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cycwrites · 11 months ago

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A (Few) Day(s) in the Life - Lingerie

A very overdue second chapter of random glimpses into the lives of my favorite girls.

This was meant to be a short, fade to black ficlet while I tried to remember how to do this words thing. Close enough.

Thank you to everyone who has ever left me a comment on AO3 (I owe so many responses over the last 3 years) or sent me a message on Tumblr, encouraging me to continue after all this time. I’m really hoping to finish a few things next year as I still owe everyone a Staubrey origin and cliffhanger reveal.

For @tiny-maus-boots and @kimmania. I honestly don’t know if I’d be here without your unending support and encouragement in life as well as writing.

And for Rylee, who somehow convinced-slash-hoodwinked me into thinking about the Mitchsen chapter, which in turn reminded me I needed to get this one done first.

Words: 3600ish (aka the 2nd shortest thing I've ever written.)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter 1 (and the whole Nowish Universe) on AO3

Master Post for Tumblr

And just because, the Spotify playlist that helped me write pretty much every Pitch story.

A Pitch Perfect Lifetime

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~S~

Wednesday, October 11th, 2017

“Is it dumb that I’m nervous?”

Stacie turned to look at Aubrey who very clearly was avoiding looking at her. Which meant she missed the loving smile that Stacie aimed her way.

“Bree.” Aubrey didn’t turn, merely slid another hanger to the side and intently looked at the clothing behind it, which was exactly the same style and color. “There is a list of things you are not, and dumb is definitely on it.” Stacie resumed going through the rack in front of her, deciding this was one of those times that Aubrey needed to pretend they weren’t having a discussion about whatever was bothering her. She knew they’d eventually get to the heart of it. “Were you nervous with Chloe?”

A pause. “No.” Another few seconds filled with the sounds of hangers sliding along metal racks. “Chloe is home.”

“Are you saying Beca’s less?” Stacie grinned even though they still weren’t looking at each other.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.” Very snooty, very amused but then a longer pause. “But my history with Beca is more…”

“Spicy?” Stacie looked over her shoulder and saw Aubrey’s beautiful smile in profile.

“I suppose that’s one way to put it,” Aubrey agreed wryly. “But that’s not quite what I meant.”

Stacie looked around them and lowered her voice even though there was no one else near them in the shop. “You guys have been alone before.”

“Not like this, no. Not since…” Aubrey’s voice was even quieter and Stacie had to strain a little to hear it. “You and or Chloe have always been in the house or within minutes of getting home.”

“Really?” Stacie turned and rested one elbow on the rack. “I’d have sworn…” She thought for a minute, watching Aubrey’s hands as they ran down lacy fabric. Their movements were graceful but precise. Controlled.

Chloe had a convention she wanted to attend the following week and it was Stacie’s turn to go with her, leaving Aubrey and Beca at home to hold down the fort. It was something they had done many times before, but it was the first time since beginning their new shared life together.

The nerves were making a kind of sense now, Stacie mused, reaching out to run her hand down Aubrey’s back before moving past her to another rack of lingerie. She didn’t know yet what exactly was going on in her beautiful wife’s head, but since Aubrey was at least dancing around the subject, it hopefully wouldn’t be too long before she could help work through it.

Briefly she wondered if Beca was nervous before deciding that of course she was. The two women were far more alike than either of them usually admitted to. In fact, she’d almost be willing to place a large sum of money that whatever was setting off Aubrey’s nerves was at least partially in Beca’s mind as well.

“Bree?” Stacie waited until Aubrey turned and held up a random negligee. “What about this one?”

“Hmm?” She turned, eyed it narrowly from top to bottom and pursed her lips before giving a single dismissive shake of her head “No.”

As she turned away, Stacie sighed and hung it back up before moving to stand next to Aubrey and flip through the same rack, though she wasn’t paying any attention to the clothing in front of them. “Are you turning your nose up at everything in every store we’ve stopped at today because you can’t find anything you think will make a good impression on the woman who already loves you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Another precise sliding of hangers from right to left.

“You’re using your high voice, Bree.” Stacie nudged her gently with her elbow. “The denial tone doesn’t work on me anymore.” She’d used to think it was just haughty and dismissive – and okay, sometimes it was – but now she knew that it usually hid uncertainty and a need to look in control when Aubrey felt anything but. “You could wear the Bella uniform and she’d still think you’re one of the three hottest women she’s ever seen. She’d be dying to rip it off you.”

Aubrey snorted. “That last is true – mostly because of the PTSD it would cause.”

“Ooh, yeah. That’s probably true.” She waited a moment, trying to figure out the best way to help. “It’s true though. She loves you and when I asked if you wanted to pick up matching lingerie, I didn’t mean to make you think you needed to dress up.”

“No, I know.” Aubrey glanced at her from the corner of her eye. “And I know I don’t, but…” She bit her lip in a very Chloe manner that made Stacie smile. “I want to make it special.”

“The fact that you exist makes every day special, love.” She leaned over and kissed Aubrey’s cheek. “For all of us. What’s really going on?”

With a sigh, Aubrey finally turned to face her, sheepishly meeting her eyes. “I have a lot to make up for.”

“What do you mean?” Stacie’s brow furrowed.

She wondered if there was something else she was missing, having obviously not realized that the two women had never been fully alone together before. Sure, she and Chloe hadn’t yet either – a circumstance they were happily changing next weekend as well – but that was more random luck than anything. She knew how they all felt, knew them better than herself some days, and it had never occurred to her that any of them would be hesitant. Not with how much they loved and trusted each other.

Then again, she reminded herself, they were only three months into their new phase of life. A fact that she found hard to accept since it felt like they had been together for years this way. Plus, Aubrey and Beca were built a little different. More prone to listen to their darker fears even knowing they shouldn’t. Not anymore. And now that Stacie was thinking about it that way, things started falling into place.

“I wasn’t nervous with Chloe because she’s been my home for years. But with Beca…” Aubrey continued, looking down and then back up through lowered brows. “I worry she… It’s just that, the first year I was so terrible.”

“Aubrey.” Stacie very much wanted to reach out and hold her but didn’t think it was the place even if it was the damn time. “You’re both so far past that –”

“Rationally I know that!” Aubrey raised her hands in frustration but kept her voice low. “Or tell myself I do.” She signed softly, shoulders slumping. “But does she know?”

It was said so plaintively that Stacie pulled her into a hug, potential audiences be damned. “Know what, love?”

“That she’s as necessary to my continued existence as you and Chloe.” Aubrey pressed her face into Stacie’s shoulder, the words muffled but the worry coming through loud and clear.

Stacie thought about the way Beca would sometimes watch Aubrey in their quiet moments – while one or the other was working quietly on a laptop on the couch; when Aubrey was taking pictures of her garden, trying out her artistic angles while sober – her eyes so filled with peace and love… Chloe had confided to Stacie that on at least one occasion she’d had to make up some excuse and leave the room because it had moved her to tears.

“Oh… I’m very certain she knows.” Stacie kissed the side of her head. “But I’m definitely behind Project Woo Her if that’s what you want. I will never say no to looking at all these sexy outfits and picturing you in them.” She leaned down and whispered in Aubrey’s ear. “And to imagine Beca slowly removing them from you.” There was nothing more beautiful in Stacie’s mind than the image of any of them being together.

With a laugh, Aubrey stepped back, her smile genuine and more than a touch wicked. “Don’t think you’re going wind me up and lure me into the dressing room, lover.”

Relieved at the teasing, Stacie lifted her chin at the challenge. “Don’t think I’m ever going to give up trying.” She turned Aubrey around and patted her on the ass. “Now, let’s find you something that’ll make Beca’s legs weak before you even lay one silken fingertip on her skin.” Aubrey flashed a wink over her shoulder and Stacie felt some of the tension drain from her. It was likely only temporary, but she’d just do her best to draw the rest of it out or, at the least, keep Aubrey distracted for the next week.

In part she supposed that’s why she had made the suggestion that they go shopping for the non-boring sleepwear that Beca said they should bring over. Both because she wanted to reaffirm, once again, that this was all okay and she was one million percent behind this amazing new life they were making as a foursome. But also, that she expected Aubrey and Beca to enjoy any and all of their moments alone just as Aubrey was encouraging Stacie to do with Chloe. Sure, it might be a little strange to just be two bodies instead of three or four, but they all knew each other inside and out – puns absolutely intended – and she couldn’t imagine it feeling awkward for any of them.

It certainly hadn’t phased Aubrey just a few weeks earlier when she and Chloe had finally realized what had been growing between them for years.

Then again, the rest of them didn’t have the contentious history that Beca and Aubrey did, and the last thing she wanted to do was dismiss Aubrey’s worries and make her feel worse about them. Maybe she’d just have to have a talk with Chloe to see if there was matching nerves and anxiety at the Beale-Mitchell household and see what they could do to help their partners relax. She smirked to herself as she continued that thought and realized that even if she and Chlo failed, once the other two were past the first few minutes they would help each other relax just fine. Repeatedly.

After a couple more minutes of perusing, holding up various outfits up to each other and dismissing them, Stacie pulled a white bustier and panty set and held them up. It was satin and lace, zipped down the center and it was solid with none of the peek-a-boo cutouts that she normally bought. Simple and yet it called to her to try it on.

“Hey Bree? I’m going to go try this one.”

“Oh?” Aubrey turned and Stacie held it behind her back. “Seriously?” She pouted and Stacie laughed.

“You’ll see soon enough.” The pout deepened and she relented. “I won’t make you wait until we’re home – you’ll get to decide if we buy it or not.”

“Oooh, I’m in charge today?” Aubrey’s eyebrows rose in delight.

“For now.” As Aubrey laughed behind her, Stacie made her way to the fitting rooms and found most of them unoccupied. Taking the one against the left wall, she locked the door behind her and quickly stripped, knowing that Aubrey would be drifting closer as she looked for the perfect outfit.

The straps over the shoulder were adjustable and fit comfortably and when she zipped the top closed, it wasn’t constrictive. The front of the bustier came down to points that would pair perfectly with nylons and garter straps if one were so inclined.

Each room had tri-fold mirror on one wall so shoppers could get a better idea of how everything looked from all angles and after a couple minutes of turning this way and that, Stacie decided she approved. She’d also decided that Aubrey would look utterly fucking delicious in this same outfit in black and definitely with nylons. Satisfied with how it fit her, she opened the door and found Aubrey only a little way away, holding up another bustier and panty set that was all silk, lace and almost matched the color of Chloe’s eyes.

“We’re definitely going to have to get that one for her,” Stacie said softly, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah?” Aubrey tilted her head as she eyed the outfit. “I think so too.” She finally turned her head and toward the dressing rooms. “I thi –” She stopped mid word, her eyes widening and her hands going slack, suddenly nerveless fingers losing their grip on the hanger and letting it fall to the ground, utterly forgotten.

It immediately brought to mind the night she’d proposed; Aubrey had reflexively dropped the rib that she’d been eating when Stacie had brought out the ring. It almost shamed her to admit it, but her ego purred under the immediate desire that lit Aubrey’s face, even as she marveled that this beautiful and complex woman was hers to love forever.

Then Aubrey was moving, a not-quite-casual swift power walk that bordered on a charge. Stacie was unprepared as her wife pushed her back into the fitting room, closing the door behind them. Stacie started laughing as Aubrey’s hands began to run over her hips and thighs; the amusement at the best reaction she had ever gotten in public from Aubrey filtering the slow building sizzle as the touches burned with serious intent.

“Bree?” The chuckles still bubbled up but they were followed quickly by the urge to moan as Aubrey’s fingertips dipped just under the edge of the panties and slid back and forth.

“Can you be quiet?” Aubrey’s lips were busy pressing kisses to her exposed upper chest and Stacie took an involuntary deep breath, lifting herself closer and it was Aubrey’s turn to chuckle against her skin.

“Me?” Stacie found herself in the unfamiliar position of having her mind short circuit and having to sprint to catch up with her normally restrained in public spouse. “You’re the loud one.”

Aubrey’s head snapped up, indignant. “I am not!” To her credit, it was whispered and not shouted like it usually was at home. The corner of her mouth twitched. “That’s Beca.” She slowly backed Stacie up until she was against the wall.

“Oh, right.” Stacie licked her lips as Aubrey’s hands resumed their wandering over her body. She flicked a look at the door and was grateful to see that even in her rush to get them in the room, Aubrey had locked it behind them. “You’re going to get us kicked out of here before we can buy these, aren’t you?”

“Not if we’re quiet.” She paused, just the slightest bit, giving Stacie the opportunity to stop things before they got too far.

As if.

“Well, I did say you’re in charge…”

With a familiar wicked glint in her eyes, Aubrey’s fingertips once again dipped under the edge of the panties but this time she pushed, her palms skimming down and taking the fabric with them until they fell to the floor. Her nails ran back up the outside of Stacie’s thighs and up her sides to trace the edge of the bustier, tickling as they barely grazed her skin. “God, you look amazing, Stacie.” She flattened her hands and ran them over Stacie’s breasts to her stomach, curving them around her ribs before retracing her steps. “You feel so good.”

It was unspoken that they would need to be quick as well as quiet. There had only been a handful of times that Stacie had been able to coax Aubrey into anything even half as risky and all of them had been at night and most with alcohol. She knew without being told that if she hadn’t come before Aubrey reached whatever timer she had going on in her head, Stacie would have to wait until they got home.

Aubrey’s fingers were on the zipper of the bustier and Stacie could tell she wanted to do it slow, teasingly, but they just didn’t have that sort of time. She pulled normally, as if this were any normal trying on of outfits, but the second Stacie’s breasts were free, her lips covered one nipple and sucked lightly.

Stacie’s head rebounded lightly off the wall as she jerked in pure reaction and she winced at the small thump, hoping it didn’t carry. She tried to say something, anything, to keep anyone from asking if she was okay, but even a simple “Oops” wouldn’t pass her lips when Aubrey’s hand slid down and cupped her center.

“I think that one looks great, Stace.” Aubrey’s voice was shockingly even for someone who’s lips brushed Stacie’s nipple as she spoke for the benefit of an audience that might not even exist. “Try the other one.” As if her middle finger wasn’t slightly stroking Stacie’s clit in all the right ways to make her whimper even though that was definitely not in today’s rules.

‘Let’s hear it for Posen control,’ she thought giddily, her legs parting to give Aubrey a little more room. But even as she really hoped Aubrey didn’t expect her to answer, she looked down and saw Aubrey’s eyebrow lift in challenge.

Goddamnit.

She licked lips suddenly gone dry and took a deep breath. “Sure, Bree.” She was rewarded by Aubrey’s mouth on her breast once more, tongue swirling to match the motions of her middle finger.

Stacie could already tell it wasn’t going to take long, the sheer fact of Aubrey – her unbelievably sexy but usually-proper-in-public wife – taking her in broad goddamned daylight, even if they were in a locked room, was enough to throw her halfway to orgasm; she could hear people talking in other rooms for fucks sake and Aubrey was still touching her and showing no signs of stopping.

With an ease brought about only by familiarity and deep trust, it didn’t take long for Aubrey to have Stacie wet and writhing against her. She swallowed the gasp as those long, skillful fingers filled her in a way guaranteed to reduce her to a trembling mess in their bed. Except she was plastered to a wall and had to lock her knees to keep herself upright as Aubrey took her in complete silence, their eyes locked together.

She would have thought it was the images of them in the mirrors that surrounded them that would have done it, but it was Aubrey’s gaze softening from wicked determination to sensual devotion – a distinction and emotion Stacie had never known before Aubrey – that pushed Stacie to the peak. She reached down with her hand and gripped Aubrey’s wrist, pulling up until Aubrey understood what she was after and thrust deep within, her palm tight to the curve of Stacie’s body; letting her set the pace and take what she needed. Her eyes closing involuntarily, Stacie rolled her hips, rising and falling, chasing her release until Aubrey leaned forward and raised ever so slightly on her tiptoes to whisper in Stacie’s ear.

“Come for me, mon Soleil.”

Her body surrendered instantaneously. She pulled harder on Aubrey’s wrist, her hips driving downward in rocking spasms as she rode Aubrey’s touch. Eventually her body slowed and she realized she had no idea how much time had gone by, though she was very aware she didn’t have enough time to sink into the blissful lassitude spreading through her muscles in the aftermath. They had to pull themselves together – or apart as the case may be – and clean up. There was also no way they were leaving without buying the garments that had been so gleefully stripped from her.

In several variations.

Leaning against the wall, she kept her eyes closed for another few moments, enjoying the languor before she had to hustle back into her clothes. Except she heard another zipper and looked around to find Aubrey digging into her purse one handed. She couldn’t help it; she started laughing as Aubrey pulled out a pack of wet wipes.

“Always prepared, aren’t you, love?” Just one of the legion of reasons she had fallen in love.

Despite the hint of rose in her cheeks, Aubrey handed over several. “Never know when they might come in handy.” In a lower aside, she half muttered, “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to go walking through the shop with you all over my hand.” A pause. “You’re definitely going to go pay and I’ll meet you in the car.”

Stacie merely smiled. “’Kay.”

It didn’t take long to clean themselves up and for Stacie to get dressed. When Aubrey left the room, power walking like a champ, Stacie took another moment to rearrange the outfit on the hanger and hopefully make it less obvious the room had been very occupied.

When she went back to the rack, she kept an unobtrusive eye on other shoppers but no one seemed to be paying any special attention to her. Deciding to stop worrying about it, she picked up the same outfit in black in Aubrey’s size, as well as a red outfit of similar design that caught her eye. It took only another moment to find the blue lingerie Aubrey had been holding and bring all four outfits up to the counter.

Finishing the transaction without the cashier giving her any sort of knowing look, she pushed her way through the door and out into the bright sun, wishing she’d brought her sunglasses with her. Lengthening her stride, she headed down the block to where they’d parked the car, anticipation singing through her veins like champagne. She couldn’t wait to get Aubrey home and in bed to return the gift she’d just been given…

And maybe later they’d invite Beca and Chloe over and see who was louder once and for all.

#aubrey posen #stacie conrad #chloe beale #beca mitchell #staubrey #bechloe #bellas squared #a shared lifetime #cyc writes #a few days #pitch perfect fanfic

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cerealmonster15 · 1 month ago

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For hurt/comfort prompts I REALLY like 22 so... [churning the gears around in my mind] omg..... A bit of an ambitious prompt maybe but the tweels with azul from their childhood maybe 🙏 like saving him from bullies 🥺

shoutout to this anon from july of 2023 and im only now getting to it in october of 2024 sdkfsdkl i dont remember what the prompt was or the post this went with lol, but i remember asking for suggestions that i may or may not do and then i figured this would just be one of the ones i didnt get to - but then it kept lurking in my mind every now and then. and then just now when i was in the shower i had an idea. so here is a fic about tiny octotrio children.

[ao3 link] [See ao3 for more tags/notes]

Summary: During their childhood, Jade and Floyd make it a habit to see what that funny octopus from their class is doing by himself all the time. Azul just wants to be left alone to his studying, but sometimes a pair of troublesome twins can come with its benefits.

Word count: 828

“I told you to leave me alone!” Young Azul’s voice squeaked out in what was otherwise a quiet, ocean night. “I’m busy, so go away!”

“But we’re sooo booored,” Floyd complained, coming up to swim circles around the octopus pot that his classmate was hiding away inside.

“What are you working on today?” Jade asked, attempting to peek inside the dark, shadowy opening - Earning him a frantic SMACK from a stray tendril.

“None of your business!” Azul insisted. “G-go bother the others! I’m sure they’ve sent you in the first place, anyway.”

“Huh?” Floyd bonked his head against the side of the pot. “What’ve the other kids got to do with us?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you’ve heard exactly what the other kids say, and I’m not repeating it just so you can laugh at me!”

“Do you have any more of those shells with your spells drawn on?” Jade asked, completely ignoring Azul’s protests. “I wanted to get a closer look at your research practice.”

“Yeah, c’mon out, Octy!” Floyd insisted, swimming over next to Jade to try and stick his head in the opening. “It’s no fun in this teeny-tiny pot, is it? Hehe, should I come see?”

“NO!” Azul shrieked, shoving Floyd out of his pot with another forceful tendril’s push. “Stay out! Don’t you have somewhere better to be, anyway?!”

“Like where?” Jade asked, giggling at how far his brother glided backwards from such an intense push.

“Prince Rielle’s having his birthday party right now, isn’t he?” Azul answered. “Go bother him instead.”

“Uh, who’s that?” Floyd asked, swimming right back to the front of the pot, completely undeterred by Azul’s shove.

“Are you stupid?!” This time, Azul’s face briefly peeked back out at the twins from the shadow. “He’s in our CLASS. Everyone was invited to his stupid party, so just go already!”

He quickly retreated back into the shadows of his pot before either twin could get too close.

Jade attempted a different tactic of swimming up above the octopus pot and allowing his tail to dangle down in front of the opening. “Why aren’t you there, then?”

Something that sounded like a blend between a grumble and a sob came from the pot in response. “I don’t want to. The others will just complain that I’ll ruin Prince Rielle’s party with my ink.”

“Oh.” Floyd followed his brother’s example and started poking his tail into the pot. “Who gives a shit about that?”

Azul gasped, caught off guard by his classmate’s blunt, unique choice of words.

“Oh, Floyd,” Jade giggled again, “you really should watch your language.”

Azul couldn’t see his face, but he was sure that Jade was smiling. He reached his tendrils out and tightly wrapped them around the tips of their intrusive tails, preparing to toss them away once more.

“Hehe, you’re pretty good at squeezing!” Floyd said, attempting to entwine his tail with Azul’s tendril and tried to match his squeezing strength.

“He has a very firm grip,” Jade agreed.

Just as Azul was going to launch the eels off his pot, he froze, hearing more voices approaching.

“Oooh, is the octopus crying in his pot again today?” The voice of another kid from class called out. “Careful, you two, or you’ll get caught in his gross ink storm!”

Azul quickly released the twins and pulled his tentacles back into the deep recesses of his pot. Maybe if he didn’t say anything, they’d just go away…

“Aww, just when things were getting good…” Floyd said, sounding quite disappointed that Azul did not end up launching him across the ocean as anticipated. He let out a loud, dramatic sigh, then addressed the approaching kids. “Hey, what’re you doin’ here? Don’tcha have a party to be at or whatever?”

“We’re on our way,” another kid answered, “but you’re not bringing him with you, are ya?”

“He’s only going to spoil the fun!” Whined a third.

“Oh, spoil the fun?” Repeated Jade. He turned to face his brother, a grin spreading across his face. “But we were just having so much fun moments ago, weren’t we, Floyd?”

Floyd grinned back. “Yeah, we were, Jade… It’s too bad a few dumasses came to ruin it, huh?”

The twins swam away from the pot, and towards the small group.

“Guess we’ll just have to make our own fun - but I don’t think we’ll find that at the party,” Floyd said. “Hey, Jade- Whaddaya say we try out one of those grippy-shove-punch things Octy was doing earlier, huh?”

“I think that would be very fun,” Jade agreed.

Their other classmates shrieked, swimming as fast and as far away as they could from the octopus pot as the twins chased them, laughing gleefully. Azul slowly poked his head out of the pot as the noise died down, spotting the others thrashing about way off in the distance.

Perhaps not every classmate Azul had would need to face his vengeance, when the time came.

#cereal writes #twst #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech

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miscelunaaa · 2 years ago

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flurious | ksj

pairing: seokjin x female reader

genre: college au ig. slice of life?? really I have no idea tbh

summary: it's fine, you're not mad at your best friend at all! in fact!! you're so fine that you're going to work off some steam just to prove how fine you are!!

rating: T for too much swearing

word count: 3k

warnings: Based On Real Events™️ (at least in part). Reader can’t ice skate. Lots of swearing. Reader is a stubborn piece of shit (affectionate). Himbecile Namjoon (derogatory). Unrequited crushes if you squint. Very cold winter environments. Small college vibes. Lots of talk about falling on one’s butt and bruises and common impact injuries associated with learning how to do coordinated things like ice skating for the first time; reader’s a tough nugget, she’s doing great. She might also have a slight pain kink oops. Vague prejudice against tenors I’m sorry. Crack if you squint. Angst if you squint. The only thing fluffy about this fic is Jin’s coat tbh, it’s intended to be more of a slice of life than anything else.

notes: Hi. It's missing Seokjin hours in the emothy household so have a short oneshot that I started months ago and randomly finished last night when I couldn't sleep. This really is actually based on a real experience I had, but that's all I'm going to say about the matter alksjhfalsjkdh

For once, I’m not feeling super long winded, so we’re going to leave it at that! Enjoy <3

my masterlist | my disclaimers | read on ao3

The student union is vacant when you walk into its warm, welcoming arms. It’s perfect. No one can judge you for what you’re about to attempt and that’s exactly what you want.

“I’d like to rent a pair of skates please,” you ask the student worker at the desk.

She blearily looks up from a thick textbook and asks for your shoe size before standing to fetch them from the equipment closet. In return for the skates, you leave your student I.D. The entire exchange takes mere seconds. You haven’t even regained the warmth in your nose before you’re stepping back out into the cold night and stomping off to the shabby, makeshift ice rink on the quad.

It’s a clear evening. The stars flicker coldly above, making the eerie yellow light of the campus’s many lamp posts seem warm in comparison. It’s a Saturday evening; no one’s wandering around the tiny college at this strangely late hour, not with a foot of snow pack on the ground, so there’s no one around to watch you angrily try to teach yourself to ice skate.

Anger comes naturally to you. It’s easy, if not outright comfortable, for you to just sit and stew in the emotion. Yet still it’s all to your detriment, making you feel frazzled and out of control. Times like this call for full body distractions, and what’s better than teaching yourself something you’ve literally never done before?

Falling on your ass is the perfect distraction from your asshole best friend’s bullshit right now. It’s fucking perfect and nothing is stopping you from doing this, least of all him. After all, he’s the one who came back from winter break with a fancy new hair cut and now allll the girls are like “uwu Joonie you look so nice without the perm.” While he’s getting all that attention there’s nothing to stop you from sneaking away, because why on earth would he pay attention to you, his fucking best friend, when he could be paying attention to girls far cuter than you even if they’d thought he was gross when he had the perm? God he’s so fucking stupid.

It doesn’t bother you at all. You don’t really see the difference anyway. He’s still a total freak even without the perm so you don’t really get the hype. It’ll take five minutes for the fawning to cease because in that time he’ll open his big dumb mouth and anyone with two brain cells to rub together will see how much of a dweeb he still is. Even so, the people continue to come in flocks and crowd you out. There’s alway someone new who wants to look at the newly pretty boy.

Fuck ... being ignored like that (to your face!!) fucking hurts. Anger is always preferable to the sting of being ignored. The anger means that you’re at least trying to be productive, even as you hide yourself away from the world. The cold is as good a shield as any.

You sit on the rickety edge of the rink and kick off your boots. Carefully, you pull on each skate and lace them up tight, making sure that your ankles have no room to roll. You find yourself swearing angrily as your gloved hands struggle with the laces, but your anger bolsters your persistence. Nothing can take you down from this high, not even the threat of absolutely biffing it like you know you’re going to.

It takes a moment to talk yourself into standing once you’ve set the blades to the ice. “Just stand to start” is what you tell yourself. After a few moments, and a flash or two of dimples in your mind’s eye, you get yourself to stand.

With arms flailing, you stay upright for a good ten seconds. Your fatal flaw, however, is hubris. In your hubris you thought you could take a tentative step forward.

As it turns out, ice can smell fear and has an impact play kink.

You stare up at the sky for a moment after your first fall. Your ass hurts and will probably ache like a bitch tomorrow, but honestly you’re kind of a masochist; you’re not not into this. Why else would you be in this situation, so angry with your annoyingly cute freak of a best friend that you can hardly function? You knew he was handsome underneath the questionable aesthetic choices, and you knew he was dumb enough that he’d start ignoring you to talk to people he was more romantically interested in as soon as he fixed his appearance. You always knew this would happen, and yet you invested time in him anyway. You always rate last; experiencing this pain was only a matter of time.

And yet, the seconds tick by. You steel yourself and carefully stand, avoiding a second slip, but only just. You narrow your eyes at your goal: the rink wall opposite of where you started. You’re going to fucking do this, falls be damned. It’s like ten yards. You can totally do this. You’re going to make this stupid ice your bitch.

Eight seconds later, you’re on your ass again. But hey, you made it a few feet forward. Progress is still progress in spite of accrued costs.

And so you stand again. You try doing that pushing thing with the blade of the skate, but something in your body doesn’t expect to move, so you wobble unsteadily for a moment. A breath, and then another push, more gently this time. Ah, you’re doing it! Yet another push and—

Well ... At least the stars make good company. Your elbow hurts this time; you must’ve whacked it in the fall. Feels like it’ll bruise but that’s just the cost of doing business with this rink and your own stupidity. You carefully scramble up, and try again.

When you finally make it to the other side of the rink, you’re so excited that you trip into the little wall. At least you can catch yourself with your hands this way. And hey, moving to a sitting position isn’t so hard! The cold soothes your achey butt as you let yourself relax for a moment.

Maybe this was a stupid idea. You can feel the high of white hot rage beginning to cool. You’re not sure if it’s the pain or the exertion. Maybe it’s time to pack up and return the skates. It’s getting late after all, you probably need to at least try to sleep.

You’re so mired in your thoughts that you almost miss the backlit figure appear, exiting the student union. Whoever it is is wearing a big puffy coat, and they have something odd looking in their hands. After a moment you realize, heat crawling up your neck, that the item in their hands is a pair of skates, and they’re walking across the quad to the rink.

You stand quickly, albeit unsteadily, as if to show that the rink is occupied, but alas, they seem undeterred. Shit. The only thing that could make this worse is if you were to suddenly loose your balance.

Lo and behold, fate has a sense of humor, and you do just that before you can think to do anything else.

You grimace as you sit up. You weren’t expecting an audience for this. As the figure approaches, you see that it’s one of the guys who works the student union’s cafe some evenings. He’s always seemed nice enough and ugh, he’s cute too. He’s got these broad shoulders that your friends love to stare at while they wait for their drinks to be made. Definitely not the audience you’d prefer if you must have one. As you scramble back upright, he sits at the edge of the rink and starts to unlace his boots.

“Hello,” he says quietly, glancing up as he pulls on a skate. His voice is low, with a rich timbre you didn’t expect. He sounds like he might be a tenor. You hate tenors. You hate musicians. Namjoon’s a musician too, the bastard.

“Hi,” you reply flatly, trying not to grit your teeth in frustration. You don’t even look at him when he looks at you; you don’t need his approval, and looking at him will just make you shy. You don’t have time for that shit, damn it. With care, you try to push forward again, before stopping, arms flailing. You only just manage to preserve your balance and straighten up so you can try again.

The intruder watches you warily as he starts to pull on his rented skates. You can feel the press of his curiosity on the back of your neck and you don’t know how to politely ask for him to simply not.

You’re pretty sure you see him flinch when your skates suddenly, but inevitably, slip out from beneath you, leaving you sprawled out on your ass, the ice beneath cold yet soothing for your bruised buttocks. And yet, he says nothing as he pushes off from the side of the rink, gracefully no less. He says nothing as you pull yourself up again, only to fall again as well, just as you were finding your balance. You take a deep breath, fog slowly coming from your lips as you let it out. Once you’re to your feet again, and without falling this time, you can’t help but let yourself smile, just a little, just to yourself.

Giving up whomst? You could never.

For a moment, you just stand on the ice, breathing and letting yourself feel the skates wrapped around your feet and ankles. Just a small push now. Can’t let this rando see you sweat now, can you?

The stranger watches, his handsome face blank but for curious eyes, as you make it a whole fifteen seconds before slipping and falling again, this time onto a knee and your hands. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him grimace as you look at your hands and dust them of with a huffed little “fuck.”

He’s literally skating circles around you. It’s fucking obnoxious, but damn it, you want to be able to skate like that too. So you stand up again, and vicious cycle begins anew.

“You okay?” the stranger suddenly asks. It startles you, the wobble almost sending you to the ice with a crack yet again.

“I’m fine.” Your tone is clipped with frustration. You sure as shit don’t sound fine.

He drifts across your field of vision, going fucking backwards on his skates. It’s like it’s nothing! Fucking show off. What a fucking d—

Alright. That fall kind of hurt for real. Your poor elbows. They might be having a worse time than your knees. Did you just knock the wind out of yourself with that one?

His words come from a little closer this time. “Are you sure you’re—“

“—I’m fucking fine.”

You didn’t mean to snap. You really didn’t. Everything was fine until this dude just joined you out here out of the blue with his stupid face and his stupid talent and—

“You’re really scrappy, you know that right?”

You glare at him as you push yourself back to your feet. His plush mouth splits into a heart-rending smile. Fuck, he’s cute. Bitch, do not do this to yourself.

He keeps talking as you struggle aright. “I mean it. I’ve never watched someone keep falling like that just to get up and try again.”

You’re not even sure what to say to that. You’re glad you’ve got the built in focus of trying to do something out of your comfort zone and skill set, so an immediate reply isn’t expected. But you do have to say something in reply eventually. The comment was just ... kind of unexpected. And honestly, you think he meant it well, and it’s hard not to let the pride push a smile to your face. You fight it, of course, because you’re supposed to be angry, not pleased.

“I’m too stubborn for my own good,” you finally grit out. “But thank you.” Ah, that was good. Keep that shit up, and maybe he won’t think you’re a total freak by the time one or the other of you leaves.

“There are worse things to be.” His smile is warm enough to melt the ice beneath the blades of your skates. Cold? What cold? You feel nothing but blistering heat creeping up your neck. You’re not used to this kind of attention from anyone, if you’re being honest, let alone cute barista boys in puffy coats. “Tenacity isn’t a bad thing.”

“The bruises on my ass say otherwise.”

When he laughs, it’s low in his chest, velvety like the milk he steams for the cute folks that come to him for lattes and London fogs. You’d be swept away by his charms completely as well if you weren’t too busy being swept off your feet by your own stupidity.

You hardly feel the thump when you hit the hard surface of the ice this time. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re cold or if it’s just you’re used to falling now. The numbness of either is the same after a certain point; that’s the point of numbness, after all.

For a moment, you stare at the sky. It gives you a moment to catch your breath. Watching the stars twinkle and flicker as if they’re laughing at something reminds you that, right, you’re not alone out here on the ice. You hope the stars aren’t laughing at your shitty attempts to flirt with this stranger.

When you pull yourself up to sit, you see that the cute stranger is carefully skating backwards, his head turned and tilted so he can see where he’s going. Good lord, he’s handsome, even like this. In the grimy street lamp light, you can see that his face has been kissed by the cold, but it doesn’t do much to make him look less attractive. The focus on his face makes it almost look suggestive as he bites down on his plush lip. For a moment, you allow yourself to watch, thankful that he’s not looking at you.

When he glances at you, still sitting on the ice with your legs spread haphazardly, your eyes meet his. He smiles at you. Suddenly, the air leaves your lungs as if you’ve fallen again, the wind knocked from them like you’ve taken a blow. And then as soon as it happens, it stops, for one moment he was smiling at you, and the next he was sprawled on the ice with a thud and the smallest, cutest “fuck” you’ve ever heard in your life.

The look of surprise on his face is so aghast that you can’t help but laugh.

“I’m so—“ wheeze “��s-sorry, I shouldn’t—“ fuck, that’s hilarious “—laugh b-but the look on your f-face!”

The shock fades, only to be replaced by a pout that cracks at the edges as he tries not to laugh with you.

You start to push yourself forward him, half crawling, half crab-walking. Soon the pout breaks into a smile as you sit beside him and poke his cheek with a gloved finger. Where on earth did that fucking come from?? You’re poking strangers now??

“How does it feel to be a mere mortal?” you ask. Maybe the question will distract from the ... random face poking? Maybe the cold really is getting to you.

“Never said I was good at skating,” he says, still smiling at you. “Though I can’t say I feel like getting up and trying again after that.”

You scoff. “You’re giving up too easily. What’s the opposite of tenacious?”

“Cold.”

“That’s fair. I’m not even sure if I can feel my ass at this point.”

He laughs, and the deep sound seems to rumble in his chest, just like it had when you’d first heard it. But then he does the unexpected, and holds out a hand to you. “I’m Seokjin, by the way.”

You shake his hand and introduce yourself in kind. “You work at the cafe right?”

“Yeah. It gets hot back there, I like doing something in the cold after a shift if I can.”

You nod. “I get it. I’m out here because a friend pissed me off and I needed to work through it.”

“Can’t kick their ass so you’re letting the ice kick your ass instead?”

Not even the heat of embarrassment can heat up your cold cheeks at this point. He’s read you like a book. You’re poking strangers, and he’s reading you like he probably reads his homework.

“Alright, it’s getting really fucking cold out here,” Seokjin suddenly says. He pulls himself towards the nearest sideboard and sits on top of it. “I’m calling it a night.”

You don’t expect his expectant look. “What?”

“You’ve been out here longer than me. Can you even feel your fingers at this point?”

“Um.” There’s some small part of you that doesn’t want this to end, but lying about it feels futile when you know he’s going to see right through it. “No.”

“I think it might be a good idea for you to head in too ...” he says, and then: “I could sneak back into the cafe for some hot water. Want to have some tea to warm up? Maybe you could talk about this friend who pissed you off.”

It’s late, if you’re being honest. You should probably go home and lick your wounds. But as you pull yourself up onto the sideboard with Seokjin, you decide that staying out might be worth it. Staying out in the first place is what got you on the ice. Staying out kept you here, which in turn meant you got to meet Seokjin. Staying out meant you got to talk and have this moment. It’s a relief to just be able to talk, rather than fight for someone’s attention.

What’s another few minutes?

“Sure, I’d like that.”

Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work. Thank you.

posted: 12.6.2022

#bts fic #bts fanfic #kim seokjin fic #ksj x reader #ksj x female reader #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin x f reader #seokjin x female reader

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alittlebitgoofy · 1 year ago

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calm after the storm (marcia/spice)

i'm finally writing properly again, gay people with mental issues are so <3, and i cannot stop thinking about marcia they are very cute and wbk ilove spice so much, cheers to aubrey for giving me a fic title bc i lost my titling ways in the great war of 2023 (not posting for ages) they/them marcia, she/her spice, (luxx is there for like two seconds but they/she) ao3 link

Marcia’s head spun as they stood up to answer the soft knock at the door. Who was the poor soul about to interrupt their mental anguish?

Opening the door, Spice beamed back at them, her bright blue eyes such a contrast to Marcia’s sullen brown ones. Spice for all her friendliness was an absolute idiot to put it nicely, she cocked her head in confusion when Marcia didn’t say anything, just staring at her as she stood in the doorway.

“Uh, you okay?” Spice’s eyes darted around, taking in the withdrawn Marcia in front of her. Though they were quite a bit taller, they seemed to have shrunk, shoulders caved inwards as their head hung downwards, as if making eye contact with her was the worst possible thing to do at that moment. “Fine.” Short, cold. Two words that rarely describe the blonde’s tone. They were all but begging to be left alone, for Spice not to pry and go off somewhere and forget about the state she had seen them in. “You don’t look it.”

So much tact, Marcia bit back the snide remark, being rude wouldn’t help this. They just wanted to be alone. “Thanks.” It came out forced, their voice cracking slightly, shoulders hunching in more when Spice leant into their personal space to look more carefully. “Have you been crying?” “Luxx isn’t here, there’s no point hanging around.” Deflecting, Marcia shrugged, about to slink back to their bed before Spice spoke up again. “Don’t ignore me, have you been crying?”

They stayed silent, sitting back on their bed with the door still wide open. Spice took a step inside, closing it quietly behind her before slowly walking to hover by Marcia’s side. “Can I touch you?” They only nodded, chest tight just at the thought of having to verbalise anything. Spice sat down next to them, wrapping her arms around their shoulders and pulling them into a tight squeeze, her grip loosened after a second, though refused to leave. Marcia tensed up at the contact at first, though relaxed into it when Spice’s hand wandered to gently stroke their hair. “I know that look, that feeling. It hurts and you don’t wanna talk about it cause that makes it more real, right?” A muffled hum of agreement came out of the blonde, burrowing their way into Spice’s shoulder as she kept her grip on them.

“Sometimes i get like that after class, everyone always knows what they’re talking about and sometimes it feels like whenever i breathe everyone’s attention is on me cause i’m the dumb one.” Marcia hummed again, leaning their head into Spice’s hand as she continued to talk.

“It sucks but I get it, I promise I’m not like them.” “I thought you were only nice to me cause I'm friends with Luxx.” Marcia finally spoke, the tightness of their chest receding as Spice continued, like she was talking to an old friend and not a friend of a friend who she’d never been alone with. “No? You’re nice! Of course I'd be nice back. I can’t be mean to pretty- uh- well you’re not a girl are you? Are you just Marcia? I know that’s what Luxx says, she’s just Luxx. Or are you a girl but not a girl, some people are like that-” Spice’s rambles got interrupted by a quiet interjection from Marcia “You can call me a girl if it’s easier.” “But do you want that?” “....no.” It took a lot out of them to say that, mulling over what they really did want. Sure the word girl getting used for them made their insides crawl and twist into a knot but they didn’t want to be a bother. “So what would you rather?” “I guess a person? I’m just a person. Just Marcia.” “Okay, I could never be rude to a pretty Marcia”

“You’re silly.” Marcia muttered, finally moving to look at Spice, taking in the soft smile on her face, the way her expression seemed so genuinely caring, the way she continued to squeeze them at any sign of distress. “I try.” She giggled, Marcia realised they’d never spoken for this long before, they never made her laugh before. Luxx’s obsession with Spice was becoming a lot more understandable the longer they talked. “I think you’re pretty too. You’ve got a kind heart under all that silliness.” Spice’s face shifted, her eyes widening as her pale complexion gave way to turning a similar shade as Marcia when they spent too long in the sun. Her eyes darted down, smiling nervously in a way that made her ever cuter.

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Marcia hesitated, though the comfort they felt when next to spice broke down that barrier, the anxiety of letting their innermost worries be known. “I just, I think i’m too much. Like when I correct people. I know how I look, that I don’t say much when people use the wrong words. Or that I talk too much and I’m annoying. Or why can’t I know what people mean all the time, why does every conversation leave this nagging feeling that I’ve done something wrong even when someone’s made it clear I haven’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, what did I do to feel like this?” Marcia blinked, letting all their feelings tumble out without a second thought before processing and instantly turning into a river of apologies. “You didn't ask for all that you were just being nice I’m sorry-” “Don’t be. I asked. I wanted to know.” “Okay, I’m s-” “No. No you’re not. No being sorry for being sorry.” Spice interrupted a second time, her tone pointed enough to be serious but not enough for Marcia to think they did something wrong. “Okay I’m not sorry?” They hesitated, snickering slightly at how it sounded. “Exactly! Now you’re getting it!” There was the gleeful grin she always wore, Spice’s hands finally moved from Marcia’s shoulders, one travelling to wrap around their waist while the other came to squeeze their hand.

“If anyone ever makes you feel like that, just remember you’re not the only one. You’re not broken, we’re just different.” “I wish we weren’t. I wish I could be normal.” “I do too sometimes, but other times I’m glad to be the way I am. Other people are so boring, where is their passion? Their creativity? Plus it makes you hotter to be a bit silly. “You know that well?” “Of course, I’m the silliest, hottest girl in the city.” “I wish I had your confidence.” “Truthfully I just fake it, I’m nowhere near as confident when Sugar isn’t around. She’s the smarter one, I’m just the silly one who makes people laugh.” “I don’t think so, I think you’re great in your own ways. You can recognise feelings in people without them saying anything.” “I guess so, I don’t know why we don’t talk more, you’re cool Marshie!” Any calmness in their body quickly vanished as another knock came at the door, their whole body tensing with a nervous tremble. Spice’s eyes narrowed, squeezing their hand before making her way to the door.

“It’s okay, I'll handle it.” Luxx stared back, raising an eyebrow at the nervous looking Marcia and Spice staring back at them.

“Should I come back later?” Spice glanced back to Marcia, shrugging as they looked confused, then overwhelmed as the chatter from the hall came through the open door.

“I’m gonna say yeah, I don't think they’re doing good enough for more companies right now.” “Fair, I’m gonna go bother Mistress, bitch stole my straightener and hasn’t given it back.” “Ooh, tell her I said hi.” Luxx left after that, leaving Spice to silently pull the door shut and lock it once more, scooping the nervous Marcia back into her arms and letting them cry it out. Muffled sobs soaked through her shirt, though Spice chose not to say anything, holding them gently while their body shook with another pained whimper. The tears slowed after a while, though their head never left its place burrowed against her shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m here. No one’s getting through me. I won’t let anyone see you like this. I promise.” “Thank you.” Marcia weakly mumbled, tightening their grip on Spice when her body shifted ever so slightly. As if any sudden movement could pull the one comfort they had in that moment away.

It didn't occur to either of them that this was the closest they had ever been, that some unknown tension had lifted the second Marcia opened up and Spice joined them. It was too much to think about in the moment, but Spice felt something change, her heart sunk at every cry the blonde let out and fluttered when they flashed a small smile whenever she’d try and lighten the mood with a bad pun.

“So, if I wanted to call you cute again, could I call you aww-cia?” “You’re so dumb.” “No, I’m Spice.”

Marcia rolled their eyes at that, though the fond smile on their lips dissolved any malice it could have had. Spice continued chattering every thought that came into her head to fill the silence, occasionally joined by the taller blonde though they preferred to sit and listen, feeling calmer the more she went on and on. Even if she jumped between topics every 30 seconds, there was something comforting about hearing Spice’s rambles.

“And then I asked if she was a porch or a bike person and-” Spice trailed off, curiously noting the lack of any real response from Marcia before she noticed their eyes having shut, still leant against her chest, their own body gently rising and falling with calm breaths.

Spice smiled to herself as she leant back to stretch out, allowing Marcia to stay in her arms as she did so. How did she never notice how cute they were before that day. Being close to them like this, she could get used to it.

#rpdr fanfiction #marcia marcia marcia #spicia #that's the ship name ig #spice/marcia #spice #callmespice

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tokuteasings · 2 years ago

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REQUESTS ARE CLOSED: Rules and Intro~!

Greetings y’all~! After much thought and much inspo from @lunalove25 @toku-fanservice @imaginemaskedheroes and others, I have decided to make a dedicated blog meant to portray all of my writings about Tokusatsu~! Half of this is going to be me...screaming into the void but I’m happy to meet ya’ll!!

Call me Tale (she/they) and you can find me on ao3 at historynut19~!

Requests and Submissions are C L O S E D

Of course, I gotta list out some rules:

Kamen Rider Shows: Ryuki, Kabuto, Den-O, Kiva, Decade, W, OOO, Fourze, Wizard, Gaim, Drive, Ghost, Ex-Aid, Build, Zi-O, Zero-One, Saber, Revice, Geats, Amazons, Black Sun

Super Sentai Shows: Gaoranger, Hurricanger, Abaranger, Dekaranger, Magiranger, Boukenger, Gekiranger, Go-Onger, Shinkenger, Gokaiger, Zenkaiger, Kyoryuger, Donbrothers, ToQger, Kingohger, Kyuuranger

Other Toku Shows: Garo (The One Who Shines in the Darkness era specifically), Garo: Vanishing Line, Legend Hero, Tomica Hero: Rescue Force and Rescue Fire, Godzilla

Rules:

I won't take NSFW requests for younger characters who are under 18 and will keep them platonic or romantic depending on the situation. For the ToQgers especially, I will only take more platonic requests for them.

Poly relationships are a-okay! Actually I may write about some on my own volition lol.

Most of the time I'll keep the reader as gender-neutral. So if you want them to be a certain gender, lemme know~!

What I say isn't really law, but my own interpretations of the characters. You're more than welcome to interpret them however you wish!

I'm a simp, don't judge me.

If you wanna kiss any of the female characters, one-offs, villains, movie-only peeps, monsters, go for it! Lord knows I am attracted to like....60 different peeps in a single season.

I’ll post the stuff I write both here on tumblr and on ao3!! That being said, you are more than welcome to request in the comments on ao3 or in my tumblr asks which are preferred.

This work is mostly used for Reader x Character stuff so I won't take much ships between characters because I know everyone doesn't ship the same thing and like...you're free to ship whomever~! I'll write em if they strike my fancy on the day lol.

Please be patient!! I’m working two jobs and have other responsibilities. I also tend to burn out easily....so it’ll be here and there.

Please also be hella specific and detailed on what you ask me. I’m dumb as hell so ya gotta lay it out for me whether you want like generic headcanons or romantic ones!

I’ll list out warnings in the front of everything I write, and if something bothers you or if I forget to list something, please tell me! On that note, I don’t mind yandere kinda stuff but like it’s going to be....very.....very sparse and will be labeled accordingly.

You’re more than welcome to interact with me! I’m so fucking lonely out here in the void...please come talk to me :’)))

So, shall I spin you a tale, my dear?

TO DO LIST: IN NO ORDER AT ALL (listen lord knows whatever the hell Imma write)

Shinkengers Kiss Headcanons

Momotaros, Urataros, Kintaros, Ryutaros - Dating Headcanons

Angst Headcanons Ushijima Hikaru

Protective Headcanons - Zack

Bath Time: Sononi x Male Reader x Kitoh Haruka

Kuroto Dan Kiss Headcanons

NSFW Headcanons - Hino Eiji

NSFW Headcanons - Hiden Aruto

Satarakura x Plant manipulating reader

Houji Tomasu x sassy reader

Gentaro’s friend x Lucky (Kyuranger) Headcanons

Fluffy Fukamiya Kento fic

NSFW Kadota Hiromi Headcanons

NSFW Momotani Jiro headcanons

Dating Headcanons: Sudo Masashi, Shibaura Jun, and Sano Mitsuru

Roomates with Nitoh Kousuke

Dating Headcanons: Kurenai Wataru, Igarashi Ikki, Sakurai Keiwa

Sleepyhead S/O x Sudo Masashi Headcanons

Dating Headcanons: Lucky x Reader

Dating Headcanons: Spada x Reader

BFFs with Sakuma Kotaro

NSFW Tomari Shinnosuke Headcanons

Traveling to different worlds with Tsukasa, Headcanons

Rook with S/O that can turn invisible

Whatever the hell my brain can come up with lol

QUEUE:

CURRENTLY ON HIATUS

DRAFTS:

S.O.S Series - MetsuBouJinRai x Reader

Some sorta fluffy Neon fic bc fuck the JGP

More Kingohger bs bc I love myself

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db-gochifan · 1 year ago

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Dragon Ball Ships Week 2023 (2) - Day 3: Games/Activities

Days: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Title: Spin The Bottle Pairing: Marron/Trunks; Bulla/Goten Characters: Bulla Briefs, Trunks Briefs, Son Goten, Pan and Marron Summary: Trunks and Bulla are hosting a party at CC for their friends. Warning: Swearing words/inappropriate language Do not repost, claim to be your own work or use it without perrmission. Cross-posted on AO3

Trunks Briefs walked down the hall at Capsule Corporation in a very casual way. It would be a familiar sight, had it not been the fact he wasn’t wearing a shirt and he had a towel wrapped on his neck.

“Geez, sometimes you behave like a teenager.” Bulla, his twenty-year old sister, scolded him for his lack of good manners. “You better not greet our guests like this.”

“Must you always be so annoying?” He said with annoyance and rolled his eyes at her. “Of course I’m not.”

“Good. You don’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of Marron.”

“Please, I don’t make a fool out of myself in front of her or anyone for that matter.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” She went back to her room to get ready for the party.

“You’re the one to talk.” He wasn’t about to let it go like that.

“Excuse me?” Bulla came back to the hall. “I don’t think I understand what you’re implying.”

“You say I make a fool out of myself in front of Marron and that may be true, but you’re not any different than me.”

“You’re out of your mind, Trunks.”

“I’ve seen the way you act around Goten. You’re so in love with him.”

“What have you been drinking?!”

“I haven’t been drinking anything yet. And don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Fine, so maybe I have a crush on Goten.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “And your point is…?”

“I have a proposal to make.”

“A proposal?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“We’ll confess to them tonight.”

“Okay, smart ass. How are we going to do that?”

“You can leave that to me. I have the perfect plan.”

And just like that, he left for his own bedroom.

****

Bulla was fixing one of the pillows in the living room when the doorbell rang. She looked up, but didn’t move. Her heart was pounding really hard on her chest for her to move. Luckily for her, Trunks came running from the kitchen to answer it.

“It must be Goten.”

And indeed it was. Bulla could recognize his voice anywhere, and her heart started beating even faster.

“You made it!” Trunks’ voice echoed all over the living room, in the usual cheerful way he speaks whenever his best friend is around.

“Like I would miss this party.”

“This party or the chance to see someone?” He nudged Goten in the ribs and winked at him.

“I… I have no idea what you are talking about.” The brunette replied, though he was fully aware his blushing cheeks gave him away.

“I can’t tell which one is the worst, you or Bulla. It’s clear as it can be that you have feelings for each other.”

“Okay, that’s not…” Goten immediately stopped talking and his eyes went wide when he spotted Bulla in the living room, staring right back at him. The look on her face told him she had heard everything, and he was... well, screwed. “Bulla, that’s not…”

But she walked past him without saying a word and not bothering to look at him. The half-Saiyan dropped his head in frustration. He had some big making up to do later that night.

“Sucks to be you.” Trunks didn’t let the opportunity to tease his best friend pass, so he patted him on the shoulder.

“Fuck you.”

“Well, well. Who would’ve thought Kakarot’s son knew how to swear.” A very familiar husky echoed behind the two hybrids, and Goten shivered for a moment. “V-Vegeta.”

“Maybe I should tell him about it.”

“He probably won’t have a clue what it means.”

“Ugh, you…”

“Let’s go, Goten.” Trunks pushed him towards the yard before things got uglier. “Don’t mind my dad, he doesn’t know when to stop sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Goten looked at him, who rolled his eyes.

“Fine, most of the time.” The lavender-haired Saiyan started laughing and was immediately joined by his best friend.

****

About half an hour later, Marron and Pan had already arrived and they were ready to start partying. Bulla was making her way to the kitchen to grab some drinks for her best friends, and bumped into Trunks and Goten doing the same.

“Oh, sorry.” She stopped almost immediately when she spotted them. “I can come back soon.”

“That’s okay, Bulla.” Trunks said. “We were just leaving, right, Goten?”

“Uh…” The brunette half-Saiyan looked from his best friend to his love interest. “Actually, I…”

“I’m just here to grab a few energy drinks. I should be quick.” She refused to make eye contact with Goten, but seemed shaken when he grabbed her elbow. That only lasted a couple of seconds, cause he immediately let go of her when he saw the death glare in her eyes. And she left as fast as she came in.

“Don’t worry about it.” The lavender-haired man put his hand on Goten’s shoulder in a reassuring way. “She’s just angry, but she will come around eventually. She has a lot from our father.”

“She really does.” Goten looked around, to make sure she wasn’t anywhere near enough to hear them.

“She’ll be talking to you again within time, trust me.”

“Why are you saying this?” He raised his eyebrow. “You’re up to something.”

“I’m not up to anything.”

“Of course you are. I’ve known you since we were babies. You can fool yourself all you want, but you can’t fool me.”

“Let’s just go.” Trunks talked it off. “The girls are probably waiting for us to start partying.”

****

“We are playing spin the bottle.” Bulla announced as she put an empty bottle in the center of the circle.

“Really, Bulla?” Pan complained with a frown. “That’s such a fifth-grade game. Don’t you think, Marron?”

“I… I…” The blonde was taken by surprise. “I guess.”

“Pan, stop making her uncomfortable. It’s annoying.”

“Defending your girlfriend, that’s so cute!”

“Stop it, Panny.”

“Ah come on, uncle Goten. I hate it when you call me that.”

“I know.”

“So should we start?” Bulla ignored the uncle and nephew friendly bickering.

“Who wants to be the first?” Bulla asked, looking at all four faces.

“I think you should start it.” Marron replied after drinking a sip of her drink. “You had the idea.”

“Alright.” She leaned forward and spun the bottle, that stopped in front of Trunks.

“Truth or dare, sister?”

“Truth.”

“Okay. Is it true that you are in love with Goten?”

There was a complete silence in the living room, and both Pan and Marron looked at the blue haired woman. Goten was blushing as heavily as her and looked away.

“What kind of question is this, Trunks?”

“You said truth. So…?”

“I… I…” Bulla absolutely hated feeling ambushed, so she tried to think of a way out as fast as she could. “I want dare.”

“What the hell, Bulla?” Pan protested loudly. “You can’t switch like that.”

“There was no rule on that.” She argued back. “So I want dare.”

“Fine.” Trunks replied, rolling his eyes and a smirk appeared on his lips. “I dare you to kiss Goten. In front of everyone here.”

“What the hell, dude?”

“Eww, gross!” The brunette woman looked like she was about to throw up. “I do not want to see my uncle kissing one of my best friends.”

“I’m not kissing anyone.”

“You have to, it’s in the rules of the game you wanted to play.”

“Ugh!” Bulla shot a death glare at her brother. She had no option but to do this. So she stood on her knees and looked at Goten. “We might as well just get over with it.”

Pan closed her eyes and covered them with her hands when the blue haired woman started crawling towards her uncle. She stopped in front of him and looked right into his dark eyes. He found it the perfect opportunity to work things out with her – or at least, begin to. Goten held her chin in her hands and looked back at her before leaning towards her and pressing his lips against hers.

It was only meant to be a brief kiss, and Pan started hearing her friends complaining about it taking too long. She peeked through her fingers and was glad and relieved they had already pulled away from each other.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore.” She stood up and went to sit on the couch.

“Ah, come on, Pan. We’ve just begun.”

“But if we ask questions or choose dares about kissing or confessing, there’s no point in me playing.”

“She has a point.” Marron stood up as well, joining her. “I don’t want to play it like this too.”

“I’m sorry.” Bulla said genuinely. “I didn’t realize it wouldn’t be cool for you.”

“That’s okay, Bulla.” She smiled kindly at her. “We know you meant well.”

“Thanks, Marron.”

****

The wind gently disheveled Marron’s blond hair when she walked into the balcony at Capsule Corp. The weather was really nice that night, and she leaned over to look at the scenario below her. She was so focused on it that barely seemed to register the door opening behind her.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.” Trunks said apologetically when he walked in too. “If you want to be alone, I can come back another time.”

“That’s fine.” She replied as she turned around to look at him. “This balcony is large enough for both of us. I don’t mind it. Are you drinking in secret now? Will your parents get angry at you if they catch you drinking?”

“Not quite.” He couldn’t help but chuckle. “But I did want to drink in peace. I would’ve brought you one if I knew you were here.”

“That’s fine.” She gave him a soft smile. “I’ve had enough drinking for one night.”

“Right.” Trunks walked to her. “Would you mind if I…”

“Absolutely not. Be my guest.”

“Thanks.” He sat down and drank a long sip from the bottle. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to play our game earlier.”

“That’s fine.” Marron assured him. “Spin the bottle isn’t my favorite game to play anyway. Can I…?”

“Huh?” He glanced down at the bottle he was holding and handed it to her. “I didn’t know you drank.”

“I don’t do it very often. Only when I feel overwhelmed or I’ve had enough. Or when I want to be brave.”

“Brave?” Trunks raised his eyebrow at her. “Marron, you’re one of the bravest women I know.”

“You really think so?” She turned to look at him after putting the bottle beside her. She held her chin in her hands and looked into his eyes, just as blue as hers.

“I know so.” He didn’t know how he managed to say, with her proximity and his heart beating faster because of that.

Everything happened so fast he barely had time to process. All he knew was that her lips were pressed against his and her hand slid to the back of his neck, after wrapping his arm around her waist. It didn’t take him long to tighten it around her and bring her close to him. Marron slightly parted her lips and let her tongue slid inside his mouth, momentarily catching him by surprise. But being skilled as he is sometimes, he quickly turned things around and their kiss grew hotter and more urgent.

****

Bulla had a large grin on her face. She had been hiding behind a wall and watched the whole scene in the balcony happening. She wanted to scream, but didn’t want anyone to know she was there.

“Spying on your brother, princess?” Goten’s voice echoed in her ears, causing her to shiver and blush before she turned to face him.

“No. Who do you think I am? I’m not Trunks’ babysitter.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Shut up!”

“How long have they been there?”

“Who knows? They were already sitting there when I came. I wanted to go outside, but they started making out and ruined my plan.”

“Can’t say I don’t feel jealous of them.”

Bulla felt her face become red again and began to walk away, but the half-Saiyan man was faster and grabbed her wrist.

“What are you doing?” She looked from his hand wrapped around her wrist to his black eyes.

“I want to talk to you.”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“Will you please let me explain myself to you and apologize?”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and started tapping with annoyance; her blue eyes locked in his. “You have a minute.”

“What?” He was caught by surprise. “Are you serious?”

“Fifty seconds.”

“Bulla, w-… Okay.” He shook his head and started talking. “I’m sorry for what happened earlier.”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Uh… I didn’t mean to say that. Obviously I feel something about you, but I just…”

“You just what?” She looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

“Please forgive me.”

“Your time is up.” Her tone was as hurtful as it could be. “See you around, Goten.”

“Dare.”

“What?” Bulla turned around and once again stared into his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I chose dare. Come on, give me a dare.”

“Goten, we’re not playing it anymore.”

“That’s fine, I’ll just give it myself then.” He gave a few steps towards her; his heart beating faster by each step he took. Or maybe it was hers, he couldn’t tell. “I dare myself to…”

“You know, you can’t give yourself a dare.” She spoke after she realized what he was doing. “It’s against the rules.”

“We’re not playing the real spin the bottle game, so I can make up any rule I want.”

“That’s fair.”

“So you want to give me a dare?”

“Uh… sure. I dare you to kiss me.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Isn’t it what you wanted me to dare you to do?”

“It was.”

“So I don’t understand the big deal. Are you going to kiss me or what?”

“Right.”

Goten began walking towards her again, but she surprised him by jumping on his arms and wrapping hers around his neck. He held her closer to him after he recovered from his shock and their kiss became deeper and more passionate.

“I take it means you’ve forgiven me.” He said after they pulled away from each other.

“That’s right.” She let their foreheads touch; her arms still around his neck.

“Thought so.”

#Dragon Ball #DB #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Trunks Briefs #Bulla Briefs #Son Goten #Pan #Marron #TruMar #BraTen #BroTen #DBShipsWeek #DBShipsWeek2023

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landograndprix · 1 year ago

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Hey! Just wanted to throw my opinion in about the OC discussion. I wanted to preface this by saying that this opinion has been formed over a number of different fandoms, sites and years and that will be my reference. I’ve never minded having an OC, and honestly prefer that over Y/N. I think it has a lot to do with the fic platform and era that people started reading fics. I’m 25 so I feel that’s a little older than most others in the F1 fandom, but young for fandoms such as HP or the like. My 1st fandoms were HP and Twilight and that was predominantly hosted on fanfiction.net and AO3; way back in of dark ages of ‘07 or ‘08 before the the porn purges so needless to say I was reading well above the maturity level I should have been (got to love that unsupervised internet access). Neither of these have ever been heavy in the reader-inserts-there was even a push on both platforms early on to delete/report stories that were posted using this format. I’ve even had discussions w/ mutuals that I ended giving Y/N a name that I felt fit their personality instead of using my own. And was surprised that there were many in agreement with me. I don’t think reader inserts really b/c main stream. Personally, it feels like people become frustrated when something is tag or portrayed as a reader insert and then falls through; i.e. when they talk about hair length/skin tone or they give the character TOO much personality. Reader inserts really had a uptick when Wattpad became Mainstream in 2011-almost 7 years after it went live; which I feel fits the majority age of the general audience/writers in the F1 community. The most popular way that I’ve seen authors get away with having a reader insert without making them an OC is by giving them a a nickname that’s not related to an actual name; i.e Pip or Snoopy.

That was all to say; I would completely support an OC work. I think you’re a wonderfully talented author; and your work will do well no matter what format you take. And look forward to seeing what you come up with.

-🩰

First off all I want to apologise to the people that follow me and have to see me complain about dumb things, these posts are posted during the evening and evening me is so much more dramatic than normal me. Like normal me is always so embarrassed to read back my stuff and see people react to it 😭 that being said, thank you for this message! We're in the same age range so I agree with all of the things you've said! It was just me being conflicted over things that shouldn't bother one so much, there's so many people on this site that actually use OC reader 😅

#y'all im sorry for the person i am after 8pm 😭

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queerplatonicsolid · 1 year ago

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AO3 stats game

thanks to @fiercynn for tagging me!

rules: give us the links to your wonderful words with the most hits, most kudos, most comments, most bookmarks, most words, and least words.

most hits: Drowned Out | honestly i do like this one and i’m really glad i wrote it, it’s not my fave work but it’s up there. Also i’m glad it wasn’t the RWBY accidentally fucking your boss before your first day at work oneshot that i couldn’t bother thinking a title of, and also the zukki pwp that’s like. fine? kinda forgettable imo

most kudos: also Drowned Out

most comments (originally was “most comment threads” but idk what that is): Why you don't fuck your boss | I’m SORRY for the title i was drunk this had been sitting in my gdocs for like 1.5 years bc i fell out with the person i had gifted it for i just wanted it OUT jfc whiterose shippers why

most bookmarks: also Drowned Out

most words: Madness of the Maenads | I’M SO SORRY 0% would recommend okay so here’s the thing, my intent on writing this was to explore how tempting bad coping mechanisms could be, and how traumatized teenagers do really dumb shit thinking it’s freeing but they’re ignoring human connection which is how you actually heal. HOWEVER since i never finished it, it kinda just. stops at the glorification part and is just a pretty unhealthy text floating there as it is. So. don’t read it.

also s/o to my 320,000 (yes i did that on purpose, it also had 64 chapters) Kingdom Hearts fic on ff.net that is absolutely atrocious and (i think?) the first fic i started writing? Unless we’re counting writing things on now defunct forums.

least words: PSA for a post apocalyptic world | ok i’m glad i finally get an atla fic on here! Not too much to say about this one, I like it and am glad it’s out there but is also not one of my faves.

i'll go ahead and tag @whenyourfavouritedies ! optional of course :)

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commaclear · 2 years ago

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♡ Ko-fi link ♡

Hi! I’m Comma! I’m primarily a tnt duo fic writer and parental figure of tntblr (call me appa) here on tungle dot hell, and this blog is for my endless torment at the hands of my lovely anons (as well as memes only I find funny, political hot takes, and brainrot rabbitholes)

I’m not really one for self promos, but I guess I’ll link my Ao3 if you want to check out my nonsense (and if you can’t get enough, I have a bunch of extra content on available on my ko-fi for the low low price of whatever you want to pay /nf)

Anons are my primary source of enrichment, so never feel shy about sending one or fifty. I do not care about spam at all, and as a teacher I can confirm that there’s no such thing as a dumb question (or ask in this case). Send me literally anything. Stupid jokes, three page essays, weird takes, memes, way too personal questions, samurai death poetry. Anything. Seriously, I eat that shit up.

If you ever wonder things like “I hope comma isn’t annoyed/upset with me” or “did I piss comma off?” the answer is NO. I find it funny to act annoyed or outraged in response to things, but I will never ever respond to people in genuine anger. If anything actually bothers me on the internet, I simply don’t engage with it. There’s a lot of negativity out here, and I am not going to add to it. I am not annoyed with you, or upset or pissed off or anything else. I promise if I seem angry, it will always be a bit.

And just so you know, I am possibly the most upfront person I know, and I haven’t felt actual embarrassment or shame in about nine years. It’s great for me, but it also means that I will answer pretty much anything you ask with too much honesty. Even if you don’t realize how much you really don’t want an honest answer to something. So askers, beware.

I never know which cw/tw tags people actually use, but if you follow me and there’s a topic you want me to tag so you can avoid it, please just send me an ask or a dm. I never ever want to make people uncomfortable, so I will do my utmost to tag it correctly. It can be anything. You just have to let me know. Current tags: cw abuse: this one encompasses general/sexual adult/childhood abuse and pedophilia, I can’t have a separate tag for anything sexual bc Tumblr will straight up erase the post from existence if I tag it properly

Um... Gender. Grammatically it’s useful to refer to people, but I really don’t care about it, so use whatever pronouns you feel fit the vibes!

Other links you may have been looking for:

join my Discord to meet like-minded goblins!

The post-mortem for Close to the Bone

The inbox lore explained (AKA what the fuck is wrong is wrong with my anons)

#pinned post

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nachobra · 2 years ago

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random homestar runner + OG fanstuff wiki fandom whatever memory time

- edit the wiki in fall of 2005 as an IP address. a sysop tries helping me make an account (somehow I either just didn’t see the ‘create account/log in” button or didn’t know what that meant). he asks what browser I’m using & I say “windows”

- by the time I want to make an account there’s a lockdown because there’s a bot making 100s of accounts & posting slurs everywhere. before school one day in december I randomly check the wiki again & the ban was temporarily lifted! I only had time to make the account & then the rest of the day I was so excited thinking about all the fun I was going to have with my brand new account!

- so the website had this draconian, kafkaesque rule where only one person could write a character’s email show at one time. so like if someone was writing strong sad emails, nobody else could write those until the author willingly gave up the series. I have no clue why anyone put up with that back then, like it’s completely antithetical to the website’s purpose. itd be like if you went on ao3 & tried to write a harry/hermione fic & a mod told you “woah slow down bucko, somebody already did that pairing. you’re going to have to come up with something different” that’s insanity

- since all the good characters are taken, & all the moderately ok characters are taken, I pick Jaro, one of the enemies from stinkoman 20x6, to make an email show about. it barely counts as fan fiction & is universally beloved. look at this:

not exaggerating when I say winning this award felt like the greatest accomplishment of my life up to that point. this will be my tombstone.

- this was just before I found the website, but from my understanding there was some rp game called “homestar high”. it was about wiki users going to a high school. it has nothing to do with homestar. there was some big drama over e102-stinkoman & princess homestar pretending to be dating or something? like that sounds like something dril would make up about DigimonOtis & RodneyGamerfield, but that really was how names were back then. none of this “trashwitchbimbohell” crap

- one time I got in a talk page fight with a user named h*bad, & the adrenaline rush from using logic to crush his pitiful arguments was so intense that I went to my mom & bragged to her about how I was doing such a good job in this internet debate.

- in like 2006-7 a very prominent user quits the website & leaves behind a big rant on their userpage. for some reason this really bothered me & like a couple days later I just did the same thing for no reason. my guess is that it was the first bubblings of pre-teen angst that I didn’t know how to express. many such cases! less than a year later I unceremoniously returned.

- the sysops on the regular hrwiki did not like us. despite the wiki being dedicated to a cartoon that had a sizeable chunk of its audience who were 10 year olds, they just resented having to babysit all these dumb kids talking about trogdor’s uncle or whatever. they’re also like “why are we paying for server space for this garbage?”. so they tell the community they’re going to do a big purge because there’s too much bad content cluttering up the wiki, they’re going to close it for a bit to clean things up & then bring it back better than before. then they just ignored all our messages for a few years, then the wiki came back in like 2010, then a few months later they closed it for good

- http://fanstuff.hrwiki.org/wiki/The_Email_Intro_Medley this song was really really good but the link is long dead & I don’t think it’s on the wayback machine. noah & brandon, wherever you are, I still remember your song

lets look at this again for a while

#homestar runner

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scribbledonausednapkin · 2 years ago

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7-Eleven (Ellie x Riley)

Summary: Little story about Ellie and Riley’s trip to 7-Eleven and how Ellie got her eyebrow scar

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5.6k

Cross-posted on AO3

Giggles enveloped the small pistachio colored room marked with some black gunk along the edges. Ellie bent over as her side was cramping from the unstoppable laughter. Riley was so fucking funny.

“Like Santa, come get your reindeer. Rudolph got out again!”

The young girl gasped in delight, more laughs coming up from her belly as she clutched the cotton fabric of her gray t-shirt. “Shit, it’s so funny it hurts,” Ellie cried. “Bethany’s face was so red, I thought she was going to explode!”

Riley nodded through her own amusement, chuckling. “The satisfaction I got from her dumb look was almost as good as punching her in the face.” Her smile was wide and bright even in the yellowy light from the lamp. Their backs were against the many cutouts and posters taped to the wall where Ellie’s twin bed was pushed into the corner of the small room. Ellie’s feet, covered by white socks, just hit the edge, but Riley’s calves beside them. Even though she had time to catch up, she felt she’d never be as tall as her best friend.

“God, one day I’m going to knock that smug look off her face,” Ellie said dreamily as she uncurled from her position brought on by her stitched side. She straightened her back, gazing up at the ugly off-white ceiling. In the corner above her bed she spotted a little friend making a web.

“No,” Riley said in a light tone, a smile on her lips, “she’s not worth another trip to the hole. If she bothers you, I’ll fuck her up for you.” Eliie turned and smiled, mouth slightly open in surprise. There was a tiny ball of heat in her chest that formed when her ears heard the protective declaration from the older girl beside her. These little genuine words of care were becoming more common lately, she wasn’t sure what to make of them. Maybe it was dumb and this was how Riley just expressed platonic affection. It was stupid to feel so giddy when she said stuff like that right? Yea, it was just a best friend thing. Anyway, Ellie would fuck up Bethany for Riley any day.

“Oh, wow, my protector,” Ellie feigned a high-pitched girly voice, bringing clasped hands up to her cheek. “What would I ever do without you?” She batted her lashes dramatically leaning back so Riley could get the full effect of her damsel in distress act.

“Don’t worry little lady, I’ll take care of big bad Rudolph for you,” Riley replied with a comically deep voice and a fist beating against her chest. Her silver bracelet shimmied with the rhythm of her thumping. Ellie buckled in cackles, unraveling until her hands found her knees. Riley softly padded Ellie’s back, laughing as well while gently kicking her legs.

“Ladies, lights out!” Laura, the floor supervisor, called out as she marched down the hall.

“Ladies, lights out,” Riley mocked and Ellie chuckled. “Don’t forget to turn off Bethany!” She whispered, though she cupped her hands as if she was shouting at Laura, whose footsteps trailed off behind the door.

Ellie fell over again, gasping, brown curls in a ponytail falling forward against her neck. Riley didn’t seem to notice, as she had entertained herself enough to warrant more unstoppable giggles. After a few moments they both recovered. Ellie looked at the clock, 10:02 pm.

“Well, should we go to bed? I mean, we do have exercises all day tomorrow because of that thing - Why are you looking at me like that?” Riley had a slight pout and raised eyebrows in disapproval. Her arms were crossed in front of a plain black t-shirt over which she had on her favorite baby blue, short-sleeved button up; as usual, it was not buttoned. “When did you become so boring?”

Ellie gaped, “I’m not boring! I’m just saying- like- oh, okay, what do you want to do?”

Riley looked over to the other wall not really looking at the pictures taped up next to the dresser, then locked eyes with Ellie. Ellie felt that familiar warmth again when their eyes met, her heart stopped just for a moment.

“Turn them off ladies,” a firm and steady tone cut through the room. Ellie jerked, dark eyes shooting to the door as she sprang up and quickly fumbled to turn off the lamp. Riley snickered again as she watched, absent of the same sense of urgency. The light was gone with the click of a switch, leaving only blue shadows from the window to mitigate the sudden darkness.

“Scaredy cat.”

Ellie scowled though she wasn’t sure her best friend could see her. She returned to her position against the wall, papers scratching as she adjusted for comfort; she cleared her throat as she settled. “You were saying?”

Riley’s face was obscured by the shadows, but they were still close enough for Ellie to make out her black eyes gazing at her. “I was saying, why do I always have to decide? I think it’s your turn to choose something,” Riley said commandingly. Ellie hummed at the challenge. It was true she often deferred to Riley, so she tried to think of something that wasn’t dull as shit.

“What about truth or dare?”

“Truth or dare?” Riley said, as if testing the words out on her tongue, “I like it. You first. Truth or dare?”

Ellie immediately regretted her decision. “Dare.”

Riley smiled. “I knew you’d choose that one.” She clicked her tongue, looking around the barely acceptable room with a pile of clothes on top of Ellie’s desk and Riley’s dirty socks strewn in front of the dresser. If Laura did a sweep tomorrow they were both going to fail. “I dare you to walk out into the hallway for thirty seconds.” Ellie’s eyes widened and they moved from Riley’s smirk to the plain brown door.

“Okay, are you going to count?”

“No, I thought Barbara would,” Riley retorted sarcastically.

Barbara was the friendly ghost that haunted their room, obviously. Maybe they could blame the mess on her.

“Barbara is a senile, I don’t trust her to count!” Ellie quietly jested.

After she checked the hallway was clear, Ellie stood in her faded jeans and white socks outside their door. It was almost pitch black, but the longer she stayed the more her eyes adjusted. It was a little suspenseful at first, but not that scary. The hall smelled slightly of bleach.

“30,” Ellie counted the last second out loud. She tried to jiggle the handle open, but it resisted. “What?” She whispered inaudibly to herself and then called her roommate’s name, “Riley?”

“That was too easy! Thirty more seconds!” She heard her whisper back through the door.

“What?! No!” Ellie half whispered, half yelled back, jerking the silver handle. The knob rattled and the noise caused Ellie to stop dead cold. She looked back down both ends of the hallway, but no one appeared. Her feet were planted firmly in place, and a chill ran up her spine, increasing her anxiety. Just then the door flew open and she was pulled by her shirt into the room. Eliie went stumbling forward, shocked.

“One minute. See I knew you could do it,” Riley said triumphantly.

Ellie shook her head, “Are you trying to get me caught?”

Riley just rolled her eyes, “Okay, scaredy cat, my turn.”

“I’m not- oh whatever. Truth or dare?”

Riley gave a knowing smile. “Dare.”

Ellie folded her arms, smirking, “I dare you to knock on Bethany's door.”

Riley lost her usual confidence for a moment, eyes widening. “That’s way more risky than yours was.”

“What, are you scared?” Ellie coyly taunted.

This brought back Riley’s usual assumed playful arrogance, “Of course not, just pointing out it’s a little unfair.”

“If you do it, I’ll choose dare next,” Ellie proposed.

“Sure, but you were going to choose dare anyway.”

Ellie wondered how she knew that, probably because truth was too boring. She couldn’t risk being accused of that again.

Riley tiptoed carefully down the darkened hall, then she turned to Ellie who waited at their cracked door. Her best friend’s head jerked between two doors across from each other.

“Which one?” She mouthed not so silently.

Ellie shrugged, she wasn’t sure.

“You mean you don’t know?” Riley whispered way too loudly.

“Shh!” Ellie held up a finger to her lips.

“Oh, fuck it,” Riley said exasperated, tossing her head back; she sprang up suddenly and knocked twice on the door to her right (barely loud enough for Ellie to hear) before sprinting back toward Ellie. Even though she wasn’t the one running, her heart was pounding as she opened the door wider for Riley to barrel through.

Riley came at full speed through the threshold, bracing herself against her bed so she could come to a sudden stop. The girls froze in their respective spots, silent, listening for any movement in the hall. Ellie crouched down with her ear as close as possible to the gap between the door and the floor; she felt Riley soon hovering beside her. She panted from her brief sprint, distracting Ellie from her mission.

Then a creak of a door and a tired “hello?” could be heard. Ellie held her breath and so did Riley, a moment of fear shared between them. Thankfully, the door snapped shut, the sound permeating the space before all fell silent again. Riley stood and Ellie followed.

“So? Was that Bethany?” Riley asked, her expression was unreadable in the murky shadows.

Ellie shrugged. “I honestly have no idea.”

They stared at each other for a beat, then the girls burst into laughter. Riley gently nudged Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie stiffened for a moment, eyes staring at the place where her friend’s palm made contact with her t-shirt.

“Okay, okay your turn. Truth or dare?” Riley steered them back to the activity. Ellie swallowed.

“Hmm, let me think about this. I don’t know, I mean I could go back on my word and say truth,” she said, smiling wide at Riley. It was hard to tell, but it looked like she rolled her eyes.

“But, I won’t - this time - dare.”

“I dare you to sneak out with me,” Riley replied immediately. She had that one locked and loaded.

Ellie looked at the clock - almost 11. “Yea okay, do you want to go to the park?”

Riley shook her head. “No, and since your first one was too easy this is a two part dare. The second part will be revealed once you complete the first part.” Her expression was stern, reminding Ellie of a teacher.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, both perfectly intact. “Steep terms, I think I need to check with my people first.”

Riley smirked, “I’m your people.”

Ellie’s heart jumped. “Okay, my people, what do you say?”

“I say you better get your ass out that window right now before I throw you out.”

Ellie chuckled, moving to the desk to grab a charcoal zip-up hoodie. She had never undressed from the day, so she was ready for the night’s excursion with little effort.

“Woah woah, such violence from the future of FEDRA. What would Laura say about that?”

“That’s not very nice ladies!” Riley used a ridiculously shrill voice to imitate Laura’s annoying scolding. Ellie laughed, standing up and making to put on her shoes, tinted gray along the bottom from dirt and mud.

—

“Okay, now will you tell me what the second part of the dare is?” Ellie half heartedly pleaded as they stalked down a dark alley. She shrugged her backpack higher on her shoulders, it kept slipping down due to the lightness - the only contents were their beaten to hell flashlights. It was damp though it hadn’t rained in a week and their footsteps splashed quietly when they made contact with the shallow muddy water. Ellie didn’t want to know what she stepped in, or why it smelled like burnt shit.

Riley’s head swiveled quickly, scanning her surroundings. Satisfied there was no one around she turned to her best friend. “Alright, so you know the 7-11 on the corner of Broad and First?”

Ellie’s brows knitted together, “Yeah…”

“You know they sell moonshine there?”

Ellie’s eyes widened. “No, Riley-“

“Come on, I know FEDRA’s schedule on that block. We left at eleven, so it’s probably, like, eleven fifteen at the most. They won’t be back for at least another forty-five minutes. We’ll be in and out before they even turn the corner.” Riley had her confident smirk that both excited and comforted Ellie, but the plan seemed sloppy at best.

“And are we supposed to just walk right in? I left my key to open all the doors in Boston on my desk,” Ellie pointed with her thumb over her shoulder, back toward the safety of their room. Not that she wanted to go back, she just wished she was as carefree as Riley was. She wished she didn’t always fear the worst.

“Won’t be a problem,” Riley tossed, “They trust FEDRA way too much,” Riley reached into her pocket and pulled out a couple of bobby pins. Ellie had seen her work, so she didn’t doubt her capabilities.

“I’m surprised you didn’t pull them out of your hair,” she chuckled, trying to still the pounding in her chest.

“I told you this is a work of art,” she waved a hand over her blonde braids, pulled back with navy blue fabric. They had frayed with time, but remained secure in the complex tie.

Ellie smiled, she didn’t want to question Riley’s plan again, but she also really wanted to question it. Still, she trusted her and she had already agreed to the dare. She couldn’t back out now - it would be fine, it would be fun.

They slipped through another alley before coming to the back door of the drug store. Riley crouched, pulling out her bobby pins and getting to work. There was little to no light here and Riley refused Ellie’s flashlight offer - way too dangerous.

Ellie watched fascinated at how adroit Riley was; her adept hands angled the small metal ridges into multiple key holes, spinning and dipping until each unlocked with quiet clicks and pops. Finally she stood, a satisfied smile clear even in the black shadows; she pulled open the creaking grated door, only to reveal another door.

“Fuck,” Ellie whispered as she noticed a key pad. She knew they wouldn’t just have a few simple locks to secure the precious holdings.

“Don’t worry, I came prepared,” Riley smiled as she nimbly entered five numbers on the pad ending with the pound sign.

Ellie gaped, “What- How?”

“I waited outside last week, fucking idiot didn’t even notice me - what can I say, I’m a pro.”

Ellie thought back to when Riley had been “sick” and missed afternoon training last Thursday.

“I knew you weren’t sick!”

“You’re too easy sometimes,” Riley chirped as she pushed open the heavy door. “Which is great for surprises.”

Ellie blushed, embarrassed. “After you,” Riley adopted the manly voice from earlier, holding open the gray door. Ellie passed through, but quickly moved to the side to let Riley take the lead. As they made their way soundlessly through the maze of shelves to the alcohol section, Eliie took in her surroundings. Like most places in the city people actually used, it smelled overwhelmingly like bleach. The glass cases in the back held the girl’s target - shelves full of 8 oz and 16 oz bottles of moonshine. Riley’s fingers hooked around the sleek metal handle on the glass door and it opened with a suctioned pop. Frigid air rushed out, Ellie could feel it on her cheeks as Riley widened the space between the door and its frame. Ellie’s dark chocolate eyes darted around the dark and empty store, some anxiety warming her gut.

“Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to pick one?” It was meant to be spirited, but came out more biting.

Riley turned her head with irritating casualty toward Ellie, “Calm down scaredy cat, I want to make sure I get the right one.”

“How do you know which is the right one?” Ellie asked innocently, she had never had alcohol before.

“I don’t, just wanted to prove I’m in charge,” her companion smiled fully and grabbed an 8 oz bottle with a clink and shut the door, ending the production of cold air around them.

Ellie stuck out her tongue, hands on her hips. Riley made a show of dancing back down the aisle triumphantly. Her back was to Ellie, who watched silently as her best friend put one hand on her hip, the other holding the bottle and swaying back and forth.

“Yea, yea we get it, you're the big guy with the plans. Can we leave now?” Something was wrong, Ellie could feel it.

Riley spun around to face Ellie, a look of amusement could just be seen underneath the shadows. “Fine scaredy-”

Just then the street was lit up with bright lights, the outside was suddenly visible from their position, meaning they were visible from the street.

“Fuck,” Ellie breathed as she noticed how much light filtered through the large glass windows. Shadows of the black grates guarding the glass from shattering spread long into the store, overtaking both girls. “Down!” Ellie whisper-yelled as the sound of the FEDRA truck drew closer. They both fell to the floor with a soft smack, the loudest noise was the glass bottle clunking against the plastic tile. Riley brought it close to her chest, but Ellie faced the front of the store unable to see her best friend from her position.

They stayed still and silent while the large tank-like vehicle rumbled down the broken street. The treads of the enormous tires made a loud thudding sound as the black beast rattled away past the shop. Ellie thought for the first time about how dangerous this actually was, and unbelievably stupid.

When the coast was clear and Ellie was able to steady her breathing, they both stood. Each stared at the other blankly until they erupted into muffled giggles - they cupped their hands over their mouths because they weren’t that stupid. Wow, it should not have been this funny, but damn was FEDRA stupid as fuck sometimes. Riley made a little farewell wave in the direction the FEDRA truck had disappeared to.

“Bye bye bitches, you forgot something!” She gleefully whispered, swinging the bottle overhead. “Okay,” she became more serious as she turned her attention back to Ellie, “let’s get the hell out of here before they come back.” She handed Ellie the bottle, who placed it gingerly into her black backpack before zipping it up as slowly as possible (probably a ludicrous action considering all the noise they made with their mouths). Riley turned the corner to the back wall, but just as she did, a voice yelling from the street cut through the air. Both girls stopped dead, terror ripping through the pair.

Ellie turned to see the vague shadow of a FEDRA soldier pointing right at them through the window. They had people on the streets too? How had they missed that? Before she could even register the lurching of her stomach, Riley took off toward the back door and Ellie could feel nothing but the urge to follow. She flew at an uncontrollable speed down the tiny aisle and went to turn the corner just as Riley did. Unfortunately her pace and frantic energy was a deadly combination because she tripped as she made it to the end of the aisle, falling face first into the shelves she had been trying to avoid.

There was an horrifyingly loud crash as the shelves full of canned provisions went toppling over, one into the other. Ellie could only feel the pain in her forearms as she tried to brace herself in the half second before she was falling into the sharp edges of the shelf.

The next thing she knew she felt a grip on her upper arm as she lay crumpled on the ground. She yelled out thinking it was FEDRA capturing her, but Riley’s voice cut through the air, “Ellie we gotta go, now!” Ellie stumbled up, hands meeting aluminum cans and the metal ends of the shelves as she scrambled to her feet. There was no time to think or feel even though her head throbbed and her heart pounded in her ears. Something was wet on her right side of her face, but she couldn’t worry about that now.

The sounds of shouting thundered behind them as they came out the back door, Riley’s hand grasping extremely hard onto Ellie’s wrist. Stomping boots echoed out of the 7-11, but they didn’t take time to look back.

It was clear Riley knew where she was going as she led them down multiple back alleys. Eventually, Ellie began to recognize where they were. They didn’t hear anyone behind them, so they must have lost their pursuers - if there had been any. Ellie’s brain was clouded by pain and fear; her heart was clenched in anxiety even as their pace began to slow.

Finally, after several minutes of half jogging-half walking with Riley’s hand still strongly holding Ellie’s wrist, they made it to the park. There were only a few street lights that actually worked so it was mostly dark. On the edge both surveyed their surroundings, taking in patchy grass and rusted playground equipment.

“I think you can let go of me now, we’re in the clear,” Ellie finished her scan of the empty park and looked down at Riley’s firm hold on her arm.

“Oh yeah, right,” her partner in crime relinquished her arm and Ellie made a little show of rubbing her wrist.

“Damn, you got a vice grip.”

“Ellie, you’re bleeding,” Riley said as her eyes fell over her companion’s right side of her face. Ellie’s hand shot up to her eye and then slid up to her brow to find the source of the blood running down her jaw. “Fuck, I didn’t even feel that.”

“It’s all the adrenaline from being a badass,” Riley quipped. She was right, the rush had prevented her from feeling the sharp pain that now throbbed hot through Ellie’s brow.

“Yeah, real badass of me to fall into some dumb shelves,” Ellie sighed, feeling embarrassed. She gazed down at the soft grass where her old shoes were splattered with dew already. She wondered what time it was.

“No-” Riley made a face before taking on a victorious persona, “a badass who stole a bottle of liquor right under FEDRA’s nose.” She pulled the sleeve of her black hoodie over her hand and brought it up to wipe away the blood on Ellie’s face. The thick red liquid still trickled, but the once strong stream was gone.

Ellie snapped up, bewildered by her friend’s positivity. She was sure she had looked foolish having to be pulled up from the mess of shelves she created with her carelessness and then dragged down the street to her freedom. Riley came closer, wrapping her arm around Ellie’s shoulder.

“Come on, badass, let’s hit the swings.”

They found two acceptable seats with strong enough chains and started swaying lightly in their respective spots parallel to one another. Only a short moment was allowed for recovery before Riley came closer, scooting her legs under the dirt and holding them in place so her body was twisted to face Ellie’s. She gestured to Ellie’s backpack which her friend eagerly shrugged off and handed to the mastermind. Riley quickly unzipped the largest pouch and pulled out the moonshine. She uncapped the bottle, unscathed despite the chaotic journey from its home to the park swings. Then she spilled a little into her hand.

“What are you doing? We just risked our lives for that!” Ellie recoiled.

“And you injured yourself. Shut up and come here,” Riley replied. Ellie faced her, scooting her swing closer. Riley pressed her alcohol soaked fingers to Ellie’s wound, rubbing it in and trying to clear the blood away. Ellie winced from the burning. It left a lightly orange smear beside her right eye.

“Um, well, it’s not perfect, but I think it’s disinfected. We’ll clean you up when we get back.”

“Is it really bad?” Ellie asked, wincing again as the alcohol continued to sting her cut.

“Nah, scars are mysterious. And hot.” Riley smiled, and Ellie felt heat creep up her neck. Riley wasn’t saying she was hot of course, just that the scars were hot.

“Cool.”

“Yeah, Bethany will be so confused. We’ll tell her you got it in a bar brawl. She’ll be too scared to try and fight you again.”

Ellie snorted at the ridiculousness of the comment, “Well at least you won’t have to protect me anymore.”

Riley was silent for a moment. Eventually her dark eyes met Ellie’s. “You know I was kidding right? You could take her if you really wanted to.”

Ellie stared at the sincere expression Riley gave her, the lopsided smile and earnest eyes. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.” The truth was, Ellie didn’t know before Riley told her. She thought she could, but when Riley said it that’s when she knew she could.

“No need to thank me, in fact I think it’s time for your second dare.” Riley snapped back to playfulness in an instant.

Ellie gaped, “Wait. What? I thought stealing was the second part.”

“I never actually dared you to do that.”

Ellie thought back. Fuck, she was right.

“Shit. Okay, so, I guess that was what, just for fun?”

“Duh, plus if we didn’t do that I couldn’t dare you to drink this,” Riley handed Ellie the bottle before releasing her hold with her feet. The swing swung out horizontally as if a short forceful breeze had pushed her away.

“Oh, well, that’s easy,” Ellie replied, taking a swig of the clear liquid. Immediate regret. She gagged, spitting out the harsh drink. The taste was absolutely vile.

Riley giggled and swam back toward her, grabbing the bottle. “First time, huh?” She took a swig, making a disgusted grimace, but swallowing without much of a gag. Ellie refused to be embarrassed again, so she swung out hard toward Riley, snatching the bottle.

“Just getting a taste for it,” she sang before taking another swig. Heat swam through her veins, though it took all her effort not to gag again. Her cut throbbed a little, but she felt little pain as she and Riley began play-fighting for the bottle. They drank and swang, joking and laughing as they always did.

“You know, I feel like I could take on ten Rudolphs right now,” Ellie said as she handed the bottle back to Riley then moved her arms out to her sides to dramatically flex her biceps. Her head was swimming and her body was hot, but in a good way. In a free, she-could-do-anything kind of way.

“Yeah I bet. I’ll take Santa. The fat bastard won’t know what hit him,” Riley replied, throwing fists out in front of her, taking on the invisible enemy. Her long fingers gripped the neck of the bottle and a little bit of clear liquid spilled out. The moonshine was only a third of the way gone.

Ellie threw her head back with a chortle. “Can you believe kids used to really believe some fat guy in a red track suit brought them presents? Like all the kids too - all in one night!” Ellie swang a bit higher, feeling her stomach drop; it was a bit uncomfortable so she let her legs stay stiff out in front of her as the momentum of her push off slowed. Riley had yet to respond.

“Riley?” Ellie dug in her heels to come to a complete halt.

“Huh? Oh yeah, pretty stupid,” Riley sighed. Ellie’s eyes snapped to her friend who did not respond with the usual fanfare. She was staring at the bottle in her hand.

“What’s up?” Ellie swung over gently nudging her shoulder before letting the force swing her back. The rusted chains rattled in the quiet night. The movement felt excessively fluid under the waves of alcohol pulsing through Ellie’s body. She hadn’t had much, but it had been more than enough to feel the effects.

“Nothing, I,” Riley kept staring at the bottle. “I was just thinking about the last time I celebrated Christmas.”

“You celebrated Christmas?” Ellie said, a little shocked. She stilled the swing, eyes tracing Riley's profile.

“I mean, not really. My mom, she tried. She said she didn’t want me to live in a world where Christmas didn’t exist,” Riley switched the hand the bottle was in and brought her arm up closer to her face. Then Ellie realized her solemn friend wasn’t staring at the alcohol, but the little silver chain around her wrist. “She didn’t have much - I mean, we didn’t, but she still had this.” Riley moved her wrist lightly so the thin silver wristlet shook. There were a few little charms attached, silver though there clearly used to be some color over them. In the darkness she couldn’t make out their shapes, but she had seen it before: a butterfly, a high heel, a heart.

Ellie had never realized the deep meaning imbedded in the sterling silver.

“She gave that to you?” Ellie asked, feeling stupid. It was obvious that her mom had given Riley the bracelet, but Ellie didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah,” Riley sucked in a breath; harsh and quick. She swallowed. “She wanted me to have a present, this was hers when she was younger, it’s the only thing she had from before.” Even in the darkness Ellie could make out a tear trailing down her best friend’s face.

“She sounds amazing,” Ellie breathed out in leui of staying silent. She wasn’t the best at comforting people, even sober. She’d never had to really, never wanted to. Riley turned to her slightly with a sad smile, another tear following its predecessor.

“Yeah, she was.”

“I wish I could have met her.” Ellie didn’t know why she said it, but it was true. She would have loved to meet Riley’s mom. If she was anything like her daughter, she was definitely amazing.

“She would have liked you, I think,” Riley said, wiping her face. Ellie flushed and was glad the night was helping to hide it. “I miss her a lot.”

Ellie didn’t say anything. She couldn’t relate - she never knew her parents, so she didn’t know what it was to miss them.

“I just wonder sometimes,” Riley started, but then turned away and took a swig from the bottle. “Never mind.”

“No-“ Ellie said a bit louder than she wanted to. Riley jerked, surprised. “Sorry- I mean- Sorry that was loud.” Ellie scanned the park, not really taking in her surroundings. She took a breath, “I mean, tell me- you can tell me. Ugh.” Ellie stumbled over her words to Riley’s amusement.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, handing the bottle to Ellie. Her friend gratefully took it back and had another sip.

“Okay now you have to tell me.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Um, I don’t know. It’s stupid, but I just miss her so much - sometimes I wonder if anyone will ever miss me the same way, you know?”

Ellie felt her heart squeeze - she did know, but maybe not the way Riley meant it. She looked down at her dirt covered laces.

“Sorry! Ellie, sorry - I’m stupid.” Ellie jerked up to see a terrified Riley. “I totally forgot, I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine,” Ellie said softly. “Sometimes I think it’s better - not having parents. There’s nothing to miss.”

Riley stayed silent, watching her friend. Ellie’s eyes stayed on her shoes as they scraped across the dust gathered underneath the swing.

“I’d miss you.”

Stupid, what a stupid thing to say. Ellie kicked her heel as heat rushed to her face. That’s not what Riley meant.

“I’d miss you too.”

Ellie met Riley’s eyes once more. They were glistening in the full light from the street, the whites an off-gray, the dark brown an unending black. Her pale pink smile was soft and genuine. Ellie felt her whole body warm with the words, and she held back tears threatening to break over her water lines. Alcohol had many effects it seemed.

“Cool,” Ellie barely said it, but when she did she felt another wave of hot embarrassment.

“Cool,” Riley echoed. “Now, hand over the bottle so I can forget we got all mushy.”

“You started it,” Ellie said with a chuckle, handing the bottle back to Riley.

After what felt like minutes, but also hours, they finally returned to their room. They flung themselves into their respective beds with little more than grunts of goodnight. They only had a few precious hours before they had to be up for all day drills, and Ellie could already feel a headache coming on. She curled up on her stiff mattress, head adjusting on the flat pillow and dared to glance over at Riley who was laying on her stomach already passed out, face facing the door. Blonde stray hairs had found their way through her navy headband, settling softly on her cheek while gray shadows fell over her closed lids. Ellie thought about their conversation on the swings, feeling that comforting warmth swim through her body at the thought of Riley whispering that she would miss Ellie too.

The headache was totally worth it.

#tlou #tlou ellie #tlou fanfiction #ellie x riley #tlou riley

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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 2 years ago

Text

Almost, A Light in the Dark

1 : Lure of The Light

"In almost any case, we embrace you," Virgil had said.

Roman knew he hadn't meant it like that, Virgil would never say something so cruel. That didn't mean he could stop thinking about it.

It didn't mean it wasn't true for the others, either.

----

A look into Roman's buildup to becoming a dark side in my Darkside!Roman AU

| AO3 | Next Part -> |

Warnings: Some self depreciation, please let me know if there's thing else

Pairings: Roceit (though it's only the buildup to romantic) creativitwins, Roman & Virgil

Word count: 7444 (first part)

Notes:

Second part coming out either later tonight or tomorrow :)

Hello hello, I wrote half of this entire thing yesterday, the other half had been sitting in my drafts for... like a month, lol.

I don't post that often about Darkside!Roman, but he's great and beautiful and I love him very much.

As a side note, none of the light sides are unsympathetic, because i don't think I could deal with writing that, I also couldn't write Roman and Virgil with a bad relationship, even if Virgil's comment inspired this, so there's a little salt there, but nowhere near as much as there is with Patton especially. haha.

“In almost any case we-”

Roman slammed his head onto his stack of papers, hoping that the impact would get that infuriating line out of his head, but he just couldn’t shake it.

The song they had sung during that stupid puppet episode had been bothering him almost constantly since. And why? Because they’d solved the issue! They’d gotten to vent about their issues a little- at least, Virgil and Patton had, all he’d done was insult the others and then have a bunch of assumptions made about him when he really hadn’t wanted to open up at all. But the only thing that mattered was that Thomas had felt better afterwards.

And what was the line that was bothering him? Of course, something that Virgil said.

“You don’t need to save face, in almost any case we embrace you-”

There was a difference, Roman thought, between thinking someone’s love was conditional and hearing them say it outright.

He was sure Virgil hadn’t meant it like that. Surely he didn’t, and then they’d said that no-one hates him but- how could he be sure? And that’s how it started.

It had been months since then and Roman had just been getting worse, making mistake after mistake that he couldn’t fix. A little part of him felt like he was doing it purposefully. Making everything worse and worse, because what was that almost? What fell beyond the line of acceptance? Where were the boundaries?

After how many mistakes would they deem him unworthy of their love?

—-

The courtroom had been horrible.

Roman had acted silly, making jokes and acting dumb and pretending to be fine whilst inside he was tearing himself apart. What decision could he make? Either way it wouldn’t end well. It was a decision between Patton and Deceit, or, more accurately, Patton and Thomas . He either kept Patton happy or gave Thomas- and by extension himself- something they wanted more than anything. But if he sided with Deceit then Patton would hate him and so would Virgil.

The whole time he sat behind the judge’s bench, watching Deceit question Logan and Virgil and then practically interrogate Patton and then lecture Thomas, he couldn’t help but think he agreed. He agreed with the snake, and what could that mean? Did that make him bad? But Deceit was right . This whole argument was between something that Thomas wanted, really, really wanted, and something that wouldn’t make him feel good at all, though it would make him feel far less guilty, to be there for his friends when they invited Thomas in person too. Roman couldn’t understand why they couldn’t just… talk to Lee and Mary-Lee, it made no sense.

But even though Deceit was right, that going to the callback was the best choice and really, the one everyone but Patton actually wanted, Roman had still chosen to have Thomas go to the wedding. In the end, he couldn’t stand to lose Patton’s support and faith in him, even if it cost them their mental health.

And cost him his mental health it had.

As soon as the video was done, Roman had sunk out of his room and buried himself in his blankets. He peeked out, looking at the Hollywood posters- amongst all the Broadway and Disney- that were plastered to his walls. His eyes found the Alfred Hitchobolucus poster- for Psycho Godfather Wars- and his eyes welled up with tears. He really had cost them their chance to be on the silver screen, which, to quote Logan, statistically they will not get again.

Oh, what had he done.

—-

Roman didn’t come out of his room for three days after the courtroom. He knew the others were probably worried, but he couldn’t face them right now. He didn’t want to hear Patton tell him he had made the right choice when he hadn’t . He didn’t want to talk to Virgil and find out just how much he had fucked up and he definitely didn’t want to talk to Logan, who would just inform him that he’d made the wrong choice in a slightly different font.

And he didn’t want to find out whether their conditional love had met its limits just yet.

On the third day of his solitude, Roman was practically miserable. He’d been eating the snacks he kept in his room to eat while he worked- though he hadn’t done much of that- he had barely moved from his bed for more than to shower.

There was a knock on his door. Three knocks, actually, quick and sharp with the exact same amount of time between them. That wasn’t Patton, who always knocked a different pattern each time- he thought it was funny- it wasn’t Virgil, who always knocked quietly as if he was afraid the door would attack him if he hit it too hard. And it wasn’t Logan, who always knocks twice, evenly and much more gently. It couldn’t be his brother, because Remus had never knocked on a door in his life and why would Remus be coming to see him anyway, he was stuck over in the dark side.

So that left…

“Go away, Deceit,” Roman called, his voice wavered- he really hoped the other side hadn’t noticed, “I don’t want to speak with you.”

His door opened anyway. Damn Deceit.

“Well I don’t want to speak with you either, and this is not important at all.” Deceit said, standing in his doorway with a frown on his face.

“What could you possibly want to talk to me about that’s so important,” Roman said, not looking up, “Go talk to someone else.”

“No,” Deceit said, walking in and closing the door behind him, the sound finally making Roman snap to attention, “It has to be you.”

“What? What is it then? Is this about the courtroom? Are you going to tell me I was stupid? That I made the wrong choice and all of this is my fault?” Roman asked, gripping the blankets in his fists, “You want to let me know that everyone’s decided I’m not worth it? That Thomas is suffering now because of me? Because, newsflash, I already know all that.”

Deceit was silent for a moment. Before he sighed and came closer, stopping at the edge of Roman’s bed.

“May I sit?”

“You may not.” Roman said harshly, he just wanted Deceit to leave, what the hell was this all about anyway?

“Alright,” Deceit nodded, staying where he was, “I definitely came here to tell you all of those things you listed, and definitely not to talk about the fact that everyone is worried about you.”

Roman laughed, almost hysterically, “I highly doubt that.”

“Why’s that?” Deceit asked, tilting his head, “They haven’t seen you since the courtroom.”

“So why are you here and not them?” Roman asked, wrapping his arms around himself, “If they really were worried about me, they’d have come to check on me.”

“They’re definitely not also recovering from the stress that your decision in the courtroom-”

“My decision? My decision? Like there was any real decision to be made,” Roman cried, throwing up his hands. He could feel the tears pooling in his eyes once more, “I made a mistake, I know I did, I was- I was selfish and look where that got me!”

Deceit’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean you were selfish, I thought you wanted to go to the callback? Sentencing Thomas to the wedding was definitely the most selfish thing you could have done.”

“It- it was selfish!” Roman said, rubbing forcefully at his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the tears, “If I had- had chosen the callback Patton and Virgil would’ve- they would’ve hated me for siding with you ! Even if it was the best choice for Thomas, I was- I chose to please Patton instead because I didn’t want to- to lose them. But hey, look at that, it’s still all fucked up. It was a lose-lose situation.”

“Hey, sweetheart, look at me,” Deceit said and Roman jumped, he had no idea Deceit could talk that softly. He looked up.

“You definitely fucked everything up, alright?” Deceit said, reaching forward and, when Roman didn’t jerk away, wiping a tear from his cheek with a gloved finger. Roman was surprised that the fabric was so soft- Virgil had been sure they were washing up gloves.

Deceit sighed, “Roman, sweetheart, I put you in a harmful position in that courtroom, I totally knew you had so much riding on it when I did so, all I considered was that you were most likely to side with me.”

“They hate you,” Roman said, voice smaller than even he’d ever heard it, “Especially Virgil, and Patton just thinks that you want to drive Thomas down the wrong path it’s just- I could see what you were trying to do, and- well I know what the right choice was, and now everyone is miserable because I made the wrong one.”

Deceit rolled his eyes, “Do you really think I care about them liking me? I should hope the amount of effort I put into playing the villain would work better than that.”

“It’s difficult to convince people to do something when they hate you,” Roman pointed out, sniffing.

“Well that’s why I tried to get you on my side, isn’t it?” Deceit said with a smile, putting a hand on his hip, “You didn’t want to go to the callback as much as I did, and besides, you’ve been the least outwardly hateful to me out of all of you.”

“So you just wanted to use me?” Roman asked, eyes narrowing and hands once again gripping at the blankets. If only he was as smart as Logan or as suspicious as Virgil, then he might’ve noticed for goodness sake, he was so stupid, he’d let himself get used - there was a finger on his nose. His eyes widened, looking up at Deceit, who smiled softly and removed his hand.

“You got lost in your thoughts,” Deceit said by way of explanation, “And did I say that? No, I didn’t use you, only manipulated the circumstances for the highest chance of success.”

“But it still didn’t work.”

“Oh of course it all went according to plan,” Deceit chuckled, “But that’s only because I thought to account for extra variables.”

Roman hummed in agreement, pulling himself up to sit properly, he thought for a second, before sighing, “Hey, Deceit?”

“Yes, darling?” Deceit asked. Roman paused, Deceit knew a lot about philosophy and psychology too, like Logan did, he might help… but- oh, he didn’t want to make this any worse.

“Nevermind,” He sighs, “It was stupid, don’t worry.”

“Well now I’m definitely not going to worry,” Deceit huffed.

“It’s- really fine I just- was thinking about how the others never came to check on me…” Roman sighed, “It’s not like I locked myself in here to- test them - or something I just… I’m a little disappointed it was you, no offence.”

“Full offence taken,” Deceit said, “But it doesn’t make me wonder why you worry.”

“Oh well- I suppose-” Roman shook his head, “It’s because of a stupid offhanded thing Virgil said in a video a while ago, but, my brain won’t let it go no matter how silly it is to worry about.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, really, it isn’t your problem to deal with,” Roman said firmly, “Why- actually why are you even still here? You told me they were worried- so…”

“Perhaps I was worried also,” Deceit shrugged, “But I won’t go if you want me to.”

“Yes I… think I’d like to be alone some more, but um- thank you, I suppose, for checking on me,” Roman offered a tentative smile, “Even though I was rude to you.”

“You had no right to be,” Deceit said with a shrug as he moved away from Roman’s bed and back towards the door, turning back just before stepping through, “Call on me if you need anything, alright?”

“I- um- will?” Roman said, though it was phrased more like a question, why had Deceit offered something like that? Did he… actually care? Surely not…

—-

Roman couldn’t believe he’d been knocked out for that whole episode.

He knew sulking in his room wasn’t going to actually achieve anything, but after his own brother had knocked him out on camera and made a complete fool of him to the audience, he thought it was a valid response.

Something had changed after the end of the filming for that episode, though Roman hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out what. He was sure the others would fill him in later, probably alongside chastising him for running off so quickly. Roman wasn’t scared of his brother, far from it, actually. He missed Remus, all of his whacky ideas and hilarious strangeness that the others would never see past his label as Intrusive Thoughts. What he was scared of, though was…

Well if Remus was around, what if Roman faltered his persona? What if Patton saw through his act? Saw that he wasn’t quite the perfection he presented himself as? What if they saw Remus and saw him not as a separate side but as a fault of Roman? Roman didn’t want that for either of them.

And he couldn’t risk his facade cracking even a little. Not if he wanted to stay with his FamILY.

For now, though, he didn’t have time to worry about all that. He had to brother-proof his room, because if Remus was able to show himself to Thomas then that probably meant he could get into the light side’s mindscape too. Roman had to make sure his room was protected against his brother’s slime and grime.

Speaking of…

“Hey Ro!”

…Remus was hanging through a hole in the ceiling. Roman looked up and simply sighed, that would have to be fixed.

“Hello, brother,” Roman said, his voice full of salt, “What do you want? Come to knock me out again?”

“Nope!” Remus said, dropping down from the ceiling to crash on the ground, standing up slowly with a grin on his face, “Just wanted to say hi! It’s been a while, y’know?”

Roman paused, looking back at him, surprise probably etched across his face, “Really? And that’s all? No- trap? Or trick?”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Course not, just a reunion, I might’ve gotten something gross on my hands though.”

“Don’t touch me,” Roman said, narrowing his eyes, “But- alright, a reunion probably is in order, I suppose.”

“Oh yay!” Remus cheered, “I thought you’d chase me out with a pitchfork as soon as I showed up!”

“I’m still considering it,” Roman snapped, “So don’t push it.”

“Ok Ok jeez,” Remus huffed, “I brought cake!”

Roman furrowed his brows, staring at Remus in suspicion, “Is it edible?”

“Dee made it, so, probably?” Remus said, summoning said cake into existence. It did look good, despite Roman’s hesitation, Remus barked out a laugh, “I’m not allowed in the kitchen.”

“Neither am I,” Roman said, allowing himself a small chuckle. Remus' laughter, when it was real, was contagious for Roman, he hated it, “But if someone else made it, then I- suppose it’s ok to eat?”

“Hurrah!” Remus cheered, pulling a knife out of thin air which Roman immediately snatched, “Hey!”

“Absolutely not, it’s probably infected with rabies or something,” Roman said, frowning, Remus pouted.

Shaking his head, Roman took the cake and placed it down on his desk before summoning a knife of his own and cutting a large slice that Logan would definitely disapprove of. The cake was red velvet, Roman’s favourite. He wondered if it was Remus' favourite too, he found he couldn't remember.

Roman handed the first slice to Remus, knowing he wouldn’t bother with a plate and cutlery even if Roman put in the effort of summoning them. The sight of his brother stuffing his face with cake like that kid from Matilda made Roman chuckle as he cut his own piece.

Once Remus was done licking the icing off of his fingers he immediately picked up the knife to cut himself another slice, making Roman laugh.

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Roman said, Remus rolled his eyes, taking another bite of cake, "We really shouldn't eat too much."

“Wh’re’s t’e fun in’at,” He said though his mouthful, dropping crumbs everywhere, he swallowed, “C’mon Ro! Have fun! We don’t gotta tell anyone we ate the whole cake! You know you want to-”

Roman shook his head, though a smile was already taking over his face as he reached for the knife, “Fine, getting sick it is.”

“It’s not even that big of a cake,” Remus said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah well usually I wouldn’t get that much,” Roman huffs, “Not when everyone wants to share it.”

“Sharing’s for losers and nerds,” Remus waved him off.

“We’re sharing this cake right now?” Roman said, confused.

“We’re the exception,” Remus said, as if that was supposed to be obvious. Roman shrugged and took another bite of cake.

—-

Remus dropped by much more often after that.

Roman couldn’t deny that it was… nice, to see his brother again. Admittedly- though he wouldn’t tell the others- he had missed Remus since he was banished to the Darkness though he had forgotten quite how much. He was pretty certain by this point that Remus had missed him as well, it had been almost two months and Remus had kept showing up in his room, after all.

They didn’t sit in silence, because Remus didn’t do silence, but they sat in relative calm. Every now and then Remus would say something that would either make Roman laugh or recoil or reach over to smack Remus on the arm. Between those instances Remus would whistle or hum and occasionally make random noises. Roman found that while maybe it would be annoying in most other cases, it was actually pretty nice. Usually Roman would fill the quiet by singing, but it was nice to have it filled by someone else for once.

“Hey, I heard the others were gonna do a movie night instead of going out,” Remus said, cutting off something else he was saying- he did that sometimes, got halfway through a sentence and then had another thought, “Are ya going?”

“I- didn’t even know, I suppose they thought I was too busy sulking,” Roman said, slowly, “Wait, how do you know?”

“Well! Now I can get into the light side’s space, I just thought I’d do a bit of eavesdropping!” Remus said with a shrug, “But yeah apparently it’s to do with that thing that happened yesterday.”

“With Rico?” Roman asked, cringing a little, he supposed that had been on all of their minds, and they’d decided not to go to that party only half an hour ago. That’s why Roman was in his room in the first place.

“Mhm,” Remus said, “I’m going, Dee isn’t- he said they wouldn’t want him! But! I stole his hat so he can be there in spirit!”

Remus grinned and produced Deceit’s hat with a flourish, Roman gasped.

“He never takes that off, does he? How did you get it?” Roman asked. Remus cackled.

“I did a sneaky!” he said, passing the hat to Roman, he took it with only slight hesitation.

“Well done,” Roman said with a smile.

Remus jumped up and offered Roman a hand, “Let’s go crash a movie night!”

Roman choked out a laugh, taking Remus’ hand and standing up himself, changing into his onesie as he did so, “Yes, lets.”

“Hell yeah!” Remus grinned, running out of the room with Roman following at a more sedated pace.

The others hadn’t invited him? Well, he and Virgil had been the most affected by the situation with Rico, so maybe the others had decided to leave him alone in case they upset him, but surely they would’ve at least offered? Had they forgotten him? Or deliberately left him out for some other reason?

The movie night was tense, just as everything else between them had been recently. Roman couldn’t help but think it was all his fault for making that decision back in the courtroom. And the wedding hadn’t even happened yet.

—-

“Heyyy Ro- huh?” Remus barged into his room unannounced again, probably through the hole in the ceiling that Roman hadn’t patched up yet. Roman couldn't actually see his brother, considering he was currently buried under a mound of blankets in an attempt to hide from this stupid mess he’d caused.

“Ro?” Remus said, closer now, he patted the top of the blankets, making Roman yelp in surprise- he had been holding his breath in an attempt to stop crying, “You ok in there? What’re you doing pretending to be a bedbug?”

“I- I’m not in the mood right now, Remus,” Roman choked out, he knew from experience that his brother was unlikely to listen, but at least he could say he tried now. He really didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment.

“Ooooh you’re upset…” Remus said, and then he went silent for a minute and Roman thought that maybe he had actually left, if only he could be so lucky, “Ok, so I dunno how to deal with this,”

“J-just go away,” Roman mumbled. Maybe he wished he could cuddle up with Patton or listen to music with Virgil to make himself feel better, but that was pretty much out of the question now, so he just wanted to be alone.

“No can do, bro,” Remus said, “But! I am gonna go get someone who actually can help, ‘kay?”

“Nooo,” Roman groaned. He was once again ignored.

“Good! Don’t go anywhere!”

He heard Remus climb up into the ceiling and skitter off like a rat in the walls and Roman tried to pull himself together while he waited for whoever Remus was going to force into coming here.

Only minutes later Roman heard the telltale swoosh that came with someone rising up in his room and then Remus was patting his blankets again.

“Hey Ro, I brought mental assistance,” He said in a tone that suggested that he was probably grinning. Great.

“I am hardly adequate ‘mental assistance’ Remus,” Oh, great, it was Deceit, “I expect Roman really wants to talk to me, of all sides.”

Damn right.

“Good!” Remus said, giggling, “Now I’m gonna go find Patton’s ‘sad times’ cookie stash and bring them back for us to eat, so you can make Roman feel better whilst I’m gone!”

And Remus disappeared into the ceiling again. Roman heard Deceit sigh.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Roman said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“You think I don’t know that?” Deceit said, “Fortunately, Remus has assigned me to help you, which means if I don’t I’m going to wake up to him boiling mayonnaise or some other, similarly disgusting revenge, so I hope you understand why I must at least try.”

Roman couldn’t help the quiet laugh that forced its way out through the tears.

“May I sit with you?” Deceit asked, sounding a little closer than before. Roman paused, thinking, if he was lucky then maybe he could get a hug after all, even if it was from Deceit who, now that Roman thought about it, probably gave very good hugs considering he had six arms.

“I- sur- uh- okay,” Roman stammered, damnit. He’s supposed to be fearless and brave and powerful, brave people don’t cry about stupid shit.

He felt his bed dip where Deceit sat down next to him.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” He said, in that stupidly soft tone that he had used just that one other time, “Could you come out from under the blankets?”

“I’m a- a mess,” Roman said, trying harder than he should have to to suppress the stutter in his voice.

“That’s not alright,” Deceit told him, “I live with Remus, my standards for what’s considered ‘mess’ are definitely not through the floor.”

Roman couldn’t help but laugh again, trying to wipe away the least of the tears before digging himself out of his blanket pile. When he looked up at Deceit he found his fellow side looking at him with a soft smile, as if seeing Roman in all of his teary glory and somehow made his day better. It sent a pang though his heart, he couldn’t remember the last time any of the others had looked at him like that.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Deceit said, still smiling, he reached for Roman’s face before hesitating at the last moment, he met Roman’s eyes, looking for a confirmation. Roman, in response and because his brain seemed to be struggling to form words at the moment, butted his face against Deceit’s outstretched hand like a cat looking for attention. It made Deceit chuckle and turn his hand to cup Roman’s face properly, thumb brushing away a tear from under his eye.

“Hey,” Roman choked out, unsure how to respond to this whole situation. It was strange, and the voice in his head was telling him to run far, far away from Deceit. Roman chose to ignore it, though, because the voice sounded suspiciously like Patton and Roman had decided recently that he… didn’t really trust Patton’s judgement so much anymore. He leaned into the hand, closing his eyes for a moment and basking in the comfort that one little touch gave him.

He wasn’t touch starved, he couldn’t be- not with Remus for a brother- but he had definitely missed this kind of touch specifically. The kind that just felt safe .

“What’s gotten you all upset, hm?” Deceit asked, swiping his thumb back and forth across Roman’s cheek and oh, he wanted nothing more than to just melt into that touch and stay there forever.

“It’s stupid,” Roman mumbled, leaning into the hand on his face.

“Everything that upsets you is stupid, darling,” Deceit told him, shaking his head. Roman sighed.

“They didn’t invite me to their movie night- or- movie day, I guess,” Roman said, before adding on, “Again.”

“Oh I see, Roman, sweetheart, that’s a completely unreasonable thing to be upset over,” Deceit told him, bringing up another hand so he could cup Roman’s face properly, “When did this start happening?”

“Uh- a few weeks ago… I think?” Roman said slowly, “It was- that time me and Remus stole your hat, was the first time.”

“Ah, I don’t remember,” Deceit nodded.

“And- and there’s been a few times I’ve- caught them, I guess- doing things together without me, too I just- I guess this time was-”

“It pushed you over the edge,” Deceit finished, “Don’t worry, I don’t understand.”

“I- thank you,” Roman muttered, leaning into Deceit’s hands.

“Is there anything that I can do to make you feel any better?” Deceit asked, still just as soft as he had been this whole time.

“Could we… hug, maybe? If that isn’t too weird?” Roman asked after a second, hesitant. He wasn’t sure if Deceit would be ok with that, of course, after everything. Besides, it’s not like he was about to admit how badly he wanted it.

“Of course that’s too weird,” Deceit said, taking his hands away from Roman’s face only to open his arms in invitation, “Come here.”

Roman practically collapsed into the embrace, burying his face in Deceit’s shoulder. Part of him, a small part but still noticeable, was still screaming about how wrong, wrong, wrong this situation was but Roman stamped that small part of him down for now as he buried his face in the soft fabric of Deceit’s capelet. He felt Deceit’s arms wrap tightly around him, squeezing him tightly but not so tight that he felt he couldn’t breath. It was… amazing, possibly the best hug he’d ever gotten.

“You hug good,” Roman mumbled, when Deceit laughed he felt it.

“I am absolutely not glad you think so,” Deceit told him, using another hand to brush through his hair. The touch almost made Roman shudder, “I perfected it with Remus.”

“Really?” Roman asked.

“Mhm,” Deceit hummed, “He likes to be squashed within an inch of his life.”

“Sounds accurate,” Roman said with a small chuckle of his own, “This is nice.”

“It’s slightly less squishy than I would hug Remus,” Deceit admitted, “I thought you might prefer not being suffocated.”

“Thank you, much appreciated.”

They were silent for a moment, Roman simply melting into the embrace he’d wanted for so long, strong arms holding him close, a hand in his hair. Roman found that he really didn’t have a problem with it being Deceit.

“An idea,” Deceit said quietly, “How about, when Remus returns, we have our own movie night?”

“Here?” Roman asked, “I- uh- I don’t have a TV- and this space isn’t big enough for all three of us…”

“The imagination then?”

“I… don’t really have the energy to create us a space right now…” Roman said, face going red with embarrassment. He struggled to conjure when he was upset, he’d never told anyone that, though.

“That’s not alright, darling,” Deceit said, fingers threading through his hair, “If you’d like to have a movie night, we definitely won't be able to find a solution.”

“I… think I would like to do that,” Roman decided, just as the door slammed open.

“Wasssup fuckers!” Remus yelled, stopping in the doorway, “Oh, you two didn’t kill each other! Interesting. Gotta make notes on that social experiment…”

“Why-”

“It’s best not to question it,” Deceit cut him off, “Remus, don’t you think Patton will notice all those cookies are missing?”

Roman finally removed his face from Deceit’s shoulder to look up at his brother, who did in fact have his arms full of cookie packets.

“Ah, who cares?” Remus huffed, “So! What’re we doing?”

“A movie night, I believe,” Deceit answered.

“Oh great! Good thing I have all these cookies, then, huh?” Remus cackled, “Where are we going?”

“That’s what we were trying to figure out,” Roman said, finally pulling away from hug to simply sit on the bed, hands folded in his lap, “I don’t have a TV, the imagination doesn’t- eh- do what I want it to do when I’m upset, and the others are using the commons…”

“We could just use our commons,” Remus shrugged, “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Your commons, as in, the dark side’s mindscape?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Remus tilted his head at Roman.

“But I can’t- go there!” Roman protested, “Isn’t it dangerous?”

Deceit shook his head, “It’s definitely as terrible down there as the others make it out to be. And while there are… others down there, they’ll definitely bother you if you’re with us.”

“Won’t I get trapped if I stay too long?” Roman asked, confused, isn’t that what happened?

“Of course,” Deceit said, “It’s not like I control which sides can and can’t leave. You won’t be fine, I assure you.”

“...Alright then,” Roman said, giving in, “But if you betray me, I will slay you.”

—-

The dark side’s commons were not nearly as bad as Roman had expected them to be. Whilst, yes, they were dark and a little menacing, it was also far more… cosy, than he had expected.

It was still a mirror of Thomas’ house, though there were bigger differences than the light sides had. In place of the blinds and window were large floor to ceiling bookshelves made from some dark wood. The kitchen cabinets seemed to be made from the same kind of wood, decorated with dark grey, giving it much more of a dark-cottage-in-the-woods feel rather than the more modern feel Thomas’ apartment had.

Roman thought it was strange, how welcoming it was. There were spider webs in the shadowy corners, weird ornaments on the bookshelves- one being a severed hand- and a couple of weird stains in the carpet, but somehow none of that served to deter him from the space as a whole.

After waving him over to the sofas, Deceit took a few bowls from the kitchen and placed them on the table to hold Remus’ acquired snacks. They had Roman pick the first film and then chose together for the second. By the third film though, most of the cookies had been eaten and Roman was feeling impossibly tired…

—-

Roman had woken up the next morning to a warmth he wasn’t used to. Remus was snoring, curled up against him on Roman’s left, whilst Deceit was curled up on his other side with one of his arms thrown over Roman’s shoulder.. It felt… protective, somehow, the way the pair had caged him in the middle. He thought maybe he should feel trapped or restricted by the pair, but he couldn’t help that he only thought it was nice.

While he sat there, staring at the blank TV in the semi-darkness of the dark-side’s commons, Roman wondered what time it was. Would Remus and Deceit wake up soon? Or would he have to get up and leave by himself? He really shouldn’t spend too much time down here after all, though Deceit had told him it would be safe, he… couldn’t help but still be suspicious.

He needn’t have worried, though, because Deceit woke up not minutes after him. He had insisted that Roman stay for breakfast before going back up. He’d made pancakes that were just as good as Patton’s had ever been- if not better.

When Roman got back to his room he discovered that his fingernails were painted red though he didn’t remember painting them. How strange.

—-

They started having movie nights down in the darkside’s common every few days. Most of the time it was just him, Remus and Deceit but sometimes Remy joined them as well. It turned out that Remy frequented the darkside’s commons much more often than the light side’s, since it was closer to the subconscious where he worked. Roman didn’t mind a fourth addition to their movie nights, it just meant more snacks.

And then, a month or so later, came the dreaded wedding.

Everyone knows what happened after that.

Roman hadn’t wanted to show face in the first place. Maybe if he had skipped out on the video completely like Virgil had, or heck even somehow limited his participation like Logan had it would’ve been fine, but no, he just had to be there and Patton just had to keep forcing his standards and opinions on him and Thomas. And that was all without being asked for his own opinion.

When Patton had pushed him to answer and he’d eventually given in and tried to explain what he thought his ideas were immediately pushed away, dismissed as not good enough for the moral side because they weren’t exactly what he wanted to hear.

When Deceit replaced Logan, Roman noticed almost immediately. It was just like Deceit to go on a tangent, just rambling any semi related facts that he knew about… hypoxia? Of all things? And besides, Patton skipping Logan (which Roman thought was incredibly rude of him, even if he’d made the same joke earlier) had been the perfect opportunity for Deceit to take his place.

But Patton and Thomas hadn’t noticed, so Roman had just smiled a little and not said anything about it. Maybe he could give Deceit some pointers if he survived this.

Briefly, Roman wondered if this might all just be his fault. What if it was his fault for pretending to be perfect when he obviously was anything but. He wondered if they saw through him, because this was his fault. Not even Thomas could deny that. Patton and Deceit arguing now was his fault, if only he could’ve priorititsed Thomas over himself. If only he had been able to sacrifice his pride. If only Patton could love the real him and not the perfect armour he had built for himself, now so scared to remove. Because they would hate him.

And then that whole fight sequence had made him feel even worse, because Roman couldn’t bring himself to side with Deceit like he wanted to, so badly and he was certain Deceit could tell if the way he continued to glance his way was anything to go by. He wasn’t brave enough to lose Patton’s approval, he wasn’t.

Patton had been distraught afterwards, once he’d shrunk down from that giant frog form, Deceit had started lecturing him again, Logan came back, all whilst Roman was watching in a blur. He didn’t say much, in another world maybe he would have protested, tried to fight back against Deceit for Patton’s sake. All Roman wanted now was to be anywhere else but here.

And then he’d opened his stupid mouth, asked Deceit what the hell they were supposed to do if they were to be selfish when selfishness had already cost him so much. Deceit had sighed.

“Going to the callback was one of the most selfless acts that I believe to be possible- Thomas lost a huge opportunity, not to mention a big hit to his mental health-” Roman tried to hide his flinch at Deceit’s words, “All he got out of it was a new high score in Word Crush.”

“I… know that.” Roman answered, trying to keep his tone even, “But- well- you know how that went for me better than anyone.”

“What d’you mean, Roman?” Patton asked, Roman panicked, glancing at Deceit who sighed and picked up where he’d left off, ignoring Patton and describing the wedding as a ‘net loss’, he talked with Thomas about they had to unlearn their biases about selfishness, all while Roman slipped back into the background, he couldn’t bring attention to himself, not right now. He could feel everything in him, welling up, and he knew that he’d either lash out or burst into tears the moment something happened now. He couldn’t help but wonder which would be worse.

In another world maybe he would have lashed out already, argued with Deceit, questioned when it would be enough. But… Roman had learned, from the time after the courtroom, that Deceit wasn’t evil, he knew things that the others didn’t, that Deceit really wasn’t trying to drive them to ruin, that he really was trying to help . He knew that he really did care, even if he didn’t exactly show it in the most effective way. Deceit wasn’t the one who deserved to feel the brunt of his anger.

Instead Patton asked, much calmer that Roman might have had he been inclined. Patton asked when it would be enough, when they could start helping others and putting more good into the world.

“But how can we trust you?” Patton cried, looking close to tears after Deceit had given his answer, Roman grimaced, surely he could see by now that Deceit was helping, surely he could see by now that Deceit wasn’t evil and wrong.

“I don’t have a simple answer to that,” Deceit said with a sigh, Roman stared at him as he went to remove a glove, “But here’s a start…”

Roman watched as he pulled a glove off by a finger, even in all the time they’d spent together in the last few weeks Deceit had never once done that.

“My name… “ Deceit sighed, “My name is Janus.”

“Janus?” Patton asked, looking nervous. De- Janus looked over at him and Roman realised that he needed to say something anything-

“Janis? Like from Mean Girls?” Roman settled on, he wasn’t quite sure why, but it made the corner of Janus’ mouth twitch upwords slightly, so maybe it wasn’t terrible.

Deceit stared at him for a second, “ No . Janus. With a ‘U’?”

“Oh! That makes much more sense, the two-faced god of doorways, it fits you,” Roman nodded approvingly, Deceit offered him the smallest of smiles and opened his mouth to respond before Patton cut him off before he’d started.

“Now Roman, there’s no need to be rude about it,” Patton said, his chastising tone grating on Roman’s mind to the point where it may as well be nails on a chalkboard, there was that anger again, bubbling and boiling up from where he’d tried to bury it under shed tears and fake, perfect smiles, “Let’s be nice, alright kiddo?”

“I wasn’t.” Roman said, trying to take a deep breath, keep it cool, they can get through this, “Being rude, that is.”

“Then maybe you should watch your tone a little,” Patton said in that same soft tone that made Roman feel like prey trapped by predator, trapped, doomed to fail no matter what he said or did, Patton would always win, “ Janus chose to be vulnerable with us and we should respect that.”

“I know !” Roman cried, and maybe it was an overreaction to such a little thing, maybe he should just apologise for something he hadn’t done and get Patton off of his back, but it also could have been possible that this instance wasn’t the only thing he was referencing, “I know! Ok, I get it, you don’t have to- to keep telling me! I get it!”

“Roman, kiddo-”

“I am not -” Roman said, before taking a breath, it didn’t do much to quell the fire in his chest, “I was there! Patton! All of this, surprise surprise, I just watched it happen just like you did! I wasn’t insulting him.”

“Well then maybe you should apologise, because it certainly seemed that way to me,” Patton said, that smile still plastered on his face. Roman didn’t have a choice, he had to do what Patton said- if he didn’t then- well then maybe he would find that line Virgil had set down all that time ago. Roman thought he didn’t have a choice, but when he glanced back at Deceit, who was watching him with his face etched with worry, Roman thought that maybe he did. He would just have to trust that Deceit would catch him when he inevitable fell.

“No.” Roman said, clenching his fists, though his hands were shaking.

“No?” Patton asked, seeming just as surprised, Thomas looked between them, eyes wide, “What do you mean? Surely-”

“I mean no ,” Roman said, glaring now, all of the anger and sadness he had pushed down and down was bubbling up again, “I will not apologise for something that I did not do, I’m done, ok? You hear me? I’m done fearing the choices I want to make, I’m done weighing your approval against what’s right ! I’m done choosing one over the other.”

Roman was breathing heavily now, hands shaking, Patton frowned at him.

“What do you mean? We’ve made the right choices, you chose in the courtroom-”

“I didn’t choose shit! ” Roman yelled, and he felt like something had snapped in his armour, and from it emerged the dark, ugly thing he had built it to contain, “There was nothing to choose! If I had made the right choice you would have hated me for siding with Janus, you would have- I- I would have lost everything ! But- but I don’t care , anymore, because- because I can’t take it, being perfect for you, making choices for you only to be pushed down even more because that choice ended up being the wrong one over, and over again! It’s so hard , and I’m done. I won’t do it anymore! I’m done doing what you think is right. I’m done trying to be the Perfect Prince you want me to be, I can’t do it anymore..”

“Roman-” Thomas started, but Roman turned on him, anger fading immediately when He saw Thomas’ expression, all that was left was this pulling sense of sadness that seemed to drag at him when he moved. He’d just lashed out, shown them all that he wasn’t the perfect persona he tried to put on. There was no way he could redeem this now.

And part of him didn’t want to, because it had felt… good. To finally let it all out. He didn’t want to go back to the porcelain white armour casing he’d been living in for who knows how long.

“I’m supposed to be your hero Thomas, but I’m not,” Roman said, feeling defeated and out of breath, there were tears already spilling over his cheeks, but he ignored them, “I’m not a perfect Disney Prince, I’m not brave, I’m not selfless and I’m certainly not kind, I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you all wanted me to be.”

And then he sank out, not waiting for a response before leaving them all standing in Thomas’ living room, stunned to silence.

| Next part -> |

#sanders sides #roman sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #darkside!roman #ts roman #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #creativitwins #ts roceit #but its platonic for now

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oneweirdbookaddict · 6 months ago

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Ooooh thanks for the tag! Unfortunately all my wips are in docs and mostly unnamed sooooo I’m gonna list them so it’s more comprehensible 💀

A study in Wars (and his trauma with touch)

Part two of the last fic I posted (unnamed still lmao)

Modern AU (which I’ve never posted any of)

Nightmares

Malon’s love

Sick Fic

Doomed by the narrative

Accidental neglect

Love is a Game (and we both lost)

Strawberries (and stolen kisses)

Silence

A hundred bad days

The eleventh hour

Looking for something dumb to do

Things confessed in the snow

All the things we leave behind

An 8+1

Nightmares

I think that’s all of the ones with a real outline or some writing lol

This is all LU with exception being solely hyrule warriors

Sorry this is also a mess, I really don’t name anything bc I have yet to post on AO3, so a lot of my ‘titles’ are just for me to remember which doc is which fic

Please please PLEASSSEE ask me about my wips 😭I love talking about my writing and ideas and fics and anything I love asks pleaseeeee you’ll never bother me I promise ask me stuff about my fics 😭😭😭

I have like two mutuals sooooo def not tagging that many, but if anyone wants to participate go right ahead! No pressure to do so if I do tag, too :)

@violet27writes @crazylittlejester (sorry ik we’re not mutuals butttt you’re cool 😅) @majorproblems77

If y’all want to do it!

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks for the tag @gia-d! I’ve been wanting to do this one but executive dysfunction/autistic vampirism meant I needed an invitation 🙃

First, I’m only including my current fandoms in this list, so that’s Linked Universe and Four Swords (and maybe a tiny bit of general Legend of Zelda).

Second, PLEASE feel free to ask questions!!! I love talking about my fics!!!

And finally, the fic that's so large it has its own Scrivener project yet somehow doesn't have a name: the Child!Wild AU!

I definitely don't know as many people as I have wips, let alone ones who write. No-pressure tags for the ones I do have: @zarvasace, @akchimp75, @oneweirdbookaddict, @uncleskyrule, @sister-dear, and anyone else who wants to play!

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lightofleia · 2 years ago

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dauntless parties - peter hayes

hi!! here’s another peter hayes fic, which i’ve decided to post in full on tumblr instead of just linking to my ao3. also i’d like to remind everyone that i’m still taking requests!

Word Count: 3,324

Pairing: Peter Hayes x Reader

Description: Peter always comes to you when he’s hurt, tonight is no different. No War AU

Warnings: Very brief sexual references, blood, injury, mention of alcohol.

Music echoed throughout the infirmary, the only sign of the Dauntless party happening a level below, the one you were so unceremoniously disinvited to when you’d been called to work the night shift. It seemed to be taunting you, and as the hour grew darker, and the fluorescent lighting grew stronger, you could feel your own annoyance grow

You supposed you wouldn’t care much if you had any company, but all the beds were empty— Dauntless would rather die than miss a party, apparently— and the other nurses saw no reason to stay when you could clearly hold down the fort on your own. It was just typical, really, for them to do this. What kind of a job was a nurse for a Dauntless, anyways? Someone had to do it, but why you? Of course, you knew the answer; they couldn’t think of a better place to put an Abnegation transfer.

The thought made you groan, throwing down the book you’d been flipping through aimlessly. If they weren’t going to respect you, why should you respect them? There weren't even any patients there, there hardly ever were; no self-respecting Dauntless would be found in the infirmary unless they absolutely needed to be there, and, to their credit, they rarely did.

Besides, tonight was a party, the only people getting hurt were idiots. Idiots who probably didn’t even deserve your attention. Idiots who—

Banging at the door interrupted your internal rant, but before you could even see who was there, Peter came stumbling in, and suddenly you understood the purpose of you being here tonight. Idiots like him, of course.

You could tell the extent of his injuries from the way he smiled at you, goofier than Peter had ever mustered before, or had ever wanted to. Still, he wore that same smug look he always had, and seeing him so bold in such a vulnerable state left you with the urge to roll your eyes. Unfortunately, telling him off would have to wait, overwhelmed by your need to help him— whether that comes from your Abnegation roots or your medical training, you don’t know, but you can’t be bothered to think too deeply about it, especially now— and you find yourself rushing towards him to take a better look at the damage.

“I think I just need some rest,” He says, leaning heavily against the wall as if he intends to fall asleep where he stood.

“You need stitches,” You correct him, ignoring the way he winces as you poke at the gash above his eyebrow. “How did you even get that?”

“Fist fight turned into a knife fight,” Peter groans, allowing you to lead him to one of the beds. He sits on the edge, clutching his side. “Who brings a knife to a party?”

“You do,” You say with an amused sniff. You know fully well Peter is only playing dumb with you because he wants your sympathy, and because he doesn’t want to admit to losing a fight he probably initiated himself. If you knew him, which you did, the other guy was fairly cut up as well, but no one had as good a reason to make a trip to the infirmary than the boy in front of you.

“Just lay down,” You sigh, and he listens, though his pained expression shows it’s not with much ease. You begin to rummage through the cabinet for the supplies you need, watching him from the corner of your eye. It’s been such a long time since you first saw him this way, but the memory feels fresh.

You’d been in initiation together, fought each other even, though fighting you rarely seemed to earn him more than a scratch. Looking back, you figured that had been a good thing. You passed initiation, but not by much, and that kept you off Peter’s radar for the most part.

It had been a fight with Edward that left you caring for him that first time. He had too much pride to go to the actual infirmary, and so you found him tending to his own wounds in the bathroom, late at night.

“Tell anyone about this, and you’ll be dead,” He had said as you wrapped a bandage around his bruised knuckles. His words were so cold that even the memory of them made you shiver.

You knew you shouldn’t have helped him, but you really shouldn’t have continued to do so after Edward lost his eye just a few days later. Peter made no attempt to hide this side of himself from you, but still, it became a habit for you to tend to his injuries, to take care of him. It happened again and again, until his threats disappeared and were replaced with words you could almost call compliments. Even after initiation, he came to you for help. Soon, you realized he would only come to you. Something in you warmed at the thought.

You weren’t sure if you hated the way he made you feel, but you were sure you wanted to. Your wants, however, seemed futile in the wake of his presence, like your caring for him was a tsunami washing over you, swallowing you up.

Even now, as you return to him, he looks at you with his big, doe eyes, and you want nothing more than to punch him. You’re sure he knows what he’s doing (when doesn’t he?) but you don’t say a word.

You unscrew the lid to a bottle of pills the Erudite makes especially for Dauntless fighters, some magic cure-all that your father would probably claim kills brain cells. You hand feed a couple to Peter, to which he has no protest, and you can imagine the looks you’d get if you weren’t alone. The thought makes you laugh to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, blinking up at you through a swollen eye.

“Just you,” You say as you return the pills to their place in the cabinet and lock it. With a second glance at Peter, you realize the Erudite science has proved you useless again, and sigh as you put the needle and thread back too, opting for a bandage instead.

“I thought I was your favorite patient?” Peter asks, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes, but you only scoff.

“Maybe if you got hurt less than twice a week,” You say as you begin to apply ointment to the cut above his eyebrow. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, but doesn’t complain. If you had any less willpower, you might’ve apologized.

“So,” He says, his need to be a nuisance greater than any pain that could be inflicted on him, “What I’m hearing is you hate to see me hurt.”

“You always hear what you want to, don’t you? I hate to see anyone hurt,” You make sure to apply his bandage with a little more pressure than necessary. “It makes my job harder.”

“So cynical,” he tuts, shaking his head. “Have you ever heard of proper bedside manner?”

“Dauntless doesn’t care much about the patient's health, Peter,” You tell him, and he smiles. Of course, it’s that cruelty that made him so fit for Dauntless in the first place.

“Then how come you’re always so sweet to me?” He says sarcastically, and you frown, glaring at him. “When you’re not jabbing at me with a needle or wrapping my bandages too tight, that is.”

“Any jabbing or lack of blood flow is for your own good,” You say, though it’s a struggle not to laugh as you think of the times you’ve had to give him stitches, and how he’d look at the needle like it was a grenade. You were sure he’d rather be looking down the barrel of a gun.

“So you do care?” Peter grins so wide it looks like it must hurt.

“Only as much as I’m required to,” You stand up, making a move away from his side, but before you can take even a step further, he grabs your hand.

“Sit with me a while longer,” He says, pulling you back to where you were. You listen, as if you could even try and will yourself away, and you can tell by the cheeky look on his face that he takes some kind of pride in this.

The build between you had been so slow, you’re not sure either of you could pinpoint when you became aware of his hold on you. It seemed likely he’d known for far longer than you, maybe even since that first night on the bathroom floor. Peter was manipulative, he was cruel, you knew it as well as anyone else, it was completely reasonable to assume he’d been exploiting this little crush you had on him. The thought made you feel sick.

“Are you alright?” He asks, and though you can tell he’s trying to be nice, he still looks at you as if you’ve swallowed a bug. Maybe it’s a symptom of his injured state, or maybe it’s the years of fake niceties catching up with him. Either seems entirely possible.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You say, looking around the room for an excuse to leave his side, though his hand is still clasped firmly over yours, as if he can read your mind. “Maybe you should eat, any alcohol in your system will delay the healing process and food could—”

“I didn’t drink,” Peter interrupts you, and you eye him suspiciously. “Seriously! I don’t trust my drunk self at a Dauntless party, not after what happened last time.”

“I wouldn’t either,” You say, though you’re secretly glad for that reassurance. The few times you had seen Peter drunk made you cringe now, especially the times he found it appropriate to drape an arm around you, whispering incomprehensible innuendos in your ear as you smiled awkwardly at curious passersby and hoped none of your friends found you. Apparently he thought it was amusing to humiliate you, despite all you’d done for him, but you couldn’t be mad at him when any scolding you tried just left him grinning like an idiot. “You’re impossibly annoying when you’re drunk.”

“Really? I thought you liked me hanging off of you,” He sighs, as if disappointed. “Besides, you’re not much better.”

“What?” You ask, the shock so clear in your voice that he laughs.

“You don’t remember?” Peter looks at you with a smirk. “I guess I’m not surprised, you were pretty out of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That party just a couple weeks ago, when the power went out?” You know what he’s talking about, or at least, you heard about it.

“I thought Christina took me home,” You say, though now that you thought about it, the night was too blurry for you to confirm that with yourself.

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “But you’d been dancing with me all night, and when I got back to my place, you were there waiting outside my door.”

“Oh god, we didn’t—?”

“No, no. I told you, I swore off drinking at parties months ago,” Peter shakes his head, and you breathe a sigh of relief. “I just took you home, stayed with you most of the night.”

“Really?” You ask, finding it hard to believe he’d ever do something like that.

“Well, it was free entertainment,” He says with that wicked look in his eye. “You tried to flirt with me for at least a couple hours. I didn’t know you were so persistent.”

You feel yourself go bright red, not able to imagine the things you must’ve said. You’re about to apologize when he stops you.

“I imagine I’m worse though,” He laughs, “With the way you look and all.”

You’re a bit taken aback by that, but he seems unfazed, as if what he’s said is completely normal. He looks at you the way he’s always looked at you, but his words still make your heart beat a little faster, no matter how casual he seems.

“It was nice, though, when you danced with me. It seems like you’re always avoiding me,” He says after we’ve been quiet for a moment. He doesn’t seem sad, or even angry, more just curious, or maybe amused. Like he’s satisfied with his reputation. “Is it because of your friends? Or because of me?”

“You’re not exactly nice to them.” Or me, You consider adding, but don’t.

“Why should I be nice to them?” Peter laughs as if the idea is ridiculous. “I don’t like them.”

“Oh please, you don’t like anyone,” The words taste bad in your mouth, but you know they’re true, and you rip your hand out of his grasp. This is his greatest talent, of course, getting people riled up. He seems to relish in it. “Not even your lackeys.”

“They’re idiots,” Peter says dismissively, and you can’t help but feel wounded. If he thinks of the people he calls friends as idiots, what could he possibly think of you? You must seem like a total pushover to him, and though you hate to care about his opinion, the thought hurts you deep in your core. You feel as if your stomach might turn inside out.

But before you can worry yourself to death, he says, “You're wrong, though.”

You lift your eyebrows and fold your arms across your chest, urging him to go on, but too afraid to open your mouth out of fear of what you might say. You don’t want to stoop to his level.

“I do like some people,” You watch intently as Peter places a hand on your thigh, much more innocently than you thought he was capable of. “I like you.”

When you open your mouth to speak, it’s as if your tongue has been cut out. Your mind is screaming at you to say something, anything, but you simply cannot. This feels as if it goes on for hours before Peter looks at you with the most obnoxious grin, and suddenly, your voice returns, as if your very being simply couldn’t allow him this win.

“Wipe that smug look off your face,” You snap, but he only laughs. “I’m serious.”

“I bet you are,” he says, and though you’d never take this from anyone else, you find yourself only minorly annoyed by Peter, again. Really, if he was anyone else, you probably would’ve killed him by now.

“I should’ve gone to that damn party,” You think back to your inconsiderate coworkers with a glare at the door. “Maybe you wouldn’t have ended up here.”

“I think I would’ve ended up in your apartment instead,” He says, almost wistfully. “Though, it’s not too late for any of that.”

With a glance to the clock on the wall, you see he’s right. It’s not even one yet.

The look he gives you, like always, leaves you wanting nothing more than to even have a clue as to what he’s thinking. At least now, you have a better guess.

“How about this,” Peter starts, a mischievous glint in his eye that leaves you more excited than it should. “I don’t tell your superiors you left your post, and you give me one dance.”

“Nothing explicit,” You add, and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” He says, “But you might not be able to resist.”

You groan in disgust, but as he stands you take his hand and allow him to lead you out of the infirmary.

—

It’s almost funny, the way you walk in together, with your arm looped around his. What’s even more odd is that Peter was the one to insist upon it, but you see its deeper purpose in the looks you receive. You can tell from the skip in his step that he loves the attention.

Despite the fact that you’re completely sober, something comparable to the effects of alcohol had seemed to wash over you in the time it took to walk from the infirmary to the Pit. The worries that have plagued you for months now don’t even cross your mind; the betrayal you took part in every time you helped Peter, your Abnegation background haunting you even past initiation, not even the unexplainable affection you felt towards the boy next to you could weigh on your thoughts now. The music is too loud, the lights are too strong, and Peter is standing too close.

“Peter, what are you doing back here?” An angry voice calls from behind Peter, and, in just a moment, you’re whipped around along with him, face to face with Tris. She looks angry, to say the least, but with Peter’s presence that’s a given. When she sees you, though, her expression becomes unreadable.

“I got fixed up,” He says, gesturing to you, a wide grin spread over his face. You realize Tris is injured too, though far less than Peter is, and it becomes apparent she’s the one he’d fought with. “Figured I better come back with a date, too.”

“I thought you were working tonight,” Tris says, completely ignoring Peter.

“I was,” You admit, “But I couldn’t let him back out here unsupervised.”

“We always end up together at the end of the night anyways,” Peter says, prompting you to jab your elbow into his side.

Tris eyes you up and down, staring at you as if Peter isn’t even there. At first, you worry she’s giving you some kind of death glare, but you quickly realize she’s deciding whether or not to leave you with Peter.

“We’ll see you later, Tris,” You say finally, not giving her any time to reply before you’ve tugged

Peter away from her. A second longer and they might’ve been at it again, and you aren’t gonna end the night without the dance you’d promised Peter.

“So eager,” He says, whisper-shouting in your ear once you’ve read the center of the crowd. All around you are people dancing. or fighting. though some of it is hard to tell apart.

You roll your eyes at him, but don’t make any protest when he pulls you in close. You take cues from the rest of the crowd when it comes to dancing, your heartbeat too loud in your ears to be able to properly hear the music.

This isn’t the soft, romantic dancing you’d heard of Amity couples doing, Dauntless would never allow a slow enough song for that, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, and you can tell Peter feels the same. He keeps you pressed to him so tightly you’re afraid you might melt into one person. You’d expect the sweat between the two of you to make you at least a little bit uncomfortable, but instead it has you excited, so completely aware of every sense despite the fact that all of them are being overwhelmed.

At some point, you find yourselves in the center of a very rowdy group. It doesn’t bother you, really, but you can tell from the scowl on his face that you’re a few seconds away from losing his attention completely.

You place your hand under his chin and turn his head so his eyes are back on you. His gaze softens, though not in the same way it does for strangers and unsuspecting victims. You’re almost sure you’ve got that difference down now, or at least you’d like to think that you would after all the time you’ve spent with him.

“We should get out of here,” Peter says, though you have to read his lips a little to understand him.

“I think you’re right,” You agree, allowing him to tug you away from the Pit entirely.

You suppose you don’t realize where he’s leading you until you’re at his door, but another part of you was sure where the two of you were headed. Either way, you know you aren’t mad about it.

You are, however, surprised when he holds open the door for you.

#peter hayes x reader #peter hayes #divergent fanfiction #divergent #tris prior #insurgent #allegiant #veronica roth

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