled away and looked into your eyes. "You were right, Y/N. I shouldn't try to push any emotions aside anymore." He rested his hand on your cheek. "I love you, Y/N." He grabbed your hand. "Let's go home."

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 6

Part 6~ cuz I love y'all <3 don't forget to drink your vitamins and keep hydrated! Stay safe and healthy my loves :)

Word count: 3k+ words

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: None. (tis a fluff-filled chapter)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

* beware of little shifts in perspective from two characters, we will be jumping casually from their minds.

*

You caught the orc staring at you again, with a smile that made his tusks jut out more. "H-Hi!" you blurted out, waving.

As you began walking towards him, you found yourself losing balance, your legs giving out. You closed your eyes reflexively and expected to land face-first on the tiled floor.

Only you didn't.

You felt a strong arm around your waist and a large hand on your back, nearly covering the expanse of it. Instead of the floor, you found yourself smushed against something warm, and that thing, you figured out a second later, was Tai'chi's chest. You became flustered and felt your cheeks and ears redden. Your nose was practically inhaling his scent now, all that musky and rich smell of his making you light-headed. Stuttering, you pulled your head back.

"I-I-I— Ta-Tai'chi???"

Congratulations self, that was perfect, wow.

"Hm? Oh, uh, sorry. I acted on impulse when I saw you collapse." He said as the grip he had on you slackened and moved to hold your shoulder to support you in case you fall again, his other hand, though, remained in its place behind you.

"Don't w-worry about it. My legs just gave out, haha."

That came out awkwardly.

Damn, he is fast.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, his words filled with genuine concern. Your ears were sporting a tinge of red, he noticed. Your scent also changed, signaling you were flustered.

"Ye-yep! We should uh, head back to class now. Oh! We haven't eaten anything for lunch." You said and as if on cue, your stomach grumbled to agree, followed by another grumble but louder, it wasn't yours but Tai'chi's.

The two of you laughed from the sounds they made.

"You're right. How about we go to the cafeteria first to grab something before we head back to our classroom?" He asked, smiling down at you.

"Great idea!" You agreed, a little too eager than you would've liked.

"We should get going then."

He straightened up and removed his hand from your shoulder when he was certain you wouldn't stumble again. Though, he let his hand on your back linger a bit longer even after you left the office.

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

The trip to the cafeteria was peaceful, minus the sounds of muffled talking coming from the rooms. Tai'chi was beside you as you walked down the halls, thankful that your legs found their strength again.

Arriving at the significantly less crowded canteen, both of you went ahead and ordered some food before finding a place to eat. Spotting a vacant one a few tables from the main entrance, you trudged to it, Tai'chi following close. You sat down and got a clearer look at his tray.

It was a lot, though you expected it to be. There were more vegetables than meat though.

"Not a fan of meat?"

He looked at you and laughed, echoing through the whole cafeteria, which resulted in some students glancing in your direction.

You were a bit taken aback, not expecting that sort of reaction from him.

"I'm sorry. I just- I don't know why I found it funny. I meant no offense."

"None taken."

"To answer you, I'm a huge fan of meat, red meat to be exact. This was the only portion that's left when I asked for more. And I'm still growing so I made up for the lack of meat with the vegetables. We orcs love a healthy and hearty meal."

What he said made you smile even more.

"What about you?" He glanced at your tray to see a portion almost similar to his albeit more assorted. This made him look back up and you, flabbergasted. "You can eat all of that?"

You looked down to inspect your food choice, and you instantly felt self-conscious.

"I...Uhm yes. I can." You replied, albeit meekly.

Tai'chi noticed the sudden change in your voice and made himself clear; "No, no I didn't mean it like that. I'm just, well, as you already know I haven't met many humans aside from the ones in a village back home, so I was just surprised." Watching him explain himself made you smile again. The thought of you being repulsive vanished out into thin air.

"I eat a lot. Though sometimes I eat more junk than healthy food. Anyways, let's begin, shall we? We're already late and I'm starving!" Laughing, you both know today's attendance in class isn't much of an issue. They did say there won't be any lessons today to give time for 'socializing' instead.

You stopped in your tracks when you realized you haven't shown him your face ever since you met. You looked around to see if anyone was watching and stole glances at the one in front of you. You slowly removed your mask and revealed your face. Not many have seen you without it, only those who are close to you, specifically your family.

"I guess this is the first time you've seen my face, huh?" Nervous, you asked.

Tai'chi stared at you so intensely you felt self-conscious once again. "I-Is there something wrong?"

'Shit, does he find me unattractive? Weird? Not that I expected the opposite but —'

"No. No, there's nothing wrong. You-"

"I'm what?"

"You're beautiful."

'Did he just—'

Your face heated up again and this time you had no mask to hide it.

Hastily, you covered your face with one hand and looked away.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when you did, coughing into his fist before he started eating.

Once you cooled down, you did the same. Trying to focus on the savory food they served in the uni.

Eat, damn it.

You barely noticed the orc, or perhaps you chose not to, as you wolf down your food like you haven't eaten for weeks. Another thing he found admirable and attractive. You ate cleanly, not letting a single piece of food go to waste.

He'll have to find some time later to formally introduce himself, along with other...things.

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

You leaned back on your chair, noticing Tai'chi doing the same, as you let the feeling of content wash over yourselves. The food was great! You made a note to thank the cook later.

You sat up after a moment and arranged your dirty utensils. You were against the thought of making the cafeteria's job of cleaning harder than it is. So you cleaned up, stacked plates properly in your tray with concentration, you didn't realize until later that you did the same to his dishes. You didn't spare a peek up into his eyes or else you'd make a fool out of yourself again. Taking a napkin, you wiped your mouth clean before you quickly put on your mask, much to Tai'chi's dismay.

You stood up but before you could walk away, a hand reached out to grab your arm, stopping you. He stood up from his seat.

"Pearl."

"Uh, yes?"

"There's still time before our next class starts. Would you mind taking a stroll around the campus with me?"

"Y-Yeah— sure. I wouldn't mind." You replied, avoiding his gaze.

The two of you strolled around the quiet grounds of the campus. There were trees, younger than the ones in the forest. You took in the nice scenery before you, feeling the fresh, cool air, the gentle rustling of leaves, calming, and the scent of your companion to your left, relaxing and sweet. You were in a daze, barely paying attention when Tai'chi said your name and stood still.

"Hmm?"

He chuckled lightly at your response.

"I want to continue where we left off in the forest."

"Oh. Oh, of course."

"I want to know more about you, Pearl. So I'll start with my true name." He knelt down which startled you momentarily.

.

"I am Tai'chi Kashharzol, eldest of five siblings, son of Durog and Gala. I come from the Northern stronghold of clan Fatof'san. Before I came down to the city, I was trained and taught basic socialization by an old human who lived in the village under our protection.

"I went through one of my clan's traditions and hunted down my first Snow Bear. The elders gave me an honorary title to carry, right after my kill."

You stood there listening to him earnestly as he told you all of this with pride, taking in each word and committing them into memory.

"I was given the name, 'Frostbreaker'. It is my warrior name." He took a breath before he asked. "Will you honor me of becoming my friend?"

All of this sounds like a confession— technically it is but there's something, intimate about it. The way his eyes shone with such determination and something you can't figure out.

Should I ask? He stopped talking, snap out of it–

"Oh, wow. I mean yes! Yes I'll be your friend. I'd be more than happy to. The honor is mine!"

You beamed as he returned a toothy grin.

"Right. I should also say something like that, well, uh, wait." You were slightly nervous as you removed your mask, offering a shy smile before speaking.

Breathe in.

And out.

"I am Pearl Blackbell, only child and daughter of Leon and Athena Blackbell. I'm from a town, West of here, Red Springs is its name. My parents taught me martial arts, and, uh, the use of self-defense weapons." You paused and showed him your crimson knuckles. "This is my favorite one to use, I'm sure you noticed already. My father... didn't want me to leave home without any assurance that I can defend myself. You were right when you said I have experience in combat. A decent amount of it," you sighed.

"I always, almost every day, get into trouble standing up for someone, bullied, or abused. I also held my own when someone tries to harass me, smashing their faces in."

Tai'chi in turn listened closely, his gaze intense on you. He was concerned about what you implied. Many attempted to assault you? How many times? Did they hurt you? Your smile faltered as you told him the next things about yourself.

"I... didn't have friends as I grew up. People tend to be afraid of what they do not understand, y'know? They didn't want me near them, finding me weird for wearing a mask, plus my reputation for punching humans didn't help," you laughed self-deprecatingly. "So I spent my whole high school years training, mastering my art with the help of my father, who was of course, very strict and hard on me." Finding nothing else comfortable to say at this stage, you went quiet.

"Can I ask you a question?" The orc said a moment later. He was bothered by the fact you had no friends, not even one. And training, training meant pain.

"Only if I can ask one in return." You replied, feeling bold all of a sudden. He grinned at this.

"Why do you always wear a mask?"

There was no trace of ulterior motive in his scent, not the usual annoyance you smelled every time someone asked the same question. So you answered him, honestly.

"Promise you won't get weirded out?"

"I swear on my name."

"Oh. oh, okay that's good. You see, my nose, or my sense of smell specifically, is err, not normal."

Now this made Tai'chi's eyes widen. Did you have an illness of sorts? Is your health in danger? Were you h–

"I can tell how someone is feeling based on the changes in their scent. My nose is very sensitive to odors so I keep wearing a mask every time I go outside. It has been like this since I was born. My doctors say it's rare for a human to possess, they say it's special, a gift from a higher being."

"When we went in the cafeteria after our first class, "—Tai'chi inserted— "Was the reason you stopped advancing inside further, the sour and disgusting smell of the students in there?"

"Yes, actually— Wait, how did you know?" you asked.

How does he know??? Did he just smirk?

"I can smell them too."

"You can?!"

"Yes."

"So you mean to tell me, my nose functions similarly like yours?"

"Yes, perhaps, a little bit differently. Or maybe it's because you didn't hone it."

"How can you say so?"

"I can block out certain smells if I want to. And based on your reaction early on, you're having a hard time doing so, is that right?"

"W-Well, yes. You're right. Usually, I'd wear a mask with a basic filtration device, but that doesn't work when I'm inside a closed space and the scents are all mixed up and concentrated."

Tai'chi nodded in reply. He began to stand up and you were met with his towering form once again. You took a step back so you can put less strain on your neck from looking up.

"You still owe me an answer to a question by the way."

"Go on and ask then."

"So, uh, is it just me or when you told me about you...it kind of felt different from how talking to a friend sounds like..." You fidgeted, a certain heat slowly creeps up your face again as you looked around not wanting to meet his gaze. You felt your heart rate increase as you noticed his scent change, telling you you were right.

Tai'chi sighed heavily and rubbed his temples before gathering the courage to talk.

"Yes, it was different."

"So..."

"We use that kind of formality, usually towards someone we want to court."

Did he say 'court'?!

"C-Court??" you squeaked. Pretty sure your face is redder than the color of your brass knuckles, your heart hammering in your chest you believed he could hear it.

"Courting, or dating, or whatever everyone calls it down here." Breathing in deeply, he returned to kneel before you and took your hands into his, large palms caressing your small ones.

"I'll have to rephrase my words."

He locked his gaze into yours, deep blue eyes to your mahogany ones.

"Will you allow me to court you, Pearl Blackbell?"

"W-Why would you want to court me?"

The hell would someone want to court me? I'm seen as a freak by most people and I'm not soft or girly like the others. I don't like skirts or dresses. I hate makeup. I have calloused hands, scars hidden under my clothes. I don't understand —

He gave you a soft smile, cutting off your train of self-deprecating thoughts. "I can hear your mind, Pearl. Don't think low of yourself. You are amazing, y'know that? The first time I saw your eyes, and the moment you fought for my sake, I knew I was smitten. You are graceful, each motion fluid and filled with strength, people would never expect you possess until they feel it through a punch you throw. You are kind, righteous, beautiful, strong, with a heart of gold. It is a shame how most people do not see it. I want to prove myself to you, and win your heart properly."

You were about to pass out from his confession when you remembered you need to respond! Gathering what courage and energy you have left, you answered.

"I...Oh my God... I don't know what to say— I've never experienced this, ever! I'm afraid I won't know what to do- what if I mess up? What if I—"

"Listen, liga ni..." He cut you off as he rubbed circles on your hands, that small shift of language sent his voice into a guttural one. "This is also a first for me, and I share your fears in this. But my wish to pursue you remains unwavered. I will try my best to woo you, and if I do something you didn't like, it is up to you to end the courting, any time you want, and I will stop immediately. I hope we would stay friends if it comes that..." He said as he broke eye contact and looked down.

"Tai'chi..." Seeing him sad like this made your chest twist in discomfort.

Steadying yourself, you studied him, his scent was pure, no malice within his words, he was speaking from his heart. With renewed confidence, you finally decided.

"Tai'chi Kashharzol...I wish to court you as well."

He snapped up his gaze back to you and saw you smile. He scented you just to make sure you weren't doing this out of pity. The moment he realized it was genuine he lifted you in the air and spun you around. You were surprised at the sudden outburst but laughed together with him once you got over it. He set you down after a while and moved his face close to yours but halted immediately when he saw your eyes widen.

"Too forward?" He asked.

"Y-Yeah." Your heart was doing backflips, even if that sounds so ridiculous.

He understood. "I apologize, I got carried away." But before he pulled back you pressed a quick kiss on his forehead. He almost purred from the gesture but suppressed it as not to scare you in any way. You were new to this after all. He cleared his throat and reached out a hand to you.

"We should head back, our class will start soon."

"O-okay." You moved to wear your mask again before taking his hand, enjoying the rest of the walk in silence. You were still nervous, but you decided to focus on the now.

I've never felt like this before... Is it a good thing? I think it is.

And with that on your mind, you let yourself relax.

*

A pair of cruel eyes witnessed the whole exchange, remaining unnoticed as he hid behind a tree, a good distance from where you stood. They watched you and the orc walk away before they went the other direction.

"She will be fun to break. A female, human Blackbell, tempting. This will be a great chance to demonstrate and prove how monstrous an orc could be." They snickered. "I will enjoy this, exceptionally."

"In time, Pearl. In time."

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

Now now who is this suspicious person?!

Liga ni — means 'little one' (as an endearment) in Orcish

Tags: @crackinanutshell @kokokatsworld @mitchiesdungeon

[multifandom-girlie]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬

Imagine:Imagine Requested by Anon. You move to New Orleans and meet Elijah who then introduces you to his younger brothers. You take him to your brothers wedding as your date but he also brings his brothers as plus ones.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Human!Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 3596

Edited: Yes

Hi! I'm sorry so for the long wait, this was a really good request and I wanted to make it perfect for you. Now I can honestly say it still isn't to the best of my ability but I was stumped half way through and had to power through it. Sorry about the length I wasn't planning for it to be this long but it just ended up being so. Anyway I really hope you enjoy! Please comment requests or what you think of the imagine please. Thank you !

Recently, I moved to New Orleans. I did so because I heard great things and I am not disappointed. I moved here right in Mardi Gras season so it was okay but it's been a couple of months now and the tingles of excitement thinking about living here is incredible. At this moment in time, I was walking my dog. Barney. He's a beautiful German Shepard, he's getting older now but he'll always be my baby. We were walking down bourbon street and I was looking at my phone to check the time when I bumped into a pristine looking man. I dropped my phone and started giggling nervously.

"I'm so sorry, sir."

I bent down to pick up my phone but as I did we bumped heads, seeming as he lowered to pick it up too. We both looked at each other and started laughing. It's like I came straight out of a high school romance movie.

"It's absolutely okay. I should've moved when I saw you on your phone. I couldn't help but be-and forgive me if I'm overstepping-but be captivatingly beautiful."

I couldn't stop or even stall the luminous red blush engulfing my cheeks. The wind picked up in time to cover my face with my Y/H/C coloured hair.

"Oh, uh thank you."

"Sorry I shouldn't of said it, that was out of line."

I giggled as he walked away.

"Wait ! It wasn't, I'm just not used to compliments from people I bump into on the street."

He looked down with his hands in his trouser pockets and blessed my Y/E/C eyes with his sweet and wide grin.

"Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Would you let me buy you a coffee ?"

I giggled and Barney started licking the man's hand.

"Barney ! Stop it baby."

He laughed.

"It's quite alright. So coffee ? We can have it to go if you'd like?"

I smiled and Barney sat down next to my legs.

"Uh yeah, that would be nice."

                                                         ***

"So you've bought me coffee and are walking around with me and I still don't know your name."

We laughed together.

"I apologise. My name's Elijah."

I looked at him in awe. His name was so beautiful and it matched his pristine look.

"I love your name, it's beautiful. My name's Y/N."

"Talk about beautiful names."

I looked away, again blushing. It made me smile so much because I always used to get picked on for my name despite loving it myself. It made me uncertain of the importance of self-love.

"Thank you, it means more than you may think."

We smiled and continued to walk in a serene silence.

"So, Elijah. When your not carelessly bumping into girls and dishing out compliments, what do you like to do ?"

He chuckled softly.

"I like to read a lot and I can cook when necessary."

This man becomes more intriguing by the second. I bet he's a great cook and the reading explains his extensive range of vocab.

"That's so cool, I cook and bake all the time. I love it so much and I don't read as much as I'd want but I like to sing."

"Oh yeah, do you sing for people ?"

"Uh sometimes, mainly special occasions like birthdays and stuff. I'm actually singing at my brother's wedding in a couple of months."

"Really, what a shame I don't get to see for myself your talent."

"I wouldn't really call it a big thing but I mean if it means that much. You seem nice so far, I was just gonna go stag but if you want to join me you can. It might be more fun if your there, I don't particularly love the women he's marrying so."

"That would be lovely. What's wrong with the woman?"

"Well, she's always stuck up around him you know. She licks his ass so much but whenever he's not around for a second she is the bitchiest most irritating girl in the world and not forgetting she's incredibly immature."

"Really, must be a irritating women then ?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

I looked up and realised that it's already quite dark out, which means I've spent a good couple of hours talking to Elijah. I told him where my apartment was and he left but not before exchanging numbers. That very night, I had no sleep because Elijah and I were texting all night.

In the morning, after still not getting any sleep. I had a text from Elijah just as I had finished brushing my teeth.

Elijah: Good morning Y/N! I hope your energised. How would you like to get lunch today ?- E.M

Reply: As energised as I can be, Elijah. I would love to get lunch today. I also need to get my dress for the wedding, help me pick ? Good morning by the way.

Elijah: Of course you do, trust you to not be prepared. I would be honoured to help you, I don't want to go to a complete stranger's wedding with my date looking like a tart.

Reply: Thank you Elijah. Self-confidence risen dramatically... what time do you want to meet ?

Elijah: I'll pick you up at 12:30.

Reply: Okay, see you then.

As soon as I sent my reply, I ran and jumped into the shower. I lathered my vanilla body wash all over my body and soaked my hair in cherry almond shampoo and conditioner. I hopped out and decided to leave my face free from makeup and put on a mask whilst getting ready. I quickly applied my charcoal face mask and started rooting through my wardrobe for some clothes. I looked at the clock and realised I only have 50 minutes to get ready. I decided to wear a sheet black crop top with coloured flowers on and flared sleeves along with a short denim skirt, brown ankle boots, some black tights and and brown bag to match my shoes.

I was just spraying some of my vanilla perfume when there was a knock at the door. My eyes shot to the clock and I watched as the clock turned 12:30. I opened the door to see him stood there with a warm smile on his face. I smiled back at him with just as much warmth.

"Hey Elijah. You weren't kidding when you said 12:30 were you ?"

He chuckled and straightened his posture more even if it was impossible to be standing any straighter than he already was. I get it now, he's a perfectionist.

"When I say a time, I mean it."

I giggled and shut the door, locking it behind me. I replied to his comment with a smirk on my face and walked off.

"I can see that, Mr Perfectionist."

He chuckled and followed me out. We we're taking a comfortably quiet stroll down bourbon street, not rushing to get to the mall.

"So Elijah, what is it ?"

He turned to me with slight confusion.

"What ever do you mean, Y/N?"

I could tell he was genuinely confused so I made the choice to elaborate. I turned my head to look at him with my arms crossed but still walking.

"You. The way you talk, your timing ? I mean your not just on time you were there in the second of it turning 12:30. How about that both times I've seen you, you've been wearing $10 000 suits. I mean we are going to lunch. Probably to get some pizza or sushi, not for a meal that costs like $300 take like one zero off that at least."

He looked shocked at me understandably so. I just called him out on practically everything that makes him Elijah. It's not that I have a problem with any of it. A man who has impeccable timing, amazing-expensive-but amazing dress sense and knows how to talk properly not "Sup baby, you busy tonight ?" The number of times that lines been used in me is incredible.

He looked at me with a prominent look of worry. Maybe I said the wrong thing, was I too blunt maybe ? Or he might think I don't like any of it. So I quickly decided to save myself.

"Before you think or even ask yourself if I don't like any of that, I do. I'm just not used to speaking to a man. Someone with great fashion sense, doesn't talk like in idiot and can actually pronounce and word things properly-in other words speaking actual english, someone who has manners, the looks, impeccable timing and knows how to charm a women. Your a women's dream I just didn't know you were so....dreamy."

A wide grin broke out on his face, with made me blush profusely. I saw the mall in front of us.

"Dreamy ? You have a way with words Miss Y/L/N. I apologise if I may have distracted you for being so dreamy."

I giggled and smacked his arm playfully.

"Hey it's not funny. Take the compliment or leave it, alright ? It just slipped out."

"Slipped out of your mouth or your dreams."

We started laughing together feeling more comfortable than when I had my curious outburst minutes ago.

We walked in the mall and I was lost for which shop to buy my dress in. I nudged Elijah's arm.

"You know any good shops to buy dresses ?"

I asked jokingly but to my surprise he dragged me into a shop I didn't see the name of. He stopped at the entrance and turned to me.

"We are going to do something because you have massively boosted my ego today unintentionally, I think. Your going to let me do something for you. To make sure you don't look like a tart is why I came with you, correct ?"

I nodded.

"Your are going to pick five dresses you like in this store and I am going to pick my favourite one and you have to wear it to the wedding, deal ?"

Not how I expected the day to go, being bossed around by a man who was a stranger not more than 2 days ago.

"How do you not have women lining up to be with you? As long as your this bossy in the bedroom, I will say deal to you as many times as you like."

I winked at him and walked further into the shop. Elijah stood there with a wide grin at the once innocent flirty comments turning rapidly less innocent and followed her.

Five. Five dresses is not hard to pick. Come on Y/n. Just one more. I stopped and looked around until I spotted the last one. I handed them to Elijah with a whispered comment as I walked out.

"One of those dresses are harder to get off then the rest I might need some assistance, make the right decision Mr Precision."

I waited outside for him to pick the dress. Minutes later he walked out of the shop with a wide grin on his face and a white paper bag that most likely has my dress in it.

"So ?"

He looked at me and winked.

"I made the right decision, don't you worry."

                                                        ***

We walked over to Rousseau's and I persuaded him to sit down and eat. When the food arrived he looked at me weirdly.

"I can't eat this, Y/N."

I giggled at him a rolled my eyes.

"What worried about getting grease on your $10 000 suit. Don't even tell me you don't like it, what's not to love about a big greasy burger and fries with a beer. Or do you only drink wine and eat lobster with caviar ?"

He chuckled at me and took his jacket off and placed it on the back of his chair. He unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up so they were now three quarters in length. The next thing I know is he's picking it up and taking a big bite of the burger whilst staring at me in the eyes to prove a point.

                                                          ***

A little while later after it's like 6 pm we decide to leave the bar and go back to my apartment. I unlock the door and hang my jacket up whilst throwing my keys on the worktop in the kitchen. I kick my shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen to look for some wine. Elijah follows me in a little later, having just taken his jacket off and hung it up.

"You look confused."

I'm rooting around in my pantry looking down my wine rack not finding the alcohol I wanted. Then the idea that it might be in the fridge popped into my head. I walked out of my pantry closing the door and opening my fridge finding the label staring at me in the face. I smiled and grabbed it before turning around and showing it to Elijah.

"I was trying to find this. A bottle of wine I was saving for when I had good company."

He grabbed the bottle out of my hands and inspected it, lastly he smirked.

"No wonder you saved it Y/N, this is an expensive wine. One they don't even sell in the United States. What did you do? Go on holiday and smuggle a bottle of rare and incredibly expensive wine back here ?"

"I guess you could say that but I didn't buy it...I won it. In a game of poker on my 26th birthday, I lived in Italy with my family and it was a bottle that was made the year I was born and my mother saved up for it and bought it. My dad annoyed her buy using it as a prize for our game of poker, he said it was pure luck just because it was made on my birthday. $6 863. That's the total cost."

"So your Italian ?"

I giggled and grabbed two glasses.

"Si signore."

He chuckled and followed me into the living room. I threw myself on the couch and sat upright so I could pour the wine.

"So you've juiced everything interesting out of me. What about you ?"

"The only interesting thing about me is my family I suppose. I have two older siblings and four younger siblings."

"Tell me about them."

"Okay. There's my eldest sister Freya she's 34; 5 years older than me. She's quite sweet but she was more of a long distance sibling for a while.Finn who's 33, we're not especially close. Niklaus or Klaus as he prefers, he's 25 and a menace all of the time consistently getting on my nerves. He's 4 years younger than me. Then Kol who is worse than Klaus, he's the most menacing of us all and an irritatingly common flirt even at 24.My youngest sister Rebekah, 17 and she's always had a flair for the dramatics, always looking for love. Then Henrik, who was 11 when he died. None of us really knew a lot about him except Klaus, he was the closest to him."

I widened my eyes and polished off my third glass of wine already. I put my hand on his, I leant forward a touch to pour more wine.

"I apologise for your loss. But, also for your seemingly irritant siblings."

"It's quite alright."

I grabbed his glass and placed the glasses down on the table and I felt my arm being dragged back and when looking forward, I noticed the close proximity of Elijah and I. Mere centimetres away we sat staring into each other's eyes with curiosity. I couldn't help but feel intimidated by the lingering stare he had on me and also slightly exhilarated. Swiftly our noses touched ever so slightly. It made it impossible to pull away like I probably should have. He leant forward some more making the pressure on our noses more noticeable and so suddenly his small soft lips reached for mine in a gentle peck. Our eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed from the feeling a small kiss could make us feel. It was a foreign feeling, feeling this way from a kiss.

He gradually moved away a little and looked at me in the eyes. I didn't know what to say. His hands slowly raised and stroked the sides of my face before leaning in and giving me a quick peck. Just after he allowed me to cuddle into his side to watch a movie, I'd put on in the background when we sat down.

                                                       ***

A couple of months later, we are still going strong. Elijah and I actually have the wedding to go to today, we flew out with his brothers unfortunately so we couldn't have much personal time. I am excited about seeing my dress though, I haven't seen it since when I picked the 5 dresses out at that store, I can't even remember what they all looked like.

I opened the bag and I pulled out a beautiful baby blue halter neck dress that will hug my body tightly, no wonder he liked it and of course it was the one with the zip. I actually will need help later now.

I decided to start getting ready and then spotting the lingerie he threw in there as well.

These last few months have been a dream. I have not been this happy for years. Elijah's perfect, yes we have a few differences that haven't been great to deal with but we've made it through and he makes me feel i'm living in my dream.

                                                        ***

I walked out of the bathroom that I was getting ready in to see Elijah drinking a glass of wine on the bed.

"Babe it's 11 am, why are you drinking wine ?"

He jumped up and spat it out on the floor, unfortunately it was red wine. My eyes widened as I saw it immediately stain the floor.

"Lijah ! This is a hotel room, we aren't at home."

He shook his bed and fell on the floor on his knees, eyes still widened.

"Elijah. What's wrong with you, baby ?"

He shook his head and helped me scrub the floor. We are most definitely going to be late for this wedding. As I was squirting soap on the floor I hear a knock. I get up, leaving Elijah on the floor. I open the door to greet the brothers. They walked in and followed me to the bedroom where Elijah was still on the floor.

"Elijah mate, why are you on the floor ?"

He just continued to stare off. They looked at me and I shrugged.

"I don't know what happened. I walked out the bathroom, he spark his wine on the floor. Now we have to explain why we've stained their carpet."

                                                          ***

We are greeting other guests and trying to find my brother. When I spot him he walks over. He hugs me and spins me around.

"God I missed you Y/N !"

"I missed you too Y/B/N, like you wouldn't believe. I would like to introduce you to some people I bought. This is Elijah, my boyfriend and has been for a couple of months now and-"

I introduced Elijah who was back to normal after I gave him a kiss apparently it was because I looked so beautiful. I cut myself off when going to introduce the brothers because when I looked over at them. They were the only two causing trouble, Kol was consistently flirting with married women and Klaus threatening people.

"and that's it. They are NOT with us."

Elijah and I looked at each other and he nodded. I rolled my eyes and walked over to the brothers, grabbing them by the wrists and dragging them over.

"Y/B/N these are Elijah's brothers. Kol and Klaus."

"Nice to meet you all, it's a shame I can't talk more to Elijah. I guess it's hard to talk to him when your sister doesn't tell you about him."

I looked down to the floor and back up innocently.

"I love you."

"I love you too. Right, we need to start getting ready."

"Okay go."

                                                        ***

Flashback

I was sitting nervously on a couch at Elijah's House when he walks in with two good looking gentlemen.

"Y/N my darling, I would like for you to meet my brothers Kol and Niklaus."

"Call me Klaus. All my friends do."

He grabs my hand and kisses it. I blushed hard before most fortunately it disappeared, very quickly.

Kol walks closer and kisses me on the cheek and as he pulls away winks. Unfortunately, the blushed arose. Once again.

"Nice to meet you darling."

They are all insanely charming and flirtatious, it's nerve racking. No wonder, why they have so many female admirers.

                                                         ***

I remember how different the greetings were for me and my brother. They were more chilled with my brother although still mischievous, yet with me it was flirtatious and misbehaving.

I can live with it now though. The flirtatiousness, I get enough from Elijah so I'm used to it. Kol and Klaus now are more comedic in my eyes with their fake sentiments of love for me, annoying Elijah and even bursting into our room after I've taken a shower to see if they scare me enough to drop my towel. Although, that's more Kol.

All I can say is, I'm way more comfortable with them now and I couldn't be happier to know that Elijah and I are going to last, a gut feeling tells me so.

OUTFIT

MASTERLIST

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Oh My God They Were Roommates! Just Roommates

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, smoking, breakdowns and lactose intolerance.

Characters: aro!Bucky ace!Loki (also genderfuid)

Summary: After the end of the Avengers, some kept fighting and some retired. Bucky was too tired to keep going, and he wanted the normal life. But he didn't expect the God of Mischief asking for the same thing

Notes: I made the Bingo! This was so tough to write but I really love the results!

Read On AO3

The Avengers are now in the past, after the Big Battle with Thanos. Some have gone offworld, some keep fighting and some just stop and try to leave a normal life. They are too tired to keep fighting. And Bucky is one of them.

After the battle, and after Steve handed his legacy over Sam, Bucky promised himself a normal and calm life. Sam respected it and asked for no help, even if things go bad. He pays a visit once a week and stays in touch.

Bucky now works in a small coffeeshop, and rents a small apartment. It's simple and cozy, he likes it. And he likes his simple life with his friendly co-workers and nice customers and he even gets laid if he's lucky enough. He falls in love with this kind of life.

One day, on a rainy night of November, he hears a knock on the door. He doesn't bother fetching his metal hand as he crosses the room and opens it.

And he finds Loki outside, wet and shivering. He never liked rain, says that water can compromise his cold resistance.

"Come in, you must be freezing," Bucky opens the door and moves aside. Loki nods and smiles, kicking his boots out after his feet meet the carpet.

And Loki never mentions Asgard. They didn't mention it as much before Ragnarok, but now they act as if it never existed. And suddenly, they make traditional soups.

"Th-thank you…" Loki smiles.

"Don't mention it. Take that thing on, will ya? Settle near the radiator, over the couch, I'll make you something warm to drink, okay?" Bucky replies, pointing at the soaking wet coat Loki's wearing. He makes a small nod and does as he was told, watching Bucky as he fetches his hand and heads to the kitchen. He knows that he shouldn't give him tea or coffee, it's quite late and Loki's an insomniac, so he settles down with chocolate. Well, he has a big sweet tooth, why not enjoy a nice warm cup of chocolate?

He goes back to the couch, smiling just a bit when he sees Loki covered with the blanket like a burrito. Loki takes the cup, holding it to warm up his hands before he takes a long sip.

"Th-thank you, it's q-q-quite g-good," He smiles, his shivering chin making his stutter appear.

"Again, don't mention it. What brought you here?" Bucky relaxes on the other side of the couch, his eyes on Loki. Last time he remembers, Loki was fighting.

"I couldn't move past Tony… it, it went bad, even when I was fighting. All nightmares and flashbacks and I… I think it's killing me. I wanna get out of this, retire. It's just too much, I can't take it anymore," He admits, his voice trembling again but not because of the cold. Bucky reaches out to his hand, a tight grip on it with his fleshed limp. And Loki leaves a small smile.

"And, I thought if you could use a roommate…" He finishes his answer.

"To be honest, it does get a bit boring without some idiots yelling at toasters," Bucky smiles.

"Bread should not be flying!" Loki spits, and Bucky laughs at it. But Loki also lets his lips twist upwards.

"You can stay for how long you want. But we will have to get a bigger apartment, this one has only one bedroom," Bucky answers.

"Let me rest for tonight and it will have a second bedroom tomorrow," Loki eyes the former soldier. He almost forgets about his magic. "But I can settle down on the couch tonight, it's comfy," He smiles. Bucky smiles too, he really doesn't feel like abandoning the apartment, he worked so hard to make it the way it is.

And they start to catch up with each other, while they have the energy to stay up. But they both grow tired and end up muttering goodnight and going to sleep.

For Bucky, it was a normal Saturday sleep, when he knows his alarm clock won't wake him up. But Loki hadn't slept with such peacefulness since Tony died.

~~~

"WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU PUT MY HAIRBRUSH?" Bucky yells from the bathroom.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I TAKE YOUR HAIRBRUSH? I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW YOU BRUSH THIS SHIT UNTIL NOW!" Loki yells back from the kitchen.

"LISTEN HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT. IF YOU EVER DISRESPECT MY HAIR LIKE THA- Nevermind, I found it," Bucky mutters the last few words. And Loki hears him perfectly. Because they are 7 feet apart. They didn't need to yell at each other.

"Good for you. Now stop blaming me whenever you lose something," Loki answers, waiting for the soldier to appear on their viewing field. And he did. But they now sigh and pay more attention to the food they're cooking.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Bucky hums, Loki making only a throaty sound as an answer. "What're you making? It smells nice," He asks, moving towards the kitchen to peek at the pot.

"It's a traditional stew on Asgard, you'll see," Loki smiles, but actually means "no peeking until I'm done".

Usually, Bucky was the one doing the cooking. Loki is a better cook, they use a lot of seasoning and know which one goes where, but they don't like it as much. In fact, Bucky can swear they only cook when stressed, as if they try to distract themselves with the smell of whatever they throw into the food.

And they basically talk through the night, with interruptions when Loki is rushing to the bathroom and returning like they had to give birth over there. At least until they both grow tired and fall asleep, right beside to each other. For the first time in days, no screaming and waking up in the middle of the night occurs.

Bucky sighs, trying to find something else to focus on. Something other than Loki's odd behaviour the last days, with the ongoing silence and numbness. Other than the sudden Æsir cooking. Other than the smoking they pretend it doesn't happen, like Bucky doesn't recognize the smell of tobacco in them. Something other than the screaming he hears in the middle of the night and knows that he can't help because Loki tends to lean towards the fight response and Bucky cannot fight back without hurting them.

And he knows where those things lead to. It's not the first time that Loki started going south after Tony. And the previous one was ugly, by all means. What if this one turns out to be ugly too?

"What are you thinking of?" Loki asks, their voice carefully soft. Bucky tries to appear calm, it's not worth worrying Loki too.

"Nothing special…" He shrugs, avoiding eye contact. But he hears Loki sighing and moving the pot before they walk on the couch and sit beside him.

"Is that why you are so worried? Come on, speak it up. Weren't you saying that we should talk about what is bothering us?" They are still soft, like Bucky's the elephant in the room. They were always like this, prefer to soothe others than speak about their issues.

"I'm just worried…" Bucky admits. This will not end pretty…

"Do you want to say what is worrying you?" Loki sits closer, big green eyes staring at him. The dark circles that start creeping around them making them brighter.

"Nah, it's not worth it…" Bucky regrets it and stares elsewhere, gazing at the asexual and aromatic flags hanging on the doors of the two bedrooms. And Loki makes a small tutting sound.

"You can just say you don't feel like talking, lies weren't needed," They argue.

"Says the god of them," Bucky thinks out loud. He shouldn't have said that.

The room gets cold, something Bucky knows is happening because Loki loses some control of their Frostbite when overwhelmed. They stand up and go back to the kitchen, speaking only to inform him that the dinner is ready with a dead voice.

Bucky follows them with hesitance, waiting for them to fill a bowl with the brownish stew before he serves himself and settles on the chair opposite to them.

The stew is nice. The taste of meat is strong and the seasoning makes it kind of sweet. Not exactly Bucky's taste, but he doesn't mind it. Loki plays with the pieces of meat inside it, his right hand holding his head.

"It's nice," He mutters, hoping he can make a small smile appear.

"It's shit," Loki argues, letting the spoon fall on the bowl as they stare at it with disgust. And then, they cover their face with their hands, their rapid breathing echoing.

"Hey, it's just some stew," Bucky tries to soothe them down but they stand up and pace to their room, the door slammed behind them. Bucky wants to follow, walk in and hug them tight and soothe them down. But it's wiser to give them some space.

He tries to finish his own meal, but his appetite is long gone. So, he empties the bowls back in the pot and washes the dishes, trying to think of what to do. He can already feel the apartment going colder and colder, and it's never a good thing.

Maybe if he finds something to cheer up Loki? They like sweets, maybe a cake. Thank God there's a candy store down the road, it will be maybe ten minutes on foot.

Loki doesn't react when Bucky opens the door and leaves, they probably don't even care. Bucky's lucky enough to find a dark chocolate cake, their favourite flavor, and it's cheap enough to buy it. And Loki is still locked in the room when he returns with the dessert.

"Hey, can you please let me in. Just wanna check on ya, you know," Bucky knocks the door. The handle twists and the door opens after a blanket of frost covers it. But, Loki's magic is like a green light that acts like smoke…

Loki is sitting on the corner of the bed, the room around them covered with a thin layer of ice. They have dropped every illusion, even the Æsir one. They do it plenty of times in an attempt to get used to it, or when they can't control the seiðr. They smile just so, fags showing, as they light out a smoke on an ashtray.

"Will you stand there?" They ask, voice dead. There are no tears in their ruby eyes, not trembling from the crying. They just look numb.

Bucky nods and sits on the other side of the bed, placing the box in front of him and a fork above it. "I thought you would like some cake…" He hums, inspecting Loki as they glance at the box.

"Thank you," They try to smile but their face disagrees. They take the box to their lap and open it, frost appearing on the paper that touches him and the fork.

"So, do you feel like speaking?" Bucky asks. They hate showing it, but they love talking and it actually helps them a lot.

"It's just some homesickness. Don't worry, it will pass…" They shrug one shoulder and take a bite of the cake. Their lips twist upwards, a good sign, and they place the box between them and Bucky, a second fork appearing in their hand.

"Oh, thank you," Bucky smiles and takes it, not minding the freezing cold of Bucky's skin. "So, it's about Asgard or the Avengers," He asks.

"Kind of both, somehow… and, it's also the nightmares, as usual. But they're manageable," They lie. After years with them, Bucky knows when they lie. And, most important, he knows when to demand the truth and when not.

"Well, if you feel like it will help, you can come over for snuggles and emotional support." He suggests. Loki smiles and nods, staying silent as they focus on the cake. Can you blame them? They haven't eaten properly for days. But Bucky does give them a look when he realises how fast they devoured the dessert.

"Wait, did you ask for lactose free?" They ask, after making the box vanish. And Bucky forgot to ask.

"Shouldn't you also ask before you eat the whole thing?" He also asks, his worry about how much Loki's small intestine shall suffer tonight growing.

"So, we are both idiots," Loki comes to a conclusion, finding Bucky agreeing.

"Basically, yes… and, I think I should suffer with you tonight, right?" He asks.

"Definitely, just lay near the wall, you don't want to be between me and the toilet," They respond, freeing the space of the bed they meant. Bucky got his metal hand out, he doesn't like sleeping with it on, and lay where he was instructed to, Loki laying beside him.

[shawnpetermuffins]

In Case You Didn't Know

(Based off In Case You Didn't Know by Brett Young)

Summary: Shawn's so in love with you, but he doesn't know how to say it.

A/n: this is all over the place, theres time jumps and flashbacks and no real distinction between them, so yeah. I actually really like this song and I might end up writing some more stories based off songs, so let me know if you want that.

Requested: no

Warnings: just fluff

***

I can't count the times / I almost said what's on my mind / but I didn't

She's sleeping soundly on the couch, head laying on the arm rest, blanket up to her shoulders. She's absolutely beautiful, I think to myself. Her hair falls messily in her face, lips parted with a soft snore, and even though she's covered, I know her arms are wrapped around her middle in an attempt to keep warm in this arctic apartment of mine. I make a mental note to turn on the heater after I take her up to bed. She couldn’t even make it through half of the movie before her eyes became heavy, and if I was interested in watching the movie, I wouldn’t have even noticed, but I was watching her the whole time. It’s the first time I’ve been able to see her this way, completely exhausted from studying for her exams, hair a mess, face bare and slightly red and blotchy from stress crying.

I want so badly to wake her sleeping figure and tell her to just quit, come on the road with me for the second leg of tour. I’ll take care of everything; I’ll take care of her. Anything she wants, it’s hers, no questions asked. But I can’t tell her that. Because no matter how stressed she is now, I know it doesn’t change how incandescently happy she is when she talks about her favorite class, her favorite professor. The way she talks about all the things she’s going to change when she finishes school.

Just the other day / wrote down all the things I’d say / but I couldn’t / I just couldn’t

Being with her only a few months, eight to be exact, I keep finding myself refraining from telling her how I feel. And I know that being on tour for six out of the eight months we’ve been together is definitely taking a toll on her, and me too. I’m never here when she needs me, and to see her the way she is right now, I know that I can’t keep these feelings from her much longer.

Because if she’s crying over a test that she’s about to take when I am here, I’m scared to know what she cries about when I’m not. Does she cry about me? About me not being here? When I left before, she held in the tears - so did I - but we’d only been together a month. Maybe she didn’t want to seem too attached. I know I didn’t, but Brian knows how much leaving her put me in this week long funk. I called and texted her constantly until I realized that doing that only made it even harder to be away from her. So I calmed a bit, not by choice, but by necessity.

Seeing her sleeping so peacefully, now curled in my sheets, hugging my pillow, I can’t help but smile. I could write a million songs just about this moments alone, and that’s exactly what I go back to the living room to do. To write yet another song about the girl in my bed, hoping and praying that she’ll still be there come daybreak.

Baby I know that you’ve been wondering / mmm, so here goes nothing / in case you didn’t know / baby I’m crazy ‘bout you

Sheets of paper litter the top of the piano, the coffee table, literally any surface that was once clear isn't now. I'm scribbling out a new lyric, and start strumming the melody that's been stuck in my head since she fell asleep next to me.

My mind is a jumbled mess. She has me feeling every possible emotion and I can't convey it in just one song. So every new idea gets written down and I hope I'll find a place for it in another song later. I'm going crazy, my mind working faster than my hand can write, and the song doesn't sound right with the guitar riff, but then it doesn't sound right with the piano. It's all wrong. None of it is good enough for her and I need it to be good enough.

And I would be lying if I said that I could live this life without you / even though / I don't tell you all the time / You had my heart a long, long time ago / in case you didn't know

I know it hasn't even been a year and I sound like a love sick puppy. And that if you ask anyone that doesn't know me personally, they'd say that this relationship is all for show. That I'm doing it for the publicity. That she's getting paid. None of it's true.

She's everything I have ever wanted. Ever needed. And its so hard for me to think back to even just nine months ago. I wonder how I did anything before her. How did I cope with my anxiety when she wasn't there coaxing me through it, lulling me back to reality and not the fucked up place my mind always wandered to?

If I can't think back to nine months ago, before she became my everything, how am I supposed to look forward and not see her in every possible situation that I could be put it?

The way you look tonight / that second glass of wine / that did it, mmm

Dinner at her apartment is everything. Except she won't let me actually cook. She's scared I'll burn the building down. Which, to be fair, could very well happen. So I'm only allowed to cut things, and of course pour her wine. She's stirring the rice while I sit at the little bar area, head resting in my hand while I stare lovingly at her. Her cheeks are slightly pink from both the heat from the stove and from the glass of red she's sipping from.

"You're staring," she says softly, and looks over at me.

I clear my throat and look down at my half empty glass, "Sorry. Can't help it. You're just so pretty."

She looked down at her outfit, and squinted skeptically at me. "Jeans and a two-sizes-too-big flannel? Oh yeah, I'm sure I look real cute," she replies sarcastically, with a disbelieving eye roll.

"You do," I say, matter-of-factly. "With you hair pulled up like that," I gesture to pony tail that was currently falling because she didn't wrap the rubber band around enough. "And your eyes just being as beautiful and bright as ever. How could I not stare at you forever?"

This causes her to become even more red, if that's possible, and I pull out my phone, swiftly snapping a picture of her because she is just so pretty and I want to see her like this forever.

"Stop it!" She whines, turning away from me.

"But you look so cute," I say, turning my phone around so she can see the vibrant blush on her cheeks.

She just shakes her head and takes another sip. I can't help but watch the way her lips curve around the lip of the glass, and my whole body tingles at the promise of those lips touching mine later.

There was something 'bout that kiss/ girl it did me in / got me thinking / I've been thinking

I pull her body close to mine when she puts the dishes in the sink. "Thank you for tonight," I mumble into her shoulder.

She hums and her hands cover mine on her stomach. "You're welcome bub. So glad you could make some time for a meal this week. I was starting to think you didn't eat," she says teasingly.

I manage a small apology, pressing my lips to the soft skin of her collar bone. I know I've been literally everywhere but with her this week and it's been killing me. But even just a night like this was enough to make me forget about all my stress up to this point.

She turns her head to face me and plays with my currently overfluffy curls. "I adore you, my little rockstar," she whispered into my hair.

I look up at her with a sleepy smile and hooded eyes. I only have a second to react before her lips press to mine in a soft, passionate kiss. And all I can think is that I could stay this way for the rest of my life and never get tired of the feel of her lips.

One of those things that I've been feeling / mmm, it's time you hear 'em

I'm still watching her as we wash the dishes together. She's washing, I'm drying. It's the simplest of systems, but it's also so domesticated and it makes me sad knowing that I can't give her that domestic life one day. Husband a d kids, nice suburban home to come to every night. I'm traveling too often to give her that simple life that she so desperately deserves, even though she's told me before that she doesn't care about that.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asks after washing the last plate, handing it to me. I smile sheepishly at the way she's leaning against the counter, one leg crossed in front of the other, hands playing with the neck of her shirt.

I finish drying the plate before I speak. I place the towel I was holding on the counter and reach for her hands. "Can I tell you something, pumpkin?"

You've got all of me / I belong to you / yeah you're my everything / in case you didn't know

"Anything," she squeezes my hands reassuringly.

I can't look into her eyes, so I stare at our linked hands and sigh contently at the feel of her small, soft, cold hands in my large, calloused, hot hands. I don't know why telling her this is so hard for me, it shouldn't be. I write about love all the time.

But I've never felt it. Not like this. Not when my heart feels like it's literally about to burst out of my chest when she smiles at me. Not when I can't help but stumble on my way to her because I'm staring so hard that I trip over my own feet. Not when an interviewer asks me what my favorite thing about going home is and my immediate thought is her. She's my home. Whether we live together or not. She's it. She's my everything and that's fucking terrifying. I never thought I would become this dependent on someone else.

"Bub, what's going on inside that beautiful head of yours?" She asks, breaking me from my own thoughts, trying to catch my eye.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat and finally meet her intense gaze. If I had to decipher what that look meant, I'd say she was looking at me the same way I look at her. With that endless amount of love, lust, compassion, and adoration that my expression hopefully conveys. Why she chose me of all the people to be with, I'll never know. But she did. So I say it.

"I love you," I finally manage to say, but it's so low I don't even know if she heard me.

She doesn't respond for a while and I'm searching her face for any sign that it'll give me, saying that I crossed a line, that we weren't ready. But just as I'm opening my mouth to apologize, her lips cover mine, tongue slipping effortlessly into my mouth. And I hold her body tight against me, so tight I don't think she can breathe properly, but she makes no move to leave my arms and I have no intention of letting her go. So I hold her while we kiss under the harsh light of her kitchen and I let out a low whimper when she goes to ultimately pull away.

"Say it again," she begs.

And I do, kissing her cheek. "I love you." Her nose, "I love you." Her forehead, "I love you." And finally, once again. Her lips. "I love you."

She sighs, eyes fluttering shut while her fingers trace my jaw and then the curves of my mouth, my nose. "I love you, too." She kisses both of my eyelids before she says it again. "I love you so much."

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @bbellbagel @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste

I've literally been writing this since February and it's not even the way I wanted it 🤷‍♀️ but I hope you guys enjoyed reading it. A little fluff to counteract with the angst I gave y'all on Wednesday.

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙

[echoes-of-realities]

be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe) - 6/25

* * *

[From the Start] // [Fanfiction] // [ao3]

[Previous Chapter] // [Next Chapter]

Chapter Summary: Brittany’s never believed theatre rumours; Brittany really doesn’t like bullies.

Notes: Warning for minor homophobia

Chapter 6: sure we'll be laughed at, but we all know

///

Brittany wakes up to the faint smell of bacon and hash-browns. She’s disorientated for a second, wondering how in the world her window managed to change walls in the middle of the night and when her pale yellow sheets turned grey, before she realizes that she’s curled up in Mercedes’ bed, the afghan that’s usually draped over the foot of the bed tangled around her shoulders under the comforter. The skin of her face feels raw and tight, the kind of tightness that comes from not wiping away her tears before falling asleep, and she’s somehow still exhausted despite her deep, dreamless sleep. She can hear Mercedes in the kitchen, frying pans knocking together and the kettle screaming, and Brittany sighs and buries her face in one of the pillows thrown around the head of the bed; it smells like Mercedes’ lavender shampoo, and a hint of Sam’s cologne and her own honeysuckle and jasmine body wash from when they all have movie nights and curl up in Mercedes’ room because she has the comfiest mattress. Brittany breathes in deeply, hoping the scents she’s always associated with her best friends will soothe her.

It doesn’t really manage to take her mind off Lord Tubbington though.

The door eases open and Brittany can tell Mercedes is hovering in the doorway, debating whether to wake Brittany or let her sleep.

“Morning,” Brittany croaks, making the decision for her.

Mercedes sighs, so softly that Brittany barely hears it, and crosses the room, settling on the bed somewhere by Brittany’s hip. She hesitates for a moment, but before Brittany can say anything, her warm body is pressing to Brittany in a fierce hug; she smells of breakfast food and coffee and clean from her morning shower. Brittany sighs and sinks back into the embrace. “How are you feeling?” Mercedes whispers.

Brittany manages a little shrug. “I dunno. Sad and, like, empty, I guess. Like when you’re really, really hungry in the middle of the night and you can feel how empty your stomach is empty, except everywhere.”

Mercedes nuzzles closer, and Brittany can picture her face, her brows drawn a little together and the skin around her mouth tight. “I’m so sorry, Britt-Britt,” she whispers.

“Thanks,” Brittany mumbles.

Mercedes is quiet for a moment while Brittany stares blankly out the window. It’s surprisingly clear out, sunbeams streaming through the thin curtains and making swirling patterns on the carpet. “You could take the day off,” Mercedes suggests finally.

Brittany shrugs. “I dunno,” she mumbles, “I just want the day to be normal, you know?” Mercedes hums against her shoulder in acknowledgement. “Besides, dancing always helps me forget about everything, and I kinda need that right now, you know?”

Mercedes hums again, and Brittany sighs. She doesn’t really feel teary anymore, just tired and empty and lonely, even with Mercedes pressing comfortingly all along her back, breathing in sync with her. Eventually Mercedes crawls off the bed and tugs Brittany up after her, and they both follow their noses back to the kitchen where Mercedes has breakfast set up all along the counter, a mug of steaming hot chocolate sitting in front of Brittany’s stool at the kitchen island, whipped cream piled so high it hasn’t even melted all the way in yet. Brittany smiles at Mercedes’ back, feeling warmth curl in her chest, grateful that she has a best friend who knows her so well. They dish up breakfast quietly before settling into their usual spots breakfast spots and eat in comfortable silence.

“I forgot to ask last night, because of— Everything,” Mercedes finally says, “But how did you get home? I didn’t realize my phone was on silent until this morning and I’m so sorry if you tried to call me for a ride.”

“Oh, no it’s fine,” Brittany shrugs a little and pokes at her eggs, “Santana and I shared an Uber home.” She points to the southeast, where their front door is, with a forkful of eggs. “She lives like ten-ish minutes that way.”

“That’s nice of her,” Mercedes says, smiling just a little bit at Brittany.

Brittany feels the corner of her lip turn up in return, just a little bit, and the ache in her chest eases at the warm smile on Mercedes face. “Yeah,” she says simply.

Mercedes hums and, despite the slight smirk tugging on her lips, she remains silent. Brittany insists on cleaning up since Mercedes did all the cooking, before she heads to her room and calls her mom. Her mom puts her on speakerphone with her dad and her sister, and they spend most of the morning reminiscing on Lord Tubbington’s antics. By the end of it Brittany finds herself feeling a little bit better; talking about how much they all loved Tubbs and laughing about how many times food would suddenly go missing and Tubbs would suddenly get fatter makes her feel lighter, until the ache behind her eyes is almost gone. And when Mercedes knocks quietly on her door so they can head to the theatre, Brittany doesn’t feel quite so alone anymore.

//

Mercedes has to go talk to Kurt about something as soon as they get there, so Brittany ends up wandering the theatre by herself after they check in at the call board. She stops in at her favourite rehearsal room in the hopes that she can blast some music and forget about everything for a little while before she has to start warm ups with the company, but instead finds Jake and Jane practicing the Pas de Deux from the second act. They call out greetings to her and she waves at them before heading back the way she came.

“Hey, Brittany!”

Brittany glances over her shoulder and finds Puck coming up behind her, his arms full of props. “Hey,” she greets quietly.

“Do you mind giving me a hand?” he asks, and Brittany quickly relieves him of the box blocking his view. “Thanks,” he pants, “I thought I could do it all in one trip, but I don’t want Lopez seeing me and going all crazy spicy Latina on me again for dropping something like she did last time.”

Brittany’s nose wrinkles up. “That’s racist,” she says idly.

Puck doesn’t seem to have heard her; he never does when she calls him out on something. “Speaking of Lopez, did you hear?” he asks, obnoxiously waggling his eyebrows at her. Brittany frowns at him; he looks a little bit like a cartoon character, struggling to see past the props still in his arms, his dumb mohawk stuck to his sweaty forehead, a smirk tugging at his lips that Brittany recognizes as the lecherous leer he gets whenever a new dancer—especially those without any knowledge of his reputation—joins the company. “There’s a rumour going around that she plays for the other team, if you know what I mean,” he says in a stage whisper.

“I’m pretty sure she only works here,” Brittany says tiredly, “it’s part of her contract.”

“Not like her job, Brittany,” Puck explains slowly, and because Brittany is trailing behind him to fit through the entryway that leads to one of the back hallways of the theatre, he doesn’t see her roll her eyes. “Like who she takes to bed type of team.”

Brittany’s not quite sure what to say to that, not because she thinks of Santana any differently now, but because she’s pretty sure this is not something Santana wants floating around the theatre; despite working in the arts, Brittany’s encountered a surprising amount of homophobia, and something about Puck’s leer makes Brittany’s skin crawl.

“Did you hear me?” Puck asks, looking around a candy cane prop blocking his view so he can catch Brittany’s eye, it kind of makes Brittany want to take said candy cane and start beating him with it.

“Yeah, I’m just trying to process how gross you are.”

Puck smirks. “What can I say? Lopez is hot, I’m sure she has hot taste in women, and I like hot things.”

The urge to beat him with the candy cane is growing almost too strong to ignore now; Brittany’s never been particularly prone to violence, and she’s not sure if it’s her grief over Lord Tubbington messing with her emotions, the fact that she likes Santana and hates that there’s already rumours going around about her, the fact that she hates bullies, or some combination of all three, but she’s pretty sure if they don’t reach the prop room soon she’s going to snap.

“Wow,” Brittany says slowly, “You might just be the dumbest person on Earth.”

Puck just shrugs. “Maybe,” he agrees easily, smirking, “But I heard it from Finn who heard it from Santana herself.”

“Why was Santana talking to Finn?” Brittany wonders aloud. Finn’s half-way decent about thirteen percent of the time, and Brittany’s pretty sure his partial decency only exists because he sleeps about thirteen percent of the time.

“She wasn’t, he was down in the principal hallway bringing some extra Christmas ornaments up from storage and he overheard Lopez and Tina talking. Tina was asking if Lopez had been on any dates lately,” Puck pauses until Brittany glances at him before he finishes, delighted like a kid waiting up for Santa on Christmas Eve, “With a girl.”

Brittany shrugs. “Your point?”

“With a girl,” he emphasizes, a far off look in his eyes that makes Brittany feel like she needs a shower, “Like a lesbian.”

“Puck that’s gross,” Brittany says.

“No, it’s hot,” he leers.

Brittany scowls at him. “No, I mean you’re gross for being a creep.”

Puck shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a guy.” Brittany dumps the box she’s carrying on top of the pile in Puck’s hands, making him stagger under the unexpected weight. “Hey! I thought you were helping!”

Brittany just shrugs as she spins on her heel and walks back the way they came. “I don’t really think I can provide the help you need,” she deadpans over her shoulder.

//

She doesn’t see Santana at all before the show, not even for notes, but she hears the whispers of gossip that Puck mentioned as she heads for the stage during intermission. It makes her blood boil, especially after last night because her emotions are still a little all over the place. She can feel the angry creeping along her fingers and sticking to her stomach, and she can’t quite control the scowl she gives some of the snow corps as she walks past them; they’re the group who is almost always at the root of any rumour.

But before she can do more than glare at them for their whispers, she’s running into something warm and solid and groaning. Her hands automatically reach out to steady the source of the groaning, and then deep, dark eyes are locking on her own.

“Brittany,” Santana says breathlessly, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Brittany easily shrugs, searching Santana’s face for any sign she’s heard the rumours about herself, but Santana’s face is only open and warm and concerned. Brittany suddenly realizes that her hands are still on Santana’s shoulders and she hurriedly pulls them back to her, playing with the hem of her tutu. Santana quickly pushes her headset off of her ears until it’s hanging around her neck, giving Brittany her full attention; it makes Brittany feel vulnerable and important, because she can hear the tinny sound of voices through the headset, but Santana barely seems to notice them. “How are you?” Santana asks, her voice quiet and more tender than Brittany’s ever heard someone’s voice go.

That sharp ache of pain arcs through Brittany’s chest, but she manages a small smile. “I’m good,” she says.

Santana’s face changes a little bit, like she doesn’t quite believe Brittany but doesn’t want to say anything. She leans closer, her voice even quieter. “It’s okay if you’re not,” she whispers, “I get it. I would have understood if you hadn’t come in today.”

Brittany’s breath catches a little bit, like someone reached into her chest and squeezed, and she’s suddenly blinking back tears. “I wanted something normal today,” she finally admits, “You know, to keep my mind off it.”

Santana’s hand suddenly brushes over hers, and the ache in Brittany’s chest eases just a little bit at the gentle squeeze of Santana’s fingers around hers. “I get that,” she murmurs. Brittany’s eyes catch in the deepest groove of Santana’s for a moment and Brittany can see exactly how true Santana’s words are; Brittany’s a little glad when Santana’s eyes dart away because those dark eyes make her feel like a little bit like she’s free falling from an airplane without a parachute, a little bit dangerous and a little bit scary and a whole lot exhilarating. “But if you need anything,” Santana continues, shrugging a little, “Time off or a hug or a friend, I’m good for any of it.”

“Thank you,” Brittany whispers, desperately ignoring the prickle she can still feel behind her eyes. Mercedes already had to help her reapply her makeup once today, and Brittany’s due on stage too soon for her to reapply it again.

Santana seems to realize this and her fingers slide across Brittany’s wrist as she pulls back a little bit; Brittany suddenly realizes she can breathe properly again without ever realizing her breath was caught in her chest in the first place. “Are you up for notes after the show?” Santana asks.

“Oh yeah, you didn’t come for notes earlier,” Brittany says, her question implied rather than outright asked.

Santana rolls her eyes so hard she tosses her head back a little, and Brittany bites her lip at how cute the gesture is. “Yeah, Puck tried to take all the props down in one trip, like a dumbass, and dropped them, of course, and broke a bunch of them. I swear to god this is the only prop department I’ve ever worked with that isn’t completely anal about taking care of the props, but nope, he just cost the company a couple hundred dollars.” Brittany smirks at the image that rises to her mind; she’s not sure if she necessarily believes in karma, but she can definitely admire its handiwork. “Anyways, I went down there for check-ins before half hour and found him trying to clean it all up. He was being,” Santana pauses for long enough that Brittany wants to hug her, and then go and beat Puck with that candy cane prop, “weird, I guess. But after I chewed him out for being a dumbass and not making more than one trip, he shut up pretty quick.”

Brittany laughs a little bit, and her chest feels light for the first time all day. “Emma’s really, really anal about the props, but whenever she’s out sick Finn and Puck completely fall apart.”

“Yeah,” Santana mutters, “So do the props.”

Brittany giggles, and is about to respond when she catches sight of one of the snow corps out of the corner of her eye sneering at Santana. Brittany’s pretty sure her name is Brynn or Bree or something, though she doesn’t pay much attention to the more malicious members of the snow corps; but even if she doesn’t recognize her, there’s this glint in her eyes that Brittany knows all too well, and the sneer on her face carries in her voice as she calls across the stage.

“Watch out there, Sugar Plum,” she snarls, “You wouldn’t wanna get to close. I’m pretty sure lesbianism is contagious.”

Brittany can see the exact moment that Santana processes what was just said, her dark eyes go wide for a second and her spine straightens with a jolt as if someone just yanked on a string at the top of her head. There’s burning anger in Santana’s dark eyes, but Brittany’s pretty sure she could scrape it away with her fingernail and reveal the bright, aching pain underneath.

Brittany feels that bubbling anger she’s felt all day start to give way and she scowls at Brynn or Bree or whatever. Her own anger is bright and flaring, all of the frustration and grief of the last couple weeks surging like liquid fire through her veins. “I’d rather catch lesbianism than whatever it is that’s made your face look like that,” she says, her voice so quiet and dangerous that it shocks Brynn or Bree or whatever into taking a startled half-step backwards. “Is it the snow that makes your face freeze like that or is that just how you’ve always looked?” Brittany continues, slipping into the practiced confusion that’s served her so well over the years, “Either way, don’t get too close to a fireplace. You might melt.”

Brynn or Bree or whatever gets lost in the sea of dancers gathering for the start of act two and Brittany takes a deep breath to calm the blood rushing in her ears before she turns back to Santana. She’s still frozen, her wide eyes on Brittany’s and the set of her shoulders stiff. “Hey,” Brittany whispers, carefully moving closer to Santana, as if she’s an overly cautious bird that might fly away at a sudden movement, “Are you okay?”

Santana blinks, her gaze darting between Brittany’s eyes. Brittany lets Santana stare at her, hoping she finds what she’s looking for. “I— Uh— Yeah,” she stutters. “That was— I mean,” her brown eyes finally still and settle on Brittany’s, and Brittany feels warm all over. “Thank you,” Santana says earnestly, the glow her dark eyes making something in Brittany’s chest shiver.

Heat crawls under her skin and she already knows the pink splotching her cheeks is obvious, even under the dim stage lights. “I’ve been looking for a reason to call her out,” Brittany admits, “She’s always been awful.”

“I—” a particularly loud voice comes through the headset still around Santana’s neck, and Santana jumps a little, only now seeming to realize that one of the other stage managers has been trying to get her attention for a while. She gives Brittany an apologetic, slightly helpless look, but Brittany easily waves her off. Santana quickly pulls her headset back over her ears and mutters something into the mic. She listens intently right as one of the stage hands starts wandering through the dancers, calling five minutes to the end of intermission, and Brittany starts a little, not realizing how much time has already passed.

Santana sighs deeply and draws Brittany’s attention back to her; she’s worrying the notebook in her hands and scowling into space. Brittany smiles a little at the furrow in her brow; she’s not sure what it is about this woman, but pretty much everything about her is adorable. Brittany touches her elbow to draw her attention, and the way her face instantly clears into a small smile when she looks at Brittany makes Brittany feel a little bit like she might be floating. Brittany points towards the curtains and Santana nods quickly. She covers the mic with her hand and her eyes go liquid soft for a moment. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Brittany can feel her heartbeat pound everywhere. “Any time,” she promises.

//

Santana shows up at Brittany’s dressing room just as she’s heading out, and there’s something easy and light in her expression that wasn’t there earlier. Brittany smiles at her until Santana’s dimples crease her cheeks and she looks away breathlessly. “No notes?” Brittany teases.

Santana shrugs and looks shy for a moment, before she takes a deep breath and gestures towards the hallway, waiting until Brittany’s locked the door and they’ve started heading down the hallway to answer. “Not tonight, I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing,” she says easily, bumping her shoulder against Brittany’s, “You did amazing like usual, by the way. Especially, you know, considering everything.”

Brittany smiles a little, and despite the ache in her chest she feels less empty than she did this morning. Between talking to her family this morning, Mercedes being an amazing best friend, and Santana’s understanding, she’s realizing that she has pretty great people in her life. Sure, she misses Tubbs just as much as she did this morning, and she doesn’t think that will every go away completely, but having so many people around who care about her makes her realize that she’s never going to be as lonely as she was when it felt like Tubbs was the only one who understood her.

“What was he like?” Santana asks softly.

Brittany feels her lips curl up a little. “His name was Lord Tubbington,” she says, watching Santana out of the corner of her eye to gauge her reaction.

She does admirably; after letting out an involuntary giggle, she bites down on her bottom lip to stifle her amusement. “Lord Tubbington?” she manages in a mostly calm voice.

Brittany nods seriously. “We called him Tubbs for short.”

Santana turns sparkling eyes on her, and despite the teeth sunk into her lip to contain her smile, her cheeks still dimple. “That’s cute,” she says, her voice bright with amusement.

Brittany grins, and Santana relaxes a little. Brittany glances around the hallway, even though she already knows it’s going to be empty, before leaning close to Santana. She smells of citrus and vanilla and pinewood underneath the clinging scent of the theatre, and it makes something in Brittany’s chest fall into place. “He was really fat,” she whispers.

Santana’s teeth release her lip as she throws her head back with a delighted laugh. “Please tell me you have pictures,” she gasps.

Brittany grins and quickly struggles to tug her phone out of her pocket. She opens it and quickly finds her photos app, pulling up the album of Lord Tubbington’s best pictures. They end up hovering near the end of the principal hallway, huddled over Brittany’s phone as they scroll through pictures of, what Santana deems, the fattest and most adorable cat in the world. Brittany narrates some of Tubbs’ best moments, including the time he somehow got onto the table one New Year’s Day supper and shoved his head into the cheese fondue, and the time he got out of the house only to be picked up and cared for by a biker gang until they saw his lost posters and brought him back home. Santana’s completely enamoured by the stories Brittany tells, and it’s fun and therapeutic to reminisce on all of her adventures with, in Brittany’s humble opinion, the best cat in the world.

Mercedes had already left to pick up some snacks for them because, despite it being almost ten o’clock at night, she always knows how hungry Brittany is after a show, and since Santana’s ride had to go met up with her mom and dad, Santana offers to share another Uber back to their apartments, much to Brittany’s delight. Brittany quickly texts Mercedes that she doesn’t need a ride and she’ll meet her back at the apartment instead.

They reach the back exit and spill onto the street in a fit of giggles as Brittany narrates how the first and only time she tried smoking when she was fourteen, she heard her mom coming in the front door early and promptly framed Tubbs for the smell of smoke lingering on her clothes so her mom wouldn’t get mad at her (it didn’t work, of course, but her mom found it so amusing that she let Brittany off with only a stern warning that, if Tubbs ever did it again, he’d end up grounded for the rest of his life).

They direct the Uber driver to Brittany’s apartment first, and Santana keeps asking questions about Lord Tubbington, much to Brittany’s surprised delight. Santana hangs onto her every word, as if she’s the most interesting thing Santana’s ever seen, and it makes something lifting and bright curl in Brittany’s chest. They reach her and Mercedes’ apartment far too soon in Brittany’s opinion, and she quickly gives Santana money for her half of the fare, insisting on it when Santana tries to refuse because Santana didn’t let her pay her half last night. Santana eventually accepts, though with much whining reluctance, and Brittany grins, triumphant, and turns to get out of the car. Her fingers have barely wrapped around the handle of the door when Santana’s hand on hers freezes her. “Hey,” she whispers.

Brittany feels something deep in her chest leap to attention. “Hey,” she whispers back.

“I’m really glad you told me about Lord Tubbington,” Santana says quietly, “And I’m really glad to see you smiling again, even though I know you must still be hurting.”

Brittany’s breath leaves her all at once and all she can manage is a small shake of her head and a soft smile. “Thanks for listening,” Brittany whispers.

Santana’s nose scrunches up a little and those dimples crease her cheeks. “Anytime, Britt. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Santana,” she whispers, finally crawling out of the car and carefully shutting the door behind her. She watches as its taillights head east towards the first set of lights before turning south towards Santana’s apartment.

Brittany takes a moment to breathe in the crisp night air before turning and heading into her apartment building; she still keenly misses Tubbs but, unlike she had that morning, she’s doesn’t feel so lonely anymore.

[splat-dragon]

When I reach the other side ~Highwayman, The Highwaymen

Her family was sitting around the dinner table.

 They didn’t usually eat at the dinner table.

 Why were they sitting at the dinner table?

 Was she dreaming?

 She pinched her arm.

  Ow.

 Huh. That was pathetic. Still. No, not dreaming.

 “Morning Jen!” her grandma chimed, stirring the pan she was cooking in. Oh, pan. Weird.

 Dully, she was aware she was in shock. Her palms were damp, and her pulse was whooshing in her ears.

 She was so used to eating ‘stew’ for breakfast, if Pearson’s cooking could be called stew. Offal and oatcakes and whatever else she could dig up in the end, once he’d bailed with the girls. ‘Good for him.’

 She missed him.

 Missed all of them.

  ‘Don’t think about it.’

 “Morning Nan.”

 Sit down at the table.

 Accept a plate.

 Not a bowl.

 “Sleep well?"

 Answer Papa.

 Don’t call him sir.

 “Yeah, had a weird dream.”

 Don’t stare at Mom. She’s on her phone - it’s been forever since she's been on her phone.

 “What about?”

 Nana’s asking her a question. Don’t zone out again.

 Mom’s still distracted by her phone. Don’t get frustrated. Pretend she’s Mary-Beth, distracting herself with one of her books.

 “Can’t remember, honestly.” pray she's talking right - have her speech patterns changed? Don’t say y’all. “Just know it was weird.”

 “Did I tell you about when I worked for Pixar?”

 Papa interrupts. She missed him a lot. Forgot how much it hurt to see his mind going. See a lot of Uncle in him. Remember seeing Bill’s mind going in the end.

 Remember Bill rambling when he was drunk, saying he was afraid of losing his mind like his Pa, remember him in the beginning of the first game having done so.

 Nearly spit out her eggs. Realize everything’s going to taste different. Preservatives, spices. Different cooking methods. The eggs she’d eaten rarely had been from the hens they’d kept in camp. These had been frozen, shipped from farms across the states. Boiled and scrambled and salted and peppered.

 She forces herself not to gag, clenches her fist around her fork. Struggles against the strong taste and forces them down.

 Forgets that food isn’t scarce anymore.

 Listens to Papa’s story.

 Mom doesn’t talk at all.

Get up, get laughed at when she goes to wash her dishes by hand.

 Forget dishwashers are a thing again.

 Smile - pray it looks natural - walk back to her room.

 Put her head between her knees and gasp for air.

Life is so different, and she struggles.

 Things come naturally to her after a day or so. It’s as though she never Went, and it scares her. Will she forget? Forget those horrible things she did, those things she can never forgive herself for? Forget the people she still considers family, despite what they did?

 She sits on her bed, sometimes. Stares at her phone, finds herself lost in thought. Can she hate them? Hate Bill, for snarling at her and saying those horrible things, for aiming a gun at her? Hate Javier for turning against her? Hate Dutch for shooting her, for killing her even though it may not have been his bullet that dropped her dead?

 Or is it Rockstar she should blame? It was they who created them, they who made their fate. They who coded them, gave them their personalities, their histories and their fates. It was Rockstar who decided that Micah would be a monster, that Dutch would lose his way and turn them all into collateral damage.

 And she’d spiral, would struggle for breath and claw at her arms until her cat cried and climbed in her lap and let her clutch at her until she grounded herself again.

 Sometimes she hated them, despised Bill and Javier and Dutch and Micah, sometimes it was Rockstar she hated. And sometimes she felt awful for them - for Bill, whose mind goes. For Javier, whose world crumbled around him. For Dutch, who struggled to carry twenty-odd people in a shrinking world and suffered a brain injury. And others… and others, all three.

 More often than not, she despised herself for failing, for watching them all march to the game’s end and being unable to do anything to stop them.

Always, she had to put a smile on her face. How could she say “Oh, I had a dream and now I’m having breakdowns” without looking the fool? Already, she was struggling to fit back in. Her words were slipping back to normal - she’d tried to force herself to talk as she had towards the end, and it had been hard, and an attempt to throw a rock and knock a bottle off a fence had missed by a mile.

 It’s as though she’d never Gone and she’s scared. She’s falling apart, and even her cat won’t listen, struggles against her arms once she’s caught her breath and flees.

One night, she wakes up screaming.

 She’d fallen asleep early - that was something that hadn’t changed, she’d taken to sleeping and waking early. Had dreamed of a man whose life she’d choked out of him, taken to the ground and strangled 'til he died. His eyes had bulged, and she’d watched as the veins in his eyes had popped, hadn’t let go for minutes after he stopped moving to make sure he was good and dead.

 His crime was that he’d recognized them from Blackwater, and nothing else. She’d not had her gun on her, her knife needed to be sharpened, and so she’d used her hands. He’d refused to fight back, as she was young and a woman, and he’d died for it.

Nana had found her in the kitchen, staring at the coffee pot.

 She’d never cared for coffee Before, gagged on the taste of it, and opted for soda for her caffeine fix, and then energy drinks once she’d developed a taste for them. But sodas were rare and expensive (and contained actual cocaine, and she refused to even chew cocaine gum) in the 1800’s, so she’d taken to drinking coffee. She’d ‘decided to try’ coffee after coming back, only to spit it out to everyone’s great amusement - it tasted very different, was far too smooth, lacking the grounds she’d grown used to, and refused to try it since.

 But she couldn’t sleep, and wanted some sort of familiarity and something to settle her nerves. God, but she’d give anything for the tea Hosea made (oh, Hosea) or the coffee that Susan would make (she missed her dearly, the woman was harsh but reminded her almost of her Nana, had kept her sane), even Pearson’s stew (as disgusting as it was, she’d grown used to it and it was home). But she didn’t know how to make any of them, and didn’t have the ingredients even if she did.

  Her grandmother had made tea (iced sweet tea, of course, none of that  hot tea  that some people like, don’t be blasphemous! but what Hosea used to make was hot tea and oh but she missed it) and pressed it into her hands, and she’d wrinkled her nose but drank it anyways, sitting with the old woman until, finally, she’d blurted out “I had a nightmare.”

 and Nana hadn’t said anything, instead sipped at her tea, waiting for her to talk on her own time.

 “It… it was a really long nightmare.”

 Nana drank her tea.

 “I dreamt I was Arthur. From… from Red Dead.”

 Of course Nana knew who that was. Nana had been the one to introduce her to video games as a child, had watched her play Red Dead 2 (had bought it for her, in fact) and then the first one, had actually asked her to replay it not long before she’d woken up in the fields of West Elizabeth.

 “I dreamt that… that I did everything he did. That I… I murdered and killed. Killed a lot of people, some of them with my bare hands. From… from Colter all the way 'til the end.”

 Nana’s face went sad, and she put a knobby hand atop of Jen’s.

 “Would… if… if I did, if I did do those things… would you hate me?”

 Nana frowned and shook her head, squeezed her hand. “Never. I could never hate you. When you were growing up, remember what I said? No matter what you do, I’ll always love you. If you murder someone, I’ll help you hide the body.”

 And she couldn’t help but to give a watery giggle, “That’d be an awful lot of bodies.”

 Nana nodded, “Then I’d have to dig an awful lot of graves.” and she must have seen the look on her face, because she leaned forward and pulled her into a hug. “No matter what you do,” she squeezed her, held her tight, “I will always love you.”

 and god but she hoped that was true.