#but i just wish i knew some people who share my level of enthusiasm

[m4xlesbian]

.

[nat-20s]

Part 5 of Wonderful! Au. *boyband voice* banter’s back alright!

Also on AO3

~*~

Jon: Hello everyone, and welcome back to our regular format. If my husband being horribly soppy-

Martin:-hey!-

Jon: -turned you off the how, this should be a refreshing return to formula, though I can’t guarantee there won’t be further horrible soppiness-

Martin, performatively under his breath: -most people thought it was charming-

Jon: -as that tends to happen when one is recording with the love of their life. If last week’s episode is the only one that you like, too bad, I’m back in full form, and should be at least through the rest of the season.

Martin: This show doesn’t have seasons? Due to the whole lack of a narrative thing?

Jon: I was referring to spring.

Martin: Oh, right.

[A beat passes.]

Martin, flatly: Oh. Great goof hon.

Jon, smug: Thank you.

Jon, sincere: Also, before we get properly started, I did want to actually thank everyone who sent well wishes.

M artin: Yes! We got positively inundated with lovely messages, it definitely brightened both of our days. I would even say it was wonderful.

[Jon groans.]

Jon: I am..not proud of the energy we’ve created for this episode so far, and we haven’t even hit the small wonders. Speaking of, do you have a small wonder this week?

Martin: Mine’s bad action movies.

Jon: Really? I had no idea you even liked them, let alone consider them wonderful.

Martin: Okay, so, saying I like them is a bit of a misnomer? It’s more that I like what they can do more than the movies themselves?

Jon: Elaborate?

Martin: It probably comes as a surprise to no one that I’ve tried my hand at a fair amount of mindfulness and mediation techniques. I’ve found poetry and journaling have been helpful for actually processing life events and whatnot, but when it comes to giving your brain a hard wipe and reset, nothing is half as quick and effective as a shitty shoot-em-up. Somethings about 2 hours of cartoonish, pg-13 violence held together with the absolute loosest of plots brings me to a state of mental blankness that would make a monk jealous.

Jon: How have I never witnessed you doing this? When are you sneaking off to go see Micheal Tarantino or who ever films?

M artin: That’s definitely not the right name.

Jon: Martin, dear, I don’t care. And you’re dodging the question.

Martin, fond: I’m not dodging anything. Since apparently we’re getting into it, you haven’t caught me cavorting with a movie involving more explosions than character development lately because I haven’t been. Haven’t needed it, in recent years. Turns out when you’re not crushingly lonely and working a literal nightmare of job, there’s less of a drive to try and escape your own thoughts. Shocker, I know. Still, to anyone out there that feels like their brain is on fire, go try watching a fast and furious. Any of ‘em, it doesn’t matter. Or even better, Chronicles of Riddick. I can’t remember a single goddamn detail of that movie, which makes it perfect for what I’m talking about.

Jon: I have the strong feeling that th is is a “mileage may vary” scenario.

Martin: Well, yeah, that’s this whole podcast. Plus, I imagine that movies like this would cause more stress to someone who cares about, say, world-building or rules consistency.

Jon: I wonder who you could possibly be referring to.

Martin: It’s a purely hypothetical person, love, don’t worry about it. Any small wonders?

Jon: Yes! Particularly relevant to the last week, my small wonder is stripping the sheets from your bed when it’s been too long between washes.

Martin: How very specific. M ost people would just say ‘clean sheets’.

Jon: Well, for one, I’m fairly certain that we’ve already covered clean sheets-

Martin: Shit, have we? Thank god other people keep track of this, otherwise this show would be unbearably repetitive.

Jon: Christ, yes. I typically check the website a good three times while prepping, and every about one out of those three times I find I’m trying to do an topic we did 30 episodes again. Anyway, um, it’s just nice, I think. When you’ve been too busy or sick or away for awhile, tossing the sheets in the wash makes a room instantly seem nicer. Of all the chores out there, this one, at least for me, has the highest reward to effort ratio.

Martin: Hard agree. Especially when the y have that slight funk of having been around to long, getting rid of that is such a relief. Speaking of, we need to change our sheets soon.

Jon: We can do it after the episode. Who goes first this week?

Martin: Considering last week was only me talking, I’m gonna say it’s you.

Jon: Alright, then. My first thing this week is Martin K. Blackwood.

Martin: Absolutely not!

Jon: Oh, you can do a whole episode on me, but I can’t do one little segment on my husband, whom I love very dearly?

Martin: Not while I’m sat here, no!

Jon: So you’re saying you don’t want me to tell the internet that your resolve to be kind even in the face of indescribable cruelty is one of the mot breathtaking things I’ve ever witnessed, or how I find it incredibly endearing when you get so emotional that your voice comes out as a squeak, or even that, on a more base level, you’re very physically attractive, and I could lose entire days thinking about your arms alone?

Martin, audibly blushing, voice the aforementioned squeak: Oh my god, Jon!

Jon, laughing: Then it’s probably for the best that my actual first thing is best friends.

Martin, peaking the audio levels: Oh you absolute bastard! Do you enjoy this? Do you get some sort of perverse sense of entertainment from riling me up?

Jon: Oh, don’t you start. As if you’re not as bad as I am. Maybe even worse.

Martin: That’s not…

Jon: Yes?

Martin: Okay. Maybe it’s slightly true. Really, what is romance for if not flustering your partner with compliments?

Jon, teasing: I certainly can’t think of anything.

Martin: Hush, you.

Jon: No, I don’t think I will.

Martin: Fine. I suppose you can tell our delightful audience about the power of friendship or whatever.

Jon: I would’ve assumed more enthusiasm, considering this segment is still, indirectly, about you.

Martin: In what way?

Jon: In the way that, to the shock of all, you’re my best friend.

Martin, pleased: Oh, is that what I am?

Jon, exasperated: Yes, dearest husband, I wouldn’t have married you otherwise. Though, upon reflection, I knew you were my best friend before I knew I held romantic feelings for you.

Martin: When was that?

Jon, letting out a breath that vibrates his lips: God it was...2016? I think it might’ve literally been the day after you told me about your CV.

Martin: That early? Huh. I wonder if that’s what people were picking up when they said they we were close.

Jon: What people?

Martin: I don’t know specifically, that’s just what Daisy told me.

Jon: Daisy? When the hell-?

Martin: It...was when she was interrogating me? And, because sometimes I have to be a parody of myself, pretty much my only take away from that interrogation was “people think me and Jon are close”.

Jon: Well then. It’s not like they were wrong.

Martin, smug: No, no they weren’t.

Martin, sincere: And you’re my best friend, too.

Jon: I was certainly hoping that you’re in this relationship for more than my good looks and incredible fortune, both in the monetary and luck sense.

Martin: You say that as if you aren’t good looking, which we all know is patently untrue.

Jon: You’re biased. You’d say I was good looking if I were nothing more than some primordial ooze with thoughts about its station.

Martin: I’m being completely objective. If you were primordial ooze with thoughts above its station, you’d be the cutest ooze of them all. That’s just scientific fact.

Jon: I’m starting to think we might be insufferable.

Martin: Starting to? Might be?

Jon:…

[Jon clears his throat]

Jon: What I find wonderful about the concept of best friends is, to me, they’re the closest thing real life has to soulmates. I don’t personally believe that there’s some..grand mystic force that drives people to be tied together in the manner that narrative typical soulmates are, and if there was I don’t think it would necessarily be the kind of emotional, heartfelt bond one would hope for, but I do believe that there’s individuals that get to know one another, and because of that knowledge, they chose to stick with one another. It doesn’t have to be a romantic, which is why I say best friend rather than specifically ‘spouse’, but I would argue that the basis of a strong romance like you and I have, is very much rooted in that connection. A true best friendship is an equal partnership, and there’s a sense of..matched sensibilities and understanding that can be utterly incandescent when it happens.

I also think that having one or more best friends makes living life on a day to day basis both better and just flat easier. The dark times aren’t as dark, and the bright times shine even more. I know from my own personal experience there are events that I..that I don’t know how I would’ve made it through without you. Hell, last week my..recovery period would’ve taken much longer if you hadn’t been there.

It’s an amazing thing to have someone to share things with, both triumphs and burdens. Um, also, according to Dictionary.com, the term best friends in English has been around since the 1200s. Something about that delights me, like, yes, we’ve had this casual way of referring to a Favorite Person for roughly 800 years. That makes it a hold-out from early Middle English. I dunno, it’s one of those things that make me feel overall very charmed by humanity.

Martin, audibly smiling: No, yeah, hard agree.

Jon: What’s that look for?

Martin: Nothing. Just. I love you a whole lot, you know that?

Jon, voice soft: I may have heard you say that once or twice. Per hour.

Martin: Only that often? I really need to be more diligent about that.

[There’s a bet of silence, presumably where they’re making doe eyes at each other.]

Jon: What’s your first thing?

Martin: Oh, um, right. Rats!

Jon: The expression or the animal?

Martin: Jon, have you ever once heard me say “rats” as an expression? Obviously I’m referring to the animal.

Jon: Ah. Should’ve known, considering that what, a third?, of all your segments have been on animals.

Martin: Yeah? And? You got a problem with critters? With creatures? With lil guys?

Jon, laughing: No, no, it’s very sweet. I’m just surprised you never became a vet.

Martin: Oh believe me, I wanted to. But then I learned that it was not, in fact, a job composed entirely of getting paid to play with other people’s pets.

Jon: You had that job, though, didn’t you? I thought I remembered you mentioning a month long stint at a doggie day care.

Martin, sighing dreamily: Best job I ever had. Too bad that place was shut down after it was revealed to be a money laundering front.

Jon: Good lord.

Jon: Martin did you...did you know it was a money laundering front at the time?

Martin:

Martin: Would it make you feel better if I said no?

Jon: Martin!

Martin: I figured it out like a week in, but, like, who cares? The pay was decent and the floor was super easy to clean, which is very much a plus for even a front of a doggie day care.

Jon: That’s...rather a lot. How about instead of getting into that any further, you tell me about rodents.

Martin: I would love to. But first, we have a shoutout!

Jon: Ooo, a shoutout. Does it specify who should read?

Martin: Let me check. It...does...not…..

...

Jon: Martin?

[A beat.]

Martin: Right! Sorry, um. This week’s shoutout is from Tim, to Danny. It says, “Danny! My favorite person who shares genetic material with me! I wanted to say thank you for your podcast obsession from 4 months ago, and specifically for telling me about these marrieds. They’ve gotten me through many a dull hour at the publishing house. Also, with this shoutout, I’ve officially gotten ahead on the Superior [Last Name Redacted] Brother scoreboard, so suck it. Love you lots, and looking forward to your visit next month, Tim.”

Jon: Oh.

Jon: Um. That’s very..sweet? I think? Mostly?

Martin: Yeah, I’d say so. Uh. We have to take a quick break because, uh, someone is..at our front door! Be back with you all in, from your side of things, just a moment.

[stellocchia]

I really liked Wilbur's lore stream from yesterday, so you guys are getting a short stream analysis from me

As always dialogue is color-coded: Wilbur, Tubbo, Ranboo

And since I'm the least concise person ever everything is under the cut

The stream is (DSMP LORE) A Year Later

The stream starts with Wilbur singing the L'Manburg anthem to Ranboo. It is interesting to notice that, just like all the streams since he's been back he doesn't start off the stream by addressing chat in any way but already taking with someone in-universe.

"I'm a big big fan of the song (...) (Wilbur notices that Ranboo was muted) so sorry, let's try again: have you heard that song before?" "Yeah I have, I have. I have- I've had a friend that sings it quite a lot" “Good, good, and I was gonna say, it’s obviously based on Hallelujah right? But the thing is, the thing is Ranboo, right? But the thing is- the thing is Ranboo, right? Is that the reason we did it is because Tommy used to sing Hallelujah to the plants" "Oh, to the plants?" "Yeah! In- in the- around the- around the uhm... around the thing! You know the- the caravan? (...) so, my man, Tommy used to sing to the plants to make them grow better and that was the song he used to sing and so I thought what a way to honour Tommy, you know, one of the most- one of the most loyal members or of our fair nation than by naming the song after him, you know? And singing it based on his little- his little Muse. Tommy is a- Tommy is all of our Muse really I'd say"

I cut as much of this quote as I could while still leaving it well understandable and leaving in everything I wanted to talk about, but man is it long... So let's break it down a bit at a time:

1) The friend that Ranboo referenced that sings the anthem a lot is most likely Tubbo considering that they met him later on in this stream while he was singing that very song

2) The memory of the song seems to still be a particularly pleasant one for Wilbur, which probably explains why Ghostbur as well was so fond of it. He speaks about it positively throughout and it generally seems like an overall positive moment of reminiscence, probably because it's a callback to a simpler time when Wilbur too was, you know, happier overall. It's a reminder of a time before the worsening of his spiral.

3) Also interesting that they kept it in canon that Tommy singing to the plants was what inspired the anthem. Especially because I'm not entirely sure if that's the case considering that the actual anthem wasn't written by cc!Wilbur but by a fan upon his request (obviously this is outside the story).

4) Last thing I wanted to mention was Wilbur describing Tommy as a Muse. Muses in mythology are the inspirational goddesses of the arts, music, and science, Tommy aside from the anthem obviously isn't that. But it is interesting that Tommy does take a central role when it comes to motivating people. We could say that Techno's speech on the 16th was inspired by him since it was directed at him. Similarly, Niki and Jack had their arcs revolving around him. Tommy was able to rally the troops with ease multiple times. And Dream's obsession with him itself is the main motivator for, like, 90% of his actions. So, while he may not cover the role of a muse literally it's not a comparison that is too far off...

They headed to the museum afterward and took notice of the Ranboo poster being missing. And then they headed off to L'Manburg (which, by the way, looks amazing, thank you cc!Phil for that one).

"It goes by L'Manhole now apparently" "I- yeah it's kinda- ugh- I'm not a fan. It's kinda rude to L'Manburg's history, you know? It- it's called L'Manburg. It's called L'Manburg. NOT Manberg, not L'Crater or whatever. L'Manhole, I don't care, it's now L'Manburg, it's always L'Manburg, okay?"

It's interesting that not too long ago he was saying that even L'Manburg itself (with an emphasis on the name) wasn't what was actually important, the purpose of it was. He admits later on that he lied in that conversation, but it's impressive how quickly he trusted Ranboo enough to let him see how much he still cared about L'Manburg when he was so intent on lying about it not too long ago.

Wilbur's enthusiasm about seeing the flag is another nice confirmation about him still caring deeply for his old nation.

"Damn, I really went down to bedrock, didn't I? Holy shit I did- I did a number on this place" (I wonder why Ranboo didn't correct him on this, because Ranboo knows that Techno, Phil, and Dream are the ones who actually exploded the country down to bedrock...)

They end up seeing Tubbo on the other side of the crater and head over to him. While they're heading there Tubbo is singing the anthem himself in a very mournful tone.

One interesting thing that I noticed it's that it's Wilbur that heads towards Tubbo's location instead of having Tubbo go to him like he mostly did with Tommy for example. I suppose it could be because Tubbo having been a president himself is in less of a subordinate position to Wilbur than Tommy who's always been a simple soldier.

"It's like looking in a little mirror, look you're wearing my suit still? How long have you been wearing that?" "Oh I just put it on, just for today" (in a similar fashion to Jack bringing out the L'Manburg uniform to reminisce, Tubbo also brought out clothes he strongly attaches the memory of L'Manburg to)

"Ranboo have you met Tubbo?" "Yeah, yeah. I've- I've met him, I mean we've, uhm... we've been around" (Ranboo still minimizing his relationship with Tubbo to Wilbur. Of course, this is because he doesn't trust him but it's interesting that he isn't even honest about that)

After a bit of back and forth, Wilbur starts apologizing to Tubbo. At first, like most other times he's having a serious discussion he puts himself in an elevated position to tower over Tubbo. It's a neat way to show how his own desire for control affects him, having Wilbur literally elevate himself over others when speaking to them. Literally putting Tubbo down in this situation. Which does make the beginning of his apology very obviously feel insincere.

"I'm sorry for making you president specifically before blowing it up and I'm sorry for when I did this *pointing at the crater* and blew all this up and making this whole. I'm sorry that I uh- that I said that you were the president of a crater"

This is that first part of the apology I mentioned. Just to clarify, I don't actually think that it was entirely insincere. It just feels less impactful due to Wilbur putting himself in a position of superiority over Tubbo, especially because it's something we've seen him do before. It's also to be noted that this time, like others before, he seems to be apologizing less out of actual guilt and more out of a desire to earn forgiveness. Which is not a critique by the way. I just feel like that's a misconception Wilbur has, that apologies serve the purpose of confirming to him that he's doing a good job at changing more than to actually make amends for what he's done. The reason why I think that's the case for the beginning part of this apology as well it's because of how fast he went to ask tubbo if he forgave him, which did put a certain level of pressure on Tubbo in this situation.

"I mean it wasn't- this wasn't all you Wilbur" (thank you tubbo for finally dispelling some of those misunderstandings)

"Yeah so me and mainly Ghostbur honestly, like-" "Ghostbur" (some more of Wilbur not being too fond of Ghostbur)

"Right is he [Ghostbur] this obsidian crap then I take it and these- these fucking dumb lanterns up here" (a bit more)

To correct Wilbur's misconceptions Tubbo starts off asking if the other knew Dream, to which Wilbur responds with how much he appreciates Dream and how he's his hero, which makes Tubbo backtrack and blames most of Doomsday on Techno and Phil. Which, as we know, isn't actually accurate and I have a feeling that this misinformation will be harmful later on once Dream is out of prison (though I don't blame Tubbo for backtracking with how enthusiastic Wilbur is, that was the basic conflict-avoidant approach that Tubbo seems to prefer).

"They rained tnt for days" (if this is actually canon then Doomsday was even more of a tragedy than we previously saw it as. It was days filled with fighting and destruction. Then again, Tubbo has misremembered traumatizing events before)

"Techno and Phil, they hated the government. I mean it was partially my fault as well" "But you didn't blow it up" "No I didn't. I would never have wished or anything like this to happen" "So it was just Techno and Phil?" *long pause* "Y-yeees"

Two things to say here:

1) I appreciate someone in canon recognizing that it's not Tubbo's fault for what happened to L'Manburg and blaming the people who actually blew it up, similarly to how I appreciate Wilbur bringing up with Tommy that it was clearly Dream pulling the strings with his exile with Tubbo. It's nice having it stated plainly for people to hear

2) This is the misconception I mentioned. This is most certainly gonna backfire at some point.

After that Wilbur commends Tubbo quite a lot for rebuilding New L'Manburg (once again being dismissive towards Ghostbur) and is clearly enthusiastic about it, even going as far as to say that that mattered more to him than them building him a grave.

"I just, I feel lost without L'Manburg. All my core beliefs, everything died with it" "You feel lost without a nation..." "I have no purpose anymore" "I guess that's where anarchy fails" (I think this may be the first time someone admits it to someone else, even though that lack of purpose and feeling disoriented is very obviously a shared sentiment amongst the ex-citizens)

After that, it's when Wilbur invites Tubbo to join Paradise, the, supposedly burger van with a small house attached to it that wasn't supposed to become a nation. I have a feeling that the proposition coming right after that exchange may imply that Wilbur changed his mind on it. He does purposefully put himself again in an elevated position when making the proposition.

"Would you like to come join me in Paradise? Literally" "Hmmm, I'm not sure Wilbur. I'm not sure I trust you man, I need to- in order to follow someone I need to trust them" "Wait, wait but you- I thought you forgave me! I thought it was, you know it-" "Wilbur I forgive you because I like to hang on to the hope that people can change, but-"

This is what I mean when I say that Wilbur's apologies come with expectations for the person he's apologizing to. By asking Tubbo first if he forgave him when he originally apologized, he already made it harder for Tubbo to refute that. And now we learn that he expected trust to come along with forgiveness. He's not doing this maliciously of course, but he does seem to have some misconceptions on this.

"I know you had that- that at the festival? With Technoblade? I never spoke to you properly about this. I- I could have saved you" "But you didn't" (other people brought this up, but this is a neat little parallel to the one scene in exile where Ranboo was lamenting about how he should have gone with Tommy and Tommy shut him down pointing out that anyone could have gone but no one actually did)

There is a second round of apologies and Wilbur is still standing higher than Tubbo, BUT he does put himself on his same level after he did a bit more pushing and found that Tubbo was standing his ground. He finally puts himself on the same level as Tubbo and openly acknowledges his boundaries which is the first actual real effort to change that we've seen from Wilbur. Which I'd say is a pretty important step for him.

"Wilbur in order for you to gain my trust back you have to prove it, I can't just give it out anymore. I used to be able to but I just- I just can't" (acknowledgement of how Tubbo's trauma also affected him deeply)

"You know I still have dreams, right? Of the explosion. And- and of the fireworks. And- and all of it. I- I still- I vividly see all of it. Every day. It hurts. It hurts a lot Wilbur"

I want to commend Tubbo here for being able to open up like this, especially considering how much he generally leans into denial and how much he usually suppress. And on top of that this is Tubbo acknowledging that both Wilbur's actions (the explosion) and Techno's actions (the fireworks) have hurt him and STILL hurt him and affect him deeply. It's quite a big admission especially for him.

"Sorry feels like such a weak word. I feel like there's nothing stronger that I can say" (first time that he's standing on the same level of Tubbo while apologizing)

"You're so strong man. Genuinely. You just- just the fact that you proved to me just there that you have this memories, that you have this nightmares and you still find it in your heart to forgive me. That's... you're a fucking champion man. You- you're a hero"

It's interesting that the reason why he claims Tubbo to be strong here is because he forgave him. It's not something that's inherently about Tubbo, like the fact that he still found the strength to go on and rebuild after the events he mentioned, for example, no. What Wilbur brought up is the one thing that Tubbo did for him. Which tells me that he still clearly has a bit of way to go to learn how to make amends and how redemption actually works, but, you know, that's to be expected honestly.

Wilbur moves on by inviting Tubbo to at least come and see Paradise, just to see what they'd made and Tubbo refuses because he wanted to spend more time reminiscing. Wilbur this time respect Tubbo's boundaries with no pushing which is yet another step forward for him honestly. Wilbur also gives Tubbo a "lucky rabbit's foot" that Tommy gave him to cheer him up and assure him that he had no problems with him not going.

With this their conversation comes to a close and Wilbur and Ranboo head over to Paradise (though not before Ranboo has confirmed with Tubbo that he actually does want to be left alone).

"You know I was gonna say 'this is hard' but obviously it's hard. I mean, you know, I've..." (a bit of reflection on his actions for Wilbur, you love to see it!)

"It's gonna get better! It's gonna get better! And it's gonna be worth it when I see them smiling. All of them. Tubbo, Jack, Niki, Tommy, anyone!" (I'm pretty sure that this is a genuine sentiment right here. It really does seem that wilbur's Big Plan right now is just to make amends and change)

"Do you know who the original L'Manburg group were? Do you know who we were?" "I- I think most of them yeah... I think it was like: you, Jack, Niki, Fundy I believe as well" "Fundy was a bit after. Fundy was after we'd gotten independence"

I wonder if that's an actual misrememberance on Wilbur's part (c!Wilbur, not cc!Wilbur, I'm sure cc!Wilbur remembers this) or just him wanting to put some distance between his good memories of L'Manburg and Fundy. Because Jack and Niki weren't there for the independence war either and yet he singled out Fundy who was. And I doubt that he'd forget about his son being one of the people who lost their first life in the final control room. In addition to that Wilbur didn't mention Fundy before among those he wanted to make smile.

I really think that this was intentional and that it was because, well, Wilbur felt deeply betrayed by Fundy. And we as the audience know that Fundy only ever publicly stopped acknowledging him as his father to be able to stay undercover as a spy, but he doesn't. It wouldn't be so weird that he wanted to erase Fundy from his memories of the time when he was supposed to be happy.

"I try and keep this on the low because I don't want uh- I don't want people to use it against me is the main problem. I do wa- I didn't even tell Tommy, I lied to Tommy" "Yeah?" "I'll be honest I'm gonna tell him soon that I lied to him because if it- it kinda eats away at me. But I told- I told tommy that I didn't actually care about L'Manburg and that it was just like a tool for me to use to gain, you know, power and stuff, but it's not- it's not true. L'Manburg is- was really important to me. And it is still to this day"

Once again I'm surprised how little it took Wilbur to trust Ranboo with stuff he hasn't really told anyone else. Makes you really understand how low of an opinion of himself he has that when the first person that calls him "alright" out loud just gets his undying trust. Especially considering that Ranboo doesn't trust him back and hasn't been the most honset with him so far. It's also a nice spelled out admission for anyone who didn't get how much Wilbur cares about L'Manburg from the longing look he gave to the camaravan's replica in the stream where he said he never cared.

"I wanted history to live on, not as a stain caused by me, you know. I basically took a big shit on the history books it feels like" (just another interesting little insight on Wilbur's view of the situation)

"I've heard about what's Tommy's, you know, moved on... and how jack's moved on, and how Niki's moved on and everyone's moved on from L'Manburg at least partially, but Tubbo man, he's still..." (he only thinks the rest of them moved on because he hasn't spoken almost at all with two of them and he never really listened to Tommy. Also, again, Fundy is not mentioned)

"I don't know where I'd be without you [Ranboo] here right now man, I mean T-Tommy's great and all and he's here but I- I feel like, you know, I don't wanna- I don't wanna string him along too much because he's- I- when I look at him. When I look at him when he's helping me out building things with me I see the same eyes that looked at me when... when... There were some- there weren't some fun times in the ravine of Pogtopia. I wasn't a very well man and I can just see Tommy from that day"

This one was one heck of a confession!

I don't know if this is me misremembering, but I'm fairly sure that this is the first time he's admitted to not being great to Tommy specifically. Again, Tommy is the one person he met with so far that he hasn't apologized to. Heck! He told Tommy to his face that him being sorry for his actions didn't mean he wouldn't do them again. It's a pretty damn big admission to acknowledge that that behaviour (which is the same now, if not worse when only related to Tommy) wasn't good. It also shows that he's at least a bit aware of Tommy's emotions which is rarely shown honestly. Though whether he cares because of Tommy or because being around Tommy makes him feel guilty (which is what you'd expect him to feel) and he doesn't like that is to be determined still, mostly just because the phrasing was a bit uncertain at the moment.

"I know what it's like to have no one- or at least feel like no one trusts you. Uhm, and I- I've realized that if- if no one's with you then how can anyone really know when you've redeemed yourself? So that's why I'm here I guess" (Ranboo's answer to why he trusts Wilbur. Which he doesn't, but still)

And the stream ends with Wilbur saying he hopes Tubbo comes around to try out one of the burgers (though he does repeat that he doesn't want Ranboo to pressure him to join) and complimenting Ranboo a bit more.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

My loves, this is the end of AFA & I can't tell you how sad I am for this little story to be over :( There are a couple of people I need to thank so bear with me...Amy (@footballffbarbiex) for making me believe I could write this and that people will want to read it, thank you forever. Em (@emwritesfootball) for being my fabulous proof reader and always being there for me to bounce ideas off of, thank you. And to allllllllllll of you who read, like, reblog and message me - THANK YOU I LOVE YOU!!! Ok enough with my Oscar's speech, please enjoy la parte finale. Love always, Steph xx

Part 12 | la parte finale

warnings; none - except maybe tears because this is the final part :( word count; 2367 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

The end of the international break had approached both squads with rapid speed, before they knew it the 3 weeks was up and it was time for their final friendly match before returning to club duties. It was a rematch of the European final from just a few months earlier, only this time - it was being played in Rome. Preparing her team to meet their opponents had been a bit trickier than last time. Of course, the boys were fired up and raring to go, but the bitterness and anger that drove her to push them harder last time wasn’t there. They were now going up against some of her closest friends as well as her family.

In a strange moment of deja vu, Amelia looked down the tunnel as both teams lined up side by side to walk out onto the pitch together. Just like the last time, her father passed her and gave her a reassuring rub to the back of her neck and made his way down through the centre aisle with his staff. Following him, and just like last time, she made her way down whilst pressing a kiss to both cheeks of her Italian men. Reaching her brother, she pressed a kiss to his cheek also, however unlike the last time he gave her a wink back. The atmosphere was different this time, it was a friendly game and there was no title at stake here - only pride. This time, however, as she passed the Three Lions Number 21, her right hand found his left one for just a moment, before giving it a gentle squeeze and continuing down her own line. He had maintained his focus forward, didn’t even blink at the girl’s actions, and by the time she got to Fede who had been watching the encounter she had made her mind up that he wanted nothing to do with her.

This friendly-match had Amelia in a bundle of nerves, dissimilar to the euro final, Amelia was confident in her ability purely due to the fact that she was well prepared. This time however, whilst she was just as well-prepared as last time, she also knew that a fair few English players had adopted her playing style as their own and knew the kind of tactic required to stop the Italian attack and penetrate the great wall of Rome: Chiellini and Bonucci. This, coupled with the fact that both sides seemed to be playing with a touch more aggression than she expected, led to her being on the edge of her seat for most of the game. A late first half goal from Jorginho had her up out of her seat, cheering for the midfield maestro. However, it was a late second half goal that had her smiling from ear to ear, whilst trying to remember to keep her bum in her chair - she wasn’t supposed to be cheering for the enemy after all. How could she not though? Ben Chilwell had scored the equaliser. Using the play they had spent so many hours perfecting, just the two of them out on the pitch at Cobham. Scoring his goal, celebrating with his team and the away fans, she had clapped with an appropriate level of enthusiasm until she noticed him look her way, pull the centre of his jersey toward his face and give it a kiss. She moved her hand to touch that spot on her own jersey. Fingers running over the embroidery that she had stitched into every one of her official matchday tops, a memento to keep her family close to her heart - the embroidery featured the word ‘WHITE’ followed by the colours of the italian flag. For this match however, she had something extra added. Did Ben know about her newest addition?

After the match.

“Chilwell! Wait Up!” Federico Bernardeschi called down the tunnel whilst jogging to catch up with his opposition player.

“Can I give you some advice? Don’t let her go. I did, and whilst it was the right thing for me to do, it's something I regret deeply. You don’t realise just how much she adds to your life until she's gone. You’ll come to realise that she is the sunshine after any storm, but she is also the storm itself. Any day without her is a little less bright.”

In a moment of vulnerability, Ben decided to open up to the man that he didn’t know more than a bar of soap, who was coincidentally the same man who knew all there was to know about Amelia.

“She really is sunshine personified, isn’t she?” Ben smiled at the thought of the girl, thinking back on all of the laughs that they shared together in Mykonos.

“Normally yes, but these past few weeks that she has been without you she has been a little less bright. You complete her, whether she has realised yet I’m not sure but I am sure that she misses you. I think more than she ever missed me.”

“Ben, there are two kinds of compliments you can give a woman. The first, something she already thinks about herself but needs reconfirmed. The second, the things she doesn’t think anyone else notices about her. The second kind matters more.”

“You like because, and you love despite. Think about that Ben.”

“I don’t know if I love her, yet.”

“I think you do know. Otherwise you wouldn’t have asked the kitman for a little something extra on tonight's jersey.”

“What are you talking about? How do you know?”

“Ah, Benjamin, a good spy never tells his secrets” With that, Federico continued his walk back to the changerooms. “She’s out on the pitch, Ben.” He called without looking back, confident that the player was already making his way out there.

Walking up to the centre circle, where Amelia was currently sitting down on the pitch with her arms behind her and her legs stretched out in front. Taking in the atmosphere of Stadio Olympico in Rome, her favourite stadium in the world. What surprised her the most was just how quickly Stamford Bridge had crept itself up the ranks and into the second spot of her heart.

Without wanting to startle her, Ben started talking to her from a few meters away - not bothered about the few lingering souls out and about. This was his time to make her his, and nothing was going to get in his way.

“You know, a wise person once said to me that you like someone because, but you love them despite” He called out to her.

Turning around, she was surprised to see him. After the cold shoulder she received earlier she hadn’t imagined she would have the opportunity to talk to the blue-eyed beauty any time soon.

“What person was that?” She asked back, softly, not wanting to spook him off.

“Fede”

She tried to hide the shock on her face, what on earth had told her ex-lover she wanted him to talk to her current lover...if you could even call Ben that. Maybe it was more appropriate for him to be referred to as Amelia’s almost-until-she-fucked-it-lover. That was a bit long winded...maybe-lover should suffice. Whilst she was having this internal struggle, all thoughts swirling around her head, Ben had reached the centre circle and sat to the left of the girl, close enough that she could see the calmness behind his eyes.

“He’s right you know, he’s not always right but this time he definitely is. For example, he was wrong to let you go. There would be no chance in hell that I would let you slip away from me as easily as he did.

“I like you because you’re smart, so unbelievably beautiful and just as confident as anyone I've ever met. But I love you, despite the fact that you drive me mad with just how brilliant you are even if you don’t acknowledge yourself. You are destined for greatness, Amelia White. And I just hope that when you do get to where you want to be, that I'm still right there with you.”

Looking at him with tears in her eyes whilst his own were telling her that there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation behind his words. He loved her. And that's all she needed. Standing up, she pulled him up by his hands and pulled him in so close that she could feel the muscles in his back contract as he wrapped her up in a hug of his own, these were the hugs that she wished could be reserved for her. No one else needed to know the power behind these hugs, they could make her fall for him over and over again. One hand across her shoulders, the other palming the back of her head and pushing her into his chest so she could feel his heart beat - after all it beats just for her.

“Ben, why did you kiss your shirt today after you scored?” She asked the taller man as he continued to enjoy the feeling of having her back in his arms, where she belonged for all of this time.

“I wanted to feel close to you, and I thought maybe you were onto something with your superstitions”. Regrettably pulling himself away from her, he pulled off his shirt to reveal the toned skin of his chest, but also the small embroidery on the inside fabric that resembled her own...except this time it read MILS with a small Italian flag. Feeling her heart swell inside her chest, she beamed up at the man who was patiently waiting for her reaction to the gesture of love.

“I think it worked Ben” Pulling her shirt away from her chest enough that she could stretch it and show the inside fabric to him, hers reading WHITE with the Italian flag, but also a small BENJ with the British flag next to it. Her way of keeping him, and her family, close to her heart where she felt them the most.

He could only imagine that Amelia felt when reading his shirt was only a fraction of what he was feeling at that moment, for it was impossible for anyone to love someone the way that he loved her. His mum always told him not to fall for the girl who gives him butterflies, because he would be addicted to the feeling and would constantly be on the chase for it, but to fall for the girl who calmed him down, made him feel secure and like he needed her air to breathe. Butterflies were warning signs, but the sight of Amelia reminded him of seeing the light on in the hall after an away match - he was home. She was his home.

Pulling her back to his chest, except this time he was shirtless. Amelia ran her hands down his back whilst his hands settled at the base of her spine, she rested her chin on his chest and stared up at the man that her heart had grown to love. Ben moved his hands upwards until he tangled them in her wavy hair, moving his lips to cover her own. The kiss said everything they needed to share with each other. I miss you. I love you. Never leave me again.

“Oi! You two! Break it up! There are kids here!” A quick yell broke the two out of their bliss, looking over to see none other than Kyle Walker standing at the end of the tunnel, looking towards them with a mischievous look on his face.

“Kyle, cover your eyes, you’re too pure to be exposed to such adult behaviour!” And just as though God had been listening, from behind him walked out Federico, to cover the eyes of Kyle Walker. Amelia and Ben didn’t realise that the two were even remotely friendly, however they had found a mutual interest - annoying their two friends that had finally admitted their feelings to each other.

“Pipe down you two” Ben joked as the pair of them walked hand in hand towards the jokesters, Ben eventually lifting his left hand to move their entwined hands to Amelia’s left shoulder, her own right arm moving to wrap around his waist. A way he could bring her physically closer to him. Amelia not resisting the gesture, anything to feel his smooth skin against her own.

“Fede, I hope you know that I'm going to be Amelia’s maid of honor at the wedding. That's not going to be a problem for you is it?” Kyle began to seriously discuss the future event with his new Italian partner in crime.

“No Kyle, that's fine - I'm the flower boy though. Jorgi is going to pull me down the aisle in a red cart while I throw rose petals at everyone” Fede joked back, the two of them pretending that the new couple couldn’t hear them as they walked down the tunnel back to the changerooms.

“What are they like?” Ben laughed into the top of Amelia’s hair, still maintaining his grip on the girl he had been without for 3 weeks. With a grin from ear to ear, and an overwhelming feeling of love about her, Amelia stopped Ben in his tracks before the two had to go their separate ways to rejoin their respective teams.

“Just so you’re aware, I love you too. And I am so sorry for everything that I put us through these past weeks. I want you to know that i’m all in, and i’m all yours...if you’ll have me”

“Stop being a silly muppet, of course I'll have you, all of you. Even the parts that drive me insane. There is no way I am letting anyone else have you. You’re all mine, Mils”

“Glad to know the feelings mutual, Chilly”

“Oi, what did I say about that! Only friends call me Chilly...and you are not my friend”

Bursting into laughter as she tried to pull away from him, only to be pulled back and wrapped up into his arms, her head against his chest.

“I love you, Benj”

“I love you right back, Mils”

finito.

BONUS #BAMELIA MOMENT - Champions Again | di nuovo campioni

[gwynrielendgame]

Gwyncien part 3

Idk if y’all will like this one as much. It’s kind of a filler but it took forever to write so I’m posting it anyways. I’ll tag people who have asked below.

Gwyn thought she might puke and it had nothing to do with Lucien's winnowing abilities. She never thought she would feel so nauseas especially after the blood rite. She supposes that the imminent fear of death had her more distracted from her typical anxieties. Now that she could focus on the fact that she was actually leaving Velaris, she felt sick. She grabbed onto Lucien harder and closed her eyes tightly. What felt like hours later, although it was truly only a minute or two, Lucien spoke.

"Welcome to the band of exiles." She opened her eyes to a surprisingly large castle. She was not sure what she expected, perhaps an abandoned cabin, but the building was spectacular and beautiful.

"Jurian and Vassa are excited to meet you." Lucien added as they continued to stand out front. It appeared that he would allow her to stand here for as long as she needed. She knew that if she demanded he take her right back he would. His words finally caught up with her brain that seemed to be running a mile a minute. Why would his closest friends be excited to meet her she thought. It made her anxious for the first time. Perhaps she mistook his friendly countenance for something less than it actually was. She would address it later. She began walking towards the door, mumbling under her breath.

"Let's get this over with."

"That's the spirit!" Lucien inserted much more enthusiasm than necessary into his tone. He grabbed her arm and laced it through his which had her feeling very grateful. Her knees were shaking as she walked and she knew he could tell. Gwyn felt the need to remind herself that he had a mate. She wondered if he would be desperate enough to make a move on her. A large, beautifully decorated foyer greeted them. Two very beautiful people stood in the middle of the white marble floor. Gwyn tightened her hold on Lucien when she saw the new male, stopping them mid-walk. She started her mind-stilling technique as the anxiety clawed at her chest and throat. She would eventually have to face men if she ever wanted to get her revenge. She could not allow a few measly physical reactions hold her back. She took one last deep breathe and then continued walking towards the couple. She spent less time analyzing the female, but from what she saw Gwyn knew she was beautiful. She also had red hair, however, Gwyn's hair was more of a copper/bronze red while Vassa had a deep maroon red. Gwyn kept her eye on Jurian though.

"You are making her nervous, standing there like two parents ready to scold their children." Lucien reprimanded his friends with a roll of his eyes. The female waved his comment off, completely ignoring him. Gwyn did not miss the look they shared, however.

"I am Vassa and this is Jurian." She gestured to the male next to her. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard so much about you." It unnerved Gwyn that the few interactions that she had with Lucien warranted Vassa knowing much about her. She did not think much on it as she continued to watch the beautiful male. He had hair cropped short to his head and a deep skin tone. His looks were not what had her distracted though. It was the weapons. Gwyn found it unnecessary for him to require weapons while meeting with her. Instead of exchanging pleasantries like socially integrated Fae would, she began her questioning.

"Why so many daggers?" She gave him a scathing look while cocking her head to the side. He would not manipulate her into believing anything but the truth and she wanted that to be conveyed in her facial expression. His eyebrows shot up into his hairline as if he were surprised.

"I could ask you the same question." He threw back at her with a smirk. It only infuriated her more. He could not tell she had daggers on her. She was wearing a cloak over her priestess robes with silver majesty strapped to her thigh. There was no possible way he could see the outline through her clothes. She narrowed her eyes and waited for him to respond. The staring contest was only broken when Lucien cleared his throat and Vassa nudged him.

"Fine." Jurian conceded with a smile. "Vassa is woefully bad at handling anything sharp, so I have taken on the role of her protecter while soon-to-be high lord is out and about." Both Vassa and Lucien seemed annoyed by his explanation. The anxiety began to loosen in her chest though. He was not completely trusted, but in this moment he would not attack.

"Gwyn." Is all she managed for an introduction. It seemed good enough for Lucien because he began leading her off to the side of the room towards a grand staircase.

"I will be showing Gwyneth her room and then we can talk." He threw over his shoulder. She held onto his arm all the way up the long staircase and through an even longer hallway. She laughed internally at the size of the mansion considering only three people resided here. A thought occurred to her when they finally came to a stop at a door.

"How many people live here?" She finally let go of Lucien and took a step back.

"Just us three. And now you. Occasionally we have a guest or two, but I will give you ample warning before that time. This will be your bedroom here. Mine is right across the hall if you need anything. There is a lock on the inside, but if you would like I can show you how to set up some furniture to keep the door from opening at all." Lucien gave her a small smile. It made her soften towards him even more.

"Thank you. I appreciate that. I appreciate all that you have done for me. Truly. I cannot say thank you enough." She gave him a short hug to convey her gratefulness. He returned it, hesitantly. His touch was feather light. As though he did not want to touch her and make her uncomfortable. She stepped back towards the door once more and began to walk inside.

"I will come get you before dinner. You have a full wardrobe to pick from in there if you would like to change. If there is anything you require, just ask." Gwyn nodded and then he was gone.

The first thing Gwyn noticed was that the satchel she packed earlier before leaving was sitting on the bed. She had been so nervous about everything else that she had not even realized it was missing. Gwyn continued to survey the room. It was beautiful. The decorations reminded her of the night court. Lucien really did pay attention to the smallest details. Gwyn truly believed Elain was an idiot for not giving Lucien a chance. The bedding was all black and the drapes twinkled with specks of a shiny material. It almost made them look like stars. The bed was unnecessarily large and so was the desk that was off to the side of the room. It had been such a mentally exhausting day that Gwyn decided a nap was needed. She locked her door and stripped off her cloak. She knew the lock would do nothing against winnowing, but as far as she knew only Lucien could do that. She placed her desk chair under the doorknob anyways. She fell onto the bed without even removing her priestess robes. She did remove her dagger and place it under her pillow for protection. A small smile graced her face as she thought of a certain spymaster who also slept with a dagger under his pillow.

Soft footsteps woke Gwyn from her sleep. She had no idea how long she had slept, but knew that dinner must be approaching if it had not already passed. A light knock on the door made her jump.

"Gwyn? Dinner is almost ready if you would like to join us downstairs." Lucien yelled through the door. Gwyn's racing heart began to slow as she realized where she was and who was speaking to her.

"One moment." She decided this dinner was not worth changing her clothes so she grabbed her dagger, putting it back in its sheath, and flattened her hair down with her hands. She did not want to keep Lucien waiting after all. The second she stepped out of the room, a sly smile crossed the male's face.

"What?" Gwyn demanded a tad self-consciously. She flattened her hair once more.

"Enjoyed a nap I see?" He was teasing, but that did nothing to stop her from shoving him.

"Oh shut up and show me the dining room." A real smile graced his face as he put his arm out for her to grab. She was half tempted to shove his arm away for his teasing. Instead, she rolled her eyes and held onto his arm anyways.

"Your wish is my command."

The castle was truly beautiful. Gwyn knew she could spend hours looking at the art pieces- some of them looked familiar. She would guess those were done by Feyre. The marble flooring and intricate ceilings were only part of the beauty. It has clearly been decorated. Perhaps Vassa and Lucien bonded over similar tastes in rugs. The thought made Gwyn giggle internally. The castle was so large that it took them about five minutes before they reached the dining hall. Gwyn took her place next to Lucien across from Jurian and Vassa who were already pleasantly discussing Vassa’s doomed fate. They quickly stopped talking once she sat down and turned the conversation to her.

"So I have been dying to know," Jurian begins "is Rhysand as much of a prick as he pretends to be?" Lucien sent him a glare which only had Jurian shrugging with an innocent expression upon his face. Gwyn sighed.

"Depends on who you are. He is kind to me, but only out of pity from what he witnessed at Sangravah. I have seen him be cruel to those he purposefully does not want to understand. I am not here as your spy though. That is as much from me as you will get about Rhysand." Gwyn truly felt a level of gratefulness to the high lord, however, he often squandered any other positive feelings she had of him by constantly looking at her as if he was seeing that day in Sangravah all over again. It did nothing to help her forget. Jurian gave a contemplative look before turning his attention to his plate. Vassa decided to try her hand at conversation.

"How are the Archeron sisters? I know the death of their father was hard on all of them." Vassa took a sip of wine. Gwyn did not want to discuss this either though. Speaking of Nesta made her miss her sisters.

"They are as well as could be expected." It was generic and had the fiery red head pursing her lips in displeasure. Gwyn did not quite care.

“Gwyn is a beautiful singer.” Lucien finally changed the subject to something that she did not mind engaging in. “We will need you to sing for us sometime.” Gwyn nodded in agreement. The conversation continued on with Lucien boasting about Gwyn, talking about her training as a Valkyrie and winning the blood rite. She started feeling uncomfortable with all the compliments he was sending her way. It reminded her of a conversation she needed to have with him. Right now was as good of a time as any she supposed.

"It was extremely generous of you to offer your help, but I feel I should inform you that I am not interested in anything other than your friendship." Gwyn interrupted Lucien mid-speech to clarify. He looked startled by her statement. Jurian choked on his wine and Vassa cackled like there would be no tomorrow. It made Gwyn feel as though she was on the outside of some joke they all knew.

"Excuse me?" Lucien, for once, looked genuinely surprised. It was as if he could not quite believe she would say that and needed her to repeat it just in case he heard her wrong. Maybe Gwyn misinterpreted some of his advances.

"I know our coupling seems inevitable," Gwyn explained further a bit shyly, not quite sure of herself anymore. "But I am not interested in any one that is not Azriel." Vassa's cackles slowed down to more of a chuckle and Jurian kept sending amused looks to Lucien.

"Gwyn, I am your grandfather." Lucien approached the topic slowly. "I assumed your mother talked about me, but, and I really hope this is the case, you did not know this?" His tone lifted up at the end in questioning.

Oh, Gwyn thought. She was not easily surprised, but this topped the cake. She tried to think back to anytime her mother mentioned her grandparents, but the instances were few and far between. Gwyn realized she did not even know their names. Suddenly, every compliment and favor from Lucien no longer appeared odd. He was complimenting and bragging about his only living granddaughter. This took much longer to process than Gwyn would like to admit. Unexpectedly, she felt an unwarranted amount of anger towards Lucien.

"And you waited until this very moment to tell me? What the hell Lucien? Or should I say grandpa?" Her tone was more hostile than it had been with anyone else. The sarcastic comment at the end had the red-haired male cringing. Jurian and Vassa started laughing once more.

"I know this is not great timing to interrupt, but I, for one, will be referring to you as grandpa from here on out." Jurian inserted. Vassa gave an amused smirk, but said nothing. It earned him a glare from Gwyn and Lucien though.

"I apologize, Gwyneth, for the delayed reveal. I thought you knew that's why I offered to help you, though. I assumed your mother had spoken of Jesminda and I. She was rather young when we had to surrender her, I suppose." Lucien looked so genuine that Gwyn's anger diminished as fast as it had appeared. Gwyn's family history had always been a mystery to her. She might finally get some answers.

"Jesminda is my grandmother?" Gwyn inquired. Her own mother had never given details. This adventure was beginning to answer many questions she had always had.

"Yes." Lucien said. Gwyn was trying to understand his expression and tone. She spent another minute watching him. Their other table mates had gone quiet as well. It did not take a genius to understand the moment. Jesminda had never been mentioned before to her from anyone and she was not here right now. She was dead that much was clear. Lucien cleared his throat and for a brief second Gwyn could see the emotion he was so desperately trying to hide, guilt.

"Why did you give my mother to Sangravah?" Gwyn realized it probably had something to do with Jesminda's death. She truly wanted more details. Lucien sighed heavily, probably understanding that there were many questions in store for him.

"Beron just ordered for Jesminda to be tortured and executed in front of me. I am certain if he had known of your mother, he would have had the same future in store for her. I had kept the child a secret from everyone except a brother, who helped me hide her after Jesminda's death." It did not escape Gwyn's attention that Lucien neither referred to Beron as his high lord nor as his father. Lucien ran a hand through his hair roughly. Her hair was clearly from him, but it was his one russet eye that had her pausing. An eye that suddenly reminded her so much of Catrin.

"Why did he kill her?" She asked softly. Gwyn realized she would never be able to deny Lucien anything. One look from his russet eye and Gwyn would give in simply because of its similarity to her dead twin.

"Because he's a spiteful old man." Vassa spit out. Clearly, she was just as enraged by the situation. It made Gwyn wonder if Vassa and Lucien had ever been together. Lucien rolled his eyes at the fiery female. He seemed to roll his eyes constantly while he was here.

"Because he could," Lucien added. "Your mother, who was about six at the time, was extremely unsafe even under my brother and I's protection. Beron would put your mate to shame with all the torture tactics he uses. I dropped her off on the doorstep of that church in the middle of the night. I always planned to go back and visit, but I was nervous and I knew she was safe there. I felt it was selfish to visit her since it only put her in more danger." Gwyn felt sad for everyone involved. Sad for Lucien who watched his love be tortured and executed in front of him only for him to have to turn around and surrender his daughter to a church. Sad for Jesminda who died that day. Sad for her mother who must have lived every day wondering where her parents went and why they abandoned her. Sad for Catrin who never got to meet her grandfather.

"I had a sister." Gwyn felt the need to mention. She was unaware of how much Lucien knew, but it suddenly felt important to her that he knew of Catrin.

"I know." He responded with a sad smile. "This family is well versed in tragedy." Gwyn had so many more questions. She had time to ask though. Her questions were making Lucien relive memories that were better left untouched. Perhaps he had endured enough for one night. She looked down at her full plate. She had been so distracted that she had not touched a thing. She began to devour her food as the rest of the table engaged in a debate about seasonings and which was the best.

"Have you and Vassa..." Gwyn trailed off, leaving the innuendo open when Lucien walked her back to her room after dinner.

"She wishes." He chuckled.

"Would you be with Elain if you could?"

"I would not jump into a mating ceremony but I would like the chance to get to know her. She has not given me the opportunity." He answered practically with his arms folded behind his back. Gwyn felt the need to assure him that knowing Elain would not make any of this easier.

"Trust me, it's better this way." She did not want to leave the conversation on such a sore point. As they approached her door, Gwyn jokingly shoved him. "So this would make Elain my step-grandmother?" Lucien was quiet before speaking. It was not the reaction she hoped for.

"Elain does not know. No one knows. And no one can know, even Azriel. At least until Beron is dead. Make no mistakes if Beron were to discover you, he would torture you simply to spite my mother." His lips pursued together in displeasure.

"Azriel is very good with secrets." She felt the need to remind Lucien. He is a Shadowsinger after all.

"Not with his high lord. If Rhysand knew, he would tell Beron if he had too. If Nyx or Feyre's life were on the line, he would do anything to save them. That includes selling you out. This is very important, Gwyneth. You cannot tell anyone- promise me." His stare was so intense that she could not look away. He grabbed her hands in a tight grip to make sure she understood how serious he was. Gwyneth had never purposely kept a secret from Azriel before. Hopefully, Beron would die sooner rather than later.

"I promise."

+++

Two weeks later

"What do you mean she’s gone?" Azriel was shocked to discover that Gwyn had left two weeks ago. He thought she had been avoiding training because of the kiss they shared- not because she was gone. He had been eating dinner with Nesta and Cassian when he finally had the courage to mention the priestess and where she had gone. Now he was mad that he had not asked sooner.

“She left with Lucien on some adventure. I am not really sure. Her note was unclear.” Nesta responded solemnly. The House dropped a piece of chocolate cake in front of her which made a small smile curve at the brash female’s lips. Azriel’s stomach dropped at the mention of Lucien. Gwyn did not know him well enough to go on an adventure with him. Gwyn would not leave her sisters here and she would definitely not choose Lucien to be the first person she left Velaris with. He was certain of that. He also knew Lucien to be a spiteful person. Perhaps he was tired of watching Azriel and Elain parade their relationship around him, making a fool of the one-eyed male. He could have taken Gwyn as retribution.

“He must have kidnapped her. Gwyn would never willingly leave the House of Wind with anyone- let alone Lucien.” Azriel knew this had to be true. Gwyn would never just up and leave. Guilt started gnawing at his chest as he realize he could have prevented her from being taken. If only his shadows would work properly around her, he could have prevented Lucien’s nefarious plans from being completed. His siphons started glowing the longer he though about it. He had to clench his hands around his silverware to keep from winnowing straight to the Band of Exiles and demanding his mate be given back. Nesta gave Azriel an odd look before speaking.

“She left a note that said she was willingly leaving with him and as much as he annoys the shit out of me, I don’t think he would hurt Gwyn.” A frown marred her face now, though. As if she had not considered that her sister could be in trouble. It only annoyed Az further.

“He could have made her write the note.” He reminded in a quiet, harsh voice. Gwyn and Lucien were not friends. She would have no reason to leave with him. Cassian was cautiously glancing between his mate and Azriel. He did not know what to say that would not piss off Az, so he was choosing to let Nesta handle the situation instead.

“She is not in danger.” Nesta declared after peeking at her wrist. There was no possible way for her to know whether Gwyn was safe or not. Even Azriel could not find out given how stubborn his shadows were being. He could always take a trip to the Band of Exiles, but he had to assume Lucien would not be stupid enough to take Gwyn there.

“You do not know that.” His wings flexed in anger. The siphons atop his hands were glowing dangerously bright now. He needed to get his emotions under control.

“Yes I do.” Nesta insisted with a roll of her eyes that annoyed Azriel to no ends. “My bracelet is not glowing. They glow when any of us is in trouble. It’s how I found her in the blood rite. It has not glowed since then either.”

“Hers could have fell off.” Gwyn would not have left after the kiss they shared. It was too important of a moment between them for her to have left immediately after.

“Gwyn and Lucien are friends, Az. You know if you want someone to blame for her leaving, maybe you should look inward.” It was a sharp jab that hurt more than the Shadowsinger would ever admit.

Suddenly though, he could see the hurt on Nesta’s face. It was there for only a second, but he saw it. Nesta was just as hurt by Gwyn’s departure as he was. He finally unclenched his hands from around his silverware- his fight giving out. Nesta was right. Lucien would never kidnap Gwyn especially if he thought it might upset Elain. Azriel chose this time to leave, however. He would not stoop to Nesta’s level and trade jab after jab. He headed to the training arena. It was hours later when slight footsteps could be heard making their way over to him. He was sitting at the edge, his exhaustion forcing him to take a break. Nesta took a seat next to him, resting her head against his shoulder.

"I miss her too, Shadowsinger." He said nothing in return because there was nothing else he could say. "You are worse than I was with the mating bond." Nesta tried again with a joke this time to try and get Azriel talking. She knew he was not normally one to discuss his feelings though. He gave her a withering look at that comment. It was an ongoing joke within the inner circle that Nesta handled the mate situation particularly horrible.

“Shut up.” Was all he responded with and he only said it halfheartedly.

"I am just saying, if you ask me for advice I could save you some time and heartache." They both continued to look out at the Velaris skyline.

"And what precious advice would you bestow upon me?" The comment was dripping in sarcasm, but he decided to humor her.

"Anyone other than your mate will be a disappointment, especially to you. Just accept it and her and everything else will become background noise." She looked up at him for a second before setting her head back down. He was not one to seek out comfort through touch, but sitting here with Nesta made him feel a bit better. Maybe it was because they could both ruminate in their sadness at Gwyn’s departure.

"Ah so wise. I had not considered that." Again the sarcasm was heavy.

"Well if you have thought about it and have not done it then I would consider you an idiot. You do not strike me as an idiot, Az." She was frustrated now- throwing her arms up and crossing them over her chest. He chuckled lightly.

"I think I might be." He admitted. Everything was so confusing with Mor and Elain that he lost focus of what was truly important.

"Gwyn is the most compassionate and understanding person I know. If she can love me, she can love you too. Just be honest with her." Her voice was soft now in a way that it never was. She always seemed to push him even when it seemed the rest of his family refused. It was the thing he liked most about Nesta- she was never scared of him or his feelings.

"Thanks Nes." He settled his head on top of hers and they stayed like that for hours- reminiscing in all things Gwyn.

[kannra21]

Sniperhaul fanfic

ˡᵐᵃᵒ ᶦ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᶦᵉᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦ'ᵐ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᶦˢ

Overhoe finally broke out of Tartarus after a very long time. However, he couldn't have done it without the help of a certain villain mistress. 😏 Who's she and why did she choose to help this terrible (x2) man? Find out bellow.

characters: overhaul (chisaki kai) x sniper lady

word count: 3k

warnings: angst, past memories, handless overhaul, hurt, comfort, gangs, yakuza, just girl taking care of her mans

notes: I'd like to thank the person responsible for proofreading this work bc I'm supposed to keep their identity a secret. 😎 Thank you once again! And of course, the manga and characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi. @meefal you were excited to see the final product so here you go, hope you like it. 🖤

✂-------------------------------------------------------

Overhaul couldn't remember how long he'd been there, he'd lost count weeks ago. The only thing he knew was that he was in "Tartarus", a prison located 5km off the coast of the Mainland. It may function like a conventional prison, but in reality, those who're deemed a severe threat toward the safety of the nation were locked up and monitored closely, regardless of whether their sentence has been decided on yet. The facility was divided into 6 levels, where the potential threat level of criminals was deemed "higher" the further underground you go. It's a prison where, once you enter, there's no chance of leaving.

He sat there in his cell, B10 being the lowest level in solitary confinement. It was too cold for his head to function and too dark for his eyes to see, with the small window above the prison doors being his only source of light. There was also an opening where prisoners received their meals, but considering that he lost his hands, the guards could easily enter without worrying too much for their well-being. They'd leave whatever they offered that day and give him a disgusted look before locking the doors after themselves. He couldn't see his reflection nor touch his face, he probably looked like crap by now. His skin was itching and he felt disoriented from all the germs occupying this space, it's been a while since he's gone out for some fresh air. 

He was practically Quirkless and yet they locked him out in the worst, most dreadful place the isolation block had to offer. He couldn't even feed himself properly, he couldn't do anything by himself whatsoever. But there was only one thing left to him; he spent days and days thinking about pops, Chrono, yakuza and everything he could have if it weren't for those stupid heroes-- no, if it weren't for his plan that so grandiosely failed. It made him feel miserable, desperate even, and with grief soon followed acceptance. It was all his fault, and he needed to live with this burden for the rest of his life. Because of him, pops is still handicapped to the bed somewhere, wherever the heroes might have taken him. 

He stood up and started beating the cell with his leg, curing his frustrations. He didn't know why he was doing it, it was irrational and he's hurting himself unnecessarily, but for some reason it made him feel lighter. At least he could transfer some of his inner pain to the outside world. Other criminals laughed at his patheticness, especially since they knew why the guards were allowed to enter his cell. They shouted that it was impossible to escape, but he wasn't trying to. He knew that it was useless a long time ago. 

Midnight came and all the prisoners mostly fell asleep. Overhaul, however, couldn't sleep a wink. Because of the dark room he spent most of his days in, he lost his sense of time so he was pacing around, deep in thought. He couldn't dream of anything nice anyways. 

"Can't fall asleep either?" a feminine voice could be heard from the other side. Wait. They allowed women here? What could she have possibly done to deserve such punishment? 

He leaned his back on the doors and slid down to the floor, trying to find the right words.

"Yes." he sighed, enthusiasm lacking in his voice "But it's not like I need you to talk about my problems." 

"Hm, whatever. Go beat your head against the bars. Fall unconscious, loser."

The man snorted, which might as well be his first time he ever did that. 

"Well, this certainly sounds effective. It's not like I have anything to lose anyways." 

"Hey." the tone of her voice was earnest, and it aroused further questions in his jumbled up head. 

"What?"

"We're going to get out of here." 

Is she being serious now? "Really? Because as far as I know, we're locked out here for good. We don't even know the severity of our sentences. They can do whatever they want with us."

"Not quite. You know that they're being supervised by 'The Hearts and Mind' party offshoots. They can’t do a thing to us as long as they have their heads to the pikes." 

This might be true, but he didn't believe in anything the government's been telling them lately. It's only a matter of time before they switch their plans and play by their own rules, because stabbing people in the back was the only thing they've ever been good at. 

"How did you end up here?" 

Oh the long-awaited question. She wondered when he'd ask. 

"It's not like I need you to talk about my problems."

He smiled, he liked this vicious side of hers. But he also realized that she could be nice as well because if that wasn't the case, she wouldn't spread promises of the escape. At least that's what he thought. 

"Sorry about that." 

"It's okay. We've all been here for a very long time, now weren't we? We lose our cool and act like total assholes."

"Direct and straight to the point I see." his deadpan voice could be heard from the other side of the bars. 

"'Been raised this way, for the better or worse." it didn't sound like she was bragging, yet it felt like she was just talking about herself, honest and confident, to cover up what she felt was wrong. The incoming topic which she'd rather avoid. 

The villainess didn't want to open up about her past, so she just answered his question. 

"I killed people beyond counting, following AFO's orders. He always wished to become the world's greatest demon lord and thus promised us enormous change in the hero society. So in order to achieve that, he needed his underlings. And that's how I ended up here."

"You were loyal till the end."

"You know what they say; there can be no progress nor achievement without certain sacrifice."

Wise beyond her years and just as sad. He wondered how her face looked like, how the world's been treating her. 

"I had my own sacrifices as well."

"Do you regret them?"

...

"I do." 

Now it was her turn to snort "Really? And I thought that people situated this low couldn't have regrets. You remember what they said about us. 'Beasts in human clothing', 'Simply dreadful beings'." 

He felt insulted, maybe the things she said were true but it's not like he was anything similar to these pigs he shared the same air with, unfortunately.

"I regret hurting the person important to me. The old man who once took me in when I was very young. He was the infamous boss of Shie Hassaikai." 

Something clicked in her, it's such a small world they're living in, "Yakuza? I know you guys. We used to trade with you back in the days."

"Todou Gang?" 

"You said it."

"But... you were a force to be reckoned with. One day you just collapsed and not a single trace could be found. According to certain sources, there was no way anyone could determine the exact cause of your downfall. So what happened?" 

"I killed them all." 

... 

"AFO told me to kill them to prove my loyalty to him and, of course, to make sure that there was no one I could turn to other than himself." 

For some questionable reasons, and he didn't dare to admit that it was empathy he felt towards a random stranger and a former gang member he shared some history with, Overhaul wanted to fill the silence that lingered between them. Perhaps, because he felt guilty for making her reveal more than what she initially intended. 

"I used pops' niece, a 6-year-old girl who had an extraordinary Quirk; it allowed her to rewind a person's body back to a certain state. That means she could put a body back to before it was injured or before the person even developed a Quirk. With that, I wanted to create a Quirk-erasing drug to get rid of the Quirk society altogether and to make sure that yakuza could rise once again. I cut her skin every day to take blood samples and to test her regenerative abilities. However, pops didn't approve of it, so I handicapped him to the bed and planned on waking him up the moment I realized my plan, to make him proud of the achievement. Unfortunately, it didn't play out as I wanted and I never reached him."

The silence followed and the woman wore a disheartening smile on her face. It's not the answer she expected, she didn't ask for another sad story from another messed up person she's met in her life. But the intentions were pure and for her, it was good enough. 

"We both fought for something only to lose it all, huh?" she laughed, but it was prominent in her tone that it was bittersweet. 

"At least you're brought here in one piece." 

"At least you can still revive your parent."

Were they comforting each other? Were they jealous of each other? Were they wallowing in self-pity? They couldn't tell. The only thing they certainly could was the embarrassment they felt from the moment they realized that some of the prisoners were eavesdropping and making fun of their vulnerabilities. See? That's what they hated the most about opening up about themselves; they were worried about their feelings being perceived as a joke. The only way to protect themselves was to rise up the walls and never let anyone get closer, except they didn't regret exchanging a word or two, as long as it was the two of them. 

The next day, 8:34PM Mainland-side entrance, the guardians of 'The Bronze Gate' announced a code red security lockdown. Panic and shouting could be heard from across the hall and the security alarm announced the potential danger. 

"Close any and all passageways on each floor. All workers are to enforce strict measures to maintain order."

"The surveillance system is down! It seems like we've been hit by some sort of EMP attack!"

Static waves were spreading around the metal frames and the prison doors of the isolation block unlocked. Overhaul could hear the commotion outside and the villains leaving their cells in a hurry, but as much as he tried, he couldn't push the heavy doors open.

"3 seconds until we're back online- wait... What the... With the system down we can't monitor the inside!"

"Nice, 3 seconds be damned." he beat the door with his legs, pushed the surface with his shoulders, leaned all of his weight on the godforsaken thing just so it could finally open. Nothing. It seems like he lost a couple of pounds during his stay here. He couldn't believe his eyes, this couldn't be happening to him. After all this time of patient waiting and hoping to meet pops once again, it turns out he'd be the only one still trapped and all because he didn't have any hands. He panicked, he really couldn't decide on what to do next. But then he remembered-

"Go beat your head against the bars, loser."

That's it! This might be his only chance to escape! He didn't have much time left though, he could hear the shooting nearby so he definitely needed to hurry.

"The system won't come back on!! The ones in solitary confinement are breaking out!! Inside!"

"Control unit's on site!! Execute lockdown in the isolation block!"

"Follow procedure! If even one of them steps a foot outside their cell-"

"Fire!! Open fire!!"

Muscular threw whatever he could find in this messed up place back at them, excitement prominent in his big smile "You ain't gonna kill me with those puny toys! So how about you show me the exit already?!" 

Other villains were joining him, still overwhelmed by the sudden freedom they've been given "Dammit... After all that time..."

"Meat..." Moonfish mumbled as he cut his opponents with his blade-like teeth. 

The villain lady joined them in the run, still carefully examining her surroundings in case they were tricked into something, "The system isn't responding to my Quirk. 'Guess Tartarus really is falling." 

As she was running down the corridor, she could hear beating noises coming from one of the doors. It sounded dull so the person must have been using their head. 

"Eh, don't tell me the idiot actually listened to my advice. He must be desperate." 

She came to the doors and turned the circular lock in a hurry. She really didn't want to stay in this place any longer, but she couldn't leave him behind either. It's not like she could use him for anything since he was basically handless and Quirkless so why was she doing it? She didn't have an answer. Maybe it was their talk from the other day, maybe because they were both gang members with a history, maybe because of her regrets and her wish to do something right for once. Or maybe because she was just this kind. Nah, this couldn't be it, she never did anything in her life that didn't require a certain purpose. She cast her heart aside a long time ago and did what was necessary for the accomplishment of the mission. It would be weird if she suddenly started using her heart again, now wouldn't it? She was AFO's personal assassin, there was simply no way. 

He came out of the room with eyes wide in puzzlement. He was finally free and ready to find pops so he could possibly revive him and try to fix things as much as he could.

They looked at each other for the first time. They never said it aloud, godforbid, but they liked the other's eyes. And perhaps the eyes were a window to a person's soul, their broken souls, tormented by the life's temptations. They were still so young, probably in their twenties, and yet they looked older at the same time. Maybe because of the seriousness in their faces, their stronger stance, the way they defied their fate. They were destined to fall apart, no one would argue with it, but circumstances drove them to take action and rise from the bottomless chasm. And now they had each other. 

"We need to get out of here," she stated and pulled him by the sleeve that hung loosely from his shoulder. They escaped Tartarus and raided a small shop near the coast to change clothes and to mingle into the public unnoticed. She quickly picked out a dress and threw herself at work while Overhaul was still standing by the shop display, looking out for the potential intruders.

He couldn't erase the thought of this being some sort of a really weird first date; the girl coming out of the stall and the guy examining her looks. He shook his head, he never had this kind of thoughts in his entire life. He needed to pull himself together. 

The bob-hair came out and adjusted the ammo on her utility belt. He looked at her from the corner and she was stunning; intimidating with a tad bit of femininity in design. He stood there and watched how good it fit her curvy form. The thoughts wandering in his head sounded so wrong, terribly wrong. He needed to bring himself to stop. 

"Oh right, I almost forgot." she took a shirt off the shelf and came to him, showing him the garment in her hands "You need a little help, right?" 

"Sure.'' his voice was small and he stood still while she undid his buttons. Maybe from the outside he looked completely calm, but from the inside he was a complete mess. He looked at her face and wondered if she knew, the kind of effect she's having on him. She raised her head and he looked to the side, there's no way he could look her in the eyes at this point. He hoped she didn't notice. 

"You like this one, don't you?" she asked, filling the awkward silence. 

"Looks don't matter, the most important thing is to change and avoid getting caught." She looked annoyed. Great. He wanted to shove his head though the wall. Wait… Why was he thinking that? 

"I choose the clothes I like. It makes me feel better in my skin."

"You look good in it."

She looked at him surprised and he quickly corrected himself "the dress looks good."

"Sure." she trailed off and put the new shirt over his shoulders. She could feel his muscles tensing. This was probably because of the cool air, she assured herself. 

"Why did you break me out of Tartarus? It's not like I could be of any use to you." 

She buttoned up his shirt and fixed the wrinkled parts on the garment, hand accidentally brushing over the left side of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Well... that was a surprise.

"I thought that maybe you could be of some use to the demon lord. Not Quirk-wise, but you may offer a valuable set of information. Something that the demon lord would appreciate greatly." she could feel it slowing down and her heart dropped just as much.

"But also because I... liked you."

He looked at her incredulously and she smiled. She pinched him to bring him out of the trance and he complained. "Don't be awkward, say something."

"I like you too... I, this is my first time I ever said this to anyone. It's weird."

She slapped him gently on the shoulder and he reached to take it but, yea, no hands.

"What the hell?"

"You're the one who's weird. But I guess that I like you this way." she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek "Ew, you should definitely shave though. No doubt about it."

The former yakuza boss swore; he'll never understand women. But for some reason he couldn't deny that he was particularly drawn to this one. He wondered if pops would approve of her.

[bluefirewrites]

T.Rex, Velveeta, and Other Fun Names

A one shot I made, thanks to @lydias--stiles and @blush-and-books. 

We were talking about what Luke’s middle name could be and it sparked an idea for this quick little one shot (which is neither quick or little actually.)

Could also be read on AO3. 

ENJOY!

____________

Lucas T. Patterson

The madness of this week all started when Julie thumbed through Luke’s journal and found her songwriting partner’s messy scrawl inscribed in the behind the front cover.

Yeah, it was his name, Julie would have griped about how illegible it was and moved on to whatever song she and Luke had been workshopping the day before and thought nothing of it-

If it weren’t for the fact that there was a flurry of deep inset scratches of pen scribbling out the space where his middle name was supposed to be, leaving only the ‘T’ unscathed…

“So I was thinking, maybe we change the key. I thought I was feeling A Major,” Luke rattled off, playing the aforementioned series of chords on his electric, “But now, I think we could really intensify it by flipping to a minor key-”

“What’s the 'T' stand for?”

The ghost looked up, confused, “Huh?”

Julie held up the inner cover of the journal, pointing to his name, “Lucas T. Patterson. The ‘T’- what does it stand for?”

It was a simple question, but all color drained from his face.

“O-Oh. Oh that?” Luke stammered through, struggling to rid himself of his guitar, the skull and rose strap kept swatting his face in his hurry.

She nodded.

He was across the room in seconds, back facing her, pretending to fiddle with the amp settings, even going as far as inspecting Alex’s drums. Thank goodness the drummer wasn’t there right now or else he would be getting a thorough lecture. ("Tell him to stop touching my drums!" extended to his bandmates as well).

“It, uh, stands for my middle name,” he said, still not looking at her.

“I get that. So what is it?”

“It’s nothing,”

Julie rose from the piano bench, traversing the studio until she was right behind him. She forced him to pivot and face her, “No, it’s clearly something.”

Luke gave a dismissive wave and a weak nonchalant laugh, “It’s not a big deal,”

“It clearly is if you won’t tell me,”

Then his head cocked to the side. He cupped his ear, “Uh, what’s that? I think I heard Carlos!”

“What?” She couldn’t hear anything.

“Oh, you need help, Carlos? On my way!”

“He can’t even-”

In a flash of light and warp of reality, Julie was alone in the studio.

“- hear you...”

Oh boy.

Now what was that about?

________________

Ever since then, Julie’s curiosity only grew. Why was Luke so evasive when it came to his middle name? What could possibly be the reason?

With all the secrecy and going great lengths to omit it from his journal, she was betting on it being insanely embarrassing.

Which made Julie want to find out even more.

Luke didn’t get embarrassed so easily, not much to weaponize against him whenever they all made playful jabs at each other from time to time, like the friends they were. Really it was stuff like ‘Beware, Luke this shirt has sleeves’ which basically translated to ‘Haha, you’re attractive’.

Which did not pack quite the punch.

She was determined to decode Luke’s middle name, if not to quench her curiosity then to humble the guy.

He couldn’t be attractive and talented. Something’s gotta give.

(And no, she didn’t often think about how attractive and talented he was… Nope. Not at all).

“Tristan?” she threw out while they were backstage at their next gig.

Luke tuned his guitar, “Nope”

“Thomas?”

“Nuh-uh”

“Terrence?”

He finally looked up, smirking, “You will never find out.”

The tech burst in, phasing through the ghostly forms of the boys, to lead her out onto the stage.

She inwardly cursed. Saved by the bell.

“Break a leg, boss,” Luke wiggled his fingers at her before she was practically pushed past the curtain.

Even when she sat down to play the piano, Julie could not get the image of Luke’s smug face out of her mind. Oh, he probably thought her attempts were just so cute.

Yeah, cute for now.

But she wasn’t done yet.

____________________

“Alright, guys. Help me solve the mystery. What’s Luke’s middle name?”

It was one of those rare occasions where Luke was out of the house, leaving her, Alex, and Reggie alone.

The boys had been present for her previous tries to weasel Luke’s middle name out of him, and they were amused for the most part- Well, never as amused as Luke ‘Thinks He’s All That’ Patterson (not a serious contender in her guessing, by the way).

With their reactions, and however many years of brotherhood shared among the three of them, Alex and Reggie just had to know.

They were all chilling in the kitchen, Reggie perched on top of the counter and Alex lounging at the table. Julie poured herself a juice, waiting on the answer.

The bassist straightened up, “Oh. It’s-” Then he stopped, face scrunched up in a frown of concentration.

Julie directed her gaze at Alex, who was ready to jump in.

“No, wait it’s…” He faltered.

The two boys’s heads snapped to stare at each other as they pieced it together.

“Dude, I don’t think-”

“No. He had to have. I’m just blanking,”

“Guys?”

“Oh my god,” Alex uttered, pushing his golden locks back into his cap, “It took us this long to notice?!”

They were now on their feet, sandwiching Julie.

“We... don’t...know,” Reggie winced, admitting it out loud.

“How could you not know?”

“I don’t think he ever told us!” was the bassist’s defense, “He’s Fort Luke when he wants to be!”

He made the gesture of locking his lips and throwing away the key to which Alex nodded.

“Now I wanna know!”

“Me too!”

Now this was a development. If Luke’s boys had no clue, then it must be really juicy.

Taking a sip from her cup, Julie was all ready to recruit two new members for the noble cause…

_________________

Julie, Alex, and Reggie huddled in a circle at the studio, all bearing notebooks and furiously whispering at each other and scribbling away when Luke decided to make an appearance.

They dispersed, making their collusion all the more suspicious.

“Luke,” They all greeted, with the same level of enthusiasm… at the same time.  

The guitarist eyed them skeptically. Then he took in the notebooks, “You’re having a band meeting. Without me?” he asked, hurt flashed in his hazel eyes.

“No, silly. We’re having a band meeting about you,”

“Reggie!” Alex and Julie hissed.

That only added to Luke’s hurt and confusion.  

Sending him a reassuring smile, she guided him to an empty chair, placed right in the middle, just beyond the coffee table, “Sit down. Please.”

“Okay?” Slow steps and weird stares later, his butt plopped onto the seat, “Can someone tell me what’s all this abo-?”

“Lucas Theodore Patterson?” Alex leapt in front of Luke, reading his guess off his notebook.

Luke’s shoulders slumped, seeing where this was all going.

“Guys, really? You too-?”

“Is it or is it not Theodore?” Julie backed Alex up.

“God no,”

Reggie was up next, “Lucas Timothy Patterson?”

The nose scrunch answered for them.

“Lucas Tyrone Patterson?” as was Julie’s turn.

“No flow,”

And so they were stuck in a circle for the next 20 minutes, everyone taking turns guessing Luke’s middle name, their lists growing more desperate and random as they continued, even going as far as borderline yelling the names at him- that was how frustrated they were.

“Lucas Troy Patterson,”

“No”

“Lucas Trixie Patterson?!”

“That’s not even- that’s not even a guys name-”

“It’s Tyrannosaurus Rex. I’m telling you. It has to be!” Reggie slammed his notebook down, poking Luke hard in the chest with his index finger,  “Admit it! LUCAS. T. REX PATTERSON!”

“Boy, I wish,”

Their guessing game, once the last of the names have been recited, left all of them breathless (even though two of them were ghosts!).

On any other occasion, Luke would have been sympathetic, especially seeing how broken up and defeated they all looked collapsed onto the couch, glaring at him like he was the enemy.

But their fruitless attempts only made him all the more victorious.

“Nice try guys,” he patted each of them on the shoulder before heading out.

Best to give them a break.

Ya know, to deal with the defeat.

____________________

She was nothing if not persistent.

But Julie knew she might have been taking things too far when she had made the trip to Emily’s.

Look, she thought she could just pay the woman a visit, to check up on her, catch up-

Maybe ask leading questions in order to trick her into telling her her son’s middle name?

Yeah, the plan was flawed from the start because how could she so subtly direct the conversation to her dead son’s middle name.

Maybe get her to tell a story about Luke getting in big enough trouble that would have warranted the whole ‘yelling-out-your-full-name’ treatment? Which was a total stretch.

But she didn’t expect it to be the complete and utter disaster that it was.

If Alex and Reggie hadn’t gotten impatient and started snooping around Luke’s old room and digging through his things to find some sort of sign for his name, and if Luke hadn’t decided to intervene, creating all kinds of ruckus in other rooms for his mom to stop and check-

Then maybe they wouldn’t all be sitting on the Molina living room couch hours, getting read the riot act by Luke Patterson of all people.

“I had to tip over my aunt’s vase!!”

“Well, if it's any consolation, your mom always hated that vase?” Reggie chuckled before being promptly silenced by one look from Luke.

Alex spluttered, “But, like, you didn’t have to break it??”

“I did what I had to do,”

“Your mom was so freaked out!”

“Well, that’s on you guys,”

Julie just about had enough with all these games, she pushed herself up from the couch, squaring up against Luke’s unwavering gaze, “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Me?” he yelled, taken aback, “ You went to my house!”

“We just wanted to know!”

“Oh my god!” His hands gripped at his hair, “Why do you wanna know my middle name so badly?”

“I like knowing stuff about you, okay!”

Luke stepped back. Eyes wide.

That-

That wasn’t meant to come out.

Especially in the booming, shrill tone she used.

“Oh…”

Luke was playing with the sleeves of his oversized flannel, the air between them thick and brimming with awkwardness. It didn’t help that Alex and Reggie took this as the opportunity to flee.

Now it was just the two of them in the living room.

Breathing deeply to collect herself because it finally hit her- they were in a screaming match all because of a middle name . Like, Luke wasn’t the only one being ridiculous. It was her too. This whole quest to figure out what the T in his name stood for was so pointless.

They were fighting and Julie didn’t like it.

“And,” she cleared her throat, dislodging the unpleasantness, “there’s something clearly bothering you about it. Just… maybe thought I could help?”

Julie had been kidding herself. Messing with Luke might have been her initial goal, but what bugged her most about not knowing his middle name was the fact that even after all the time they spent together, there were things that Luke still wouldn’t tell her.

He was entitled to keep his secrets, yes, and she still felt bad for spying on him on his birthday. But, they were bandmates, writing partners, friends . She had confided in him a lot and he with her, and they just…

They always had this closeness. A closeness that she appreciated and didn’t take for granted.

And she had acted so recklessly because of it.

Luke nodded, taking it in. He didn’t look mad, but he understood. Julie could tell he was able to get more from her than the words she spouted at him.

“It’s, just,” his voice lowered into a self-conscious whisper, “It’s just something I don’t like a lot of people knowing...”

“I’m sorry. I pushed,”

“It’s okay,” the left corner of his mouth twitched, “You wouldn’t be Julie, if you didn’t” he playfully punched her shoulder.

She gaped at him in mock offense, “Hey!”

“Just saying. Tt’s not the first time you showed up on my doorstep, digging up my past,” she instinctively grimaced but Luke reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, “But I know it’s coming from a good place. Thanks.”

He really shouldn’t be so forgiving, Julie thought. But she was just happy that they could just leave this mess behind them.  

“I’ll get the guys to drop it,” she offered.

That made Luke laugh, “Good luck with that. Reggie’s wearing Alex down. Now he’s seriously considering my middle name to be ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’,”

“If it was that embarrassing, I’d see why you’d keep it a secret,”

It seemed like Luke wanted to say something but shook his head and thought better of it. Instead he tugged her by the hand to the door, “Come on. You never did give me your opinion on the key change…”

_______________

It was months later when it finally came out. 

They were in her room. She was doing homework and he was getting a jump start on their newest song, working side by side on the floor.

Her laptop was open, some randomly chosen Spotify playlist streaming in the background. All was well when the familiar chords of ‘Get Lost’ started playing, causing Luke to visibly tense up.

“Trevor,”

“Right. Sorry, I’ll turn it off-”

“No. That’s…” He sighed and moved into a kneeling position.

Pushing his already opened journal to Julie, Luke flipped it to the cover, where his name was written.

He pointed to the scribbles over his middle name.

Where only the T was exposed…

Trevor.

“Lucas...Trevor...Patterson?”  

“My full name. Ba-da?” his jazz hands fell flat, betrayed by the quiver in his voice.

“Oh,”

“I, uh, never liked how it sounded. And you know how I feel… about things that just don’t flow right”

Julie did. For sure. Scrapped lyrics and melodies were often what happened. Never to be brought up again.

He continued, “My mom would insist on writing out my full name on my notebooks for school- Luke Patterson is already so generic,” and the first genuine chuckle of the night huffed out, “Never used them for class of course. Just to write songs.”

“Tre-Bobby,” she corrected herself “He would have needed proof that he wrote everything...”

“My old notebook. That had ‘Get Lost’ and ‘Crooked Teeth’. Made the mistake of writing it in pencil. It’d be so easy to just-”

Slamming the laptop closed, silencing the song, Julie enveloped the ghost in a hug. He melted against her, hands gripping onto her shoulders from behind, for dear life, the weight of the reveal finally taking its toll.

“I didn’t like my middle name before. Now, I just- I just can’t stand it,” he whispered into her shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Luke”

“Were the songs not enough? He had to steal my name too?”

The ache carried by his voice made Julie squeeze tighter.

She had no words.

What Bobby did, what he took from Luke, was more than she could ever fathom. She didn’t know what to do, what to say to him to soothe the pain.

She only held him.

For as long as he needed.

___________

"How come Alex and Reggie never found out?" she would ask him later.

"Didn't make it habit to show off my journal"

She frowned, "But you let me read it."

Luke, too, had no words in response.

____________

“Hey, wanna go on a walk with me?” Julie asked him out of the blue one evening.

Luke could definitely use a break, especially from whatever row Alex and Reggie had just gotten into. He nodded and took her offered hand.

They took a stroll down her street, hands still joined but hidden in Julie’s hoodie pocket (as to not make it seem like she was grasping at air). The sun was beginning to set over the hills as they could see from their vantage point in the park, their set destination.

Julie seemed to have some purpose for this random walk because she was leading him around until they reached a tree in a more secluded part of the grounds.

Whipping out a pocket knife, Julie replaced her hand in her grasp with the odd tool.

“What’s this?”

“For a while, I lost all sense of what music meant to me. I thought music was my mom. That if she’s gone then there’s no point in going on,”

“Aw, Jules”

Her sunny disposition shone through in a smile, “It’s okay. I had to redefine music for myself. Give it new meaning. Music is not just my mom. It’s my family and Flynn. It’s you and the guys” she shrugged, “It’s me.”

“I would have told you that,” A tender touch to her forearm coaxed an even bigger smile from the girl, “You definitely are music.”

Momentarily distracted by the compliment, it took a moment for Julie to get back on track.

“What I’m trying to say is. I think it’s time for you to redefine yourself. There’s stuff in your old life that you miss, but there’s also stuff you want to leave in the past…”

It dawned on Luke what Julie was referring to.

“That ‘T’ is a placeholder. You could go by a different middle name. You could do whatever you want. You’re a ghost now. You can… move on. So,” she revealed the blade and placed it in his palm once more. She nodded at the tree.

“Go ahead. Go give your name a new meaning, Make your mark,”

Grinning, Luke picked up on her plan and began carving into the trunk, his initials, all three letters representing his name, with each mark easier to craft than the last, imbuing more love and meaning into them, just like what Julie said.

Once done, he admired his handiwork, floored by how cathartic it was, to have his name on something that was gonna last.

L.T.P

He was taking back his goddamn name.

He beheld it with pride.  

“I’ll ask again,” Julie leaned against the tree, tracing the letters with her fingers, “What’s the 'T' stand for?”

With no hesitation he said-

“Thundercat,”

“W-What?” Julie choked.

He lost it at her reaction, “You said whatever I want. I loved that show as a kid!” he giggled.  

“Lucas… Thundercat… Patterson,” Julie so badly wanted to make a comment, Luke could tell. But she changed her mind, “You know what? If it makes you so happy then go for it. Who am I to stop you?”

“Nah, I’ll think of something else later on. But it’s my afterlife. I could go through as many middle names as I want, right?”

“Exactly,”

Luke returned her knife and thought she was going to slip it back into her pocket. Instead, she strode up to the tree and proceeded to carve her own initials right below his.

“There. So your name doesn’t have to be lonely up there,” she folded up the blade and put it away.  

“You know that, uh, couples usually do that kind of thing,” Luke couldn’t help but notice that, with the way their initials were oriented on the tree.

A rosy hue graced the girl’s cheeks, “Oh...yeah.”

A beat of silence followed, just the two of them staring at the tree.

“I like how our names look next to each other though,”

Luke nodded, a warm feeling settling in the pit of his stomach and rising, “Me too.”

Squinting, he read Julie’s initials, “ J.V.M. What does the ‘V’ stand for?”

A devious glint sparkled in her eyes,  “Maybe you’ll just have to guess.”

“Aw come on!”  

She raised an eyebrow, “Oh as if you made it easy for me?”

Ok. She had him there, “Fair enough.”

The whole walk home, Luke ran through all the ‘V’ names he could think of.

“Julianna Valeria?”

“Nope,”

“Julianna Vanessa?”

“C’mon, songwriter. Where’s the flow?” she teased.

Luke snapped his fingers, believing he cracked the code, “Victoria. After your aunt,”

“No. But imagine how mad she was when she found out,”

“Venus, Vanilla, Vaseline-”

“Vaseline?”

They were at her doorstep, and he bounded in front of her, blocking her path, “I won’t give up.”

“I don’t expect you to,”

“Velveeta. Like the cheese”

“It’s Valentina,” she finally said, pushing him aside, fishing through her pockets for the keys to open the front door.

“You got Valentina while I got stuck with Trevor?” She lucked out in the middle name department, that was for sure. 

Of course someone like Julie got shacked up with a beautiful name like Valentina…

“I could change mine too. In solidarity,” she said offhandedly.

“If I go with Reggie’s suggestion: Tyrannosaurus Rex then would you be Velociraptor?”

“T.Rex and Velociraptor?” she laughed in disbelief, finally walking through the threshold of her house. Thank goodness everyone else was already upstairs.

“From this day forth, I will be known Lucas Tyrannosaurus Rex Patterson!” he confidently declared

“And I’ll be Julianna Velociraptor Molina!” she repeated, taking much pleasure in the absurdity of it.

“Were you a dinosaur kid?”

“You saw my slippers and my PJs...”

“True,”

_______

Luke didn’t expect for them to take the whole new middle name thing so seriously.

But if they so happened to greet each other next time with prehistoric roars and with him tackling her onto the studio couch and pretending to bite her like the carnivore he was, then that was for them to know…

And for Alex and Reggie to remain confused about.

__________

Bonus:

And after some years down the line and one magical reincarnation later, Luke decided to change his name again.

“Patterson’s okay,” he said to Julie, “But I think I need something new.”

“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?”

Luke went down on one knee, in front of the tree they marked up when they were teenagers, ring in hand.

“Molina sounds pretty good to me…”

[folkloreguk]

Colvers Castle (M)

A/N: This one’s for the bisexual horror-obsessed girls (me)!!! Jk anyone can read this, but I had the best time EVER writing this sdfgh also I was gonna post this around Halloween but I couldn’t wait any longer so here you go!!

genre: mystery / creepy? / smut (optional bias (male) x reader (female))

warnings: a little gore (describing (fake) wounds and costumes), unprotected sex, the reader might be a little risky, mentions of murder / suicide

summary: Two girls go to a Halloween party held at an old castle. What kind of creatures will they encounter, and will they ever be the same afterward?

words: ~5.6 k

“Oh my god!! You look so good!” you whisper-yelled towards your friend who was already sitting on the bench at the bus stop. Her blood red dress sparkled and although her red knee-high boots couldn’t have been too comfortable, they sure made her look incredible. On her head sat a pair of light-up horns and silver chains and chokers adorned her neck. She grinned widely upon laying eyes on you. At first, you had planned on wearing the same outfits, but then you had opted for dressing as polar opposites. Where her horns sat, a fluffy halo seemingly floated above your head. Your dress had a similar cut, but was a simple white, satin material and your necklace had a subtle golden heart pendant just between your collar bones.  

“Where’s your trident?” you asked, taking a seat next to her.

“I figured it’s not too safe to dance with an item that could potentially poke out someone’s eye,” she said. “So I left it at home.”

“Fair enough,” you agreed, laughing. “Are you excited?”

“I’ve been freaking out since I got up this morning,” she said, waving her hands in the air dramatically. “A real castle? This has to be fun!”

The two of you were headed to the hottest Halloween party in your city. Usually, you weren’t the biggest fan of parties. But combined with dressing up and going to an old castle outside of the city, this party sounded like it was going to be the best night of the year.

“Finally, the bus is here,” you pointed out. When you stood in line to get on, you noticed how you and your friend weren’t going to be the only party-goers on the vehicle. But then again, there weren’t many bus lines that would bring you to the castle. You spotted a Michael Jackson boarding the bus a few people away from you, followed by a fake-blood-drenched clown. The sight only amped up your enthusiasm. Costumes had always been one of your favorite parts about Halloween. And judging by the scale of the party, you were going to have a lot to observe today. You squeezed past Dracula onto the seat next to your friend and off you went.

The ride to the castle took a while. You had to first ride through almost your whole city and then take a rather abandoned road through the countryside to the site of the party. But you got busy catching up with your friend who you hadn’t seen in a while and time passed quickly. You were in the middle of discussing which was the scariest film you had ever watched, when your eyes locked on a bright light in the otherwise dark scenery outside.

“We’re almost there!” you exclaimed, diverting your friend’s attention to the castle. You had been going through a forest, so when you suddenly exited the tree maze, the bright lit up stone walls of the castle came as an extra-pleasant surprise to you. Only a few minutes later, the voice on the bus announced the stop ‘Colvers Castle’ and soon you pulled up in front of it.

Weakly, you could remember visiting the castle with your school class when you had been a lot younger. You might had grown up since then, but nonetheless the cold, inured stone walls still impressed you. Hadn’t it been for the violet lights shining onto the side of the ancient building, the gaping gate in the battlement would have looked less than uninviting to you. Your friend squeezed your arm in happiness while you approached the entry. From somewhere, music was carried through the air and made you smile.

“Are we allowed to enter all of the castle?” you asked.

“No way! The well-preserved part and the museum will be closed off, I’m pretty sure the party is mainly focused on the inner courtyard,” your friend explained. “They wouldn’t let rowdy teenagers and drunk crazies riot inside such a precious castle.”

Just as she had finished her sentence, your eyes followed the stones in the walls up to where the purple light couldn’t reach. The turrets rose high, and the night was pitch dark. But you could have almost sworn there was a small light coming from the tiny window at the top of one of the turrets. Maybe some party guests had run off after all? There. This time there was no doubt in your mind. There was a man’s expressionless face in a window, looking out at the arriving guests.

“Hey, look up there!” you tugged your friend’s arm. Her eyes followed your finger, but when you looked at where the face had been, it was gone.

“What’s up there?” she asked. Just for a moment, you searched the rows of windows. Maybe you had accidentally lost it. But no matter where your eyes went, all you saw was darkness inside the castle. You mumbled a ‘nevermind’ to your friend and quickly wiped the thought off your brain. This was a Halloween party, and you were ready for it. Along with the familiar faces from the bus ride, the massive gate swallowed you up into the courtyard of the castle.

It was obvious that the major action of the party was going on here. The all-too well known ‘Thriller’ by Michael Jackson was playing from the speakers and you grinned at the young man dressed as the famous singer, who you had already seen on the bus, for a moment.

Party guests were yelling in excitement and singing along, all whilst dancing in a sea of people right in front of you. The main grass area had been transformed into a dance floor. Immediately, your friend pulled you along and into the crowd. In the blink of an eye, the buzz and energy from everyone around you sprung onto you as well, and before you knew it you were moving along to the music. Whoever had managed to throw this event really had an eye for choosing a great venue. Usually, there was something magical and peaceful about the castle. Tonight, however, dunked in red and purple lights and occupied by hundreds of young souls, it made for the perfect backdrop of a legendary Halloween party.

“Welcome to everyone who just got off the bus to join us!” a voice shouted through the speakers, just before the next song started. Your eyes scanned your surroundings. Quickly you had spotted the DJ stand, where a young woman and a man were providing the guests with music. They were wearing matching zombie makeup and outfits and the crowd cheered at their words, an infectious excitement that caught on to you right away.

Time moved differently on a dance floor. Bodies pushed against you, always keeping you moving along. The beat of the music seeped through your skin and into your muscles, almost as if it was your new energy source. It was hard for you to remember how many songs had played since you had arrived. Had it been fifteen minutes or an hour? You could barely hear over the volume intensity, but then again, you didn’t need to. There was no need to talk to your friend right now, who was moving to the rhythm with her hands in the air, grinning at you.

That’s when a figure in a pirate costume pushed themselves between you and her, apparently having taken a liking in your devil-friend. Lazily, she put her arms on the pirate’s shoulders, inviting him to dance with her. You weren’t upset, though. All you wanted was to have fun, and you wished her the same. A girl in a witch costume replaced your friend, and although you had never met her before, there was something about dancing together that made you feel closer to her than you felt to some people you saw every other day. Her hands were on your waist and you shared a moment with your faces close to each other. It was harmless flirting through gazes without either making another move, drawing a smile on your face.

But as soon as she had appeared, she was moving on to the next person. She granted you another toothy smile, like she didn’t have a care in the world, before turning to a vampire girl. You scanned your immediate proximity to check if your friend was anywhere in sight. When you spun around, you spotted the red fabric her dress was similar to, so you squeezed through a few people to get to her. But as you tapped her shoulder and she turned her head it wasn’t your friend. This girl had fake blood smeared across her cheek and looked nowhere like a devil.

Thinking you might have better luck with observing the crowd from an outward perspective, you wriggled yourself through bodies until you reached the edge of the dance area. To your left was a sign saying ‘game zone’. Intrigued, you entertained yourself for a minute by watching a boy dunk his head under water whilst bobbing for apples in a barrel. As soon as you would find your friend, you were planning on convincing her to take a shot at some games. But for now, you needed something to drink. Although you were outside, your cheeks still felt warm and your throat was a little dry from the cheering.

So you opted to walk the other way, pursuing the direction of the ‘bar’ sign. As soon as you had located a free seat, you strutted towards the chair. The bartenders were all wearing superheroes’ costumes and you admired the decorations, ranging from pumpkin heads and little ghosts to spider webs, they had put up.

“Can I get you anything?” cat woman asked you. She gave you a grin as she remembered your face. She had once gone to the same school as you. You quickly ordered before spinning around to get a good look at the dancing crowd. The bar was up on a slight hill, so you were seated at a higher level than the dancers. But the darkness made it challenging for you to accurately spot faces and combined with the way everyone was moving, you quickly gave up on your plan of finding your friend this way. Maybe if you waited a while, she would show up by the bar herself.

“Here’s your drink,” you heard a voice from behind you. When you turned your head, the bartender was placing a glass in front of the young woman next to you. She was dressed like a princess, but her face looked nothing like a fancy noble woman. Her eyes were blood shot and two single lines of blood ran down her white-powdered cheeks.

“I believe this is yours,” she said, sliding the drink over to you. “I didn’t order anything.”

“Thank you,” you said, checking the liquid. She was right. The bartender must have gotten you mixed up. “I like your hair, it’s beautifully done.”

She smiled at your compliment. Then she pushed your glass a little closer towards you and bent over to your ear. “Be careful of your drink. Men like to take advantage of women.”

“I won’t let it out of my sight, don’t worry,” you thanked her whilst smiling. Her expression had been dead serious, almost making you feel uneasy. But when she saw the way you smiled, her features softened. Her mouth that had tiny red lips drawn onto them curled into a beautiful, but kind of sad smile.

As you both turned to yourselves again, you decided to appreciate your favorite part about Halloween – the costumes – for a while. The classics were present: Vampires, killer clowns, zombies and the latest horror movie villains. A wildly dancing group of teenagers all disguised in robes from the Hogwarts -houses made you chuckle. And as always, there was a fair share of people who were wearing undefinable costumes that mainly consisted of random fake wounds or fake blood on their faces and clothing but didn’t impress you all that much. And lastly, there were the lazy ones, who settled for hiding their face behind a cheap mask, so they at least appeared to have made an effort.

For a moment, you dug for your phone and checked if your friend might have texted you. But there were no notifications. You quickly typed a text “where are u?” and let your phone disappear in your small bag. Whilst waiting if she would reply, you decided to take a trip to the toilets. As you walked there, you made more costume observations. To your left, next to the bar, a stone wall ran all the way around the courtyard. Party guests were using it as a seating accommodation, as it was a nice way to overlook the whole atmosphere. A realistic looking version of the nun from the Conjuring-movies sitting on the wall impressed you quite a bit. Next to her, a couple was seated. You couldn’t quite figure out what their outfits were supposed to portray, but they surely weren’t modern day clothes. You admired the makeup they had put on their necks. It looked as if they had slashed throats.

After you had arrived at the bathrooms and finished your business, you checked your texts one more time – but still nothing came from it. You were sure she was simply having too much fun to check her phone. As you walked down the hallway to the exit back into the courtyard, you spotted a young man standing at the end of it. Behind him was a ‘no entry’ sign, that had been temporarily installed to keep party-goers out of the castle. The young man was wearing a white button up shirt and pants that made him look a little like a Disney prince – had it not been for the fake blood that soaked the fabric on his chest, which made him appear more like Dracula. He smiled at you shyly, before turning and walking further down the closed off hallway.

“I don’t think people are supposed to go there,” you spoke, glad that you didn’t need to raise your voice as much because the music was drowned out by the thick castle walls.

“No one’s here to stop me,” he said, before climbing over the fence. “Will you join me for some fun?”

You didn’t think you’d find your friend any time soon, and if she was going to run off with some random pirate stranger, maybe you should too? The vampire prince sure was handsome. Carefully, you walked closer to the fence.

“I’m sure those doors are locked,” you said, watching as he approached the door at the end of the hallway.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he smirked, and next thing you knew he was opening the door that said ‘staff only’ on it. “Care for a free castle tour?”

“How do I know you’re not a creep?” you asked.

“How do I know you’re not a creep?” he replied, laughing. “I’m just bored of having so many people around, alright? If you don’t come with me, I’ll go by myself.”

Your curiosity took over. And maybe he had a charm about him – a sly smirk, a few buttons on his shirt undone or maybe it was his voice that sounded like honey.

“Fine,” you hurried over the fence and squeezed yourself through the opening in the door after him. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I plan on not letting you forget me,” he said. “But there’ll be no regrets.”

His words were vague, and there was a strange feeling about him, but you simply couldn’t put your finger on it. You looked around. The only light falling into the hallway came from the party outside. This part of the castle seemed to belong to the museum, but the further you followed him through the corridors, the rougher the stone walls seemed.

“You want to see a nice view?” he asked, and of course you did. So, you took the stairs up to a higher level. The rooms here had neither doors nor glass windows and generally didn’t seem to have been restored like the part of the castle that was open to the public.

“Are you real?” he asked.

Your brows furrowed. “Real?”

“A real angel?” he asked. He was walking ahead of you, so you couldn’t check his face for whether he was joking or waiting to attempt a silly pick up line.

“I’m a human being, just like you,” you said.

“You sure do look like an angel,” he said. The sincerity in his voice surprised you. This guy had a strange way of flirting, but you preferred it over the gross sexual remarks other men considered to be flirting.

“Thank you. And what are you tonight?” you asked. You took a look outside into the courtyard. The scene looked breathtaking from above, and this way you could appreciate the immortal beauty of the castle even better.

“I’m the ruler of this house,” he said, smiling. He was coming closer to you now, and you smirked.

“Oh, a prince?” you asked, returning his smile. “If an angel let someone touch her, I think it would have to be a prince.”

“You’re bold,” he said, but he was grinning. “Suddenly I’m glad they are hosting a damn party here on Halloween. So, would you let me touch you?”

“Please,” you said. His eyes were dark and suddenly filled with lust. When his lips first smashed against yours, they felt a little cold, but the moment your tongue swept over his bottom lip and he parted his mouth, his hot tongue met yours. You felt like he had set you on fire in the best way possible. It had been a while since someone had made you so horny in such a short time. Within seconds your hands were in his hair, tugging softly, and his hands wandered from your neck to the front of your dress. Your back arched against his touch eagerly as he squeezed your boobs through your bra.

You didn’t feel in the mood for long foreplay, and luckily it seemed he thought the same. He grabbed your ass, pushing you against him so you would feel his growing bulge. A moan slipped past your lips and you felt like covering your mouth.

“No one hears us here, don’t worry,” he said.

“Sorry, I’ve just never done it in such a…public setting,” you said. Although you doubted anyone else even knew they could enter the castle this easily. Hungrily, you kissed him again and pulled him towards you with such urge that you stumbled backwards a few steps. Your back touched the wall, sending shivers down your spine from the cold of the stone. Teasingly, he lifted the hem of your dress to the top of your thighs, his fingers playing with the suspenders of your garter.

“You like my lingerie?” you asked.

“Hmm…but I think I’ll like what’s underneath more,” he said, fingers ghosting over your center. Impulsively, your eyes closed at even such a tiny touch.

“Then please hurry up,” you urged him, and he chuckled. Swiftly, he pulled aside your underwear and slid one of his fingers between your soaking folds. You sucked in a breath and leaned your head against the wall behind you. On instinct, your hips moved against his hand for more friction. He added another finger, toying with your clit in rapid movements. How did your legs already feel like jelly? You held onto him for support while his free hand pulled you flush against him. When he pushed his digits past your entrance, you hummed in agreement. Expertly, he curled them inside of you, using his thumb on your clit.

“Am I supposed to find angels sexy?” he asked, gaining your attention.  

“Yes,” you replied. “And I hope they give you a boner because I want you to fuck me.”

At the same time, you ran your hands down his sides and to his hips to the visible tent in his pants. He grunted when you palmed him through the material and probably also at your words from a few seconds ago. Finally, he removed his hands from between your legs, but you weren’t upset because you knew there was more to come.

“If you turn around, you can have what you want,” he said. More than willingly, you did as he said. When you turned your head, you watched him unzip his pants just enough so he could pull down his underwear and expose his hard length. You placed your palms flat against the wall and arched your back a little. When he slowly pulled up your dress to rest the silky material around your waist, you whimpered in impatience. He knew what he was doing, and he loved hearing you as you quietly asked him to speed things up. You felt the sudden urge to press your legs together as he pulled down your underwear, just slightly so it stayed around your thighs and wouldn’t fall on the dirty ground.

He hissed a little when he let the tip of his cock run over your center, your wetness covering him. For a few seconds he teased you, drawing out more of your whines. But the teasing only made it feel more rewarding when he eventually entered you. He filled you up all the way, then slowly pulled out almost fully, only to pull your hips against him and quickly thrust into you again. With time, he picked up a steady pace, hips slapping against your ass with every movement. You rested your head against the wall, feeling the rough material against your cheek, but you couldn’t have minded less.

There was something so intimate about hearing someone moan. And it felt especially intimate when it was a person you had just encountered. You realized you hadn’t even bothered asking for his name, but you were confident you would never forget him and the way he felt inside of you. When you’d think back to this, you’d remember his fingers digging into your hips, pulling you against him with ever thrust, and the way your moans mixed with the noise of the party in the background. People were cheering and singing while a famous song was blasting through the speakers, but really all you heard were your own whimpers of pleasure.

The air was cool on your bare skin, giving you goosebumps. Simultaneously, you felt hot all over, every of his touches seemingly leaving a trace of fire wherever he laid his hands on you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment when you felt his fingers between your legs.

“I’m so close already,” you said, his new actions only adding to the sensation. He drew random shapes onto your center, clouding your mind with the need to just let go and let your orgasm wash over you. He groaned when you clenched around him, and from the way his thrusts quickened and seemed a lot less controlled, you could tell he was almost there too. His curse words and your moans went well together, and before you knew it you felt him twitch inside of you. His liquid spilled out of your core as he pulled out. He breathed heavily but didn’t stop his touching on your clit.

Your thighs trembled when he rubbed faster, pulling your body close to him. You could feel his breath on the side of your neck, only making you feel dizzier. It could have been the drink from earlier, but you were almost convinced it was him who was making you feel as if you were drunk. Your whimpers sounded longer and more dragged out now, and right before you came, they silenced completely. He didn’t stop while your body arched and shook because of his perfect fingers on you. Tightly, your eyes shut and you clenched your hands to fists. When you felt your knees become especially weak from sensitivity you softly tugged on his wrist, signaling him to stop.

Letting out a sigh of both happiness and exhaustion, you spun around. You blinked at him tiredly and smiled. Your head rested against the wall as you watched him pull his pants back up, so you did the same.

“You were amazing,” you said.

“So were you,” he replied, tilting his head a little when he grinned at you. Meanwhile, you picked your bag off the ground. Just as you did so, you felt a vibration coming from inside. Quickly, you checked your phone. “I’m waiting by the bar”, your friend had finally texted you.

“Do you want to come join me and my friend at the party? I lost her earlier so I should really go and see her now,” you asked the handsome stranger in front of you.

“Oh, no thanks. I’d rather stay here for a while longer,” he declined.

“Alright, whatever you like. Maybe I’ll see you again later?” you said.

“That would be nice,” he smirked. “Do you remember the way out?”

You hummed a yes and said your goodbyes to each other. The empty castle hallways were a lot creepier when you walked them by yourself. You imagined how it must have been back then, walking down this corridor. The light of a candle would have made your shadow dance menacingly on the unwelcoming, cold walls and the sound of your footsteps would have been heard even from far away. But the uneasy atmosphere only lasted until you had reached the familiar door. When you opened it, reality engulfed you again.

Your walk to the bar was hasty, since you hadn’t replied to your friend and you didn’t want her to think you wouldn’t show up. The party was just as energetic as before. You even had the feeling that more people had showed up since you left it a while ago. When you neared the seats, you spotted your friend instantly, this time being sure you weren’t mistaken.

“Where were you?” you asked, slinging your arm around her shoulder and grinning from cheek to cheek.

“I could ask you the same,” she replied, giving you a sly look. “Look at you. Your hair and lipstick’s all messed up.”

You chuckled as she ruffled your hair and put your halo back in place.

“Okay, I’ll go first. I met this guy,” you said. She raised her eyebrows as if she was surprised, but you knew she wasn’t. “We might have sneaked off into the castle.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t!” she almost yelled over the music. “I want every detail tomorrow.”

“Alright, granted. What about you?” you asked. “Was the pirate a good kisser?”

She only laughed and nodded her head yes.

“I saw they had a game area over there,” she pointed out.

“Let’s go, and then you can tell me more about that guy,” you said, pulling her along with you. Happily, you sang along to the song that was playing. You couldn’t wait for the rest of the night. Although neither of you tried your luck in apple bobbing, your precious makeup having been too much work to destroy it this way, you found a bunch of other games to participate in. You made temporary friends with a bunch of drunk girls who were all trying to win the main prize in a game but were simply too intoxicated to knock down some cans with balls. So you and your friend helped them out, to which they seemed to have crowned you their new group members. You danced some more, and time passed way too fast for your liking.

By the time you stepped back onto the bus that would bring you home, it was hard for you to say goodbye to the castle. So, this was Halloween for another year. The party mood hadn’t died down, even on the bus ride home, because it was filled with guests. When you watched the castle become smaller, you noticed the heavy fog that seemed to have appeared from nowhere all of a sudden. It engulfed the ancient building into a cloud of white smoke, the further the bus distanced itself from it. As you entered the woods, the only thing left to be visible were the eerie purple lights shining through the fog.

Tiredness came over you when you finally stepped off the bus at your stop. It was a short walk home and you promised to call your friend first thing in the morning before you said your goodbyes. You could already spot your home when you thought back to the stranger from the castle. He had called himself the ruler of the house. His handsome features and smile were livid in your head, even when you silently entered your room and took off your shoes. As you changed into your sleepwear and got ready for bed, you noticed the forming bruises on your hips, but they only made you grin to yourself.

Yawning, you fell into bed, but not before checking if your friend had texted you. Got home safely, goodnight x, she had sent. You quickly replied to let her know you were at home as well and went to switch off your phone. But then curiosity suddenly came over you. With rapid clicks, you searched for the castle’s museum’s website on the internet. Maybe you could find out who had really lived there, hundreds of years ago.

You clicked the ‘history’ button and began to scan the texts, even though your eyelids felt heavier with each second.

King Walter III and Queen Alice ruled the castle. Their two sons Hugh and Henry and their daughter Beatrice grew up happily in the castle. But starting from year 1568, the lives of the noble family took a drastic downfall. Henry, the younger of the two brothers, had always felt jealousy over his older brother Hugh, who would one day inherit the throne from their father. His greed and envy drove him to great lengths, until one day, Henry took out his anger on his brother directly. He stabbed Hugh in his sleep, in rage so blind that even his father could barely stop him when he fell witness to the dire scene. Distraught and outraged by this event, the older brother was locked away in a tower, threatened to never see another face ever again in punishment for his crime. But the unfortunate events didn’t end there. Princess Beatrice had fallen for a Lord from another kingdom, who took it upon himself to take what she had from her. In their wedding night, he was said to have poisoned her drink. She went to bed and never awoke to see the next day. There is only so much parents can take in one year. So, in utter devastation, the king and the queen made a decision together. After having their favorite red wine and watching their last sunset together, they committed suicide by cutting open their throats and died sad, but together. Prince Henry was said to have been forgotten, locked up in his tower all alone, facing a lonely and slow death on his own. Some say they can still hear the voices of the royal family in the castle halls at night, and if you look close enough, you might find their ghosts haunting the castle to this day. Why don’t you come visit us and find out for yourself?

You shivered and felt a little uneasy at the way the museum was advertising something so horrible. But when you scrolled down the page just a little further, what you saw knocked out the breath from your lungs. It was a picture, an old painting to be exact, of the family. And there he was. The prince was staring at you blankly, and you felt tears well up in your eyes in disbelief. It was the stranger who had taken you into the castle. You thought back to his blood drenched shirt. As if he had been stabbed. You shook your head no when your eyes fell on the rest of the family. You recounted Princess Beatrice from where she had been sitting by the bar next to you, telling you to watch over your drink. You saw the queen and the king, who you had noticed sitting on the stone wall, holding hands, the wounds on their throats having looked almost too realistic to have been fake. And then you remembered your arrival at the castle. You thought back to the face you had definitely seen in the window at the top of one of the towers. This was all just coincidence, right? Your stomach turned in terror. Had someone tried to play a joke? But if so, why had their faces looked so perfectly similar to the family in the painting?

Quickly, you pulled up the social media of the girl, your school friend, who had served you at the bar. ‘Do you remember the girl dressed as a princess with bloody tears who you accidentally gave my drink to? She was sitting next to me at the bar’, you quickly typed and sent.

For at least an hour, you twisted and turned in your bed, going from almost sleeping to nervously checking your phone for a reply. You thought you were going crazy. But sooner or later, you realized she might have had too much to do, cleaning up the party or simply going to sleep herself, and you drifted off to slumber.

When you awoke the next day, the previous night almost felt like it had been a scary dream. But when you checked, your hips were still bruised and you had a new message from the girl who had worked at the bar: As far as I remember, the seat next to you was empty. I gave the drink to you. You were dressed as an angel, right? Why are you asking?

[gallivantingheart]

the proposal pt.1

who?: jeonghan x (f)reader

word count: 1495

genre/s: fluff and a bit of fun

warnings: none!

synopsis: jeonghan has never been confused on how you feel about marriage - now it’s just a matter of how to do it.

a/n: just a fun diddy bc i love this sleepy man - no, not based off that movie with sandra bullock

note: bold italics = korean

You confuse him endlessly. More so than the likes of his cryptic self or round-about Jihoon. How you say action is your favourite genre but he catches you watching the same romance movie at least once every few weeks, singing and crying at the same parts. How your wardrobe is full of dark hoodies and you wear the same ripped jeans, but your nails are always sparkly and your draws have pastel blouses. You'll say you don't need romantic gestures, but almost always squeal when he drops flowers by your office. Or the fact you say you're bad at them but always pull the best tear-jerkers on him. Like the time you brought him dinner to the practice room - vase of flowers and all - at midnight while keeping him company, even though he knew you had a client presentation the next day. The comeback prep was gruelling, so yeah, he got a bit misty-eyed.

At least one thing he's not confused with is your opinion of marriage. Despite this comfort, even though you've been together for almost four years, you've never once brought up marriage, even casually. You cried though, when Mingyu and Chaewon got engaged at their anniversary party last year. Babbled wetly into his shoulder about how sweet love was, meant to be and the like - for the record, you were completely sober. Sobbed even longer as one of Chaewon's bridesmaids that Jeonghan had to collect you from the altar after they left the venue. And he's seen you look at apartments to share, linger on pinterest on a Saturday afternoon.

He wants it just as bad as you, but no idea how to broach it. You’ve talked about how you want a rescue cat when you move in together as well as the style of decor. Even said in passing at a park how you hope that your kids have his smile because it’s, “the most beautiful thing I get to see every day.” Jeonghan doesn’t want to overwhelm you with a grand public proposal, but he doesn’t know how to wow you like you do for him all the time. Jeonghan’s gotta be honest - he wants the whole shebang. Smiles, tears, blubbering; the lot.

He also realises that he wants it recorded for your mum when he calls her for her blessing. You moved a whole hemisphere away a year before the two of you met, to pursue a job in the entertainment industry. Something interesting and left of field found you in Korea working in concepts and marketing. So phone and video calls are a regular for the two of you. He’s also tried really hard over the years to improve his English, to bridge the gap with your family. Jeonghan thinks your mother is amazing, kind and funny - the kind of level head he expected to bring such a wonderful person like you into the world.

He’s English is nowhere near good enough for what he wants to say, so he asks for a familiar face to help out. Joshua is on the video call too, made in Shua’s clean dorm. Your mother looks a little surprised to not see you there. You both have the same texture of hair, but not much else.

“Jeonghan! How are you!” She waves.

He smiles at her enthusiasm. “Good thank you. How are you?”

“I’m really good, sweetheart. Bit of a weird time to call - everything okay? Where’s y/n?”

He sees her search the screen for her daughter, even so much as leaning side to side to try and see outside the frame. Some of her speech is still lost on him, so he looks to Joshua in question. He leans over to his ear.

“She’s wondering if everything is okay for you to be calling at this time.”

Jeonghan raises his brows and nods in understanding. Her expression changes as well, the lines around her eyes softening with the fading concern.

“It is okay. Y/N is at work. I...I have a question to ask you. Just us. It’s very important.” He twists his ring anxiously in his lap.

“Of course, what is it?”

Joshua can see the tension rising in Jeonghan’s shoulders, how quiet and hesitant he gets at the elder woman’s agreement. The way he looks at the woman, staring persistently. The American born member leans over with a smile.

“Hi y/n’s mum. It’s a bit of a speech, so I’ll be helping Jeonghan translate, okay?” He looks to his friend, nodding gently. “Jeonghan? Tell her.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a person like y/n... She’s kind and exciting and interesting and she makes me really happy. I hope I do the same for her. I can’t imagine my life now if she weren’t in it. I don’t want to lose all that. I would like your blessing in asking her to marry me.” Jeonghan says as clear as he can, without too much of his nerves or feelings getting in the way - usually an easy feat for him.

Joshua translates along the way and he picks up words here and there - happy and your name, of course. But he’s not watching his fellow member speak for once, instead analysing his potential mother-in-law’s reaction. He starts to jiggle his knee off the bed as he sees your mother’s expression roll from from a quirked brow to a warm smile, then watching her eyes go glassy and her chin wobble through said smile. Her hands go over her mouth once Joshua finishes and out of shot, his hand lies flat over Jeonghan’s on his sheets in a sign of comfort.

“I...I...yes. I would love to have you as part of the family officially. Of course you have my blessing.” Your mother pulls her hands away to murmur.

She fumbles to the side for tissues and Jeonghan looks to Joshua in shock. He heard a yes, but… Joshua is meanwhile beaming in return, laughing at his member’s expense.

“She would love to have you as part of the family. You have her blessing.”

Jeonghan grins, his chest so full and tense he feels like he might burst. Instead, he laughs, grasping shua’s shoulders to shake them

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

She shakes her head. “Of course I would say yes. You don’t know how much she talks about you when you aren’t there - how much she raved about you when the two of you first met. It was like the stories she used to make up as a little girl, come to life. I wish I was there to see her face when you ask.”

Jisoo translates and he laughs even more, elated being an understatement.

It took a little searching and contemplating on what kind of ring to get you. Nothing too big, because you used your hands for everything. Not gold, because you didn’t like the way it looked against your skin. He settles on loopholing the gold for white gold, something silver but reflective and a singular round diamond - only two carats or else you’d throw a fit at the mystery price. He gets a thin chain as well of the same material, knowing you were more likely to wear it round your neck than on your finger for fear of losing it. Seungkwan of all people was the one to help with the final decision, insisting on its chic simplicity and pretty glow.

Jeonghan decides on a little party to pop the question. Or as little as you can get with thirteen members and their partners as well as your friends and their plus ones. Under a guise of missing your friends and a celebration of your success with a client, he even whines that he’ll organise the food and drink. Everyone invited is in on it, of course, which heightens the stakes.

The box sits hot in his pocket or bag all week. All the members know about the little surprise coming up dance between trading their resident trickster or offering a helping hand. Seungkwan has pulled up as quite the miracle worker, his entertainment ties conjuring up a caterer on such short notice and Mingyu slipping the business card of the decorator of his engagement party - it’s a little worn from being worried in Seungcheol’s initial finding but that just adds to the charm. Like a group heirloom to be passed around.

Despite the client win, you’re still snowed under with new paperwork and contracts, so you’re none the wiser to the nerves brewing in your boyfriend which proves to be the perfect mix come the weekend.

He lets you sleep in even later than the two of you usually do, and encourages you to take up that nail salon voucher you’ve been humming and harring about - you deserve a treat, he whines. And when you shut the door gently, Jeonghan breathes a sigh of relief and an inhale of stress - now the fun really begins.

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt6 / On AO3

Lan Xichen comes to Yunping City with a secret mission in his heart. Things don't quite go according to plan.

Huang Quiling bowed deeply and thanked Lan Qiren and Jiang Fengmian once more for their help dealing with that gang of fierce corpses, which had escaped from the Burial Mounds of Yiling and made their way to Yunping City. He had explained, when they'd arrived, that he’d asked two Great Sects for their help because it had seemed to him that anything concerning the Burial Mounds required close attention. It had made sense at the moment, but Lan Xichen now realised that above all else Yunping Huang was a very small, very young sect that just didn’t have the manpower to deal with such a threat.

Not that the threat had been too great, in the end. The fierce corpses had been dealt with quite easily, just like in Lan Xichen’s memories. More easily, perhaps, since he’d remembered exactly how and where to strike them for a quick victory. For that reason, young Jiang Cheng had been particularly impressed by his performance, and Nie Huaisang even more so.

Nie Huaisang who shouldn’t have been there.

While his uncle and sect leader Jiang discussed with sect leader Huang about precautions to be taken, and what to do with the remains of those fierce corpses, Lan Xichen allowed his gaze to drift toward Nie Huaisang. The younger boy was standing on his own, near the lined up corpses, observing them with bored curiosity as if he’d never seen fierce corpses before and wasn’t too impressed by the sight. 

It might well have been the case. Lan Xichen knew that Nie Mingjue had rarely managed to drag his brother on Night Hunts, and always had to select very easy preys even when he did… not that Nie Huaisang ever did much when he was brought on Night Hunts anyway. Lan Xichen doubted he’d ever so much as subdued a small ghost, at an age when other boys already had killed several monsters and conducted exorcisms.

And yet, as soon as he’d heard about this Night Hunt near Yunping City, Nie Huaisang had begged to come.

Lan Xichen had been so stunned by the request that he'd almost refused on principle. Night Hunts were serious business, even one he knew would go smoothly, and idle observers always brought trouble. Besides, Lan Xichen had big plans for that trip to Yunping City, and knew that agreeing to let Nie Huaisang come meant he’d be put in charge of the other boy, which would disrupt his efforts to find and recruit Meng Yao into Gusu Lan.

The very last thing Lan Xichen wanted was for Nie Huaisang to be following him around while he tried to change that part of history. Partly because he dreaded anything that would bring together those two future enemies, but mostly because Nie Mingjue would never forgive him for taking his precious little brother into the brothel district.

Lan Xichen had wanted to refuse.

He should have refused.

He hadn’t, and even pushed against his uncle’s reluctance when Lan Qiren said, not without wisdom, that it might be a dangerous Night Hunt for someone of such a low level. But Lan Xichen had insisted, knowing as his uncle did not that the fierce corpses would reach the borders of Yunping City already weakened and too disoriented by their long walk to put up much resistance.

Besides, Lan Xichen hadn’t expected Nie Huaisang to do much except stand around and allow others to deal with the threat.

He’d been right. Nie Huaisang had stayed close to Lan Xichen the whole time, having apparently decided that this was the safest place to be.

That, along with the request to come to this Night Hunt, was giving Lan Xichen an impression of progress. That was something he desperately needed, he realised while watching Nie Huaisang wander among their group. The younger boy had proven surprisingly reluctant to the concept of making friends. Or at least, he’d been resisting all of Lan Xichen’s efforts, and showed no interest in the other guest disciples either, while developing an apparent obsession with Su She, of all people.

A mutual obsession, judging by the way they were both always seeking each other. A dangerous obsession, Lan Xichen thought, and so when his uncle had wondered about taking Su She with them, Lan Xichen had been forced to disagree.

They didn’t need a traitor in their midst.

Truly, if Lan Xichen had had the power, he’d have ordered Su She away already, even if it was unfair when he hadn’t yet committed any crimes. Still, since he intended to bring Meng Yao to the Cloud Recesses and keep him there, then Su She couldn't be kept around. It would be better to avoid…

“Lan gongzi, did I do something bad?” Nie Huaisang cried out, suddenly appearing in front of Lan Xichen, startling him. “You’ve been looking at me for a while and you’re frowning… I’m really sorry I wasn’t much use at all, you know! I swear I didn’t mean to drop my sabre like that, and then it would have been dangerous to get it back!”

Lan Xichen smiled, and tried not to wonder if Nie Huaisang had dropped his weapon on purpose.

Tried and failed. It was hard to not suspect Nie Huaisang of secretly scheming every time he cried out about being stupid, every time he failed at some easy task.

“You’ll have to try to train a little harder,” Lan Xichen gently scolded. “You could have gotten hurt. You’re lucky there were others to protect you, but it might not always be the case.”

“I’d never go anywhere dangerous without someone strong,” Nie Huaisang retorted with an insolent grin. “Or anywhere dangerous at all, if I can help it. I thought maybe Night Hunts would be more fun without my brother shouting at me, but in the end this was still scary and boring. I don’t think I’ll try again.”

Only years of good education prevented Lan Xichen from rolling his eyes. “I hope Nie gongzi realises that these things aren’t about having fun,” he said. ���It is about helping those in need, and defeating evil before it can cause harm to innocents.”

“Is it?” Nie Huaisang asked, looking sincerely surprised. “I thought that was just something people said. But I guess Lan gongzi is such an honest person, of course you’d really believe that, right?”

Lan Xichen tensed.

It was amazing, really, how Nie Huaisang always found exactly the most awful thing to say, and to make something like ‘honest’ sound like an insult.

“What’s going to happen now?” Nie Huaisang asked, blissfully unaware he’d said anything wrong. “It’s still pretty early in the day, do you think we’ll have a chance to visit Yunping City a bit? It'd be really neat if we could. I even brought my pocket money in case I see something nice.”

So that was why Nie Huaisang had wanted to come, Lan Xichen realised, instantly relaxing. For tourism, and to get a break from lessons. It was such a simple and innocent reason, perfectly fitting the sort of person Nie Huaisang appeared to be, but Lan Xichen had been too taken by his future memories of a ruthless manipulator. Perhaps it hadn’t all been a comedy. Perhaps until his brother’s death, Nie Huaisang had really been just silly. Just an ordinary, lazy teenager whose only agenda was to make as few efforts as possible.

It gave Lan Xichen some comfort. He would have been blind in that future he wanted to avoid, but perhaps that was because for the longest of times there really had been nothing to see.

“We need to do some clean-up first,” Lan Xichen explained, gesturing toward the defeated fierce corpses. “But I’m sure that won’t take too long. We might have the afternoon off at least, if shufu and Jiang zongzhu wish to talk with Huang zongzhu.”

They would, as Lan Xichen already knew. In fact, they had so much to say that the Lan and Jiang wouldn’t start heading home until the following afternoon. It should give Lan Xichen plenty of time to look for Meng Yao and find a way to bring him to Gusu, so he could be prevented from ever joining Lanling Jin.

Somehow.

“Will this take long?” Nie Huaisang asked, glancing toward the city.

“It’ll take less time if you help,” Lan Xichen suggested. “You’re here anyway, so you might as well. And I’m sure your brother will be proud of you if he hears you did your part.”

The advice caused Nie Huaisang to grimace and sigh, as if being asked to participate was the very worst thing he’d ever been ordered to do. In the end, he was more of a hindrance than anything, until Lan Qiren told him to get out of the way. That order he obeyed quite efficiently. 

When all the fierce corpses had been purified, their group headed back into town, toward Yunping Huang's home where they had all been invited to stay. It wasn't a very large place, so while Lan Qiren and Jiang Fengmian were offered their own rooms to freshen up, the juniors had to share one room between all of them, Lan and Jiang mixed together.

Several basins were offered to them to clean a bit, as well as some light collations to help them last until the next meal. Some of the boys were more interested in chatting than in getting clean. The Jiang boys in particular seemed quite talkative, blabbering between themselves about their great deeds, talking about how much they'd boast to Wei Wuxian about the great Night Hunt he'd missed out on, and even trying to start conversations with the Lan disciples to comment on their technique. 

Even Jiang Cheng, who Lan Xichen remembered from his future as severe and joyless, was chatting with enthusiasm. He also kept glancing toward Lan Xichen, as if wishing to say something but lacking the nerves to actually do it. Lan Xichen found it a little amusing to think that the terrifying future Sandu Shengshou had once been shy, but didn't pay it much mind. 

He had a goal to accomplish while in Yunping City, and mingling with peers would have to wait. 

It did not take too long for Lan Xichen to clean up and be ready to head out again. As he prepared to do so, he stumbled upon his uncle who asked him whether he’d seen Nie Huaisang. It appeared that while everyone went to rest and freshen up, Nie Huaisang had left the house, and alone at that.

Although he tried his best to look suitably worried, Lan Xichen almost leaped from joy at the news. Nie Huaisang’s mischief gave him the perfect excuse to head out as well… and since none of the other juniors were done cleaning up, since the adults had much to discuss, Lan Xichen had no trouble at all arguing that he could go alone after his friend’s brother. He promised to be careful, and to bring back Nie Huaisang as soon as he found him. He’d have promised anything, really, and only felt mildly guilty for immediately heading in the direction where he thought Meng Shi’s brothel should stand.

Lan Xichen had not often come to Yunping City, in that future he remembered, and the town had not left a very big impression on him. On this present Night Hunt, he’d mostly been worried about supervising other juniors while his uncle discussed politics with the other two sect leaders. Then, on his second visit, Lan Xichen had been a prisoner, weakened and worried that after having been kidnapped by the man he had trusted the most, he might get murdered once he outlived his usefulness as a hostage. In such circumstances, in neither of his visits Lan Xichen had really paid attention to his surroundings. Adding to this the fact that Yunping City would change a good deal in the twenty years to come...

Lan Xichen got lost.

He got immensely lost, and realised, a little late, that he couldn’t ask for direction. He’d never learned the name of the brothel where Meng Shi worked, partly because he’d never thought to ask. Why would he have ever needed that information? Why ask a question that would only have upset his dear friend by reminding him of his origins?

Of course this wouldn’t have been a problem if there had only been one brothel in Yunping City.

There were many more than one brothel in the city, as Lan Xichen discovered when he reached the right neighbourhood. Wrong neighbourhood.

A neighbourhood.

Since it was only afternoon, there wasn’t too much activity going on, aside from the different brothels starting to get ready for the night, or welcoming a few special clients. Walking in the streets, Lan Xichen heard laughter coming from the buildings, and arguments as well. He found himself forced to mostly keep his eyes to the road in front of him, because looking up meant he risked catching a glimpse of a lady or young man in a partly undressed state, arguing from a window with someone in the street or just enjoying some fresh air. But of course, refusing to look up made it virtually impossible to try and recognise the building he was looking for.

After well over a shichen of aimless wandering, Lan Xichen felt himself fall into despair. This plan of his might not have been very well thought out, and he was well and truly lost now. If his uncle came looking for him and found him in such a place…

“Lan gongzi?” a squeaky voice called out, startling him. “What are you doing here?”

Lan Xichen turned, and found himself staring at Nie Huaisang.

It would have been hard to say, between the two of them, who was the most embarrassed one. Nie Huaisang certainly looked quite stunned, but perhaps also a little upset that he had cried out like that instead of escaping unseen. Lan Xichen had a feeling the younger boy wasn’t quite as lost as him.

“I was looking for you,” Lan Xichen explained. “And then I ended up here.”

Nie Huaisang let out a curse. “Damn, I thought I’d been more discreet than that,” he grumbled, confirming Lan Xichen’s suspicion. “Well, cat’s out of the bag, uh? I’m here because I figured I might buy some spring books without anyone breathing down my neck. So, uh, I’m quite well as you see, so you can go back. I’m sure I won’t be very long. Well, I hope. I’ve just got to find what I’m looking for.”

Lan Xichen couldn’t refrain a small smile upon hearing this. He knew, distantly, that Nie Huaisang had eventually become quite well known among guest disciples for having smuggled some spring books into the Cloud Recesses. Apparently, it was a hobby in which he was already quite invested, if he’d dared to venture alone in such a part of an unknown city.

“You really should head back to the Huang sect's home,” Lan Xichen gently scolded. “It’s getting late, and you might get in trouble.”

“I’m in trouble already since you found me,” Nie Huaisang muttered, nervously glancing around. “I’m… I’m not really finding what I want so far, so I’d like… please Lan gongzi, can you pretend you didn’t see me and let me look a little longer?”

“I promised I’d take you back as soon as I found you.” 

Lan Xichen paused, and considered the situation. It was obvious that Nie Huaisang wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as him in this place. Maybe if they walked together, Lan Xichen himself would feel more at ease, and even manage to actually look at the buildings surrounding them to try and recognise those that had been near that temple, twenty years in the future.

“Nie gongzi, if you must really stay here, then at the very least I should stay at your side to make sure you don’t get in trouble.”

Nie Huaisang startled so badly at the suggestion that he nearly tripped and fell. His face turned very pale, and he started fidgeting nervously with his sleeve. He hadn’t yet gotten into the habit of always carrying a fan, as he would during the following year, or else Lan Xichen knew Nie Huaisang would have opened such a fan and hidden behind it.

“Lan gongzi! This really isn’t a place for you!” Nie Huaisang squeaked.

“And it is one for you?”

Nie Huaisang grimaced. His face was turning grey with anguish, while his eyes looked red, as if he might cry.

“I’d really rather be alone, it’s too embarrassing if you’re here,” he whined miserable.

“You’re just here for spring books, right?” Lan Xichen asked, worried that the younger boy might have wanted to do more than merely look while in such a neighbourhood. “You’re not here to…”

“No!” Nie Huaisang urgently shouted. “No, I’m just here to… I just wanted to… I was…” He took a deep breath, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. “Lan gongzi, believe it or not, but I had no bad intentions at all. But something like this… how could I do it with you around? I just can’t… you’re too… And it’s getting late now, and it’ll be impossible to… ah, I messed this up, I really messed this up!”

He’d burst into tears, sobbing loudly and attracting the attention of a few passerbys. Lan Xichen knew he should have said something, tried to calm the other boy, but the sight of those tears, the tone of his voice, brought back unpleasant memories.

Lan Xichen found himself frozen, and unable to breathe.

Nie Huaisang had sounded, would have sounded the same all those times he’d come crying for help after the death of Nie Mingjue. The same pathetic tears, the same stuttering, all lies, all pretences.

Lan Xichen couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t…

“Lan gongzi?” he heard Nie Huaisang call to him, voice distant, as if coming through a thick wall. “Lan gongzi, are you unwell?”

Lan Xichen didn’t answer.

One needed air to speak, and he still couldn’t breathe.

He was feeling as if he might pass out from the lack of air, when the feeling of a burning hand on his own freezing one pulled him back to the present.

Lan Xichen took a deep, shaky breath, then another, and another, until he found himself in control again. The whole time Nie Huaisang held his hand, still sniffling and crying a few tears. His face was splotched with red, and his nose was runny, when Lan Xichen had always taken him to be the sort of person blessed enough to become more handsome with tears. Perhaps it meant this fit of crying was real, when other ones had been staged.

He couldn’t imagine the man Nie Huaisang would become holding anyone’s hand while they were unwell, nor indeed letting anyone’s discomfort distract from his own antics.

There was comfort to be found in that.

“Sorry, I sometimes have episodes like this,” Lan Xichen explained when he felt capable of speaking again. It hadn’t been the first time his other memories provoked an intense reaction, and he feared it wouldn’t be the last either. “I hope I didn’t worry you too much.”

“It was really scary,” Nie Huaisang said, squeezing his hand tight. “You looked like you were going to faint. Actually, you still don’t look too good.”

Lan Xichen didn’t feel so well, truth be told. He knew from experience he probably would be a little uneasy until he’d slept.

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he still insisted. “It could be dangerous.”

After glancing around at the now busier streets, Nie Huaisang sighed deeply. He let go of Lan Xichen’s hand and quickly wiped a few new tears.

“It’s too late, I don’t think I can do this,” he mumbled, sounding rather more emotional than he should have been about mere spring books. “I’d get in trouble now that the brothels are opening for the night. I’ll just… I don’t know. I really don’t know what I’ll do,” he sighed, and for a second Lan Xichen thought he was going to lose his breath again, until Nie Huaisang spoke again. “I can’t leave you on your own when you’re unwell, anyway. Da-ge would never forgive me. So let’s head back, and like that I can help you if you start feeling bad again.”

At some other time, Lan Xichen might have laughed, or at least smiled at the idea that Nie Huaisang could help him in any way. Whether he was a foolish boy or a scheming avenger, Nie Huaisang wasn’t one to help others.

But it was the other boy’s hand on his own that had called him back to the present, and Nie Huaisang certainly looked sincerely worried.

“Thank you, I think I’d like that,” Lan Xichen said. “I’m really sorry for ruining your fun.”

“It wasn’t much fun anyway,” Nie Huaisang replied as they started walking back toward the local sect. “And anyway, this is important too.”

Lan Xichen said nothing, a certain tiredness slowly creeping up inside him as a consequence of his moment of panic, but he smiled faintly.

Maybe he really was making progress with Nie Huaisang. And as for Meng Yao, there was always the following morning to try and find him.

Nie Huaisang was scolded by Lan Qiren when they returned to the Huang sect's dwellings, promised punishment, and ordered not to wander off again. He looked as if he might cry again, being talked down like this in front of everyone, but he just pinched his lips and nodded along, as if accepting he would be punished this harshly. It was not quite in character for him, since he usually was more the sort to argue and whine to get out of trouble, and he looked utterly depressed, almost as much as he would in a few years upon losing his brother.

If Lan Xichen hadn't been so exhausted by his moment of panic, he would have made a note of it and tried asking the younger boy what was wrong. As it was, he could barely stand anymore and had to excuse himself to go sleep before even having dinner. He thought his uncle looked a little disapproving, aware surely that such a simple Night Hunt shouldn't have tired him so… but Lan Xichen didn't care. All that mattered was sleep, so he could leave that day behind him. 

Sleep, however, brought less rest than Lan Xichen would have liked. He had nightmares throughout the night, though he couldn't remember them when he opened his eyes. He thought they'd had to do with Nie Huaisang and Meng Yao, perhaps also with Nie Mingjue, but he couldn't be quite sure.

He didn't want to remember those dreams. 

It wasn’t quite dawn when Lan Xichen woke up one final time. He quickly decided that he probably wouldn’t manage to go back to sleep, not when it might bring more nightmares. Instead he got up quietly and got dressed. As he did so his eyes scanned the room he shared with other juniors, and noticed that Nie Huaisang wasn’t present, his bed slept in but currently empty. Lan Xichen, who had wanted to meditate until the other Lan disciples awoke, changed his plans and instead went to look for Nie Huaisang. 

He didn’t have to go very far. Yunping Huang’s home wasn’t large, and there weren’t many places a guest might wander off. After checking at the door with the Huang disciple on watch duty, Lan Xichen learned that Nie Huaisang had indeed tried to go out only to be denied, and had been directed to the courtyard if he didn’t want to go back to bed. That was where Lan Xichen found the younger boy, sitting on a bench among some potted plants, restlessly moving his legs in small jerky movements and chewing on the skin around his nails hard enough to draw blood.

Lan Xichen walked closer, making sure to step a little harder than he normally would so Nie Huaisang would hear him coming. Even like this, Nie Huaisang appeared startled when he noticed he wasn’t alone anymore, and went completely still for a moment. He quickly recovered though, and without getting up bowed to Lan Xichen.

“Good morning, Lan gongzi. You’re up early, are you still unwell?”

“I’m much better. Thank you again for helping me yesterday. May I ask why you are up so early? I never took you for a morning person.”

“Well, I am, actually,” Nie Huaisang said, wringing his hands. “Early mornings are good for bird watching, you know. And I’m a night person too, because, well, there’s a lot of birds in the evening too. It’s the middle of the day I don’t like so much.”

Lan Xichen smiled, pleased that Nie Huaisang, for once, would speak to him so freely. He gestured at the bench. “May I sit with you?”

“You’re not scolding me for being awake when I shouldn’t be?”

“I’m awake too, how could I scold you?”

That answer appeared to satisfy Nie Huaisang, who motioned for Lan Xichen to sit. 

"I really should be sleeping, I know that," Nie Huaisang said, words shooting out of his mouth at high speed. "I tried, but I couldn't. And then I wanted to go for a walk, but I was told I can't, because the city has a curfew on because of those fierce corpses and also to avoid smugglers, and what if I got in trouble, or someone attacked me because I look like I have money, and also your uncle said I'm punished so I wouldn't be able to go out anyway. But I'm really bored, and I really need to go into Yunping, it's very necessary."

Nie Huaisang paused to take a breath, then resumed speaking at a more resonable speed. 

"Lan gongzi, do you think you might help me go out? I have something really important I have to do, you see. I think I'll be in huge trouble if I don't do it. And if you help me…" 

"What is it you need to do?" 

"Can't say," Nie Huaisang muttered, instantly closing off.

"Then you have to understand I can't…" 

"I can't say what it is, but I can say it's important," Nie Huaisang corrected, starting to chew on his nails again. "It's very important, and I'll owe you a favour if you help me. Please, Lan gongzi? I swear I won't do anything bad, please believe me!" 

His hands clenching on the fabric over his knees, Lan Xichen felt on the verge of another attack of breathlessness. If only Nie Huaisang had come to him in that horrible future, if he'd asked his help then… 

Before panic could really seize him, Nie Huaisang grabbed the hem of his sleeve and pulled on it like a child demanding attention. 

"Please Lan gongzi, please help me and I'll do anything you want!" 

"Anything?" Lan Xichen asked in a voice he barely recognised, as if he'd already started struggling to breathe. Nie Huaisang didn't appear to notice, and nodded eagerly.

If Lan Xichen had slept better, if he hadn't had so much on his mind, he might have told Nie Huaisang that his help didn't need to be bought, or invoked a friendship that didn't exist yet between them. But he was only half awake still, and there was in fact one thing he wanted from Nie Huaisang, something which had caused him immense distress and worry for weeks now.

"What if I asked that you distance yourself from Su She?" 

Instantly Nie Huaisang let go of his sleeve and jumped to his feet, his face twisting into a mask of contempt. 

"Then I guess I'll just do this on my own, if you're going to be like that! I can't believe… well, maybe I can,” Nie Huaisang laughed darkly. “In the end, Lan gongzi is no better than others, eh? You hold just the same ideas as the rests! It's fine. I don't need your help, if you only give it upon such a condition!" 

Lan Xichen stood up as well, and grabbed Nie Huaisang by the wrist to stop him from leaving. 

"I didn't mean that," he lied, terrified he might have ruined all his efforts already. Terrified, also, by the apparent strength of Nie Huaisang’s attachment to Su She. "I was just trying to tease you, but I'm not very good at it. I thought…” He hesitated, looking for a decent excuse only to panic again. “Isn't it common to tease people on their crush?" 

"My what?" Nie Huaisang sputtered, so shocked he stopped struggling to free himself. "He's not… I'm not… I don't think? I mean, I do like him a lot, I guess..." 

Seeing the other boy's growing confusion, Lan Xichen winced. From watching other boys his age make friends, he had assumed it was normal to tease on such a matter, and that the accepted reaction was always to vehemently deny having a crush on anyone, let alone on another boy. He had hoped that the unexpected accusation would confuse Nie Huaisang enough to make him forget his anger.

If instead, after having forced the encounter with Su She, he ended up causing a romance between the two… 

"Huaisang, I swear I'll help you sneak outside if you forget I said anything," Lan Xichen pleaded. "I was just… I'm still a little tired and I said nonsense, please forget it." 

Nie Huaisang kept silent a moment more, still thinking over that matter, before turning his attention back to Lan Xichen. It seemed to the older boy that something had changed in Nie Huaisang, who now stood a little stiffer and watched him with even less warmth than before.

“I’ll take Lan gongzi’s offer,” he said coldly. “The second offer, to be clear. But I have to say, I don’t think you should make jokes. You’re really not good at this.”

On that matter, at least, they could agree, Lan Xichen thought as they both sat again, and silently waited for a more reasonable hour to head into Yunping City. He was starting to realise that making friends was a much harder endeavour than he’d ever expected.

Lan Xichen had never tried to make anyone like him, be it in this life or the other one he remembered. His uncle had always taught him that only inferior men needed to go out of their way to obtain the good will of others, while men of true quality would let their actions speak for them and find peers of equal rank in that manner. Lan Xichen strove to be polite to people regardless of rank or affection, because being disrespectful to others was also the mark of an inferior man, but he had never tried to cross the distance between himself and others, convinced that friendship would bloom naturally where it was meant to do so.

Looking back on it, Lan Xichen realised that the man he would have become only ever had two friends, and very few people that could be described as more than acquaintances. Three friends, if one included his younger brother… but it left something of a sour taste in Lan Xichen’s mouth to think that he needed to include Lan Wangji in such a list. Most people, he was aware, didn't need to count family among their list of friends.

What bothered him the most, though, was that his future self hadn’t even minded. After everything that had happened, he had counted himself lucky to even have a friend like Jin Guangyao, and had been willing to close his eyes to anything that might have displeased him about the other man. Lan Xichen had convinced himself that he didn’t need to become close to others, all because becoming close to others meant exposing himself to the pain of losing them, should they die.

He hadn't been very good at dealing with loss.

Lan Xichen didn’t want that part of his future, either, he realised. Being an accomplice to crimes was awful, certainly, but this bothered him as well. He had no interest in becoming that lonely man who hid everything behind a smile of empty warmth.

Sadly, that meant he needed to learn to make friends

Judging by the side glares Nie Huaisang was throwing his way now and again, and the way the younger boy kept moving aside so there was as much space as possible between them, as if Lan Xichen's very proximity were now intolerable to him, making friends wasn't going to be easy.

[sylvie-writes]

How about a Chris x reader one shot where they find out if the baby is a boy or a girl? And they announce their pregnancy to the world via a cute insta post of dodger saying he’s leveled up to big brother status?

a/n: y’all got me in baby fever 🥺 I love this sm.

For a good amount of time, you and your husband Chris have been trying for a baby.

The very day you tried a test, and it came back positive, Chris was ecstatic. He literally scooped you up in his arms and spun you around, pressing many kisses to your face.

Chris Evans was most definitely ready to be a dad.

About four months in, it was finally time to find out the gender of your baby.

In the car you and Chris talked a mile a minute, talking about hundreds of names.

“Tobias?”

“Christopher, what planet are you on? No way!”

He laughed, “ok ok, how about Cooper?”

“Good redemption, bubs.”

Arriving at the appointment, your nerves were laced with excitement and you could tell Chris was the same.

As he sat on the waiting room bench with you, you could see his leg bouncing, a nervous habit.

Tenderly, you placed your hand on his knee and kissed his temple.

“It’s gonna be okay, big guy.”

He tried his best to give you a genuine smile and instead pulled you close for a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Mrs. Evans?”

You looked up to see a nurse, clipboard in hand and polite smile.

Standing from the bench, you held out a hand for your husband.

Placing his large hand in yours, he gently squeezed it as his figure stood beside you, the two of your trailing the nurse ahead.

The doctor came in and politely held a conversation with you as he put the cold gel on your lower stomach.

With the ultrasound wand pressed to your skin, he pointed out different things on the screen, both yours and Chris’s eyes glued to the machine as it held your future.

The both of had agreed that either gender you’d be happy to have, because in the end, he or she would be your first child and you’d love them regardless.

All you and Chris had wished for was a healthy baby.

And so far, that is what you had.

The little heartbeat could be heard, and even though it wasn’t the first time, tears still pricked your eyes.

After some searching and explaining of the image, the doctor came to his conclusion.

“Congrats Mr. and Mrs. Evans, it’s a boy!”

The doctor momentarily stepped out to give you and Chris some time.

Immediately your husband practically jumped you, reaching over from his seat for a hug.

“We did it, baby!”

He wore a silly grin as he looked down on you.

You gazed up through your eyelashes, happy smile as well.

The two of you shared a quick victory kiss before returning to your respective seats as the doctor would soon return.

On the car ride back, you and Chris called the family members telling them that you had found out a gender.

Of course, Chris’s siblings and parents insisted you’d meet up for dinner this weekend, claiming you needed a proper gender reveal party.

Overwhelmed with the immenses out of love from the family, you readily agreed.

You and Chris both knew the other Evans would have a lot up their sleeves, despite having already revealed the gender to them.

“Hey Handsome, since we’ve already told the family, what do you say about telling your fans?”

Chris reached over the console with his free hand. He always like to hold your hand in the car. Ever the romantic.

“I think that’s a good idea, sweetheart! You know they love Dodge.”

With a smirk you replied, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Chris chuckled at your enthusiasm and the two of you brain stormed some ideas.

Once home, you ran in, quickly grabbing Dodger who happily followed his momma.

With a few treats in hand, you got Dodger to sit in the yard.

The sun was out bright making for a good quality video.

Yes, you were really worrying at the quality of your gender reveal video. It was your first child, might as well do it 100%.

anyway, Chris handed you the ultrasound picture as you handed him the phone.

The announcement was last minute so you just used the supplies that were at your disposal.

Dodger had a blue bandanna from a birthday party and he proudly wore it once again.

Lately, he’s been protective of you, as if he knew you were expecting.

He was thrilled to be a big brother needless to say.

With Dodger sitting in the plush grass, bandanna on, and ultrasound at his feet, you added the final touches to the scene as you saw fit.

Backing up, you stood beside Chris who started filming.

“Hey lovely people! We have a big surprise for you all. Isn’t that right Dodger?”

Chris began talking to the camer and Dodger, who wagged his tail in response to his name being called.

“That’s right,” you chimed in, “You’re gonna be a big brother aren’t you bubba?”

With the best playful voice you had, you riled up Dodger who excitedly barked.

“Woooooooof.” - Dodger

Tired of obeying, the pup stood up and trotted over to you, jumping up for a kiss.

You giggle and got down on the ground where Dodger attacked you with licks.

Chris moved the camera your way, and in between laughs, tried to finish up the announcement.

“Well folks, you heard it here first! And as you can see Dodger is very excited to be a big brother.”

You continued to giggled and tried to wave goodbye as the dog continued to lick your face nonstop.

Announcement over, Chris ended the video and posted it to his story.

Story posted, the man tossed his phone aside as he knew the world would go nuts any second now.

Getting down on the ground with you, Chris helped you up from the ground, allowing you to sit back on your heels.

He laughed at your disheveled state and pulled you into a hug, fixing your ruffled hair as he did so.

The two of you stood from the ground, Chris’s arms around your waist and your hands on his chest.

You looked up into his eyes are he wore his signature smile.

“Congratulations, Mr. Evans.”

He kissed your lips, “Congratulations, Mrs. Evans.”

A/N: sorry if that was bad 😂 (i had to do a headcanon sorry love!) but requests are open!

part two “LIVESTREAM” is on my master list :)

[fallenfurther]

Homecoming - Together

Chapter 4 - The boys visit their father

Chapters 1 , 2 and 3.

A short one from Jeff's point of view. Enjoy!

*******

His whole family was relaxing in his private garden. Scott and Virgil sat beside him at the table, a pack of old playing cards between them with a game of rummy pretty much abandoned. It was a good thing they weren't keeping score as almost all their attention was on Alan. It was Alan's turn to share what had happened over the past eight years and he was currently standing before them, full of enthusiasm, as he recounted his mission to Europa. Gordon was perched on a cushion with his legs crossed, occasionally butting in with his own comments. His youngest still radiated energy, just as he’d done as a child, and Jeff could see the joy in Gordon's eyes when talking about the Pendergasts. He was going to have to look them up later to see what all the fuss was about, just as he'd done with Cavern Quest. Alan started to build up as he reached the climax of the rescue. Jeff had yet read the report for this rescue so wasn’t sure how much was being exaggerated, and although he knew they would be okay, his heart still raced at the drama. The sense of relief that washed over him when Alan informed them of their safe landing was immense. Alan really did remind him of himself, and brought back the memories and thrill of his own first trips into space. It hadn’t helped that Alan threw his arm into the air to show off their trajectory as they’d burst through the ice, face full of excitement. He'd hoped the young man would go to college, but with his eyes set on space and with access to a rocket, it might be hard to convince the boy otherwise. There was a round of applause and a bow at the end of the story, before Alan settled into the floor next to Gordon.

"So, Gordon, did you ever get to join WASP or did you go straight into the family business?"

Gordon had once had his eyes set on WASP after finishing his Olympic career. Jeff regretted that he wasn't there to see Gordon take gold, but they had shown him the footage. Gordon had been pulled into a hug as tears of pride fell from Jeff’s eyes. He'd re-watched the footage multiple times since, as well as the other home footage they had supplied over and over when he felt alone in his room. The boys had been his motivation to survive and they were still his biggest motivation now. They had all turned into respectable men despite his disappearance and he was so proud of them all.

"Actually, I did. Only for the training year though. They did say they would welcome me back if I ever got bored of International Rescue. It was definitely the right thing to do. WASP taught me so much when it came to the sea, currents and challenges of being in an underwater craft. That training set me right up for piloting Thunderbird Four, helping me work as a team and focus on learning the best ways to rescue people. They're a really cool bunch of people and I'm still in contact with them."

"That's good to hear, son."

Jeff wanted to place a hand on Gordon's shoulder, but he was on the wrong side of the table. He'd always worried about Gordon, who'd struggled with paying attention at school. Jeff had spent hours trying to convince him to study and do homework. If it didn't line up with his interests, Gordon never wanted to do it. The school teachers always compared him to his brothers, who had all been good studiers and never needed prompting, yet Gordon would always surprise them when given free rein on the topic. If he could make it about the sea, he would, and that was when Gordon would shine. The diorama of the coral reef and pollution levels had surprised his teachers, especially when Jeff had confirmed that Virgil had only helped by giving Gordon verbal painting suggestions. Knowing Gordon had still pursued WASP meant everything to Jeff. He'd only wanted the boys involved with International Rescue out of their own desire, and not pressured by a feeling of duty. Gordon had joined WASP, seen what it would have been like to work for the organisation and decided he wanted to be part of the family business. The man had still stayed true to his own hopes and dreams.

"Hey, Dad, I was…" Scott started before a beep came from John's wrist, who was sitting quietly on the bench in the shade next to their grandmother. The familiar voice of EOS filled the garden.

"Sorry to interrupt, John, but there is an emergency that requires International Rescue for the greatest chance of success."

"What's the situation?"

"A building site explosion has caused some steel framework to collapse against the skyscraper across the road. There is a high probability people are trapped and there is a risk of further explosions as the cause of the first is currently unknown. Further explosions could lead to more damage to the surrounding buildings. I believe Thunderbird One and Two are both required."

"FAB, EOS." John turned to the group, determination on his face. "Ready to go?"

"What are we waiting for?" Alan jumped to his feet, fist in the air. "Thunderbirds are go!"

The scraping of chair legs filled the air and Scott placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Duty calls, Dad. See you soon."

Jeff’s boys were running back into the facility with a wave goodbye over their shoulders. The pounding of their feet slipped away leaving the air still and the garden eerily quiet. Neither occupant spoke, waiting for the rumble that they knew would follow. It did just that. The roar of those great engines had faded in Jeff’s memory over the years, just as various other sounds of Earth had slipped from his mind. They were things he was experiencing again. This was Jeff’s chance to live again. Yet his boys couldn't stand down International Rescue when they visited as a family, so they always landed the craft in the field beside the facility. The downdrafts created by Thunderbird Two swept over the facility and his wind chimes clattered as the ship came into view. The quieter Thunderbird One was beside the green giant. Thunderbird Two picked up speed while Thunderbird One turned and sped away with a bang in the opposite direction. The green craft was soon out of sight, her roar fading away to nothing, and the slowing chimes and empty chairs the only evidence that they had ever been there. The rough scratching of a chair moving closer to him made him turn away from the sky before the space elevator came into view.

"They'll be back, don't you worry."

The smile on his mother's face was warm, familiar and filled him with comfort, even if it didn't chase away his worries. His boys were gone again, barely recovered from their last rescue. They had all been here. It still felt like such a rare treat, just as it had ever since Scott had left for the Air Force.

"It was never meant to be this way." Jeff sighed. His mother placed her hand on his and her cool blue eyes met his.

"This is your dream. Your boys are flying the Thunderbirds and saving people."

"Not like this though. I never planned for International Rescue to be needed as much as it is."

"Well, you couldn't have predicted just how successful and necessary International Rescue would be. They've risen to the challenge amazingly, Jeff."

"I know, Mum, but at what cost?"

Jeff ran his hand through his hair as he leant back and gazed at the sky. There was a small black dot that he believed was the elevator whisking John away. That's what the world did now. They called on International Rescue and snatched his boys away. Before, the rescues had been a few a month, leaving them plenty of time for relaxing and being together, especially when Alan and Gordon were home from school. He could see the exhaustion in his sons, the fact that there never seemed to be enough hours in the day for them to sleep. Alan seemed the least affected and appeared to have the most spare time, but Jeff had heard the yawns when they played Cavern Quest together.

"A cost they are willing to pay. Now, let's see if you've still got it in you to beat the master at Blackjack."

A bag of tokens landed on the table as his mother slid the discarded cards into a pile up and started to shuffle. Jeff smiled, though not entirely happy at the obvious distraction tactics, as he tipped the familiar coloured tokens on the table.

"If I remember correctly, you're in my debt at the moment, sure you want to deepen it further?"

There was a glint in his mother's eye as she met his own and her lip curled up.

"Just put the usual million on the table and we'll end the day with you owing me."

Jeff started stacking the counters into the required piles, happy to accept the challenge though he did wish his mother would let him listen in on the rescue. Hearing their voices would settle him a little, though Mum probably thought their daredevil antics would be too much for his old ticker. His heart worked fine. He'd just wanted his boys.

[autumnslance]

Febhyurary 28: Celebration

(In which I finally publish a long-held draft. Also on Ao3. More words and pictures below the cut!)

“There’s the hero of the hour,” Thancred said as he ambled over. The child Aeryn had been speaking with waved and dashed off, eager to share with his friends whatever secrets the Warrior of Darkness had divulged. Thancred watched him go, smiling, before turning back to Aeryn.

She shook her head. “I’ve had my fill of accolades tonight,” she said. “What about you? Not joining the festivities?” She gestured down to the Exedra, where many of the Crystarium’s residents still laughed, danced, and sang in thanksgiving.

Thancred sighed dramatically and shrugged. “I thought to indulge in a little revelry myself...until Urianger began to list all the names of my drunken conquests. I’ve been drinking water. Water.”

Aeryn laughed. “Ryne was within hearing, was she?”

“Our colleague seems to be of the opinion I must be respectable for her sake.”

“Also Urianger just enjoys tormenting you.”

“That too.”

Aeryn stretched. “Where is Ryne now?” She asked, noting the girl was not at her guardian’s heels.

“The twins have stolen her off once again,” he replied. “‘Tis a good night for them all to unwind as youths ought to.” He frowned a little. “Just not too much like youths are wont to…”

“They’ll be fine, Thancred.”

“Do you have any idea the stories Krile has of Alphinaud’s Studium days? The boy--”

“Reminds you of someone?” She teased, poking his shoulder.

“...Let’s not go there, shall we? Also I have just as many concerns about his sister, truth be told.”

“Ryne can handle either of them,” Aeryn assured him. She ignored the little voice in her head pointing out there was no longer a ghost following her young friends, enjoying their antics, returning to get her attention should anything happen. She stifled a yawn.

“Feeling alright?” He asked, the joking quickly dropping for genuine concern.

“I’m fine; just not up for reveling all night. I might just sneak off to my room.”

“No one would blame you, really, you’ve been through hell. We all have.”

“Want to walk with me?” She asked, before she could lose the nerve.

“You just want me to block unwanted well-wishers as you wend your way to your quarters,” he teased, as he fell into step alongside her.

“You’ve gotten very good at defending the rest of us from so many other hazards,” she said with a grin as they made their way through some of the lesser-trafficked areas of the Crystarium.

The entire city was in a grand mood, however, making even those less common routes busy as others had similar ideas to avoid the impromptu celebrations happening throughout the town. The sunless sea spun overhead, the everlasting light vanquished for good this time. The Exarch was safely returned to his people, and the Warriors of Darkness had triumphed over the Light and the dark figure who had orchestrated its blaze.

All it had cost was one dead man giving up his soul to save hers.

“Something wrong?” Thancred asked. Aeryn realized she had grown quiet, and must have looked a bit too pensive, thinking of Ardbert.

“Not really,” she said, honestly. “Just...I promised I’d explain in full, about the Blade of Light and how I was healed of the Lightwardens’ corruption. Tomorrow, when we’re all together again in the Ocular. I think I’m still attempting to process it all.”

He’s not really gone, she reminded herself. He’s always here, now. Emet-Selch would perhaps say as we ought to be--if it hadn’t led to his own…

“I think I just need a good distraction,” she said. “So much has happened.”

“Well, I’ve been known to be very distracting,” Thancred said with a grin. “A story, a song, an impromptu dance in the yard...Whatever you wish, my lady.”

There was a slight, hopeful thread woven into his lighthearted words. He meant to mask it, she knew, but it resonated with a stirring in her own heart.

Things had certainly changed since Nabaath Areng. There just also hadn’t been much time or opportunity to discuss those changes. At least, she had not been in a good place for...gods, it felt like ages, and yet no time at all, like a fading nightmare.

“I’ll have to think about it,” she replied glibly, as they crossed into the yards of the Quadrivium.

“Why think?” Thancred asked, as music played from the Wandering Stairs. He grasped her hand and pulled her into a spin. She allowed it, laughing as the cape on her jacket flared out behind her. They fell into the rhythm easily, aware eyes were on them and not caring as they danced across the walkway, others following along at various levels of skill but more than making up for it in enthusiasm.

She tried to remember the last time they had danced like this; carefree, at ease with the world and each other--they even laughed as they were bumped into by less surefooted dancers, their own feet stumbling until one of them rediscovered the rhythm and led the other back to synchronous motion.

The Liberation of Ala Mhigo, she recalled finally. It had then led to hiding away from the world and discussing what they meant to one another. So much kept happening that in some ways it still seemed as if they were in those early, tentative days of figuring out their relationship.

Most of a bell passed before they ended up spinning into the Pendants, still giggling over a ronso trying to cut into their dance and nearly sending Thancred off the edge of one of the wide stairs.

“Good thing you’re light on your feet,” Aeryn said as they passed by the front desk. The manager waved them through, other matters holding his attention.

“All part of the plan to see you safely to your quarters,” Thancred replied. “Never was one for such heavy armor and weapons as, say, Hoary Boulder uses, but being quick works.”

“Certainly does. And here we are.”

There was a pause; not entirely awkward, but the expectancy could quickly turn that way.

“Well,” he began. “I suppose--”

“Do you want to come in?” She blurted, feeling her face redden. His brows raised. “I just...after everything...I don’t….”

The room will be empty. I can’t talk to him about everything anymore, and it saddens me more than I thought, even if he isn’t really gone, I know, he’s still always here…

Thancred’s hand cupped her cheek, bringing her thoughts to a halt. “I very much do,” he murmured, the mirth faded. “If you wish for me to stay.”

She looked up to meet his golden-brown eyes. “Please stay,” she whispered.

“Very well,” he replied, closing the distance between them for a gentle, drawn-out kiss. He was warm, and solid, and smelled still of the Tempest’s brine and the desperate exertion of that last battle. They were both exhausted messes, but she suddenly did not feel like sleeping.

It was, after all, a night for celebration.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Present Mic x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: Verbal abuse

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

One of my readers made a tiktok of a scene from this chapter!

Chapter: 9/16 (all chapters)

BZZZZT

BZZZZZT

You scowled and reached under your pillow for your phone, wondering who on earth would call you at this time of day.

BZZZT

BZZZT

You patted the usual spot under your pillow, but your phone wasn’t there.

BZZZZZZZZZT

You sighed and sat up, rubbing your eyes and staring at your surroundings, realisation slowly dawning upon you.

This wasn’t your room.

It wasn’t your phone.

It definitely wasn’t your bed.

You reached under the covers, tracing your fingers over your exposed skin. You had nothing on but an oversized shirt and even that wasn’t yours.

In which case...

You glanced over at the man beside you, who was equally annoyed at being disturbed.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered, planting a kiss to your forehead before wriggling out of bed to hunt for his phone.

You wrapped yourself in the covers and watched him fumble in the dark, memories of the past few hours coming back to you all at once.

~~~~~

SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER

The weeks after the sports festival passed by in a blur. You had been right to spend so long adjusting and readjusting your schedule, for without such meticulous planning you would never have been able to keep up with queries from agencies and students alike.

You felt a little guilty for thinking it, but it was almost a relief once the internships actually began and you didn’t have to focus so much on open office hours. You had to keep some degree of flexibility for students struggling under the pressure of their new responsibilities, but very few of them came in. They were too busy giving it their all at their respective agencies.

You weren’t the only one to feel a weight off your shoulders. Midway through the week, Nemuri and Hizashi stepped into your office.

“(Name),” said Nemuri, “are you busy?”

At the time, you were browsing the web for techniques and activities to best support students with the pressures of exams. It was a relatively minor task in the grand scheme of things and you motioned for the pair of them to make themselves comfortable.

“How can I help?”

You had a perfectly good set of chairs, but they disregarded them, instead perching at opposite ends of your desk.

“Tonight, listener,” said Hizashi. “Clear your schedule! We’re going for beers!”

It had been weeks since any of you had visited the izakaya and you were more than a little excited at the prospect of finally being able to catch up with your colleagues in an informal setting. It seemed like all you had talked about lately was agency work, examinations and sports festival related matters. Unfortunately, that enthusiasm swiftly transformed into guilt.

Today was the day you had agreed to meet Akira for dinner and you were reluctant to rearrange it. He had already arranged the entire evening around your schedule, despite having work commitments of his own.

“Ahhh, sorry,” you said, “I have dinner plans tonight. Maybe some other time?”

You didn’t know it at the time, but Hizashi and Nemuri had asked only one person out for drinks before you and that person had also declined. Shouta’s arms and face were both finally healed and he was more than a little conscious of how long he had gone without training. He had plans to throw himself back into the action after school and, as such, had also declined.

Shouta had been telling the unabridged truth, but your revelation made them wonder if perhaps he hadn’t been completely honest after all. He wasn’t the sort of person to go out for dinner, but these were unprecedented times.

“Could it be,” said Nemuri, reaching for your hand, “our precious (Name) has a date?”

It wasn’t a date, but you blushed anyway. It was, after all, the same restaurant you had frequented as a couple.

“No, nothing like that,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed. “Truthfully, I bumped into my ex at the sports festival and he invited me out for a meal. It’s just a catchup, nothing else! A lot of things have changed since we broke up.”

“Is he involved in the hero industry? He must be if he was at the sports festival.”

“I guess you could say that...he’s one of the higher ups at Silver Edge.”

Silver Edge was well known to people with even the most basic level of knowledge of hero agencies and naturally Hizashi and Nemuri knew about it.

“Silver Edge??” Nemuri gripped the hand she had taken. “(Name), you have to tell me everything.”

“There’s not really much to say. We met at college and he took on a job there after we graduated. His uncle is on the board, so he had a lot of recommendations.”

“Maybe I’ve heard of him,” said Nemuri. “What’s his full name?”

“Masayama Akira.”

You hadn’t considered the possibility that your new colleagues might have known your ex in a professional capacity, so it came as something of a relief when Nemuri shook her head.

“Ahhh, it doesn’t ring a bell. Is he taking you somewhere fancy?”

“ Les Papilles ,” you said. “It was our favourite place before...y’know.”

“I’ve heard of that place,” said Hizashi. “They charge 2000 yen just for bread and olives.”

“Think of us while you’re helping yourself to gold leaf,” said Nemuri, cradling your hand and planting a kiss on the knuckles. “I want all of the details tomorrow.”

“Of course,” you said, suddenly wishing you hadn’t said anything.

Nemuri pulled out her phone the second they left your office, Hizashi following with his hands in his pockets. Against all of his better judgement, he had decided to continue looking for the woman from Ego . You getting involved with your ex should have been a good development, but it didn’t feel like one.

“Hello,” said Nemuri, pressing her phone to her ear. “Is this Les Papilles ?”

She pulled open the door to the faculty lounge and sauntered inside, seeming not to notice Hizashi’s gestures of confusion as she took a seat on the couch.

What are you doing? Hizashi mouthed, waving his hands to get her attention. She winked as she caught his eye, clearly unperturbed by his panic.

“Yes, hi,” she said. “I have a reservation tonight, under the name of Masayama Akira. I was wondering if you could confirm the time? Mhmm. Mhmm. Thank you so much! I’ll see you tonight.”

She hung up the phone with a satisfied smirk.

“What are you doing?”

Hizashi still had no idea that Nemuri’s objectives were so different to his own. His immediate assumption was that she meant to take the opportunity to make the night even more romantic and encourage the pair of you to reunite. He couldn’t have been any more wrong.

“ We ,” she said, “are going to Les Papilles .”

~~~~~~~

That night, you spent hours rifling through your wardrobe, trying on dresses and then discarding them, unsure of yourself in ways you never had been before. Akira had been your boyfriend for years, but you didn’t want to presume his intentions and risk sending out the wrong signals.

You managed to narrow your selection down to two: a modest dress you had picked out for a dinner party and the one you had worn to Ego .

As tempting as it was to wear the dress from that night, you decided against it. It was strange, but you felt strangely sentimental about it, as if you were betraying Shouta by wearing it around Akira. You knew it was irrational- that Shouta likely didn’t have much of an opinion either way- but even so, you set it back inside your wardrobe.

The group chat you shared with your friends had exploded at the news that you were going out to dinner. Almost everyone agreed that it was a terrible idea, that going out with Akira would reignite old feelings and undo everything you had achieved over the past few months.

You were confident, though, not only in Akira but yourself. If things got weird you would leave.

You took a deep breath and adjusted your clothes in the mirror, just as you had on the night you went to Ego . This time, though, you didn’t pull your dress down to tease your bra. Instead you pulled it down to cover your knees.

~~~~~~

Les Papilles was far, far out of Hizashi’s comfort zone. He shifted in his seat and watched the string quartet at the other side of the room, considering just how little he belonged there. Nemuri seemed not to notice, turning the pages of the menu and sounding out the specials in broken French.

They had dressed up for the evening in their Sunday best, Hizashi in a black dinner jacket and Nemuri in a burgundy dress. They didn’t look like themselves and he had mixed feelings about it. Ordinarily, he might have concocted a backstory for the pair of them, but his heart just wasn’t in it. Instead he stared at the menu in front of him as if it held the secrets to the universe.

He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to watch you eat dinner with another man.

Shouta had the woman from Ego , you had your ex. It felt like everyone had somebody except for him.

“Hizashiiiiiii,” said Nemuri, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Hizashi…”

He blinked as if coming out of a trance.

“S-sorry, what were you saying?”

“Over there,” she said, holding up the menu to hide where she indicated. “Be subtle.”

He turned to where she pointed, mouth going dry when he saw you, laughing and smiling as your ex pulled out a chair. As far as Hizashi knew, this was the first time he’d ever seen you dressed up, and he couldn’t look away.

He watched as you slid down into your seat and laughed off a joke from your server, crossing your legs and tucking your hair behind your ear.

Nemuri kicked him under the table and he jumped.

“Subtle,” she whispered.

“Right,” he said, sitting up straight. “Of course. Subtle. I can do subtle.”

~~~~~

It was strange to be back at Les Papilles . In a lot of respects, it felt the same as coming home from college at winter break. Everything about it was the same, from the positioning of the cutlery to the servers and orchestra, but you were completely different.

Even Akira was the same. He made the same jokes to the serving staff, ordered your meal from memory, waved to the cellist at the front of the band as he always did. You realised as one of the servers arrived with your favourite vintage that the last time you had been here was the day of the breakup, back when you believed your life was over.

It was strange to be there so soon, laughing and joking as if nothing had happened.

Conversation flowed easily; you caught up on the antics of old friends and his family, his successes at work, his current projects. You didn’t ask if he had started seeing someone else, nor did you offer up any information of your own. It felt inappropriate under the circumstances.

After you finished off your starter, you dismissed yourself to freshen up in the bathroom, fixing up your makeup and checking in on the group chat.

>>How is everything?

>>It’s fine...better than fine. Did you know his sister got married?

>>Has he said anything about getting back together?

>>Of course not! We’re just catching up like old friends! It’s nothing like that.

>>Sure...

~~~~~~

“Oh my god,” said Nemuri, setting aside her fork.

“What is it?”

Hizashi turned back to your table, where Akira was having a conversation with the violin players and table staff. He thought nothing of it until he spotted what Akira was holding: a small black box, which almost certainly contained a ring.

He turned back to Nemuri, looking almost as horrified as she did.

“Is he...surely he isn’t…”

Unfortunately, you returned to the table only a short time later, long before they could intervene.

~~~~~

Akira was taking a sip of wine when you returned and got up from his seat to help you into your chair.

“I already ordered mains,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” you said, making yourself comfortable. “Thank you.”

Akira sat down and cleared his throat, eyes darting from you to the band to the table.

“The truth is, (Name), I didn’t call you here just to catch up.”

“What do you mean?”

He reached for your hand across the table, just as he had when he broke up with you. It was a small gesture, but an unwelcome one, unearthing memories and emotions from that night that you had refused to acknowledge for well over half a year. You remembered how excited you had been back then, so close to the only serious goal you had ever had. All of your hard work and sacrifices would finally pay off and you could become the perfect wife and mother. You could raise your children with a smile on your face, safe in the knowledge that their childhood would be nothing like your own.

“I miss you,” he said, squeezing your hands. “I thought I knew what I wanted but...I didn’t. Back then, I just...I don’t know...I felt like I was stuck in a rut. I wanted something, but I didn’t know what it was.”

He let go of your hands with an expression of pity.

“I slept with another woman,” he said. “I don’t want to hide it from you. I’m sorry...I know it must come as a shock. Promise me you won’t get upset.”

“Akira,” you said, weighing up the pros and cons of being honest with him about your own bedroom antics.

“No, don’t say anything,” he said. “I know this must be hard for you.”

It wasn’t, but you decided to humour him.

“I slept with her once and all I could think about was you,” he said. “I missed the perfect lunches you’d pack for me, the way you’d greet me after work with a glass of wine and listen to what I had to say. I knew I could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge me.”

“Akira,” you said again, but he reached for your hands again.

“I understand now,” he said. “That other woman? She didn’t care about me as much as you did. I don’t think anyone else ever will...not even my mother. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I never wanted to break your heart…and now that I’m higher up in the business I understand where my priorities should be. My new coworkers are older. They’re settled down with families and always talking about their wives and children. Their wives are friends, their children play together...”  

He waved at the orchestra, who swiftly began to play a rendition of the track he decided was your song several years ago. You barely had a chance to register it before he got out of his chair and dropped down on one knee.

“(Name),” he said, holding up a small, black box. “Marry me.”

“Akira…”

“We can be together,” he said. “We can have everything we’ve always dreamed of.”

You stared at him, speechless. Not so long ago this moment was everything you had wanted. You had planned it in your head, had practised saying yes. Now that it was truly playing out in front of you, though, you realised you didn’t want it.

You weren’t sure when, exactly, but you had stopped thinking about weddings and babies. You had stopped thinking about him .

“I…”

“I know,” he said, lifting the ring from the box and towards your finger.

You glanced around the restaurant, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze. The other patrons had realised what was happening and turned to watch, no doubt waiting to clap.

“Akira, I don’t know what to say...I…”

You couldn’t turn him down without making him look like an idiot in front of this roomful of strangers. Why, oh why, had he decided to make this such a spectacle?

“Just say yes,” he said.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, thinking back to the old you, who would have by now.

“Can we please talk somewhere private?!”

You got to your feet before he could answer, snatching up your purse as you strolled towards the front doors. Akira gave everyone in the restaurant a thumbs up before following you out into the night air.

You hadn’t realised how stiflingly hot the restaurant had been and took a deep breath.

“I have to say,” said Akira as he closed the restaurant door behind him and followed you into a side street. “Whatever skit you’re pulling-“

“ You dumped me ,” you said, turning to face him. “ You told me I was the problem in our relationship. You don’t get to just change your mind about something like that and come back into my life like nothing happened.”

It was the first time you had ever raised your voice at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Listen,” he said, “if this is about that other girl…”

“It’s not,” you said. “I slept with someone else too. Twice, actually.”

He took your hands in his, clasping them against his chest.

“Then you understand,” he said. “All of the time I was with her, all I thought about-”

“When I was with him I didn’t think of you at all.”

You hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but nothing else seemed to be getting through to him.

“You’re confused,” he said. “I get it. All of this stuff with UA...it’s just a phase. You’ll move on from it one day.”

“Maybe so...but even then I wouldn’t want to marry you.”

Akira didn’t say anything for several minutes and when he did it was to laugh out loud.

“You’re joking, right? This is a joke.”

“It’s not a joke. I’m sorry, but-”

He snatched his hands away from yours and gripped onto your shoulders.

“Who else is going to want you?”

“I...wh-”

“Look at you,” said Akira, looking you up and down. “You aren’t all that pretty, y’know. You should be grateful someone like me would even look at you, let alone ask you to marry them.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, keeping your composure, “but...I’ve moved on. You should too.”

He shook his head with a tsk, pushing you away with such force that your back slammed against the wall. He took the ring out of his pocket and threw it down onto the floor before going back inside the restaurant. The ring clattered as it hit the ground and you watched, crushing your hands to your face to try and stifle your tears.

All you could think about was the cooking classes you had taken; your instructor’s explanation about adding and subtracting ingredients. It was always possible to add extra later, but adding too much was the point of no return. You had experienced too much now; had seen your life from an outsider’s perspective and didn’t want to return to it. You no longer placed your value in tidy stitches and perfect pastries.

Even so, you considered, kneeling down to pick up the ring from the floor, you were as far from habanero as you were vanilla.

You had no idea who you were anymore.

~~~~~~~

In your absence the restaurant had fallen silent. The band had stopped playing as the door closed behind you both, the serving staff standing a little further back from the table with a cake in their arms, awkwardly exchanging glances with one another. The cake was quite clearly custom made, with bright red icing on the top that read “Congratulations Mrs. Masayama”.

Hizashi chewed his bottom lip, Nemuri cradled her wine glass. They didn’t need to speak to know what the other was thinking. They had seen the expression of horror on your face and the oblivious one on Akira’s. They knew it wasn’t going to end well.

When Akira finally returned, he was alone. He shook his head at the orchestra and serving staff, who swiftly carried on with their duties as if nothing had happened, smuggling the cake back into the kitchen area and resuming their ordinary track list.

Hizashi watched as Akira kicked at his seat before sitting down and turned to Nemuri, who gave him a nod. If he was kicking at chairs, they worried what he might have done to you.

Hizashi got to his feet and left the restaurant, shoving open the front door and rushing out onto the street. You weren’t directly outside and he headed off to check the side streets, heart shattering into pieces when he finally found you.

He could think of little else but the first time he saw you when you came to UA. The original guidance counsellor had been there for years, including when many of the faculty members studied there themselves. She had candies and a pat on the head for just about anyone and losing her was like losing a grandmother. That’s not to say they weren’t excited about the replacement, though.

He and Nemuri had spent hours hypothesising not only what the new person would be like, but the kind of person they hoped they would be. They concluded that they both wanted it to be a cute girl, the type of person they could take to the izakaya and influence in all of the wrong ways. Having you join the staff was like winning the lottery.

He and Nemuri had high fived the first time they saw you, opening the staff room door by a sliver and watching as Nezu took you on a tour. He would never forget his initial impression; that you were pretty and sweet and reminded him of a kitten. His opinions hadn’t changed even now that he knew you better. You held no ill will towards anyone, bent over backwards to help out students and colleagues alike, forgave just about anyone who wronged you even slightly.

Seeing you in tears hit him hard, simply because it was you.

He walked over, stomach churning at the prospect of what might have been said or done to upset you so much.

“Hey, little listener,” he said softly and you frantically rubbed the tears from your eyes.

“S-sorry,” you stammered, fumbling with your purse, “I’ll be right there…”

“Little listener,” he said again, reaching for your shoulders. “Look at me.”

You looked up at him and squinted, recognition slowly sinking in. Very few people recognised him outside of his hero costume and you were no exception to the rule.

“Hizashi? Wh...what are you doing here?”

You blushed a bright red and immediately started rubbing the tears away even harder.

“Saving the day,” he said with a smile.

“Sorry,” you said, though your eyes didn’t meet his. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Hizashi sighed and touched his fingers to your chin, lifting your face towards his. You didn’t have any visible swelling or other marks on your skin that pointed towards a physical attack.

“Don’t apologise,” he said. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you said, tears welling in your eyes and voice beginning to break, “I’m fine. I’m completely fine.”

You still whispered that you were fine as he lowered his hand from your face, as you buried your face in your hands and began to sob. You still tried to murmur them when you choked with tears and could manage little more than single syllables.

Hizashi stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around you, stroking your hair as you buried your face in his chest and began to wail.

“That’s it,” he said, stroking your hair, “I got you. Just let it out, little listener.”

He reached into his jacket pocket for his phone and typed out a message to Nemuri.

>>I’ve got (Name). You handle him.

>>  ( ˘ ³˘)♥

~~~~~

Nemuri set down her phone with a grin and picked up her purse, making sure to swing her hips far more than was necessary as she approached Akira’s table. The servers, unsure what to do, had brought your main meals to the table, leaving Akira to glare at them in silence.

She slipped down into your chair, taking care to tease her low neckline.

Akira looked up at her and she picked up your abandoned fork, helping herself to a carrot from your plate. She made sure to run her tongue over it, licking off the honey glaze.

“Can I join you?”

~~~~~

You weren’t sure how long you sobbed into Hizashi’s chest, only that you couldn’t stop. You forgot where you were, so overwhelmed by misery and his warm body that the world seemed to stop.

When the tears dried and you came back to earth, you felt more than a little embarrassed. You’d smudged makeup and snot all over his shirt and likely made a scene in the process.

“Oh my god,” you said, stepping back and rubbing your eyes. “I’m so sorry, look at the mess i’ve made…”

Hizashi looked down at his shirt and shrugged.

“What, this? Please. I’m a teacher, a celebrity, a hero and a catch. Believe me, I’ve had worse.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that and he stroked his fingers across your cheeks.

“Ahhh, there it is,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Much better.”

“I don’t understand...what are you doing here? I thought you and Nemuri were going to the izakaya.”

“Uhhhhh, well,” Hizashi scratched his chin, “the thing is…you kinda put us in the mood for French food…”

Under ordinary circumstances, you would have been mortified at the realisation that they might have seen everything. Right then, though, you were exhausted and numb.

“Ahh, whatever, it doesn’t matter,” you said, reaching into your purse for your train card. “It’s been a long night...I should get going.”

“What are you talking about, cute listener? The night’s just beginning! Didn’t you know? This is the best time to view the city!”

He was trying to cheer you up, but you knew that not only was your makeup ruined, but you could never show your face in Les Papilles again.

“I can’t go anywhere looking like this,” you said. “I look like...like…”

Hizashi shook his head and reached into his pocket. He rummaged for a couple of seconds before grinning and pulling out a set of star shaped sunglasses.

“Now look at that,” he said, slotting them onto your face, “you’ve got stars in your eyes.”

It was such a corny line that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you just... carry spare sets of sunglasses everywhere?”

He reached into his other pocket by way of an answer, pulling out a set shaped like flowers, then another shaped like hearts.

“You never know what might happen,” he said. “Sometimes the mood calls for something a little different.”

“What’s the mood today?”

He lifted up both pairs, weighing up the pros and cons of each before switching his plain glasses for the heart ones.

“Now, then,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and putting it on you. “Have you ever been in a movie?”

“Have I what ?”

It was an absurd question, but he looked as dead serious as anyone could in novelty sunglasses.

“Pick a genre,” he said, reaching for his phone. “You’re the heroine now. What movie are we in?”

You considered it, thinking about the past year.

You didn’t know if you were vanilla or habanero or anything in between, but you knew what you’d like to be given the choice.

“It’s a romance,” you said, blushing scarlet, “a sickly sweet, cliched romance, where everyone falls in love with everyone else and no one’s alone at the end.”

Hizashi nodded, giving you sounds of approval.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he said, fastening earphones to his phone and slipping it into the inside pocket of the jacket he had put on you. “Here…”

He held out the earphones and you picked them up, putting one in your ear and holding out the other, meaning to share. Hizashi shook his head.

“No, no,” he said. “It’s your soundtrack, not mine!”

You put the other one in and listened to the music he had loaded, taking in the wistful melody as he reached a hand for yours. You reached to take it and followed him along the street, gazing up at the street lamps and signs overhead.

You knew these streets better than most. Akira lived nearby and between going to his place and visiting Les Papilles , you had done a lot of walking here. Perhaps it was the sunglasses, the music or the fact that you were holding onto Hizashi’s hand, but it didn’t look the same. You spotted details you had never noticed before, like the dancing wisterias overhead and the glow of fairy lights in the windows. You spotted chalk drawings on the ground, smiling strangers who passed you with cups of coffee only to disappear from your life moments later.

You wondered how long you had walked these streets without really looking at them; how many years you had spent looking at your feet instead of the sky.

You didn’t let go of Hizashi’s hand as you got onto the train, peering out of the windows at every station you passed. You admired every piece of graffiti, the careful hand movements of the musician busking at the station entrance. You couldn’t hear him over the music playing through Hizashi’s earphones, so pretended he was the one playing.

You got off at a station you’d never been to before, listening to the gentle swell of the music as you climbed the stairs out onto the main square. Food vendors lined the streets and the scent of fried foods filled the air. Hizashi guided you along the street, pointing out a carousel. In the daytime it would have looked mundane, but at night it was beautiful, illuminating the night with a golden glow.

Hizashi guided you towards it and slipped the owner a couple of notes, motioning for you to choose a horse the moment he let you pass through the rope barrier. You picked one out and climbed up into the saddle, waving Hizashi over to sit behind you. He climbed up into the saddle and wrapped an arm around your waist, using the other to hold onto the rail.

You watched your surroundings as the ride began to move and your shadows hit the ground.

You had lived in this city for years and walked the earth for thirty. You had never known the city could look like this, that it could fill your heart with warmth and love until it shone as brightly as the carousel. You wanted to stay there forever and never come down, enchanted by the world and its infinite details.

~~~~

You hadn’t gotten around to eating dinner and spent more money than you normally would on warm doughnuts, corn dogs and yakisoba. The pair of you sat down at the end of the pier, taking off your shoes and dangling your feet down towards the sea.

By then, you had turned off the music and handed Hizashi his jacket back, relishing the sound of the waves hitting the shoreline and soft sea breeze through your hair.

“So,” said Hizashi, taking a bite of one of the doughnuts, “what’s the story with your ex?”

“There’s not really much of one,” you shrugged. “We dated at college.”

“And?”

“And...one day he took me out to dinner and said he wanted to play the field, live a little more, that sort of thing. He didn’t want to commit to a relationship, he wanted to get out there and have fun,” you said, poking at your noodles. “I thought it was the end...but...actually...I think I agree with him now. I’d spent so long in a relationship that I forgot who I was without it.”

“And are you any closer? To figuring out who you are?”

“No,” you said, sighing deeply. “I thought I was, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Well,” said Hizashi, dusting off his hands. “If this is you at 25%, I can’t wait to see what you’re like at full power.”

You turned to Hizashi, blushing at the way he had turned to look at you.

“I...I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“Then don’t say anything.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say that, of all people.��

“Hey!”

You giggled at his outburst, thinking back to Shouta’s words at your apartment.

Purple socks, studded leather, zombie movies, horror games, candles that smell like desserts, cheap sunglasses, expensive shampoo, eighties rock and dubstep mashups, light beer…

All of the things Hizashi liked.

Shouta had taken a step back and said he was rooting for you. Akira was no longer in your life. You took a deep breath and swung your legs to hide your nerves.

“Hizashi,” you said, somehow managing to blush an even darker shade of red.

“Hmmm?”

“Did you...uh...that is. Would you like to…”

You hadn’t propositioned anyone since Shouta and even then he had filled in the blanks. You prayed Hizashi was just as good at taking a hint.

“...wouldyouliketogosomewheremoreprivate?”

You didn’t dare look at him. You wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

“(Name),” he said at last, “are you asking what I think you are?”

“Probably,” you squeaked. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I-you must think I’m...”

He cupped your face in his hand, though, grinning like a cheshire cat.

“You worry too much,” he whispered. “Just let it happen.”

“Okay,” you said, heart fluttering as he stroked his fingers across your jawline and combed his fingers through your hair, touching his lips to yours with a softness you hadn’t expected from him.

One kiss turned into two, two turned into three and before you knew it you were gasping into his open mouth while he stroked his fingers from your ribs to your hip. You were grateful for the sunglasses he had given you; you dreaded to think how dazed you looked. You felt as if you were floating, head and shoulders above the clouds.

Hizashi broke the kiss before you did and got to his feet.

“Are you ready,” he asked, putting one hand on his hip and quite deliberately guiding your line of sight to his crotch, “for this jelly ?”

It was such an absurd thing to say that you burst out laughing.

This, this right here was what you expected from him.

~~~~~~~~

You’d been to Hizashi’s apartment before during the recording of Support Mic . Every time you went there, you made the same observation: that its walls were plain and its furniture simple, completely at odds with the man who lived there.

“You wanna see something cool?” he asked as he closed the front door.

“Okay.”

He reached out to flip a light switch and at first you believed he was going to leave you both in the dark. You wondered what was cool about that, only for your jaw to drop a moment later.

It was a light switch, but not in the conventional sense.

Hizashi, as it turned out, had blacklights installed in his home and every corner of every wall shone with otherwise invisible colours. Some areas had portraits and galaxies painted on them, others had patterns and handprints.

“W...wow,” you said, staring up at a ghostly milky way as Hizashi brushed your hair to one side and planted a kiss on the back of your neck.

Your dress hit the ground with a whisper, his belt fell at your feet. You had nothing on but your underwear by the time you reached the bedroom and stared at the sapphire hue of your skin. Somehow, even your own body felt foreign.

You glanced over at Hizashi, at the musical notes tattooed on the left side of his ribcage and stud through his right nipple, really seeing him for the first time. The Hizashi you had known before this was goofy and sweet. This one was a piece of art on par with the galaxies and flowers on his walls. You didn’t know why it surprised you to learn he too had layers of complexity.

He noticed you staring at him and almost looked bashful, though it lasted only a fraction of a second. He dropped to his knees and hooked his fingers around the band of your underwear, shimmying them down to your ankles and planting a kiss on the soft flesh below your belly button. You sighed into it, stomach fluttering, and kicked them off entirely.

“Now then,” he said, getting to his feet and planting a hand on the small of your back to draw you closer, “check you out, little listener! You look good enough to eat.”

Heat rose in your cheeks and you giggled, accepting the kisses he peppered across them. He kissed your lips and squeezed your butt, using your gasp to explore your mouth with his tongue.

His bedsheets were soft against your skin - almost as soft as his kisses. You crushed your lips against his without any kind of hesitation, trembling as he stroked a hand over your collarbones, breasts and then stomach before slipping a finger between your folds. You gasped as his fingertip grazed your clit and he chuckled, propping himself up on his other elbow and admiring the view as he traced his finger around the outside of your wetness.

“Look at that,” he said, sounding genuinely impressed, “you’re so wet already!”

He pulled his hand away from your slick and held it up so you could see, rubbing his finger and thumb together to show the wetness you’d left on them. You fell silent, feeling oddly bashful as he sucked on the finger he’d used to touch you.

You had no clue how you were going to look him in the face at work after this, but his touches felt so good that you didn’t care. You tasted yourself on his lips when he kissed you, shivered as he lifted your leg up onto his waist and shoved his hand between your thighs. He scissored his fingers inside of you and rubbed his thumb over your clit, laughing whenever a particular touch made you moan and buck your hips against his hand.

“Let me hear you,” he said, peppering your throat with kisses and drawing moans from your lips, relishing every vibration.

He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked them before lifting himself up onto all fours, rolling you onto your back in the process. You stared up at him, heart racing, taking in the silvery hue his hair had taken in the dark. He trailed messy kisses from your lips to your collarbone, crawling down the bed as his kisses travelled south. You closed your eyes the second his tongue crossed your nipple and let out a sigh of pleasure, which only seemed to spur him on.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, settling on his stomach and spreading your legs wide. “Sing for me.”

This was the first time anyone had gone down on you. You had no point of reference, no idea what to expect. You gasped at the strange, wet feeling, reaching down to stroke his hair as if by instinct. Every touch of his tongue sent your insides to jelly and you bit down on your fingers to stifle your gasps.

“No, no, no,” he said, “I want to hear you.”

He held your hips down and sucked at your clit so forcefully that you lost all coherent thought. It still felt wet, but the strangeness had gone, making room for a growing tightness deep inside of you. You wanted nothing more than to break.

He eased up, swirling the tip of his tongue against your clit so gently that you caught yourself bucking your hips against his mouth and arching your back from the bed, trying and failing to meet him halfway.

“Don’t stop,” you whined, reaching for his hair. “Please, please don’t stop.”

You were so close to unravelling and it felt like a matter of life or death.

You had no point of reference and no way of knowing how good Hizashi actually was at oral. All you knew was that his touches left your arms and legs numb. You finally understood why he had painted so many of his ceilings to look like outer space. The more he touched you, the more it felt like you were floating, watching your own body contort with pleasure from a distance.

He knew the exact moment you teetered on the brink and chose that one to loosen his grip on you and plant a kiss on your thigh. The anticipation faded and you could have cried.

“Hizashiiii…”

“No, no, no, not yet,” he said, sitting up onto his knees and wagging his finger. “I want to make you scream.”

You’d never screamed in bed before and just the thought left you feeling a mixture of embarrassed and morbidly curious. Exactly how good would you have to feel to scream? How dirty could Hizashi get?

You smiled, cheeks flushed.

“I’d love to see you try.”

“Those are famous last words, (Name).”

“At least I’ll go with a smile on my face.”

Hizashi grinned and adjusted his position, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his waist, spreading you wide and slipping a finger in you, snickering as your toes began to curl. It didn’t take long to build you up again this time and you grabbed the bedsheets, bracing yourself for a peak that never came. Hizashi let you get close enough to taste freefall, only to drag you back to earth.

He rolled across the bed and fumbled in his bedside drawer, pulling out a condom and something else that you didn’t recognise in the half light.

“Say, (Name), do you wanna see something... really cool?”

“Go ahead.”

He thrust the condom towards you, motioning for you to take it. You did, turning it over in your fingers and squinting at the print.

“Are these…”

“Present Mic condoms! Designed, approved and beta tested by yours truly! Guaranteed to make your partner siiiiiiiiiiing.”

You knew that there was a lot of Present Mic merchandise. You’d seen shirts, alarm clocks, pyjamas and more and that was without deliberately seeking them out. There was almost certainly more on the internet, though it had never occurred to you that condoms would be one of them.

“I,” you said, “I don’t know what to say.”

You passed it back to him, watching as he wriggled out of his underwear. You licked your lips at the sight of his dick, unable to stop yourself. Where Shouta’s dick was wide, Hizashi’s was long and you didn’t know what to say of the fact that you had seen enough of your colleagues naked that you were able to make such a comparison.

He dragged the tie from his hair and wrapped it around his wrist, flicking his hair over one shoulder with a wink.

“You like what you see?”

Yes.

Yes, you did.

Between the blacklight, his naked body and long, golden hair, he looked like a painting.

“Come here,” you said, waving him over.

He stayed there, though, pouting.

“But you haven’t seen the cool part yet,” he said.

“You mean...there’s more?”

What else had he trademarked? Was he about to show you Present Mic lube?

He opened the condom wrapper, though, and you soon had your answer. It wasn’t any ordinary condom and, retrospectively, you regretted not realising it earlier.

Present Mic’s condoms were glow in the dark and shone green under the blacklight.

“It’s...it’s a glow stick,” you gasped, watching as he pulled it on. “Oh my god.”

“It’s awesome, right! Not sure how you’d wave them at a concert, though…Not without getting arrested, anyway...”

He said it so sincerely that you couldn't help but laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your giggles.

“You think that’s funny, eh?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, laughing harder.

“Hon, what are you apologising for? I could watch this all day.”

You looked up at him, taking in the tender expression on his face that was completely out of place in your current surroundings. You remembered the way he had cradled you in the alley, just as gentle then as he was now.

You would almost certainly feel embarrassed in the morning, but you knew that none of this was a mistake.

He leaned over you, kissing your nose as he reached out to the mystery item he’d put on the bedside table. You inhaled sharply when you realised it was a vibrator wand, something you had never seen in person. It looked like something from a science fiction movie.

“You okay, doll?”

“Are they...always that big?”

Hizashi sat up onto his knees and set the vibrator aside for the time being.

“Nope, but this one is especially powerful! I accept only the best, ya dig?”

You glanced from the vibrator to him, trembling from the anticipation. You had followed Rei and the others into sex stores, though stared at your shoes the entire time, too ashamed to look, much less join in their conversations. They bought you a bullet vibrator for your birthday once, just to see the horrified expression on your face.

Tonight you were well and truly diving in head first.

“Put your hands up,” said Hizashi, lifting your leg over his shoulder. You obeyed, slowly raising your arms above your head and onto the pillows. He licked his finger and slipped it between your folds and back inside you, stretching you out a little more before pulling it out and inching his dick into the gap. You gasped, relishing both the feeling of being stretched to accommodate him and the way he closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure.

“What the hell, (Name),” he whined, “you feel so good.”

“S-so do you,” you said, heat rising in your cheeks.

Hizashi bumped his hips against yours, both of you gasping at the sensation.

“How’s that?”

“Do it again.”

He obeyed, squeezing onto your thigh as he thrust back into you. You reached down a hand, meaning to stroke your clit, but he clapped you away.

“No, no, no, put your hands up,” he said and you rested them back onto the pillows. “The party’s not over yet.”

He took up a slow pace initially, changing it up whenever you got remotely close to coming. He’d go faster only to stop the moment you begged him to keep going and keep fucking you that way. He’d go slow and deep, brushing the soft spot inside of you, only to pull out once your moans got more frantic. You knew from the satisfied look on his face that he was doing it on purpose.

“S...stop teasing me like this,” you said, “I’m going to…”

Truthfully, you had no idea what would happen when you came. You’d never been teased this much before. Hizashi laughed, though, perfectly dodging the pillow you launched at his head.

“Are you suuuure? I said I’d get you to scream, remember? Do you think you can handle it?”

“Yes! Yes I can handle it!”

Hizashi smirked and fell still, reaching for the vibrator next to him. He spat on his fingers and rubbed them across your clit before flicking the on switch. You had never heard a vibrator so loud, but you were so focused on the tension inside of you that you didn’t care. Hizashi touched it to your clit and held it there, sending you over the edge in a matter of seconds. You gasped in delight, body twitching and full of warmth. Hizashi started to thrust, moaning at the feel of you tightening around his cock. He held the vibrator in place and you squirmed, tension building inside of you again, just as unbearably tight as before. It was overwhelming and you cried out at the feel of his rapid fire thrusts and hum of the vibrator, overstimulated to the point of no return.

He turned up the vibrator and you screamed in delight, losing all self consciousness as your body quaked.

He kept going, over and over, dragging orgasms from you until you lost track of the peaks. They started to bleed into one another, leaving you flustered and desperate. He went deeper and harder, praising you for how loud you were getting.

“Are you going to give me one more,” he said, switching off the wand. “One more, I know you can do it.”

“Mhmm,” you whined, watching as he set aside the vibrator and slipped himself out of you. “Hizashi…don’t stop…”

He lifted both of your legs and motioned for you to hold them open, planting a kiss on your slick folds before pushing himself back inside of you. You bit your bottom lip at the change in angle, his hips crashing into yours so deeply that you felt the bed rocking beneath you.

“Sssshit,” said Hizashi, “I’m going to come.”

“Me too,” you said, digging your nails into your thighs to keep them spread, “I’m going to…hnn!”

You arched your back as you came, the added twitching sending Hizashi over the edge with you. You watched in curiosity, wondering what would happen if he cried out, only for him to lean over and crush your lips with his own, moaning into your open mouth as he continued to thrust.

“You ready for the money shot?”

You nodded, placing a hand on the small of his back and feeling him thrust into you.

You watched as he sat up to straddle you, dragging off the neon condom and frantically pumping at his dick. He bit down on his own fingers as he came across your belly, covering your skin in a layer of hot cum, which glowed luridly under the light.

You reached out to touch it with trembling fingers as Hizashi got up off the bed to get rid of the condom, admiring the way it shone against your skin in the same way as the paint on his bedroom ceiling.

Before this, you felt your body had been as barren and plain as the white walls of his apartment. Perhaps it was the happy hormones flooding your body, but you felt just as transformed and ready to confront just about anything.

“You okay, little listener?”

Hizashi came back towards the bed, taking a seat beside you and combing your hair off your sweaty forehead. Both of you laughed when all you could muster was a shaky thumbs up.

“Well, lucky for you, the party isn’t over,” he said with a wink. “I am going to run you the warmest, bubbliest bath you’ve ever had in your life...if you’re lucky, I might even join you!”

~~~~~

PRESENT

“I got it, I got it,” said Hizashi, reaching up to answer his phone. “Hello? Hello…? Ah...Eraser, what’s…wait. Slow down. What do you mean?”

Something about his tone made you anxious and you pushed back the covers as he sank down onto the edge of the bed. You could hear Shouta’s voice, though not what he was saying.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

He hung up the phone and set it down on his bedside drawer, breathing a heavy sigh.

“That sounded serious. Is everything okay?”

“We have to go to UA,” he said, getting up to pick up the TV remote.

“Hizashi it’s...it’s three in the morning, what-”

You fell silent the moment he switched it on, taking in the stony faced news broadcaster and burning buildings, the video footage of Midoriya at the feet of the hero killer, Stain.

“Oh my god,” you said, hugging yourself.

“Yeah,” sighed Hizashi. “Guess there’s not gonna be a round two.”

[atsunflower]

Rated: SFW

Author notes: *sigh* for the third time the damned app ate up the tags. This one took me too long and I'm excited for write about my man suna again. This is also pretty different from what I'm used to write, but why not? Please enjoy your reading.

Warnings: cursing, substance usage/mentions, break-ups and me trynna be funny.

I – Cancel me.

Previous || Next

He looked at them with expectation as the beats smoothly faded, indicating the song's ending. 

If he were to be honest, the pair before him was a pain in the ass, but their opinion was that important because, when it came to music, they were the best at it. He felt no shame nor jealousy in admitting it.

"Dunno, the hook sounds like a Vice headline ta me." The bleach-haired male said, hearring the song's outro blaring through the studio speakers.

"Isn't it a Kid Milli reference, tho?" The other asked while munching a chip. He frowned at them, not understanding their point.

"Whatever. You two are no help anyways." Hearring their bullshit, the brunette already regretted this collab. He paused the queued song, turning to the other two with a blank stare.

The twins before him snickered, knowing they successfully hit a nerve. They couldn't help it, provoking Suna was one of their favorite hobbies.

"The song is good, but I gotta tell ya this butt hurt phase of yers is pretty lame." The faux-blond opened his mouth again, spinning around the studio with the desk chair. 

"Fuck you, Atsumu" He snapped, almost giving in to the desire of decking them both on the face.

"Tsumu's right, ya Lil Peep wannabe. Can't believe this break up ended up that bad." Osamu said in mockery, throwing the empty Lay's wrapper at him. He scoffed, disposing the wrapper on the bin before getting back at the screen to look at the FL studio interface.

"It's not that I have a broken heart. I just wanna know what's wrong with my life" He shrugged, blindly tacting over the desk in search of his Juul.

"Yeah Samu, he's just grieving over those fancy ass Dior Jordans. Sunarin is incapable of mundane things like a broken heart." His blond friend was partially right.

Suna Rintaro was many things: alt model, music producer, cloud artist and a decent volleyball player that almost went pro. But if there was something he could never be, it was a lucky man on love matters.

With his fair share of failed relationships, the artist could never pinpoint when things went wrong. It would always be the same: he would meet a girl, they would have a good time and then, the chick would turn out demanding as fuck.

In the end, every single one of them would slap him across the face and leave his life banging the front door shut like crazy — last week, it was Mika who broke things off, but not before setting his limited edition pair of jordans on fire. He would never get over those sneakers.

"Good for him, those kicks were kinda ugly." Osamu said in a bored manner. Suna felt his soul leaving his body.

"The hell, Osamu?" He was ready to fight, deeply offended by the attack at his taste in fashion.

"Yo, you two." Atsumu butted in, checking something on his phone "Y'all are drifting away from our problem."

"That is?" The other brother asked.

"Cheer up Sunarin before he fucks up with the Album." If Suna had the energy, he would kick both Miyas out of his studio "And I gotta the perfect thing. Let's hang out at Akagi's tonight, he just invited us." The already distressed musician felt the soul leaving his body for the second time that afternoon. He was sure both twins wished his death.

"Not a fucking chance. Last time I went there I almost died because of that weird stuff we smoked." 

"Aw, Sunarin, Kita'll be there too." The faux-blonde tried to persuade. The mention of their older, responsible and straight edge friend made Suna look at them with interest. But he needed more, though. Based on the last experience, he didn't have the will to risk his life going to Akagi's house once again. A shiver descended his spine as the male recalled how much he threw up that night.

"Suna, man, I gotta agree with Tsumu. Yer feelings are showing in your music." Osamu said as if he was some kind of genius.

"Isn't art about it, tho?" He deadpanned "Expressing feelings and shit?" He asked, staring them dead in the eye. The males before him shivered because of its intensity. Suna snickered.

"Man says art, but most of his songs are about the Nikes on his feet and the Tesla in his garage." Atsumu mocked "What the fuck?" The blonde barely dodged the moleskine thrown at him.

"Don't chew on me when you do the same, asshat. This is called character development." As unnerving the twins were, he felt a whole lot better in their company "Just lemme produce my sad stuff in peace."

"Cut us some slack, ya dumbfuck. We're just worried about ya." Osamu protested " 'Sides, no wonder no girl sticks by yer side. You know what the chicks find sexy? Seizing the means of production, not yer dumb car."

"You two are so la—" The musician was interrupted mid sentence, startled by the blond figure clutching his phone with enthusiasm.

"Oi Samu," Atsumu's loud voice startled the other two, as he excitedly fisted the air.

"What the fuck?" Suna asked, dropping the Juul on the floor.

"She'll be there tonight." The blond said, looking at his brother with a new wave of joy.

"The fuck? She who?" The brunette frowned.

"Ya gotta go and find out, man." The gray haired twin said with a knowing smile, matching his brother's excitement.

The night out felt somewhat draining. The booze, the music and the company were great, but his lack of energy was a mood killer.

Cheer me up my ass, Suna cursed internally as he observed everyone getting wasted all over the place. He grimaced at the sight, realizing the meeting with the twins was enough social interaction for the day.

He didn't know what's gotten into him. The male knew it wasn't necessarily caused by the break up, but he couldn't help the feeling down.

Right now, life just felt lowkey suffocating. 

Being a public figure meant being under the spotlights the most of time.

People talked.

People assumed.

Media was all over him, ready to catch a scandall.

And of fucking course his name was on gossip headlines. It even occupied a spot on twitter trending topics for a day or so.

"Fuck me." He said before the lukewarm beer went down his throat.

"Sunarin!" He heard Atsumu shouting from his right "I want you to meet someone!" And only now he noticed the blond had his left arm over a girl's shoulders.

Oh, that's the one they were talking about, maybe? the brunette realized. What's the hype, tho? He asked himself, eyeing your figure.

"[Name], this is Suna. Sunarin, this is [Name], best girl ever and the mastermind behind the visuals of mine and Samu's last album" The bleach-haired male said with a proud smirk, ruffling your hair. You were obviously shy.

How cute, the brunette thought.

"Dumbass, don't embarrass me in front of others!" You nudged the Miya with your elbow "Nice to meet you, I saw your name on TMZ last week—" You said beaming and he grunted.

I take it back. Not cute at all, the man internally screamed, not ready to talk about the recent events. He didn't even want to listen to the rest of your speech, your cheery voice went through his ears in a white noise.

"And this makes me really excited for your album. The interview about the collab with dumb and dumber was lit." You continued, the words were genuine and you seemed really interested "And I also relate on a spiritual level because I know working with them is hell."

Oh, she's talking about the album. He realized in relief.

"Yo, I heard good things about you too. The design of their album was hella sick, even though they two suck ass." Suna snickered when he heard Atsumu protesting. You only left out a giggle, joining him on the teasing.

The blond kept ranting about how bad of friends the two of you were.

"I didn't introduce y'all ta gang up on me. Bye, I'm finding another company. Ya two suck." The blonde Miya said, leaving only you and Suna in the sofa area.

"Uh, so…" He drifted off, trying to start some small talk

"Yeah..." You both giggled at the awkwardness "Not enjoying the night?"

"Too much happening right now. Lots of people talking shit 'bout me." He sipped the beer, grimacing at the stale taste of the drink "Hope they cancel me already. So all this shit dies down." Suna looked away, suddenly shy for opening up to a stranger.

"You're a famous guy and the break-up wasn't that scandalous. It'll be over eventually, just beware the sneaker cult." Your amusement was comfort enough. You didn't make intrusive questions about the events and merely joked it off. He felt so worn out by the situation but, at least, your presence wasn't overbearring.

"How is it everyone knows about the jordans?" You shrugged it off, laughing at the distressed face he mocked. Sighing in relief, Suna couldn't deny how refreshing your presence was. Not to be a jerk, but usually, the girls either were all over him or judged every single move he made. You were just that easygoing.

"Well, I don't think you came here to sulk on the sofa all night long. Why don't we join them by the pool and down some shots?" You hopped off of your seat, pointing to the glass doors. All the boys were waving at you two and suddenly, Suna felt a wave of joy run down his body.

Atsumu was right. Best girl ever.

At some point of the night, everything became about you.

All he could hear was the sound of your voice and all the time, his eyes were drawn to your figure. He couldn't figure out a reason for it, but the rapper wasn't complaining either.

A sharp pang at the side of Suna's head broke the trance he was in. Osamu had a shit eating grin on his face, eyeing the ravenette with amusement.

"We told ya so." The younger twin mused whilst he handed a long neck of vodka to the other.

"Stop. This is dumb."

"Yer dumb. But you ain't that dumb ta dare ta mess with her." The gray-haired Miya squinted at him, menacingly pointing the bottle in his hand at the brunette. The latter shrugged it off, opening his drink.

"Nah, I'm good." And he meant it.

But how could he explain the situation he was in?

Lips and hands wandered over the expanse of his skin. Everything was too hot and too good at the same time. Overwhelming, even.

He wanted more, more and more. There wasn't enough of you.

And if it wasn't unfair enough, his body felt lethargic. He was desperate, but couldn't keep up with the rhythm you imposed. Be it the alcohol or the stress, his body gave up and blacked out, even before you could undress each other.

In the morning after, a pounding headache woke him up. Suna didn't dare to open his eyes, but the morning breath fanning over his face was unbearable.

"I can't believe a cutie like you have a stinky breath like this." The complaint came out in a raspy voice, accompanied by an annoyed grunt.

Someone snickered on the other side of the room.

"Man, I didn't know you had the hots fer Samu." Atsumu was somewhere across the room, laughing at him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Hearing the other, Suna's body jolted, dizziness made his head spin in the process. He felt sick in the stomach and the morning light made his eyes sting. "When did I get back here?" The male looked around, realizing he was sprawled over Akagi's floor, right beside Osamu, who didn't even squirm at the loud voices in the room.

"What do ya mean? We never left" Atsumu frowned, uncaping a water bottle he was holding "Ya puked on Kita and passed out. The boys were too wasted ta drag yer sorry ass back home so we all crashed here." The blonde was dumbfounded, trying to figure out how wasted Suna got last night.

Suna wanted to know too. After all, there was no way the events envolving you were a product of his drunk mind.

facts:

• Suna's artist name is yosemite.

• He has a Tesla Model S because of Frank Ocean.

• He takes his Nikes very seriously.

• No, not all of his songs are about the car and the kicks.

• He and the Miya twins got a sports scholarship because of volleyball, but they dropped out of school to make music.

• The three of them created Inarizaki, the label they're making music under. Kita and Aran manage it.

• Both Miya twins are beatmakers and music producers. They recently debuted as artists and now are making a collab EP with Suna, thus Atsumu's concern about the album.

[nightshade-minho]

-Blue Book- (6)

Warnings: suggestiveness, future smut

Word Count: 2.4k

Chan knows what happiness is. He's felt it before in mild amounts- like the time when he was 7 and his dad bought him that toy truck he'd been wanting, or when he ate his favorite food.

As the years went by though, he found it harder and harder to feel even an ounce of that elusive emotion. It wasn't like he was a particularly sad person, either. He was just...existing.

Which is why he found you so intriguing. He watched as you rambled away between sips of your boba, accentuating your words with wild gestures. It was cute, how passionate you were about art and how happy you got when you talked about it. Chan loved making his music too-it was a welcome distraction from his hectic life. He never found himself feeling this level of enthusiasm, though.

"And yeah. That's why I think Bernini is objectively better than Michelangelo."

He smiled, nodding, though he hadn’t really paid attention to what you had been rambling about. God, he couldn't help but be fascinated by you.

This was bad. He couldn't lie to himself anymore- he was definitely starting to feel things for you that went beyond mere intrigue. It was easy to pretend he didn't like you when you weren't around...But when you were right in front of him, Chan found himself hating the way he wanted to spend more and more time with you. 

Suddenly, the door to the cafe opened. You looked up when you heard the tinkling bells, a frown growing on your face as you watched Minho walk in with Miyoung right behind him. 

You sat up immediately, glancing at your watch and shooting a quick, apologetic smile to Chan. “Uh, I just remembered I have somewhere to be, so-”

Too late. Minho smirked as he walked over to your table.

“Chan, thought you’d be here. Can we talk?”

Chan’s eyebrows knitted as he slowly looked away from you. “Okay, I guess.” He stood up, following Minho as the two boys walked out. You looked up at Miyoung, who offered you a shy, genuine smile before sitting in Chan’s spot.

“Hey, Y/n. How are you?”

“Hey. I’m good. You?” You said slowly, slightly cautious. Miyoung was one of those girls who hadn’t been particularly mean, but it wasn’t like she’d gone out of her way to befriend you either. 

“I’m alright...” She smiled again, trailing off a little awkwardly.

Her smile seemed genuine enough, but would she have smiled at you the same if you weren’t with Chan? Probably not, You noted with slight bitterness, sighing under your breath.

“Do you want some?” You spoke up, gesturing to the untouched cheesecake in front of you, tilting your head.

She shook her head, the same smile fixed on her face. “Nah, I’m on a diet. Thanks, though.” She opened her mouth, looking like she wanted to say something else, closing it and fiddling with her fork.

Awkward silence.

“I...” Miyoung looked at the fork in front of her, avoiding eye contact. “Are you happy?”

“Hap...py?” You questioned, a little confused.

“With Chan. Are you happy?”

“Oh..well yeah, I guess.” You frowned. “Um...we’re not actually dating yet, you know that, right?”

“You’re not?” Her eyes widened a little. “Oh...the way he acts around you, I thought...” She shook her head, sitting up straighter. “Anyway, I’m sure he’ll make it official soon.”

“Hmm.” You stared at the girl, her expression a little sad as she looked up, staring out the window. You tilted your head, following her gaze to Minho and Chan, who seemed to be having a conversation.

You looked back at her. “Why’d you ask that question? Are you not happy with Minho?”

“Wha- no, I am! I just... ” She paused. “Forget it. Hey...you want to come with me to the mall later?”

You raised an eyebrow. A week ago you had no friends, and now some of the most popular people at school were lining up to spend time with you. Huh.

“Sure.”

***

“Why do you want to talk? What’s up?”

Minho rolled his eyes. “Nothing much, really.”

Chan frowned. “Why’d you take me out here, then? I’ve got to get back to Y/n-”

Minho narrowed his eyes, leaning against the wall. “Chill, dude. She’s with Miyoung. She’s not going to die if you leave her alone for a few seconds. Why do you care, anyway?”

“What are you talking about?”

Minho pressed his lips together, observing the uneasy expression on Chan’s face. 

“...Whatever. Just know prom’s in a few weeks, and Miyoung’s whipped for me.” He smirked. “You better get that book fast~” He turned around, walking back towards the cafe door.

Chan watched him leave, fists clenching as he watched Minho go up to the table, greeting Miyoung and steadily ignoring you. He watched the slightly hurt expression on your face uncomfortably. He felt so much anger, all of it directed at Minho...and some of it at himself.

***

Miyoung quickly put a smile on her face as Minho entered, standing up as he slunk a hand around her waist. 

“Hey, baby.” He smiled down at her. “Let’s go, my parents aren’t home~”

“Oh...actually, Minho, I kind of made plans with Y/n.” The boy frowned at that, glancing at you. He opened his mouth to protest, interrupted by her.

“Um, we were planning to go to the mall, but you can come too! And so can Chan.” She said, smiling sweetly up at him and running a finger up his chest. “Please? I’ll make it up to you later...” She winked.

“Fine.” He gritted his teeth, looking up as Chan entered, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“But we’re going in my car.”

***

Miyoung was a sweetheart, really. She just wasn’t the kind of girl you’d usually befriend- but someone was better than no one, right?

She ran her eyes over the jewelry on the shelves, humming under her breath. “Hm, I’m not sure which necklace would match my belt...what color is your prom dress?”

“Oh...I haven’t exactly bought one yet.”

She looked at you, her eyes widening in shock. “What? Prom is two weeks away!”

“Yeah, I know. I might just wear one of my mom’s old dresses.” You shrugged, looking at the brooch Miyoung was holding. “Ooh, that one’s nice.”

Miyoung shook her head incredulously, putting the brooch down and grabbing your wrist. “Come on. I’ll help you find a dress, just follow me.”

You groaned but let her pull you along, deciding to entertain her for the time being. After all, she was your only female friend in years, and you didn't want to lose this yet.

***

People passing by the two boys sitting at the table and sharing their fries would probably think they were friends. Two dudes, hanging out and enjoying a fun guy's night. If only they knew.

Minho slipped another fry into his mouth as he tilted his head. "So you're sure you're going to get the book within the next few days?"

"Um, yeah. I know she trusts me. We've gotten really close."

"Yeah...I can tell." Minho raised an eyebrow, swirling his next victim in the small tub of ketchup.

Chan frowned as he took in Minho's expression. "What's up with that tone?"

"Don't you think you're getting a little too close to Y/n? You could easily steal that book if you wanted to, you spend every day with her now and I'm sure she's left her bag unguarded around you." He smirked. "Part of me wonders if you actually want her around. If you're dragging this out on purpose."

Chan turned red, the implications of what Minho was saying making him swear internally. "Wh- what are you talking about? I only hang out with her cause you made that bet. Or I wouldn't have looked twice at her." He said firmly, almost like he was trying to convince himself.

Minho shrugged, devouring yet another fry as Chan's mind started racing, the familiar feeling of confusion rising up again.

***

"We shouldn't keep Chan and Minho waiting." You groaned, Miyoung choosing to ignore your pleas as she tossed yet another dress at you.

"Shh, they'll be fine. They're at the food court, and you know boys and their relationship with food of any kind. I assure you, they're not missing us. Now come on, I just know you'll look good in green." She smiled.

You sighed, tiredly clutching the dress as you went back into the changing room for the nth time. For the last half hour, you'd repeatedly tried on dresses to the point where you were ready to collapse from exhaustion. However, the excitement Miyoung was radiating made you want to please her...and it was kind of nice, the way she oohed and aahed each time you changed into a different dress. Was this what it's like to have a friend?

You stared at your reflection in the mirror once you managed to get the dress on, your eyes widening. Wow.

The silk was dark green, hugging your waist perfectly. The cut of the dress flattered your body like it was made for you. It was the perfect dress. You fell in love with it the more you turned around, assessing your reflection from every angle.

Slowly, biting your lip, you checked the price tag hanging off it. You sighed. Just as you thought.

You knew your mom would never be able to afford a dress this expensive. A sudden rush of guilt ran through you as you dropped the tag, running a hand through your hair as you moved to take the dress off.

For a minute, your hand paused on the zipper, your eyes travelling back to your reflection. For a moment, you let yourself imagine attending prom wearing this beautiful dress.

An image of you and Chan, slow dancing under the dimmed gym lights settled itself in your brain. You let a small, dreamy smile take over your face as you removed the dress. Even if you'd be wearing your mom's old floral dress, at least the Chan part of your fantasy would remain true.

***

You hadn't had this much fun in ages. So this was what it was like to hang out with friends. You wished you'd met Chan and Miyoung earlier.

The only problem? Minho. Your worst nightmare, in the form of a handsome high school boy with a devilish smirk and a weird, unprovoked hatred towards you. The fact that you were now left alone with him was probably the only downside to an otherwise wonderful day.

Miyoung had dashed into a shop, saying she'd be out in a second, and soon after Chan had dipped saying he had to go withdraw some money at the ATM. By pure, rotten luck, you somehow winded up sitting next to Minho on the mall bench as the two of you waited for your partners to come back.

You stared ahead of you, determined not to look at the boy sitting next to you. He'd always ignored you, treated you like you were the dirt on his shoe. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing you hated him as much as he hated you.

After a few minutes, Minho smirked, glancing over at you. "Why do you look so worried? Afraid your boyfriend's gone to cheat on you?" He asked, his tone dripping with fake sweetness.

You turned to look at him, glaring. God, this dude was so annoying.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Minho's eyebrow raised slightly, as he hadn't really expected you to reply. His expression faltered for a moment before his usual sneer took over his face once more.

"There isn't anything wrong with me, darling." He said, looking up and eyeing a lady in a crop top. You followed his gaze and let out a snort.

"What an asshole."

"Excuse me?"

You turned to him, anger taking over your entire being again.

"Miyoung's a sweet girl. She deserves a lot better than a lying dickhead who can't even keep his eyes to himself." You scoffed. "You should stop using her like this."

Minho's mouth opened slightly, the slight shock giving way to amusement as he grinned.

"I'm using her?" He pouted. "Hm. I guess that is wrong...I should probably take lessons from your boyfriend, yeah? Since he's so perfect."

"What do you mean?" You narrowed your eyes, slight discomfort settling in you as the man shifted closer to you on the bench.

"Just saying." He shrugged. "Channie isn't who you think he is." Leaning in, you shuddered as you felt his lips graze your ear. "I'd watch my back if I were you, sweetheart~"

He quickly drew back as he noticed Miyoung emerge from the shop, expression neutral as he stood up to go over to his girlfriend.

What was he talking about?

***

"Hey, you okay? You seem...out of it." Chan said gently, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Oh? What- no, I'm fine." You nodded, carefully staring at your lap. Chan turned to look at you, frowning.

"You sure?"

"Uh huh." You said slowly, staring out the window as Chan drove you home. There was silence in the car, and Chan hated it. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension. He wanted to do something about it, but you looked so closed off and guarded ever since he got back from the ATM.

"You can...you can always talk to me, you know." He said gently, as he stopped the car in front of your house.

"I know." You mumbled, looking up at him. "I'm sorry. Thank you for today, it was fun. See you tomorrow?"

"I wake up at 5 am every day for you, now." He whined, glad your smile was back on your face. "You know, going to school that early should be a crime."

You giggled as you got out of his car, closing the door and going over to his side.

"Well then, arrest me, officer~"

Chan blushed slightly, gripping the wheel. "Bye, Y/n." He laughed, as you blew a kiss and turned to enter your house.

Chan let out a sigh under his breath. He realized slowly that for the entirety of the day, he hadn't felt all that much jealousy. He'd been too focused on you to even notice Minho's desperate attempts to induce envy in him. And after Minho's sly accusation, Chan didn't know what to believe. Could it be...

This was bad. This was really bad.