#by there’d = bothered whoops

[wlwgang]

God thank you for giving me the grace to not tell the Christian bridesmaid in my sisters wedding ‘if my girlfriend can’t come to this event ur hubby can’t either’ or something in that vein when she asked if he could come to what is our version of the bachelorette

[freeuselandonorris]

❤️ here to request lando/max f, first kiss... pls :)

tysm this is the perfect prompt for nortrell!! i ended up doing a kinda 5+1 here ig? five times they could've kissed and one time they did? idk~

It could have happened years ago, is the thing. Almost has, a couple of times.

There’d been a few nights even back when they weren’t much more than kids, sharing the tiny, basic hotel rooms Ricky Flynn rented out for them after kart races. Nights when they’d watched Naruto on DVD on Lando’s tiny little laptop, cross-legged on the same bed, and Lando would rest his head on Max’s shoulder to see the screen better, so close his breath warmed Max’s cheek. 

Or the first night out they’d had after Lando signed his F1 contract. They’d gone out drinking – the last big night, Lando said, because he’d have to be good from now on, had a reputation to think about – with Theo and a group of Lando’s other mates, some Max knew, some he didn’t. It had all been a bit of a blur after the sambuca shots, apart from the feeling of Lando’s arms around his neck as Max spun him round, whooping. Half a dickhead attempt to make him sick, half genuine delight. Lando’s mouth had smeared wet and slick across Max’s cheek, over his top lip. Max’s breath had stuttered in his chest and he’d dropped Lando from his arms. Lando had bumped his chin off Max’s shoulder, spilling his vodka cranberry down Max’s arm in the process. 

And there’d been lockdown, of course, when they’d seen barely anyone but each other for months on end and sometimes it hadn’t seemed to matter much what they did, because nothing was ever going to be the same anyway. The nights they’d fallen asleep curled in the same bed. Waking with Lando’s sweaty face pressed into the hollow between Max’s shoulder blades. The way Lando stopped bothering to shut his bedroom door fully even when he was wanking, and Max just got used to the sound of his soft, hitching breaths as he walked past to go for a piss. Their tangled limbs on the sofa. Entire days spent watching the Fast and the Furious movies in chronological order because there was fuck all else to do. Lando running his toes idly up and down Max’s bare calf.

The closest they’d come – the most dangerous night of all – had been after everything went tits up with Luisa. Halfway through a night of pizza and self-recrimination, where Max hadn’t done much but occasionally say hmm and yeah but you know what girls are like, mate, Lando had turned to him with a wild and desperation expression and said I just want – I want to not feel like this for a bit, I want to not have any thoughts. I want to not think about it. Max had swallowed hard and patted his knee, shuffled off to the fridge and returned with beers.

Lando’s career goes from strength to strength. Their paths cross every few months. Every time, Max feels the phantom pull of their bodies. Lando’s eyes on his face, tracing a well-worn path from his eyes to his mouth and back again.

Max realises he can’t remember any of the reasons why this is a bad idea.

When he finally lets it happen, it’s almost an anticlimax. There’s no reason for it. No special occasion. Just Max, on Lando’s sofa in his untidy Monaco apartment that smells of cleaning products and cologne. Stone cold sober, apparently in full possession of his sanity. Turning to Lando midway through PSG v Dortmund extra time, and pressing their mouths together. Simple as that.

It’s soft. Just a gentle touch of their lips. He feels Lando’s inhale, the tiny wet point of his tongue-tip. 

He pulls back just enough to look Lando in the eye. Lando blinks. He doesn’t look shocked. 

“Mate,” he says, a breathy giggle. “What took you so long?”

[souperbloom]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR3Bwg74/ yesssss sir🫡

i know where your head’s at anon. trust me.

the tiktok of ash talking crazy during the valentine genius interview can be found here.

————

cherry pie. [A.I.]

🍒 boyfriend!ash

valentine’s day smut. tee hee.

a/n: happy belated valentine’s day soup nation <3 sorry for my inactivity. school has been whooping my ass but i promise ill be back soon ! :3

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, oral (f!receiving), pet names, overstim.

WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

It wouldn’t take long for Ashton to figure out what your Valentine’s Day surprise held in store.

Your body, at his disposal, splayed out on his plush king-sized mattress; dressed head to toe in red lace and satin. You were like a gift-wrapped present, tied up with a little red bow.

It was everything you’d been dreaming about since the moment you saw that little red set in the window of your local lingerie shop. The perfect surprise for the most perfect boy.

"Ash, baby?" you call into the distance as you hear the shower turn off from the master bathroom.

After dinner, you told Ashton you’d rather head home and unwind, as opposed to going out and getting an after-dessert drink. And of course, despite putting up a bit of a fuss about it, your boyfriend agreed.

You told him to hop in the shower and get ready for bed: setting the expectation that there’d be no sugar tonight, and all you really wanted to do was cuddle in bed and watch a movie.

The disappointment laced through his features when you told him what you wanted from him was quite obvious. But since he had fussed enough about not going to the bar, he figured a little less bitching would do him some good on this special day.

It was hard enough for you to bite back your smile while lying in his face, already knowing what would be waiting for him after his shower.

"Yeah?" He finally replies from the bathroom, the echo of his voice bouncing off of the tiles and into your ears.

"You comin’ in soon?" you ask, hints of innocence in your question as you adjust your position to fit the steamy energy you were trying to exude.

"Yeah, yeah— gimme a minute. I’ll be out before you know it, sugar.”

You couldn’t see it, but you could practically hear the smile that sprawled across his face within his lewd reply. He knew how much you adored that nickname.

Maybe he had a better clue than you thought.

A few more minutes pass you by, subtly quiet music streaming from the TV filling you with anticipation. You couldn’t want to see the look on his face when he walked out to you like this. It took you long enough to find a set of lingerie as perfect as this one; only to have to speedily change into it the moment you heard the faucet turn on.

"Baby," you whine, faux impatience woven into your tone, "M’gettin’ tired."

You hear Ashton scoff playfully, slightly seeing his bare silhouette through the mirror as he takes a towel to his head to dry his hair off.

"I’m coming, I’m coming—" he coos, the towel still covering his head as he begins to whistle.

You dip your head back into the pillows for a moment, letting out a satisfied sigh. Seeing his body in the mirror was already getting you hot and bothered, not to mention the button-down shirt and leopard print jacket combo he had decided on wearing to dinner tonight. The thought of him drove you wild; and you were more than happy to submit to that.

Soon enough, Ashton emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and tucked into itself, accentuating his physique. Along with the other towel that was still on his head, causing him to lead himself back into the bedroom blindly.

"So I was thinking we could watch—"

His thought stops in its’ tracks the moment he slides the towel off of his head.

"—Holy shit."

When his eyes meet yours, they double in size instantly. There’s a longing in his gaze, as if seeing you whipped him through the space-time continuum and barely brought him back down to Earth.

"Oh, baby," he hums, his eyes continuing their journey down your body and taking you in, in all of your crimson, lace glory, "You’re too good t’me."

"Happy Valentine’s Day, Ash," you purr, running a seductive hand up your thigh and letting your index finger collect the fabric of your satin slip.

"My God. What am I to do with you, sugar? Wrapped up all pretty n’ nice for me… Fuck, you’re wearing the hell outta’ that thing, baby…"

His lovesick babbling continues as he nears the bed, dipping his knee down into the mattress. Your eyes still lingered on him, bottom lip caught between your teeth as the two of you have an erotic stare down.

"Do whatever you want t’me. This is your gift, after all." Your coy smile grows wider as he slowly starts to crawl towards you.

"Whatever I want, you say?" He repeats your question as if the answer wasn’t obvious, "I’m not sure if you’re ready for that."

His body now hovers over yours, savoring his last few glances before he tears you out of this outfit and has his way with you. You knew he’d get you out of it faster than you’d gotten into it.

"I’m ready for anything. I’ve waited all fuckin’ week for this." You giggle up into his sparkly fern eyes as he’s now fully on top of you, eyeing you like you were the last cookie in the cookie jar.

"All week? Jesus, baby… If I knew you were gonna’ get dolled up like this I’d have thrown a Valentine’s Day in January." His playful remark sends a chill down your spine as he takes the back of his hand and caresses your cheek.

"I’d get dolled up every night for you, you know this. Just thought I’d save it for a special occasion."

His hand begins a trail down your collarbone towards your chest, "I had a feeling you were up to somethin’. You had that look in your eye."

You chuckle, trying to ignore the moan threatening to spill from your lips, "What look?"

"The look you have when you’re up to no good. You’re a pretty shit liar," he teases.

"Well, I’d say I pulled this surprise off successfully, shit liar or not— That’s all I was really hoping for."

"Successful is an understatement, sugar. You look sweet enough to eat…" He hooks his finger onto the fabric between your breasts, tugging it down gently. "…Sweet like cherry pie."

Not another moment passes before Ashton is dipping down to wrangle you into a passionate kiss. His hands roam with fervor, feeling the contours of your body with his broad palms and taking breaks to gently squeeze the parts he loves most.

His tongue entwines with yours seamlessly, as he makes a sly effort to grind his hips down between your inviting thighs. You sigh into his mouth, lacing your arms around the back of his neck.

"Fuck me, baby, you’re obscene," he sighs, breaking the kiss momentarily to leave a trail of kisses down your neck towards the valley of your breasts, "Think I might have to have a slice of my cherry pie."

You nod as if to say, ‘duh, Ash', wordlessly consenting to his request. He always aimed to please you, despite sometimes being sent to bed unrewarded. But he was such a good sport about it; you sometimes believed that he preferred giving as opposed to receiving.

Generous. There’s the word for it.

"This outfit is gorgeous," he sighs dreamily between kisses trailing down your stomach, "I feel bad takin’ it off so soon."

You shake your head, an electric current shooting up your body as his kisses start to near towards the apex of your thigh. "Don’t feel bad, it’s served its’ purpose."

"Was it’s ‘purpose’ to drive me insane? Because— it’s doin’ a great job at that."

You shrug playfully, enjoying the fiery path of destruction that this little get-up was causing in your sweet boyfriend’s head. He could barely contain his excitement as he parted your legs, gazing at you hungrily with a smirk. His slender fingers then hook onto waistband of your panties, pulling them down and off of you at a tantalizingly slow speed.

"Gonna give you my hand. Squeeze when it’s too much for you, m’kay?"

You nod down at his mellow smile, and grab his extended hand as he positions himself.

"Mhm."

With a sigh, he caresses your inner thigh gently, taking in the sight of you. It was hard enough to be patient after he had promised something he was sure would drive you crazy; you knew him well, but not well enough.

You were sure he had some tricks up his sleeve.

"’Gonna make you feel so good…"

His gravelly voice trails off as he lowers his mouth to your core, lips hovering inches above where you needed him most. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t growing a bit impatient.

"Yeah?" you taunt, rubbing your thumb in circles over the back of his hand, "You’re all bark, no bite."

He chuckles lowly, still leaving patterns across the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, "And you’re gonna regret having such a smart mouth, sugar."

Without warning, he dips his head down and licks a stripe up your slit, gathering the wetness on his tongue with a sly smile. You groan on impact, naturally, watching his sandy curls scatter across his forehead with his movements.

You almost regretted what you said when he started to prod at your entrance with his tongue, letting his nose do all the work on your clit for him. It felt like a sensory overload; he had always shown his love for pleasuring you but, never to this magnitude.

"Ash, oh fuck—" your words come out choppy, staccato breaths breaking apart each syllable as your free hand flies to grip his hair. He hums into you in reply, the vibration from his baritone voice causing a ripple through his tongue to rip right through your lower half.

You start to writhe above him as his tongue works in tandem with the tip of his nose, all while peering up at you over your silky lace babydoll dress.

"Fuck, baby. F-feels so good," you groan, attempting to keep your eyes from lulling closed. The eye contact between you was far too mesmerizing to pull away from.

Upon hearing your sultry compliment, Ashton begins to move faster. He switches the focus to your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue quickly and causing another wave of pleasure to shoot through your limbs.

His free hand then moves to push up the fabric of your slip, resting his palm flat on your stomach while his mouth moves in circles. Your body lurches forward when he hits a particularly sweet spot, the pleasure almost becoming too much to bear.

You remembered briefly what he had told you about his hand… ‘squeeze when it becomes too much.’

So, you did.

It was too much.

Your heart rate was doubling and it was growing difficult for you to keep the stars away from the backs of your eyelids. You knew you were close to your limit.

But when your grip tightened around his hand—

He didn’t stop.

In fact, he began to move even faster. His eyes shimmered as he peered at you above your hips, watching your jaw fall slack as you’ve now lost any ability to keep your composure.

"Fuck, oh my god. Please—" you beg, mushing into a whining mess, "Ashton, please."

His ears perk up at your exasperated plea, quickly ripping his hand from your grasp and using it to replace his tongue. He pops his head up, upper lip and chin drenched in your juices as he studies you with a pout.

"Can ya’ give me a few more minutes, sugar? Tastes so fuckin’ good…"

As his skilled fingers move in place of his tongue, he makes sure not one moment of your time is unoccupied. He uses his thumb on your clit to draw moans out of the back of your throat; index finger dipping in and out of your entrance.

"B—but… It’s too… too much…" you whimper, interrupted by your own moans betraying you, "M’ so close…"

"Please? I’ll go slow…" Ashton pleads, starting a gentle trail of kisses onto the inside of your thigh, "Not gonna be too much for you, sugar… ‘Said I could do whatever I wanted… Just need a few more minutes t’ taste you, my love."

You open your mouth to reply, but the sound of your voice is replaced by a pitchy moan as he dips that index finger fully inside of you. He curls it upwards and starts that familiar ‘come hither’ motion, creating pressure in your tummy and bringing you to cry.

"O—okay…" you mumble meekly, "F—few more minutes."

Ashton lets out a quiet chuckle at your words; finding the audacity to smile before he’s diving back in to indulge in you. You no longer had control over your shaky limbs, nor any control over the loud expletives tumbling from your lips. The sounds of your wetness boom through your head, as that familiar feeling begins to creep up on you.

"Ashton, baby— gonna’ cum… Gonna’ cum really soon…" You try your hand at warning him; but he was one track minded. He kept his pace, never faltering, using his fingers and tongue in cohesion with one another to send you hurdling towards the finish line.

As he savors his last few tastes of you, he groans in delight. The sounds of his smug satisfaction are just what you need to fully push you to the brink of your orgasm.

"Fuck, Ash! Oh, shit—"

Your pleas were merely encouragement for Ashton. His rhythm continues to pick up speed, climbing and climbing until galaxies were fogging your vision and your legs were tensing up.

"Ashton!"

The final shout of his name had you doubling over in ecstasy, yet his tongue continued on, as did his fingers— you were relishing in the feeling of your orgasm as the butterflies once encaged in your abdomen had set loose and began fluttering throughout your body. He rode you through your high with a final few kitten-licks to your clit, for good measure.

The tension in your shoulders and thighs had finally cracked once his movements came to a slow. Your breathing, heavy and labored, started to readjust to the oxygen levels back down on Earth.

"Ashton… oh— oh my god," you sigh, watching as your boyfriend tenderly starts to massage your jittery legs after he had practically sent you into orbit.

"I know, right?" He smirks confidently at your airy reply, pleased with his ability to ruin you so effortlessly.

You can’t help but giggle, listening to the thunderous beating of your own heart through your chest. He moves to comfort you instantly, kissing your thigh gently before resting his head in its’ place, "Dinner and dessert for Valentine’s Day? What a lucky guy I am…"

"The luckiest, I think," you hum, petting his head with a smile, "We should celebrate holidays like this more often."

Ashton chuckles, reaching up to interlock your fingers before planting a kiss on your knuckles.

"Got time for another round, sugar? President’s Day is right around the corner."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[fictionfixations]

khr hanami rarepair

forgot i should make a post about this

only did the first two days because i had zero clue wtf to do with day 3. whoops

Pairing: Byakuran/Sawada Tsunayoshi

Day 1 March 22 - New Life | Garden

Byakuran at his core was a selfish person. He’d never acted on it, but it still existed, even if he acted like it didn’t. Possessive over his own things bled into his other selves, and his other selves bled into him. People he had no right to claim as his. ..People he had no right to love or be loved by. But he was also an impulsive person by nature. And the one thing that they’d never really had, was someone always viewed as unattainable. The truth was, a lot of Bykaurans had fallen in love with a certain Sawada Tsunayoshi. A passing interest became a longing that threatened to consume him whole. He wanted the mafia boss, yet distrust met him at every step. Maybe it was masochistic, that the one they’d chosen had been one they harmed so dearly, harmed their precious people, but Tsuna had been so bright. Shining like the sun’s gaze was beaming straight at him, Byakuran wanted it all for himself. Wanted to take it. Steal it. To only have that gaze on himself. Even though he knew that the moment his other selves would get even a whiff of what Tsuna’s affection felt like, it would only get even more unbearable.

Day 2 March 23 - Renewal | Thaw

Tsuna was in a bit of a pickle. Well, to give some context, there’d been a school trip to a flower viewing event (there were crowds everywhere). He hadn’t been that interested, but he’d be an idiot to skip when everyone would be too distracted to go bother him. Especially when it was literally a free off day. Thus, he resigned himself to being lonely for all of eternity. At least the view was nice. Which is where he’d noticed a white-haired guy, which, huh. ------ Tsuna stumbled, face planting onto the railing. Around him, he could hear people burst into laughter. Don’t cry, Tsuna. Don’t. He sniffled, the sting bringing tears to his eyes anyway. No matter how much he got hurt, he could never develop a tolerance. “Alright class, I know how much of a distraction Dame-Tsuna is, but remember to stay with your buddy. If you don’t remember who your partner is, come talk to me, I have a clipboard.” The brunette blinked in confusion at the teacher’s voice. Hadn’t he already informed them when they first arrived? He looked around once more, only to flinch at the sight of purple eyes staring at him from a distance.

[deathfavor]

@kyukicho​ said: You said you were hungry, so I brought you some food ( Senju & Hanma )

from a meme i forgot whoops

  The stupefied expression on Hanma’s face must have prompted the explanation that is offered as Senju stands there, holding out a bag of takeout towards him. He supposed he had said that. That didn’t mean he’d actually expected anything to come from it though. It had just been a casual, indifferent response to the question on how he was.  

  “ Aw, you spoil me! “ Hanma croons with a slightly forced cheerfulness as he accepts the offered bag and pushes away the strange sensation in his chest that takes root.

  Except it doesn’t go away because when he opens the bag, he’s made immediately aware of the fact that all of it is what he orders from that restaurant. It’s not like his order is the most obscure thing, but some of the dishes aren’t particularly popular either and wouldn’t be what someone just guessed. Which means she’d been paying attention. It shouldn’t strike so much of a cord, but it does. He’s not the kind of person who people remember the details of. They remember him because he pisses them off. They remember long limbs and deceptively thin appearance that hides a brutal strength and even more monstrous endurance and stamina level. They remember his sing-song taunts and smug grin. They DON’T remember Hanma’s favorite meals or the brand he most often smokes or mundane details like that.

“ Hanma? “

  Hanma is snapped out of his thoughts as he hears Senju’s voice and offers what he hopes is a convincingly assured smile in response.

 “ Don’t mind me ~ I was just admiring the bounty.  “  Hanma answers as he pulls out the feast. No matter how much he ate though, Hanma never seemed to put on any weight.

  He tucks into the food, his stomach growling to remind him of the fact he is hungry despite the fact he hadn’t been bothered to get up to get food himself. Sometimes there are moments like that. Where he can barely be bothered to do something that he knows he should. Once there’d been a voice to call for him. Now? His chewing slows and then he shoves it all away to focus on Senju instead.

  “  You want some?  “  He offers, holding up one of the gyoza towards her with his chopsticks, grinning. “ Say aaah ~ “  A playful encouragement as he holds it just out of reach.  

[spittyfishy]

*deep breath* i'm gonna do it. i'm gonna ask

remnant kokichi

I think Kokichi would have had to have been one of the first to fall, he’s very smart and very clever, and could have been a Huge thorn in Junko’s side if she didn’t take care of him quickly. (For anyone interested, I think this is the order the class fell to despair, based off who was needed for people later on: Tsumugi, Kaito, Kokichi, Miu, Maki, Tenko, Angie, Kiibo, Suichi, Ryoma, Himiko, Gonta, Kirumi, Korekiyo, Kaede)

One of the first things Junko has him do is kill the ten members of his organization. They’re his closest friends, practically family! The despair he’d get from their deaths would be astronomical! (Speaking of lol, I forgot to mention it in his own post, but Kaito absolutely killed his grandparents when he fell to despair). I think both of those events happened before the tragedy while everyone was still in school. There’d have been investigations of course, but why would anyone think Kaito or Kokichi would do something like that to their own loved ones?? Plus between Tsumugi, Junko, Mukuro, and Miu they’d be able to come up with fake alibi’s to eliminate themselves from the suspect lists.

(Tbh I could totally see probably Kaito asking Suichi to take on the case and help avenge his grandparents and help him get closure, only to finally discover the truth of the case and that Kaito was the culprit as a way to trigger Suichi into despair himself! Junko helping of course but that being the inciting incident would be Awesome lol)

Kokichi and Kaito both being some of the first to turn also kinda lends itself to the dynamic I mentioned in Kaitos post. Those two are constantly annoying each other and are in a very destructive prank war lol. Pre despair it would mostly have been just Kokichi being a little shit like he is to Kaito in game, but once despair is added to the mix things start to ramp up. The rest of the class would be a little concerned at how much meaner they seemed to become towards each other, insults that cut the other down to the bone, tripped down the stairs or shoved a bit too hard to be friendly, upping the anti with more and more extreme pranks. But both of them would just laugh all that stuff off afterwards, so surely nothing must actually be wrong- right?

(They were in fact not right.)

As a full fledged remnant post tragedy, Kokichi runs a huge organization, just like he always lied about. Corrupted and rebuilt DICE from the ground up with much more sinister goals, those being as much global despair as possible!! Kokichi is one of the most influential remnants, right up there with Kirumi, Ryoma, and Angie for pure follower count. They’re agents of chaos, and a constant bother for the Future Foundation.

This mostly became about Kaito more than Kokichi lol, whoops! Kokichi’s ping ponging between emotions is likely to mirror Junko herself, and practically every word from his lips is a lie. He’d be an absolute nightmare to try and interrogate lol.

For his design I went with a court jester motif, due to his chaotic nature and as a way to sort of catch his enemies off guard, because surely this clown couldn’t be the one in charge! The yellow and red were colour picked from the buttons on Kokichi’s cannon outfit, and the checkered cape is of course to match his regular scarf.

[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || vii

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. through a few strange twists of fate, you’ve ended up living with the very boy who’d broken your heart. but, perhaps it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be. he is the perfect gentleman, after all. 

warnings: f!reader, depictions of intoxication

wc: 5.2k

m.list |  ch. 6 ↞ ch. 7 ↠ ch. 8

You peered at yourself in the mirror, doing your best to not crinkle your makeup.

It’d been a while since you’d bothered to dress up this nicely.

You were just wearing a simple yet flattering black dress, offset by your favourite shade of red lipstick. You weren’t sure if you actually looked good, or if it was just nicer than anything else you’d worn that week.

You’d sent a photo to Amaya, but upon receiving her affirmation you started to doubt the authenticity of it. Not that she’d given you reason to; no, you’d just decided that she was far too supportive to trust for an objective opinion.

You sighed, tilting your head to the side as you looked at the mirror.

Whatever, you thought. This’ll just have to do.

“I’m ready!” You called out, slipping into the front room after grabbing your handbag.  

“Give me a moment,” Iwaizumi called out. The tinniness of his voice implied that he was still in the bathroom.  

You sighed, taking a moment to check the contents of your bag. Phone, wallet, lipstick, mirror… That’s all you’d need, right?

“You got everything?” Iwaizumi asked, almost as if he’d appeared out of nowhere.

“Mhm!” You smiled, looking up at him.

You wondered, for a moment, if there was something on your face.

He was staring at you, his eyes a little wider and rounder than usual.

You tilted your head at him. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” He blinked at you for a second, as if your words had shocked him back to the present moment. His eyes scanned your body slowly before lingering on your face again. “You look good.” 

You hoped your foundation masked the heat rising in your cheeks.

It’s frustrating, how hot he looked without even trying. He was just in a black button up (the top few buttons undone, of course) and a pair of jeans, and yet he looked like that. He’d barely done anything to his hair, either; just a bit of gel, from the looks of things.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked, finally breaking the excruciating silence.

“Yeah,” you nodded. Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime with his stupid face and his stupid black button up and his stuck jeans and his stupid—

“I’ll drive,” he said, patting his jean pocket.

“Oh, are you sure?” You asked. “You don’t want to drink?”

“It’s fine. Someone’s got to keep an eye on you,” he grinned, throwing you a wink.

“Hey!” You whined. “You haven’t even seen me drunk!”

“Oh, so you do intend on getting drunk then?” He chuckled, heading for the apartment door.

You gaped for a moment, searching for a comeback. “Well, you’re the one who said that uni parties are for getting shit-faced.”

“That doesn’t mean you should get shit-faced, though.”

You rolled your eyes as you followed him. “Whatever you say, dad.”

✧ ✧ ✧

You hadn’t known what to expect from your first visit to a rooftop bar, but suffice to say you were impressed. When you’d asked Iwaizumi how the club had the budget to book somewhere this nice, he’d just shrugged.

“A lot of Japanese students, I guess,” was his only explanation.

Upon paying twenty-five dollars to officially ‘join’ at the door, you started to formulate a strong theory as to just where the club was getting its money.

There were far more people here than you’d anticipated. You knew it would be big, you hadn’t expected it to be this big. People were packed in like the clothes in your wardrobe, barely giving each other room to breathe. It was a sea of completely unrecognisable faces – and yet, seeing all these people who looked and sounded like you made you feel a little more at ease.

The music – which seems to be a mix of songs you don’t recognized – thumped loudly throughout the area. You wondered if there’d be any noise complaints.

Iwaizumi led you to the bar, managing to find two seats. You weren’t entirely sure how; you mostly chalked it up to the providence of God.

“I’m just going to go to the toilet, okay?” Iwaizumi said. “You’ll be alright on your own for a second, right?”

You nodded. “Don’t worry about me!”

Iwaizumi gave you a look as if to say ‘that’s impossible.’

You fought the urge to stick your tongue out at him. That would only elucidate his point.

After a few more moments of staring (under which you thought you were going to crumble to dust), Iwaizumi eventually disappeared into the crowd.

You sighed, placing your hands in your lap.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what to do. You felt it only right to stay where you were, mostly to avoid giving Iwaizumi a heart attack should he come back and see you weren’t there. But, you didn’t have the confidence to order a drink, either. Or get the bartender’s attention.

“Hey.”

A voice that somehow managed to make itself heard over the music startled you out of your thoughts.

You whipped your head round, only to see a guy you’d never met before sitting in Iwaizumi’s seat. He had soft features framed by a strong chin and wavy brown hair. If you had to guess, you’d say he was around your age.

“Hey,” you said automatically, relieved at the fact that he’d greeted you in Japanese.

“You speak Japanese?” He smiled.

“You’d assume so,” you smiled back. “Seeing as I’m here and all.” You gestured to the room around you. Underneath the music, you could make out a bubble of conversation – most of which was Japanese.

“Hey, a lot of second-gen immigrants don’t necessarily learn the language,” he shrugged. His entire demeanour was so… good-natured. So polite. Even if he had taken a seat without asking.

“Oh, really?” You hadn’t known that. Albeit, it wasn’t really something you’d thought about too much.

“Mhm,” he nodded. “I mean, that’s what my friend told me.”

“Ah,” you said.

“I’m Kohei, by the way,” he gave you a little nod.

You returned it as you introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you,” he grinned. “What year are you in?”

“First,” you said. “I only got here a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh!” His face lit up. “Me too!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I’m from Tokyo!”

“Ah, so you’re a city boy,” you smiled.

He blushed a little. “Well, uh…”

“I’m from Miyagi,” you cut in. “Although, I did go to Sendai every now and then.”

“Oh, I never got the chance to visit,” he smiled. “What made you come to America?”

“I wanted to study psychology,” you answered. “I thought the options would be better here.”

“Ah,” he nodded. He had the sort of eyes that made him look like he was deeply engaged in whatever you were talking about.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Oh, I just wanted to come here for the adventure,” he said sheepishly.

“The ‘adventure’?” You smiled, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” he nodded. “I thought it would be cool. But… English is a bit tricky, isn’t it?”

You laughed. “Oh, yeah…”

A squeal of your name cut through the crowd.

You turned, bewildered and a little frightened.

“Hi!” Yuna beamed, throwing herself at you.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around her. From the flush in her cheeks, you could tell she’d already had a few.

“I’m so glad you came!” She whined. “And you look so pretty!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So do you!”

Yuna whined again, drawing back to pout at you. “Why didn’t you come and find me immediately?”

“I didn’t know you were here,” you laughed.

She narrowed her eyes at you. “Fair enough…” Her gaze snapped to Kohei, her glare getting more intense. “And who is this?”

“This is Kohei,” you said, leaving them to introduce themselves to each other.

You scanned the crowd, a frown forming. Where was Iwaizumi? He’d been gone a while… Or did it only feel like a while? If Yuna dragged you away, it may be hard to find him and assure him that you were okay, because you just knew he’d be developing an aneurism…

You caught sight of him. He gave you a tiny wave, an expression that looked something like relief on his face. That look alone was enough to soothe you.

Tonight was already shaping up to be a good time.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Can you stand?” Iwaizumi asked, watching you with an expression of disgruntled concern on his face.

“Yes,” you said with far too much emphasis. You pointed at him with one very obstinate finger.

Kohei had bought you a drink, and Yuna had challenged you to a line of shots. Mei had pointed out that perhaps you shouldn’t go overboard. You’d been adamant that you knew your limit. That’d been a big fat lie.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, taking a step towards you.

“Yes!”

As soon as you said it, you toppled left.

Iwaizumi grabbed you by your shoulders, stabilizing you.

“Whoops,” you pouted.

He sighed, releasing you. “You alright?”

You blinked at him for a second. “Iwa…”

“Mhm?”

“I don’t think I can stand.”

Iwaizumi bit the inside of his cheek. He was trapped somewhere between annoyance and burgeoning fondness.

“Alright,” he said, standing at your side. “Let me help.”

“Thank you,” you hummed, beaming at him as he leant down to drape one of your arms across his shoulders.

You leant your entire weight against him without warning.

He grunted, one arm grabbing your waist to keep you on your feet. “Careful now.”

“Sorry,” you whined. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” Iwaizumi smiled, shaking his head. “Let’s get you back to the car, alright?”

“That is an excellent plan, Iwa. You should be proud.”

Oh, fuck, he thought. He just couldn’t keep that smile off his face.

✧ ✧ ✧

By some miracle, he managed to get you to the car in one piece.

Even better, the drive home had been relatively uneventful. You’d just babbled on about why Riza Hawkeye from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood was, in fact, the perfect woman. Iwaizumi had just smiled, nodding along whenever he was required to.

You still needed support getting up the stairs to your apartment; when you tried to take matters into your own hands, you always managed to trip.  

But, finally, he’d gotten you both inside the house, your arm still draped over his shoulders and his arm still wrapped around your waist. It was, quite frankly, almost too much.

Iwaizumi sighed, opening your bedroom door with his free hand.

“But Iwa,” you whined, pouting up with him. “I need to have a shower.”

“You can’t stand up straight,” he chuckled. “You can have a shower in the morning.”

“But I’ve gotta wipe my makeup off,” you droned. “Or else I’ll get a breakout.”

“Hm…” He scanned your room, settling on the clutter of makeup on your desk. “Do you have anything you can wash your face with?”

The idea of you trying to stabilize yourself in the shower gave him more anxiety than he was comfortable with. You shouldn’t wake up with both a hangover and a concussion.

“Wipes?” You blinked, pointing at your desk.

Iwaizumi took a moment to find them. He assumed it was the little green packet that didn’t look familiar to him.

“Thanks,” you beamed up at him as he passed them to you.

He tried his best to ignore the squeezing in his heart as he noticed how your eyes sparkled as you looked at him.

You ignored him for a moment as you dealt with your makeup.

He looked away out of respect, eyes landing on the collage of photos stuck above your desk. He ambled towards them mindlessly, gazing at the myriad of images.

There were many faces he recognized. Tooru, Amaya, your mother, Kaori… He realised, not without a strange sharpness in his chest, that he only featured in a single photo. It was one from his graduation; one that you were both ‘obligated’ to be in.

But he knew his absence from these photos was his own doing. If he just hadn’t had been such an idiot, then…

“Is it gone?” You asked.

He turned back to you, biting back a laugh. “Uh… not quite.”

Your lipstick, which had already been in a poor state, was smeared all around your mouth, looking more like a rash. Your foundation was splotchy, some patches mostly removed and others untouched. And to top it all off, your mascara had been melted into a muddy puddle beneath your eyes.

Overall, you looked a bit like a raccoon he’d caught eating beetroots out of his garbage.

You whined, lying back on your bed.

“It’ll be fine,” he chuckled. “It’s just one night.”

“No, you don’t understand,” you emphasized, “makeup is bad for your skin.”

Iwaizumi grinned, grabbing what he assumed to be your pyjamas from the end of the bed and tossing them to you. “You’ll feel better if you change into something more comfortable.”

You glared at him from your horizontal position, the expression emphasised by a couple extra chins.

Iwaizumi left the room quickly and closed the door, making a beeline for the kitchen. He prepared you a glass of water, going through the checklist in his head of how to take care of someone well over their limit.

When he got back to your bedroom door, he was sure to knock.

He took the garbled ‘mhm!’ he got in response as affirmation.

He opened the door slowly, peeking round the door to see you sat cross-legged on the bed with a pout. From the looks of it, you’d put your top on backwards.

His heart thumped in that terrifyingly familiar way.

“Drink this,” he mumbled, handing you the glass.

You nodded, taking it with both hands and tipping it back with ferocity.

Iwaizumi gazed at his feet while he did so, trying to smother the burgeoning fondness in his chest.

He couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair.

“I’m done!” You called out in a sing-song voice, thrusting the empty cup towards him.

“Do you want some more?” He asked as he took the cup from you.

You beamed up at him. “Mhm!”

Iwaizumi sighed. He wasn’t going to say no to that face.

As he went to get you a second glass of water, he kept trying to push those sorts of thoughts out of his head.

He’d been doing so well. Of course, he’d wanted to be friends with you again. Being able to get along would be key to making this whole living situation work. But the closer he got, the more he was reminded of what had happened two years ago.

And like an idiot, he’d tried to position himself as someone you could rely on. He wanted to be someone you could rely on.

But was that because it was the right thing to do, or because of something else?

He shook his had and blinked rapidly. He’s just thinking these things because he’s had a bit to drink. That’s all. It’s nothing serious.

He kept repeating those thoughts as he dragged himself back to your room, determined not to succumb to them.

The last time he’d fallen into them, you’d completely excised each other from your lives. That wasn’t exactly an option here.

He took a deep breath as he stepped into your room, steeling himself for whatever was to come.

You were laid on your bed, limbs curled around one of your pillows. Were you asleep?

Well, he thought, that’s probably for the best.

Iwaizumi sighed, placing the water on your bedside table. Chances were, you were going to wake up with quite the headache. But, he supposed, it’s something of a learning experience. It’s good to know your limits.

He carefully picked up the corner of your blanket and tugged it over you. It was fall, after all. He didn’t want you catching a cold.

Once he was sure everything was in order, he flicked your light off and left, closing the door behind him.

A sudden wave of exhaustion hit him as he dragged himself back to his room. He didn’t dare check the time; he was sure it’d just upset him.

Better to just try and forget about this night and move on.

✧ ✧ ✧

After that party, you’d made a vow to never drink again.

The vow lasted for all about a week. Although, you were much more careful about just how much you were drinking at any given time.

You did, however, stick to your promise to never, ever sleep in your makeup ever again.

Though neither alcohol nor makeup had been an issue as of late.

You’d done your best to give yourself as much time as possible to work on your assignments, mainly so you could ensure that your language use was as proficient as possible. But, even that hadn’t been enough to stave off the beast that is procrastination.

The result, of course, was a flurry of three days wholly dedicated to one assignment about neurotransmitters. You were in total shutdown mode, nothing on your mind but getting this stupid thing done.

You’d even left your room and settled yourself at the dining table in an attempt to stop the ever-coaxing allure of your bed pulling you away from your work desk for yet another nap.

Oh, and texting Amaya at any given moment as a way of putting off your work.

Our time zones don’t line up that well, you kept telling yourself. It’s fine, I can justify this distraction.

“Hey.”

You looked up at Iwaizumi with a thoroughly worn-out expression on your face. “Hello.”

“You okay?” He chuckled.

“As much as I can be,” you whined, turning to glare your computer screen.

“Here,” he said, placing a glass of water and an apple on the desk next to you. You hadn’t even noticed that he had them.

Your heart thumped a funny little rhythm in your chest.

Sure, you were used to Iwazumi’s gentlemanly ways by now. But that didn’t mean your heart didn’t race a little faster at each little act of kindness.

“Keep your fluids up,” he said, nodding at the water. “If you get a headache, we have some Panadol in the cupboard.”

“Thank you,” you blushed.

“No problem,” he smiled, turning around to return to the kitchen.

A new chat lit up on the corner of your screen.

[Kohei] [7:03 PM] Hey! How’s your assignment going?

[You] [7:03 PM] It’s… going?

[Kohei] [7:04 PM] Ahaha oh dear… that doesn’t sound good

[You] [7:03 PM] I am, as the kids say, suffering

[Kohei] [7:03 PM] Oh, I’m so sorry :( is there anything I can do to help?

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. You just needed to get this stupid thing done. Then you’d finally be able to relax.

✧ ✧ ✧

You held your milk tea up to your face, peering at it closely.

“Something wrong?” Iwaizumi asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He was perfectly content with the grapefruit tea he’d ordered, as he usually was.

“I think they skimped on the pearls this time,” you mused.

Iwaizumi chuckled, shaking his head. “Need me to talk to them?”

“No!” You shook your head quickly, any sign of malice disappearing from your face. “No, please don’t!”

“I’m just teasing,” he grinned, flicking your forehead lightly.

“Ow!” You pouted, rubbing the besieged spot gingerly.

“No need to be dramatic.”

“Quite the contrary, actually,” you shook your head, “I’m in my youth. It’s the prime time to be dramatic.”

Iwaizumi gave you the kind of look that implied he had no idea what you were talking about. In truth, neither did you.

You were just in an uncommonly good mood.

The two of you were on your way to a club meeting, organised by the Japanese Students Association. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what the meeting was actually about. All you knew was that you’d been invited. Specifically. Even though you were still just a first year.

And apparently, your presence had been requested by Mei.

Meaning you were actually wanted there.

The thought made your chest bubble with joy. You were wanted somewhere. People wanted to see you. On your merits. Not because of the family you’d be born into.

Sure, knowing Iwaizumi had given you a leg up, but they weren’t obligated to spend time with you, right? Right?

“Hajime?”

You both stopped in your tracks, turning towards the source of this new voice.

It was a girl you didn’t recognise – although you had to admit that she was quite stunning. Her dark hair was tied up in an impressively neat high ponytail, and her red lipstick was impeccable. The look, if she was going for it, was definitely ‘I could kill a man with the mere snap of my fingers.’

“Oh,” Iwaizumi blinked.

Was he… caught of guard?

“Ah, it is you,” the girl smiled, tilting her head at him. “How are you?”

“Good,” he said quickly. You didn’t miss how his grip tightened around his cup.

The girl nodded, her eyes fixed intently on his face.

You felt a bit like you were intruding on something very personal.

“Who’s this?” The girl asked, her gaze shifting to you.

You froze, unsure of what to say.

“Uh, this is my friend,” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to you. “Who also happens to be my roommate.”

You nodded at this girl as Iwaizumi introduced you, trying to ignore the swell in your chest at the fact he’d introduced you as a ‘friend’ first and foremost.

“Ah,” the girl smiled, nodding. “I’m Misaki, by the way.”

The warmth that’d just been spreading through your chest turned cold.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said automatically, trying to stave off whatever confusing mess of emotion was going on inside of you.

“You too,” Misaki smiled.

The three of you stood there for a moment, completely silent.

“We’re on our way to a meeting,” Iwaizumi said, clearing his throat.

“Oh, really?” Misaki blinked. “I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem,” Iwaizumi shook his head, holding a hand up. “You didn’t know.”

“Right,” Misaki nodded slowly, looking between the both of you. “Well, see you around.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, turning to you. “We should get going,” He didn’t wait for your response, walking off at a slightly faster pace than usual.

“Right,” you nodded, falling into step alongside him.

His whole demeanour seemed… off. Like something had really bothered him. It didn’t take a genius to work out why. But, you thought it best to get the facts instead of relying on your own suspicions.

“So,” you began, once you were sure Misaki was safely out of earshot, “who is she?”

Iwaizumi cleared his throat, gaze stuck firmly to the ground. “Uh… she’s my ex.”

“Oh?” You replied. You didn’t want to seem too interested – even though, in fact, you were very interested.

���Yeah…” Iwaizumi nodded slowly. “We broke up a few months ago.”

“Oh…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi shrugged. “We didn’t suit each other.”

“I see…” Break ups were entirely new territory for you. None of your friends had really dated in high school – and if they did, the breakup usually came as some sort of relief. Your friends had never asked for comfort even if you’d offered it.

But, seeing how the two of them had just interacted with each other…

“How long were you together?” You asked. Was that too invasive? You weren’t sure.

“About six months.”

You tried to ignore the stabbing in your gut. Six months? Six months? Sure, that might not be that long in the grand scheme of things, but it sure sounded like a long time to you. You hadn’t even been living with Iwaizumi for six months.

“Ah…” You pressed your lips together, brow furrowing as you searched for what to say. “If you need to talk to someone about it…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Iwaizumi smiled. “Really, I’m over it. I just didn’t expect to run into her today.”

You nodded. “That’s fair.”

“Usually I’d get a heads up before seeing her,” he shrugged.

“Huh?”

“Well, uh…” He cleared his throat. “We see each other at events, sometimes. For the Japanese Association.”

“Oh?” Now that piqued your interest.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “We actually met through it.”

Something twisted in your stomach. They’d met through the Student Association? It shouldn’t have made the thought of going to events weird, and yet it did.

“Oh really?” You asked, trying to seem unbothered.

“Mhm,” Iwaizumi nodded. “A lot of people end up finding a partner there.”

You frowned. Were you expected to find a partner there? Would you find a partner there?

Maybe you would. Maybe you’d finally find someone to date.

Although, you weren’t sure how anyone was supposed to measure up to Iwaizumi. Especially when he was standing right there.

“Anyway,” he sighed, picking up his pace. “We’ll be late.”

“Right,” you nodded, scurrying after him.

All you could hope for was to be able to push the thought of Misaki out of your head.

It felt petty, childish. You shouldn’t’ve been so concerned with Iwaizumi’s love life; his dating history shouldn’t matter to you.

But the questions swirled in your head as the two of you rushed across campus.

Had he dated anyone other than Misaki? Had he loved her? How far had they gone together? Did he miss her? Did he ever think about her?

Or, worse yet, was he on the look-out for someone else?

✧ ✧ ✧

“It’s not that hard once you understand the basics,” Iwaizumi said.

“Right,” you nodded, watching his hands intently as he sliced up an onion.

“If you place your hand like this,” he said, fist placed on the onion so that his knuckles ghosted the knife, “you’re less likely to cut yourself.”

“Ah,” you marvelled. “That’s actually a really helpful tip.”

“I know,” he grinned. “That’s why I’m sharing it with you.”

You rolled your eyes.

Iwaizumi moved onto the carrots, which you’d peeled yourself. Maybe you were a bit too proud, given the size of the task, but he let you get away with it.

He chopped the carrots with his typical proficiency.

You rested your elbows on the countertop, propping your chin up on the palms of your hands.

“We should have a dinner party,” you suggested, the image of all your shared friends gathered round your table, laughing and smiling, filling your heart with a precious warmth.

“That’s not what uni students usually do,” Iwaizumi smiled. “Not in America, anyway.”

“So?” You turned to him with a defiant expression. “We can all pretend to be upper-middle class for the evening,” you opined, tilting your chin at him. “It’ll be fun.”

“I’ll think about it,” Iwaziumi smiled.

“Pft,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “Like it’s up to you. I can just hold one without you.”

You wouldn’t really do that. You’d met them through him, after all.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi grinned, a certain glint in his eyes. “What’re you going to serve everyone? Burnt rice?”

“Hey!” You whined. “It was one time!”

“How do you even burn rice?” Iwaizumi teased.

You pouted, lifting your fist and lightly punching him in the chest.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, sweetheart,” he laughed, puffing his chest out proudly. “I barely even felt that.”

“Fine.” You went for another swing.

Iwaizumi caught your wrist, holding it above your head in a gentle grip.

You swung with your other hand, only for him to catch that one, too.

You glared at him – but you know he’s aware that you’re just having a bit of fun.

“You’re the worst and I hate you,” you huffed.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he smirked.

You tried to think of some retort, some witticism that’d catch him off guard.

Nothing came to mind. Not when you were so close to him, his hands wrapped around your wrists as he looked at you with that expression. Stupid Iwaizumi Hajime and his stupid face and his stupid voice and his stupid—

You brought your knee up to his stomach, making him flinch.

His stumbled backwards and you tried to tug your wrists away. But his grip was too strong, even when he wasn’t trying all that hard.

“Stop,” you whined. “Let me go.”

“Say sorry.”

“For what?”

“Punching me.”

“Oh, come on,” you pouted at him. “It didn’t even hurt.”

“And?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “It’s about the principle of it.”

“Of punching you?”

“Mhm. It’s not very polite.”

You tried to tug away again. Your mind was wandering much too far. Farther than it should.

“Brattiness is an inherited trait,” you said, “it’s just part of being an Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi chuckled, finally letting you go.

Maybe the implication of your brother was enough to do it.

“You might be right about that,” he teased.

You stuck your tongue out at him petulantly.

Don’t make it hard for yourself, you thought. Not again.

✧ ✧ ✧

The sound of some generic eighties rock band bounced through your apartment as you and Iwaizumi tended to the DVD rack stood next to the TV.

“You have the taste of an old man,” you teased, glancing at Iwaizumi out the corner of your eye.

“These are classics,” Iwaizumi tsked.

“Kohei described them as ‘dad bands,’” you hummed.

“And why should this Kohei’s opinion matter more than mine, hm?”

“I never said it did,” you grinned, moving the DVD for Ferris Buller’s Day Off to its designated genre category. Why Iwaizumi had spent so much money on DVDs, you didn’t know. You would’ve thought that they’d just provide more clutter, especially if he planned on moving back to Japan.

You’d just surmised that it had something to do with his natural ineptitude with technology.

“What does this ‘Kohei’ even listen to?” Iwaizumi asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know, actually.”

“You know, you’ll look back at the music of this decade and realise most of it’s garbage,” Iwaizumi grunted.

“Okay, grandpa.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “you’ve got that look on your face.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at you. “What look?”

“You know,” you giggled, turning to face him. “This look.”

You drew your eyebrows together a little, narrowing your eyes just enough to make them a bit more intense. To finish it off, you turned the corners of your mouth down, performing your best impression of a certified ‘Serious Iwaizumi.’

He flicked your forehead gently, a fond smile on his face. “I don’t look like that.”

“Oh, but you do,” you stressed. “You’re going to get premature wrinkles if you’re not careful.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. “At least I’ll have my arms.”

You couldn’t argue with that. The only thing left to do was return to your task, hoping that the very invasive thought of Iwaizumi’s well-built arms would get out of your head.

There was a tap on your shoulder.

“Hm?” You turned to look at him.

He held up two DVD cases. “Blade Runner, or Back to the Future?”

You glanced between the two of them intently. “Huh?”

“We should take a break,” he suggested.

“Ah,” you nodded. “Which one’s less depressing?”

“Uh…” Iwaizumi looked between the two of them. “Back to the Future. Definitely.”

“I wanna watch that one, then.”

Iwaizumi nodded, turning around and turning the TV on.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Watching a movie with Iwaizumi, huh? Now that was dangerous territory. This time, at least, you knew to put a pillow between the two of you.

[peeterparkr]

perfidy;tom holland|3

chapter 3: the background music

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits 

story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

chapter summary: you get a chance to get closer to Tom, and you take it.  

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, alcohol, mentions of sex (? didn’t proof read

word count: 6k (whoops)

here’s a playlist

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Hi! I’ve been super busy I’m sorry! And I rewrote this like a thousand times but I like where this is going, so please! Tell me what you think, comments and reblogs are very welcome. (Btw it’d be cool if you listened to the songs) 

It’s been a while since you felt your heart halt with excitement. You hadn’t felt your stomach jolt with butterflies since your first date with Timmy. And you kind of missed it, that ever lasting and wonderful joy to experience on a first encounter. The smiles, the tingle and the hand shaking. The little hints of flirting that led to asking someone out. It’s like walking into a movie theatre, with a promise of joy, with the taste of popcorn,  and you find yourself walking in with excitement and getting transported into a whole new other world. 

Love, like any movie, can be good, can be bad. Like a good story, one that’s promising and you can’t stop watching, and you want to see yourself in the emotions, and feel the air and the breeze. 

Love is like movies, some of them you like, some of them you don’t. Movies make us cry, make us feel. Some of them make us laugh, some of them not so much. 

And love, it has its own background music. Like in films, there are songs that just transport you back to that moment, to that scene. With Timmy, it was a calm song, too calm for your own convenience. 

But Tom, not that you loved him, somehow had his own soundtrack. 80’s chaotic rock n’ roll. Rolling Stones vibes. Every time he walked into the room, it felt like one of those scenes in a movie, a bar with little lightning when the guy with blue jeans and white t-shirt walked in, cigarette in the edge of his mouth, walking in vainly, as if he thought everyone had their eyes on him. They probably did, if you were honest that made you hate him even more, but somehow it was interesting. A character that probably had no other personality trait than being an asshole. 

It wasn’t always like that. Not that notorious, at least. Tom had changed from a 60’s chaotic rock n roll. Always rock n roll. You could picture it, if you had to imagine a scene from your childhood with Tom, you’d probably play The Kinks. Picture Book. 

When Tom and you were younger, it was absolutely clear you didn’t get along. Constant hair pulling, insults, and pranks. A parade of hatred, yelling, fighting and very unnecessary arguments over very stupid stuff. And yes, Tom was still wrong, Robin Hood was not the superior Disney movie, just to clear that out. 

Everyone said it: Those two can’t hate each other more. They were right. 

At school, if you ever crossed paths, there’d be trouble. You’d often be at the principal’s office after having a heated argument with Tom or a prank, or…whatever you guys had come up with this time. 

It was quite clear. 

Your mother and Nikki, however, had a very different opinion on your relationship than anyone else, they were aware of your attitude and Tom’s, but they were still convinced they would fix it, and you didn’t blame them, you’d also be pissed if in the future your children didn’t get along with Harry’s or Sam’s, you’d try to force it as well. At a point, they stopped forcing the ‘future romantic relationship’ bullshit dream and settled with trying to get you guys getting along without fighting. They were sure that the fighting was probably because you had only a few things in common, so they pushed your activities together. 

Add in some Johnny B. Goode to remember the following. 

First, it was piano lessons. First class and you had already knocked down the piano while yelling at each other. You weren’t welcomed for a second class. Then it was baseball, and Tom had hit your nose with the ball, it had been an accident ‘allegedly’. It wasn’t. You weren’t welcome for that class either. Painting classes, you had painted Tom’s clothes all green and made his hair pink. The teacher had claimed she’d never seen two kids more unfit for art than you two. 

So, yeah, it didn’t work out. 

Eventually, Nikki and your mother decided to stop trying, or at least they gave up the extra classes. At least not together, Tom started ballet and you found joy in photography classes. You were getting along better since you didn’t have to actually spend time together. 

So they’d just ask how your relationship was going and whenever they wanted to have tea together they’d avoid bringing you two together unless you were cool with each other. It made it very difficult that you were very good friends with the twins. 

But you had had your secrets, even after everything, you still crushed on him from time to time. However, the last time you had had any kind of feelings like those had been when he had taken you to prom. Of course it had awakened something in you, but those feelings had never come back because he had broken your heart. What else could you expect from someone like him? After that, you’d promised yourself you’d never fall again for him. Not that you fell for him, but you promised that his smile would never make your stomach jolt with joy. 

It hadn’t. 

Let’s go 70’s music now, maybe. Come and Get Your Love-Redbone. 

Even on your 18th birthday, the last time you ackwloedged you had made out---kissed- with him hadn’t brought any feelings. Or maybe, they had surfaced but they had been very different feelings. They were mostly confused and disgusted. THere had been one more thing but... You decided to ignore it. But you hadn’t really felt anything for him, less when you realized how big of an asshole he was to you. 

You were sure he had never felt anything for you. He had made it very clear. ‘I’d rather eat a frog than kiss you’. Yet, he had kissed you. 

You had once bothered him about it: “Hey Holland, I know why your face looks like that, you said you’d rather eat a frog than kiss me, so you ended up never swallowing that frog!” 

However you were now facing a predicament. You had a month, a month to make him fall in love with you when he clearly had no interest in you. 

That’s all you could think about as you had arrived at his parents’ place. You had been quiet on the ride back home. You hadn’t even told him how it had gone. But he had let you choose the music. You’d love to change the soundtrack on your relationship with Tom, maybe an 80’s more type of funky music. 

You hadn’t told your friends about it, but you had told them you’d be going to a bar later to celebrate. But you had been quiet. You needed to think of something fast because you knew how your boss liked to work, and this was the opportunity of a lifetime. You’d be away for two months and if you didn’t come back with a script for her you’d be screwed. This was the worst timing, Tom was going to start filming in exactly three days, sure he’d start in London and then go to America, but you had to do something quick and come up with a lame excuse to hang out with him. Change the background music in your scenes with him. 

How does one make your enemy fall in love with you? You thought of the possibility of changing the script and sending in an idea to Alessandra, maybe you could talk about something that was actually happening to you. The story of your breakup with Timmy? That could work, although your breakup had been extremely boring. No one would like to watch something as calm and boring and that probably was playing the worst music in history. 

And if you thought about it, with Tom, it was like one of those sexy chaotic rock n’ roll songs. 

How would you make him fall in love with you? And why did you want him to? That’s all you had been thinking about on the way home. Because there was a part of you that wanted him to feel the way you felt back when you were younger. You wanted him to feel that agony of knowing that you liked someone who would rather go eat a frog than to ever like you back. Someone who constantly found ways to hurt you. Who could ever fall in love with such a beast like him? 

Tom led the way to the door. And you gave it a thought, all of this was now just a scene, something you were writing, but writing it along the way. And you pictured it on the script. How you could start and use some childhood scenes, and then, to this exact moment, with a little bit more of imagination. 

Ext. 1989 London Suburbs-Day. 

Y/N gets out of the car, an 86 blue porsche. Tom is playing with the keys and heading to the door. 

Y/N

Hey, Tom? 

You saw it, you could write it. 

“Hey, Tom?” You asked. And you had to take a look at him, and really stare. So he’d know. You knew him, that was your weapon. You knew what he liked, what he didn’t, you knew the girls he’d dated. You had that in your favor, and you knew that Tom loved being noticed. 

He noticed that you were staring and you saw him slightly concerned. 

“Oh, you’re talking, good,” he said as he cleared his throat and then you finally arrived at his face, arching your eyebrows as your eyes met his.. He’d grown up, but you could still see that kid you once knew. “Are you okay?” He asked. And you saw him, he was weirded out. He noticed you were staring. 

“Thanks for the ride, it meant a lot to me.” For starters, you could try to be nice. 

He gave you an awkward smile. “Sure.” 

You walked to the door now, but he stopped you. 

“How did it go?” He asked. And you only patted him on the shoulder. 

“Good, thanks for worrying,” and you placed a kiss on his cheek. And you thought of the camera, maybe a close up to the lipstick stain you’d left. 

He went red and paused, triumphantly you opened the door and there was his whole family. Of course Nikki  would do this. They knew how big this was and they loved making a big deal about it, especially since Tom had driven you. 

This was awkward, it wasn’t like you didn’t feel comfortable with the Hollands, au contraire, but there was that pinch of guilt holding you back, you knew what you were going to do and you felt like everyone knew about it. Especially since they saw Tom was trying to scratch the remaining lipstick on his cheek.

But you walked in, Nikki was on the phone, and she dedicated a big smile to you. 

“It’s your mum!” she mouthed.  Your parents were currently having a perfect vacation in Paris, and if you were honest with yourself, you’d rather be third wheeling your parents than trying to come up with ways to make your biggest enemy fall in love with you. It sounded so dramatic, an enemy. Calling him that seemed so immature and childish. But there was no other way to call him. He was your mortal enemy. 

Dom was the one to approach you and hugged you hello. 

You didn’t know if they sensed your tension. 

“Hey y/n, what’s with the long face?” Sam asked as he grinned looking at you, walking over. “Who died?” 

“Her hopes and dreams, probably,” Tom said behind you. “And her sex life,” he laughed, earning a glare by Nikki. 

“Tom,” Nikki turned stern. 

“What? Didn’t she just break up?” Tom pushed with a smirk. 

Nikki crossed her arms, “Thomas,” her voice was firm as she watched him leave for the kitchen, but then softened as she looked at you. “Y/N, long time no see! I see Tom drove you,” Nikki grinned. 

“Yeah, he did, didn’t leave me alone” you chuckled. “He was nice, that didn’t last” you chuckled. 

“Your brother is coming, too, by the way,” she informed you. Great. But how did it go?” She grinned. “Do you have a job now?” 

“I….” 

Harry tackled you from behind. “Yes,  idiot! How did it go?” 

You chuckled as you turned around to finally hug him. “Hi!” You wanted to tell Harry everything, everything, you hadn’t seen him in a while, he was too busy with his own things and his new girlfriend, Emma.

“Oh, you don’t know how much I missed you,” he said.  

“Me too,” you grinned. “How are things with Emma? How are you?” 

“Good, great, things are… great, I’ve got some news!” He chuckled. “But, okay, tell me everything about the interview, I’m so sorry I couldn’t-”

“Hey, it’s alright! It went amazing! I… Well, it’s complicated, but I kind of nailed it.” 

“Really?” Tom asked as he was opening up a bag of crisps. “Then why were you quiet all this time?” 

“I didn’t want to talk to you,” you snapped. “Never share good news with your enemy.” 

Tom rolled his eyes and forced a laugh.

You turned back to Harry. “But, hey, what is the news?” 

“Um… let’s just… Have lunch.” 

Before you knew it, you were sitting down listening to Harry and Sam, both of them making you laugh with their stories. Tom sat at the other edge of the table, far from you. This was how it usually went, him far away from you and avoiding any eye contact with you. Everyone understood it, and they didn’t try to push it that far anymore. There were times when you turned to eat, when things were bad, but right now it seemed like it was bothering Tom. You could see he wanted to join the conversation at times but he remained on his phone, or talking to his parents. 

Your brother arrived and he sat near Tom, they were friends, and they could talk to each other. And although your brother was aware of your relationship with Tom, he had grown up with him, too so there couldn’t be any hard feelings against them. Besides, everyone in the family was aware of it. This was between you and Tom only, nothing to drag them in.

You caught Tom’s eyes a few times, and you had, against your will, dedicated him a smile or two. He hadn’t smiled back. 

“Okay, so what’s the big deal, y/n?” James asked. “I mean, I love coming over for lunch here but, how did it go? Are you an official writer?” 

You chuckled as you saw them looking at you. “I well…” 

They frowned. 

“Well, they asked me to write a script, for a new series, pitch in an idea, they’re giving me two months to write it and if they like it, I am officially working for them.” 

“That’s nuts,” Harry frowned.

 “That sounds like the worst job offer,” Paddy pointed out. 

“Pads,” Sam frowned at him. 

“It’s a competition kind of thing, if they like it enough, they’ll produce it,” you explained. “That’s why I’m not as...excited.” 

“But it’s a chance,” Tom pointed out. “I… talked to your friend, he… Charlie, that’s his name?” He asked. “And he told me about that and how they’re only choosing between three people.” 

Your eyes widened. He had talked to Charlie and that made you feel uncomfortable. “Yes, well, it’s a shot, it’s better than having nothing.” 

“But wait, until then you have like… No job?” Sam asked.

You bit your lip. “Yup, but hey it’s… a good shot, I honestly thought Alessandra was going to fire me.” 

“That’s nonsense,” James pitched in. “But okay, I’m still proud of you, little one,” he grinned. 

You knew it wasn’t a big shot, but it was a chance. 

“Yes, it’s still good.” Harry pursed his lips.

Nikki and Dom watched you, and you saw it in their eyes the same pity your parents usually had. 

“But hey!” You tried to change the subject. “Harry’s got news too, right?” 

Harry popped his lips. “Yeah, uh… I got… Well, I actually, ...it got in, the screenplay, they’re producing it,” Harry explained, and he said it with the softest voice as if he was trying not to hurt you. But this was weird, you already knew that part. “But well, we’re starting the production in a week in… Scotland.” 

“That’s amazing!” You grinned. 

And his whole family started to cheer for him, and the tension in the room faded out. 

Except when Tom finally… realized something. “Wait, in a week?” Tom asked. “Then… you’re not...coming to help me out?” 

And the table went quiet. Harry was Tom’s assistant, he knew schedules, clothes, everything. Harry was basically Tom’s boss. 

“Yeah, I wanted to talk about that, too,” Harry bit his lip. “I can’t… I would’ve told you sooner so we could find another assistant but-” 

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Tom cleared his throat. “I’m super excited I just… I need to find an assistant.”

And then you saw it. A chance, as if you had just wished upon a star and it had granted you an opportunity. If this hadn’t been the situation you probably would’ve called him out on being so selfish and arrogant and vain as you usually did, but this was unexpected as if the universe was trying to help you with your plan. 

The family started to give him so options and they were trying to find a balance between finding somehting that could soothe stupid Tom and congratulate Harry

“What if… I’m your assistant?” You said, loud enough for all them to quiet down. 

Tom laughed. “What?” 

“Yeah, think about it,” you shrugged. “I don’t have a job right now, and it’ll be what? Two months filming? It’s a perfect time for me to help you out and write” 

Tom frowned, staring at you. “You can’t be serious?” 

“Why not?” You grinned. 

“Because you can’t stand each other,” this time your brother popped in. “And being his assistant would mean spending this entire two months with him.” 

“And he gets pretty annoying,” Sam said. 

“I’m used to that, I can handle that,” you said. 

“I can’t handle you,” Tom frowned. 

“Now, now, Tom it might be… a good idea,” Nikkie said, and of course she would agree. Of course she wanted you to be around him, with hopes of you getting along. And right now, you wanted more than getting along. 

“Yes, you’re both adults now, you can be decent, right?” Dom intruded.

“I can,” you smiled. 

“No, you can’t,” Tom clenched his jaw. 

“Oh, c’mon, Tom, help her out,” Harry said. “Besides, I’m sure she’ll be great, she'd be amazing at planning.” 

Tom looked away. “I’ll… think about it.” 

Lunch became quiet on Tom’s side of the table, while you kept talking to Harry and Sam. You weren’t quiet, and eventually ended up in the living room, having a laugh and waiting for it to get dark so you could go to the bar where you’d meet your friends. 

You borrowed a hoodie and then you were good to go, Sam, Harry and you were about to walk out when you bumped into Tom who had also stayed, talking to your brother, who had just left. 

Tom looked at the three of you and walked past you. 

“Have fun.” 

Usually, he wouldn’t be invited, but right now you were under very different circumstances. It felt different. And there was still that tinge in your ear telling you to back away, no one should play with fire unless you want to get burned. 

“You can come, too,” you said as you turned around. 

“What?” Tom frowned as he stopped. 

“You’re invited,” you cleared up, as he slightly turned to you. 

“Really?” 

“Sure,” you smiled. “C’mon it’s my way to pay you for the ride.” 

He clenched his jaw, but he quickly accepted it and joined you. 

Before you knew it, you had a beer in your hand and he was sitting right beside you. You didn’t understand how or why, but he had been the one to sit without a warning. You were in your favorite booth at the end of the pub where you had a little bit more privacy. And you watched Tom, and his cap. 

You didn’t stand him, why were you going to risk it all for this? And the idea of being his assistant was giving you a headache. 

But you thought about it, how stupid it was of Alessandra to ask for a script based on real life. It was probably one of her most stupid ideas, and you knew that she probably was doing it because she believed of herself as a teacher that was giving the key of art to the interns. When in reality she was only pushing everyone back. But maybe this would be a challenge for you, you’d never written anything remotely close to a love story, only when younger, maybe, but you didn’t like writing love because it didn’t feel like a challenge to you. Maybe it was now. 

Somehow, Charlie and Danielle had decided that the perfect way to get the evening going was to ask about your childhood. 

There was a live group playing music, and somehow you felt it was a sign. 70’s and 80’s rock n’ roll. It suited the vibe, as the light was dimmed out. 

“Man, I—If I’m honest, I think we probably have everything filmed,” Tom said, as he answered Danielle’s question of your childhood. “Y/N and Harry used to carry that camera everywhere.” 

The beer in your hand was bittersweet, you had stopped counting how many you had had, Tom kept ordering you both beer, something advised by Harry and Sam, who had pointed out you both needed to be a little bit tipsy to stand each other. 

“Really?” Charlie asked. 

“Yes, we should pick that up again, you know?” You nodded, as you let down your beer, you brushed your fingers against Tom’s. “It's good to have memories.” 

Harry grinned. “I mean we didn’t really stop.” 

“No, but you know, we used to literally film everything we’d be filming this!” You pointed out. 

Tom chuckled as he took out his phone. “Hey everyone, it’s Tom and I’m kind of drunk here,” he admitted to the camera. “On my side, you’ll be able to see a troll, one of a kind, viewer discretion is advised,” he pointed at you as you glared at him. 

“Oh, piss off.” 

“See? Oh maybe I’m wrong, are you a witch?” He smirked as he pointed the camera at you. 

“Change a letter there, sweetheart,” Charlie grinned. “It’s not a w it’s a b.” 

Harry snickered. “Oh, don’t give him ideas.”

Tom shook his head. “Nah, she’s more of a witch,” Tom said carefully as he turned to you. “The wicked witch of the east.” 

“It’s the west, dumbass,” you corrected him. 

“No, because the one who died is the one from the east,” he winked at you. “And I’m Glinda.” 

“You know she’s the real villain of the story right?” You frowned. 

“She is not.” 

“No, she’s not but—“you chuckled. “I’m drunk. I dunno.”

But the conversation was flowing and you were hinting some flirting at Tom sometimes, like casually touching his shoulder or batting your eyes a bit more, and he was catching up on it. But your nature would show up and you’d end up mocking each other and rolling your eyes. If anything, you could blame it on the alcohol. 

“You know, you know what you two need?” Charlie said between drunken giggles. Tom was recording again as he made silly faces to the camera but then started to record you.  

“A burger,” you answered, turning back to Charlie. 

“With chips, yes,” Tom agreed and you laughed and slightly leaned against him. You had significantly gotten closer to him through the night and you were sure his hand had landed several times on your waist. His hand was slightly now behind your shoulders, resting against the booth. 

“No, you guys need to bone,” Charlie snaked. You felt your heart falling down and you quickly shifted away from Tom. He retracted his hand to himself. 

Harry burst into laughter. “This dude is mental.” 

“These two?” Sam threw his head back. “oh gosh, if you told them to screw they would actually bring nails and screw,” Sam laughed. 

“Yes, I’d rather have grounds in my coffee than have to spend 5 minutes with him,” you said. 

“And I’d rather eat a frog,” Tom chuckled. 

“Just swallow the one in your mouth,” you giggled,  poking his cheeks then proceeded to make more faces at his camera. 

“I’m serious, all that hatred you’re showing it’s only a facade,” Charlie said. “All of it would be gone if you gave in to that sexual tension you’ve got going on.” 

“Gross,” you stated

“It’s simple psychology,” Charlie explained, “you’re both rude to each other because you can’t have the other.” 

Harry coughed, “That would never happen.” You saw Harry gulp down his beer, 

“Why can’t people just accept we don’t like each other?” You wondered as you watched them. 

“You’re like my soulmate but for hate,” Tom zoned out for a minute. “My soulhate.” 

“Besides it’d be weird,” Harry pointed out. “We grew up together.” 

“That would make it weird?” Tom raised his brow. 

Charlie took a long sip of his vodka. “I’m just saying.” 

“Well, don’t,” you rolled your eyes.

 But the night continued, Charlie and Danielle left eventually leaving you with the Holland’s. The twins left and, you hadn’t accepted their offer to drive you home. Surprisingly Tom hadn’t left either, it seemed like he had picked up on your little flirting game. This was a good start. 

“So, you really do want to be my new assistant?” He asked, as he snatched your drink out of your hand, taking a sip. 

“I actually do,” you sassed as you took it back, sipping it. “I need a job and might as well have something to kind of do with a big star, you know?”

He watched you. “You think we will last without fighting?”

“No.” 

“Then?” 

“Well, you’ve got a better idea? Have anyone else for the job? You start in three days” you pointed out. 

He rolled his eyes. “I know, I know.”

“Besides, I know you, Tom, for better or for worse,” you admitted. 

He clenched his jaw. “I guess. You do realize we’ll have to spend an awful lot of time together? And that you’ll have to travel with me?” He was condescending. 

“It’ll be strictly business, won’t it?”

“Yes but-“

“I’ll be as professional as I can be, Thomas Stanley Holland,” you grinned

“Don’t call me that.”

You giggled. “Little Stanley…” 

Tom frowned. LY/N, see? This. This is what I mean.” 

“Ah, c’mon Stan,” you laughed. “I won’t be showing all your embarrassing pictures and telling your stories to everybody.” 

Tom stood up, ready to leave. “That’s it.” 

You pulled him back down. “Tommy, I’m joking.”

He glared at you. “I don’t trust you.” 

“You think I trust you?” You laughed. “We both can lose a lot here, Tommy, I won’t be risking my career in spite of yours.”

He bit his lip, looking away. 

“Tommy, please.”

“I...fine. But I need you to understand… You’ll be spending time with me.” 

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, but it came out very poisonous, earning a scoff from Tom. “Why are you scared?” 

“Because I honestly think this is the most time we’ve shared without tearing each other apart,” he shrugged. 

You stared down at the half full bottle that you’d been sharing. You took it into your hands. 

“Ah, it’s the beer, probably,” you grinned

He took it from your hands and sipped it. “Right, alcohol makes us nice to each other.” 

“You call this nice?” You took the beer back. 

“I’m not trying to ruin your life so yes,” he smirked, taking it back. 

“Am I ruining yours?”

“Kind of,” he admitted. 

You smirked as you finally took the beer back and downed it. “Good.”

“Shall I remain drunk all the time, then?” He laughed, his laughter was dragged. 

“Dunno, it’s up to you, you do tend to get a little nicer,” 

He laughed. “Me? You’re the one who hasn’t been able to keep her hands to herself,” he pointed out as your hand had brushed his. 

You clenched your jaw. “And you haven’t pushed me away,” you smirked, as you took his hand and pushed it away.

Tom licked his lips as he stared at you. “Well.” He shrugged, as he placed his arm back behind you, resting it back on the chair. 

“See? Alcohol.” 

He laughed. “I can’t be drunk all the time.”

“I can.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Tom, I’m joking, and I genuinely want to help you,” you said. “Besides, I’ll have time to write this script.” 

He rested his hand on his head, you could smell the alcohol even from that distance. “What will you write about?” 

“Dunno, I’ll see.” 

“You’re good, don’t worry.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’ve never read me.” 

“I’ve read many of your scripts,” Tom scoffed. “Not only the ones when we were little, I...also the ones you’ve shown to Harry, they’re all good.”

You frowned. “Thanks.” 

“I don’t see why you’re so stressed about this.”

“Because… it’s complicated,” you shrugged. “It’s not...something I usually write.” 

“Hm. Is it a love story what you need to write?” He mocked. 

“I well, kind of, so shut up, you know I hate writing those,” you rolled your eyes.

“Hm, you do, now?”

“Yes, I don’t think I’ve ever written some true authentic love story,” you admitted. And you hadn’t, you really hadn’t. 

“Because you’re the villain of the stories, you said it when we were kids. The villains will never…”

“Never find love, I know. Maybe you’re right. But you’re the villain in my story so…” You wrinkled your nose. 

“We’re doomed.” He bit his lip. 

“Or…” You grinned. 

“Or?” He frowned. 

“Maybe the villains end up falling for each other,” you suggested, shooting your shot. 

He laughed to himself and turned away. A slight blush upon his. “Hm, hinting a crush again, y/n? I think I’ve been clear with you before, you’re not my type.” His voice had turned darker. 

“Oh, please, Tom, I’d never fall for some jerk like you,” you pushed. 

“You did once.” 

“I was 9 and stupid” 

“Oh, right you’re not 9 anymore, but you’re still stupid,” he grinned. 

You shrugged. “But not as stupid as to be one of those many who’d fall for you, you know?” “Ah, the I’m not like other girls cliché,” Tom laughed, rolling his eyes. 

“Yes, but it’s not really a cliché here,” you pointed out. “I mean if we’re honest, I know you enough to know you’re an asshole, and everyone else sees you through the cameras, you know?”

He raised his brows. “I guess… yet...You’ve always been different, y/n, you know? Like, I’m always on the edge with you.” 

You grinned. “Are you now?” 

“Yeah, one minute you’re flirting then the other you’re doing this,” he pointed at your glaring face, as you felt yourself blushing ignoring his gaze. “it’s weird. I never know if you’re flirting or not.”

“I’m not,” you crossed your arms. “Not with you.” 

“Then who were you flirting with all night? Harry? Sam?” Tom pushed. 

“No… Charlie.” 

“Charlie? The gay guy,” Tom laughed. 

You flipped him off. 

He smired. “See? Just two seconds ago you had your hand in my hair.”

“Alcohol.” 

The lights were dimmed. 

“We should… get out of here, I’ll get us an uber.” 

You walked out, tipsy enough to walk and just slightly cold. You knew that asking for his jacket would earn only a laugh from him. He had been just nice enough now, and you knew this could blow up. But you felt dizzy, and to keep yourself steady you grabbed his arm. He didn’t move as he stared at his phone. 

“You’re always like that, you know?” 

“Like what?” 

“You’re like polar opposites in one person,” he commented. 

You pushed him away. “Ah great, am I bipolar now?”

“No, no, that’s not…”He closed his eyes. “Not what I meant.” 

The car arrived and you both hopped into the backseat. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he continued. 

“Then what did you mean?” You crossed your arms. 

“I don’t know.” 

You glanced at him. “And you’re worse, you’ve been playing with me since kids.” 

“What does that---?” He frowned. “I never-” 

“You always gave me hope.”

“I didn’t. Maybe you were too busy dreaming with me and misread everything, I’ve never liked you.

“I’m not implying you liked me,” you snapped. 

“Then?”

“I’m implying you were an asshole.” 

The driver widened his eyes as he looked at you from the mirror, you saw he was trying to suppress a smile.

Tom clenched his jaw. “Ah, that I am, but, please, sweetheart but you and I could never be.” 

“I know, mainly because I despise you.” 

He scooted closer. “And because I’m cool and you’re you.”

“And I’m me?” You saw him getting extremely closer. 

He held your chin. “Look at us, y/n we come from different worlds.” He was leaning in. 

“As long as I remember we grew up in the same one, yet you still managed to become an asshole,” you pushed his face away from yours. 

“I think we’re getting a little bit mean again,” Tom rolled his eyes. 

You remained quiet. 

“I don’t know y/n, maybe they’re all right, I—”

“Who?”

“Everyone maybe we—have to I dunno,” He placed his hand on your leg and you raised your brows. 

“What?” 

He slowly wrapped his arm behind your shoulder and leaned closer. “I feel like we need to loosen up a little y/n.” 

You felt your heart racing, you were angry, you didn’t like this and you didn’t want him to believe that you actually still fancied him, but this was all working, this is exactly where you technically wanted to have him. So, you had to give in.

“And what do you suggest?” Your voice was low. 

“I don’t know, I’m giving in to all your flirting,” He laughed as he scooted closer.

You turned around, and laughed. “My flirting?

It felt like late 60’s, rock n roll

Tom, turned your head back to him. “Please you’ve been doing it since you came out of that interview.” 

“Hm,” you nodded. “I remember being quiet.” 

“And I remember those lips on my cheek,” he gently poked your lips, and maybe it was the alcohol speaking for itself but you wanted to kiss him, and kiss every single spot on his skin. 

You cleared your throat. “Ah, please Tom, I was being nice,” you rolled your eyes. 

But then you felt his lips against your neck, you instinctively closed your eyes. 

“Hm, maybe be nicer?” he kept kissing your neck. 

“Nicer?” 

“You know, lips on mine,” he whispered. 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re drunk, Tom”

“Maybe, but you are, too,” and with that he sealed the deal and closed the gap, combining your lips with yours. And maybe the driver had done it on purpose, or maybe it was faith or your imagination,, trying to get a perfect soundtrack for you, but ‘You Shook Me’ by Led Zeppelin was just the exact song you needed to listen to while kissing your enemy. But how far were you going to let yourself go? 

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

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[otome-corner-cafe]

Well now that I have an otome side blog I guess I'll talk about this.

So the idea is the brainchild of my answer to a post that read something along the lines of "the last tv show you watch gets crossover with the last game you played."

When I saw that post, the last tv show I had watched was Black Clover. The last game I played was Dandelion: Wishes Brought to You.

Thus, the unholy abomination of...

Black Dandelion~!

(Alternatively, it could be called Clover: Luck Brought to You but hnnnghhhhhh, I thought of "Black Dandelion" first and wishes are kind of a big thing in Dandelion.)

Where was I?

Right!

I'm going to take the base premise of Dandelion and insert my choice of Black Clover characters into it. So this is a modern setting with minimal presence of magic.

So to set the scene: we've got one jerkwad wizard who decides to mess with a particular individual (MC) with a game. Jerk wizard picks out five animal men from the local alternate world and sends them to MC. Five love interests (LIs), one MC. Whoever MC falls for wins, gets a wish granted, and returns to their original world.

The five LIs I chose: Nacht, Morgen, Nozel, Fuegoleon, and William (two of my personal faves and then some fandom faves.)

I have ideas for what animals the guys would be as well as a basic run down of their routes/stories. That info shall be under the cut.

(Fair warning Dandelion fans, I'm messing with the canon social structures because I can.)

.....

Nacht, the white dog (Gimodelo seems to be Nacht's main devil, thus he is a dog man and he's got white hair because punk Nacht lives in my head rent free). In my mind, he would no doubt have a dark route, if not the darkest route in the game. There wouldn't be any devils but he would've been a member of a no-good gang in the animal world. He did whatever he liked with no thought of how it affected others. That was until Morgen tried to stop Nacht and the gang, and the gang retaliated by attacking Morgen. Thankfully, Morgen lived but was left terribly scarred. Nacht became guilt-ridden for the incident and everything he did before. His route would be similar Jiyeon's but not exactly the same. He would act nice and polite to MC (not cutesy like Jiyeon), admiring their goodness and encouraging them when they're down. But then, as he and MC get closer, he gets scared that becoming too close to MC would get them hurt because trouble follows him wherever he goes. Thus, he starts pushing MC away and tries to keep himself away, maybe by even repeating what he did in the animal world like an idiot (but my beloved idiot) to prove a point. He will eventually see that he doesn’t have to blame himself for all the trouble in his life. His wish would be for Morgen to be healed.

Morgen, the black dog (since he's Nacht's brother, he would be a dog too). One of the softer/easier routes to deal with. Morgen would be affectionate towards and supportive of MC. He’s got a visible injury/scar from getting attacked by Nacht’s gang that supposedly doesn’t bother him. A running gag with him is that he’d be encouraging MC to pursue Nacht instead (even though you can’t change the route once you're on one). The biggest issues he has are that he's too selfless, having no idea how to say “no” to any request, and refuses to show negativity so it’d be hard to tell when he’s actually feeling troubled. He fears being a burden on others after seeing Nacht blame himself for the terrible incident. His route arc is him accepting his frustrations and even being a little selfish with his own desires. His wish would be for Nacht to get a clean slate in life (meaning everyone in the animal world would get a mind wipe of who Nacht is).

(Nacht and Morgen would also have a deal like Jihae and Jieun where, if one of them wins, both get to return home.)

Nozel, the silver cat (he has the attitude of a hard-to-please, stand-offish cat, let's be real). Like canon Nozel, Acier died when he was young and he was left in charge of caring for his siblings. His poorly executed protectiveness from canon effects Nebra, Solid, and Noelle now. He puts more focus on keeping them safe rather than loving them and letting them have fulfilling lives. Nozel would have your stereotypical tsundere route. He goes back and forth between brushing MC off and being endeared to MC. He would also show concern over somewhat mundane things: hanging out with people he doesn't know or trying exotic food. Not a super dark route but just sad when MC learns why he's cautious and why he refuses to show love. Nozel forgot how to love properly, worries about loving MC the wrong way, and fears having his heart broken by loving too much. His wish would be for Acier to come back to life so his family would be made whole and Noelle would actually get to meet her mother. (No, the wish isn't too out there. Someone in Dandelion also wishes to restore a life.)

Fuegoleon, the orange cat (lion is a big cat so he’s becoming a house cat). He would likely have the easiest route out of all the guys. His story is that he's a warrior in the animal world and his family has been separated. Mereoleona left to be a wanderer while Leopold is forced to hide away from Fuegoleon because some unsavory cats have beef against the upstanding Fueggy. He’s a chivalrous and kind man but his formality makes it hard to tell if he’s being polite or affectionate to MC. The big trouble in his route is his rigid sense of duty; he feels he needs to win and return home to fulfill his role to his family and people. He needs to learn how to relax and just enjoy what he likes. His wish would be to reunite his family.

William, the white and gray spotted rabbit (he’s got “soft and tame” vibes all over him and has plant associations, thus rabbit). Similar to the effect of his curse mark in canon, William is looked down upon for being spotted as it is stated in-game that solid coats are preferred in rabbits. As a result, he has some dislike for the society of the animal world. He’s glad to be in the human world as he has a fresh start. His route would be pretty tame if a bit frustrating because of his constant self-doubt issues. Thanks to Julius and Patry back in the animal world, William knows that people can care for him but there's still doubt in his mind. Doubt that the care is nothing more than pity and so true love is out of reach for him. His wish would be to reunite with his long lost friend, Patry.

.....

That's pretty much all the ideas I have in mind. I feel bad that Fuegoleon and William's sections are shorter than the other guys. I do like them, just not as much as the others. (My favoritism is showing, whoops.)

In the end, this is just me thinking silly thoughts about pretty men with animal ears.

But gosh, what I would give for a dating sim featuring the men from Black Clover. There'd be so many to choose from! And the routes... Would the dating sim follow canon? Or would it be in some alternate reality where everything is peaceful and the perfect stage for romance?

[datawyrms]

hey so do you think you could write stuff about danny and dani being cousins and maybe him visiting the ghost zone to go see her and nocturn cuz the one that mentioned that was super cool

You bet! Sorry I took awhile, I’ve been juggling things and flicking between ideas and not finishing anything :v It’s short and doesn’t go very far but hey just something to maybe expand on later, yeah? (oh look i slapped it on AO3!)

”I have no idea how you stay over here so long.” Danny shuddered, trying to ignore how green everything was. The sky should be blue, not some endless green expanse.

“Stealing to eat is a pain cuz. I don’t get why you’re always over there!” Dani rolled her eyes as she glanced at her trailing friend. “I know you like flying as much as I do and you spend most of the time pretending you can’t.”

“It’s not that hard to fly if I want to,” his shrug was dismissive, but he couldn’t keep the frown from his face. “I just don't get why you don’t just hang around the Far Frozen if you like being in the Ghost Zone.” Well, it was more ‘why can’t you hang around ghosts that HAVEN’T tried taking over the world’, but the last time he’d phrased it like that, Dani had kicked him.

“Not all of us have ice powers!”

“Uh. You totally do. Or should eventually, I guess.”

She seemed to appreciate he didn’t bother voicing the obvious, slowing down so they didn’t need to keep hollering at one another. “Nope. Frostbite didn’t seem to think so when I asked.”

“Really? Huh. Your ghost sense is like mine though isn’t it?”

“Don’t ask me, I’m just listening to big, smart and fuzzy. Just means I can get something way better than ectoblasts but Blue.”

Well when she made it that easy… “Nothing cooler though!” Ducking the hurled ectoblast was easy enough, she’d aimed a bit high.

“Looks like my power is shooting people who make bad jokes.”

“So saying to chill out would-” he broke off laughing as she tackled him at full speed, sending the two half ghosts in a barely controlled spiral. 

Still, the clone had joined in the laughing by the time the two managed to steady themselves again. “You’re awful.”

“I get too much practice.”

“No kidding. You’ve sent how many ghosts back here this week? Eight?”

“Try twenty and you’ll be getting close,” his amusement faded. He really, really should be getting back. Yet he’d promised to at least try visiting sometimes, so he had to at least get to the place. Even if every bit of him was wanting to get back to Amity already now that he was thinking about it.

“Whoops. Sorry cuz, forgot you’re reallll territorial sometimes.” Dani elbowed him, forcing Danny out of his own thoughts.

“I am not!” His denial was a bit more forceful than he’d like to admit. “You just reminded me how many ghosts might hold a grudge this week.”

“Uhhuh. Since you know we’ve been attacked so often today.” the smaller ghost paused as if she needed a moment to count. “ All zero times! The horror.”

“Real funny. Don’t you feel weird over here?” he caught her eyes, a little confused to see a complete lack of understanding. “You know...that feeling? That we don’t belong over here? That little pulsing at the back of your head?”

Her blank stare answered that well enough. “Noooope. I don’t know if that’s a ‘you’re a territorial nutcase’ or a ‘you’re a corpse stuffed with ectoplasm’ thing.”

“One, no I’m not, and two EW? Gross!” he gagged, fighting off the urge to shudder. “Someone call you that as an insult or something?”

“Mhm, Kitty was trying to explain why humans are kinda weird.” she gave a little shrug. “So we’re even weirder. Though I totally melted so I’m probably not lugging a corpse around all the time, but you might be!”

“Yup, that’s it, you spend wayyyy too much time around ghosts.” He had not expected to get a new nightmare from Dani nowadays, she’d given him plenty already. Yet life was apparently full of surprises. 

“Or you don’t spend enough time around em.”

“No, pretty sure you crossed from morbid to just disgusting there.”

“Hey, if you really want to creep someone out just crack your knuckles at em. Get a shudder out of any ghost that can’t get over to the human world, guaranteed” 

“I’m not really big into the scaring people thing.” The fact Dani was still made part of him twinge in discomfort. She was her own person, obviously. It should be a good thing that they were different in more ways as time passed...

“Pft. You’re such a human cuz” she gave him a nudge before shooting forward “Almost there! Don’t shoot at a sleepwalker if it surprises you!”

“I won’t,” he muttered, already more alert for any movement.

He didn’t really expect Nocturn’s lair to seem so inviting. He’d been expecting the dull wasteland that he’d seen back when they’d fought, dark skies, ominous towers, that sort of thing. A hazy sort of garden lit by gently swilling lights had not gotten on his list of possibilities. Even the clouds seemed to be dotted with stars now that he was close enough to see them. The tower nearby didn’t seem dangerous with the surroundings feeling so peaceful. Though that was probably a trap, all of Nocturn’s power was tied up in sleep. Getting an enemy fired up and wide awake would just make him have a harder time, wouldn’t it?

“Hmmm. I thought he’d be outside.” Dani crossed her arms, glancing at some of the nearby trees.

“I’m mostly here to see you anyway.”

“Which is why you need to see him! Otherwise you’re just gonna keep grumping about how I’m being corrupted or something.”

He’d like to deny that, but the lie would be pretty obvious. “He has better taste in lairs than takeover plans, at least.”

“There’s a place inside that has a way to see the real stars! The ones out here are nice too though.” Dani brightened at his admission, a little more animated as she pointed out the scattered ‘stardust’ clouds.

“Is that why you stay around here then?”

“That, and no nightmares. Noc can just cut them off before they start if I’m nearby.” she paused, kicking her feet. “It’s really, really nice not having to remember him every time I go to sleep.”

Well, Nocturn couldn’t be all bad if he’d help his poor clone with that. He’d be pretty tempted by a ‘no more nightmare reminders’ offer. “I bet.”

“You still think he’s up to something, don’t you.” her frown burrowed into him so he had to glance away.

“I can’t help it! We didn’t really meet on good terms.” Maybe he was being unfair, but the uncomfortable feeling he always had in the ghost zone combined with that bad history was making him jumpy.

“Do you think I’d lead you into a trap?”

“What? No!”

“Well I’m the one who invited you!”

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t plan something behind your back.”

Dani let out a frustrated groan. “He won’t! You don’t mess with family cuz.”

Danny’s retort died in his throat as Nocturn seemed to melt into visibility behind the smaller half ghost, struggling with the impulse to shove Dani out of the way to protect her.

“Sorry Dani, I was distracted by a particularly interesting set of dreams, I’ll have to show you. I think you’d enjoy them.” Nocturn seemed to have no such difficulties, speaking easily and giving her a warm smile. “Did you fly far?”

“You bet!” she nodded before glancing back. “Brought someone back while I was at it.”

Danny’s pulse quickened when the lanky ghost finally took notice of him. Had he really just...not noticed he was right there?

“Ah, your wayward cousin.” the dream ghost gave a small nod. “I expect you had an uneventful trip then?”

“Yeah, sorry if you were expecting any gossip.”

“A safe trip is the best news you could deliver regardless.” he messed with her hair, earning a hug before she pulled away.

“Nuh uh, you’re a total snoop Noc.”

Maybe he’d been a bit of a jerk for expecting something worse. They just seemed...happy. Really he just felt like he was intruding at the moment.

“Only while people sleep.” there was a hint of a laugh, but when his red eyes caught Danny again it died out. “Is there an occasion for the visit?”

Dani rolled her eyes, glancing back at Danny and his stiff posture. “Trying to get someone to relax already. Sheesh cuz, your brick wall impression is great.”

“Sorry,” he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The first impulse that he had to protect his clone had passed with the two ghosts interacting in a friendly matter, but he couldn’t quite dismiss Nocturn as a potential threat.

“Don’t be. I am aware our previous meeting made an unfavourable impression.” No apology for the attack was in those words. That, and Dani had made it pretty clear he wouldn’t be getting one either. How did ghosts just think that putting  people at risk was no big deal?

“That’s an understatement.” Dani’s scowl at his words only earned her one of his own back. “I had to use Dash as a weapon of mass destruction. It wasn’t a good day, okay?”

“Yeah, but we’re not even close to Amity and you’re still being tetchy.”

“Don’t be so hard on your cousin, Dani. He wouldn’t have made it this long without that kind of caution.”

He hadn’t really expected Nocturn to come to his defense. Great, now he felt like even more of a jerk for still wanting to punch the ghost in the face. “Uhh. Thanks?”

“I guess. Should we hold off on exploring more till another time then?” She was looking at both of them now. 

“...Yeah. I should be getting back.” Admitting it made the guilt worse, but the itching need to be away and back to his home made the idea of staying any longer sound like torture. Even if there’d be an accurate set of stars to look at.

“You are welcome at any time, though Dani does tend to roam. Safe travels.” There was no judgement from the older ghost, only a sort of understanding look.

This ghost of all people knowing how he felt better than himself was disquieting. He settled for a stiff nod before turning to take flight at his top speed. The sooner all that was behind him the better. Questioning how his feelings towards the whole situation might be more his ghost half than human half talking just wasn’t something he wanted to be thinking about right now. Later maybe, when he wasn’t this on edge.

[its-captain-sir]

Ok what I want to know is how the HELL does the clone numbering system work??? There's absolutely no rhyme or reason to it. You think they'd number them batch by batch or something but nope, batchers have totally different numbers. My next thought was that maybe they use times or something? Like this clone was decanted at 7:28 (or whatever the star wars equivalent is) so his number is CT-728. But even then there'd be clones decanted at the same time so would you have to start sticking more numbers in front of it? Like this clone's the third to be decanted at 5:34 so guess he's now CT-3534. Even that doesn't make total sense cause I'm pretty sure there's clones whose numbers don't work with the 60-minutes-an-hour way of measuring time. (Of course, star wars time could work totally different.)

... there's actually a lot of flaws with that one. Whoops.

Anyways.

Time, dates, basic organizational skills, vat numbers (that one actually seems pretty close, but it's still heavily flawed), none of them explain the numbering system AT ALL.

I've been thinking about this for a long time now and it bothers me so much that I can't figure out a possible way this could work.

[fredcilier]

winter wonderland → fredco

TAGGING → Freddie Facilier & Marco A. Dale (@marcoalandale)

TIMELINE → Christmas Break 2020

SETTING →  Sherwood Forest

SUMMARY → While home with Marco for the holidays, Freddie gets to see what a snowy paradise Sherwood Forest can sometimes be.

"Keep your eyes closed just a liiiiitle longer," Marco nearly sang, holding Freddie's hand as he guided her as gently as he could towards their destination. "We're almost there, I promise!" He wasn't usually the kind of guy who got nervous about anything, but being so close to Freddie was enough to make him a little jumpy. It was mostly in a good way though, with only a little bit of fear that he'd accidentally guide her into a tree or something worse and she'd regret coming home with him to Nottingham for the holidays. As he spotted the frozen river that cut through the Sherwood Forest in front of him with fluffy snow on the banks, though, those worries entirely floated away from his head like balloons that weren't tied to anything. There was no way the sight of all this wouldn't make her feel happy to be there. "Okay, okay, and nooooooooooow --" he held out the word as he stopped in his tracks, holding her hand still as they faced the prettiest part of the winter wonderland in the woods "-- open them!" Instead of looking out at the icy scene with her, Marco opted to look at her face instead, wanting to take in the look when she saw how gorgeous the area around them was. "Ta-da! As your Sherwood tour guide, it's my job to show you all the best parts of being here, and the frozen river? Is something I've always loved. It looks amazing AND the snow by here is the cleanest and best for snow angels or building snowmen. Or having snowball fights," he prattled on before nudging her with his elbow.

When Freddie had lied and said she'd been invited elsewhere this Christmas as a way of avoiding spending another year pining in the Bayou, she hadn't expected Marco to actually turn her lie into a truth by volunteering his home to her for the holidays. She wasn't complaining, though. His family was just as welcoming as the Dubois' had always been, and having a cute boy falling over himself to make sure she had a good time wasn't so bad, either. Still, she'd been staying a little aloof, not the type to trust people easily in the first place and definitely not wanting to go and open her heart to someone else just 'cause he was willing to take her in and make her feel special. Today was an exception, though. Closing her eyes, letting Marco lead her god knows where... it was the least she could do, and when he finally told her it was time to open her eyes, Freddie wasn't disappointed. "Damn," she breathed, glancing around at the frozen river and the fluffy white snowbanks surrounding it. "You sure this place is real and you didn't sell your soul to some witch to magic it into existence?" she asked him, arching an eyebrow. She vaguely processed that he'd said something about snowballs, and snow angels, and snowmen, but those things could wait. For now, Freddie just drank in the sight of it, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in awe.

Marco's smile grew even wider as he watched Freddie take in the view. He loved what he saw; there was something extra special about showing someone he cared so much about a place he cared so much about too. It was incredible in the first place that she was here at all, because truth be told, Marco had always had a soft spot for Freddie. She was so impressive, but more than that, she saw potential in other people too. She was cool and kind and smart and nice and when her smile met her eyes it felt like warm butter sliding down the toast of his heart. And right now, her eyes were full of wonder and it made him want to hug her and hold her and spin her around in the winter wonderland, but he hugged his arms around himself to hold back. "I'm pretty sure!" Marco laughed. "But heck, even if I did, this place is worth it, isn't it? It's like heaven on earth! I try to come down here every winter, sometimes just to sit here and look at it all. And the river is really fun to skate on too, if you dare!" He was talking about all the wonderful things there but all he could look at was Freddie.

After several years in Auradon, it always caught Freddie off guard, the way things could still surprise her. As she continued to gaze at the snowy wonderland before them, she couldn't help but think that she'd never seen anything like this before, and she appreciated that Marco had probably known that when he'd chosen to show it to her. "You right, can't imagine my friends on the other side making anything this pretty or peaceful. Think if you sold your soul for it, there'd be a few more strings attached," Freddie agreed, turning her attention from the snow to the guy beside her instead. He was a surprise to her, too. So sweet, and always seeming to want what was best for her. There was no hurdle she tossed at him that he didn't seem willing to jump, and she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to decide she wasn't worth all of that after all. It wasn't fair to him, really, the way she teased him and tested him, but after years of being hung up on Liam... She guessed she didn't even know what else to do with a genuinely nice guy, one who seemed like he might be the real deal. Freddie kept him at more of an arm's length than she should, and instead of letting that bother him, he still did things like this for her. "Skating, huh? Think I might like to try that, long as you don't mind me being too good at it," she joked, having to look away from his blinding smile before it made her feel too much. Instead, she stooped down and scooped up a ball of snow, deciding there was so much to do, but that patting it together and gently lobbing it at his chest was a good place to start. "Losing a skating race might hurt less than me whooping you at a snowball fight though," she laughed wickedly, already scooping up a second ball to hit him with.

Marco had never really thought about the friends on the other side that the Faciliers talked about -- how could he, when the friends he had on this side were so amazing? He wasn't sure he wanted to know about that other stuff anyway, it sounded almost scary. Still, he laughed at her comment and when she finally turned to look at him, he swore his heart jumped a whole beat. She was so pretty. So pretty and so funny and so here. Just seeing her in Sherwood was enough to make him feel melty all the time. "I love that you're good at things," Marco blurted when Freddie mentioned skating, and it was true. Thankfully, she hit him in the chest with a snowball before a full list of things he loved about Freddie spilled out of his mouth like a waterfall. He burst out laughing at the contact, his eyes widening in surprise. "Bring it on!" he giggled, scooping down to get his own snowball made. He padded as big a snowball as he could, and he ducked so that he could have a better chance of hitting her with it before getting hit again. He yelled out "For Sherwood!" as he tossed it at her, getting started on forming some more balls to lob at her. Snowball fights were one of the best parts of winter, and sharing it with Freddie was something he knew he'd never forget.

Sometimes, Freddie laughed off the way Marco talked to her like he was just joking, just being over the top as some kind of game. Other times, though, he looked at her like this, like she was something completely magnificent and like he really did think the world of her, and it stopped her completely in her tracks. How could someone so genuinely good and nice really be so into her ? It didn't compute, but damn, it didn't have to make sense to start doing things to her heart. "Nah, not just good, great," she retorted, her usual brash confidence hiding the fact that being around him when he was like this really did catch her off guard. "Wow, you taking me down for your whole home?" Freddie laughed, ducking out of the way of his onslaught. "I'mma beat you just for me," she shot back, eyeing his giant snowball with trepidation. If that shit hit her she'd end up cold, and she'd never been great at the cold thing... but it would be worth it, if she could catch him unaware. Leaving all but one of the small pile of snowballs she'd started accumulating lying on the ground, Freddie decided to take him by surprise, racing forward and trying to tackle him so that she could make damn sure to give him a face full of snow.

Marco had no doubt that Freddie would be great at snowball fights, because duh, she was good at everything, but he wasn't a slouch at this either. It was fun to laugh and tease each other but he wanted to put up a good fight; maybe then she would realize he was like one of those manly men she liked so much, and even if she didn't, a snowball fight was too much fun to half-ass. Still, even as he told himself to go hard on her, he packed the snowballs more loosely than if he was going against Cassie or Rachel or Robbie or Mary Kate or anyone else he'd grown up with. Freddie was just different. She always had been, and he'd known it since he met her and hadn't been able to look away. He'd expected her to start throwing her small pile of snowballs from a distance so when she raced at it, he was genuinely startled and an "ooph!" escaped him as he fell back, tripping on the snow and falling on his back. He giggled, despite being covered in snow and Freddie. "Truce, true," Marco laughed, looking up at her. "Are you okay?"

Freddie hadn't expected to actually manage to topple Marco over with her attack, but she grinned wickedly in her triumph, relishing in it for a moment until he started talking again, calling for a truce. "Wow, you gonna give up that easy?" she teased, trying to ignore the way that even though layers of snow-friendly clothes, she liked the way his body felt pressed up against hers like this. Was that all it was, though? Just his body? She didn't know, and it didn't seem fair to follow some kinda urge knowing that her stupid, traitorous heart was still hung up somewhere it didn't belong. "I'm more than good, I just won my first snowball fight'a the trip," Freddie taunted him, still not in any particular hurry to move. "You for real about that truce thing, or am I gonna get up just to get tossed right back down into the snow?" As she said it, a lightbulb went off in Freddie's head, and she said, "Actually..." as she rolled reluctantly off of Marco, flopping into the snow beside him and starting to wave her arms and legs around to make an angel.

Marco's face was lit up, both with adrenaline and with a blush that came from being so close to Freddie. He hadn't been expecting it, and it was so nice feeling someone on him and seeing her face just inches from his. He probably could've laid there like that for hours, until his body heat melted the snow beneath him and his jacket got all wet and useless and he got so chilly that he had a cold, and it would've all been worth it just to be so close to her and her smile. "I hadn't even thought about faking the truce," Marco admitted with a grin, "but thanks for the idea. I think we're good though, for now." He added that last part with a chuckle and then, sadly, she was off of him. A lump in his throat formed as the closeness was cut off but it was okay, because she was making snow angels and it looked too fun not to join in with; his arms and legs started going too, but his head stayed looking at her. "Your form is great! You never told me you were an expert snow angel maker," he smiled.

"'Course you didn't," Freddie laughed, shaking her head. Was there an ounce of badness in this boy's body? Or was everything about him just sweet and kind all the time? She'd never met anybody like him; even the supposed 'nice folks' of Auradon had their dark sides, their judgmental tendencies or their insecurities that made them lash out. And everybody on the Isle knew how to be mean, whether they were all the time or not. Marco was a breed of his own, though, and it made her wish that she could feel that tug towards him, that inescapable pull of her heart that had been drawing her to Liam for years now. She wanted it so bad, but she just wasn't there yet, and Freddie had to wonder if she ever would be. In the meantime, though, he was a hell of a friend, and he'd be fun to corrupt a little. Not now, though. Not in this snowy wonderland where everything felt so beautiful and peaceful. "And boy, you're not the only angel around here. I was born for this," Freddie laughed, spreading her wings gracefully again. She snuck a peek over at Marco, though, his smile infectious as he made a snow angel of his own. This might not be the guaranteed 'get over someone else quick' trip she'd hoped it would be, but it was making her feel safe, and appreciated, and welcomed, at a time of year when nobody should be alone. She could have stayed like this all break, but she knew there was more to do and more to see, so she flashed him another wicked grin and asked, "So you gonna keep letting me be better at alla this snow stuff than you, or is there something we're gonna do today that you're better at than me?" she quipped, knowing that whatever lay ahead was sure to be just as good.

[lennonknowsmysins]

if a girl cries in the woods, does she make any sound?

beatle: john

summary: today has been a day and all you want to do is sit in this clump of trees by yourself. unfortunately, a certain teddy boy can’t stand to leave any pretty girl alone. 

shy!fem!reader

warnings: sexual harassment, bullies

a/n: it’s been a rollercoaster of a week, i need some soft teddy boys

-

Exhaustion.

That was your only emotion.

Well, that and frustration. 

The dark bags under your eyes were beginning to look more like war paint. You’d been up practically all night the past week, writing and perfecting that stupid essay about Hamlet only for your teacher to mock and scorn your ideas in front of the class. So what if he didn’t think Ophelia should be angry. It was a play, not history. The story was meant to be read from different perspectives.

When the bell finally rung to signal the end of school and save you from the stares that might as well have been a series of sucker punches, you scurried out of the classroom before you could be asked to stay behind. A million thoughts ran through your head. You should have defended yourself, tried to argue your reasoning rather than just sitting there and taking it. Or maybe you should have just written that her entire character was meant to be sad and mopey, and only over Hamlet. No. If the teacher had a differing opinion, he should have discussed with you in private, not insulted you while your peers watched. That was just a low blow.

A whistle caught your attention as you reached the bottom of the steps. A group of teddy boys, already outside from cutting class, gestured for you to come over. You hesitated, weary of their intentions. They had a habit of saying rude things to girls. Nevertheless, the boys kept calling for you. 

“Come on, doll, we just need your brain!”

You thought for a second. Maybe they needed help with homework or something. Were they going to try and get you to do their math for them? You supposed that couldn’t be too bad. You could at least get them to give you money. 

Keeping an eyebrow raised, you trudged towards them, ready to turn on your heels the moment any of them mentioned your tits. You clutched your books to your chest as you reached the one that had spoken. He grinned easily, running a hand through a quiff of blond hair. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that John hung back. That was unusual, you thought, considering he was normally the ring leader. Your focus was brought back to the boy in front of you when grabbed your hand, kissing it softly.

“We heard you’re pretty smart. Always turning everything in and such.” He cooed, pressing your hand to his chest. You shrugged, pink spreading across your face. He chuckled, “Don’t be humble, sweetcheeks, be nice to yourself.”

You gave him a small smile, unsure of how to react. He squeezed your hand and continued, “Do you know what they say about smart girls?”

His grin widened as you shook your head, “They keep their cunts nice and tight.”

Your face fell as the entire rotten gaggle burst into laughter. You yanked your hand away, dropping your books. The cackles grew louder when another one kicked them away from you. It was only replaced with a whoop as you bent over to pick them up. The blond’s hand shot out and pulled your skirt up, revealing your baby pink knickers to the world and making the boys applaud. You gasped in horror, standing straight up to pull your skirt back down and ran away with whatever you’d managed to grab. The voices followed you, mockingly pleading for you to come back and promising they’d think of your ass tonight. 

Mortified tears slid down your cheeks and your whole face was bright red, the stinging air not helping any. You stopped when you reached a park you were unfamiliar with, sitting down on the closest bench. It wasn’t a bad little spot. There were lots of trees and you felt like you had some privacy. You set your books aside to hug your knees, hiding your face in them. You looked up when someone sat down next to you but scoffed when you saw who it was.

“Go away, Lennon. I’m not going to put out for you or any of your little friends.”

“Y’know, I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say something more two words.”

You glared at him and turned your head away to wipe at your eyes angrily. He sighed.

“‘m sorry, shouldn’t have said that. S’not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?” You spat, whipping your head back around. He placed a paper on your stack. Your essay. 

“You forgot this. I’ve never read Hamlet, but that Ophelia gal deserves better.” He said softly. You snatched the paper, crumbling it up and throwing to your feet. You’d pick it up later. “So then you’re the one that Mr. Adams made fun of today, aren’t ya, love?”

You nodded silently, training your eyes on a squirrel rooting in the leaves. John waited a moment for you to say something. He carried on when you didn’t, “He shouldn’t have done that. S’a real git move.”

“Guess I just got the wrong impression when I read the play.” You said simply, avoiding starting any real conversation. He shook his head.

“It’s up to the reader how they think a character is feeling. And even if you did get it wrong, he still shouldn’t have done that. I think he just needs some sort of reassurance that his life is worth living so he picked on you. Knows yer shy, like. He gave up trying to bully me last year. Every time he tried to act like some sort of prizing winning professor, I just reminded him that the only good he’s doing teaching delinquents was that I’d be able to argue my way out of getting arrested by quoting Victor Hugo at the coppers. Think I hurt his feelings.”

You chuckled a tad at his anecdote. He had a point. Mr. Adams clearly wasn’t happy with his life choices and you had just been an easy target that he knew wouldn’t fight back, despite your fiery writing.

“You’ll probably need those sweet talking skills if you keep letting your friends harass people.”

“Right, that’s really why I found you,” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I have no idea what they thought that’d be funny.”

Oh sure, and that’s why he let it happen.

“Then why didn’t you do anything about it?” You retorted, rolling your eyes at him. He stuttered sheepishly, fumbling for an answer. It was almost enjoyable to watch cool, suave, fuck everyone about myself John Lennon loose his tongue. Especially to someone quiet like you. 

“I, uh, I dunno know.” He whispered lamely, suddenly avoiding your gaze. 

“John, it was really humiliating.” You quavered, not bothering to hid the hurt in your voice as it broke. He didn’t say anything, he just kept staring at his shoes, shame clearly written all over his face. “John, all of your friends saw my knickers, and don’t think that I didn’t hear them talking about touching themselves to the thought of me, and you let them.”

“They’re not my friends.” He shot back immediately. You huffed, your patience with him wearing thin.

“Then why do you hang out with them?” For the second time, you got him to splutter on his answer.

“I-Well, who am I supposed to hang out with? You?”

“Yes.” You shouted without thinking. You looked at each other for a split second before blushing madly and becoming interested in the ground. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Would you actually like that? If we were friends?” He asked quietly, daring to steal a glance in your direction. You nodded and he smiled, “I’d like that too.”

You weren’t entirely convinced however. How were you supposed to know to know that he didn’t have the same sick sense of humor as those other boys. The thought of them crudely moaning your name as you’d walked away made you shiver in disgust. If John wanted to be close with you, you had to be sure there’d be no repeat incidents with him. “But I don’t want to be friends with someone who’ll make jokes about my privates.”

“Love, I swear that I won’t. I won’t even touch you with asking you first.” He promised, placing a hand on your knee and quickly retracting it. “’cept for that, but that was an accident.”

You smiled, shaking your head, “I didn’t mind.”

He grinned. He had a sweet grin. It was genuine, unlike the blond boy’s cruel smirk. A leather clad arm wrapped around your shoulders gingerly, “This alright, then?”

Before you could reply, the wind decided to pick up, the chill in the autumn air sending a hard shiver through you. You nearly whined as John withdrew his arm but you stopped any attempt at complaining when you realize he was taking off his beloved leather jacket to drape over you. Your breath hitched. It was warm and comfortable. Not to mention, it smelled nice. “Thank you, John.”

“S’ cold out, birdie, can’t let you freeze. Silly girl, not wearing wear her coat.” He teased, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, letting you do the same to him before putting his arm back. You leaned against his shoulder, sighing heavily, “It’s been a long day.”

“I know, poor thing. I’m sorry for all that shit that happened to you. And that it got you stuck being my friend.”

“You’re not so bad, Lennon.”

“Thanks, birdie. You don’t suck either.”

John’s heart was a flutter and he desparetly wished that this could last forever. Maybe he’d finally be able to get of those gits (Paul wasn’t a fan of them either). Maybe he’d finally have a friend that his aunt liked. 

And maybe. 

Just maybe.

He’d finally win over that girl with sweet smile that he couldn’t get out of his head.

At least maybe.  

[angelanimedesaray]

Survive Or Live Chapter 4: Baby Steps

AN:  I am soooo sorry its been so long, guys, I hadn’t realized how much I’d been putting off this chapter, but as soon as I did, I jumped right on top of writing it again, I did not mean to neglect it for a whole month, whoops!

Characters:  Levi, Reader

Pairing:  (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings:  Language, aaaaaand that’s pretty much it.  They’re feeling each other out (Not that way, you filthy minded peers of mine, bwahaha) so there’s not much going on outside of that right now.

Word Count:  4229

<---Previous Chapter    Masterlist      

*Mae’s POV*

Thankfully, there wasn’t that much gore on Mae’s clothes from today’s trip because of the scarcity of Rotters while she’d wandered the town.  So it didn’t take long for her to scrub out the stains that were on her shirt--it just took some elbow grease and some numbness in her fingers after her hands were plunged in the water so long.  There was a shaded spot by the bank that was thick with trees, giving her plenty of cover away from any unwelcome eyes while she worked while she had a clear view around her immediate surroundings.  It was a decently long walk away from the farmhouse, which meant she was going to have to haul water back an unpleasant distance so Levi would have water to do his laundry.  He could probably rest comfortably on the steps with his leg elevated on one of her gas tanks or something.  On the bright side, she just needed to haul the water over, he was the one who had to scrub all that gore and grass stains out of the clothes, not her.  She could settle for that trade.

Though, on another downside, it was going to take about six trips, three to the river and three back, simply for the laundry today.  Thank God she wasn’t out of shape.

Six trips later, with her laundry put up on a line in the backyard between two trees, two buckets of water sitting at the foot of the steps as well as a large gas cannister for Levi to elevate his leg on, and her arms aching far more than she wanted to admit, Mae skipped up the steps, heaving a sigh as she walked back inside.  Levi was still stretched out on the couch, though considering he was facing the front of the house and could see out the window, he’d probably been watching her make three times as many trips as normal simply to get him set up to do his laundry.

“All right, I got you all set up to do your laundry on the steps, if you’re okay with doing that now,” Mae said, clawing back some sweaty strands of hair that were plastered to her forehead after lugging the full buckets all the way from the river to the house.  Levi was already rising off the couch halfway through her sentence, being mindful of his leg but still moving with overall ease as he started for the door.  His hand trailed across the occasional surface, looking like a simple passing touch, but Mae was suspicious it was actually for a bit more added stability as he did an odd sort of stubborn hobble to and out the door.  Considering all the fuss he’d made so far about helping him, Mae let him be stubborn, so long as he wasn’t putting any--or at least not much--weight on his injured leg.

“I’ll make dinner while you’re doing that!” she called after him, the only response the sound of the door shutting behind him.

Not too friendly...I guess I understand why, he has an injury that could put him on bedrest for a month or longer which could be a death sentence in certain sticky apocalypse situations, he’s stuck with a stranger, I can only imagine what happened to draw practically all the Rotters in town to him…but still.

Shaking her head, Mae started flickering through different rooms of the house both upstairs and downstairs, gathering the things she needed for dinner, getting a fire started in the fireplace, and even remembering to grab a few things for Levi to pass the time with since he was going to be stuck on the couch for a while.  Dinner ingredients was the last thing she gathered, already grabbing one of the bouillon cubes she’d found on her scavenging trip today, a mix of white and black beans, water she’d already purified and stored for drinking and cooking...

She hesitated in the kitchen, hand hovering over a stash of some of her more...richer ingredients.  Or at least, ingredients she was hesitant to use because she’d noticed her guest was so sharp.  Sure, she was trusting him enough to let her into her home, but he was also injured, so she felt she might be able to take him in a fight if things turned sour.  And while she had shared some of her medical supplies with him, she hadn’t showed him where she was hiding them because she didn’t trust him that much, yet.  Did she really want to use ingredients that could tip off her sharp guest to the fact that she was a little more well off than most, that she had a comfortable set up that allowed her a source for fresh seasonings?  Did she want to suggest that what she was putting in their dinner wasn’t all scavenged, that some of it...was grown?  That the beans weren’t canned and pilfered from town?  That she had a spot she could grow green chilis?

Not to mention, she liked using those chilis in the winter, so she stored as much as she could.  Did she really want to tap into that storage now?  Normally what she was making she’d save for the winter, but Levi was injured, and she wanted to cook something a little more feel-good because of that.  He was in a shitty situation, she knew that, and she was willing to try and make it better for him.

Cause even if she still did have the survival sense and caution to not blindly, completely trust him right away, she was trying to build a bridge here, not raze the entire forest to the ground.  Even if the basic caution levels of today’s world wanted her to not do certain things, she had to in order to extend an olive branch and hopefully get someone to talk to.

She didn’t want to go crazy from the isolation, especially while knowing what was happening to her but being unable to do anything about it.

She didn’t want to survive if it meant withering away forgotten in some quiet corner of the world.

She didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Was it too much to ask that she had someone in her life again, someone that--from what she had seen--was perfectly capable of taking care of themselves so she wouldn’t have to worry about them.  She didn’t care if he was a friend, a neighbor, or even the old world equivalent of that delivery guy you saw so much you were on a first name basis, she just wanted another human being somehow involved in her life again.

Screw it.

Mae shook her head, grabbing green chilis, onions, garlic, oregano, and cloves without any further hesitation.  If she wanted to make a change, she had to throw caution to the wind.  She was gonna be kind even if this ended up being a mistake and her guest turned on her.  She had to be willing to trust and make an effort with people if she wanted people in her life again.  Sure, there were a greater amount of dangerous people left in the world that meant she had to be careful, but that didn’t mean there weren't any decent people left.  She wasn’t going to know if it was the right choice if she didn��t try, and she was already this deep into this situation, what was the point of hesitating now?  He hadn’t hurt her, he’d let her help him, even with his stubborn ‘I can take care of myself’ attitude.  So far, she had no reason not to trust him except paranoia.  She’d keep giving him more trust little at a time until he gave her a reason not to.

*Levi’s POV*

With his turtleneck sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his leg propped up on the gas canister as comfortably as he could manage, Levi scrubbed at the plethora of stains on his clothes.  He was glad to have something to do with his hands, something he enjoyed, nonetheless, but his gaze still roamed across his surroundings while he worked.

There was plenty of open space stretching out in front of the farmhouse that gave Mae enough of a warning if one of the ghouls or a group of them were coming--something that would come in handy if and when that horde in town decided to migrate, which could lead them this way.  He didn’t care much for the treeline, though.  It gave too much cover for an approaching horde or a hostile group of people--by the time either broke through the forest, it would be too late to try moving.  It was either standing and fighting, maybe escaping with next to nothing in the truck if Mae managed to avoid getting shot by a hostile group in the process, escaping on foot out the back, or, in the case of a horde, she could try to hunker down and wait it out until it passed.  That all depended on if she had the nerves to withstand being surrounded by a horde for an unknown length of time, and enough supplies to last a week or more in case the horde took a while to pass.  He didn’t know what her food situation was--yet--though she seemed to be set with her other supplies.  She was apparently comfortable enough to willingly give him pain meds--not the cheap kind, either--and was confident enough to not even ask for anything in return from him when he’d asked for her hay.

He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

This was some sort of trick, right?  Was she trying to get him more and more indebted to her before asking something truly taxing from him?  Did she just want him indebted to her indefinitely so she could continue to ask things of him in the future, no matter how much he didn’t want to do them?  She couldn’t be doing all of this for him out of a good-hearted nature and a simple desire to talk to someone.

Then again...if she was as well off as he suspected with what he had seen of her supplies…

He hadn’t been the most sociable person even before the world went to shit, so it didn’t bother him being alone, and he’d still had Scout and Ash to talk to if he really wanted to.  But Mae really was out here by herself from what he could tell so far--that could wear a person down after so long, he was pretty sure there’d been studies about that to prove as much.

Only time would tell if she was truly genuine or if she was planning on pulling the rug out from under him when she thought he least expected it.  He’d have to stay on guard, and wait and see what her true intentions really were.  It wasn’t like he was able to do much else in the meantime.

As Levi finished with the last of his laundry, his gaze returned to the far end of the field, attention caught by the sight of movement amongst the trees.  After a few more moments of following the distant motion with his gaze, a ghoul finally broke through the treeline, stumbling blindly towards the farmhouse with a lazy, unguided gait.

Levi was already getting to his feet, hand twitching towards the katana at his side before the door opened behind him and Mae appeared, strolling casually past him with bow and a single arrow in hand.

“Dinner’s nearly ready, if you want to head back inside.  I’ll go ahead and hang your clothes up with mine, so you can just leave those there,” she called, knocking the arrow and partially pulling the string back.

Mae whistled, just loud enough that the lone ghoul would hear, but soft enough it was faint even to Levi’s ears, which lowered the risk of drawing any other ghouls towards them.  Levi started to head inside, still watching Mae as the ghoul turned its attention towards her and starting running at her.  She simply brought her bow to a full draw, held perfectly still for maybe two or three seconds, then released, the arrow sailing right through the ghoul’s eye before it could even close half the distance to her.  With one last glance around the treeline, Levi tore his gaze from Mae as she made her way to retrieve the arrow, and made his way inside.

If she was good enough with that bow to hit infected barreling towards her with one clean head shot, surely she was decent at game hunting, too.  Sure, you couldn’t get a rabbit or a deer to come at you like you could an infected, but moving around towns to scavenge also required a certain level of stealth to avoid drawing the attention of too many ghouls.  Put that together with her aim, she was probably perfectly capable of bagging a few rabbits or squirrels, perhaps even a deer if she was lucky enough to come across one.

Levi paused, halfway to the couch.  Was he really already calculating what more she could possibly offer him if they did enter into some kind of agreement going forward?  He hadn’t even decided if he trusted her or not, yet.  Then again, it wasn’t like he could shut that part of his brain off--it was all about survival these days, and whether he decided she was a potential ally (something he hadn’t had in a long time) or a threat, he needed to know what she was capable of, and what she had.

Levi resumed his position on the couch with his leg propped up on throw pillows, breathing in the strong scent of...chili?  He looked over at the fireplace to what must have once been a metal gallon paint can now being used as a makeshift campfire pot, the source of the smell.  The scent opened his airways as he tried to pick out what he was smelling exactly, able to pick out the smell of chicken easily.

There was no way there was actual chicken in that can, was there?  He hadn’t seen any chickens running around the farmyard, and from his experience finding a can of chicken that was still good was like winning the lottery these days.

Aside from the distracting aroma of whatever was in that makeshift pot, Levi also noticed there was now a candle, a flip lighter, and a few books on the coffee table, all within arm’s reach.  He picked through the titles to see what options she’d given him, a small frown on his face as he did so.

A compilation of a thousand poems, a compilation of short stories, the novelization of the original trilogy of Star Wars, and the last two Lord of the Rings books.  All but the short stories were pocket book sized, so maybe she could justify packing them around if they looked smaller...even if they were still thick books.  You had to keep some kind of entertainment when it was just you out here, right?  For him, it was pretty much survival work and cleaning what he could with what he had.  For Mae, it looked like books were what she preferred.

Well, at least there was some variety and he wouldn’t be stuck looking at the same book over and over again.

Mae came back inside, not a speck of blood on her and hands shining with water after putting his clothes on the line, setting her bow back in its spot by the door before she disappeared briefly into the kitchen  After coming back with two bowls and spoons, she started divvying out what was in the can.  Levi noticed a lack of white meat in what he could now visually confirm as a chili of some kind as Mae passed him his share, though he definitely smelled chicken, much stronger now that he had a steaming hot bowl in hand.

She’d managed to get her hands on broth, then.  A find he envied her for, though the envy was abated since she was sharing it with him right now.  And even though the chili was missing the meat, it looked like it had everything else.

As they ate in silence, Levi mulled over the taste, doing his damndest not to look at Mae and tip her off to the fact that he was coming to quite a few conclusions simply from the chili.  There were herbs in this, and onions, maybe garlic, not to mention two different kinds of beans--not only was it the fact that she had these ingredients that caught his attention, but it was also the fact that it tasted fresh.  He knew the difference between processed shit that had been sitting for a long time on a shelf, and actual, fresh foods.  He hadn’t seen a blatant garden around her farmhouse, yet, but now he was sure that she was comfortable enough and had been here long enough to be growing things.  The only thing that was definitely scavenged for this was the broth and maybe some of the beans.  She didn’t have livestock (clearly, who did, in times like these?), but she was growing things.  And here she was, wasting more of her resources on him, wanting him to come by regularly and at least take her hay--he could probably work out a trade of some kind for whatever she was growing if he kept an eye out for something she didn’t have, something he could give in return since he was positive the currency of companionship only extended so far.

Slow down, don’t jump the gun, you’re smarter than that.  Figure out if you can trust her or not before you start planning for a trade partnership of some kind.

This all had to be too good to be true, there had to be a catch somewhere.  He just hoped he could figure out what it was sooner, rather than later.

*Mae’s POV*

Even if her current guest was frustratingly hard to converse with, at least she wasn’t alone anymore.  Levi was a man of few words, it seemed, while Mae seemed to have too many to spare.  He didn’t stop her from chattering at him, but he didn’t respond much, which made it hard to continue conversations.  As such, Mae found herself continuously trying to think of ways (with increasing complexity) to get the stoic man to have to respond to whatever she said.  It was starting to get to the point she was sure she was simply making a fool of herself every time she tried.  At this point, she was positive he knew what she was doing, and was purposely making it difficult for her for his own amusement.  She hadn’t forgotten that one time she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch towards a smile, or the amused glint in his eyes when she’d finally thrown in the towel one day with a pout and a huff of frustration.  If he really was doing it on purpose...well, it was frustrating, but at least she knew he had a sense of humor, even if at the moment it was at her expense.

Of course, she was also rapidly running out of topics to talk about that didn’t intrude into personal subject matters she knew for a fact were still far, far off limits.

Today, however, there was bound to be a conversation of some sorts, since she was finally checking his leg to decide once and for all if it was fractured or sprained.  Which meant she was also going to be telling him whether he was stuck on her couch even longer, or if he was going to be allowed to start moving around again.  For the time being, Levi’s steel blue eyes were trained on Mae as she prodded at his leg, eyes looking for bruising or swelling, fingers feeling for sensitive spots along bone or muscle…

“Well, it’s not fractured,” she eventually announced, noticing that some of the tension seemed to leave Levi’s shoulders at the news.  “But it is still a rather nasty sprain.  You’re going to need another two, three weeks out of the action to make a full recovery.  More time off your feet at the start, and then slowly getting back to moving around--”

Levi was already shaking his head, moving to sit up and pull his leg away but finding himself stopped by Mae keeping a vice grip where her hand was still resting just above his calf.  “I can’t wait that long, I have to get back--”

As he tried to stand again, Mae pushed him back down with more effort than she cared to admit.  “You’re going to stay on bedrest if you don’t want to fuck up your leg any worse than it already is.  Would you rather be stuck on bedrest for a month or more?” she pointed out sharply.

Levi scowled, looking out the window once more and stewing silently with his thoughts as Mae got started re-wrapping his leg.  He seemed like a rather practical person, so Mae figured that after telling him trying to go running around on a still healing leg was going to simply restrict him to more bed-rest to heal a worse injury, that would be the end of it.

Apparently not.

“There’s a horse where I’ve been staying.  It's why I need the hay.  What I left for him will be running out either today or tomorrow.”  As Levi spoke, his entire posture was taunt, like the information was being forcibly pulled from him by necessity.  He wasn’t looking at Mae, either, gaze still stubbornly fixed out the window.  “That’s why I can’t wait.  I need to get back.”

Mae leaned back, feeling her molars start to grind together out of annoyance as she let out a long breath through her clenched teeth.  “What the hell?”

Levi’s gaze snapped back towards Mae, and he appeared genuinely surprised to see that her reaction to the news was annoyed anger.

“You should have said something earlier, this could have been handled better,” she huffed, pausing in her wrapping and taking a moment to consider what she could do.  It wasn’t like she was going to let his horse starve.  He needed to be off that leg as much as possible, but she didn’t have a trailer or anything to put a horse in if she was going to make a retrieval trip by herself, not to mention she doubted Levi was going to let her go to his safehouse by herself when they hardly knew each other.  Sure, she’d let him see hers, but that didn’t mean he trusted her enough to show her his--or at least let her wander around unsupervised.  At least while Levi was here, he couldn't really move around, and the ground floor was open enough she could see if he tried hobbling about.  They’d both have to go.  That way he could be sure she wasn’t sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, and they could have one of them drive back while the other rode the horse--preferably Mae, so Levi wouldn’t be jostling that leg too much.  As for what to actually do with the horse...well, there was plenty of hay, here, and it was a farmhouse for a reason.  She’d have to do some work, but she could set something temporary up in time for the horse to come down tomorrow, at the earliest.

Shaking her head, Mae resumed wrapping his leg.  “Today, I’ll go make sure the barn is in stable condition--no holes or anything like that, set up a spot for your horse, get some hay out of the field, and tomorrow we can bring...you said him?  We can bring him down here so he’s looked after and fed, and I can still keep an eye on you so you don’t mess up that leg.  And I can start looking at fixing that fence so they’re not cooped up in that barn the whole time you’re recovering.”

“I don’t want--” Levi started to say in what was surely protest at the thought of Mae finding out where he was living, but she quickly cut him off.

“Well how else are you going to get up there and back down without me?  I don’t have a trailer for you to put a horse in, and if you try getting your horse down here yourself, you’ll probably put a lot of stress on that leg and end up stuck down here with me even longer.  I’m coming so life is easier for both of us.  End of story.”

Levi’s eyes flashed in annoyance.  “If you’re so keen on getting me talking, are you ever gonna stop interrupting me?”

“Probably not when you’re just going to be difficult,” Mae sassed.  She wished she had a pair of glasses to peer over as she looked up at him, simply to complete the effect.  Levi’s scowl only deepened, retreating back into that silence that Mae had been going nuts trying to crack all this time.  Ah, well, at least they’d had something of a conversation today.  It was a hell of a lot better than talking to the sky or the occasional rotter.

Tags:  @humanitys-hottestsoldier​ @arthurmorgan-wiki​

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Hey AU Danny, sorry to keep bothering you. Did you get Isaac's message? I hate to think about you sitting there alone, blaming yourself for betraying the first man you've let touch you since your captivity, by forcing him into captivity of his own. Just checking in! ❤

(this is referring to THIS RB from Athena earlier that I miiiiiight have forgotten to reply to whoops)

“You didn’t have to, um, to tell him.”

Nate sighs, closing his eyes, feeling the first stirrings of a headache starting to find their way into his mind. “D-Danny, I wanted to h-help-”

“You don’t even know what’s wrong!”

“I would know, if y-y-you would tell m-me! Or him! Or an, anyone!”

“How the fuck can I tell him, he’s on the fucking run from my fucking family!”

“Is that it? Is that why y-y-you’re acting this way, just because of th-that? Is that why you're so... why you w-won’t... why you’re-”

“Acting like I did when I first came home?”

Silence.

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what Gavin said, or-”

“So it was G-Gavin.”

“Sit down, Nate, you can’t... you can’t kill all my problems away!”

“I can fucking well try! What d-did he s-s-say to you?”

“I already knew everything Gavin said to me! It doesn’t matter, Nate, it, it doesn’t, thank you for telling Isaac. Thank you. That, that means a lot that he sent the... the video. But I just-… I’m just... I’m sad, Nate. I’m allowed to be sad that I lost someone.”

“Y-Yeah you are, b-b-but-”

“It’s... it’ll be fine, Nate. I just... you know, when Ryan said they were coming I knew I should have stayed away from the house for the weekend, I just, um. I thought I could-... I didn’t know that he’d be perfect, I didn’t-... know there’d be someone so good. And you know-... there was this person, who said-... they kind of said maybe Isaac would rather be dead than have to be with me, and it just-... you know - I get it - if, if I was him, I’d kind of rather be-”

“Don’t say that.”

“Sorry. I, I won’t say it. But I just-”

“Danny. You heard Isaac’s m-m-message. Can you pl-please trust that he’s telling you what he r-r-really feels? Please? For m-me?”

“Yeah, I... I know he wanted to make me feel better-”

“Danny, I’m n-not stupid and don’t act like I am. He isn’t trying to m-m-make you feel better. He’s saying what he r-r-really feels.”

More silence.

“I... I hope so. That’d be... that’d be nice. But Gavin-”

“Fuck G-G-Gavin S-Stormbeck! You took punishment for th-that little sniveling sh-shit for more than a y-y-year! That asshole doesn’t kn-know anything, why would you listen to him? Why listen to whoever said that thing about Isaac? Wh-why?”

“Because they’re just saying the stuff I already knew. Can you send Isaac something that says thank you, for his message?”

“S-Send it yourself, Danny.”

“No, he... he probably doesn’t want to, um, to see me-”

“Send it y-y-yourself.”

[bigskydreaming]

I'm not sure if you got my request because i didn't had internet when i sent it, so i'll write it again xd Do you think Dick (and the batboys in general) are famouse like Bruce? Because in the comics there's not any clue about it, i've never seen anyone say something like "oh look! Its Dick Grayson!, y'know, Wayne's first ward/son And its a shame, because reporters would make such a hard life to all of them, it would maka a good narrative tool

Honestly, this is a prime example of that inconsistency I rant about, and also DC’s refusal to just COMMIT on even the most basic aspects of their universe like….uh…how many kids does Batman have. 

afhsahfklahsklfhal

Like, you would think that would meet the MINIMUM requirements of “shit you should probably have figured out and make sure everybody’s on the same page with” but DC’s like….nah, that’s not important.

So I mean…..I’m reasonably certain - like this is just my personal belief, but I’d put money on it being right, lol - but I think the primary reason there’s so little mention in the comics of how Bruce’s kids are viewed in the public eye/how much the public are aware of them (in the New 52, at least, as pre-Flashpoint there was a lot more plot around that kind of thing, especially back in the 80s and 90s)……

…is because 90% of the writers and editors have no clue either, and nobody wants to be the one to ask, and like, open that can of worms. I 100% think you could ask five different writers at DC which kids Bruce has OFFICIALLY adopted in this current continuity, and get five different answers, lol.

There’s been so much handwaving about Dick’s status ever since Spyral, and again - I think its because nobody bothered to think through the logistics of the Hypnos/global-mindwipe machine BEFORE writing it into the story, and then once it did occur to any of them to like….wonder just how specifically it worked, they were like, fuck it, better just be as vague as possible. So, according to Grayson, everyone Helena didn’t program into the exclusion list before the satellite was activated should have no recollection of Dick Grayson, which is why he was able to ‘go back to his old life’ and be Nightwing again, without worrying about his secret identity having been unmasked…..

But what does that mean for his official identity as adopted son or even just ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne? People can’t have NO memory of Dick Grayson and still remember that Bruce Wayne took in a kid named Dick Grayson. I mean, as far as I can tell, the overall consensus in the comics seems to be that after the satellite was activated, Dick just kinda started from scratch as ‘Dick Grayson’ like, he was free to be himself again, but it was like he was a blank slate/came out of nowhere as far as everyone else was concerned. But again, that means as far as anyone outside of their close circle of family and friends know….Dick Grayson is a non-entity to Bruce Wayne and the two have no history. 

Which I mean, is fairly shitty and you’d think if nothing else, there’d be massive story potential there for delving into Dick’s character and his relationship with Bruce and examining how he felt about ‘having his old life/identity back’….except with the caveat that as far as the world is concerned, his life and identity don’t and have never included his father.

Cut to DC: Naaaaaaaah.

But even WITH that, plot holes persist, and abound, because…..why didn’t the satellite erase the Court of Owls’ knowledge/memory of Dick? Even before Luthor gave Cobb those goggles and files to help him with bringing Ric into the fold, Cobb clearly was already stalking Ric and knew exactly who he was….the Court obviously already had that doctor in place while he was still in recovery…so, whoops. I mean, you could probably come up with an explanation about the Court, via their own tech and resources, having had some protections in place 24/7 that kept the satellite from affecting them even though they weren’t on guard for it specifically…..but again, Occam’s Razor….I feel like the real answer is DC just didn’t care enough to think things that far through. Especially since the average Bludhaven citizen, like Bea, at least didn’t seem totally blown away when Ric revealed to her that amnesia aside, he was supposedly some rich billionaire’s adopted kid….which again suggests that as far as the writers were thinking, people in general are familiar with the idea that Bruce Wayne has more than one kid.

Then you’ve got Jason’s whole situation, and to be honest….I really only have the vaguest idea what’s going on there, because reading Lobdell books is against my religion, and I am a devout and deeply spiritual person, as you all probably can tell. I mean, I know that there’s something going on where like, Jason had himself legally resurrected in the public eye and is openly referring to himself as Bruce Wayne’s formerly-assumed dead foster kid……but like, is that the official official word, or would other writers if you asked them say they’d been operating under the assumption Bruce had adopted Jason too at some point in the Rebirth timeline, or….idek, man.

I…..honestly don’t have the faintest fucking clue what to make of the many back-and-forth retcons about Tim and his parents and his official place in the Batfam/relationship with Bruce, and am actually slightly terrified of even trying to make sense of that clusterfuck of a Gordian knot, so my official stance on Tim is to just like….back sloooooowly away from the anthropomorphic-migraine-masquerading-as-a-backstory, without like….agitating it and accidentally setting off another multiverse Crisis birthed wholly from just that one all-consuming black hole of a retcon.

I mean, there’s a reason I basically just shoehorn all the kids’ official pre-Flashpoint family statuses into anything I write in Rebirth continuity, and that’s not just stubbornness and my refusal to play the “now this kid is adopted…now he’s not…now he is again….except he’s not….oh he’s adopted again…..oh wait now he’s not again" game. 

Its like. Also for the sake of my sanity and stuff.

(And also hahahahaha fuck you DC times infinity, every time you use the words “blood son,” or “real family” in a comic, or have one of Bruce’s other kids refer to Bruce as “your father” when talking to Damian, as if that’s not an utterly bizarre and roundabout way for any sibling to refer to their mutual parent and thus I j’ete REFUSE to acknowledge it as valid….ahem, anyway, my point is, every time they do that in a comic, I double down and headcanon Bruce throwing a random as fuck gala for literally no other purpose than to remind all of Gotham that he has half a dozen kids and they’re all better than everyone else’s. Ugh. Kill it. Kill the “blood son” nonsense with fire and lightning and also lots of stabbing maybe).

Anyway, that’s my official stance on DC’s stance on Damian in the books.

Then as far as Cass goes….ugh, her origins were pretty much utterly butchered by the New 52, which IMO has also failed to give us Cass and Bruce bonding and dynamics sufficient to Sate Mine Ire™, sooooooo…..I mean, my perception of the current canon is that Cassandra’s official status is “secret mystery foster child that nobody really knows about,” but because I do not care for that and there’s the whole not sufficiently sated ire thing I mentioned, I officially reject this canon and willfully replace it with pre-Flashpoint Bruce and Cass love and adoption. DC’s welcome to kiss my critically acclaimed hiney if I’m doing it wrong.

Which brings us last, but certainly not least, as its only this way because I go sequentially and Duke is still Shiny and New comparative to the others and will be until the next inevitable fostering/adoption/clone hi-jinks bumps him up the sequential ladder (except I randomly switched Damian and Cass around this time because LOOK I DONT MAKE THE RULES, THERE ARE NO RULES i hvea Adhd hiccup sob leavem e aloooone soooooob)…..

Duke’s official status, much like the rest of the Batkids, can be summed up as Honestly, I Really Don’t Have A Fucking Clue And Am Just Winging This Whole Thing.

I mean, there’s less inconsistency with him, due mostly to the fact that so few writers other than Snyder use him (boo, hiss, and not just because I hate having to give Snyder credit for stuff - look, I love his Duke, but I loathe how he writes Dami, its a thing, I just…don’t get me started). But what inconsistencies there are….well….they’re a bit glaring.

Basically one major storyline showed Duke as being an official foster kid/ward of Bruce’s and living out of the Manor with Bruce and Damian and occasionally Tim when he’s not off road-tripping around the multiverse….and then Batman and the Signal had Duke in the care of his uncle, who was stated to be his legal guardian and Duke was constantly sneaking out in order to meet Bruce in the special Signal-cave he built specifically for Duke to operate out of so he didn’t have to like, drive all the way out to the Manor to change just so he could then drive back into the city and patrol. And then Batman and the Outsiders just said fuck all that, here’s Duke and Cass hopping hemispheres with the Outsiders every other issue, so apparently nobody’s making unscheduled visits anywhere back in Gotham to make sure these two are where they’re legally assumed to be, which again, for the record is…..*error, source not found*

LOLOL and the really fun thing about this little back and forth is I’m pretty sure allllll these conflicting takes are all the work of the same writer. Like. GET ON YOUR OWN PAGE, DUDE.

Also, again I have to assume the “Can’t Be Bothered To Give A Shit, Or Maybe They’re All Just Really Bad At Logic” curse has struck again, because….uhhhh…..

….at no point anywhere in Duke’s stories have I seen Bruce or literally anyone else express concern about the fact that Duke living with Bruce as his official foster, like he definitely and clearly was at some point at least…..means that literally every single one of his We Are Robin friends who knows that he was taken in by the Batfam (and there’s several of them who know this)….like, by the transcendent properties of You Can’t Honestly Think They’re That Dumb, that’s a good five or six civilians out there who probably took all of five seconds to play connect the dots and figure out the Wayne family, having officially taken Duke in on paper…..is pretty likely the Batfamily.

I mean, I like all of Duke’s friends and would definitely headcanon/write them as all being trustworthy and able to keep this knowledge to themselves for Duke’s sake, if nothing else, but I mean, its pretty unprecedented for Bruce to out himself and all of his kids/allies by extension, to like, that many civilian teenagers all in one swoop….

…sooooooo, you’d think, AGAIN, logically, maybe, perhaps, this is the kind of thing that should be brought up in a narrative somewhere as a plot point worth delving into, y’know, just for shits and giggles and maybe a little bit of that whatchamacallit - oh right, character development, but.

Cut to DC: Naaaaaaah.

 *throws up hands and does the I Can’t Even Shuffle all the way home*

In conclusion:

DC is a mess. The official/public status of each and every Batkid is a mess. Except for Damian, the blood son, but we have that pencilled in on the schedule to be killed with fire and also stabbing, so he can get filed under ‘just a fucking mess’ with the rest of his siblings. Hashtag Solidarity.

I mean, I say just write or headcanon their official status however you damn well please, and it’ll STILL be more effort than I believe DC has put into organizing and staying consistent with all of this, and thus STILL make more sense than what we currently have to work with.

*Shrugs* If they don’t care enough to provide a clear canon blueprint to follow when mapping the Bat Family Tree, I can’t be bothered to care if the one I make up myself happens to contradict one single mention of one kid’s official status as claimed by one issue of one book.

Especially if it was written by Lobdell.

Jason’s just a foster son my ass. grumble mumble bitter vengeful swears and a pox on all DC’s houses. WHY DO YOU PEOPLE HATE ADOPTION SO MUCH, INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW AND ALSO FUCK YOU.