#and it's the second to last chapter and things finally clicked this weekend

[anosrepasi]

Chapter 5: Provençal/Read from the beginning

Chapters: 5/6 Fandom: The Old Guard

It is a long time, 400 years beneath the water.

–

A coda fic for Lingua Franca.

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part One / Previous Part / Part 10.1 (you are here)

A03

Chapter 10 is complete and will be fully uploaded to A03 this weekend when I can get around holiday shenanigans. It's very long so tumblr gets it in parts. I'm sure I could make a Thanksgiving food pun there if I tried hard enough but alas I am not Steve nor Dustin.

Apparently, if you stumbled into supernatural shit, you were rewarded with a mountain of legal paperwork so absurdly thick that Gareth was almost positive it included a government-approved execution clause for anyone reckless enough to speak about things better left unsaid

So, here they were: barely a week past the lab incident, eating lunch, keeping their heads down, like their entire world hadn’t been turned upside down.

(He couldn’t even appreciate the pun.)

“She keeps looking over here.” Tiff’s pen tapped out a furious rhythm, her gaze fixed on one Nancy Wheeler, “And she’s been following us.”

“Well according to Steve she knows about--you know.” Gareth said, keeping things vague in hopes it would prevent any visits from men in black suits.

“I’m sure she just wants to talk.” Jeff said with a note of sympathy.

The fucking traitor.

“I’m sure we’re not allowed to talk.” Stewart muttered darkly, pushing his peas around his lunch tray with a fork.

“Only with people who don’t already know.” Grant tried to argue, and that rapidly dissolved into an argument regarding NDA’s and tricky legal language that Gareth tuned out in favor of his new found hobby--doing his level best not to think about anything beyond his lunch and what new D&D character he wanted to play.

His last one died in the prior game, and though Eddie had--weirdly and entirely out of character--offered to revive it, Gareth had waived him off.

They needed some normalcy right now, and if that came at the cost of Gareth’s beloved druid meeting her maker, then so be it.

Plus a new character was a great distraction.

(He was set on playing a noble elf known as ‘Gregg from Accounting’, but a second dwarf named Iron the Chef had been tempting…)

“She’s coming!” Tiffany hissed, slamming her pen down.

Mourning the loss of an easy, drama free lunch, Gareth sighed and prepared himself.

“Hi.” Nancy said, announcing her presence with quiet determination, books stacked in her arms and chin raised defiantly.

No one said a word back.

“Jonathan let me know what happened, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry you got pulled into all of this.” She paused, clearly thinking her words over, before adding; “Steve, Jonathan, and I used to practice.”

Nancy stopped again, this time blatantly waiting for one of them to say something.

She got more stares in return.

“Given that things sound a little open ended, and that there were injuries, I thought it might be good to start up again. Steve suggested if we do, you all should come too.” She finished, bulldozing right through her own awkwardness.

“Practice what?” Grant asked, confused and trying to cover it with suspicion.

“Defensive measures.” Nancy answered.

Seeing their unchanged blank stares, she gathered her books in one arm, formed a finger gun with her free hand, and mimed shooting in such a deadpan manner that Gareth almost burst into disbelieving laughter.

While he was haunted by visions of Nancy Wheeler holding a gun, Tiff loudly picked her pen back up, making enough noise that all eyes went to her.

“You beat my score on Mrs. Click’s practice test by two points.”

“Uh--yes?” Nancy said, blinking at her.

Tiff's eyes narrowed. “I’m kicking your ass on the final.”

Another dumbfounded blink.

“Okay?”

“Tiff’s coping, as are we--no…defensive measures necessary.” Jeff said, in a desperate bid to soothe things over, “We appreciate the offer.”

She nodded, seemingly placated by his response. “Actually, where is Steve? I wanted to talk to him too.” Nancy asked, changing topics with ease. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

“Ah-ha.” Tiff muttered under her breath, as if catching out what Nancy really wanted.

Stewart kicked her ankle.

“He’s with Eddie.” Grant said, covering the sound of their resulting scuffle.

“He’s been spending a lot of time with Eddie lately.” Nancy noted, in that same neutral tone the Feds spoke in. All fake nice without giving a single thing away.

It was a little terrifying.

“We all spend a lot of time with each other.” Tiffany shot back, hackles very much raised and not bothering to hide it. “We’re friends. That’s what friends do.”

“Man, we are vicious today!”

“She’s really sore about that grade.” Stewart covered, offering a sympathetic pat to Tiffany’s shoulder (who looked an awful lot like she was going to bite his hand for it).

Did Nancy Wheeler even know about the weird academic rivalry Tiff had with her? Gareth took one look at Tiff’s gritted teeth, and thought better of it.

“I wouldn't be if I was able to properly finish that essay,” Tiff motioned to the now hopelessly crumpled paper underneath her pen, “ instead of rushing it because I had to pull someone out of a lab--”

“Nancy’s right.” Jeff cut in, in another desperate attempt to distract them all from eating each other. “I haven't seen much of Steve or Eddie today.”

He turned expectantly to his right. “Gary?”

Gareth frowned back at him.

“Why would I know where they are?”

“Oh,” Stewart said, far too innocently. “You haven’t realized you’re their assigned zookeeper?”

Wadding up his napkin was second nature. So was launching it at his friend's head, who expertly (and unfortunately) dodged.

“So you’re saying you don’t know?” Grant asked, a smile creeping across his face.

Gareth opened his jacket, fishing around for a moment as if he was searching for something, before pulling his hand back to show off his extended middle finger.

Pity he actually had the answer.

“They’re in the drama room. Steve sweettalked Mr. Barns into letting them set up early for Hellfire’s game.” He grumbled, ruining the entire effect.

“See?” Stewart said smugly.

With deliberate slowness, Gareth raised up his other middle finger before waving them both in a circle.

“Fuck you, fuck you--”

“Not in your lifetime.” Tiffany answered, to multiple chortles.

“Don’t bother them, Wheeler.” Gareth continued, ignoring the assholes he called friends to turn back to Nancy. “They’re setting up for the Hellfire’s last game of the year and Ed’s is a little…obsessive about it.”

As in he was known to be a complete and utter terror in the days leading up to his grand finales but Gareth wasn’t telling her that.

These games were a big deal for Hellfire as a whole. Precious things they looked forward to and the finale game was something they often worked several months, if not a solid year, to reach.

This year's game had more riding on it than any one prior. Hellfire’s shared sanity, for example, and a shining piece of normality they all found themselves desperately needing.

(Plus the problem of Eddie flunking again--and not telling anyone.

See--Eddie had been touchy the first time he hadn’t graduated and even with the appearance of monsters and government lackeys, Gareth expected this year to be even worse--but the Steve of it all added a rather explosive emotional element.

“You still have most of Hellfire.” Gareth had pointed out, when he’d hitched a ride home a few days prior and found the paper declaring Eddie’s super senior year a lost cause. “You know you’ll still have them after they graduate too, right?”

“Because they’re going to be looking forward to their old pal Eddie while in college, sure.” Had been the clipped response.

“They will.” Gareth said, with a level of assurance he hoped Eddie could feel. “And if that’s the concern, then you’ll definitely still have Steve.”

Who hadn’t gotten into college, and openly admitted to refusing to try now that monsters were back.

“I guess.” Eddie had said, looking like a deflated party balloon.

In typical Munson fashion, he seemed to realize he was giving away more “real feelings” than he’d intended too, and changed the subject with an energy that Gareth knew was fake.

He hadn’t called him out on it though, and equally, he had not called out the mania Eddie had slowly been succumbing to since that fateful day. He’d get over it--Gareth knew he’d get over it--if they could just make it past the point where Eddie’s own brain informed him the world was ending to prove it.)

All of them deserved a break, and a place to put aside all the stupid shit and simply have a good time, and heading off Steve’s nosey ex-girlfriend before she could cause problems would go a long way to help.

“I’m sure they can spare two minutes.” Nancy was saying, mid creation of the exact problem Gareth was hoping to avoid.

“No--uh,” He flailed about for a reason she couldn’t, and the longer she frowned at him the more his brain simply vanished all forms of higher thought. “Don’t?”

Nancy’s expression soured, mouth twisting in a line Gareth very much did not like. “I’m sure they--”

“Tell us what other things you practice. Besides, you know. The pews.” He interrupted frantically.

Under the table his foot struck out, and though he had no idea who he’d struck he hoped whoever it was understood what exactly he was trying to do.

“The pews?” Nancy echoed, after a painfully long moment.

“You know? Pews!” Gareth mimed a gun, and then made “pew” noises while firing it.

Besides him, Jeff gave a very Harrington-like sigh.

(He’d been doing that a lot lately, Gareth made a mental note to mock him for it.)

“You cannot tell me you guys only practice with guns.” Tiffany huffed. She had not been the kicked party, but thankfully, hadn’t needed the nudge to catch on. “What happens if you run out of bullets?”

Nancy gave her an odd, almost calculating look.

“We use whatever else we have on hand.” She said flatly.

Which just boded so fucking well for the rest of this conversation (and Gareth’s life, given he was uncomfortably aware of the things that went bump in the night.)

“Well, give us an example.” Tiff continued, and given the now increasingly concerned looks that the rest of Hellfire was darting between her and Nancy, Gareth knew the rest of his idiots hadn’t caught on.

On a piece of paper he scrawled--and the underlined twice, for good measure;

‘Go. Find. Byers!’

--and then chucked it at Grant’s head. Who thankfully opened it, even if he made a face while doing so, before proceeding to pass the note around as Tiff and Nancy traded increasingly pointed words about weapons training.

“When you’re in a situation, you use whatever you have on hand. I would assume you knew this, given what I heard happened the other day.”

“Yes, but wouldn’t it make more sense to train and carry with backup weapons rather than just hoping you find something on the way? What if the--what if we’d been in the woods?”

Gareth watched the note travel from person to person, until it was dropped back in front of him.

‘You go find him.’ Someone had scrawled, followed by multitudes of doodles, two of which featured army-hat wearing dicks driving tanks.

Then and there, he decided that perhaps his friends truly did deserve death should a similar situation arise in the future.

Useless. They were all useless.

“You’re welcome to make a suggestion, Tiffany.”

“I will. I’ll make a list even.”

“Good.” Nancy smiled, with all her teeth.

“Fine.” Tiff returned, looking half feral.

Was this some type of weird mating ritual between academic types? God, they were scary.

‘Well, that definitely won’t come back to bite us in the ass.’ Gareth thought wryly as Nancy stormed off in the opposite direction of the drama room, tapping the note against the table. He glanced at the rest of the group, who appeared to be attempting to tempt Tiff out of her snit by way of asking her what dramatic bullshit she thought Eddie would be pulling in the finale.

If nothing else, he decided, they’d prevented ruining Eddie’s day--and possibly, their entire night.

Nothing, save more fucking monsters or equally evil government lackeys could manage that.

(Pity that Gareth had forgotten the third most powerful force on the planet when it came to wrecking plans.

Middle schoolers.)

xXx

The day had dragged but they'd made it, and Eddie in turn, had made that wait worth their while.

The lights in the drama room were low.

The entire table had been set up with such care and drama that Gareth almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Goblets lined both sides, each filled with a dark red liquid Gareth knew damn well could not be wine.

Candles--real ones, had been lit, casting shadows across Eddie’s face as he lounged in his throne, a master in their element.

A castle, meticulously crafted out of wooden sticks and painted a dark, forbidding gray towered in front of Eddie down at the end, with the layout of the insides crawling down the table atop carefully gridded paper.

Monstrous figurines stood in a row off to the side, like little soldiers, planted right in front of a plain, if not comically large, cardboard box.

It was elaborate, meticulous, and half the items had clearly been stolen from Steve’s house, if not outright decorated by the man’s own hand.

“Welcome, my friends.” Eddie purred, breaking the spell that had fallen over Hellfire.

“Oh my God.” Grant breathed, jostling Gareth’s shoulder as he pushed inside.

“Dude, you outdid yourself!” Stewart added, voice awed as he took it all in.

“He had help.” Steve confirmed, materializing at Eddie’s shoulder. He leaned forward, adjusting something in front of Eddie, ignoring the immediate angry swat and hissed warnings about “ruining the moment, Steven!”

“Glad to see you putting your mom’s party planning skills to good use.” Jeff teased, but no one missed the way he ran a hand down the table, staring giddily at the spread.

Steve gave him a shrug, but even in the dim light Gareth could see how pleased he looked.

It was magical, and Gareth felt something come alive in his chest that he’d privately thought the manticore had killed.

A childish sort of excitement, bubbling up as he realized he was about to have a damn fine time.

This, of course, is when the actual children came in.

“I made a timeline.” Dustin announced, shouldering his way in between Jeff and Grant to slam down a massive piece of paper.

“Oh my God where did you come from!?” Stewart yelped, started as more and more children suddenly swarmed Hellfire’s table.

“The middle school is literally next door. We walked.” Max rolled her eyes as she took a seat next to Tiffany. “What idiot let you guys light candles in here?”

El fell in right next to her, stealing what was clearly intended to be Grant’s chair.

Who looked like he’s about to say something about it until he caught sight of her delighted face.

Gareth would have laughed at the obvious way Grant’s shoulders slumped as he accepted his fate, if his own chair hadn’t just been usurped by Michael Wheeler.

“A timeline?” Steve asked, before Eddie could surge to his feet and kick the brats out.

(They all watched him jerk anyway, like he’d intended to do just that and barely caught himself.)

“Uh, everything?” Dustin scoffed, waving a beat up folder in the air. “We took it all the way back to when we first met El.”

Next to him, Lucas had stepped up to the table, running a hand down it in much the same way Jeff had. “We decided it might help us figure out where the manticore came from.” He said absently.

A riot of emotion exploded over Steve’s face, made all the funnier by the fact that it was entirely at odds with the setup he’d so lovingly created.

“I’m sorry, did we not hear the Chief of Police? He’s investigating this, our involvement is over.” Steve made a slashing motion with his hand, as if that would hold them all off.

(Gareth, who once watched all of these children fight each other over an arcade score for three consecutive days, knew it was a lost cause.)

Dustin made yet another scoffing sound in return.

Given how often he seemed to make them, Gareth wondered if he had problems with a sore throat.

“I thought we all widely agreed Hop’s investigation skills are terrible.”

“Hello?” Stewart said irritably. “We were about to get started?”

Eddie swung himself into a sitting position and made like he was going to stand up, likely to pounce on the opening Stewart had just given.

Pity Steve once again, beat him there.

“Yes, but he’s not investigating, is he? We,” Hellfire’s jock made another motion, this one a circular twirl of the hand. Gareth was starting to wonder if the gestures are directly linked to his stress level. “already did that part. He can now do the part he’s good at, which is fixing it.”

“He’s not good at fixing it, look at what happened with the demodogs!”

It was at this moment Gareth made his fatal mistake. In hindsight, he should have known better than to ask out loud,

“Okay, can someone please explain what the hell’s a demodog?”

Several protests, groans, and pencils are flung his way for it.

(“Do you know how often that word has been thrown around!?” He’d defend much, much later. “You guys keep saying it but not what they are!”

“If you stopped eavesdropping all the time maybe you wouldn’t be wondering about such things.” Eddie had responded snidely.

“It’s not my fault you keep talking about this shit when I’m right there you asshat--”)

“What, you didn’t think there were actually feral dogs in Hawkins did you?” One of the kids asks incredulously, like he can’t possibly believe anyone is so stupid as to buy into it.

“They were like the manticore, but small and more, well, doggish.” Dustin dismissed, this time with a Harrington flavored hand waive of his own. “Ask Steve, he was there.”

Gareth turned to do just that, D&D campaign be damned (He would not apologize for wanting to know what else might be out to kill them all even if the finale was technically on, sue him) to find Steve had slipped right into mother hen mode.

“No.” He spat, charging forward as he flapped his arms around, like the children are a flock of birds he can scare away. “You are not sucking anyone into this, and we are not getting involved! You heard Hop!”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a coward, Steve.”

“I’m not a coward, I’m someone who doesn’t need another near death experience! There’s not a reward if you have five in a row, dickheads.”

Seething and not bothering to hide it, Eddie picked up the massive gold goblet in front of him and took an obnoxiously loud sip out of it.

“I’m also going to remind you that Henderson here,” Steve stopped behind Dustin to rattle his, “is going to camp in a few days? I believe the rest of you also have similar engagements.”

It was Mike’s turn to scoff.

“Lucas is only in summer school until 3 and camp doesn’t start for another two weeks. We have plenty of time!”

“It’s not summer school,” Lucas protested, eyes darting to Max and back as if she wasn’t aware the kid was a nerd. “It’s a creative writing program--”

“Yeah, well, the rest of us are busy.” Steve fired back. “So any theories you have, you can take and shove right up your ass.”

“Why is it always the ass with you Steve? Do you have an ass fixation?”

Gareth watched as Eddie immediately choked on the dyed Mountain Dew he had been chugging down, hacking so hard tears welled in his eyes.

Jeff shared a pained look with Gareth over the table as Grant pounded him on the back.

“I do not have an ass fixation, Henderson--”

“Okay.” Tiffany clapped her hands together, the sound ringing out throughout the drama room.

“Here’s the deal. Summer break is two days away. Steve is right--most of us here are working, if not preparing to go to college. No one needs to go snooping around where we aren’t wanted, and we definitely do not need anymore injuries. Kapeesh?”

Henderson immediately turned on her. “So we’re just gonna trust the guys who fucking started all this!?”

“Given they also have better ways of handling it, yes. We are. Hopper told them about Stewarts goo, they sent some suits in to kill the manticore, and thanks to El’s heads up we caught things ahead of time for once. Can’t we just enjoy that?” Steve was beyond worked up now, repeatedly running his hands through his hair, only to fix it, pick at it, and then repeat the process again. “For fucks sake Dustin, Eddie just stopped limping!”

“I don’t think it’s over.” Mike muttered angrily, pushing a finger against Tiffany’s water bottle.

She grabbed it before it toppled over, glaring at him.

“El, do you feel anything?” Steve spoke like he was invoking a god and not an undersocialized twelve year old.

“No.” She admitted, after a long almost uncomfortable pause. “I do not.”

Steve pointed at her victoriously. “There you go!”

“But--”

“No more buts!” Steve shrieked, before seemingly to realize he’d done so. He coughed, and then said; “I thought you dorks would be storming in here trying to get Eddie to DM for you, not harassing us about the Upside Down.”

“You guys are playing D&D?” Lucas asked, as if he hadn’t been salivating over the spread for the last five minutes.

“I really like your cleric.” Will said quietly to Jeff, having leaned over to look at his character sheet at some point during the argument.

“Will, aren’t you a Dungeon Boss?” Steve asked, to the horror of those around him. “Why don’t you go sit by Eddie, I’m sure you’d enjoy seeing how he does stuff.”

A wince rippled through the members of Hellfire.

There was simply no way Eddie Munson, a man known to be possessive at best, would ever allow any of them to even glance at his notebook, let alone his entire spread laid bare behind his screen.

Those were his secrets--the result of too many late nights and an easy contributor to his failing high school yet again--and this was the grand finale.

Steve sitting next to Eddie had been miraculous enough--and that was with Eddie actively demanding he sit there, in a vain attempt to drag Steve out of his issues.

Fearing the worst, Gareth snuck a glance at their glorious--and notoriously ridiculous--leader.

Eddie sucked on his teeth, the noise painfully loud in the abrupt silence, eyes on Byers the Younger before they drifted back to Steve.

Who clearly had no idea he’d put his foot in it.

Tiff looked ready to break a pencil, eyes glaring a hole in Eddie’s head as if daring him to disappoint the group's golden retriever while Grant, Jeff and Stewart had all magically found something else to look at.

Gareth himself hunkered down, waiting to see how this would play out.

One more painful, pulsing second and then Eddie seemed to come to a decision, rolling out his hand and gesturing Will closer.

“Indeed Baby Byers,” He dropped into one of his many DM voices, something deep but alluring. “come closer and learn from the master of masters. Perhaps you’ll find something here to take back to your own campaigns. Something truly…terrible.”

He waggled his eyebrows at Dustin as Will’s Party groaned, though none of them put up much of a fuss once they saw the sheer smile that overtook Will’s face.

With the unique combination of embarrassment and pride, Will took his place next to Eddie.

Steve beamed in the corner, clearly pleased with himself and it was not lost on Gareth (or anyone else in the know) that Eddie preened only after sneaking an obvious look at Steve’s face.

“God he has it bad.” Stewart muttered, only to hiss when Jeff not so subtly jabbed him with a pen.

Gareth just shook his head, and gave Eddie a grin that said he would absolutely be getting shit for this later.

“Stevie, be a dear and fetch more chairs would you?” Eddie drawled, as he settled back into his throne, baby Byers happily checking out the items he had laid out behind his DM screen.

Which Gareth supposed was Steve’s punishment for inviting the kids along, but then, Eddie may as well have been bossing the jock around all day regardless given the look of the place.

(He’d certainly taken advantage of doing just that while his leg had been healing.)

That was their mess though, and Gareth happily put all thoughts of monsters, murder, men in black and every other awful M word aside to inside pull out his luckiest D20 die.

“Hellfire,” Eddie boomed as the all finally settled, “It's time to show the kiddies how it's done. Let’s roll!”

“And Dustin bitches at me for my puns.” Steve loudly complained as he came back into the room with chairs.

Eddie shushed him again.

[chericos]

SHUT UP AND DRIVE CHAPTER ONE: gear up

masterlist. || 2.2k

The scent of gasoline filled the garage. Sunlight streams through the oversized glass doors, pooling onto the polished concrete floor and glinting off the sleek frame of your car. Your pride and joy—a beast of a machine with a matte black finish and deep pink accents—sits waiting for your attention. Tools are scattered across the workbench nearby, a chaotic mix of wrenches, sockets, and screwdrivers, each coated in a fine sheen of oil.  

Hunched over the open engine bay, you work with the kind of precision that comes from both necessity and obsession. Your hands move deftly, tightening a bolt here, testing the throttle there. The faint purr of the engine vibrates through your chest, grounding you in the present for the first time in weeks. For a fleeting moment, excitement stirs in you. It’s familiar. Comforting.  

The peace doesn’t last.  

“You know, hiding in the garage isn’t going to fix everything.”  

The sharp voice startles you, and you glance toward the open doorway. Utahime stands there, clipboard in hand and exasperation etched across her face. Her sharp, professional outfit—a deep navy blazer and pinstripe slacks combo—looks wildly out of place against the gritty backdrop of the garage.  

Without looking up from your work, you twist the wrench tighter and mutter, “I’m not hiding. I’m working.”  

Utahime steps inside, her heels clicking softly against the concrete. “Hiding. Working. Same thing at this point,” she says, her tone dry. “You haven’t been to a single event since the... incident.”  

The word makes you freeze, it barely lasts a second, but it was just long enough for her to notice. Gritting your teeth, you keep your focus on the engine. “Can we not call it that? It’s not Voldemort.”  

“Fine,” she snaps, crossing her arms. “What do you want me to call it? The breakup heard ’round the racing world? The reason you’re trending on Twitter every other day? Because that’s what it is to everyone else.”  

Setting your wrench down with a clang, you finally meet her gaze. “I’ll show up. I always do.”  

“Oh, really?” she says, arching a brow. “Because last I checked, showing up means more than tinkering with your car like it’s a safety blanket.”  

“It’s called preparation,” you counter, the bite in your voice sharper than you intended.  

“Preparation for what?” Utahime throws her hands up in exasperation. “To stay in here forever?” Her tone softens as she lets out a sigh, but the frustration lingers. “You’ve been cooped up here for weeks. You can’t half-ass this season like last time. Le Mans isn’t just a race; it’s the race. No more late-night runs for thrills, no more headlines about your ‘personal life.’ Focus.” Racing isn’t just about the car. It’s about you. Your mindset, your presence. And right now, the scouts for Le Mans are seeing someone who’s gone completely radio silent.”  

You groaned, reaching for the rag to wipe your hands, avoiding her piercing gaze. “I am focused. Just because I’m not making dramatic speeches about it doesn’t mean I’m slacking off. And just because I’m not broadcasting my every move doesn't mean I’m “radio silent,” 

Utahime arched a skeptical brow, glancing over her clipboard. “First qualifiers are next weekend. Maki’s already clocked two practice runs, and Nobara’s been studying every corner of the Le Mans track like it’s her SAT. Meanwhile, you’ve been—what? Fixing your car?”  

“Hey, Camie is more than a car. She’s a masterpiece, and now she’s offended. We’re focused, stop worrying.”

“Focused,” Utahime repeated, her skepticism dripping from her voice. “Focused would mean you’re out on the track, working on your times, not holed up in your fortress of solitude.  

“Maybe I like my solitude,” you mutter, tossing the rag onto the workbench, a pout making its way onto your face.  

“And maybe it’s not doing you any favors,” she fires back. “Look, I get it. The whole thing with Megumi—”  

“Don’t.” Your tone is sharp, cutting her off mid-sentence. The room feels heavier now, the words hanging unspoken between you. “This isn’t about him.”  

Utahime’s expression softens, but she doesn’t back down. “Whether you want it to be or not, everyone else has made it about him. About you and him. If you don’t remind them why you’re you, you’re going to lose control of the narrative. And worse? You’re going to lose that Le Mans spot to him.”  

Now that… that hit. You clench your jaw, glaring down at the open hood of your car as if it might offer some magical solution.  

“I’m not going to lose to him,” you finally say, your voice low but firm.  

“Then prove it,” Utahime challenges, stepping closer. “Because Megumi’s out there training like his life depends on it. He’s not distracted by social media, drama, or whatever it is you’re doing in here. He’s racing. And you? You’re stalling.”  

Her words sting more than you care to admit, and for a moment, silence blankets the garage. The hum of the engine seems distant now, overshadowed by the weight of her honesty.  

Finally, you sigh and slam the hood of your car shut. “Fine. I’ll hit the simulators later. Happy?”  

“Ecstatic,” she deadpans, though there’s the faintest hint of relief in her expression. “But don’t just hit the simulators. Go upstairs. Talk to your team. They’ve been trying to drag you out of this funk for weeks.”  

You smirk faintly at her choice of words. “I don’t do funks.”  

“Call it whatever you want.” She gives you one last pointed look before turning to leave. “Just show up. That’s all I’m asking.”  

As her footsteps fade, the silence of the garage settles in once again. The car gleams under the sunlight, a testament to your meticulous care—but it isn’t enough. Utahime’s right. Racing isn’t just about the car.  

Grabbing your (empty) water bottle, you take a deep breath and head toward the house. It’s time to face the world, whether you like it or not. And you were going to show them that you’re better than ever.

You push open the door to your house, stepping into the chaos you call home. The sharp scent of motor oil clings faintly to your jacket, but it’s quickly replaced by the clean, crisp scent of the indoors. The foyer opens up into a spacious living area with polished marble floors that gleam in the soft sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The stark white walls are adorned with framed posters of old racing events, rock concerts, and abstract art, all splashed with animal prints and neon pink. At the center of the room sits a large black leather couch, adorned with a fluffy pink throw blanket draped over one arm and mismatched pillows shaped like skulls and roses.

The coffee table is littered with evidence of your late-night antics—half-empty energy drinks, stray playing cards, and a small stack of glossy magazines featuring you and your teammates in various articles. In the corner, a tall, potted snake plant struggles to survive, its leaves curling as though begging for more attentive care.

The open-concept kitchen flows seamlessly into the living room, with gleaming black marble countertops and pendant lights hanging from above, their matte black and tarnished gold fixtures adding a touch of flair. A pink neon sign reading "Eat Fast, Drive Faster" hangs over the stove, casting a soft glow across the room. The place is clean—for now—but the faint smell of burnt toast lingers, evidence of Nobara’s recent cooking attempt.

The grunge charm extends to the little details: a shelf near the staircase crammed with trophies and medals, the pride of the team, and a mishmash of knick-knacks—a chipped pink skull figurine, a tiny replica of your car, and a Polaroid of the team from your first big win, framed in black. 

As you step further into the house, the faint thrum of bass from Nobara’s room upstairs mixes with the sound of simulated engines roaring from the game room. Somewhere, Panda’s deep laugh echoes, followed by the unmistakable crash of something heavy hitting the floor.

“Who broke something this time?” you call out, kicking off your boots by the door and hanging your jacket on the hook labeled ‘Speed Demon’—a label you swear you didn’t put up.

In the kitchen, Maki is sitting at the counter, sharpening one of her knives with a whetstone. She glances up as you walk in, her expression as sharp as the blade in her hands. “Just your ego, probably,” she says with a smirk.

“Still babying that car of yours?” she teased as you walked in.  

“Better than babying a weapon collection,” you shot back, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “What’s the deal with the knives anyway? Planning on taking out the competition?”  

“Just prepared for anything,” Maki said with a smirk. “You could learn a thing or two about that.”  

You smirk, walking away from the fridge. “You’re hilarious. Keep working on that. Maybe one day you’ll have fans like mine.”

“I don’t think I want any of those. I’ve got a blade and a flawless record.”

“Good for you, Miss Terminator,” you shoot back before making your way to the living room. It’s alive with energy, the heart of your chaotic little universe. You settle onto the black leather couch, its cold surface softened by the worn-in comfort of the pink throw blanket and a plush skull pillow you hug to your chest. Nobara is sprawled across the opposite end of the couch, her legs dangling lazily over the armrest as she scrolls through Twitter. Panda is cross-legged on the shaggy pink rug, fiddling with a miniature die-cast model of your car, occasionally making it "zoom" across the table to annoy Nobara.

Maki—finally leaving the kitchen—has claimed the pink velvet armchair in the corner, her posture rigid and imposing as she continues sharpening her knife. 

“Did you see what people are saying about you and Megumi?” Nobara says, looking up from her phone with a grin. “Twitter’s on fire about you two. Apparently, someone spotted him at the circuit yesterday, and now everyone’s debating who fumbled who again.”

You groan, sinking deeper into the couch. “Can we not? I’m tired of hearing about him.”

“Oh, come on!” Nobara teases, tossing her phone onto the coffee table. “You have to care a little. The people want to know: did you dump him because he couldn’t handle your vibe, or did he dump you because he realized he peaked?”

Panda snorts his laugh so loud it startles Maki, who glares at him. “I’m Team Megumi fumbled,” Panda announces, raising his hand (paw) like it's a vote. “The guy’s too moody to handle someone like you. You’re all speed and chaos. He’s... whatever the opposite of fun is.”

“Broody?” Nobara suggests.

“Exactly.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks for the support, Panda. Super helpful. It’s totally not like you know the whole situation firsthand.”

“But,” Panda adds with a mischievous grin, “you did ghost him at that after-party last year. So maybe it’s mutual fumbling?”

“That party doesn’t count,” you retort, throwing the skull pillow at him. “I had better things to do than listen to him complain in the corner all night.”

“Like what?” Nobara smirks, dodging the pillow Panda tossed her way.

“Win a race, maybe?” you reply. “Something he didn’t do that night, by the way.”

Maki lets out a sharp laugh from her chair, finally looking up from her knife. “You’re all idiots. Who cares about whatever high Twitter wants to get off on? Just get over it and focus on the qualifiers.”

“Thank you, Maki, the only voice of reason,” you say, raising your water bottle in a mock toast.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Maki responds. “You’ve barely touched the simulators, and from what I hear, Megumi’s been practically living at the circuit. If you don’t get serious, he’ll wipe the floor with you.”

The room goes quiet for a moment, the only sound is the faint bassline of Nobara’s playlist drifting from the speaker.

“I’m not worried about Megumi,” you say finally, your voice steady. “He can train all he wants. I’m still faster.”

Nobara raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push further. Instead, she leans back, stretching her arms over her head. “Alright, enough yapping. Let’s hit the simulators. If we’re serious about this season, we need to start acting like it. And Y/n, if you’re not on that track tomorrow, I’m dragging you there myself.”  

You give her a halfhearted grin. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“I’m calling dibs on the first run.”

“Dream on,” you say, standing up and tossing the skull pillow back onto the couch. “If anyone’s going first, it’s me.”

“Oh, so now you’re serious?” Nobara teases, following you toward the stairs.

“Always was,” you shoot back with a smirk.

The energy shifts as the team heads upstairs to the simulator room. The playful banter fades and it's replaced by the sharp focus that comes with a race. Even with the change in vibe, the camaraderie is there—an unspoken reminder that, no matter what happens on the track, you’ve got each other’s backs. There’s only one thing left to do.

It’s time to gear up.

break room!

I still suck at dialogue... but there is SLIGHT improvement (I think)

anyway! the break room is just gonna be the teams' hobbies!

maki has a knife collection, she guards them like they're hr birthed children. no one knows what she uses them for...

nobara runs a youtube channel, she mainly does blogs around the house but sometimes she streams game nights

panda has an insane amount of pokemon cards. he has pushed people on the streets while trying to find them on pokemon go (yes this is based on one of my friends)

megumi was definitely only at the circuit trying to get over it

get ready to turn on the ignition

taglist!

@brideads @sweettenderheart @sh0ot1ngst4r @bertqut1 @favbisexualh0e @Fushiguruzzzz @anonymity222 @harryzcherry @Janneeeexdxc @veevei @lightshowerrr @jasminasblog22 @gumims @samshine03 @yeehawnana @starrysho @1l-ynn @dovellici

if your tag isn't working please fix your settings or you will be removed!

also please comment if I can use you as a twt user!

[unabashegirl]

Different 2 | College HS

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author's note: though I would finally share the second chapter of Different since so many people have expressed their interest on it. I just posted chapter 25 on Patreon and though it would be a good idea to post one here too.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all 25 chapters and much more :)

word count: 2.5K

“Harry!” Mitch barged into the quiet library. Some laughed at him, while others shushed him.

“Quiet, please! Mr. Styles, please remove yourself and your friend if you can’t keep your friend in order.” Harry frowned and began gathering his books and notes. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, so he kept his head down as he exited the room, with Mitch following closely behind.

“What do you want?!” Harry demanded as he made his way toward his dorm in search of some quiet.

“She is playing today,” Mitch almost yelled, wearing a big smile. “She is one of the captains of the soccer team.” Harry held his breath as he listened to the news. He felt his hands getting damp and moist. The mere thought of her being so close to him made him nervous.

“So?” He brushed it off, trying his best to act like he didn’t care or hadn’t been thinking about her the last couple of days. “What do you want me to do?”

“We have to go to the game and see her, fucktard,” Mitch insisted as they left the building. “Come on! I saw the way you looked at her! I know you like her.”

“She has a boyfriend!” Harry snapped back.

“Who?” Mitch stopped him, “That Brian guy?” Mitch laughed heavily, throwing his head back, only irritating Harry even more.

“Emma told me all about him. They used to date, and he is still hung up on her, but she is done with him. Emma told me that Y/N thinks he is too superficial.” Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair. The last thing he wanted was to get his hopes up. “Let’s go to her game!” Mitch repeated, “Come on! I am not asking you to propose to her.”

“Fine, but can you shut the fuck up about it already?” He needed some silence, just so he could pull himself together before seeing her again. She probably doesn’t remember us, he wondered. Harry had always thought Y/N was the type of girl who had multiple friends yet never remembered their names, and he felt like his name had been long forgotten.

They went back to their dorm and worked for a few hours before heading to the fields.

“I had no idea so many people came to these games,” Harry pointed out as they walked up the bleachers.

"Everyone is here to watch a bunch of girls running around in shorts.” Just as Mitch shared, the teams entered. Harry’s eyes instantly scanned the sea of girls in search of her. He spotted her running up while pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. She stood by her coach, who seemed to be having a conversation with one of her teammates.

Y/N was happy. She enjoyed playing soccer. It had first started as a hobby and before high school ended it had developed into something more. She spoke to the rest of the team. They nudged one another and laughed. That was until the coach approached all of them. The entire team quieted down and started trailing behind her.

“I would do her,” Ezra Hart mumbled to his friend. He was known for playing with girls and using his good looks to get away with things. He was on the men’s soccer team. Harry had known him for years. They had even gone to the same high school.

The game quickly began. The players began moving fast. Everyone was yelling, and the referee kept blowing his whistle.

Y/N was receiving passes and placing the ball center, but at the same time, everyone was going after her. At one point, they kicked her and threw her on the floor. The referee whistled and pulled a yellow card on the opposing team.

It was a free kick and Y/N was taking it. Harry had clenched fists by his sides. He was nervous for her. The referee whistled and Y/N kicked the ball.

She scored.

Half-time came around and Harry watched as Y/N ran in their direction.

“Hey!” She smiled and kneeled by them. “Hey Mitch.” He smiled at her widely.

“You are doing great out there,” Mitch complimented her. “You are kicking ass.”

“Good. I am happy you are entertained,” she giggled and turned her attention to Harry. “Could you wait for me after the game? I need to ask you something.” Harry simply nodded, not being able to put the right words together. She gave them one last smile before running back to the bench.

“Styles!” Ezra Hart called out. Harry looked up at him, slightly intimidated by him. In high school, Ezra would embarrass him in front of everyone, and things hadn’t changed that much since. “Where do you know her from?” He scowled as his friends stood behind him for support.

“Met her at a party,” Harry shrugged and turned his attention back to the game.

“That makes no fucking sense. Are you fucking her?” His friends laughed, “Nah, there is no way. You probably get too nervous and can’t even get it up.”

Harry pulled on the strings of his hoodie, trying to shield himself from the laughs and comments.

Y/N played with the same rhythm but didn’t score any more goals. Roughly twenty minutes before the game ended, she got substituted. She sat down on the bench and started taking off her cleats and shin guards.

The game finally came to an end with the home team taking the victory. Y/N disappeared but quickly reappeared with her gym bag and a coat.

“Hey,” Y/N smiled as they all walked towards the parking lot. “Are you alright?” Y/N could sense that his mood had changed. Harry gave her a quick nod and tried his best to give her a reassuring smile. “I don’t usually do this, but I wanted to know if I could have your phone number.” Harry stopped walking and faced her.

“Y-you do?” Harry stuttered, not believing what he had just heard. Y/N giggled and nodded simultaneously, leading him toward her car. “But—” he stopped himself, trying to keep all the negative thoughts out of his head.

Y/N threw her bag on the backseat, then leaned against the side of her car.

“But what?” She frowned, “Is there anything wrong?” Y/N asked innocently in a soft and sweet tone that could bring any man to his knees.

“N-no,” he shook his head and reached back, taking his phone from his back pocket. Harry handed his phone to Y/N so she could type her number.

“Do you need a ride to your dorm?” she asked as she typed his number on hers now.

“No. Mitch will walk with me.” Harry looked around for him, but he couldn’t spot him.

“Just get in the car, silly!” she said, getting in. Harry nodded and quietly got in.

“Why are you so nervous around me?” Y/N asked as she stopped at the first red light. Harry shook his head as he tried his best to be confident. “Are you sure? Because that’s the last thing I want.”

“I am fine,” he bit down his lip and turned to look at her. Her hair had started slipping out of her ponytail, but it didn’t matter because her facial complexity always kept her looking stunning. “Does that hurt?” Harry pointed to her scraped knee.

“Not really. The skin is just a bit sore,” she ran her hand over it.

“It was a rough knock,” he pointed out, remembering how they had kicked her off her feet.

“Here, right?” Y/N asked as she pulled up to his dorm. She had asked around, and they had told her where he lived. It had been a bit stalker-ish, but it hadn’t been with bad intentions.

“Thank you for the ride, Y/N.” She really didn’t need to do that. It was a short walk from the fields to the dorms. Although Y/N knew it was cold, and it had already gotten dark. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay with her. Harry could listen to her speak for hours, yet he knew that she was a busy girl. “Could you do me a favor?” he asked as he got out of the car.

“Sure!”

“Can you please text me when you get home?”

“I—I mean if you want. You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he babbled.

“I will, don’t worry,” she said just before he shut the door.

“Who was that?” one of Harry’s roommates asked as he walked into the building.

“A friend.”

“Is that Y/N Y/L/N? You are friends with her?”

“Yes. She is very nice,” he muttered before heading upstairs to finish some work, take a shower, and go to sleep. He kept checking his phone, and before he shut off the lights, his phone notified him of a text.

Hey, I just got home. I am okay. Goodnight ❤️

It was simple, but it was enough to make him smile and get his heart pumping quicker.

chapter 3

[everyandanything]

The final chapter is up and I’ve only been crying all weekend about it !!!

And now I’m going to be sappy on main for a second so all the apologies in advance totally feel free to click the link above and ignore the "keep reading" button lol

But genuinely wanted to thank everyone who’s read this silly little story. I started this back in July with the thought, “but like what if… Darry got jumped? 🧐 and no clue how to do any of this. And all of you have been so kind and loving and welcoming to me and this fic that grew into something way bigger than I could have ever imagined. This fandom genuinely has some of the coolest and most creative people in it and I’m so inspired by you guys every day.

All that to say, anyone who’s read this story, or commented, or liked, or have been saving it until it’s finished, or have had to put up with me clogging the outsider fanfiction tag for the past 5 months, thank you so so much for going on this journey with me. I’ve had the best time sharing it, and putting the poor Curtis brothers through it (rip).

And I know I say this every time, but I’m so serious please come chat with me about this or all things outsiders, because I’m currently in mourning over this being over and need the distraction 😔🫶🏻

So, without further ado, the last chapter of Born a Grease (except for whatever one shots I inevitably write to cope with my withdrawals from no longer writing this).

Hope you all enjoy, and until next time!!

[endwersed]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged in last week by the amazing @eevylynn ❤️

I'm currently editing chapter nine of the poets are right, so here is just a li'l snippet of that! Full chapter expected out this weekend 😊

-

“Hi!” Eli says.

Derek’s jaw clicks as it works around his thick swallow.

“Hi,” he echoes back, the single word coming out more than a little bit breathless. “I... I’m Derek.”

“I know,” Eli replies breezily, twisting his neck to shine his grin back and forth between his fathers for a second, settling onto just Derek eventually. “So. Do you wanna come see the backyard? I got a new lacrosse stick for my birthday a few months ago, you can help me practice?”

Stiles feels as though he could say with relative certainty that Derek would say yes to doing literally anything that Eli wanted right about now. Tossing a lacrosse ball around, letting Eli kick him repeatedly in the nuts, a literal demonic summoning ritual out underneath the old oak tree. If it was on Eli’s to-do list for the day, Derek would probably be agreeing to it in a heartbeat.

Luckily for him, it seems to be just a little light sports on Eli's agenda.

Clearing his throat, Derek nods his head jerkily, transfixed eyes never leaving Eli’s grinning face. Stiles does not miss the way that Derek's trembling hands are slowly flexing and unflexing at his sides.

“Of course, that sounds – that sounds great.” Derek blinks rapidly, like he is trying to shake off the escalating intensity of his stare. With a small tip of his head, he finally manages to tear his gaze away from Eli, sliding it across the room and over to the Sheriff. “It’s, uh – it’s nice to meet you, sir.”

As soon as today’s visit was pencilled in, Stiles made sure to have a very stern and very frank conversation with his dad. A clear talk to assert that, no matter what either of their opinions on Derek might be, they are not allowed to behave in any manner but perfectly civil and passably polite while in front of Eli.

The kid needs a chance to develop a relationship with his other father without Derek and Stiles’ history coming into play. This is about Eli, his dad had agreed, grumbling and eventual, after a hushed and heated argument ended only by Stiles’ proverbial foot stomping down onto the ground.

Which is the reason – Stiles thinks, at least – that his dad’s reply to Derek is simply a quick and only slightly clipped, “Yes. Likewise.”

Stiles tucks an arm behind his back to lift a subtle thumbs up in his dad's direction. His dad huffs in vaguely grouchy response to it.

“C’mon,” Eli says, wasting no time at all in wrapping his fingers around the crook of Derek’s elbow and beginning to tug him over to the door leading out to the backyard. “I’ve been waiting to test this thing out for ages. Grandpa can’t play with me anymore because of his back, and pops just plain sucks at lacrosse.”

“Thanks, kid,” Stiles deadpans as they pass him.

Eli does not even pause his steps as he throws a cheeky grin towards his pops.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding anything but, just a second before he yanks the door open and starts pushing a still mostly bewildered Derek through it. “See you later!”

-

Low pressure tags ❤️ @raisesomehale @crownofstardustandbone @dear-massacre @hedwig221b @lucky-bishop

[wordsintimeandspace]

A Love Like Ours (1/5)

Martin has long been fed up with his family who's still trying to pair him off with a woman. When his cousin's wedding is coming up, Tim has the solution for him: he's going to pretend to be Martin's boyfriend. A foolproof plan, if it weren't for their feelings getting in the way. Feelings for each other—and for Jon. Meanwhile, Jon is having some kind of emotion about this whole fake dating thing, but it isn’t jealousy. Certainly not. He couldn’t even tell you who he’s jealous of. Jon/Martin/Tim, rated T, ~2.3k words in this chapter. Read on AO3!

The tape recorder finally clicks off. In the silence that follows, Jon lets out a breath of relief and slumps back in his chair. He takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. God, he's exhausted. He's been working too much this week, despite Martin's nagging and Tim dragging him out to the pub one evening, but at least he met Elias' quota of recorded statements. And it's Friday afternoon, so he nearly made it to the weekend.

With a groan Jon picks up his mug, only to find it empty. He scowls at it for a moment, and finally heaves a sigh and gets up to get himself a refill.

The Archives are quiet when Jon leaves his office. Only Sasha is at her desk, too engrossed in a book to notice him. Jon leaves her be, and turns to the break room instead.

He stills in the doorway when he catches sight of Martin standing at the counter, kettle in hand and four mugs placed in front of him. His laugh echoes through the room, bright and carefree. There's a grin tugging at his lips and his shoulders are loose and relaxed, and Jon can't help but notice, once again, how beautiful Martin is when he's like this. He's gotten a lot more comfortable around Jon these last few months, but seeing him like this is still a rare sight. It never fails to take Jon's breath away.

Martin shifts, revealing Tim sitting on the counter beside him with a matching grin on his lips. Martin hands Tim a mug of tea, and what happens next takes Jon's breath away for a whole different reason.

Tim's grin grows impossibly wide. He slings an arm around Martin's shoulder, leans in closer than is technically appropriate for the workplace and says, in his most honeyed voice, "Thanks, snookums."

Jon's mug hits the floor with a mighty crash.

Martin squeaks and flinches so hard he nearly spills tea all over Tim. He whirls around, eyes wide. All the colour drains from his freckled cheeks. Jon has no doubt he's sporting a similarly horrified expression.

"What," he rasps, "are you doing?"

"It— it isn't what it looks like!" Martin rushes to say, voice a pitch higher than usual.

Behind him Tim snorts, as if trying—and failing—to suppress a laugh. "Actually," he says, leaning forward with an eager expression. "What would you say this looks like, Jon?"

Jon blinks, incredulous. "E-excuse me?"

"Tim," Martin says, pained.

"I just want some feedback!" Tim grins, hopping off the counter to escape Martin, who looks determined to silence him by all means necessary. "Was that convincing? Not convincing? Too much? Just cheesy enough to convince Martin's homophobic family that yes, he is actually gay, thank you very much?"

"They're not homophobic," Martin protests automatically before pausing for a second. "Not all of them, at least."

Tim rolls his eyes. "Sure. That's why they still try to set you up with whatever young lady currently available."

"Tim," Martin says again, voice shaking with emotion, and Tim stills. A guilty expression flits across his face.

"Sorry, mate." He gives Martin a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning to Jon. "So. That's what we're doing."

Jon stares at them for a long moment, gears turning in his head. The puzzle pieces still refuse to connect into a picture that makes any sense. "You're… what?" he finally tries. "You're dating and playing it up to make Martin's family understand you're serious?"

Tim bursts out a laugh, while Martin's blood abruptly rushes back into his cheeks. "Not— not actually dating," he says hastily, cheeks flaming. "Just— you know. Pretending to."

Jon blinks. Understanding hits him like a freight train. A complicated feeling rises in his throat. It's big and messy and sharp, and he doesn't quite know what to name it. He doesn't want to examine it in more detail to find out what it is. "I— I see," he finally manages to get out.

Martin nervously bites his lip, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. "It's just, I mentioned to Tim before how my mum and my aunt always try to set me up, and, uh, I got a bunch of family events coming up, with my cousin getting married and all, so Tim just—"

"Martin," Jon interrupts, harsher than he intends to. "You don't need to explain. I suppose it's none of my business. But I have to request that you keep this nonsense out of my Archives. It's hardly appropriate."

Martin nods quickly, not meeting his eyes. "S-sure."

Jon nods sharply, and turns on his heels. Fleeing seems like the best course of action, before any of these messy feelings sitting heavily in his stomach burst out of him. Only when his office door slams shut behind him does he remember that he never got the tea he wanted. He curses quietly, and gets back to work.

~~~

"Well," Tim says with a wince as he watches Jon rush out of the room, "that could have gone better."

"Oh, you think?" Martin snaps. He flinches and takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Sorry. It's just… Jesus, Tim. You could have told him a little more delicately."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It ran away with me a little." Tim sighs, taking in the frown on Martin's face. "Look, we don't have to do any of this if you don't want to. It was just a spur of the moment suggestion. We can just forget about this if you prefer."

Martin heaves a long sigh. He takes his mug of tea and sinks down into a chair at the break room table. Tim watches him for a moment before sitting next to him.

"I do want to do this," Martin finally says, wrapping his fingers more firmly around his mug. "I don't know how else to make it through the wedding. I'll just start yelling if my aunt introduces me to any more friends of the bride who just happen to be single."

Tim's lip twitches. "We can't have that. Not during the ceremony."

"My cousin would murder me. Or I would murder someone. I don't know."

"Well, good that you have me to keep all of you Blackwoods out of prison."

Martin huffs out a laugh. "Thanks, Tim. I really appreciate this."

"Of course." Tim reaches out to squeeze Martin's hand, and then… Tim just leaves his hand there. Martin's skin is pleasantly warm. And, well, they should get used to this, at the very least. Tim needs to be able to hold Martin's hand in front of his family if they want to be convincing. Ideally without all of his feelings spilling out of him. Christ, he can hardly confess his undying love to Martin just because he touches him. Especially not after he just suggested that they can totally platonically pretend to be dating. Like it's no big deal.

"D'you think Jon is okay?" Martin says suddenly, and Tim can't help but wince. He takes his hand away. Because that is the whole problem, isn't it? Martin is hopelessly in love with Jon. And that's precisely why Tim needs to keep his own feelings in check, and just be Martin's friend.

"Sure," he says, as nonchalantly as he can manage. "Why wouldn't he be?"

"I don't know. You don't think he was… weird, just now?"

"I always think Jon is weird. You know, in a good way. It's endearing."

Martin laughs softly. "It is. Sorry. I'm probably just overthinking this."

Tim bites his lip, considering. He can't help but wonder, once again, if Martin might prefer to do this whole fake dating thing with Jon. They've been getting along well recently, with lots of lunch breaks spent together with just the two of them. He wonders if Jon might agree to it. He thinks he might, despite his gruff demeanour, if it means helping Martin in this particular case. But he doesn't dare to speak the idea out loud. Poor sweet Martin would surely get his hopes up if he does this with Jon and… well. Let's just say that Tim is painfully familiar with Jon's rule not to date his employees. He's just saving Martin the heartache. Even if it means heartache for himself.

"Hard not to overthink it, really," Tim finally says. "So, brunch with your family this weekend, right?"

"Uh, yeah." Martin rubs his neck. "It's not going to be a huge thing, just my mum and my aunts. And the cousins."

"Right." Tim pauses. "How many cousins are there again? I think I lost count last time you tried to explain."

Martin groans, although there is a smile tugging at his lips, and launches into the whole spiel again. Tim leans back, smiling as he listens. Whatever happens—even if this whole thing crashes and burns—at least he'll have this. Spending time with one of his best friends, helping him out of a tough spot. Tim just hopes it'll all be worth it.

~~~

About half an hour after the incident in the break room, which left Jon tragically tea-less, there is a knock at the door. Sasha pokes her head in, a steaming mug of tea in her hands. Jon sets down the statement he's been trying—and failing—to focus on for the last while.

"Ah, thank you," he says as Sasha sets the mug onto his desk.

"Credit goes to Martin, to be fair." Sasha smiles, leaning her hip against his desk. "I'm just doing the delivery."

Jon blinks, startled. Martin usually brings the tea himself. That he sends Sasha to do it is more than a little unusual. Unless, of course, Martin is avoiding him after he just snapped at him. Jon can't blame him, really. "I see. Still— thank you."

There must be something on his face that makes Sasha's smile slip. "Are you okay, Jon?" she asks softly.

"O-of course." Jon winces at how raspy his voice is and clears his throat. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I know that Martin and Tim just broke the news to you. I'd understand if you're upset about it."

Jon scoffs. "That's hardly something worth getting upset over. Besides, aren't they only pretending to be dating?"

Sasha's eyes narrow, and Jon realises with ice-cold clarity that he just made a monumental mistake.

"So you would be upset if they wouldn't be pretending?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Jon protests. His cheeks burn, and he quickly reaches for his mug of tea to hide it.

Sasha's face softens. "Look, Jon," she starts slowly. "I know you still like Tim and—"

Jon chokes on the first sip of tea. That wasn't the direction he expected. Sasha watches him, confused for a moment, before her eyes go wide. "Wait, Martin?"

"N-no!" Jon splutters between coughs. "I don't… I don't like them. No."

Sasha is so close to the truth. The truth that he tried so hard to bury deep within him for weeks now, dredged to the surface with just a few pointed questions. Jon can see it in her eyes—the exact moment she understands that the answer is not Tim, not Martin, and also not neither of them.

Jon has to look away. The expression on Sasha's face is too close to pity, and his eyes are already stinging.

"Oh, Jon." Sasha rests her hand on his. It's warm and comforting, and Jon soaks it up for a few precious seconds before pulling away.

"I'm fine, Sasha," he says with as much resolution as he manage. It's admittedly not a lot, but it also isn't nothing. At least his voice is steady, even though it feels like the rest of him is falling apart.

"It's okay if you're not. I'm here if you want to talk, okay?"

Jon lets out a shuddering breath. His chest aches. "Thank you. I appreciate it, I truly do. But it's fine. It has to be. It's none of my business what Tim and Martin are doing, even if they would enter a romantic relationship."

Sasha looks like she wants to argue, but eventually she lets out a sigh. "You're too hard on yourself. I'm just worried."

"Your concern is noted."

With a roll of her eyes, Sasha pushes herself off his desk. "Don't be a dick."

Jon winces. "Sorry. I'm not trying to be. It's just— it's been a long week."

"Then don't work too long today. I think we'll all be off soon."

"Ah, sure. I'll try. Have a good weekend, Sasha. And thank you for the tea."

"You too. Try to have some fun, okay?" With that Sasha breezes out of the room, closing the door behind her. Jon is left alone in his office, a hollow feeling in his chest.

He doubts the weekend will be very restful. He already can't stop thinking about Tim and Martin, and all the small things that fake dating might entail. Holding hands and arms wrapped around shoulders and lovingly gazing into each other's eyes. A kiss perhaps, on the cheek, or on the lips if they're trying to be really convincing. All the things that can so easily turn from fake into something solid, something real. Jon is not an idiot; and he's read enough romance novels to know how this sort of thing usually turns out.

The thought makes his chest ache. And then he feels terrible for feeling terrible. He meant what he said to Sasha—it's none of his business. He already missed his chance with Tim, back in research when they decided not to pursue a relationship any longer when transferring to the Archives. And surely he did the same with Martin, with how he treated him at the beginning when he was frustrated and overworked and out of his depth, and let it out on his poor assistants.

Jon groans. He tries hard to push all of those pesky feelings away, and gets back to work.

[wiktorianala]

My oc's + characters they were based of in one way or another

I got bored of sewing, maybe gonna continue on weekend, but anyway i decided that it's time to make smthng more with Bouney 'n Handy so there's a lil drawings and if someone is interested in me yapping about them, story, 'n other stuffs then click here \/

Oki, so I'll start with at which point they were based of well, Salad and Madotsuki. Starting from Handy because this will take me less time. She was created waaay later, at moment when I wanted to start working on comic, so I had to make second character just so Bouney wouldn't be only one, well i wanted to make her an object head of some kind to match with the fact that Bouney's head was created out of rotated eye. It is not anymore but that was honestly how I created this little freak. Fine but coming back to topic I wanted to give her some kind of object, and I'm honestly shit when it come to making any decisions myself, so with my friend we just looked throught my entire sketchbook and we found drawing of Madotsuki with hand palm effect (because I was pretty much fixated over this game and bigger part of sketchbook had Yume Nikki drawings), so we just picked hand. Now, with Bouney it's longer story, just like I said, I created him way earlier, so first thing he got after Salad were simple plain clothes 'cuz I'm layzy and absolutelly didn't wanted to bother with drawing anything complicated over and over again (and I picked Salad, because once again, yes it was my fixation at that time, and I want to remind that thos are two different times btw). So at the point when I wanted to start making thos comics and when I already had character designs I had to give them personalities and story, and the story... it was pretty different from what it is now. First vershion of it was too about a empty world and all thos stuffs, this didn't change, but main difference was the fact that in earlier ver Bouney was only living creature in this world. Handy was more of some kind of imaginary friend that appeared in his head due to loneliness there. (this a bit was based out of Salad too, because, ya know, empty weird world, clearly not very sane main creature character 'n thos stuffs) Plot mostly was just like in current vershion pretty goofy 'n just some "everyday stuffs", but at some points it was getting pretty heavy and sad. AND YES I KNOW THAT IT SOUNDED MUCH MORE INTERESTING, honestly at some point even I liked it more in this way, but there were two main reasons why I changed it. First one, fact that Handy wasn't really a physical person caused some technical writing issues that maybe been not that hard to fix, but as once already I said- I'm layzy, so I didn't wanted to be bothered by them. And now second and honestly more important reason (at least for me), it was time when I was making 2nd re-write of "Fragments of Sanity" plot (rn I'm working on 3rd, and I hope last one, because I want to finally make it into comic too) and I mean first version of it was pretty, well sad (I can't really find better word for it), but on second version? Oh boy, let me tell ya this shit is even worse (and main reason for this is probably because I dunno when but Mike ended up being at least in his personality and behavior (not by plot) a bit of self insert). So I didn't really wanted both of my projects to be like that, and I wantd at least one of them to be one with wich I could more goof around, so yeah, I've changed it. Well I guess that's all I wanted to say? I dunno. I know that in 95% no one is about to read this, but anyway I feel at least better when I can yap somewhere about some certain stuffs, and hey, ain't that for what blogs even exist? For people to yap, and do stuffs they like? Damn after writing for such a long time about them I guess I have a need rn to finish this god damned 3rd chapter. So yeah, now that's all.

[snowangeldotmp3]

haunted hawkins please you absolute MENACE to my HEALTH with that snippet amy adams screaming dot gif

what can i say i love Pain and Angst hehe. lucky for you i have TWO pieces from haunted hawkins (though one of them might be scrapped bc i was on a scream kick…but in the realm of haunted hawkins robin and nancy DO have a few non-paranormal encounters. so.)

FIRST UP: the killer and the final girl (aka the scream chapter)

“There’s two of them,” she mutters, paralyzed by her own fear. Nancy’s head whips around, fear present in her gaze, too. “What?” “Killers,” Robin says, mouth suddenly dry and full of cotton, “there are two killers. One of them makes the call, the other does the killing.”

SECOND: The Lab (or, the name i just now gave this chapter outline bc this idea just slapped me in the face so i had to write it down)

“Robin, do you hear that?” Nancy stops, tilting her head around to seemingly get a better listen. Robin does hear it, a chittering that’s eerily and horribly familiar. The hairs on the back of her neck rise, and dread rolls through her stomach. One hand grips the nail-bat tighter, the other reaches for Nancy’s shoulder. “Nance,” she murmurs, “we need to leave. Now.” Nancy nods, grabbing whatever files she can and shoving them into her bag. A scraping sound on the metal door urges them faster, but Robin fears that they might be too late. When they look back through the dimly lit hallway though, all they see is a person. Nothing monstrous or evil, nothing to make the hairs on the back of Robin’s neck raise like it does. The lights flicker. Nancy shoves the last of the files into her bag, and Robin hears the familiar click of the hammer on Nancy’s revolver. The lights flicker again. Robin squints, accidentally making eye contact with the man. The man convulses, head jerking before a sickly, squelching noise emits from him. And then, His face opens up. Almost like the— “Demogorgon,” Nancy breathes. She freezes, if only for a moment, but Robin’s pretty sure she’s never seen her freeze, ever. Robin raises the nailbat, fingers dancing on the grip. Ready to swing, ready to fight. Two more demo-dogs join the lone one. Each one having a face that belongs—or belonged—to a person. Unless they were part human. Robin’s no expert on demogorgons, but the last time she checked the demogorgon wasn’t also a person. Which means two terrible, terrible things: One: there are more demogorgons, which means there are more Upside Downs, which means infinitely more headaches for them. Two: these are not your average, run of the mill demogorgons. These are were-demogorgons. Which means that somehow, in this Upside Down, the demogorgons have evolved. Which leads Robin to her final point: They are royally fucked.

wip weekend <3

[froggyphycosis]

Me and you outlined in stars PT2

Cassandra/April

WOO! It's finally here at long last! (no one was waiting) apologies for going quiet due to some stuff happening with life at the moment im going to go mostly dead during the weekdays and only really post during the weekends (please still chat to me tho!) anyway here's the ficcc.

Previous chapter!

Summary~

After the events of part 1 Cassandra takes April to go do something she loves

2652 words

TW blood

Cw swearing

Cw mentions of violence from previous chapter

Fluff

Cuddles

Caretaking (this chapter is so sweet and fluffy I swear)

_____________________________________

...And now here she was. Watching April fumble with her apartment keys in one hand and gripping Cassandra's tight in the other. Her face is still rigid and frustrated. She manages to get the door open after a second and she nothing short of slams it open, Cassandra can hear Carol's shout of surprise from here.

April actually let's go of her hand now and starts to walk off. It feels like Cassandra has just had her skin scraped away by ice.

"Wait where are you going?!" she hates how scared her voice sounds even to her.

"Go sit on the couch I'll be out in the minute." she growls, stepping into her room and shutting the door with a soft click. No slam or rattle of the shelves like she was expecting, and not even bothering to look back.

April's anger usually burns hot. It's big and it's protective. All the Hamto's are like that, their love and passion and care fueling their anger like coal to the burning. If they're angry you'll know about it.

But not this time, April's gone quiet and dismissive and it's making the ugly thing in Cassandra twist into something even more disgusting.

Theres a soft sigh behind her.

It's Carol.

That shouldn't make Cassandra startle as much as it does. She's met Carol before and her intent towards her has always been one of kindness and warmth, welcoming her into her home like it was so normal to want somone like Cassandra in thier daughters life.

Even if it was only as friends.....

Carol steps forward suddenly, making her flinch. The older women's eyes are soft when they meet her own, even with the state she's in. Grimy boots on the carpet, blood staining the entire bottom half of her face and the really very pretty top that Mikey had gifted her.

She's probably going have to throw it away now.

"Why don't we sit you down on the couch baby I'll go grab the kit in the kitchen and then I'll get you all patched up how does that sound?"

It's a question.

She can leave if she wants to, if it's to much. Carol is giving her an out, and she doesn't move an inch as she waits for the answer.

Cassandra still can't get around the knot wedged in her throat though and has to settle with a nod instead, eyes down casted on the floor and she promptly flops onto the couch.

Fuckkkkk why was she born this way...?

She let's out a long sigh, the adrenaline draining out of her and with it all her energy too. Maybe she should train more? No way she should be getting this tired from a few punches.

She leans back so that her head is resting comfortably against the arm, closing her eyes. Her nose is throbbing and her body decided this was the best moment to clock her injuries. Everything burns and stings like crazy, for one, she can feel the scratch marks on her arms, how it's starting to ooze with blood, the fresh splits on her knuckles and how they sting after so long without use.

She'll probably have to go make a statement to the police she thinks bitterly, and this is going to turn into such a mess.

Already kind of is one.

The couch dips with someone's weight immediatley snapping her out of her half-sleep daydream. Cassandra lifts her head up so that she can at least look at Carol whilst she fixes her up.

But it's not Carol she looks up to.

Its April's worried face. Leaning over her, one hand hesitating almost touching her arm and med kit in the other. She didnt even hear April come out of her room, plus it had only been like, 2 minutes right? No way she had calmed down.

"I thought your mom was gonna patch me up?"

"O-oh right well-yeah well I can still get her if you want-" April backs off taking her incredibly comforting presence with her and Cassandra panics sitting up so fast her joints creak, she goes dizzy, hand darting out and grabbing her arm before she can leave.

"NO! no no, please don't go i need you to stay, I-I want yout stay."

She can't let her leave, not when she finally spoke to her. Finally *looked* at her, even if she's to tired to parse the meaning in any of it. April stares blankly for a moment, then her entire face crumbles and she buries herself in Cassandra's arms.

"O-oh okay then" April whispers

Shit she has to apologise now, she was to busy thinking about all the hurt to give it any thought.

"I'm so sorry for punching him," she starts. She doesnt know how to apologise this is so much harder than it should be. "i swear i didn't mean for it to get that bad, I didn't mean to break our promise I'm sorry- I really- and I know how important that agreement is to you-"

April lifts her head up suddenly, some of that upset returning in her eyes.

Shit she's messed up *again*.

"Cassandra that dumb agreement isn't important to me *you are* that's the whole reason I made you promise to it in the first place," April breathes in closing her eyes and something pained happens to her face and when her she opens them again they're glassy and wet "i *hate* seeing you hurt more than anything! I'm not mad. I'm upset yeah, you fucked up and you should apologise, but just know your so much more important okay? So so so *so* much more important."

April gently strokes her face down to her jaw and Cassandra won't ever admit she almost started crying again. She doesn't know what to say to that, to something *so sincere*, so unflinchingly warm and brave. Like she doesn't even doubt her opinion for a second, doesn't doubt *Cassandra* for a second. Her throat feels like barbed wire hot and prickly with the tears and cries she's trying to shove down.

"Oh." is all she manages to say and it's so embarrassingly strangled that it's going to keep her up at night. Maybe it says enough though, because April is wrapping her arms around Cassandra's chest like iron bars not even a second later, face in her neck again.

They stay like that for a while, some of Aprils warmth spreading into her, thawing her and relaxing her muscles.

Everything's not over yet, but they've talked it out, silent forgiveness passing through the air. It was comfortable even when she pulled away again and began tending to her bruises and bloody nose.

(she will not admit how much she enjoyed April gently tending to her face)

It's such a nice moment, almost perfect, almost.

"Hey Apricots?"

"Hm?"

"You wanna know what would make this a perfect moment?" Cassandra's says relieved to hear some of that confidence she knows so well in herself return to her vioce, grin stretching across her face slowly.

"I wouldn't exactly say this is a nice moment considering you have a black eye but go on?" April asks playfully packing everything away.

"If we went to see the Stars."

April's head snaps up so fast it's impressive. She shakes Cassandra a little her eyes lighting up.

"Wait girl like really like now like was that geniune??"

She can't help the laugh that tumbles out of her "uhm yeah of course?? If you're okay with driving we can go right now to the barn if you want."

"Oh my god yes of course i can! hold on-hey mama!"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going out with Cassey I'll be back tommorow!" she shouts, already snatching her keys off of the coffee table one leg planted on the floor ready to get up.

"Wait, morning? where are you girls going?"

"Out to the barn-look we'll be back by tommorow promise!"

Cassandra hears her sigh from the kitchen. "well I can't very well stop you girls, you're both 18 so off you go."

"Thanks mama!"

April let's out a squeal of excitement and leaps up taking Cassandra with her.

"oh my god oh my god okay calm down your gonna need a sweater April otherwise you will litterally freeze to death i know what your like" she laughs

holding April's face in her hands, effectively stopping her from moving anywhere else.

But April doesn't answer her right away, she's stopped like deer in headlights looking up at Cassandra all wide eyes and silent, till the older teenager is forced to let go and shake her in hopes of grounding her with reality again.

"OH! Oh um r-right yeah mhm! my bad I'll go grab one!" April looks very sweaty all of the sudden and she wonders if maybe telling her to grab the sweater was a mistake because she looks warm, but she stumbles away to her room before Cassandra can reiterate.

Well that was wierd....

By the time April comes out of her room she's wearing not one of her own sweaters, but one of Cassandra's. It's a deep red (her favourite colour) and its the same sweater that she's been looking for for months, April must have stolen it before the invasion and kept it to herself.

"sorry is that MY favourite sweater your wearing right now?"

She's had that sweater for a very, very, long time. Been through hell and back in it. It has holes in the sleeves, nervously rubbed into them when she was younger. The aglets have been chewed, and there are definatly a few stains of her blood on there somewhere. Although it's her favourite,, it pools around her hands when she tries to hide her laugh behind her sleeves.

Cassandra's heart beats a little faster. Wow, April should wear her sweaters a lot more.

April doesn't answer her just smiles a little wider and skips to the door.

"You ready to go?"

"Yes! Onwards! A journey to the stars awaits us!" She says with gusto and is rewarded when April laughs fully, Causing the older teen to do the same.

________________________

They clamber up onto the roof, scaling the rusty pipe that works it's way from top to bottom of the house, it creaks and moans, bending under April's weight alone it's been years since they've been here they've both grown so much especially Cassandra who's now taller and thicker in muscles.

Qiute giggles echo from the top of the roof where April is watching her raptly and the older teen decides to take that as challenge to get up there quicker and faster.

She does a running jump, putting her boot to the wall, she grabs the pipe heaving herself half the way up and it works!....For about 2 seconds.

"AH FUC-" she slams into the ground and the breathe is punched out of her, the laughter from the top cuts off abruptly.

"O-oh my god wait are you okay?! "

She's to winded to reply and has to compromise with a thumbs up.

Embarrassing.

April laughs and rudely points out that "theres a ladder in the house somewhere isn't there?" just to ruin her dignity a little more

"... Yeah," she huffs, half out breath and half out of playful annoyancy.

April has the nerve to giggle. Asshole.

By the time Cassandra finally gets up to the roof (by ladder embarrassingly enough) April has already laid out Cassandra's jumper and a few blankets and is laying down totally engrossed in the stars above them.

It's not hard to see why, it takes all of but four seconds for Cassandra to flop down next to her and rember why they loved this place so much.

It's a watercolour blur of everything that makes the night sky so beautiful, blues and purples smeared against the pinks and greens, freckled with flecks of bright white constellations.

She gasps softly when she sees it.

She can't belive she went two years without this and a fight with a guy in bowling alley is what kickstarted the visit of all things too.

Thanks I guess.

Cassandra looks over at April. She's totally mezmerized a soft smile on her face and and her eyes skimming over the sky probably naming every constellation in her head.

She nudges the younger teen with her foot "Hey Apes tell me about one of the constellations."

April jolts, looks at Cassandra and then back up at the stars, eyes narrowing in concentrated thought. Her face lights up after few minutes and she clambers upright and crosses the distance between them, scooching right up and snuggling herself right into Cassandras side, head resting on her outstretched arm.

"you see that one right there?" April closes one eyes and slowly drags her finger along in the sky drawing an invisible line where a star constellation is.

"yeahhhh I think so."

"Okay that's good so," april shuffled a little getting more comfortable her voice getting low and soft "those constellations right there are called perseous and Andromeda, they are depicted side by side in the night, lovers outlined in stars." April's voice cracks suddenly," Not one of the things I learnt for JJ for once but actually one of donnies story books hah- ha! Haha "

Cassandra watches horrified as April sobs, half laughing half crying, in what the older teen assumes is stress and hysteria and a lot of built up emotions from almost dying, 5 months of constant moving and fighting and then everything that happened yesterday and all of that coming to a hault, everything's slowed down enough now that she can finally let it all out.

April considers her brothers the most important people in her life, she'd happily be the rock they need to lean on even at her own expense and after something like this, it was almost bound to happen.

Total Raph complex. And Leo. And Mikey. And Donnie. And-

"im-I'm *so*- sorry why am i *crying?*."

Ough this is not Cassandra's strong shit.

Porceed with caution as Donnie would say.... And probably Mikey actually.

Cassandra almost snorts imagine those two both agreeing about something on feelings...

OH MY GOD FOR FUCKS SAKE YOUR SUPPOSED TO BE COMFORTING APRIL.

*SHITTTTTTT*

She's spent far to long being silent but she doesn't dare open up her mouth because words have never been her strong suit but *actions*, actions she can do.

Cassandra opens her arms and nudges April's shoulder because she's turned around now taken her glasses off and viscously rubbing at her eyes. She looks up, all bleary nutmeg eyes and guilt and heartbreak and it tears up Cassandra's heart, but when April dives into her arms and buries her head into Cassandras neck giving into her feelings she ignores all of that in favour of holding her tightly, planning to stay until her legs go numb if April needs it.

________________________

April watches the skye lighten slightly as the night molds and fades into a warm dawn and thinks how lucky she is to have Casey.

She *loves* her.

And for all the teasing and shit her brothers give her for how fallen head over heels she is for this stupid, rambunctious, reckless, loud, caring girl. She's content.

Even if her deeper feelings for Cass aren't and will never be returned, she has no doubt in her mind now that Cassandra loves her. Not after this.

She can't belive she got so emotional about Casey being nice to her and taking her to the stars and being all romantic with her even after she freaked out after that guy hit her, that she actually started crying??

What a bummer.

"Hey Cassie?"

"hm?"

"I love you."

There's a pause, but April doesn't panic and doesn't have to look over at Cassandra to gage her reaction because she *knows* she'll say it back.

"I love you too."

[thecrappyportalmaster]

Dark Virus: Chapter 1

Remember that post where i talked about a writing a story my fanbot getting trapped inside Walter manor with evil versions of the SPG bots but i was worried it would be too cringy? I decided screw it and I wrote it anyway.

This is partly inspired by @steam-powered-chaos 's evil The Jon story.

TW: brief mention of a dead body and blood, Compass doesn't really understand the concept of death, very brief mention of separation anxiety

Compass hummed a little tune to herself as she walked along the path, a fishing rod slung over her shoulder. She didn’t like the idea of taking a weekend by herself, but decided to give it a try after Peter vi’s encouragement, as taking this trip may help to ease the ex-sailer out of her fears of being alone. VI himself was taking a small vacation, along with the rest of his family. At least, the ones made of meat. The other six automatons were left in the manor with the rest of the staff, and Compass was ready to see them again. Although she was the newest member of the group, the others had taken her in as one of their own, making her feel welcome in the new environment. 

However, as the golden automaton finally saw the manor, something felt wrong. The manor felt more…dark. Compass couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with the picture in front of her. Everything was the way it should be and in place, albeit a little quieter than normal, but that was to be expected with the Walter family gone. But still……

Compass shook off the thought as she leaned her fishing pole on the side of the manor, deciding she would put it away later. Right now, all she wanted to do was go back to her room, unload her satchel, and sort through the dozens of polaroid pictures she took of all the fish she met.

The lingering feeling of dread did not leave the ex-sailer as she crossed the threshold into the manor and pressed deeper into its halls. It was so dark. So dark that Compass could see the faint blue glow from the blue matter core in her abdomen, seeping through her black shirt and red vest. Why was it so dark? Did GG blow a fuse again? And where was everyone? Come to think of it, where was she? She cursed herself for not paying better attention to the halls of the manor, and placed a hand on the wall to the right of her. As she walked down the hall, she felt along the wall for a light.

Her boot caught something, causing the automaton to hit the floor with a deafening crash. She sat up, confused. What did she trip on? She reached out and poked something squishy. Squishy? What was squishy? An idea popped into the automaton's head, and she fumbled with her satchel for a few seconds, fish pictures spilling onto the floor. Finally, she grabbed her polaroid and clicked. The flash only illuminated the world for a half second, but that was all Compass needed to see what she tripped on. It was a Walter Worker, sleeping on the floor surrounded by strawberry jelly. Compass grinned and poke the sleeping worker again.

“Hey, you can’t sleep on the floor, silly!”  She giggled. The Walter Worker didn’t respond, still fast asleep. Compass poked them again, harder this time.

“C’mon, wake up! You can’t sleep here, you’ll get hurt!” She said, sounding more serious. A deep voice rang out behind her.

“They’re not going to wake up, Compass,”  it said. Compass stood up, but didn’t turn around, still too focused on the Walter Worker. 

“We’ll need to move them then so no one steps on them. I’ll grab the arms and you grab the legs,” She said, determination in her voice. The voice let out an unsettling laugh. 

“That won’t be necessary,” it said. Finnly, Compass turned to the person. In the darkness all she could see was a faint blue glow of a blue matter core, and a pair of unsettling green eyes. The figure hit her on the head with something, and she fell to the ground. The figure reached their hand to the nape of her neck, pushing said her braid, and flipped a tiny, almost invisible switch. The last thing Compass saw were those green eyes. They blinked, and began a crimson red. Then, everything went black.

[icanbeyourjedi-writes]

Dear Frankie Chapter Seven Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: A weekend away, leads to the next steps in the relationship

Words: 6754 Rating: 18+ SMUT please don’t read if you are under 18 Warnings/Triggers for series: Frankie is active duty military, deployment, death, Adult language, themes, and SMUT A/N: So I don’t really know anything…ok I know nothing about Fayetteville, North Carolina.  I am taking my own liberties on what it’s like there.  Names of places may exist, but I have no idea if they are real or not as well as some of the events I have.  But it's fan fiction and there are no rules.  While the reader may have some descriptions, I am doing my best to leave out physical characteristics. Just try to have a little imagination while you're reading this. I am horrible at SMUT writing, sooooo...yeah Another A/N: Sorry for the lack of posting to this story, I started a full time job at most of you know and when I did, I didn’t realize that full time meant 50-60 hours a week.  It’s been a lot and I am trying to get some more written, thank you for staying with me and now that I have figured out this work full stuff I hope to get back to writing some more. 

**Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. **

-November 2012-

Try as you might Frankie, you will never be able to convince me that doughnuts are better than pancakes. The argument that they have frosting doesn’t work…who says you can’t put frosting on pancakes? 

I still can’t believe that you are with me, with everything that happened over the summer.  You always have said that you are the lucky one, but Frankie with how you treat me, with how you love me…I am the lucky one

It was the second week in November, you had been busy with work and Frankie had been swamped with his own.  A new recruitment class had just joined the ranks and he was busy teaching the new pilots. You missed him and when the two of you finally had a ‘Frankie Friday’ to be able to spend together you made sure to do things right. Tyler showed you a quick and easy Chicken Tortilla Soup recipe.  You stood in front of the stove stirring the pot of hot liquid when a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, Frankie rests his chin on your shoulder. Squeezing you and placing a kiss on your cheek “this smells amazing Estrella” you smile and lean back into him “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

You smile and nod your head in agreement, “gotta keep you fed somehow”, the two of you haven’t tried since that night. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you really did.  But something always felt off, felt forced almost.  Not on Frankie’s part, but on your own.  You were getting to the point where you just wanted to get it done and over with. Dinner was done, dishes sitting on the drying rack and the leftover soup placed in the fridge in a tupperware bowl with Frankie’s name written on it. Your feet up on the couch, curled into Frankie’s side as the two of you watch some comedy movie.  These nights with you help Frankie forget the negative in the world and he wants nothing more than to laugh and see you smile. 

“Hey, what are you doing next weekend? I know we’ve been busy with work…and the holiday is coming up” he asks while his fingers mindlessly rub on and down your bare arm “…but do you wanna…” 

“Yes” you say before he even finishes. He chuckles 

“I didn’t even finish what I was going to ask you, it could have been dangerous, or another wedding. I know how much you love those” 

“Is it another wedding?” You ask and he shakes his head “then bring on the danger Pilot Morales” 

“Warrant Officer,” he corrects you “adding Pilot my last name doesn’t make me official” he laughs and you shrug your shoulders and curl back into his side, head resting against him. Hand resting on his stomach, thumb rubbing against his soft gray shirt and you turn your attention back to the movie.  He clears his throat, “you wanna go away with me for the weekend? Just the two of us…”

“Where?” you ask

You pull up to what looks like a mansion.  A white stone front, with large wooden doors greet you, the backdrop of the mountains make it look like something out of a fairytale movie. Frankie kills the truck engine and you stare at the place you will be spending the next two days with your jaw dropped, not understanding how he was able to not only find this place but how he was able to afford it.  You’ve seen places like this for rent before and knew it wasn’t cheap by any means especially around the holidays. You feel Frankie’s thick fingers under your chin gently push up, closing your mouth “...how…” you ask 

“Eh, I know a guy” he smiles at you before leaning in to kiss you

“Oh, you just know a guy and you thought I was one with the mafia connection…you not telling me something Morales?” his hand moves from under your jaw, wrapping his fingers in your hair and holding your head in place as he kisses you slowly making you completely forget the question

“You said you wanted a little danger” his lips move over yours as he speaks, “do you wanna go inside?” you nod and quickly kiss him again 

Frankie opens his door, making his way over to you, He takes your hand as he helps you out of the truck.  Grabbing the two bags in the bed of the truck he follows you up to the front doors. His bag slung over his shoulder, the handles of your small bag wrapped around his hand, he reaches in gray sweat jacket and pulls out the key. Unlocking the large wooden door he pushes it open, you stand in awe of the house that lays in front of you. “It’s even better on the inside…” he whispers into your ear and you turn to look at him “after you” he nods his head towards the large open room. You bite your bottom lip and step inside. To the right of the door is what you can only imagine was a home office or library, books like all four walls. A grand staircase in the center of the room, walking past the stairs leads to a fireplace along the back wall. The family room on the right with a U-Shaped couch, facing a large picture frame window with the mountainous landscape. Who needs a TV with a few like this. On the left was a kitchen that any chef would dream for. Large fridge, a six-burner gas stove, two ovens and something that you knew was for pasta water but you didn’t know the correct term for. The large farm sink with its own window, and a center island big enough for ten people. Your jaw drops again, “who’s this guy you know?” You turn to face Frankie who set the bags down at the base of the stairs, shrugging his shoulders as he walks over to you

“Just a guy…really. It’s not a big deal” he places his hand on your lower back and kisses your cheek, “but if you think this is impressive. You should take a look at the bedroom” 

“Upstairs?” you ask 

“Upstairs…” he confirms and you run up the circular staircase leading to what find is the only room at the top of the stars 

Sliding open the barn door for the room, you almost faint at the beauty of the master bedroom. The room is larger than your entire downstairs studio apartment back in town. Floor to ceiling glass windows stretch the entire space. A large circle skylight that almost stretches from wall to wall has the room lit up with the setting sun. A king sized bed with dark blue sheets sits in the middle of the room under the skylight. You stand there in awe, Frankie’s footsteps behind you, climbing the stairs with your bags. Who was this guy and how the hell did Frankie know him? Part of you wondered…while the other part of you tried to commit every detail of this beautiful room to memory. Frankie sets your bags on the bench at the end of the bed. 

“This place is insane…” you shake your head still unable to believe it 

“Why don’t you get comfortable, unpack…I’ll go get some dinner started” he wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead 

“Since when do you cook?” You laugh 

It wasn’t that Frankie didn’t cook, he did. He just didn’t like to, he knew the basics and was able to make more than just Mac and Cheese but in all the time you knew him he rarely cooked. He pulls back, still holding your waist smiling, “as a beautiful woman once told me…I gotta keep you fed some how” 

You put your hand over his goofy smile and playfully push him away, “I can’t with you sometimes you know that”  you shake your head smiling 

“You love me…” when you don’t say anything his statement turns into a question “…wait you love me right?” 

“I’ll let you know after dinner” 

Frankie puts out his bottom lips, looking at you like a wounded puppy. Those big brown eyes of his almost breaking you, you shake your head and smile, “fine…I love you” you pat his check and the smile that grows you swear could light up the whole damn city. He does a little fist pump and heads towards the open door and makes his way down the stairs towards the kitchen. You shake your head, laughing to yourself and you make your way to unzip your bag. 

You pull out a little yellow satin lingerie pajama dress. Thin yellow straps, with a deep v-neck line, the straps criss-cross in the back in a corset type style. The dress ends on your upper thigh, and you know the moment you bend over, your dress will leave nothing to the imagination in the backside. The dress has two slits on the sides, you wondered what they were for when there was so little fabric to begin with. You slide on the yellow satin shorts that you found to match. Before leaving you have an internal debate with yourself if you should wear this for dinner. Your hair down, falling over your shoulders and you stop at the threshold of the door. “Do it Frankie will think it’s sexy and have you then and there. Your the only dinner he’ll need” a voice says in your head, “don’t you want this…” it says again when you turn around and find the sleep shorts you brought with you. Sliding them up and tucking in the little bit of dress that was exposed. “What are you doing…” the voice gets louder when you put on a hoodie. You check the mirror and make sure your little yellow dress was hidden, and throw your hair up in a messy bun on top of your head. 

Making your way down the stairs and towards the kitchen the smell of Italian food fills your nose. Turning the corner you see candles sitting on the kitchen island, a bowl of salad sitting there with two wine glasses and a bottle of rosé. Frankie’s back to you as he stirs something on the stove top. How long had you been standing upstairs arguing with yourself about what to wear, it was nowhere near long enough for him to whip this meal up was it? 

“Are you making risotto?!” You ask

“Yes?” He inflection makes his answer sound like a question and you raise an eyebrow at him “yes” he says again more confidently and stands up a little straighter, shoulders back and proud of himself 

“Mmmhmm” you hum and move to a bar stool at the island reaching into the salad bowl stealing a crouton “you just happened to learn how to make a mushroom risotto” 

“For you, I’d learn anything…” he looks over his shoulder to see you smirk and roll your eyes “...and maybe I stopped by Gio’s and picked some up before this weekend” he chuckled turning off the stove top and dishing two plates that he had set on on the counter next to him

“Thank you,” you kiss his cheek as his sets the plate down in front of you “and thank you for this”

A weekend away with you, was exactly what I needed. Get away from everything at home and it just be us.  The trip started perfectly, an incredible house, the perfect man next to me and my favorite dinner.  I would be lying to you if I didn’t tell you I was still terrified of the next step, but Frankie I am ready…I am ready for you.  I love you more than I think was ever possible. The, I mean our first time may not have been exactly the way either of us envisioned it but it was nothing short of memory making. 

Your back is against the armrest of the sofa, legs draped over Frankie’s lap.  One arm of his rest on the back of the sofa, the other over your legs.  His hand rubbing up and down your thigh.  His legs were bouncing and you could tell there was something he was waiting to say. There had been a movie playing on the TV but all you could focus on was Frankie and the inner debate he seemed to be having with himself. Was this what you looked like upstairs debating on wearing your sexy little sleepwear down stairs for dinner? 

“Hey…” you pause when he looks over at you “are you ok?” 

He takes a deep breath, “I…you. Ok” he pauses and takes a deep breath “I mean you kinda already are, but do you think you might want to move in with me?” 

“Really?” you ask with a bit of shock, you had been spending as much time as you could with him. At least when your schedules allowed for it. He looks away from you and down to his hand that now sits still on your thigh “hey…hey, I didn’t mean it like that.” you reach for his face, turning him gently to look at you. Your thumb rubbing along his jaw.

He moves his hand, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a silver key, a little heart shaped charm attached to it. You look down at the key, then back up to him, pulling his face towards you and kissing him with as much passion as you could. Fingers moving to his hair and holding him in place.  You can feel the cold metal of the key resting on your thigh, pulling away just enough to be able to speak, “yes, Frankie” you smile against him before kissing him again. The Key flattens against your leg, Frankie pulling you closer to him, giving himself the room to lay you down, back against the cushions.  The hand he had on the back of the couch now holds most of his body weight above you, he deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing along yours. The key falls in between your leg and the cushions when he moves his hand up your thigh sliding it under the hoodie you had been wearing and rubbing along the silk of the sexy lingerie pajamas you had been hiding.

He lifts the hoodie a little further before your hand catches his wrist and stops his movements. To try and make it seem a little less awkward and not that you don’t want to take the next step you move your hand to lace your fingers with his. Feeling the bulge in his jeans pressed against you, you turn your head to catch your breath. Frankie kissing you on the check, your jaw, then your ear. His teeth biting the lobe, “do you want to take this upstairs?” his voice a low and deep whisper, your brain forgetting how to speak. You nod your head, the scruff on his face tickles as you turn carefully to look at him. His soft brown eyes turning dark, filled with lust and you want nothing more than to let him take you to bed. 

Sitting up, you slide your legs off Frankie. He offers you his hand when he stands up fully, wrapping your fingers around his, he pulls you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his waist, and rest your head against his chest.  Breathing in a scent that is uniquely him.  Coffee, Fennel and something that you can not describe. It’s sweet but with a hint of spice and when you smell it, it smells like home. His hands slide down your back and over your ass, grabbing it and slowly leading you backwards towards the stairs. Your hands work their way to wrap around his neck, he leans back lifting your feet off the ground. Silently telling you to wrap your legs around his waist, when you do you feel his hands wrap around your thighs holding you to him and he begins to walk up the stairs.  When you feel him stop, you slowly unwrap your legs from him, feet finding the cold hard wood floor or the bedroom. He cages you against the wall, lips attached to yours while his hand fumbles around for a switch. He finally finds the switch he was looking for and a fire comes to life along the one wall that isn’t lined with glass windows.

His your hands slide down his chest, finding the zipper to his grey hoodie. Pulling it down and opening it up to his soft red shirt underneath. His hands move to your waist and start to slide under again, feeling the silk below. He pulls back an eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his face. “What’s this…” he questions as part of the yellow fabric becomes more exposed. You bite your lip, and pull his face back towards you, hoping that kissing him he’d forget the question. You know how the story ends, he will eventually see it when he starts to undress you. But you’d rather have his lips and attention focused on kissing you instead of what you are wearing. 

You push on his chest, getting him to walk backwards towards the bed. For not knowing the layout of the room you were very successful in leading him to the bed. His legs hit the bed, one hand moving from your waist to brace himself as he sits on the edge. Your legs move to straddle him, sitting on his lap continuing the kiss. His hands reach again for your hoodie, lifting it up inch by inch. More of the silky yellow fabric becoming exposed, he pulls away from the kiss just long enough to rip the hoodie over your head. His eyes drift down, seeing the helicopter charm resting against your chest, they continue down when he sees the sexy little number you had hidden. His hands on your waist, thumbs stroking your hips, licking his lips, continuing to drink the sight of you in. “Were you gonna wear this to dinner?” he asks you. You nod your head, your eyes looking down avoiding the look he’s giving you “it’s a good thing you didn’t…we never would have made it through the meal if you did” 

He lets you slide the jacket off his shoulders, your hands shaking as you reach for the hem of his shirt. His hands hold your wrist and help you lift the shirt over his head. You throw it behind you, your eyes still on his. Hands gripping in his broad shoulders, leaning back to kiss him. Your hips begin to rock against him, Frankie’s hands on your waist almost encouraging you to continue. When you break the kiss for a moment to catch your breath you hear him ask ‘are you sure?’ 

“Yes, Frankie…I, I’m ready” you smile, your thumb brushing over his lips “I love you” 

He kisses your thumb, smiling and nodding his head in agreement. The hands holding your waist move wrapping his arms around you, flipping you to your back. He stands next to the bed, propping yourself up in on elbows you reach for his belt “mmm not yet, this is about you” he motions for you to lay your head on the pillows, he follows laying next to you. His fingers pick up the charm resting between your breasts, his dark eyes focused on you. You reach up to cup his check and gently tuck a little curl behind his ear. He leans down to kiss you, his tongue sliding against your lips while his fingers trail down stopping when he reaches the waistband of your shorts. His thumb sliding underneath “may I?” 

You nod your head, instead of sliding your shorts off his fingers trail down further, through the curly hair there. His lips back on yours, moving slowly while his finger slips through your folds to find you already drenched waiting for him. His long calloused middle finger rubbing circles on your clit, you moan against his lips. Frankie carefully slides his finger down, towards your entrance when your hand flies to his bicep gripping it tightly. Pulling him away from this kiss thinking he had done something wrong, his finger stops moving and he brings his hand out of your shorts “are you ok? I…is this…I” he deep voice stuttering 

“No, no keep going. I just wasn’t…please do it again?” You nod your head “I just wasn’t expecting it…” 

“Ok…” he agrees, he slides his hand back, fingers making the same path as before. His eyes locked on to yours making sure that you are ok. He begins to slide in his finger and you bite your bottom lip, he inches in it slowly watching your face closing your eyes and the furrow between your brow relaxing he leans back down, kissing you gently and beginning to work his finger in and out of you. The grip on his bicep relaxes your hand moving to his neck, fingers threading three his hair when he moves his lips to the nook of your neck. Letting out a moan when his tongue licks a sensitive part there. 

“Are you ok?” He breathes against your skin 

“Mmmmhmmm” you hum nodding your head and you can feel the grin on his face against your skin 

“I’m gonna add another one ok?” He waits for your response, when you tell him ok he slips in another finger working you open. Preparing you to be ready for him and the next step

Mi Pescado, My love…so this is what you meant by preparing me first. I knew you had to be good with your hands. You are a skilled pilot after all but I had no idea you could play me like an instrument. I’ve tried this before but you are making me feel things I never had imagined. 

“Oooo” you moan against his neck “Frraaaankie” your fingers tighten his is hair a low moan escaping his lips that are still latched to your neck while his fingers continue to work in and out of you. Curling and rubbing against the most delicious spot 

“Come for me Mi Estrella…” his lips brush against your ear, teeth pulling on your lobe

Your eyes closed, head tilted back, hips rocking against the palm of his hand while his fingers kept working. 

Every cliché sounded exactly like that, a cliché. But Frankie, you made fireworks explode…waves crash on the beach…lava erupting from a volcano…and had the world stopping for just a moment. 

Your breathing fast, heart racing out of your chest. Eyes closed as you try to bring yourself back to earth. Frankie’s fingers now move slower, drawing out the incredible feeling of floating on air. Your fingers loosen around the dark locks. You open your eyes to see him, a smile on his face, eyes sparkling like the embers of the fireplace in the room. Fingertips massaging the back of his neck and you can’t help the post-orgasm smile on your face. 

“I love you,” he tells you leaning down kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, then giving you a quick kiss to the lips “so much” 

You push some curls back off his forehead, fingers trailing down behind his ear. Over the scruff on his jawline, following it down to his chin. Catching it between your thumb and fingers you pull him back in for a kiss, “I love you” you murmur against his lips

Moving his body he positions himself over you, your legs spreading to let him fit. Sitting up, he reaches for the hem of the silk dress. He begins to pull it up, you sit up letting him pull it over your head.  His eyes roam down your bare chest, hands moving down the side of your body. Hands stopping at your hips, thumb brushing the soft, sensitive skin there. Biting the inside of his cheek and shaking his head, almost in disbelief. “How did I get so lucky?” he says to himself “so beautiful” 

Your hands work to undo his belt buckle, forehead resting against his. Your breathing picking up in anticipation of the next steps “then why don’t you finish your meal, Francisco” you say as seductively as you can with your heartbeat rising. Remembering the night he told you he didn’t prepare you first, that the night when everything went wrong he blamed himself. 

“Yes ma’am, gladly” he smirks, he stands to remove his pants the rest of the way. Before dropping them to the floor he reaches in his pocket, trying to find the little foil rapper.  You slide off your now soaked underwear and shorts throwing them on the other side of the bed, “shit…shit” you hear him turning your attention back towards the now naked man sitting on the edge of the bed. His elbows on his knees, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other over his face.

“Frankie?” you say softly, moving your body towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder, his head shaking in disappointment 

“I thought I had…I don’t, the condom fell out” he manages to finally say looking at you. His dark brown eyes, the once lustful look now replaced with sadness 

“It’s ok…we…” you put your hand on his cheek “I trust you” leaning in to kiss his shoulder, then his cheek, finding his lips “I trust you” you say again. 

Your eyes locking onto his; you take his hands and move them to your body, hands wrap around his neck guiding him back to the bed. Back to the position you had left. His forearm resting next to you holding his body weight off you. His other hand moves to his cock, stroking himself a few times before sliding the tip between your folds. You hold your breath when you feel tip notch at your entrance, “hey…hey breathe, ok” his voice concerned trying to guide you through this “just focus on me” you nod your head taking a deep breath.

He pushes in a bit further when you take your breath, moaning at the stretch. Your eyes closed, Frankie’s lips brush over your ear “ok?” he asks, and you nod. Fingers threading through his hair tugging on it “yes” you whisper and he inches further. Stopping again to let you adjust before he pushes further. The little tugs of his hair and air little moans encourage him to continue until he is fully in. You open your eyes, feeling that he had stopped moving, the feeling of him completely pushed up against you. The coarse hairs pressed to each other. “Ok?” He asks you again 

“Yes,” you smile at him “I love you” 

“I love you too” he leans down slowly kissing you. Staying still is hard for him, his cock twitching and begging for him to move. It’s taking every bit of his strength to not pull out and slam back into you. “I’m gonna move now, If you need…” 

“You to stop, tell you. Frankie, I trust you” you press your thumb over his lips. You roll your hips trying to create friction. You don’t know what made you do it, or how you knew to do it. Frankie grunts when you roll your hips again. 

Frankie starts to pull out, just enough to push back in. Small thrusts to start with, letting you feel him, giving you the chance to tell him to stop if you need to. Your small moans encourage him to continue to pull out further. His hand slides down your thigh, hooking around your knee and moving your leg up a little higher on his hips giving him a new angle. Your nails scratch down his back leaving your own mark on him, while his tongue and lips leave their own on your neck. 

“Oooo ooooh…” you breathe out, each snap of his hips brings out a new sound. His pace quickens, he wanted to hold back to go slow but you felt to good and it had been so long since he felt like this “Frrrrammmm” 

“Ok…is..too…much…” each word leaves his mouth with a thrust, lips against your skin. His head buried in your neck, his cock buried deep in your cunt. 

“Mmm it’s good” you tilt your head further back. Back arching while Frankie buried himself deeper. Legs tightening around him, your toes curling. He had found a spot inside of you that is setting your skin a blaze, a fire quickly building deep within you. “Frrraaankie….hmmm” you moan again 

His hips snapping harder, the pace picking up, sweet dripping down his body onto yours. He adjusts himself so he’s thrusting even deeper than before. His hand moves to hold the headboard, gripping onto it to help hold him above your body. Your toes curling more, hips moving with his, your hand trying to find something to hold on to. His grunts are only matched with your moans, skin slapping against skin. Your hand moves from his back and flies to grip the headboard when you lost control of the fire, a full blown inferno now. 

“Shhhhit….Oh god…Fffff” you walls clench around him, the damn burst and you come around him. Frankie chasing his own high, his head high above you know looking down on the beautiful faces you make as you fall over the edge. The hand not hold the headboard moves to your waist and down your leg that had he clenched around him. Moving your leg to open you up and thrust harder and faster. 

“Where?” He snarls, the chords in his neck tightening and his teeth grit together “I…need…to…” 

“Whhhat?” You ask as he snaps his hips again 

“Can…I…shiiiit” he can barely get the words out and you can feel him throbbing inside of you. You barely had enough time to say “inside” when warm fills you again. 

His toes curl, his breathing heavy and eyes closed. Ropes of his seed continue to flow, the once calculated and precision thrusts have slowed. Now longer slamming back into you, but gently sliding in and out. Frankie’s arm is growing tired and he lays his body weight on to you. The two of you are breathing heavily, his warm damp skin laying on top of yours. Your fingers massage the back of his head, puffs of hot air against your neck and his thick cock still pulses inside of you. His body begins to relax the more you play with his hair, your own breathing starting to even out. His face towards you, hot puffs of air hit your cheek. A stark contrast to the cold tear that falls from your eye that you know he feels. You don’t have to say anything before a barely there kiss is placed to your temple, then catching the next tear before it falls. 

“Shit, baby…I…I am sooo, are you ok?” he lifts his head, regaining strength he lefts the top of his body off of yours, your hands moving with him “did I hurt you” he slides out of you as carefully as he can. A hand holding your wrist, while the other cups your face

You swallow hard and shake your head, “I’m ok Frankie…I just, I’m sorry” you say quietly. You know the sex didn’t seem to last long, it seemed to be over quicker then you had hoped for. You know his experience and are sure that this wasn’t as good for him as he has had in the past.  “I’m…”

“Why are you sorry?” his thumb stroking your cheekbone, and a hand on your hip. The fire behind him and the sweet shine off his body making him look like a Greek God “you have nothing to be sorry for”

“It didn’t…I didn’t, was it? Was I ok?” you finally manage to ask him, sitting up. His hand still holding your hip, the hand on your face cradling the back of your neck “did you enjoy it?” 

“Did I enjoy it?” He asks, there was a tone to his voice you had never heard before. A mix of annoyance and saddens “of course I did, so it did last long. That doesn’t matter. What matters is how I feel about you and how I feel when I’m with you. And I love you, I love you more than I ever thought was possible” 

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you to him. You wrap your arms around him, head resting on his shoulder. Your hands run down his back, kissing his shoulder and pulling away to look at him. 

The fact was, it wasn’t like how I pictured it. It wasn’t like how they made it seem to be in the movies. I didn’t know what I was doing, and as much as I trusted you I was terrified. I don’t know what I did to get so lucky to have someone as understanding and wonderful as you. But, Frankie, I love you. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. 

“Maybe we can try it again?” you ask a shy smile toying at your lips 

“Of course, we can. I mean practice does make perfect” 

You hear the fire crackling, you open your eyes slowly.  Frankie’s bare back facing you from the end of the bed, holding a guitar he had found in the room.  Fingers gently brushing against the strings, turning the tuning pegs until he finds the right tone.  Carefully sliding the sheets off your naked body you crawl on the bed to him. Kissing his shoulder, your hand rubs up and down his back and you sit close, watching his thumb move over the strings again.

“I didn’t know you played guitar” you chin resting on his shoulder 

“I am a man of many hidden talents” he smiles leaning his head towards you 

“Play me something?” you ask

“I’m really not that good, I just…sometimes while away…I” he starts

You could always tell when he was starting to get nervous, he hands were busy otherwise you know he would be rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding all eye contact with you. You lift your head and place a kiss on his cheek, a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Please?” you ask again. 

He nods, and begins playing a song you don’t know the melody to.  His eyes focused on what his hands were doing, his tongues peaking out of his lips in concentration. After a few chords you start to recognize, ‘I wanna know what love is…” you hum “I want you to show me” you say out loud. You can see the smile grow on his face.  After he had finished the few last chords of the chorus he stops playing, turning his head towards you

“That's all I know. I told you I wasn’t really that good” he sets the guitar down, his hand moving to cup your face, “however, this one one more hidden talent I need to show you”

It takes your mind a moment to register where this was going, his eyes looking up and down your naked body, a devilish grin on his face as he leans in to kiss you. Using all tongue your brain finally figures it out. You pull away, catching your breath, “oh, that talent…” you smile.

“Mmmmhmm” he nods his head in agreement 

“Ok, Catfish…show me” 

The sun was beating down on your bare back, the skylight above the bed letting you know the morning had come. Your hand running along the empty space next to you. The spot now cold, your eyes fly open wondering where he could have gone, he didn’t…no why would he? You shake the thought as soon as it comes to you. Sitting up, a slight pain, yet pleasure runs between your legs. You look at his pillow, finding a rose and a yellow sticky note. You reach for the flower first and bring it to your nose, setting it on your lap you reach for the yellow paper. Frankie’s handwriting and a small hand drawn heart in the corner 

Estrella, 

I thank my lucky stars everyday that you came into my life. Whenever the skies get to dark and the world feels like it’s caving in. You are there, a light in my darkness. Remember that I love you and that will never change 

-Frankie 

You twirl the flower in your finger, a smile lingering on your face as his voice reads the letter in your mind again. ‘I love you and that will never change’ Frankie was a once in a lifetime kind of man, even after a year of being together you know he is the one for you. You move your legs to the edge of the bed, placing your feet on the floor. You slowly walk to the bathroom, feeling him with every step you take. 

You stop in front of the large mirror above the vanity and sinks. The movie at least got something right, you had a glow about you. Your lips still slightly swollen from kissing Frankie, your hair a mess, Frankie had left a trail of hickeys down your neck and scattered throughout your body. You follow them down to your hips where a small bruise was. You brush a finger over it and flashbacks of Frankie grabbing your waist tightly as he chased his high for the 4th time that night. Or was it morning? 

You freshen up, turning the light off in the bathroom you gingerly walk back in the bedroom and try to find your clothes from the night before. Then you see his grey sweat zip up jacket. A little light and a devilish grin spreads across your face. You slide it on and zip it up just enough to cover your lower half. You push the sleeves up so hands are free and you make your way down the stairs finding Frankie wearing his tight red boxer briefs in the kitchen once again. 

You don’t try to be sneaky, you know with that military training he could hear you coming no matter how hard you tried to be silent. Your arms wrap around his waist, while he flips the pancake. Kissing his back, “you know, you're too good to me?” 

He places the last pancake on a plate. Turning off the stove and facing you, “well I gotta keep you feed some how” he grins “good morning” 

“Morning” you reply before he leans down to kiss you “thank you for the flower”

He nods, fingers playing with the zipper resting just below your chest. Slowly moving you back towards the kitchen island.  Your hands holding his waist just above the band of his boxer briefs. Nose running along yours, your breath catches when he pulls the zipper down exposing your bare body to him.  Hands sliding to hold your hips under the grey fabric, lips finding yours in an unrushed kiss, taking his time making you feel every ounce of love he has for you. Your smile gives him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in, pulling your body closer to his when he does. Your stomach growls, causing him to pull back and chuckle. “Someone really is hungry…” 

“Shut up” 

You push him away, and walk the few steps to grab the plate that he put the pancakes on. The slight twinge of pain is still there when you walk, and you already know that Frankie knows. His face says it all when you turn back to him. “Did I hurt you, I knew I should have stopped…it was to much for the first time” he shakes his head 

“Frankie, hey…hey I’m ok. Really, I’m fine. Great actually” you were. You weren’t lying, you did feel great. Sure maybe you should have stopped after the 4th time but you wanted him more than anything and he did say practice makes perfect 

Frankie, my Francisco…mi Pescado, thank you. Thank you for being patient, thank you for waiting for me. Thank you for this weekend. Thank you for taking your time with me that night. Thank you for letting me love you. Thank you for being my Francisco. I don’t know what this next step of our journey will hold but I can not wait for you to be the last and first thing I see everyday. 

I love you 

MASTERLIST

@littlemisspascal <--Check out other great author's in the Pedro Pascal Library they have created.

[indiekidsau]

Indie Kids Chap.9-Basil's Birthday

Hey guys! So for a while, I wanted to write a birthday chapter for one of the kids. Since it’s February I saw it was Basil’s birthday coming up and figured writing a birthday chapter for a loving flower boy. I decided to post it early since I got it done before Basil’s actual birthday, February 18th (which is fine since I won’t be home on the 18th anyways.)

Just a heads up I’m not going to do a lot of Birthday chapters since it will have the same formula of angst turning happy and that setting a date to release stuff is stressful especially with my life of working, streaming, etc.

Thanks to @gigilefache for being my beta reader!

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~

It was a typical Friday, Basil sat at his seat smiling as he waited for the bell to ring. Tomorrow was his birthday and he was excited as he got some good news.

 “So what’s gotten tomorrow’s Birthday boy excited?” Kel asked.

Basil tried to say what was so exciting about his birthday, but that excitement prevented him from speaking. 

“Come on Basil. The suspense is killing me!” Hat Kid yelled.

Basil chuckled. “Okay. Okay.” He started. “Well, you know how my parents travel for work?” 

“Yeah,” Kel replied. It took one second for it to click in Kel’s mind. “Wait, your parents are finally coming home?”

“Yes!” Basil squealed. “I couldn’t believe it at first, but Polly gave me the news last weekend!” He explained.

“So you and your parents will do something together?” Aubrey asked.

Basil nodded. “Yep! I don’t know what we’re doing, but I’ll figure it out once they land.” He explained. Soon the bell rang and everyone left class. Basil smiled going to his locker and grabbing his stuff before heading home with Aubrey and Kel behind him. “Maybe we can go to a fancy restaurant or go to this butterfly garden.” Basil listed as he thought of fun ideas to do on his birthday.

Kel and Aubrey smiled seeing their friend so excited. Basil hasn’t had a big party for four years now since…well…Aubrey shook off the thought and smiled seeing her best friend happy, but was concerned seeing Basil planning too far ahead to where if it doesn’t happen he’ll just be hurt.

Once the trio made it to Basil’s house they were greeted by Polly taking a phone call. “Oh. I understand, but you know he was excited to see both of you.” Polly said. Basil stopped as he felt his stomach drop. Polly let out a sigh, “Okay, I’ll let him know.”

“Let me know what?” Basil asked.

Polly sighed. “Apparently, there’s a snowstorm where your parents are located and it canceled their flight. They won’t be able to catch a flight until the day after your birthday.” She explained.

A frown quickly formed on Basil’s face, he looked down hoping no one would see his expression. Kel and Aubrey looked at one another before the latter put her hand on Basil’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Basil. I know you were looking forward to it.”

Basil then turned to his two best friends, forcing a smile. “I-it’s alright. These things happen.” He said. Basil started to walk to his room slowly.

How many times had they done this?

“If it makes you feel better, we can celebrate your birthday! It’ll be like old times!” Kel exclaimed.

Basil stopped at the third step of the stairs. “No, it's fine. I can just relax on my birthday.” He then continued his way up the stairs toward his bedroom.

Polly sighed seeing the young boy upset, the same went for Aubrey and Kel. Then Kel got an idea. “Aubrey! join me on a group call on the Chaos app tonight! I got an idea.” He said as he quickly dashed out of Basil’s house.

“I just hope it’s a good one.” Aubrey replied as she followed Kel out of Basil’s house and went home herself. Once she was home Aubrey just did some work on her computer before hearing a call on her Chaos account. She opened the site to see Kel, Michael, Mu, Hat Kid, and Bow Kid on a call. Aubrey was surprised to see Hat and Bow having accounts.

“Hey, Aubrey! Glad you made it!” Kel yelled.

“Hi, Aubrey!” Hat and Bow yelled at the same time.

“Hi, girls!” Aubrey replied. “How did you two get accounts?”

“Kel helped us.” Hat Kid replied. “Now we can chat with you guys.”

The group didn’t see it in the call, but Kel gave a proud smile. “You’re welcome!” He beamed.

Aubrey smiled and rolled her eyes. “So, Kel, what’s this idea you had?” She asked.

“Well since Basil’s parents aren’t coming by. I figured we would give him a surprise party!” Kel explained.

Aubrey smiled. “That would be great, but do we have time to get everything ready in one day?” She asked.

“Don’t worry, Michael and I got it all planned out. I’ll be the one buying the cake, Hat and Bow will handle the decorations.” Kel explained.

“What about Michael?” Aubrey asked.

“I’m gonna help with the party by keeping Basil away.” Michael explained.

“And by you, you mean Elizabeth or Evan, right?” Aubrey asked.

Michael snapped his fingers. “Bingo!” He replied. Aubrey sighed and shook her head.

“Since we're on call we should plan other things for the party, like food and other things.” Aubrey said. As she talked, Aubrey opened up a document and wrote down the ideas for Basil’s surprise party. “Anything else?”

It went quiet in the call for a bit, but soon Hat got an idea. “We can party games!” She added.

Aubrey quickly typed the idea down. “I have a couple we can bring!” She exclaimed. “What else?” Soon everyone started to give out ideas for Basil’s party and Aubrey wrote them down. Once satisfied, Aubrey sent the list to everyone before logging off for the night.

Morning came, and Basil struggled to get out of bed. It took him an hour or two before he felt his stomach rumble which caused him to finally get up and eat breakfast. Once he was done with breakfast he went out to his garden and started to water the plants.

“Well, at least you guys are here for my birthday.” Basil said, talking to his flowers.

“Hi, Basil!” The older boy’s eyes widened. He looked around before seeing Evan and his Fredbear plush.

“Oh hi, Evan!” Basil said.

“May I come in?” Evan asked.

“Sure.” 

Evan smiled and came through the fence and ran up  to Basil. “Happy Birthday by the way!” He beamed.

Basil gave a light chuckle. “Thanks.” He replied. Basil continued watering his plants as Evan watched him. The young boy looked around Basil’s garden looking at all the pretty plants.

“So is this all you're gonna do today?” Evan asked.

Basil nodded. “Yep. Figured my plants need some water with how cold it’s been.” He said.

“How about later tonight, I mean it is your birthday after all.” Evan said. Basil shook his head. “Well, could I at least stay? I mean no one should be alone on their birthday.” 

“Well…” Basil trailed off as he thought about it. His new plan now was to be at home, take care of his plants and relax. “I guess some company wouldn’t hurt.”

Evan smiled. “Thank you!” Basil chuckled and went back to watering his plants. The two were quiet and Evan had to think of what conversation to have with Basil to keep him occupied before the surprise party. “Sorry that your parents couldn’t make it to your birthday.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.” Basil replied.

The young boy wasn’t impressed with the answer as he held Fredbear tighter. “Well, at least it’s not like my birthdays. Daddy isn’t around to celebrate with us, and all Michael likes to do is scare me and ruin my day.” Evan explained.

Basil frowned hearing Evan’s words. To him, that was worse than what he went through on his birthday. “Well, that’s mean!” He shouted. “Then again I’ve known Michael for a while so it’s not surprising.”

Evan nodded in reply. Soon, he decided to look around Basil’s garden and admired all the plants. There he saw six plants in different colored pots. “Basil! What’s this?” He asked.

Basil turned off the hose and went over to where Evan was and stopped. “Oh, those are the flowers that remind me of my friends and I,” He explained. “So the Sunflower is me, the cactus is Kel, the tulips is Sunny, and the gladiolus is Aubrey.”

Evan nodded. “What about those two?” He asked, pointing to the rose and the lily of the valley.

“The rose is Kel’s brother, Hero, and the lily of the valley is Sunny’s sister…” he paused, seeing it was hard to say Mari’s name.

“I didn’t know Sunny had an older sister!” Evan exclaimed.

“Well, he doesn’t talk about her that much.” Basil explained.

“Was she nice?” 

“Very nice!” Basil then went quiet and figured it was time to go back inside. “Wanna come inside?” He asked.

Evan shook his head. “No, I gotta head home.” He replied.

“Oh if you want I can walk you home if that’s okay with you.” Basil said. Evan nodded and Basil was right behind him as they walked back to the Afton household. As they walked, Evan took a turn which confused Basil. “Evan! Isn’t your house this way?” He asked. Evan didn’t listen but instead followed him to the park. Maybe he wanted to play a bit or maybe Elizabeth was around and he wanted to grab her too.

Once through the bushes, Basil stopped seeing his classmates shoutout, “SURPRISE!” 

Basil blinked, feeling tears from his eyes. “Happy Birthday Basil!” Evan yelled again hugging the older boy.

“W-what’s going on?” Basil asked.

“Well, Kel felt bad that your parents couldn’t make it to your birthday so he gave us the idea of giving you a surprise party!” Aubrey explained.

Kel smiled proudly. “You’re welcome!” He beamed.

“Kel brought the cake!” Hat Kid started. “Mu, Bow, and I set up the decorations!”

“With help from Aubrey and Michael.” Mu added.

“And Elizabeth and I brought extra snacks and games we can play!” Bow added.

Basil felt the tears fall from his eyes and wiped them away. “You guys did all this for me?” He asked.

“Of course.” Sunny said.

Basil couldn’t hold it in anymore and started to break down crying. Aubrey, Kel, and Sunny gave a smile as they walked toward their friend. They knew this was a mix of sad tears and tears of joy. The three hugged their friend who smiled feeling comfort from the hug.

Evan smiled and ran towards the four teens and hugged them as well. Soon Hat and Bow, who dragged Mu along, hugged Basil, and finally, Elizabeth, who forced her older brother, hugged Basil as well. The latter smiled, feeling the love from everyone.

Once everyone let go the group went over to Basil’s birthday cake and sang him “Happy Birthday.” Once they were done he blew out the candles. 

“Thanks, guys! If I only had my camera I’d take a photo of this!” Basil cried.

“Don’t worry about that!” Kel yelled as he pulled out Basil’s camera. “Sorry, I stole it before I left yesterday. Had to figure out how it worked so I could do this, it’s still confusing,” He said. Basil chuckled as he set his camera up and ushered everyone to squeeze into the photo so no one was left behind.

As the camera flashed the group did smiles and goofy faces. When Basil took the photo out and saw it he couldn’t help but laugh.

“It was my birthday today! And my friends made it one of the best ones ever!”

[percontaion-points]

Lost Boys chapters 21 & 22

Click here for the rest of the series!

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 21

Okay, I was having that same weird dream again, I thought to myself. It was the same moonless night in that infinite desert and the same gothlooking girl was sitting next to me. I sat up and turned towards her. 

No. 

You get to pick ONE plot. 

And I feel like the author lost that right when she glossed over Joe talking with Ms. Violet about this. 

THAT WAS TWO GODDAMNED WEEKS AGO!

“Yes. That night at the cemetery, you called me.” 

Apprehension gripped my stomach. “What night?”

Considering that Joe hasn’t been back to the cemetery since… Take a goddamned wild guess. 

Sky. Her name is Sky.

 “That’s a good one!” I heard her whisper in my ear, and then I woke up completely, and the dream faded from my mind like twirling leaves scattered by the wind. 

The sound of his alarm woke Seth up too. He wanted to rehearse the new songs today, even though it was Saturday. He’d decided that two days a week to practice wasn’t good enough for “the band”, so we were rehearsing three afternoons in the week, and now apparently we were going to practice all weekend too. Seth was riding us pretty hard with all the band practice, but I didn’t mind; rehearsal time was like the most amazing time ever for me!

Why does the book even fucking bother at this point? 

This isn’t a supernatural romance novel. Take out the first couple of chapters, and nobody would ever fucking know. 

Our little unnoticed band was finally starting to get noticed inside Sagan’s grounds.

Chapter 21 summary: The book finally remembered that it has a plot other than a high school band. Joe finds herself in a dream with the weird goth girl, whom we haven’t seen since Tristan first turned human. The girl warns Joe that she’s playing a dangerous game, and chides her for not even knowing who she is when Joe “called her” that night. Then she laughs over Joe recounting that she gave the mysterious man a name of Vigil and punched him. 

However, the second Joe wakes up, she forgets about the dream, so IDK what the point of any of that was. We’re back to business as usual, which is frustrating, because as I keep saying… Pick one plot here! 

Before the group gets together to rehearse, Tristan checks in with Joe to make sure that she was okay with their kiss last night. She assures him that she is 100% okay with it… and would like to repeat it again soon. 

Then one of The Boys™ comes in and starts talking about how everybody but one hooked up last night. However, he can’t sense if a girl had hooked up, so Joe is somehow scott-free. 

Chapter 22

I was baffled. “I-I-I … There was NO hookup!” I shouted, stamping my foot. “And even if there had been, it’s none of your goddamn business! And these bets are awful! You are all awful people! You want some gossip to spread around? Spread this one: if I ever hear that someone has made a bet on me again, I’ll kick their ass! Got it?” I snapped, and stomped off to my next class. 

That is the correct response. 

That and telling the staff that the students are making bets on who can fuck other students. I’m sure that the staff would LOOOOOVE to hear about that!

“I always get this feeling you’re hiding something from me, Joe. I thought that, with time, you’d trust me and tell me what it is … It’s the reason you won’t give Harry a chance, isn’t it?”

I don’t know how to explain to you that it’s possible not to have a mysterious, hidden boyfriend but also somehow not be interested in a second guy. 

“I’m telling you the truth, Tiff. Really,” I said nervously. 

She stared at me for a few seconds in silence. “Fine. If you want to be like that, be like that, then.” She looked hurt. “I thought you were my friend.”

I’m sorry, but I’m not on Tiff’s side here. She’s kind of being an asshole about the entire thing. 

“Come on, Gray. Don’t play coy now. We all saw you two that night, holding hands, dancing. You were all over each other. The whole school is talking about it. Let him have his prize!”

[...]

“Have you heard what people are saying about us all over school? Did you have anything to do with it?” I interrogated him.

Why the hell would Harry have to say anything? Joe even fucking remembered walking back to the party with Harry and they were holding hands! She said that “I know how it looks, but other people don’t understand Harry’s need for physical touch like his friends do” when it happened.

YOU DON’T GET TO BE FUCKING ANGRY THAT THERE’S A RUMOUR GOING AROUND WHEN YOU KNEW EXACTLY HOW IT WOULD LOOK!

“What’s this nonsense now? First I’m hooking up with Harry, now I have to go out with Seth. This day is getting really weird!”

Suddenly, a love triangle doesn’t seem so bad!

“Then he told me he’s going to ask you out today. On a date. So you see, we need to tell him.”

I don’t know how to explain to you that there’s this magic word that will get Joe out from a possible date with Seth. And that word is “no”. 

Joe rooming with a boy was a huge mistake. Her mum should have raised a bigger fuss. 

“Well, we’ve been talking a lot these days, and we both have been suspicious about you two. You are always acting really weird around each other, and all the silent glances and whispered conversations made us wonder something was up. So we come up with a plan,” she said, putting her arm around Seth’s shoulder. “Seth here was going to push on the ‘dating Joey’ thing. That would put a pressure on Tristan to tell him what’s going on between you two. If that failed, I was going to bring out the ‘best friend card’ with you, Joey. We expected you or Tristan would crack soon. And it worked!”

From their perspective, they still think that Tristan and Joe are half-siblings! I can’t even begin to imagine what must be going through their heads right now. 

That made all the difference in the world and my heart felt a whole lot lighter.

Chapter 22 summary: Joe is approached by one of Tiffany’s “cheerleader friends”, who loudly proclaims that Joe has to “cough up the name of the boy you hooked up with at the party”. That the prize is a week of physics homework done by so-and-so, who runs a homework scam business. However, Joe gets into the other girl’s face and tells her that if she hears anybody else making bets about hook-ups, she’s going to kick their ass. 

In first period, Joe then gets into a fight with Tiff when she refuses to tell Tiff what her huge secret actually is. Later, Joe is approached by an unknown girl, who is upset that Joe is taking the credit for having hooked up with Harry. I guess after he left Joe, he actually did hook up with her. Joe is frustrated that there’s now so many nasty rumours going around school about her… But half of them are her own making. She tells the girl the truth about all of them, but the girl’s take-away is that Harry likes her. Which Joe also didn’t say. 

Joe then spends the rest of the morning in the nurse’s office with a splitting headache. When lunch rolls around, she feels better, so she goes to meet Tristan, which they’d agreed to do previously. He tells her that Seth has been talking non-stop about asking her out, and that they have to tell him the truth. Joe agrees, but only on the condition that they also tell Tiff. 

So they gather Seth and Tiff in the bedroom, and explain that Tristan isn’t actually related to Joe. That it’s a lie they cooked up in order to get him enrolled in the school. So Seth and Tiff can’t tell anybody. Tiff and Seth then explain that they knew something was up, so they cooked up this plan to get the two of them to confess. Joe feels a lot better after having gotten that off her chest. 

[inquisitor-of-hearts]

Escalate (6)

After some consideration Galeb decides to not follow the Beckoning. Hazel is quick to act and entrusts him with a new task for the Camarilla.

Spoilers for all of Vampire the Masquerade: Swansong.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,658

Link to Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

on Ao3

(picture source)

The reason I came with you Is your great disguise

Drown in your myth I would stay there for a while

A few nights had passed. Galeb had taken Cyrene out again, though he had insisted on bringing her back in time to get enough sleep. Cyrene had agreed to talk to Hartwell and promised to call at the end of the week. Eventually, as expected, Galeb’s phone rang while he was getting dressed, his hand holding onto the tie he was about to put around his neck, the first few buttons of his dress shirt still undone. He let go off the tie’s smooth fabric and picked up the phone instead.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.” Cyrene greeted.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course. I hope you’re doing alright, too?”

“Everything is well, yes. Thank you for asking.” he responded formally. “Why are you calling?”

“Yes, so… I’ve asked Hartwell.”

Galeb’s eyes widened. He had taken his time to convince her, to build it up slowly. It was now that the first test came to pass. All these nights that he had held back the Beast, continued to hold up the Masquerade, executed the orders he had with the utmost precision and caution.

“He said he would be alright with looking into doing business with you. It took me some convincing to explain your company would be a valuable long-term client to have. But he agreed only under the condition that he can meet you.”

“Of course. That’s great news.” Galeb’s back straightened up as he leaned back from the couch’s armrest that he had laid his tie over.

“Yeah, well… he insisted it to be during daytime. Is that alright with you?”

A soft groan, indicating a chance missed, escaped the Kindred.

“I can’t make it. What if I send a representative to vouch for me?”

“I think he’d like to meet you personally. He likes to know the people he does business with.”

“The person I’d be sending knows all about our business, the essentials anyway. Some things even better than me I think. Or I could arrange a driver to pick Hartwell up so we can meet in the early evening.”

“I’m not sure he’d be alright with being picked up by someone he doesn’t know. Even with me being present. I think that’ll be pushing it.” Cyrene cautioned.

“Of course.” Galeb raised his wrist to look at his watch, gauging the possible hours of the appointment. It was 7:05 pm. Sundown started at 6 at this time of the year, completed at around 6:30 pm. “7:30 pm is the earliest I personally could make it. Could you talk to him?”

Cyrene sighed.

“I can try. It won’t be easy.”

“I’m so sorry, Cyrene. I’m relying on you too much.”

“No, no.” she insisted. “I’ll try. I just think he won’t agree.”

“How about a surprise visit with you and me? Or just casual drinks after dinner?”

“Oh no, he hates surprises.” she laughed. “And he doesn’t go out just for drinks usually.”

“Huh” Galeb turned and sank down on the couch, brushing the armrest that had the tie still laid over it.

“Yeah” Cyrene’s reluctance was palpable. “I’ll try, okay? I’ll call you again in the next few days.”

“Of course. Thank you, I owe you. And I hope to see you soon when you have time.”

“No promises so don’t thank me yet. But sure, see you soon. Maybe on the weekend.”

Galeb waited for her to hang up, a few seconds of silence passed between them.

“Bye.” she finally said.

“Bye, Cyrene.”

The phone line was cut at last and Galeb stared at the screen. He dialed a number that he had not saved in his phone book and let it ring. On the other side someone picked up, although no sound was heard, other than the click the phone did when someone picked up.

“It’s me. Bring the car around. … Yes. I also need you to arrange something else…”

Cyrene stood in the elevator next to Galeb, holding a little card that she started reading out loud.

“Dearest Cyrene. My gratitude for you is immeasurable.”

Galeb was unmoved as she turned the card around and found nothing on there, then chuckled again while she watched him.

“You’re a man of few words, you know that? But very romantic I have to admit.” she commented and Galeb had to hold back a shrug to not appear too nonchalant. He had not want to lay it on too thick. The bouquet in turn was colourful and huge. Cyrene had mentioned how the delivery person had trouble passing it through the doorway. Actions spoke louder than words after all.

They were sat in the oriental tea lounge once more, a space that had become a spot of seclusion to them, where they could speak of everything without being scared of others hearing them. At least Galeb felt that way, given the fact that it was run by other Kindred, some of which he knew personally.

Cyrene stole a few glances at him here and there while they were talking, making his blood boil. After a few hours it always became unbearable. He had held back each and every time but each and every time it felt to him like this was the night he was going to lose control.

“You’re okay? Lots on your mind again?” She put her cup down before looking at him.

“Always. You know how it is.” He swallowed.

“I have a feeling you work much harder than I do. Sometimes it seems like you work night and day.”

You could say that, he thought to himself. But with a held back smile, he shook his head.

“No, I don’t think so. You work harder, Cyrene. You did such a great job convincing Hartwell.”

“That was particularly hard.” she laughed, holding a finger up for emphasis.

“And still you managed to. I’d really like to make it up to you. Name anything you want.”

“Anything? Well, I could think of something.” She looked him up and down with a sly smile. He smiled back, catching onto the message. In the dim room his pale skin did not stand out, the change of his complexion turning into a healthy alive one through the Blush of Life could barely be noticed. His body became warm. He shifted closer to her, an arm around her waist, at which she already became his. She turned towards him automatically, their lips meeting in an almost breathless kiss. She moaned softly, the human breath felt on his lips demanding his self-restraint. He leaned back eventually.

“That’s all?” he spoke in half a whisper, his hand cupping her face while his thumb ran over her cheek affectionately. He watched her closely, her eyes fixed on him the whole time.

“I couldn’t possibly ask for more.” she breathed and watched his lips. He caught onto it once more, kissing her with yet more desire, holding the back of her head cautiously. She sighed as she pulled away, her fingers grasping onto his shirt.

“What is it?” He asked calmly.

“Nothing” she breathed, looking down as if deliberately avoiding his gaze. “I think we should head back.”

“It’s late. I understand.” he agreed, his hand running towards her shoulder, holding her affectionately. “But there’s something on your mind, I can tell. I’d like you to talk to me.”

She shook her head.

“No, it’s nothing. I’m just tired from this week.” she answered.

He let go of her carefully, his hand brushing over her arm while he did. It was obvious she was lying but with her sighing and breathing, her throat so dangerously close to his mouth, he could not risk it to insist, to make her tell him the truth. Maybe he could afford it, but he chose not to. Something in her moved him. She was so vulnerable, weak. Human. Prey, after all. It was a sense of pity that he felt. The fragile state of his remaining humanity. But it was this vulnerability, this innocence in her that he also admired -- and yet wanted to devour.

As they walked down the corridor and called the elevator, Galeb could feel the hair on his arms standing upright suddenly. The presence of another of his kind, close to them. He remembered the past times he felt like that and started to wonder whether another Kindred was playing tricks on him. He was aware and relaxed about the other vampires at the tea lounge and at the other places they visited but in this secluded space a sole predator’s presence brought his feral instincts to the surface. He was guided by the Beast. The other Kindred needed to be hunted down.

With a hand around Cyrene’s waist he drew her surprised gaze onto him.

“Wait in the lobby downstairs for me. Stay with my driver. I need a moment.” he spoke to her ear quietly, almost seductively but with a clear message. She nodded, following suit. With one hand around her, the other holding the button of the elevator, Galeb guided her inside but remained in the corridor as the doors closed. The digital display showed the car descending. He turned around.

“Show yourself.” He demanded, his tone taking on the one of a merciless executioner. “Face me. I’ve had enough of these games.”

His fingers curled against his palm, the tattoo on the back of his hand standing out clearly in the brightly lit corridor. While his back faced the elevator, his gaze was drawn to the side and he took note of the emergency exit without turning his head. Finally the other Kindred’s trick dissolved and her shape appeared before him.

“Bazory” she greeted in that familiar tone, dressed casually in black, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “What a surprise. Never thought I’d see you with your guard down like that.”

[asoulofatlantis]

Guess whos back? Back again? Monas back! Tell a friend! XD

All jokes and Eminem-Songs aside (did I just date myself? XD) after 3 blissful weeks off, I have reached my last weekend before my very much hated much calls me back to earn the money I need to afford being able to play games. And with recent Kai CVs and stuff and so close to Kais release, I feel like I have reached the usual point were I can only play one thing: A Trails game. And with my Twitter-Timeline (X? What is that? Never heard of it ;P) reminding me of all the great moments from the Sky-Games I've decided to finally go back and try to finish my rerun. (I probably kick my ass if a remake really will be revealed at the end of the year tho XD)

I am not really sure why I did stop were I stopped. Playing such an old game with not many quality of life improvements and some crashes here and there is surely not easy, but when I finished the last chapter I actually posted that it was nice. So why stop there? Well anyway... we have yet to met my second blond angel, so lets return to the land of Liberl...

Oh! We are not so far away from Tita, it seems...

Kloe was able to face and rethink her decision regarding a certain throne thanks to Joshua and Estelle. Thanks to them and their assistance she saw that her country needed her and finally started realizing that it was egoistic of her to refuse the throne and give it to her... uh... uncle? No... great cousin? No... Uh... he is the Queens Nepthew so... uh... her great Nephew? Oh whatever! You know what I mean! The man only ever thinks of himself and uses his position for his own benefits and that man is supposed to become King of Liberl one day because Kloe didn't feel up to the challenge and wanted to live a normal life.

Despite all my anger and frustration at her... I do understand her a bit tho. We've seen what the pressure of being heir to the throne can do to someone with Cedric. And we also saw multiple times the dangers such a title entails. I would likely be scared of it too... so that is one thing I certainly would not hold against her. But its still good that her experience with the Bracers made her rethink her situation.

We Trails-Players shall love all of our animal companions/mascots very much! That is the rule of Trails ♥

This tunnel gives me some serious PTSD because of the Dungeon it will eventually lead me to and I guess I remember now why I would stop here, so shortly before FINALLY meeting Tita.

Because Joshuas first kiss belongs to Estelle. His lips only belong to her. And we very much fight hard for her to finally kiss him, just to... yeah... I am getting ahead of myself here XD

Oh my dear sweet Trails-Protagonist... XD

Why oh why could she feel relieved about the fact that Joshua and Kloe did not in fact Kiss? What reason could there be? If we only knew... XD

Seriously tho, the way our Trails protagonists handle their feelings is ridiculous.

Estelle Siblings-Zoned Joshua, trying to ship him with every girl but herself until it FINALLY clicked with her that she wanted to be shipped with him.

Lloyd thought that he could bot be with Elie because she came from such a good prestigious family and he wasn't worthy or her and in the process of only thinking but not telling her that he digged himself a hole.

Rean on the other hand, rushed to save Alisa from an unknown danger and even tho it brought him a slap in the face and some dreadful weeks of wondering how to fix this little problem... it ended up absolutely in his favor with Alisa being THE girl of all girls for him and he still managed to obliviously flirt left, right and center with the girls surrounding him even if you make it so he does no other bonding events with any girl but Alisa XD

And then there is Van... talking about his relationship with Elaine like its just been them misjudging their feelings, being absolutely oblivious to that Dancer girl having feelings for him and not seeing Agnes as a woman and... we will see how this will play out but even if he ends up with Elaine (which is most likely the case - much to my dismay...) it still has been some road to get there ^^'

Tita! My girl! My child! My Angel! My Baby! I missed her so much! And look how adorable she was as a child. She is so darn cute!

Look who we have here! Many familiar faces today XD

I'd say I did miss you Killika, but you are still not dating Zin so... yeah... not so sure about missing you until you have done that XD Jokes aside, it is weird seeing her in that Asioan dress, given how she looks like a businesswoman in Calvard these days ^^'

XD

Professor Russel is seriously the only sane one among all those old geezers who do sciences and engineering ^^' I mean look at Alisas father... or Professor Smidt (how was his name written again?) and their is something screaming SECRETS about Hamilton as well - and no, that is not just me being paranoid because its always the guys with the labcoats XD

All jokes aside... Professor Russel might be the only sane person among the old guys, but his daughter on the other hand... how she could have produced my sweet angel Tita is still beyond me ^^'

Uhm... uh... maybe I take it back that he is the only sane one among them ^^'

Oh! Dorothy! I totally forgot that we see each other quite often. And that she is... a bit of a magnet for trouble XD

Its actually mandatory for a Trails game to have some sort of hot spring or hot bath or something like that. It makes me want to go to a hot spring one day too XD