#dunno where the fifth guy is from i actually even remember how i found him

[todayisyourturntolose]

a few postal dude-esque characters ive come across

[chidoroki]

Tokyo Revengers S3EP4

aka: comrade swap

Ah, so scoping out the traitors and punishing them is the special role Chifuyu was talking about with Mucho and fifth division.

Did the OP get some minor changes or am losing my mind? …Oh, nope! It definitely did! That shot of Tenjiku is new! Even that fade to black when Emma smiles.. oh no.

They show Koko and Inui joining different sides yet remove Koko, Mucho and Sanzu from that other group shot of Tenjiku for some reason even though they were shown there previously.

Damn, Emma really do be looking like her mom.

I was wondering if Izana went to a foster home from the letters last ep.. only reason I doubt it was because of that one bit in the ED where it looks like he’s in a cell of some sort. Unless he was just lying to young Emma about going to a foster home to make her feel better.. I dunno. It's probably a lie.

Shit, you had history with Izana too, Inui?

OH!! DUH, the damn white jacket he had from that one flashback last season! That was a Black Dragon uniform and I vaguely remember him asking Koko what happened to the gang once he was released from juvie.. now it’s all coming back to me.

Oohh boy, I kinda love Izana with that long hair style he’s got going on in that quick flashback a bit better though.

“I’m one of the founding members of Tenjiku.” And I honestly would’ve been so very surprised about that had the OP not spoiled it so heavily.

“Now that I think about it, he was the only captain who wasn’t a victim of Tenjiku’s surprise attack.” Okay, well, I’m slow in realizing that.. completely true.

Mucho’s loyal, I’ll give him that much.

It ain’t far how pretty Koko looks even when all beat up.

Damn, so Koko joins Tenjiku to spare Inui and Takemichi’s lives? All because Izana wants to use his spectacular ability of making money?

“Us members of S-62 Generation are now 18. We’re not going to mess around with kiddie stuff like biker gangs.” A whole lot of them look way older than 18, just saying.

Nice speech from Takemichi for standing up for Koko but I gotta feeling it all that courage ain’t gonna help.

Oh? Inui remembered Shinichiro? He knew him?

Hey if Takemichi can survive a brawl with Taiju, then he can last a couple hits from Mucho.. hopefully.

Pfft nevermind, dude literally woke up in the trash.

Aw, Inui actually tried helping our boy though. No wonder Koko gives in. He really didn’t wanna see those two get beat up. At least him being forced to join is better than him willingly offering his help to Tenjiku.

Now, I dunno too much about later arcs, but I'm a little certain that Koko stays on opposite sides of Inui, so now I'm wondering if that was done by choice or if the poor guy is always stuck making hard decisions against his will.

Inui’s little chuckle is precious.

“Please become the 11th leader of Black Dragon! Hanagki, save Koko. Please, save us.” Oohh wow, Inui’s even bowing to him and shedding tears. This poor boy needs a hug!

Oh, the hideout used to be Shinichiro’s bike shop.. that pieces some things together.

“Sounds nice, doesn’t it? Friends to laugh at dumb stuff you’d done together, even as adults.. I admired that king of gang.” This is becoming so wholesome.

“I’ll be captain of Tokyo Manji Gang’s first division and the 11th leader of Black Dragon.” Both?? At once?

Man.. here I was, all excited to finally see more of Sanzu and the dude just stood by the whole ep. Another time I suppose.

[kjack89]

Ooh, prompt for "I never stood a chance, did I?"

ExR (ish), Grantaire x folks who are, unfortunately to him most of all, not Enjolras, modern AU. Not sure any of them ever stood a chance. 

To say that a hush fell over the assembled crowd in the back room of the Musain when Grantaire walked in holding the hand of an unknown guy was probably an exaggeration, but not by much. All eyes were seemingly on both of them as they made their way to a table, and only picked up again when both sat.

Courfeyrac, always one for the latest in gossip, quickly headed over to where Joly and Bossuet were sitting. “Who’s the new guy?” he asked, sitting down next to Joly. 

Bossuet shrugged. “Dunno,” he said unconcernedly. “Grantaire hasn’t deigned to introduce us yet. Probably afraid we’ll scare him away.” He sniffed, clearly insulted. “As if he isn’t capable of that on his own.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” Courfeyrac said, glancing over at Grantaire and his new beau with a look of mild curiosity. “So how long do you think this one will last?”

Joly just snorted, not even bothering to look up from his phone. “Five dates,” he said, a mix of grim and resigned. “It’s always five dates.”

“You never know,” Bossuet said bracingly, ever the optimist. “Maybe this one will be different.”

Joly gave him a look. “Five dates,” he repeated flatly.

“What’re we betting on?” Bahorel asked, leaning back in his chair and interjecting himself smoothly into the conversation.

“We’re not betting on anything—“ Joly started, but Bossuet cut him off.

“Over/under on how long Grantaire and his new lover will last,” he said, nodding in Grantaire’s direction. “Line is 5 dates.”

Bahorel gave Grantaire and his new man a quick once over. “I’ll take the under.”

Joly scowled. “We’re not betting.”

“I’ll take those odds,” Feuilly said, not even bothering to pretend he hadn’t been eavesdropping, offering his hand for Bahorel to shake.

“Same,” Bossuet said with a firm nod.

He looked pointedly at Joly, who rolled his eyes. “I’m sticking with five. It’s always five.”

“Fine,” Bossuet said, sticking his tongue out at him. “But when I win, I’m saying ‘I told you so’.”

Joly didn’t look worried. “And when I win,” he said, “I look forward to taking your money.” He took a sip of his beer before adding, “Easiest twenty bucks I ever made.”

----------

Exactly four Les Amis meetings later, Grantaire turned up dateless. “Don’t tell me you broke up with him,” Bossuet said, a little desperately.

Grantaire shrugged. “It just...didn’t work out.”

Joly met Bossuet’s eyes, something like satisfaction in his expression. “Oh no,” he said. “That’s too bad. We really liked him.”

He didn’t sound remotely convincing, but Grantaire didn’t seem to notice, just shrugging and watching Enjolras stand up at the front of the room. “I’m sure you’ll survive,” he said, a little vaguely.

Bossuet leaned over, surreptitiously sliding a twenty dollar bill to Joly. “I know, I know,” he muttered. “You told me so.”

Joly just shook his head, pocketing the money. “It’s always five dates,” he said with a sigh.

----------

The five date rule – as Joly called it, though Grantaire stubbornly insisted it was more of a five date guideline than anything – started because of Enjolras.

Grantaire had been casually seeing a perfectly lovely woman who had seemed, at least that far, willing to overlook his many glaring flaws, and brought her to a Les Amis meeting for their third date. And then their fourth. 

And it was on their fifth date that Enjolras, who had never quite grasped the concepts of ‘casual’ or ‘subtle’, had remarked, a little sourly, “I’ll take it she’s going to become a regular attendee, then?”

Needless to say, she never came back after that.

Joly postulated that the cycle went something like this: Grantaire met someone and managed to convince them to agree to a date. On said date, Grantaire was his most charming, and funny, and it was enough to secure a second date, and then a third, which was usually when he brought them to a Les Amis meeting. The third date, of course, by the unwritten rules of the universe, was also the date where sex happens. After having sex, Grantaire panicked because this person wasn’t the person he would actually like to be having sex with, and desperately initiated another date in hopes that he’ll convince himself to have feeling for this person instead, and thus there was a fourth date. The fifth date was one final attempt to convince himself that this could work, and they parted ways after that.

Grantaire, on the other hand, maintained that said cycle took far too much forethought, and he had never once been accused of thinking that far ahead. Instead, he told anyone who asked that he just got bored after five dates, and when he found someone who captured his interest, it would last far longer.

But it was, of all people, Combeferre who nailed it most succinctly.

“It’s because of Enjolras,” Combeferre told Bossuet late one evening when Grantaire and Joly had gone to get refills after discussing Grantaire’s latest disastrous dating attempt. 

“What do you mean?” Bossuet asked, curious, and not just because Combeferre normally considered himself above the whole nonsense of Enjolras, Grantaire, and the never ending dance they both pretended not to notice they were doing.

“It takes five dates for Enjolras to notice that Grantaire’s been dating someone,” Combeferre said simply. “And once Enjolras notices, Grantaire has no need to keep the charade going.”

Bossuet considered it for a moment. “Do you think he knows?”

Combeferre arched an eyebrow. “Enjolras, or Grantaire?” Bossuet shrugged and Combeferre sighed. “Grantaire might, though he would undoubtedly deny it.”

“And Enjolras?” Combeferre gave him a look and Bossuet chuckled lightly. “Fair enough.” He lifted his beer to take a sip before remembering it was empty and setting it back down again. “So who’s going to tell one or both of them?”

“Not it,” Combeferre said instantly, and Bossuet smirked.

“Looks like it’s gonna be Joly’s job.”

Combeferre shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “But you’re the one who has to tell Joly.”

Bossuet’s smile disappeared. “Goddamnit.”

----------

But then there was a woman who made it to six dates.

And then seven.

And even Joly had to admit that maybe he was wrong about the five date rule.

Combeferre wasn’t so quick to give up, just watching Grantaire with narrowed eyes as he held this woman’s hand. “What do you think of her?” he asked Enjolras in an undertone.

Enjolras blinked as he looked up from the journal article he had been reading. “Who?” he asked.

“Grantaire’s girlfriend,” Combeferre said, looking pointedly in Grantaire’s direction.

Enjolras’s expression froze. “Oh, uh, Fiona?” he said, a little too vague to be accidental.

“Floréal,” Combeferre corrected. “Though I’m pretty sure that’s a nickname.”

Enjolras wrinkled his nose. “Not a great nickname.”

Combeferre scowled. “And not exactly my point.”

“Then what was your point?” Enjolras asked, matching his tone.

“It’s about the fact that Grantaire seems like he might actually be getting serious about someone.”

“And?”

Combeferre arched an eyebrow. “And I can’t imagine you’re thrilled about that.”

For one long moment, Combeferre was certain that Enjolras was going to deny it, or feign ignorance, or shrug it off in one of a million ways he had in the past. But then he sighed and set his pen down. “He deserves to be happy,” he said quietly.

Combeferre just looked at him evenly. “So do you.”

Enjolras managed a smile and held up the journal article. “I have a protest to plan. You could say that I’ve never been happier.”

“Bullshit.”

“That’s unusually abrupt, especially for you.” Combeferre didn’t so much as twitch and Enjolras sighed. “Fine, but I’m not the one who likes to brag about the size of my vocabulary.” He paused, looking over at Grantaire, his expression darkening slightly. “But I am. Happy, I mean. I love my work, and Grantaire…”

He trailed off and Combeferre shook his head. “If you think Grantaire loves this woman—”

“I don’t,” Enjolras said quickly – a little too quickly, and he looked away, his cheeks tinged slightly pink. “But maybe he should.”

It was Combeferre’s turn to debate between honesty and denial., but in the end, he just shook his head, his expression unreadable. “If that’s really what you think,” he said coolly.

Enjolras shook his head as well and went back to reading through the journal article. Or pretending to, at the very least, though he couldn’t help but look up at Grantaire several times. 

And needless to say, neither he nor Combeferre were particularly surprised when, a half hour later, just when it looked like Grantaire and  Floréal were getting ready to leave, Enjolras glanced up at him. “Are you leaving?” he asked.

“That was the plan,” Grantaire said, cocking his head slightly as he looked at Enjolras. “Why, what’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing,” Enjolras said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. “I was just, um, I was hoping to borrow you. To critique my speech. If– if you don’t have anything better to do.”

“I don’t,” Grantaire said instantly, before realizing what he had said and coloring. “I mean…” 

“Go,” Floréal said with a small smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I think we can handle one night apart.” She kissed him on the cheek before grabbing her coat and heading out. Grantaire watched her leave for only a second before looking back at Enjolras, a small, slightly crooked smile spreading across his face as he did.

“So where do you want me?”

----------

Floréal looked resigned as she sat down next to Grantaire on the bench he had asked to meet her at in the park the following day. It had been where they first met, and she glanced a little ruefully at it before telling Grantaire, “I suppose it’s poetic, in a way. Ending things here, where they began.”

Grantaire winced. “Is it that obvious?”

“The ‘we should talk’ text did a lot of heavy-lifting for you,” Floréal said with a half-smile. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t see this coming before that.” She hesitated for a moment before asking, “I never stood a chance, did I?”

Grantaire sighed and looked away for a long moment before shaking his head and looking back at her. “If it makes you feel better, you came the closest.”

“But not close enough.”

Floréal didn’t sound upset when she said it, but Grantaire still looked pained. “I’m sorry,” he offered.

She shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said with a little laugh. “I think I knew all along.” She considered it for a moment. “Honestly, I think that was part of the appeal.”

Grantaire frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” She trailed off before shaking her head again. “There was always an end date on this, and that meant I didn’t have to worry about commitment. After all, you always belonged to someone else. I could tell, even if I didn’t want to believe it.”

“I resent the implication that I belong to anyone,” Grantaire said lightly.

But Floréal didn’t rise to the bait. “Fine, maybe not you, but your heart at least belongs to someone else.”

Grantaire’s expression tightened. “Well, there is that.”

Floréal laughed again and patted Grantaire’s knee. This was a lot of fun, Grantaire.” She paused. “Well, maybe not this conversation, but the rest of it.”

“I’m sorry.”

She gave him a look. “You said that already.”

Grantaire didn’t smile. “I wouldn’t choose this, you know,” he said, his voice low. “If I had a choice.”

Floréal shrugged. “You can’t choose who to fall in love with.” She gave him a pointed look. “But you can choose what to do about it.”

“What are you saying?” Grantaire asked.

“I’m saying maybe you should try to focus on the five dates with the person you actually want to be with, the five dates that would actually lead to more.”

Grantaire made a face. “It’s the one date that I’m worried about,” he told her honestly.

“And that is no longer my problem.” She stood, and Grantaire hurried to stand as well. “Best of luck, Grantaire – I mean it. I wish you nothing but the best.”

The smile he gave her was genuine, if a little rueful. “Same to you. I wish whomever you find will give you a lot more than five dates.”

“And I hope whomever I find will love me as much as you love Enjolras.”

Grantaire huffed a laugh and ducked his head. “So do I,” he said quietly. He gave her a little wave before he started in the opposite direction, his feet automatically taking him in the direction of the Musain and the inevitable five dates with the next placeholder until he was finally ready to see if he actually stood a chance of his own.

[auroracalisto]

i don’t wanna be alone

summary: college is filled with events that happen one right after the other.  that being said, montana practically begs the reader to go to a party, and there, our dear reader finds herself in quite a predicament.  

pairing: xavier x reader, platonic! montana x reader, platonic! montana x xavier

word count: 3.6k words

warnings: alcohol, drinking, slight ooc with the characters, reader is touched up by some guy while she’s drunk, please DO NOT read if you are uncomfortable with mentions of sexual assault and things like that.  it is in this.

a/n: modern! college! au with select characters from ahs (mostly 1984 tbh).  not me going off of a plot idea i created while driving home from work,,,, wouldn’t be the first time.  characters include: xavier, chet, montana, mentions ray and brooke, also nodes to kyle spencer’s frat, kappa lambda gamma.  also, would this be considered an innocent! reader?  maybe just a female reader that really hasn’t done much of partying and drinking.

You sighed for what seemed to be the fifth time, your head pressing up against the library book you were searching for. You couldn’t find what you needed for your essay, and this had been the third book you had pulled off the shelf. You rubbed your eyes, flinching as someone nudges your arm. You furrowed your brows and quickly looked over, spotting Montana, your roommate who had yet to leave your side, and her pretty smile. 

“Once you're done,” she said, “Xav and Chet wanna meet up by the cafe.”

You groaned softly and let your head fall back on your book. “What time is it?” you asked. 

“Almost six. If we leave now, there might still be something good left.”

You knew she was right. As Montana started to get her things ready, you stood up and stuffed what you brought with you back into your backpack. You then grabbed a couple other books, taking them up to the counter and checking them out. 

“Is that even what you needed?” Montana asked, popping her bubblegum as she came up beside you. 

You just shrugged. You didn’t even know what you needed, but at this point, anything would have been better than nothing. When the librarian handed you back your student card, you stuffed it into your pocket and grabbed your books. Montana took a hold of your elbow and led you out of the library. The two of you trekked over to the building that held your cafeteria, noting that there weren’t actually a lot of people inside at the moment. It was odd. Six to seven were usually the busiest hours, but you weren’t about to complain. 

Montana got in front of you, swiping her card to get her meal for the evening. She got your card out of your backpocket, after realizing it might be hard for you with all the books you had in your hands. 

She handed the cook your card, and just as she was swiping it, a strong hand came down on your shoulder. You flinched, quickly looking back with wide eyes, only to see a grinning Xavier. 

“If I would have dropped my books—”

“—you didn’t,” he said, sticking out his tongue in a teasing manner.  He grinned at you, handing the cook his own card as Chet got his card ready.  Montana stuffed yours back into your pocket.  

“Wanna sit towards the windows?” Montana asked, grabbing a hold of your elbow again.  You nodded, following close behind her.  

Xavier came up right beside you, taking a couple of the books from you and sitting them down on the window seal.  “What are these for?  The fu—Nicomachean Ethics?  What the hell is that?”

“It’s for my philosophy class,” you huffed softly, sitting your book bag down on your chair.  “I don’t even know if I can use that.”  Your eyes slightly widened as you looked over at Chet.  “You’re in my philosophy!  What are you doing for your essay?”

Chet blinked slowly at you for a moment before he spoke.  “I haven’t started.”

You let your head fall back, closing your eyes.  

Xavier poked your arm.  “Come on.  Let’s get food and then you can worry about that.”

You did as you were told, trudging up to the counters.  You got your favorites, and then you also went to the drink counter and got your favorite drink.  Before long, you were the first one to return to the table.  You sat your things down and then you put your bookbag on the floor, replacing the bag in the chair with your body.  You waited until your friends came back before you did anything else.  

Xavier sat beside you, closest to the window, while Montana sat directly across from him and Chet sat directly across from you.  

“Did you hear?” Montana excitedly began, sitting on the edge of her seat as her fork sunk into her salad.  “Kappa’s having their Homecoming party this Saturday.  It’s supposed to be the biggest one of the semester,” she spoke, looking over at you.  She sent you a smile.  “I would love it if you went with me, [Your name].”

“Uhhh, I dunno,” you shrugged, beginning to eat from your own plate.  “I don’t really do parties.”

“We’re all going,” Chet said, leaning back in his seat as he picked up a carrot off of Montana’s plate.  “Hell, even Ray and Brooke are going.  You’d be the only one out of us not going.  You’d really wanna be the odd one out?”

You rolled your eyes.  “Do you really want me to go?” you looked over at Montana, exasperated.  

It was almost as if you were the odd one out.  Your little group of friends, save for you, all came to college, knowing each other one way or another.  You just so happened to be Montana’s random roommate, and she slowly integrated you into their lives.  They each thought you were awesome, but it still didn’t make you feel any less out of touch with them, at times.  

Xavier leant over, his face close to yours.  You turned to face him, flinching slightly at how close he was.  

“What?” you asked, taking a piece of your food and shoving it at his mouth.  

He ate whatever it was that you had given him, sitting back in his chair.  “You should come.  It’ll be fun.  At least for a little bit,” he grinned.  “I heard they’re gonna have Kappa juice,” he said, looking over at Montana, who’s eyes brightened at the mention.  

“What’s that?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.  

“It’s like.  A bunch of alcohol.  No, a shit ton of alcohol all mixed together.  God, it’s supposed to get you hammered with one fucking cup,” Montana grinned.  

“And you wanna do that?” you furrowed your eyebrows.  

“Come on, [Your name],” she practically begged, launching herself over the table to take a hold of your hands.  “We’ll have Xav get you something like Smirnoff, so you can still drink but you won’t have to have Kappa juice.  How about that?”

You blinked slowly at Montana before you groaned.  “Fine.”  You looked over at Xavier, unable to stop your cheeks from burning.  “Could you…?”

He smiled and nodded.  

“I’ll pay you back,” you said, a relieved smile quickly forming on your lips.  “But,” you looked over at Montana, narrowing your eyes.  “I have to get this essay finished before Saturday.  So nothing else crazy.  Okay?”

Montana grinned and quickly nodded.  “Got it.”

You finished up your food before everyone else and you grabbed your book bag, looking at Montana.  “I’m gonna head back to the dorms.  I’ll try to finish this essay,” you sighed.  Picking up your plate and your cup, you looked at Chet.  “Text me when you start yours?”

When he nodded, you took your leave, unaware of the silent victory party Montana was celebrating.  

“This will be her first party,” she said, wiggling a finger in Xavier’s direction.  “Don’t do anything stupid.  And don’t let me see you hooking up with anyone while she’s there.  I’ll personally end you.”

Xavier grinned.  “Whatever.”

Montana rolled her eyes.  “I’m serious, Xav.  She really likes you, even though she won’t admit it.  It’s probably the only reason she agreed to come,” she laughed, leaning back in her seat.  

“Whatever,” he repeated, his smile only growing.  

[]

Saturday came sooner than you had anticipated.  Luckily, however, you had finished your essay just the day before, so you spent most of Saturday afternoon getting ready for this damn party.  

Montana came out of the bathroom, her hair done up nice and her makeup as perfect as always.  She looked over at you and grinned.  “How do I look?”

You looked over at her and grinned.  “Great.”

Montana laughed and went to grab her phone.  “They have a frat house.”

“I know.”

“I meant, that’s where the party’s gonna be.  You wanna walk or have Xav drive us?”

“I already owe him for the drinks.  I’ll just walk.”

Montana pouted at you but she nodded.  “Alright.  I’ll wear comfy shoes then,” she sighed, grabbing her purse.  “Are you ready?” she asked you.  

You looked at yourself in the mirror and you gave a hesitant nod.  “Yeah, I’m ready.  Do I look okay?” you turned to face her.  

You wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off her face.  “Xavier would think you’re cute—”

“—what!  Could you stop saying shit like that!”

“It’s true, [Your name]!” she dramatically cried, grabbing onto your arms.  “You’re wearing his favorite color.  I should know.”

You sighed, remembering that the two of them did have a thing back in the day.  You shook your head and grabbed onto your friend’s hand.  “Can we go now?”

Montana smiled and led you out of your dorm.  

[]

Just moments after you left the dorm, you found yourself in front of the frat house.  It was already bustling with drunk students.  People were making out, dancing to the loud music, playing beer pong, and quite literally drinking so much alcohol that it probably wasn’t good for their organs.  

You stood close to Montana as she got a cup of whatever the hell Kappa juice was and you looked around.  You spotted Xavier and Chet, who weaved their way through the crowd.  Xavier smiled when he saw you, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.  

Xavier extended the case of Smirnoff he bought for you, and you thanked him by giving him a quick hug.  It felt like your heart had stopped at this point, and your cheeks burned red.  But that quickly diminished when Xavier hugged you back with a laugh.  

“You must be nervous!” he practically shouted over the loud music.  

You smiled and just nodded, eyeing the Smirnoff.  

Chet took one of them and opened it up for you, which you gladly took.  You sat the rest of the case down by the couch, where you knew you would be staying for the rest of the night.  

Montana came back over to you, grinning as she took a bite of fruit.  “[Your name], I know I begged you to come out here, but I’m gonna do it again.  Please, pleeease,” she came in front of you, holding out her cup.  “Try this.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, grimacing at the smell of alcohol.  “Uh, no thanks.”

“[Your name],” she pouted, staring you down.  “You should like.  Chug it or some shit.”  

You purse your lips, knowing that Montana wasn’t going to stop.  You took the red solo cup and braced yourself for the sting.  

“You don’t have to drink it,” Xavier said, frowning over at Montana.  

“Shhh,” Montana swatted his arm.  You had only been there for a couple of minutes, but Montana must have already drank quite a few.  

You ignored Xavier and downed the drink in a couple gulps, fighting back your watery eyes.  You coughed after you finished the drink, shoving the cup back in Montana’s hand.  

“Shit,” you breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut.  Whatever was in that drink was potent, all in itself.  You sat down on the couch, watching as Xavier walked off to get himself a drink.  

Montana grinned at you.  “Want another one?”  

She had already grabbed two cups.  Before you knew it, you were downing a second.  And then a third.  And then a fourth.  Two of the Smirnoff bottles were empty, thanks to you.  The rest had been taken by some other party-goers.  

Montana took your hands, forcing you to your feet.  The room began to spin and you held onto your roommate’s hands, stumbling slightly into her.  Montana just laughed at you, leading you to God knows where.  

Just a moment after she had forced you to walk into the kitchen, she left you standing there.  Some guy had offered her another drink, and she took it.  She was just as drunk as everyone around you.  

You stood in the kitchen, your head resting against the cabinet.  You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shake the fuzzy feeling that ran all through your body. 

“[Your name]?”

You looked up, trying to figure out who said your name.  You spotted Xavier there and you grinned.  

“Xav…”  

“Shit,” he frowned at you.  “How much did you drink, sweetheart?” he asked, coming over to press a hand to your forehead.  You were burning up.  

“Hmmm,” you shrugged, not knowing the answer.  “Why aren’t you drinking?” you grinned, taking a step forward.  But that single step almost sent you tumbling to the floor—you were lucky that Xavier caught you.  

“I’m tonight’s designated driver,” he rolled his eyes.  “Come on.  You look like shit, [Your name].”

“Shhh,” you swatted at his arm.  “Don’t say that…”

He rolled his eyes, again, causing you to pout up at him.  

“God, you’re gonna be so hungover,” he breathed out, taking a hold of your hands.  He led you out to his van, getting you into the passenger seat.  “I’m gonna get everyone else.  We need to get you back to the dorm.”

“Wait, wait,” you quickly said, taking his hands.  “What time is it?” you grinned.  “It was just nine—”

“It’s almost three in the morning, [Your name],” he said, a dumbfounded expression crossing his features.  

You blinked at him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.  You let him go, sitting back in the van’s seat.  

It felt like Xavier had been gone for hours, but in reality, it had only been a couple of minutes.  Leaving you alone probably wasn’t a good idea.  

You got out of the van, slamming the door shut behind you.  You leaned against it and breathed in the cool night air, closing your eyes.  

You didn’t notice the frat boy that came up beside you.  

He cleared his throat and you looked up at him.  He gave you a kind smile.  

“Hey,” he softly said, standing in front of you.  

“Hi…”

Something about him made you uncomfortable, but you couldn’t quite place it. 

The man came closer and he took a hold of your hand.  “You look like you’re completely fucked,” he let out a laugh.  “Maybe we should make that in more ways than one.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, and it still barely registered by the time he had slammed his lips against yours.  One of his hands quickly took ahold of your wrists and he held them above your head.  You weakly tugged, most of your basic abilities being dumbed down from the alcohol.  

“Wait,” you began, a look of panic washing over you.  “Wait, stop—”

He didn’t listen.  He continued on, his other hand grabbing the edge of your shirt.  

Tears began to form in your eyes and you began to say the only name that came to your clouded mind: “Xavier.”

He pulled back from your lips, rolling his eyes.  “My name is John.”

You realized that this might help you.  You repeated his name, again and again, to the point where John was getting pissed off.  He slammed your shoulders against the van, your head hitting off the glass window just behind you.  You gasped in pain, squeezing your eyes shut.  But then, the weight that was once on top of you was gone.  You didn’t dare open your eyes, afraid that the same person would be there, watching you.  

The sound of flesh hitting flesh met your eyes, but you couldn’t make much of anything else out of it.  

Someone came over to you and cupped your cheeks.  You quickly opened your eyes, your hands pressing against the chest of whoever was holding you.  

“Stop, stop,” you quickly said, your eyes wide until you recognized those baby blues.  “Oh.. Oh, Xavier,” you began, unable to stop your tears.  Xavier enveloped you into a tight hug.  

“Come on…  Let’s leave, okay?”

You quickly nodded and he helped you back into the passenger side, quickly buckling your seatbelt. 

[]

The rest of that night went by in a blur to you.  The only thing you remembered was waking up with Montana in the corner of the room talking to whoever the hell was in your dorm.  You quickly pulled the covers off of you, trying to get out of the bed as quickly as possibly.  Once your legs were untangled from the blankets, you took off to your bathroom, and practically fell right beside the porcelain bowl.  Everything that you had eaten the night before and everything you had drank came up that morning.  

“Gross,” Montana groaned from where she sat, looking over at Xavier and Chet.  “She really got that drunk?”

“Some of us can hold our liquor, Tana,” Chet nudged her with his sock-clad foot.  He sat at Montana’s desk, while Montana and Xavier sat on her twin-sized bed.  

Montana rolled her eyes.  “Next time, stop her,” she said, looking at Xavier.  “You were the DD, right?  Why didn’t you pay attention to her?”

Xavier looked at Montana in disbelief.  “You’re kidding, right?  I had to babysit how many last night?”

Montana blushed and she mumbled about something, grabbing her phone.  

When Xavier heard you flush the toilet, he got down from Montana’s bed and grabbed one of your towels.  He walked into the hallway that was connected to your bathroom and he hesitantly crouched down beside you.  

“Hey,” he softly spoke.  

Your head pounded, but Xavier didn’t hurt it as much as you thought he would have.  

You looked up at the man, tears rolling down your cheeks.  He reached forward with the towel and gently wiped them away.  

“How you feelin’, sweetheart?” he asked.  

“Like shit.”

“Fair,” he chuckled softly.  

“How much did I drink..?”

“Hell if I know,” he admitted.  Xavier dabbed the towel against your forehead, and around your mouth.  “Brush your teeth and then sit it on the counter.  You’re probably gonna get sick again, but after today, we’ll throw your toothbrush away.”

He went to stand, but you quickly grabbed his wrist, making him stay where he was.  

“Thank you, Xav.”

He looked at you in confusion.  

“For last night.” 

Xavier just smiled at you.  “Yeah…  No problem, [Your name].”

He went to stand again, but you stopped him once more.  

“I know I probably look so gross,” you winced at the thought of how you might look to him.  “And you probably don’t wanna be around someone that smells like a bar.  But please.  Just.  Stay.”

He watched you with soft eyes but nodded.  He sat back down on the tile floor, staying with you for as long as he could that afternoon.  

[]

You were mad at Montana, to say the least, but you knew you couldn’t hold it against her.  She was drunk when she pressured you into drinking, and you fell for it.  It was as much your fault as it was hers.  

That next day, the Sunday before your philosophy essay was due, Montana had left to go out to eat with Chet.  You had your dorm to yourself.  And you were glad.  

But you kept thinking back to Xavier.  

He literally saved you—you remembered that much.  And then, yesterday morning, he stayed with you, well into the later hours of the day.  You couldn’t believe him, for a second, but at the same time, it only made your crush for him grow.  

You laid back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling.  You didn’t know if you should tell him at this point.  However, one thing was certain, there was a part of Xavier that had to care for you.  Sure, you were pretty good friends, but pretty good friends stop at some point with how much they help you.  At least, you were hoping.  

You sighed and rolled over in your bed, picking up your phone.  You had a couple of text messages from Xavier, and right as you clicked on one, there was a knock at your door.  

You groaned and got up from your bed.  Not even checking the peephole before you opened the door, you unlocked it and swung it open.  

Xavier stood there, a sheepish grin on his face.  

“You weren’t answering so I thought you were busy.  Uh,” he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his throat.  “[Your name], I’ve been thinking.  And maybe it’s because of what happened the other night.  Seeing that guy touch you up made me so mad.  I don’t—I don’t ever wanna see another guy touching you like that, [Your name].”

Your eyes widened a bit as you stared him down.  “What?”

“[Your name], what I’m trying to say was, I’m sorry it took for a party and someone assaulting you for realizing that I should have asked you out sooner.”

Your cheeks burned once more, just like they did many times the past couple of days.  You looked up at him, biting the inside of your cheek.

“You, uh, do you have plans today?” he asked.  

You shook your head.  He smiled.  

“Let me take you out for lunch or something.  You, uh, probably wanna get out of your dorm, yeah?”

You thought for a moment before nodding.  “Yeah.”

Xavier smiled.  “Just, uh… just tell me I’m not crazy for thinking you like me back?”

“You’re not crazy, Xav.”

He smiled even more.  

“I’m sorry you had to see me drunk before you realized you liked me,” you couldn’t help but laugh.  

He blushed, shaking his head.  “Yeah.  That was dumb of me.  But, uh, now you know?”

You rolled your eyes.  “Don’t even start.  You sound like my philosophy professor.”

“What the hell—”

You just grinned, reaching into your closet to grab a coat.  “Let’s go, then.”

Xavier wasn’t lying when he said that—he did hate that it took such a build up for him to confess to you.  But at least he knew that you really did like him.  And the fact that you agreed to go out to eat with him made him feel even better about the situation, even if you still had a dull headache and his knuckles were all scratched up.  

[lo-55]

Playing With Fire

While playing a perfectly innocent video game you get thrown into a dangerous world on the brink of incineration! At least you’re surrounded by a bunch of hot people. If nothing else you can shower them with copious, well earned affection. 

You come awake with a start. 

Everything is just a little off kilter. Like your eyes aren’t focused or you're wearing someone else's glasses. It takes you a few long minutes to realize that you’re staring down at a piece of paper. 

It’s listed one through eight, with a check box next to each number. 

At the top you see ‘Company Preference List’, and beneath that is your name scrawled in your own handwriting. But, when did you write it? And what was the list? You look up to find yourself in a library, surrounded by a bunch of other people all dressed in orange uniforms. You look down and find yourself in the same one. You recognize it as the Fire Force boiler suits. 

You touch your cheek slowly. Then poke the corner of your eyes. You’re not wearing your VR visor. And you’re not holding handles either. Are you hallucinating? You were playing the game, in the middle of some side quest. Did the game reset? This looked like a scene from the start of the game. It followed the beginning of the series, but through the eyes of a random side character researching Haijima on their own. There was some kind of revenge plot and a lot of stuff about their big sister, but you hadn’t gotten to the full reveal of the tragic back story yet. They interacted with the main characters plenty, but mostly they spent their time in their own squad, the fourth. 

You were halfway through the game, and now you were back at the start?

You look around for something to tell you what’s going on. You try to poke the menu button, but you’re not holding controllers. So all you really end up doing is poking the air between your hands with your thumbs. You’re starting to panic, when something shiny catches your attention. 

When did you get that ring? 

Plain silver on your forefinger. You poke it and gasp when the world shifts minutely. 

A flicker of fire, a figure dark against the light. It warps in and out of your vision in a split second. 

Right. Tragic back story. 

The ring was from their (your?) older sister. Now disappeared a-la-infernal fire. You were like the reverse Shinra. 

Wait. 

Shinra. 

Your head snapped around quickly from one person to the other. Most of them were boring background characters. No, no, no. Boring. Lame. Basically grey blobs. 

Were you going crazy and you couldn’t even enjoy it?! 

“Uh, hey? Are you okay?” 

Your head snaps sideways to find bright red eyes peering at you in concern. 

Red eyes. Black hair. 

You stare hard at him until the corners of his mouth start to twitch and curl upwards. 

“H-hey. Why are you staring at me?” 

Abruptly you reach over and cup his cheeks. His face is hot beneath your hands. You can touch him. You can feel the heat of his skin. He’s blushing something fierce. 

“You are… adorable,” you declare. 

He turns bright red and squeaks at you until you finally let him go. 

“What?!” 

“Did I stutter?” you prop your chin in your hand and look him over. Yep. Definitely cute. You just wanna squeeze him. But, you should probably do other things first. Like figure out what exactly is going on. 

Not that you can come outta the gate with ‘hey I was playing a video game and now I’m stuck in it, also I thought you weren’t real? What gives yo?’ 

Even you aren’t that impulsive. 

Actually, in real live you’re not very impulsive at all. That was what made games so fun, especially open world ones where you could do basically whatever you wanted. IRL you were more withdrawn than anything, even when you wanted to be social. 

Now… You could be whoever you wanted, right? 

Did you even have to follow the plot? Could you put a preference for another company and go there? Or would you still end up in the forth? And what about your abilities? In the game you’d had a choice at the beginning between a second gen ability and two third gen powers. You’d ended up picking at random, since they all seemed cool and you hadn’t been very far into the anime yet at the time. 

How would you even use those powers here, assuming that you could? 

“Sorry, I was spacing out,” you finally said, “What were you saying?” 

“Oh uh,” Shinra looked away, his grin still pulling at his face. “I was just asking if you were okay. You were looking at the form for so long, but whenever you talked about joining a company before you always said you would go to the fourth. Not that we talk a lot, so I wouldn’t know if you wanted to go to the fifth or the sixth or the seventh or-” 

“Babe, you’re rambling,” you cut in, starting to smile yourself. Even though you’re beyond confused something about Shinra puts you at ease. Everything about him seems so… warm. And yeah, the smile could be off putting. If it wasn’t so damn adorable. 

“O-oh!” aaaand he was blushing again. 

You look down at the paper, your brows furrowing. What are you even supposed to say to this? 

“I dunno,” you said at last, “I guess I was reconsidering. There’s a lot of companies, and a lot of options out there. I might end up going a totally different path if it’s not too late… What about you?” 

“Me? Well I didn’t really have a particular preference, but I heard that they’re trying to send more people to the eighth this year. Since its such a new company, and so small.” 

“Mmmm. That’s true. Maybe I’ll go there,” you muse. It would put you smack in the middle of all the action, and you could see the sweet Iris, and the too-hot-to-be-fair Maki. You could stay with adorable Shinra and the well meaning dumbass that was Arthur. Not to mention the two guys in charge. If you could get Obi to bench press you- 

Nope! Bad! Focus on the task at hand. No thirsting over captains right now! 

“I was thinking the same thing,” Shinra admitted, looking down at his own paper. 

“Yeah? I guess such a small company would make it easy for you to stand out and come a hero, right?” 

Shinra looked startled. You offered him a sweet smile and turned back to your paper and picked up your pen. 

You marked your preferences. 

Eighth, seventh, fourth, second, fifth, sixth, third, first. 

“The eighth and the seventh?” Shinra asked, peaking over at your sheet. 

You shot him a grin. “They both sound like fun to me. Hey, Shinra?” 

“Yeah?” 

Your grin grows wider. “Let’s both do our best, and save lots of people okay?” 

Shinra’s smile is small, but true. 

“Okay.” 

You bump your fist to his to seal the deal. 

~ 

It had taken you a couple of tries to find your dorm room. 

Your body seemed like it knew what it was doing, even if your mind didn’t. You had to explain away your frazzled state to the woman in charge of your wing, a nun who’s name you couldn’t recall to save your life, as nerves. She had looked dubious, but hadn’t questioned you when she pointed you to your room. 

Probably thinks I’m hung over, you thought as you stepped inside. If I didn’t know better I’d think I was drunk enough to hallucinate. But it’s all way too real. Just what happened? One second I was playing the game, and then my phone went off, and then it was all dark. After that I was in the library. 

 It was making your head hurt thinking about it. 

You poked around the room. If you remembered right you’d had a roommate, but she’d already been assigned her company a week early. Her dad was some top brass in the military, so off to the second company she went, 

You made sure the door was locked before you started riffling through your things. 

Books, papers, clothes. Personal items. 

You had a collection of antique keys for some reason, and a blanket shaped like a tortilla that was warmer than most space heaters. There was an old lighter with a hawk engraved on it in one drawer. When you touched it you got the sudden smell of pipe tobacco and a man laughing far in the back of your mind before it was gone. Just like when you touched the ring earlier. 

Memories that weren’t yours. You had stepped into someone else's life. 

When you looked in the mirror you found the face that your had designed for your character staring back at you. There was a thin ring of white in your eyes, cutting through their color and marking you as a pyrokinetic. 

Shit. Each of those abilities had a different eye. Which one was the circle? There was a circle, a pointy cross, and teardrop because the designer was some edgelord. Which power does this mean I have? Wings? Magnet sand? Or the spear torch thingy? 

You wished this could have been more like Fate/Grand Order. Then you would just have to keep track of your teams abilities, strengths, and weaknesses. Not your own. 

Fuck. 

You spend a long time in your room, packing up all of your belongings. None of them really belong to you. They belong to your character, and they’re only familiar in the sense that you’ve thrown them over your shoulder when you were looking for something specific before. Only now if you throw them they won’t puff back to where they were before eventually. You’ll actually have to put this stuff away. 

Damn it, you’ve never liked packing. 

Still, you carefully rolled your new found clothes into baggage burritos. They were pretty plain, all in all. Oh well. You could make adjustments later if you really wanted to. Was it a game mechanic you haven't unlocked? Full customization? You could pick gender and hair, and the eyes depended on your pyrokinesis. Maybe at some point you got to change clothes too. 

You’d figure it out. 

You hoped. 

Your head was still reeling the with the idea of what was going on, but for now, with nothing else you really could do, you decided to go with it. 

Once you had everything all packed up you left your room to do some exploring. You tried to keep track of where you were going in the big fire station/training academy, but before long you were hopelessly lost. 

You stumbled upon a training room, where a familiar boy with a dorky pony tail was slashing a glowing blue sword through a training dummy. The poor dummy fell to the floor in pieces. 

You watched him for a few minutes before he noticed you. 

“Oh,” he said, “It’s you.” 

Which was… pretty lame, if you’re being honest. 

What, did you one pop his delusional bubble? 

“Yep,” you popped your ‘p’, “It’s a-me.” Mario. “What did that guy ever do to you? Try to challenge the great Knight King Arthur on a troll bridge?” you meant it to be a joke, but Arthur actually lit up. 

“Hardly! This was merely training. A Knight King must always be ready to defend his people!” 

“Of course,” you nodded along, playing with him. “And soon you’ll be embarking on a great quest to your new company, right? Do you know which one?” 

“I didn’t bother with those silly preference sheets. Let whichever company requires a knight most vie for my presence.” 

You were honestly impressed Arthur even knew the word ‘vie’. Wasn’t he kind of a loon? 

“Mhmm, mhmm, I see,” you nodded seriously. “Then in case, I might see you in my own company.” 

You wanted to ask him to spar, if only to see Excalibur in action more, but you still weren’t sure what your power was or how to use it. So you ended up bowing out. 

It took you another hour to find your way  back to your room. 

Whoops. 

You don’t really sleep. You lay down and try to wake up, and hope that come morning you’ll be back in your living room with a vr stapped to your head and this whole thing will have been a (not so terrible) dream. 

Keep Dreaming. 

~    ~

[triplethreatsonic]

Triple Threat Drabble: The Stranger

Here it is, the drabble I said I’d share with you guys! I’ve done a sort of hybrid thing with this where there are one or two images integrated into the text that are basically like comic panels. (think Diary of a Wimpy Kid but hopefully more classy.) So make sure you pay attention to them as you read! 

Also, this is a work in progress. So please don’t judge it too harshly :) 

Hope you guys enjoy this! 

___

Sonic was not a slow eater. He hadn't been one as a child, and at age seventeen he certainly wasn't one now. The hedgehog rarely spent more than a few minutes to inhale his food during lunch period. Today was no different— after making quick work of the cafeteria's lasagna, Sonic had pushed his plate aside and was now settled with his left leg comfortably draped on top of his right, one hand fiddling with his shoelace. 

Across the table from him sat his friend, Knuckles the Echidna. Knuckles, who was one of the slowest eaters Sonic had ever seen, still had half his meal on his tray and was gradually picking away at a small bunch of grapes. "Probably." His eyes stayed on his hands as he smiled. "I don't think it'll be too bad, though; I'm looking forward to the history paper."

Sonic smirked. "I bet you are. I wonder what you'll write about this time. Maybe"—he cocked an eyebrow—"the ancient echidnas?"

"How'd you guess?" Knuckles smile widened as he dropped the now-empty grape stem onto his tray. Then he sighed, stretching his shoulders back. "I doubt the library has any new books on the topic, though. Seriously, they need an upgrade."

“Man, you're telling me. The other day, I—!" Sonic's thought was suddenly cut short.  If you had asked him what he'd just been talking about, he probably couldn't have told you. 

"No way..."

Something, or rather someone, had caught his attention— someone on the opposite side of the cafeteria, who had just sat down at a faraway table perpendicular to Sonic's position. 

It was a male hedgehog— that much was obvious. Looking at him, Sonic could make out his dark jeans, white t-shirt, and thin red-and-black striped flannel with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. The stranger sat, seemingly in silence, listening to a white female bat sitting across from him. 

None of this was what made Sonic stare, however; it was his quills.

Their coloring wasn't necessarily unnatural for a hedgehog, but it was certainly unusual. They were black, the top of each quill traced by a long red stripe. Sonic had never seen anything like them. 

Except that he had-- several times. He'd seen them in his dream. 

"Hey, Sonic! You ok?"

Knuckles words yanked Sonic out of his trance and back into the buzzing world of the lunch room. "Wha—? Oh, sorry man. Heh, guess I kinda zoned out for a second."

"What were you staring at?" Knuckles turned in his seat to scan the room behind him. 

"Nothing!" The word flew out of Sonic's mouth much quicker than he would have liked. He quickly brushed it off with a shrug. "I just remembered something I gotta do before lunch is over. I'd better run—see you later, alright?"

Knuckles looked like he didn't quite believe him. "What do you gotta do?"

Sonic’s face smiled as his brain racked for an answer. "Uh, homework. Never ends, am I right?"

Now it was Knuckles turn to smirk. "Heh, right." He picked up his mini milk carton and took a swig. "Well, good luck. I'll see you in fifth."

"Later, Knux!" Sonic grinned and picked up his tray from the table, keeping his movements casual as he made his way to the garbage cans. Behind his calm exterior, however, Sonic's mind was racing. It was a coincidence. It was a weird coincidence. But that's all it could be, right? Just a really weird, off-putting coincidence that meant nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. 

So why was he so antsy all of a sudden? 

Frankly, Sonic didn't even know why he had left Knuckles in such a hurry with that dumb fib about homework. What was he hoping to do? Was he planning to talk to the Weird-Coincidence Guy? 

Well… it wasn't the worst idea. 

Sonic's eyes flicked upwards from his tray; the black-and-red hedgehog was easy to pick out now that he knew he was there. Sonic's hands moved automatically, scraping his plates as he kept his eyes fixed on the stranger. The white bat across from him finished her sentence, waved, and then left, walking out through the cafeteria's main double doors. The black hedgehog watched her leave, a soda can held tightly in his hands. He barely moved at all.  

Sonic dropped his plate unceremoniously into the designated bin. Now that the idea had entered his mind, he couldn’t shake it: he had to talk to him. As nonchalantly as he could, Sonic began weaving around chairs, backpacks and tables, gradually making his way to the strange hedgehog. 

He was practically on top of him now. Sonic stopped walking, the black hedgehog a mere four feet ahead of him. He was facing away, hands still holding that soda can. Without so much as a second thought, Sonic smiled and said the first, most natural thing that came to his mind: “Hey!” 

What happened next was the last thing Sonic had expected. The black hedgehog turned at his voice, saw him, and froze. His face paled and his eyes went wide. Something like an electric shock seemed to go through him, and the can in his hands crunched.  

Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiing! The five-minute bell shouted rudely across the cafeteria, startling them both, and they were drowned in a wave of standing students. The black hedgehog was instantly blocked from view as three hundred teenagers, Human and Animal, began gathering their things and preparing to leave for classes. 

“H-hey, wait a sec!” Sonic tried to see past the masses of knees and elbows, but quickly found that to be useless. He wasn’t one to give up easily, however; in seconds, Sonic had jumped onto the nearest table and was craning his neck to see over the sea of heads. Where could that guy have gone so quickly? Suddenly—there! Sonic barely caught sight of striped flannel as its wearer ducked around the corner of an adjacent hallway.

"Hey, dude, wait up!" Sonic was down in a flash. After shoving his way through the crowd he sprinted into the hall just as his target ran left down another. He called after him. "Yo, black hedgehog!" It became a game of cat and mouse as they chased each other down seemingly countless hallways and past endless classrooms. Sonic was fast on the track—the fastest in the state, in fact— but somehow this guy kept eluding him with all his constant turns. 

Sonic finally whipped right around the ten-billionth corner only to come to an abrupt halt— the hallway ended just twenty feet in front of him. Sonic looked over his shoulder, then back at the dead end. He was positive this was the direction the hedgehog had dodged... so where did he go? 

"Hello? Uh, you down here, man?" Sonic slowly walked forward as his question echoed in the empty hall. "I just wanna talk for a second."

Silence. 

Then out of nowhere a blur of movement slammed into Sonic's chest, smashing him against a line of lockers. Sonic's breath was knocked out of him, and it took him a second to realize what had happened: standing there, with his forearm crushing Sonic’s ribs, was the black hedgehog. His eyes were mere inches away from his own. They were a bight crimson— to Sonic's astonishment, the color he expected them to be— with a ferocious, wild expression in them. There was also the depth of something that Sonic couldn’t quite name. 

"Why are you following me?” he demanded. 

Sonic’s hands flew up like a man held at gunpoint. "Woah, dude! Chill! I'm … I'm sorry!” It was still difficult to breathe. "I'm just… I just wanna… wanna talk!"

They stood there locked in place for a moment, both hedgehogs panting. A minute passed, and gradually something seemed to shift in the black hedgehog's eyes. He glanced downward at the arm that pinned Sonic, then back up at the hedgehog's face. Then he backed a few paces, his hands lowering to his sides. 

Sonic pushed himself off the lockers and rubbed his chest. "Wow, you hit hard! You play football or something?" He gave the guy a smile. "Sorry. I probably really weirded you out back there—I said hi, but then the bell rang and you ran off and—"

"And you chased me." The hedgehog's voice was deeper than Sonic's when he spoke, with a sharp edge to it. The guy looked close to graduating— frankly, with his stern face, he barely looked like he belonged in high school at all. His arms moved to cross in front of his chest. "What do you want?" 

"Uh..." Sonics brain suddenly froze. In that moment he realized that beyond his first hello, he hadn't actually thought of what he wanted to say to this guy. "I… I'm not sure. I just wanted to say hi, I guess." 

"Why?"

"Well, um... aw, shoot, this sounds really stupid now." Sonic's smile turned sheepish. "I wanted to talk 'cause… you look kinda familiar?" 

Other than a slight eyebrow raise, the black hedgehog didn’t move. His voice dripped with contempt. "Where on earth would I have met you before?" 

"Heh, funny you should ask." Sonic shoved his thumbs in his pockets. "Uh, how long've you been at the school?"

"Three weeks." 

Sonic did a double take. “Wait— really? Like, it's your first semester? But… you look like a senior." 

"And?" 

"Oh, I dunno... I guess thats just kinda rare, you know? New seniors? I'm a junior, myself." Sonic smiled, but the black hedgehog didn't flinch. He cleared his throat. "Well, anyway… You really do look super familiar to me. It's kinda freaky, actually."

The dark hedgehog's eyes narrowed. "And why would you say that?"

Sonic wasn't sure what reaction he'd been waiting for— maybe a good laugh, if anything— but it certainly wasn't what the black hedgehog was doing now. His shoulders hitched, fingers digging into his forearms. Even more surprising was his face; it had that same haunted look Sonic had glimpsed before— back in the cafeteria, right when the stranger had first seen him. 

And then all at once it was gone, replaced by the earlier scowl. "That's ridiculous.” 

Sonic’s hand dropped down from where it had been resting behind his head. “Um… yeah. Yeah, it is.”

They stood there in a heavy silence. The black hedgehog drummed his fingers against his arm. “Is that all?”  

Sonic stared back at him. “… Yes.” 

The other hedgehog looked at Sonic a moment longer, annoyed expression unchanging. Then with a ‘hmph’, he turned away abruptly, walking back towards the hallway through which they had come. 

Sonic watched him leave. He felt the urge to say something, but nothing came to mind. Well, that was weird. What had he been expecting though, really? The whole reason for him talking to the guy was weird to begin with. It was funny; though Sonic was usually very confident around strangers, this whole conversation— which he himself had initiated— had made even him uncomfortable. 

Sonic began to turn the in the opposite direction to head to his own class— only find himself staring at the dead-end hallway again. Whoops. There was only one other way to go. 

The black hedgehog’s ear perked as footsteps echoed behind him, and he turned his head sharply. Sonic’s hands shot back up in the air again upon being caught. “Sorry, ignore me—my class is this way too.” 

The stranger glared at Sonic a moment, then turned back and kept walking. Sonic waited a second, allowing for some space, then continued on behind. 

There was almost no other sound as the two of them made their way down the hall. Sonic slipped his thumbs back into his pockets, trying not to look at the stranger. Eventually, he let his eyes drift to the back of the hedgehog’s head. What was up with the guy, anyway? He sure was a tough nut to crack— tougher than even Knuckles had been when they’d first met, and that was saying something. This guy refused to be warmed up in any way, shape, or form. Sonic had nothing to work with here, and it left him at a loss. 

Eventually Sonic couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Hey,” he ventured, “sorry I got on your nerves back there."

If the other hedgehog heard him, he gave no sign of it.

A few more seconds passed. Sonic took a breath. "I probably shouldn’t have bothered you. It was kinda silly to say anything at all, to be honest. I probably wouldn’t’ve, either, if I’d only had the dream once. It's just weird, you know? ‘Cause I don’t even know you, but this guy that looks exactly like you is in the dream every single time, along with that other hedgehog—”  

“I don’t care!” 

Instantly, the black hedgehog was in Sonic’s face. Teeth bared, fangs showing, a threatening finger nearly stabbed Sonic in the eye. “I’m going to say this once, Blue Hedgehog. I don’t care about your dreams. I don’t care if I was in it, or that white hedgehog, or you, or anybody! And I’m tired of hearing about it.” 

They stood there a moment, with Sonic for once in his life standing perfectly still. The black hedgehog’s finger lowered as he growled. “Are we clear?” 

With the finger out of his face, Sonic slowly straightened. Ok, talking more was definitely not going to take any tension out of the air. He opened his mouth to give a simple reply. 

Then something clicked. “Wait... How did you know the hedgehog was white?”

The scowl on the stranger’s face faded slightly, the air seeming to still. “What?” he breathed. 

“The other hedgehog,” said Sonic, "I never mentioned what color his fur was.” Now he leaned forward, studying the stranger. He met his eyes. "How did you know it was white?”

The stranger gave no response. The blood had slowly drained from his face, leaving it ghostly pale as his mouth hung open wordlessly. 

Then suddenly his face clenched, and a hand jerked out to slap Sonic away. “Enough!” 

He dashed off. It took Sonic a second to recover from the unexpected shove. “Wha- Hey, dude, wait!" He sprinted around the corner ahead. "Where are you going—?!"

The black hedgehog was gone. 

Sonic stood staring blankly down the empty hallway.  What the heck? Thoughts swirled around his brain—half of them were questions, and the other half were answers that didn’t make sense. He leaned his left arm against the rough brick wall next to him. 

Had “white” simply been a guess? A stab in the dark? Was that the color everybody thought of when they pictured the average hedgehog? 

Or did he know, too?

Another blaring brrrring! from the bell startled Sonic out of his thoughts. “Aw, shoot.” He was late for chemistry. He took off at a sprint. 

A few minutes later, Sonic would come rushing through his classroom door. He wouldn’t remember that he needed to grab his textbook from his locker until he was already inside. No excuse would be given when when his teacher scolded him, declaring solemnly that being the school’s track star did not justify him arriving late to class. Later, when everyone was paired up for experiments, Tails would ask him where he’d been; cutting it close was normal for Sonic, but arriving seven minutes after the bell was not. Sonic would hesitate a moment. Then he’d give his best friend a smile, ruffling the fur on his head. “It’s not really important,” he’d say, “no worries. Let’s just get these reactions done.” 

Hours later, in dark of his bedroom, Sonic would still be thinking about that black hedgehog. 

[moldisgoodforyou]

the one at winter formal

warnings: cursing (like always), excessive drinking, mentions of implied smut, angst at the end 

wordcount: 1.7k

gif by @toesure​ !

“we gotta stop to eat beforehand, we need to prepare.” jj told charlie as they drove down the highway to the cabins for his winter formal, his hand resting on her thigh. “prepare for what? I thought the actual dance was tomorrow.” charlie asked, confused. “oh shit, did I not tell you?” jj asked, glancing over at her to gauge her expression. “the formal dinner and whatever is tomorrow, but tonight is fifths and cuffs. I got us bacardi, that’s fine right?”

charlie groaned. “that’s 16 shots, right?” he nodded. “I figured we could split it even. 8 shots of rum should be easy for you. you'll probably be hammered, but you can do it.” charlie sighed. “only ‘cause I love you, maybank.” jj grinned and squeezed her thigh as he pulled off the highway for food. “that’s my girl. I promise I’ll hold your hair back the next morning.” she laughed. “you’d better.”

much later that night, charlie found herself drunk after four shots, handcuffed to her boyfriend that had the tendencies of a toddler after six shots of his own. he had opted to knock back four shots straight away, washing it down with a coors despite charlie’s protests, and was now making it his mission to socialize with every. single. person at the party.

when jj tried pulling away again to go say hi to his freshman year math partner (how on earth would he remember her?), charlie had had enough and simply walked in the opposite direction of him, pulling their handcuffed wrists along. it took a  few seconds of her pulling for him to register and follow after her. “hey! where are we going, pretty girl?” jj questioned, slightly stumbling after her into the kitchen. “maybank, I need you to stop and chill the fuck out for like, three minutes. the room is spinning.” she begged.

jj frowned and reached out, pressing his hands on both sides of her head. “that better, char?” charlie laughed, concentrating on his concerned expression. “yeah, actually, a little. how many more do I have to take?” she asked, glancing at the bottle of bacardi on the counter with sharpie’d tally marks. jj looked down, counting on his fingers at an impossibly slow pace. “one...two...” she snapped her fingers in front of his face. “focus. I think I have four. you have two.”

“oh, that’s fucking easy. you’re just slow.” jj pointed out, pouring the shot for her. “I can’t help it, I’m discom...discombob...” charlie attempted, trailing off. “stop using big words when you’re drunk, I can’t understand you.” jj complained, handing her the shot. “no, you’re drunk.” charlie argued, taking the shot with her handcuffed hand and flinching away when jj tugged her hair with his handcuffed one. jj shook his head. “I have perfect balance. I could pass a sobriety test right fucking now. flying colors.”

“say the alphabet backward.”

“I can’t do that when I’m sober.”

charlie laughed, leaning into jj’s side and making him stumble before wrapping his arm around her shoulders to support her. “why aren’t we cheating at this like everyone else?” jj shook his head, insistent. “because we’re winners, baby.” she wrinkled her nose. “don’t call me that.” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I dunno why you don’t like it. it’s fucking cute. just like you. charlie, have I told you how pretty you are today?” when jj was extra drunk, he laid on the compliments like no other, loving the way she blushed in response. “I hate you.” charlie replied, lifting her head to kiss him. “no you don’t. we’re in love.” jj protested, giving her a short kiss.

she couldn’t help but smile at that. he lifted their wrists, examining the handcuffs. “do you think we could keep these to use tonight?” charlie shoved his hip playfully, forgetting they were connected, and went tumbling into his chest. “we’re sharing a room with five couples, dumbass.” jj grinned, tugging gently on her hair with his free hand. “so just be quiet.” he paused, then smirked. “oh wait, you can’t do that, because you almost got us caught in the -” he had the grace to cut himself off as one of his frat brothers slipped past, giving him a nod. charlie rolled her eyes. “whatever, you love it.” he grinned again. “yeah, I do. now drink up, sweetheart.”

“I just took one!” charlie whined, but went to pour from the bottle. jj grabbed the bottle from her. “that was a half hour ago! just open your mouth.” charlie wrinkled her nose, but obliged as he poured, opening her mouth and swallowing 2 shots worth before stepping on jj’s foot to get him to stop. he dripped a little down her chin and leaned in right away, licking the spill. charlie flinched away, giggling. “you’re disgusting!” she lifted their wrists and used the back of his hand to wipe her chin.

he just laughed, tipping the bottle back and drinking two shots worth. “I’m done! I won!” charlie sighed. “I’m so fucked.” jj smirked. “if you stayed quiet, you could be tonight.” he dropped the smirk quickly upon seeing her glare. “should I just go for it?” she asked, picking up the bottle and swirling around the remainder of the rum. “are you gonna hurl?” jj asked, kissing her forehead. “maybe.” she considered it. “definitely, if I finish it off right now.” he took the bottle away from her, cradling like a football. “then no, because if you hurl, I’ll hurl, and then I can’t take care of you.”

she squeezed her eyes shut, putting her hands on his chest to stabilize herself. “whatcha doing, walker?” jj asked. “there are three of you.” charlie replied, opening her eyes. he grinned. “the more the better!” he dragged her out from the kitchen to where the rest of the party was, then outside to the dock. charlie held tight to his bicep, doing everything in her power to concentrate on not tripping. jj gasped. “baby, I just had the best fucking idea I’ve ever had.” charlie raised her eyebrows. “shoot, genius.”

he gestured out to the lake. “we should go swimming.” charlie just stared at him, expressionless. “you’re kidding.” he shook his head. “no! doesn’t it look nice? then we don’t have to shower.” charlie blinked, her words slurring a little. “we have handcuffs, j, and I’m so drunk I can’t even see one of you. I would fucking drown.” he started toward the dock. “no, no, I was a lifeguard in high school, I got you.” charlie dug her heels into the ground, putting all her weight against him. “hell no!”

“yo, maybank, where you goin?” one of his brothers called out. “swimming!” jj replied, still pulling against her. the guy sighed and grabbed him by the back of the shirt, pulling the two of them back into the cabin. jj squared up, bringing charlie’s wrist up with his. “hey, hands off me!”

charlie just rolled her eyes, thanking the brother as he walked away. “I’ve never seen you this bad. you’re a fucking mess when you’re drunk.” 

with the way he reacted, it was like she had struck him across the face. hard. a wave of hurt flashed over jj’s face and he frowned immediately. “don’t say that. I’m not.” 

charlie waved her hand in dismissal. “you know what I mean.” 

he shook his head. “no, I don’t. don’t say that. I’m not a mess.” 

charlie frowned, confused, and reached her free hand up to cup his cheek. 

he pulled away, forcing a half-smile and pushing the bottle to her chest. “you have two shots left, walker.” 

charlie frowned, taking it but not drinking. “jj. what’s wrong, what did I say?”

jj repeated himself, slower. “I’m not a mess.” 

charlie sighed, quietly, as it clicked. “oh, j...I didn’t mean to...” 

he shook his head. “drink, charlie, and we can get these handcuffs off.” she frowned and tilted the bottle to her lips, finishing off the rum with a shudder. they traded in the empty bottle to a pledge for the keys and unlocked the handcuffs, releasing their wrists. 

charlie took jj’s hand, pulling him outside immediately to where it was quiet, to sit on a bench by the water. “what are you -” jj asked, going quiet when charlie threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. he relaxed into her touch, resting his head on top of her chin. “I’m fine, charlie,” he murmured into her hair.

charlie pulled back slightly to kiss him, gentle. she ran her fingers through his hair, anything to reassure him. “I’m sorry, j, I wasn’t thinking. if anyone’s the mess right now, it’s me. you’re kinda blurry.” she tried joking. he laughed a little and she smiled. she rested her head on his chest, leaning into him again. 

she took a breath, hesitating. “is it because of your dad?” she murmured quietly. she could feel him nodding on top of her head and squeezed him tighter. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry, hon.” her pet name for him rarely came out, only in private - so he knew she was serious (and somehow, still coherent).

maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he was comfortable talking about it with her after a few months of dating - or maybe he just loved this girl so much that he felt like he could finally trust someone. 

“I might be like him sometimes, but not gonna end up like him. I’m not.” he mumbled. 

she lifted her head to look him in the eye, gently cupping his chin in her hand. “you’re not like him, j. you’re kind, and caring, and loyal as hell, and you notice every little detail, even when I don’t expect you to.” he kept her gaze, the corner of his lips barely turning up in an imperceptible smile. “I love you so, so much, j. I don’t say it enough.” he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. “love you too.” 

“m’ sorry I’m drunk.” he added. she laughed softly. “you’re faring a lot better than I am. your words are all there.” he paused, considering her words. “I don’t even think it’s all hit you yet, pretty girl.” she sighed, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers. “it will when I stand.” he smiled. “s’okay. I got you.” 

“you’re mine, j, don’t forget it.” charlie insisted, kissing him softly. he nudged his nose with hers. “you’re a sap.” she grinned. “yeah. your sap.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #414

“mirror, mirror, tell me who you see  /  am i you or me?  /  i can never remember”

How many people have you kissed? Four. Ever kissed someone you weren’t dating at the time? No. Of the people you’ve kissed, how many do you regret kissing? Two. Ever been kissed by a legal adult when you were a minor (or vise-versa)? Yeah, with Jason, but it was only a two-year difference. Ever kissed someone on a dare/as part of a game? No. Where’s the most public place you’ve ever made out with someone? Nowhere public. I wouldn't do that. Can you snowboard? Never tried. Have you ever made a mixed cd for someone? No. Do you use recycle bins at your house? Yes. Do you own more than one bathing suit? No. Have you ever kissed someone who smokes weed? Jason did occasionally with his best friend, but he stopped for me. How are you right this second? I'm all right. Last night was pretty rough, so I'm just glad that's over. My body is just tired. Is there anything you disliked about your last birthday? Honestly, I barely remember what I did on my last birthday. I just remember it was fine. Oh wait, actually, on the way home from going out to eat, we had to call the cops while behind a car whose driver was obviously drunk or high OFF. HIS. ASS. He was swerving like crazy and almost hit SO many cars. I was having an absolute panic attack. I pray to God that guy was more than just found and fined. Do you keep a diary or journal (offline or online)? No, unless you count surveys, I guess. What were you like a year ago? I was the unhappily the same. Is someone on your mind right now? Fucking always. Having a warm dream about him last night didn't help. Who was the last person you sat next to? My mom. What do you currently hear right now? My screen is split so I can watch John Wolfe play some indie horror games. What’s something you need to go shopping for? I need to get new bras baaaadly because I'm tired of none fitting properly. What’s the last thing you ate? I had a donut 'cuz Mom stopped at Dunkin' for coffee. Do/did you do good in school? I did up to college. Then I just... sucked. Do you always get along with your siblings? I mean I don't see/talk to them every day or anything, not even very regularly even, but we generally get along fine now as adults. We disagree about shit for sure, but keep our mouths shut. Or probably talk to Mom about it while I'm not present. I don't even think they like me half of the time. Are you frustrated with anything? So much. Why did you fall for the last person romantically? There were/are a lot of factors. Just she as a person is phenomenal. What’s your younger sibling’s name? Nicole. Can you speak in a different language conversationally; if so, which language? A tiny bit of German. Do you ever fear of falling asleep? With my nightmares, I used to dread it. Now, thankfully, my APAP mask has prevented them from happening, mostly; I've only had two in the month that I've had it, and I ordinarily had them every single night. Do you have an idea of what kind of profession you’d like to have? I do, but I honestly doubt I'm going to succeed in even making it a part-time job by this damn point. Which beach would you say is your favorite? I don't have a favorite. I don't even like the beach very much. What kind of cookie is your favorite? Chocolate chip. Have you ever had a churro? Yes. Too crunchy and ridiculously sweet, not a fan. Truth be told, are you more into looks or personalities the most? A good personality beats good looks any day. How is/was your chemistry class in high school? I actually didn't take chemistry; my graduating year, physical science was offered as the alternative, which I took. How does alcohol affect you? I get hot, and my face flushes badly. It'll make me more talkative. Have you ever tried lemon brownies? No, and I don't want to. I don't like lemon-flavored stuff like that. What was the last type of meat you ate? Beef. Have you taken any medication today? I have prescriptions I take every day. Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? I've seen some of it at Sara's house. What is your favourite kind of pasta? Just spaghetti with tomato sauce and meatballs, really. I've been on a major chicken pesto kick lately, though. Have you set an alarm today? No. Think of a random person, and give them a message here, no names: Literally just the chance to say "I'm sorry" would be fucking amazing. Just two fucking words. What if there were two of you? Would the world be in trouble? No. That'd be a waste of space, though. Not like I'm contributing much to society. Would you prefer an ice cream sundae or an ice cream cone? I dunno man, it depends on my mood and what I want in the moment. Do you watch movies with the subtitles on? No; I find it to be distracting. Is the last person you kissed yours? I hate this saying. She's her own person that belongs to nobody but herself. But to just go along with it and answer the question, no, we're not together. Do you think you will be married by the time you are 25? Welp, I'm halfway through 25, so. Do you have siblings over the age of 21? All of my siblings are. Do you have a hard time admitting you’re wrong? No. Especially as I've aged, I'd say I'm pretty quick to accept if I've fucked up. Who has the ability to hurt you the most emotionally? Jason will probably always have that power, even if he's not in my life. Would you ever be a stripper? God no, nobody wants to see that. What are your plans for tomorrow? Just get through the day, man. Do you owe anybody money? No. How would your parents describe you? Reserved, shy, a deep thinker, animal lover, uhhhh... What is the most you have ever weighed? Let's not. Would you ever work at McDonald's? No. I'm never working in food service. If you aren't already, would you go vegetarian or vegan? I want to be a vegetarian and being a vegan would be perfectly ideal for me, but I really don't think I can healthily accomplish either. I am FAR too picky to where I'd almost definitely become malnourished. To make it even worse I absolutely cannot "suck it up" if I don't like a food, so it's not like I could choke down stuff I don't like. Not to mention I'd be pretty sad without any yummy food to look forward to, aha. Coolest person you've ever met? Uhhhh I don't know. Do you wear boxers? No. Girls, how old were you when you first learned how to put in a tampon? I don't remember. Would you ever attend a gay pride parade or festival? I would absolutely love to. Did you see Paranormal Activity 2? I think I've seen all of the movies. I liked them, given paranormal horror films are probably my fave. What would you do if an old man grabbed your ass? Kick him in the fucking balls so goddamn fast and probably slap him across the face at the same time. Probably cry later from feeling violated and having my fear of men aggravated. Do you like moustaches? It depends on the person, but I'd say I generally prefer an attached beard and a mustache versus JUST a mustache. Could you hack into someone's computer if you tried hard enough? No. I have no idea how to do that. Have you ever smoked a cigar? No. Do you go out on Black Friday? Hell no. NOT worth fighting people for deals. Do you have curtains in your bedroom? No; I have those blinds that you can close upwards or downwards. Did you like the Spice Girls when you were little? Yeah, I did. Can you sing the entire Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song? I think I can. Do you get heartburn? I'm literally on an antacid prescription, or else I get insane heartburn every day. Are you scared of elevators? To a moderate degree, yes. I'm terrified of it getting stuck. Have you ever seen a dead body in person? Yes, at an open-casket wake. Have you ever seen The Goonies? I have. If you're white, do you ever wish you were black? Or vice versa? I'm fine being Caucasian, but ultimately don't care. Do you bake cookies all the time around Christmas? I don't bake. Do you like your hair pulled? Uhhh... I'm assuming you mean this in a suggestive context, in which case no. Never pull my hair, actually. What kind of jeans do you like? Ripped skinny jeans. What do you think is overrated? Who really cares. Let people enjoy what they enjoy. And what are your goals for the remainder of this year? Lose lots of weight, find a job, get back into old hobbies and develop new ones... Name a city that starts with A in your state/province etc. Asheboro. Name a landmark that starts with M in your state/province etc. I'm blanking right now. When was the last time you gave a horse a carrot? Been years. I think I've only done that once, and I can't even remember where it was. Have you ever had to shovel snow? No. How many seasons is your favorite TV show in so far? MM was just revived for its fifth season! :') Where would you most like to go in your state, etc. that you haven’t been? NC actually has this really old Wizard of Oz theme park! It's on the other end of the state, though, and NC is one wiiiiiide state. What was the last bird you saw? A robin, I think. What color was the last thing you drank? Green. Has a wild animal ever been loose in your house? Besides insects, no. Well wait, scratch that, once or twice we had a small mice problem when we lived in the woods. What’s the name of the bookstores in your city? The only one I know off the top of my head is Books-a-Million. Where do your parents live? I live with my mom, and Dad lives in the same city as us. Have you ever seen or touched an iceberg? No, but that would be cool. What colour are your father’s eyes? Brown. If your ex turned up on your doorstep now, with nowhere else to go, would you let him/her stay? Well one, this isn't my house, so I can't make that decision. My mom being who she is though, she'd let pretty much anyone stay the night. If it was Sara, Mom would let her stay as long as she needed. The last time you cried, was it connected with someone of the opposite sex? Ugh, yes. My PTSD was BAD last night. Delicious warm brownies or a giant cookie? I'll take the brownie. Have you visited a haunted building or area before? No, but damn I'd love to. Have you been to North Carolina? Ayyyyeeeee that's my home.

[pixelatedrose]

Soulbound part Three

First | Previous | Part 3 | Next

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Word count: 1,731

Pairings: prinxiety, logicality, background Remile

Warrnings: minor cursing, being left behind, feeling out of place, name calling, absent siblings, tell me if I missed anything important or please just call me out if there's anything you want me to tag!!

Summary:

Roman Prince and Logan Rose are soulmates. They’re platonic soulmates though. They both have the same Soul mark to prove it. But they both have one other soul mark, binding them to one other person. And when they find Patton Miles, it just so happens that they’re both his soulmate. Logan being his Soulbound Soulmate, and Roman being a platonic soulmate. But something feels missing. And it feels filled, shockingly so, when they meet a certain someone a year and a half after they found each other.

Chapter 3

Virgil had had a weird experience in his third period. It was okay at first, but then he remembered that people have soulmates.

  And Virgil didn't. 

~~•~~

  Virgil only remembered Roman because of his ridiculous way of calling roll. He walked up to him. “Are you Roman Prince?” he asked tiredly.

  Roman smiled and held a hand to his chest. “The one and only!” He smirked. “Come to admire how pretty I am?” he asked with a wink.

  Virgil snorted. Roman was pretty. He was probably the prettiest boy Virgil had seen in years, not since he’d bumped into that other hot guy on the street a few years back. “As in pretty dull? Maybe. It is a wonder of the world after all.”

  Roman placed his other hand over his heart as if hurt and threw his head back just enough to toss his hair. "I'm offended! You wound me!!" He said theatrically. Roman held out his hand smiling. "I assume we're seating partners then! How do you do, my emo nightmare?"

  Virgil stopped himself. It felt so very right to banter and talk to Roman, but Virgil knew better than that. He could see the galaxy marking peeking out from his collar. He had a soulmate. Maybe more than one. Virgil couldn’t and wouldn’t be his friend. Virgil hardened his voice and started walking to the back of the class where he’d been sitting before. "Come now, Prince of the Preppy, we don't know each other and honestly I don't think we ever will. We're not sitting up front."

  If Virgil didn’t know any better, he would have said he could almost feel the disappointment radiating off of Roman. But Virgil did know better. And things like that didn’t happen. Especially not to Virgil.

  Roman however, didn’t take the hint. "Hey there, plum hair! Tell me, what's it like looking so fruity?"

  Virgil felt a small tinge of heat rise up to his cheeks and he snorted into his hoodie sleeve. "I dunno...what's it like being so fruity?" Why did I respond? I can’t be his friend so why even try?

  Roman smirked at Virgil and once again reached out his hand for Virgil to shake. "An absolute delight!" he snickered.

  Virgil once again ignored his invitation. Damn, he’s sort of cute… Virgil thought, sitting down. What’s his deal, anyway? If he has a soulmate why bother?

  "Fine alright," Roman gave up. "I'll stop talking, panic-at-the-everywhere."

  "Sweet." Virgil forced himself to say. Why was this the answer he didn’t want to give? Virgil’s mind worked in such odd ways.

  "Really? Like really Really?"

  "Yep." He popped the P and pointedly turned away from Roman. 

  "Are you kidding me?"

  "Nope." He again popped the P.

  "You know we're going to have to sit next to each other all semester, right?"

  "Yeah…? And…?"

  "Well you have to talk to me eventually!"

  "And I'll stay here dreading when that dreaded eventually will come."

  "You cannot be serious! Come on I'm fabulous!"

  "Fabulously plastic, dumb, and shallow, if that's what you mean."

  "Shallow?!"

  "Uh, yeah?"

  "How dare-!"

  The teacher called attention to the class and Virgil felt a weird knot in his stomach. He pointedly ignored everything, especially Roman, until his attention was won over by the red head with a question.

  "If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?" He sighed out.

  Virgil answered before his head knew what he was talking about. "Soulmarks. I'd get rid of all Soulmarks." His answer may have been haphazardly chucked out of his mouth, but it wasn't any less untrue. In fact Virgil believed what he had said with his whole heart.

  Virgil hated Soulmarks.

  Everyone was obsessed with them.

  Everyone had them.

  Everyone had a soulmate.

  Everyone but Virgil.

  So maybe if they were gone, Virgil would finally have the chance to be normal.

  But Soulmarks would never be gone. They had been there since the beginning of ever. Actually, no one really knew when they started to pop up…

  Virgil's attention snapped to a pair of people arguing and he pulled out his phone and started recording. He had always been this way. He liked to have dirt on people. It gave him a little power where he lacked the respect of others.

  "Whoa…yo Virgil check this ou-" Roman started to turn towards the Emo boy who was already well aware of the fight. He realized what he was doing and his eyes narrowed. "What are you doing…?

  "Blackmail." Virgil responded easily.

  "What?!"

  "You never know when it may come in handy."

  "You're the creepiest emo kid I've ever met."

  "And how many emos have you met exactly?"

  "Three! There was this one girl in my middle school that-"

  "Yeah okay you can shut up now." Virgil his face under his bangs and in his hoodie sleeve. The way that Roman responded so easily was somewhat annoying.

  "Well thanks."

  The fight had ended soon enough and the bell had rung, and not wanting to give Roman the chance to further make him regret life itself, Virgil left without saying a word to the preppy boy.

~~•~~

  Virgil had had a smooth fourth period and had avoided lunch all together, opting to wander campus for a safe hiding spot rather than go anywhere near the cafeteria that was so overfilled with people.

  His fifth period was pretty dull as was his fourth, and so he doodled in his notebook. He looked down at what he was drawing before panicking and furiously erasing the doodle. He had absentmindedly started drawing a Prince that looked very much like a one Roman Prince.

  Why did I start drawing him?? Virgil silently asked himself. What was it about Roman Prince that had so captured his mind?

  Luckily, Virgil had theater next class.

  Virgil wasn't much of an actor, at least not one for the stage, but he enjoyed stagecraft so much. He worked with lights most of the time, but would work props and costumes when they were shorthanded.

  Virgil, for once, was excited for his next class. It would be the perfect distraction for him.

  Virgil walked into the classroom and was instantly pushed back out by a pair of hands.

  "Whoops! Sorry there, we're going to be out on the stage today!" A tall man who looked all too familiar said.

  "Okay, cool." Virgil rolled with it and walked in the direction he had been pushed. The man that had pushed him looked so so familiar to Virgil...But he couldn't quite place where exactly he'd seen him before.

  "Everyone else is already out there, I had just forgotten some things back in the class." The man said. He must be the teacher then. "By the way, what's your name? I'm the new theater teacher, just started this year!" He said brightly.

  Virgil shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Guess that makes two of us then. I just transferred over this year. I used to go to Lakeside."

  "Lakeside, huh? Now isn't that neat! That was my high school when I was your age!"

  "Really? I'm so sorry."

  "Why? I loved it there!"

  "Well I guess that's what sets us apart…"

  "What was that?"

  "Nothing, nothing! I bet it was better when you were there, that's all."

  "Had it rough over there?"

  "I guess…" Virgil sunk further back into his hoodie, but he didn't have to wait long before they entered the stage to find the rest of the small theater class scattered across the stage and chatting.

  Virgil felt his throat catch in dismay as he caught the eye of none other than Roman Prince.

  Damnit… Virgil thought bitterly. Why do I always have the worst of luck?

  The teacher called everyone to circle up on stage and Roman nearly made it all the way across the stage over to Virgil before a girl with pink stripe in her long bronze hair bounced over to him and dragged him over to the left of Virgil, putting give five people between them.

  Virgil slowly and soundlessly let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in, a little of the tension leaving his shoulders.

  The played a few warm up games and then they took a tour around the theater, Virgil and many of the other students already knowing most of what was being showed.

  As they went up to the catwalks though, questions popped up. One of which caught Virgil's attention.

  The girl with the pink stripe, Rose, raised her hand. "Mr. Sanders? Do you ever use the catwalks for special effects like fake snow and stuff?" She asked.

  Virgil's breath hitched in his throat.

  "Sure. I wouldn't know if that's ever been done in this particular theater since I'm new, but yeah. It's been done many times before." The teacher said. But it was as if the words had glided straight over Virgil's head, carried by an unseen breeze.

  Mr. Sanders…? As in...his last name is Sanders…??

  Class ended and before Roman could get to him Virgil walked up to the teacher. "Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?"

  Virgil wouldn't have seen the way Roman deflated as the teacher nodded and took Virgil off to the side, effectively making it impossible for him to talk to the purple haired boy without making a scene.

  "Your last name is Sanders?" Virgil asked hesitantly. He couldn't bring himself to look at the man anymore. He could remember where he'd seen him before now. He knew who he was.

  "Yes? And it's dawned on me I never actually caught your name! I'm just completely flopping a teacher here, between forgetting things in my classroom and not even catching one of my student's names!" Thomas laughed.

  "My name is Virgil…" He shuffled his feet and looked at the ground rather than at his older brother's face. "Virgil Sanders." He forced himself to meet the taller man's eyes, which were now struck with somber realization.

  "Oh god, Virgil…" Thomas said, starting to reach for his little brother's face to wipe away the slowly building tears.

  Virgil slapped his hand away. "Don't." He spat. He started to walk away. "I don't care why you're here anymore." He stalked away and as the heavy doors closed behind him, Thomas would hear his brother mutter under his breath;

  "Dead-beat…"

Author's note: so I was going to get this out last night but things happened (not bad things I swear!!) And so I'm sitting in the car rn getting this out on my phone. I apologize for any spelling mistakes, anything else, and for the fact that i don't have parts 1 and 2 linked and won't have them linked until later. But that's it!! I had fun writing this and hope you all enjoyed it!!

Tag List:

@anxietea-and-insanitea

@ghostboi-bambi

@scrunchiescrunchie

[tnystrk-exe]

we both know how this song ends

Jack Daniels x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Emotional/Physical abuse, mentions of suicide, death. Starts in high school. Each chapter is roughly 4k 

Chapter One

The buzzing of your alarm clock woke you away. Mind still fuzzy, you slapped a hand on it to turn it off. Finally, school was starting up and you wouldn’t have to hear about how much of a waste you were from your mom and her newest boyfriend. 

Since your father had died, your mom kinda lost it. One day she was normal and the next… Well she just wasn’t her anymore. Your dad was her everything and you just weren’t enough to keep her sane. It had been hard to deal with losing both of your parents at once. Sometimes, you weren’t sure which was worse. 

Your father was gone and that had been painful. But your mother was here and she couldn’t even look at you unless she was angry. At first you had tried, you really did. You cleaned the house. Made her dinner. Showed her all of your accomplishments. It was never enough for a smile. No. The laundry wasn’t done. The food was too salty. Jessica’s daughter did better than that. So, you stopped. After a while you learned your lesson. 

Not too long after that came the men. Some would come for weeks. Others minutes. Never particularly long enough to know them other than angrily traded words. You stayed locked up in your room or out of your house as much as possible. 

Sighing, you forced yourself to start the day. Grabbing a shirt and pants you threw them on before slipping on your shoes. You glanced at your hiding spot. This new guy had gotten your mother into pawning your stuff and looting around your room for money for his fix lately. The money hidden under your bed would be found quickly, no doubt. Sighing you went to grab it and placed it in your backpack. It would be better if you just started to keep your valuables close. 

Shouldering your bag you walked out of the small room. It seemed like your dad left and everything good with him. The house was sold, one income meant goodbye home sweet home. Your mother had blown the money so quickly in her depression? Anger? You weren’t quite sure what to call it. So you moved into a shabby too close together apartment in the middle of Who Knows Where, USA. No trace of the good, old times in sight. That is other than the box of old family pictures the newest one had his dirty work boots propped on top of.

“Hey, kid, where’s the fucking rent?” He asked, already smoking his first cigarette of the day.

“Take your fucking feet off of that.”

He lifted his foot, slamming it back down. The crunch of the glass angering you instantly. “What are you going to do about it?”

You balled your fist. Soon you’d be out. Soon it wouldn’t matter. Soon this whole life would be behind you. “Fuck you, Steve,” you scoffed in disgust. 

He laughed at your retreating form. “If that’s how you want to pay your rent that’s fine. Bet you’re better at it than your mom anyway.”

Red flag noted. No being alone with that creep. 

You started cycling to the school. Of course you got to be new in your last year. Just your luck. The small town could have been really cute, that is if your personal life hadn’t soured the experience. It was a big change from the city life you had been used to. The air was fresher and it was way quieter than anywhere else you had ever been. 

Maybe it would have been nice if you hadn’t felt so alone all the time. So much had changed in seven months. Hopefully, in another seven they would change for the better. You weren’t sure just how long you could keep going like this. It was getting to be too much already. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. No use in being a baby about it. This was your life and it would have to be for just a little while longer. There was a banner across the school’s entrance that read welcome class of ‘91. Just this one year and you’d go to college somewhere far from your mother and her new life. 

You left your bike at the rack and went to follow the mass. Most people were walking toward the cafeteria. Others were already flocking into their cliques, which made you miss your own all the more when you heard their laughter and inside jokes. When you finally made your way into the crowded cafeteria, you made your way to the senior lines. 

“Hello, there pretty lady,” greeted a guy with a god awful start to a mustache.

You nodded, “Hey.”

“I haven’t seen you around here, I’d like to think I woulda remembered seeing an angel.”

“Jackie boy!” Someone called out from behind you, “I already called dibs on that piece.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him. Just one year. 

“Name miss?”

“YN LN.”

The teacher started looking through her files. When she finally found it, she handed you a thick folder of papers. “Your schedule and locker number are on the first page. The rest is everything your parents need to sign and information on your graduation ring and gown. Your teachers should give you all the books you need as you see them.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You left the cafeteria and started an attempt at looking for your locker. “Where do I even start?” you muttered under your breath.

The sound of boots behind you and a tap on the shoulder made you turn around. “Look, I’m sorry about Eric. He’s a dick. He likes to say stupid shit like that.”

“We’ll call it even if you help me find my locker,” you offered. “For Eric and that awful line.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” he nodded as he took your folder and took a look at your schedule. “Looks like I got lucky. Yours is across from mine. If you want I can show you the way around.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“So what brought you over here?” He signaled you to follow him as he asked.

“Something’s changed recently,” you shrugged, “New start. You always lived here?”

“Born. Raised. Hopefully, this won’t end here.”

“Oh yeah, you’ve got so much more to see than this small town.”

He laughed, “What’s the outside world like darlin’.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. There’s people that don’t all exclusively wear flannels and Stentons. Buildings and crowds as far as the eye could see.”

“I’m getting the heebies jus’ thinkin’ about it, he shuddered for added effect, “Name’s Jack Daniels.”

“Your parents do realize-“

“Yeah. Mom had to talk dad down from Daniel Daniels. Let’s just call this one a win. What’s yours? I wanna judge your parents' choices too.”

“YN LN.”

“Damn. That’s actually kinda cute. I’ll let that mouth of yours slide just this once.” He stopped and pointed to a locker and then another, “Yours. Mine. First days here are usually just ice breakers. I’d recommend just bringing a pencil, paper, and your backpack for today. Your path doesn’t cross your locker until you hit fourth period. Go put some of your things up and I’ll walk you around.”

You nodded and had done as he said. Honestly, you hadn’t thought you’d find someone you’d be so comfortable with this early. But Jack had seemed kind enough, so you’d roll with it and see where it went. He showed you throughout the school, making sure to show you short cuts you could take for your classes. It wasn’t too long before he ended the trip at your first period class. 

“Well, this is where we end. Is my debt paid off?”

“Yeah, it is. We’re all squared up.”

“Then sweetie pie, I hope I’m lucky enough to see you around.”

You laughed, “How many of those are you going to try?”

He shrugged, “I’m a fan of Pretty Lady. Can’t promise I won’t try out more.” Jack turned heel and walked off to his own class. 

Part of you berated yourself for not comparing schedules when you had the chance. He had been the first real interaction you had had in awhile. Even more if you had to admit it, other than the ‘stache he was easy on the eyes. 

It wasn’t until you met Vanessa in second period that you stopped thinking about him. Maybe you weren’t so infatuated and just missed having company. 

“Let me see your schedule?”

You handed it over. “Any matches?”

“Lunch and seventh period. You should have fifth period with my Jack.” You could have sworn she sighed lovingly. “Well, he doesn’t know he’s my Jack, but he will be.”

“Ah... Jack Daniels?”

“Yeah,” another sigh and a doped up look, “You’ve met him already?”

“Yep, he walked me around the school in the morning.”

“He’s always a gentleman.”

Okay, Vanessa probably wouldn’t be an exactly close friend. Not because of Jack, but she just seemed like the type that crushed on people too hard for your liking. Nice girl, couldn’t deny that. Pretty soon you knew a decent amount. She had a crush on Jack since the beginning of first grade. He worked on her family’s farm during the summer and one time he even winked at her when her daddy wasn’t looking. 

The bell rang and your icebreaker bingo was thrown in the trash.

It was still a surprise when Jack looked around the class in fifth period and caught you with a big smile. “Well, wouldn’t you look at that!” He sauntered over toward you, “It looks like you and me have chemistry lil’ miss.”

“Not as much as you and Vanessa,” you joked.

He took the seat next to you, condemning himself to be your partner for the rest of the year. “I promise, I’m not her Jack.”

“Mmm, you sure you just don’t know it yet?”

“I’m certain. She’s a good girl, but she’s just not for me. I got grass in my eye a while ago and she thought I sent a wink her way. Vanessa wouldn’t stop making eyes at me the rest of the summer. I dunno, she may just be too clingy for my taste.”

You patted his back. “Good luck. She’s got it bad.”

“I know, she’s stuck on me being her first kiss.”

“You were her first kiss?”

“And she was mine. It was a little kiddie school play. She was a princess and I was a frog.”

“It couldn’t be any more obvious. Got any pictures I can make fun of?”

“You can stop by mine sometime. I’ll show you. Speaking of, what are your plans after school?”

You shook your head, “I don’t really have any.” You were embarrassed to admit that you were gonna ride around town and avoid going home as long as you could. 

“Great. There’s this burger place, best milkshakes in the town. Also the only place you can get one but that’s beside the point. If you don’t mind hanging out that is.”

“No, um, that sounds really nice.”

“Me and you after school. It’s a plan.”

After school, Jack put your bike in the back of his blue Chevy and drove you to the best shake spot in town. He had made you laugh and smile more than you had in a long time. You almost pitied Vanessa for not grabbing his attention. Jack really did seem like a great guy. Too bad you’d probably leave and he’d stay here. The conversation stayed light. You didn’t want to get to the poor girl with the sad life pity party yet. For now, he gave you a sense of normalcy that you wanted to hold onto for a while longer. 

That was until it was time to go home.

“You can leave me here.”

“What? No, I can take you down the street.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “My mom’s real strict, J. If you drop me off, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Okay, fine. Can I pick you up for school? You’re on my way anyhow.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“6:30 sharp,” he said with a tone that left no room for argument, “Then, just maybe, we’ll be able to get some decent breakfast.” You went to get out the car and he followed after, taking your bike back out for you. “If she’s so strict you should probably keep bringing your bike. I don’t want you to get an earful on my account. See you tomorrow.”

You started to walk your bike down the street. When you started to put your bike up is when you noticed the old truck start to drive away. It made your heart flutter a bit with how much this still stranger cared about you. The feeling of it didn’t last long when you looked at the apartment door. Steeling yourself you walked in.

“And where have you been you little bitch?” Your mother asked, instantaneously. “Whoring around no doubt.” 

“You know what they say,” you shrug, “the apple doesn’t fall far.”

You couldn’t react with how quickly she got in your face. Her nails dug into your jaw as she made you look at her. “Don’t disrespect me. I’m your mother.”

“I remember a time you liked me.” You don’t know why you said it, but it had just fallen out. The part of you that still wanted answers no doubt.

“You’re just a burden and a disappointment,” she scoffed, disgusted by the idea. “You know, YN, I bet you’re the reason your dad killed himself.”

Tears blurred your vision but you didn’t let them fall. “Take it back.”

“What? Are you going to cry?” Her alcohol laced breath wafted into your face, “Daddy killed himself and mommy doesn’t love you anymore. Does the little baby want to cry?”

“You’re such a fucking bitch.”

Her hand slammed heavily against your face. For a split second she looked surprised, but it was gone in an instant. “Go to your fucking room and don’t come out.”

No need to be told twice. You went to your room and locked the door behind yourself. With a shaky breath you sent your backpack down and went to look in a mirror. Wincing at the damage. 

“Let’s see if you’ll think twice about opening that fat mouth,” you heard your mother yell into the house.

Just a few months, you could make it. Things would get better. 

The next morning, you woke up and instantly went to check your face. God, you could have cried the second you saw the ugly bruised skin. What would Jack say? You tried so hard to keep this all quiet just to be ruined the next day. Grabbing whatever was closest, you changed and got ready for the day. Still checking yourself in the mirror every so often hoping that somehow it would go away. 

You didn’t even throw a comment to Steve on the couch this morning. Didn’t do anything at another of his lewd comments. Something about being open to a blowjob from that pretty little mouth. 

It was like you were in auto pilot. Just kept walking with your head down, bike in tow. You didn’t realize how far you had walked until you heard Jack’s increasingly familiar engine. 

“I know you said your mom was strict, but you could have given me a warning you wanted to get picked up this far out,” Jack said, the truck crawling along the road beside you. “YN?”

“Hm, sorry,” you got yourself back into the real world, “It’s okay. It’s a nice day out. I feel like walking some.”

“That’s nonsense,” he protested, jumping out from the truck and walking to you, “Just, lemme load her up and- What happened to you?” You flinched when his hand came up to your face, but it was much gentler than last time it happened, “I wouldn’t hurt you sugar. Ever. Tell me what happened.” His thumb stroked your jaw as soft as possible as he tried to comfort you. 

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Jack.” You pulled away from his hand. “I just want to get past all of this. Please?”

“Was it because of me?” It made sense to him, you got home late, maybe his cologne had lingered on you since the truck was so small.

You shook your head, “Things were tense long before you. You’re not even in the cards.”

“How are you feeling about school?”

“I don’t think so, not with this,” you motioned at the forming bruise, “It’s just going to get worse.”

“Tell you what. We’ll pick up some make up, so you can feel more comfortable with it being covered up. Then we’ll go do who knows what together. Okay? You and me.”

He put your bike into the truck and helped you into the car. At the store he dealt with the disproving look from the cashier. What was he supposed to say? Oh that wasn’t from me. This was a small town after all. It wouldn’t matter what he’d say. Word spread as fast as fire. Soon everyone would know about the Daniels boy going around with a strange new girl. Keep your girls safe, the bruise on her cheek looked especially horrible. 

Jack handed the money over and grabbed then he grabbed the bag. Grabbing your hand in his, he took you back to the truck. You had entered this calm daze. Not really speaking, just doing as he asked. 

“Would ya mind staying at my house?” He hadn’t bothered to add that you needed to rest. With a shake of your head he started up the old truck and went home.

The home was nice. Classic American if anything. Two stories, baby blue with white trim, and a white fence. Not all white you noted. There were pink, blue, and yellow hand prints on the door. Mom, dad, and Jack were fading words underneath them. Your family had had something similar with a height wall, though little you never quite caught on that your parents never changed much. 

“It’s really pretty, Jack.”

“Thank you, darlin’. My dad would appreciate it more than anyone. He built it when mom and him got engaged.”

“That sounds really sweet.”

“I’m hopin’, one day I get to do the same. C’mon. Meet my old girl Bess.” He nodded for you to follow him up the path. Jack patted his thigh, “She’d never been the best at hunting. But she is a lovely girl.” 

The old bloodhound stood to nuzzle it’s head into his thigh when he reached the porch, before going over to give you the same treatment. “Hi, Bess,” you scratched behind her ear. 

“She likes you. She’s not very fond of strangers. Let’s get on inside and I’ll make us all some breakfast. You’re welcome to look around.” 

The inside of the home was modest enough. You could have sworn the place smelled of freshly baked cookies. Jack immediately made a beeline for the kitchen. Which left you and Bess alone in the front room. You took the time to look at the pictures that had been placed around the living room as Bess made herself cozy on the couch. 

Jack smiling a wide smile, with what you assumed was his first tooth he lost, held out proudly to the camera. An older picture of his parents kissing on their wedding day. The woman holding Jack, looking tired but relieved to see her son. Another of Jack sitting in his dad’s lap in the same truck he had brought you home in. The pictures were sweet but they made your heart clench horribly. They reminded you of a life you didn’t get to have anymore. That was enough to let loose the tears you had been reluctant to let fall. 

You tried to keep your sobs down, but Jack noticed all the same. His arm wrapped around your shoulder and he led you to the couch. “Talk to me, sweetheart. I can’t help you the way you need if I don’t know…” 

So you spilled it all, every single detail. How your father had left and didn’t even leave a reason. Not even a note. You hadn’t been worth a note. There wasn’t any way to find any clues with everything gone. Your mother’s spiral downward. The ever revolving door of men. The growing fear that maybe she’d start to depend on drugs as much as the alcohol. “She’s never laid a hand on me. That was the first time and for a second, Jack, I thought she was back, but then she got buried up again. She’s right there, but she’s so fucking far. And I want to be angry. More than anything. But I’m just so depressed. I don’t know, maybe it was me, maybe I am the reason he killed himself like she said.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Slow that down,” he grabbed a cloth and wiped away your tears, “I don’t know much about your father, but you couldn’t have been the reason. Your mom is just spouting bullshit because she’s angry at the world. Taking it out on you is a shit thing to do. You deserve so much better.”

You gave him a faltering smile, “I don’t deserve anything.”

“Don’t say that. I’d give you the world if I could.”

You sighed, leaning into him. There was no denying how comforting Jack Daniels was. “You’re just saying that to be sweet.”

Jack pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m not sweet to just anyone.”

“Sure, J,” you sniffed, “Is something burning?”

“The pancakes,” Jack confirmed.

“Jack!”

“What? I had to pick my battles. You were more important.”

“Sunshine, you can’t just do that!” The term of endearment lost to you. You stood and rushed into the kitchen. The room was grey with smoke. Taking the skillet off the stove you stuffed it into the oven.

Jack opened up the windows, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. 

You raised a brow, “What got you so happy?”

“Nothin’ pretty lady. But take a seat, I promised you a breakfast and you’re getting one.”

Jack went to go grab a fan and pointed it to the window, pushing out more smoke. He pulled out a bar stool and motioned for you to sit down. Your luck had been shit lately and he was hell bent on giving you a nice day. A good homemade breakfast would be a nice start. 

“Now, sugar, I’mma try out these pancakes again. You need to try this homemade blueberry sauce ma makes. You’re going to love it.” He started to make the works. Eggs, bacon, and pancakes, no clue what you’d actually like so he gave you a selection. Jack served your plate and set a mug of coffee and a glass of orange juice in front of you.

You plucked a piece of bacon from your plate and fed it to Bess who had taken to laying on the floor beside your chair. “This is really too much. You didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t, but you’re so cute I couldn’t help myself.” He winked at you, “How else am I supposed to show you I’m prime husband material?”

“You’re right,” you nodded, grabbing your cup of coffee and taking a sip, “I’ll be sure to pass that on to Vanessa. Then again she doesn’t need any convincing.”

He grimaced at that, “Eat your food. Try the syrup.”

You laughed, but did as he said. A mouthful, you moaned almost instantly. “How the hell did I live so long without this?”

“It’s honest to god the best thing in the world.” 

You smiled and he noticed the small wince that followed. In that second he knew he wouldn’t be able to ever see you hurt again. Who could see your precious face and think about hurting you. As far as he was concerned all you deserved was happiness. 

Next Chapter

[jw231992]

Danganronpa: Despair Time

(ダンガンロンパ:絶望のタイム)

=======================

First of, I just want to say that this is a fanganronpa that I recently found thanks to Moboxer, the head of what is known as Danganronpa: Kill/Cure. I want to do an analysis of that one soon, but this one I figured would be a good start. So, like the series we've come to know and love, Danganronpa: Despair Time is a series where a group of high school students are trapped in a building and must commit a murder to get out of their situation. With the prologue being released just now, we can get a feel for the characters, and maybe some of my predictions will be right? Who knows. Without further ado, let's get into it.

We will start with the main female lead, Teruko Tawaki, the Ultimate Lucky Student. She's seemingly plain, but not Tsumugi Shirogane plain. I really like the hair color she has going on, and I can't accurately tell what color it is, due to me being colorblind, but I believe it's brown going into gray ends. What also sets her apart from previous Danganronpas is that most of the leads are male. Ones like Danganronpa: the After and Danganronpa REbirth both have female leads which I find very refreshing and would like to see the killing game from a female perspective. The thing that also seemed to stick out to me was how she says she was cursed with bad luck, much like Makoto Naegi feels he was in the first game. It also gives me a sense of sadness, much like Qrow Branwen of the RWBY series and his semblance of always bring bad luck to those around him. As of right now, I can't say too much else about her, but as the main character, I feel she would be a survivor. She'll make it to the end and stop the televised killing game (more on this for another character.)

Alexander Matthews, or Xander, is the Ultimate Rebel. He definitely gives of a Kaito Momota vibe from how he confronts those that insult him, but he also has a very friendly demeanor. So because of this, I am giving him the title of Best Boy, because we all need a Best Boy and a Best Girl. According to the series, his talent isn't so much as being a troublemaker, but moreso taking a stand against what he doesn't like and wants to improve for the better. Honestly, maybe Revolutionist or Protestor would have been a better title? Maybe, but Rebel also has a nice flair to it, so we'll go with what the creator intended. His red hair also gives him a fiery feel, which is what I've come to expect from the Best Boys of the games and fangans. The sad part is, I see him dying in the fifth chapter as a culprit. Probably something he didn't even mean to do or something he didn't want to do, a heartbreaking chapter. But the series isn't fully out to the public yet, so we can't say for certain.

Eden Tobisa, the Ultimate Clockmaker. She's adorable, soft, and I just wanna protect this innocent cinnamon bun. That being said, I don't think she is the one that would get the Best Girl status. A lot of her sprites are pretty cutesy, much like a cat, which seems to be a running theme within this fangan. Or I may just dig a little too deep and find stuff that really isn't there. She gives me a big Chihiro Fujisaki vibe, and would love to see this character being explored more. However, it kind of breaks my heart to say she's probably not going to make it, and I believe she would be the Chapter 1 victim. Like I said, she's small and soft, and makes for an easy victim, but I would definitely love seeing an execution if she ends up being the culprit in a case. Probably something sad and gruesome like her being crushed between a few clockwork gears.

So I wanna say this right off the bat, and I'm sure anyone that saw this girl's talent was like, "What the actual hell is a Zither?!" Thank goodness they tell us what it is and I appreciate learning new things. That being said, this is Hu Jing, the Ultimate Zither Player. Her demeanor gives me a slight Kirumi Tojo vibe, especially given the sprite that I took of her. The way she speaks is amazing and I want to see more. I am probably being way too premature about this, but I have wholeheartedly given her the additional title of Best Girl. She may not have a lot to bring to the table as a Zither player but playing instruments takes dedication and I can speak from experience. Not all instruments are easy to play so learning exotic instruments is that much harder. I also say that she's going to be a survivor as well, making it to the end of the killing game but if not, she'll more than likely be a victim.

Here we have J Moreno, the Ultimate Effects Artist, a talent I can also really appreciate. According to the series, J is a nickname but she gets flustered and doesn't exactly say what that nickname is, which may actually come up later during a trial or some form of Free-Time Event. She also seems to prefer quiet people, as opposed to those who seem flashy or boisterous, like the actors she deals with behind the scenes. I use to be a theatre kid (bring on the TikToks) and whenever I could, I would also attempt to learn tech stuff, namely moving set pieces and the sort, so I have a slight personal connection with this talent. She may have a bit of a standoffish attitude but deep down, I feel she has a heart of gold and would definitely help her friends in a time of need. This sort of demeanor would probably give her more of a Kiyotaka Ishimaru vibe, but not in a "Running in the halls is not welcome in a school environment" kinda feel. More towards the personality. However that assistance may go too far and I feel she is more likely to be a culprit in Chapter 2 of the series. Makes me wonder how the execution of an effects artist will go. We'll see if I'm right.

Oh Jesus. This name is gonna be the death of me, but meet Veronika Grebenshchikova, the Ultimate Horror Fanatic. As you can probably tell from the screenshot, she loves everything horror, and I really like the hair ties she has on with the eyes. It makes her stand out, and I feel makes it tie her whole outfit together. The outfit also seems to be giving me Celestia Ludenberg vibes, but at least people aren't asking if she's Japanese. When I first saw her, I thought she would be some form of Optometrist or something but I'm glad she's a horror fanatic. I, too, also happen to like horror pop culture, and I thought it was kind of funny, and slightly suspicious, that she mentioned that they would be trapped in the building and be forced to kill each other. Because of that, it makes me think she knows more than she's letting on, so a possible traitor/mastermind thing going on with her? If not, she's still probably not going to make it and I've labeled her as one of the victims in Chapter 3. But a horror fanatic's execution would definitely be something I'd be interested in, like Emma Magorobi from Super Danganronpa Another 2.

The Ultimate Inspirational Speaker, David Chiem. I'm unsure of how to pronounce his last name, either Hhheee-em or Chai-em. Either way, I feel kind of let down that a speaker that Xander looks up to really hates his talent, or moreso the people that actually listen to him, revealing he's kinda two-faced, being able to talk shit about those that come to his speeches and then nice to their face. It might have been something that developed while doing it, like he was amazing and loved it at first but then later down the road, he started hating it and wanting it to stop. I don't think the two-faced bit will be as extreme as Kokichi Oma or Nagito Komaeda (his facade at the beginning of Super Danganronpa 2 to the end of Chapter 1) but it may come into play during the trials, maybe during his own? Or if he's being framed for a murder? Despite that, I've marked him as a survivor who let's this killing game change him back to OG David where he loved giving speeches and uses the killing game for a new lease on life.

Arturo Giles, the Ultimate Plastic Surgeon. I don't like him. He's a bit of a snob, and to those that he seems ugly aren't worth his time apparently. Which seems odd, given his talent. I mean, he's a plastic surgeon, so of course there will be people looking to fix a few things they don't like about themselves (I'm talking like Nip/Tuck here, people.) He has this utter fetish for celebrities and their beauty however I was watching a thing way back when, I dunno what it was, but it says the ones that have the most plain faces and such tend to be more beautiful to humans. Or something along those lines, but I'm thinking his mask is hiding something he doesn't like about himself. It makes me kinda sad because precious girl, Seiko Kimura, wore a mask and she was so upfront about everything, so maybe there is a hidden redemption arc just waiting to come out. Watch it be something like ugly teeth or some scar he doesn't want people seeing. Enough about this guy though, as I have labeled him a victim, specifically Chapter 5. Remember how I mentioned that Xander would probably end up being a culprit? Well, I think it'll end up being something that he didn't mean to or want to do, despite not really getting along with Arturo. But if he isn't a victim, he might be a survivor.

Daddy. Haha, I'm kidding, this is Levi Fontana, the Ultimate Personal Stylist. He gives off the "intimidating but innocent cinnamon bun" vibe that Gonta Gokuhara gives off, and even mentions his past during the introduction. Something I wish to see come into play during a trial. Now, a theme I seem to run across is the big person, who is amazing usually dies in Chapter 4, and I hate to say this might also be the case. His past may not have something to do with the trial, but if it does, he would be a culprit. I hope not though because I would love to see the intimidating guy live to the end.

Okay, this guy is also an asshole, and I wanna say it's probably because he's short. Kinda like Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu. Ace Markey, the Ultimate Jockey. Despite how he's short like Fuyuhiko, he isn't as willing to go to that point, as he's kind of a wimp. This kind of demeanor makes him less likely to have friends, but I'm interested to see how he got to this point. Probably some form of bullying while he's on his horse, to be honest. Like maybe having issues getting on and the other jockeys laughing at him, but maybe his coach, or mentor giving him this disapproving face when he tries to start something. That's how I see it anyway, but he is probably the Chapter 1 culprit. His execution might be something along the lines of being tied to a fence where horses have to jump over him and he gets hit in the head with horse feet and horseshoes. Then as the fence falls over, he gets trampled on, leaving a bloody mess. I wouldn't be too sad about this character but we'll see as time goes on.

===============================

I would love to continue on but apparently there's a 10 photo per post limit. I will be posting the second part shortly.

[jjmaybankx]

congrats on 200!! tell us the story of all of your crushes (((;

OOOOPPPP ANON THIS ONE... THIS ONEEE okaaay y’all in for a RIDE. imma give them all codenames so it’s easier to talk about them HEHE. i’ve talked about a few of them HERE so they’re gonna have their same codenames

DAN. dan was a boy in my kindergarten class that was just adorable, other little girls had crushes on him. he was just that kid. but he was also really modest and didn’t realize people liked him like that. he gave me naruto stickers when we were in the first grade because he knew i liked naruto, which was a big deal to me just because most kids when we were little thought it was weird i liked anime. he also taught me how to properly throw a football. our moms worked together at one point and now his mom is also my dentist, she used to ask me for updates on him when we were little. we were both at our moms’ work after school once and since both of our moms were still working, my dad drove us home. this crush lasted from kindergarten to like the second grade, and then when seventh grade rolled around we were really good friends. he used to sing 5sos in class when we were doing our assignments because he knew i liked them, but we drifted after seventh because we had no classes together.

SCOTT. scott was a boy i liked on and off from the sixth grade to freshman year of high school. he was also that kid. but he was new our fifth grade year, but i had known him for years because we took kickboxing classes together. so, i was basically his first friend. everyone fell for him while i was just like “huh” but then i was like “...oh fuck” then i liked him on and off through middle school, and i had told him because i really don’t care whether people know i like them or not. he ended up moving high school because he went to a private, but he came back the end of our sophomore year. it was a huge deal to everyone that he was coming “back home” and i remember seeing him and calling out his name because i didn’t believe it when people said he was back. it was that surreal, my heart is pounding moment. we had math together for the last few months. my friend was crying outside our class one morning when he walks up and is like “good morning ladies” and hugs us and then reads the room and is like “... you two okay?” we haven’t really talked since, we don’t have the same friend group like we used to.

KENNY. kenny was a boy that i liked when i was liking scott on and off. it was sixth grade, we both liked each other, but i was well aware sixth grade is not the age where i should be dating, so i didn’t let it go further than us liking each other. he didn’t let any of our friends know he liked me back, but everyone knew either way because we were always together and practically best friends. we had this routine where every day after school i’d ask him how he is, and he’d ask me how my day was, and then we’d talk until our parents told us to get off the phone. simple, school girl crush. i ended up “getting bored” and “tired” of the fact he wouldn’t admit to his friends he liked me, but in reality i just thought scott was cuter. sorry kenny!

CAM. cam and i were a messsss, seventh to eighth grade, during my on and off liking of scott. he and i had bumped into each other and i thought he was cute, so i called him cute boy. we then met at a school dance when one of my friends told him i thought he was cute, and all of his friends asked me to hang out with them for the rest of the dance. when a boy made my friend cry at the end i had gotten up and said i had smt to take care of, and one of his friends was like “she’s fiesty, i like her” he had some mental health issues that ended up becoming my issues and then it all just went from cute to toxic. he was a closeted gay, but now he’s not in the closet and we’re friends, mutually deciding to forget about middle school. but we ended up talking again this year since we had a class together, he still has photos of us from the summer before freshman year and texted me them cuz he found them in his room. 

PETER. man oh man, i’ve talked about peter before. he’s my guy best friend. he and i had met our freshman year of high school in french class, and we had sat in front of each other. the teacher mispronounced my name and i frowned and he was like, “oh... you look so sad” and then proceeded to mispronounce my name himself. apparently, the people who sat at the table with us thought we were dating, even though that was the first time we had met. apparently, a lot of ppl in that class thought we were dating because one of the girls in my pe class asked me if he and i were fighting because her friend in my class noticed that, even though we sit next to each other, we hadn’t been talking and she had thought we broke up. and i was just like “...we’re not even dating...” and apparently her friend was like “...no... pretty sure they are.” LOL. we were fourteen and dumb, and this was my first time catching real feelings. and since it was high school, everything was dramatized and over exaggerated, i was annoying asf, he was immature asf. we didn’t talk for a few months, but eventually, everything calmed down and we became best friends. we facetime a lot, we’re each other’s 4a.m “hey are you awake” text. our families became friends, his mom loves me like her own. his friends, my friends, my family are always like “will that be a thing” and i’m always thinking it in the back of my head, but we’ve got a really good friendship going on. i secretly tell people that if we’re not married by 28 then i’m making him marry me LMAOO. i truly do hope that the person i end up with isn’t him just because i like having his as my best friend.

JOSH. this one broke me. josh was my best friend my sophomore and part of my junior year. we had a lot of mutual friends, including peter. but, when we started to become friends, right off the bat it was a toxic environment. his two best friends hating each other and he was also hanging out with my ex-best friend, who his best friend also hated. so... long story short, one of his best friends, my ex-bestfriend, me, and him all would hang out, pretending everything was fine between us. then, his best friend and my ex-best friend would fight over a fucking boy, and so he and i would kinda go off on our own. he was just always being pulled in three directions. but he lied to me the entire one year and a half duration of our friendship. we had a summer fling the summer before our junior year, and he had lied to be about his own experiences and who he was talking to. we weren’t dating or exclusive, but the fact that he had said he had no prior experiences, i felt lied to and betrayed, because it was all under false pretenses. he treated me like shit basically, and i just kept justifying it saying that i loved him so it was fine. it was def a give-take friendship, and i would just constantly provide support, literal food, literal material things, and he couldn’t even give me emotional support back. i kept trying to justify that i wouldn’t stay in this situation if i didn’t love him, but it was really just manipulation. i always had considered him my “first real love” but after finding out he had been lying for so long, i realized i didn’t love him because i didn’t even really know him, yanno? i wrote a book that was loosely based off of him, so that was what was good out of it. i came out a strong person, and honestly? i would do it all over again if it meant i would feel as strong and as good of a person as i did right now.

WREN. i work with him, one of my absolute besties. i thought he was cute for a while... and then... well, read the next person BAHA.

ALEC. Alec was a college boy who worked with my dad, our siblings also worked there together. when is started working there my sophomore year, i had met his brother first, aka Wren, we became quick friends, and i had thought he was cute. eventually, though, i had met alec. he was the mysterious one of the two, the quiet guy. we only really ever saw each other in passing, and eventually, he became a team lead. i remember the first times working with him and getting confused because he always giggled around me or my friends would say he was looking for me, but he’d never actually talk to me. so, last summer we ended up working together a lot as i got transferred onto his team, and we instantly just had a good bond. everyone, his boss, our coworkers, his brother, my dad, were just like “…soo… y’all gonna… address this�� chemistry or??” we just clicked. from the music we listened to (one time he passed me and we were listening to the exact same song) to our hobbies in high school, we both took the same electives and had the same passions. he’d take me to and from work whenever i had to walk, once sent a whole team member to pick me up at 6am cuz he didn’t want me walking in the dark. he was even my escort for my debut. i feel like this one could be considered me being “in love” just because i truly cared about him and he truly cared about me, but i think it might’ve been right people wrong time perhaps? he had just met someone right before i told him how i felt about him, and our chemistry was just natural, everyone could see it. we had an “age gap” considering i’m graduating and he’s in college, but to us, we were always just both two young adults, yanno? so maybe some day he and i could revisit and actually be in love, i dunno.

and that’s all my crushes in my past 18 years and 6 months of life!

[tgai-spock]

A sharp intake

Chapter 9

It smelt like swimming pools, packed and empty at the time, the air conditioning the was the only thing keeping things together. Spock stood beside the captains chair, unbeknown to him much like his older self did.

“Are you just….gazing at the stars?” Jim asks his chin resting on his hand as he stared intensely at him, like a fool might stare at a kitten.

“What else would I do?” Spock asked.

“Oh I don’t know” he said, deciding that this was what Spock did most of the time. He always thought he was thinking, doing some math or some science - but maybe not, maybe he really was just staring out the window. Chekov looked over the back of his shoulder and scratched his head, a paranoid itch going down his arm.

“Don’t you have hobbies? Something you can be doing? Reading maybe?” Chekov suggested. 

“I’ve tried to read.” Spock said.

“What do you read, history?” Uhura asked.

“Terran classics, ‘Lord of the rings’, ;Alice in wonderland’ ’50 shades of grey’ ‘Jurassic park’. Although I was somewhat prompted to read jurassic park…”

“I’ve got a few classics you might like” Kirk suggested.

“No thanks. Everytime I open a book and begin reading them I remember I’ve already read them.” Spock said.

“Oh. So what are you going to do with your time then?”

Spock shrugged “I dunno.”

Kirk grinned his cheeks raising to his eyes “well I’m sure we’ll find something for you. It won’t do to have you stand here all the time, though I don’t mind, I think Chekov does.”

“Sir, please” Chekov said turning in his chair “I am just nervous, when Spock is older he will recount Thursday, and he will say chekov, you hit the button to slowly, chekov you tapped your foot too much, Chekov you’ve were navigating us in the wrong direction and corrected without telling anyone in hope no one would notice, chekov your uniform is crinkled when you sit on it.”

“Hmm” Captain Kirk nodded “Sulu are we on the right course?”

“Errrr” Sulu said, his eyes spinning from the Chekov to the Captain, he hits a few buttons on the console “of course, Sir.”

“You two aren’t filling me with confidence today.”

“It is like examiners day, I will loose points because I sweat” Chekov said.

“Hmmm” Kirk said. 

“I could give you some books to read. They wouldn’t be classics, but they would be written in this decade. It’s logical to read them because you can see how modern humans talk and interact with eachother, and compare the changing of the genres.”

“I suppose” Spock nodded.

“Or you could just read them because they’re fun” Chekov said.

“No. I need a purpose to read them.” Spock said firmly

“Oh? And what purpose did you have to read lord of the rings?” Kirk asked.

“History.” Spock said. Sulu glanced back to Spock and then to Chekov.

“That was my favourite time in history” Sulu said.

“Yes I was fond of the orcs” Chekov said.

“I feel like a hobbit myself.” Sulu said.

“It’s a shame they went extinct.” Chekov said and Sulu giggled.

“Mr Spock, perhaps you are related to Legolass.” Chekov suggested.

“Captain. These men are idiots. This is a new level of illogic I have not seen before, and I find myself unsure whether this ship will survive for twenty eight days in space.”

“Spock, don’t be mean, not everyone knows their books as well as me, or you apparently, nerd.” Kirk said light heartedly.

“What?” Spock asked sharply.

“Would you like to educate Sulu and Checkov on why ‘Lord Of The Rings’ is historic?” Kirk suggested.

“Lord Of The Rings is symbolism for the second world war.” Spock said.

“Oh” Sulu rolled his eyes “good guys vs bad guys, I guess I should have seen that coming “isn’t… that every war to someone?”

“I love reading for symbolism.” Chekov joked.

“I do read symbolism in books” Kirk said offended “thats enough talking I’m sure you should be paying more attention to the ship.”

Chekov gave a hearty chuckle “of course Sir.”

Kirk spoke to Spock quietly after that. Quiet whispers about ‘Lord Of The Rings’ and favourite characters. 

“Captain” Officer Finnegan said approaching him from the lift with a paid “is it wise to have Commander Spock? He is a child.”

“He’s not working as the Commander right now” Kirk said with a smile.

“I don’t think the bridge is the safest place for a vulcan.” Finnegan said his eyes glancing over the tiny vulcan.

“Finnegan” Kirk said sitting up “it’s a quiet day, it is perfectly safe for him to be here.”

“I don’t think it is-”

“I will leave then.” Spock said taking a step back from the captain.

“Spock you don’t need to do that.” Kirk said “Finnegan who the fuck even are you? God this writers so lazy summoning up villains just to move the plot on, and make you say oof.”

“It’s fine. I’m well adapted to telling when I’m not wanted, I’m sure I can find something else to do.” Spock said and turned on his foot, walking past Finnegan with a breeze that even with his small height seemed intimidating.

“Spock come back. Come on” Kirk called.

“No” Spock said almost huffed as he entered the lift.

Spock was an adventurer. In the days before he’d go to the mountains, to walk deep into the desert finding what he could to survive with I-Chaya in tow. Today he wandered the halls of a starship. He started where he would always begin, at the bottom of the mountain. So the lift took him to the bottom of the ship.

He snuck out the lift into a hallway of pipes, where his ears stung from loud shouting humans. No one noticed him as he stayed close the side of the walls. The crew in engineering was different from anywhere else on the ship. Hands on and intelligent thinkers, tinkers and inventors, it was officially professional work, but the lack of professionalism they had would not be seen nor put up with else where on the ship.

Knowing that if he were spotted he would be made to leave, Spock ran and crouched, hiding behind pipes and boxes. Some meters from him Spock spotted a group of humans leaning over an upside down box that they were using like a table. They were smoking, and fans drifted the fumes away from themselves. A red shirt leant with cigarette in hand as he looked bright eyed at the other four around him.

“So I said to him, maybe if you had the surgery on your eyes and not you dick, we wouldn’t even be having this problem.”

His sentence ended with hearty laughter from the others, the sense of the joke, the story, a glimpse of documentation escaping the sense of Spock. 

There were boxes piled high in the corner of the room. There were boxes piled high in most places, but the pile in the corner caught Spock’s eyes. The boxes left little more than a meter between themselves and the roof, but on the roof, was a vent. Perfect to climb into. Dangerous to climb into. The perfect challenge. So Spock ducked and rolled to the boxes, and began his climb. He did it slowly and he did it carefully but that wasn’t the hard part. Spock laid flat on the top of the boxes, he had perfect sight over the people. Groups and couples that walked, carrying tools and scanners, tapping at pipes and - Spock squinted. One man was placing duct tape around a leaking water pipe. Spock sighed shaking his head. He should probably mention how bad that is - when he’s older. That can’t be proper procedure. When he was certain no one was looking Spock began to undo the screw’s from the vent by twisting them with his hand. When all the screws were undone he carefully and quietly pulled down the vent grid and put it on top of the boxes. He climbed into the vent.

No matter how quietly Spock tried to crawl he was sure he was making a racket. He was sure every time he moved his arm forwards the metal clinked and banged. He was sure a knee forwards sent a shuddering though the whole of the ship. After spending ten minutes slowly climbing forwards Spock rolled on to his back and rubbed at his head. He was sure when he came out where-ever that be, there would be a group of people waiting to question him. To ask him what he thought he was doing. Why he had opened the vent. What the purpose of doing so was. This was why Spock had stopped. What was his explanation? He had not words he could say to those people. To the Captain, to McCoy. After a while, Spock rolled back around and made his way forth deciding to keep a vow of silence when they found him, because they would. He was certain.

The vent ended at a grid looking in to a dark room. It wasn’t fully dark, there were large windows that looked out in to space, and space lit his way. It took a while for Spock to realise why he couldn’t see anything in the room. There was nothing in the room. Spock slipped his fingers through the holes of the vent to unscrew it. But his fingers, from this side, weren’t long enough. He was stuck. He took a deep breath, and carefully turned himself around. Laying on his back with his feet facing the vent he gave it a few solid kicks. At the fifth kick the vent flew off the wall. Spock escaped. Walking over to the vent Spock picked it up. The screws were still firmly attached to the vent as was a small portion of the wall around the screws. Sighing Spock stood on the middle of the vent attempting to straighten out the mess he had made. The vent actually straightened enough to be passable so he carefully balanced it back on the wall. He took a few steps back examining the vent carefully. No one should notice unless they got close.

The room he had discovered was dark, and empty. It was some sort of unused, perhaps even forgotten observation deck. Could things be forgotten on a spaceship? The door showed the most sign of life, and that door had spider cobwebs across it. How? They must have sneaked on by sitting on someones shoulder. There was also a bench against it and some other planks of wood. The entire place was empty. There were other vents but they didn’t really take Spock’s attention. Spock walked up to the window and sat staring cross legged out across the stars. He wasn’t sure what he would be doing for the next few days, but at least he had found this. He laid down on his side, one elbow beneath his head. It wasn’t quiet, wherever he was, he was too close to the engine room still. But it wasn’t a horrible racket he could hear, it was just a gentle purr.

Spock woke some time later, and he turned over on his other side as he watched the door shake. A crowbar shot through the centre of the door. Spock sat crossed legged silently watching the feat as fingers slipped between the door pulling it opened. There stood the Captain, McCoy, Finnegan and Uhura.

“Spock!” McCoy was the first to push himself through he door “what are you doing here?”

He ran forth, making Spock flinch slightly as he ran a scanner over Spock. Spock looked carefully at McCoy wondering if he should keep his vow of silence as the Captain rushed over.

“Is he okay?” Kirk asked crouching.

“According to this he is perfectly fine.” McCoy said standing up.

“Spock, what are you doing here?” Uhura asked concernedly.

“I didn’t even know this room existed. On my ship as well.” Kirk said looking around the room.

“Was it because of Finnegan?” Uhura whispered.

“Yeah Spock” Finnegan said in a carefree attitude “I’m sorry if like I upset.”

“I’m vulcan. You did not upset me.” Spock said standing up, as he decided he didn’t like the attention he was getting. He literally hadn’t spared a second thought to Finnegan.

“Wait, Spock where do you think you’re going?” Uhura asked “you can’t just go off by yourself.”

“Spock, I thought you had gone back to McCoy, do you realise what the ships been like since we discovered you missing? This past hour has been chaos looking for you.” Kirk said. Spock looked at the people surrounding him. His way was thoroughly blocked. The vent Spock had propped up fell on to the floor with a bang, cascading dust surrounded it as the humans jumped to look at it. They turned back to Spock, looking for an explanation as he finished a yawn.

“Oops?”

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]        [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]        [Chapter 5]

[Chapter 6]     [Chapter 7]       [Chapter 8]   [chapter 9]   [Chapter 10]

[Chapter 12]

----

Yeah I did just rewrite chapter 9 again, but consider this, now, it is better. Huh? Huh??

[wincestisasincest]

2000 Man (A beatle!reader story) - Part 1: Madam Beatle

Hello friends! Yes I absolutely am starting a new series when I haven’t finished another one. I was just so intrigued by the idea of a beatle!reader that I had to start something. 

Credit to @casafrass for literally all the ideas and a few of the headcanons, I’ll name which ones I’m using for each part of the story.

Anyway, the story is framed through an interview that our dear reader is having in the year 2000 as she tries to promote her new book, Madam Beatle, which chronicles the story of her life. Expect a lot of flashbacks, and a lot of angst as the stories goes on. Kinda inspired by Slumdog Millionaire. I don’t know how long this is gonna be yet, but expect a L O T. 

Anyway, let’s start, and get ready for more.

Description: It’s the year 2000, and y/n, the fifth member of the Beatles, is advertising her new book, Madam Beatle, in her first interview of the year. We see snapshots of her life, from when she joined the band, to the trials and tribulations, to the death of the band, and everything in between. Loosely inspired by Slumdog Millionaire. 

Part: 1, 2

Headcanons: How the fans would react, how the press would react/how defensive the boys are 

Words: 1,967

Pairings: None, at the moment, just general fluff and friendship 

Warnings: Rude people and language

“Welcome back to the show, y/n. I hate to be the one to say it, but I haven’t seen you since the last millennium.” 

“Thanks for having me, Harold, though I honestly didn’t think I would live to see the next one.”

“Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we’re glad you did. How else would we get to see the release of, what was it, Madam Beatle?” 

“Yup, that it was.” 

“Now, I mean this as so insult to your creativity, but I understand that this title isn’t your own thinking, is it?”

“Well, no, it was actually one of the many titles that the press had given me back in our early days. The first article that I read that was specifically about me, was, in fact, titled, ‘Madam Beatle, Yay or Nay?’. It was in a section of a teen magazine, I don’t even remember the name at this point, but it was where the magazine would pose a question in the previous issue, and fans would send letters with their responses. It was usually some sort of yes or no question. I’m afraid I don’t recall the whole thing, but I did save that page of the magazine, and I had it printed in full in the book.”

“Was this article particularly significant to you.” 

“I’d like to think so. I remember reading it and thinking to myself, ‘Wow, this many people I don’t know have strong opinions about me.’ It sounds a little weird saying it out loud, but it was just such a strange concept to me, and was almost completely foreign at the time, though I grew used to it.”

Your hands sealed the envelope closed as you slammed it on top of your growing pile. You felt a little bad not putting the return address on the front of the letters. Of course, you knew full-well that that was Freda’s job, but there was simply so many. She would have to dedicate an hour, at least. 

This response had been something special. Greta, a seven year old from Idaho, had sent you a drawing of herself and you, and you wanted to respond with something equally as awesome, so you sent her a drawing of yourself and her à la colored pencils instead of crayons. Something about children always brought out your soft side, even if it took an extra 10 minutes to answer. 

You tore open the next letter without even checking the front. The address wasn’t really important, it was the name inside. Out fell a small sheet of paper and a crumpled page of a magazine. 

The paper was about the size of a post-it note, with words scrawled on it in thick, black pen: “I’m not the only one who thinks you’re a whore.” 

Shaking, you picked up the crumpled magazine page. You couldn’t figure which magazine it was, but you recognized the format of the column. A point-counterpoint type column, with the page split in half, headed either ‘Yay’ or ‘Nay’, and a collection of responses on either side. Or, they’re should’ve been, as the heading under ‘Yay’ was completely scribbled out by the black marker, leaving only the ‘Nay’ section visible. 

The title of the article was ‘Madam Beatle, Yay or Nay?’, and under the title, in confident, showy lettering, was the question: ‘What do you think of y/n of the Beatles?’

You turned the page over and refused to read it. You knew what this was. You had heard of it. And you had also heard that the best way to deal with hate-mail was to not give into it. To not answer. But you weren’t very good at avoiding temptation. 

There was a knock at the door. You peered through the fish-eye. Yup, it was the four lads, who had almost certainly all lost the room key. You pulled the door open slightly, only to have it stopped by the door chain. 

“Y/n, love, you’re supposed to open the door the whole way.” You didn’t even have to look up to know that it was Lennon, dripping with sarcasm as usual.

“I dunno if I should. I was told by our very esteemed manager Brian that I should keep all riff-raff out of the hotel room.” You began rolling your rs in the way that posh people do.

“Then what are you doin’ in there?” Ringo joined the arena.

“I’m a beacon of morality.” You giggled as you unlocked the door. 

The four blew in past you, moving to all corners of the room, and stretching out on whatever chair or sofa they could find. 

“Was it worth it?” You blew some hair out of your face.

“Nah, he wasn’t home.” George crossed his legs on the coffee table while sitting on the sofa. 

“Too famous for you, I guess.” You crossed your arms and took in the room of disappointed faces. If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t like to say ‘I told you so.’ But, you really did tell them so.

“Ah, just you wait. One day, we’ll be rejecting Elvis when he tries to come over.” John was scrounging through the kitchenette looking for snacks to fuel his sarcasm. 

“Y/n, what’s this?” Paul, who hadn’t spoken yet, was hunched over the table with your fan mail sprawled out on it.

“Jus’ some fan mail that I was getting done, you know, being productive, while I was waiting for you four to get rejected.” You were silently praying that he wouldn’t notice that one shred of hate mail that you had. Of course, it had to be the hate mail that he noticed and not the thousands and thousands of wonderful letters that you had received. If anyone would make a big deal, it would be Paul. 

“No, no, I mean this letter, if that’s what you can call it.” Paul, don’t you do it.

“What does it say?” Ringo called over everyone’s head. 

“I don’t wanna say it out loud, but-” 

“Paul, it’s fine, there’s no fans around.” You just wanted to get this whole thing over. 

“What does it say?” John was looking over Paul’s shoulder at your table. 

“Guys, it’s fine, I don’t ca-” 

“Someone sent y/n hate mail.” 

“What? What does it say?” Ringo and George both went over to join the group, hovering over what you had just opened. 

“Yeah, but it’s like, not a big deal,” you walked back over to join them, “I got all these nice letters from other people, if one person is angry, I don’t really mind.” You patted the top of your stack of letters as there was a small silence. 

“Good girl, y/n,” John strolled to your side and put his arm around you, “Lads, this is the grit that we’re gonna need to have if we’re gonna make it past this milestone.” 

“What the hell are you on about, John?” Paul had finally given up his fascination with the hate mail.

“We’ve got our first hate mail. We’ve officially made it.” You joined a chorus of sighs, but John only chuckled. 

“In fact, I think this calls for a celebration,” he pulled away from you, “Pour the champagne!” He whipped a bottle of champagne out of one of the cabinets and swiped give champagne glasses from the shelf. John and properly confronting the situation was often not a good pairing. 

“Where the hell did that come from?” George chided, though it was through a smile.

“What does it matter? We’re fucking famous!” The champagne was overflowing in the glass that he shoved into your hand. You felt a smile creeping up your face. You couldn’t tell if he was just trying to ignore the situation, or if he was genuinely happy, and frankly, you didn’t care. 

“To hate mail!” The five of you clinked your glasses, somewhat unexpectedly, but no one was gonna turn away a champagne celebration. You took a long sip. He was right. This was just another lesson to add to your collection of things that you had to deal with in the public conscience. First, it was the press, and now, it was some very pissed off fans. Only a little longer until you learned not to care about breathing. 

The next few hours were a blur. Champagne had taken the place of the brandy that you took before shows to ease your nerves, though you obviously weren’t thinking about it at the time, and thus, were slightly more tired and drunk than usual.

Still, the show went fine. You honestly could’ve stood there for an hour and those fans would’ve screamed their heads off anyway. And life was good. 

You stepped into the car that would take you back to the hotel, your feat aching, as they always did, and your eyelids begging to shut. The car lurched forwards. 

“Y/n, I found this for you.” Ringo sat across from you and handed you what looked like a magazine, with his thumb marking one of the pages. You and him had stepped into the car earlier than the rest, as the group always took different routes in order to ease the escape from fans. 

“Thanks, Rings.” You flipped it open, and your eyes recognized the page that you’d landed on. It was the same article from earlier, except that the ‘Yay’ column was no longer blacked out. You smiled. 

“Aww, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know, I know, but I wanted to make sure that you have the, the good opinions with the bad, and all that.” 

“Another successful night, lads, and now, to the bar!” John hopped into the car, a tidal wave of fans following close behind. Paul and George then slinked in and the door was slammed shut behind them. 

“What’s that you’ve got there, y/n?” Paul squeezed himself next to me. 

“Ringo found me the same magazine from earlier. Wanted me to see all the  ‘good opinions’.” 

“Awww, Rings! Looking out for our y/n like that.” John ruffled his hair as he shoved himself into the seat next to him.

“I never knew how nasty girls can be towards girls. I always thought it was just the press.” George added his pensive two cents while looking out the window. 

“Hey, hey, it’s the fans, not girls in general. And I’ll have you know, I got several adoring letters from both our male and female fans.” You leaned back in your seat. 

“We have male fans?” Paul laughed. John snorted.

“But seriously, y/n, they don’t mean shit, those girls. We don’t like ‘em either.” John was bad at emotions, you knew this, but his words were some odd comfort. 

“Wow, very nice, you could’ve said that without a bottle of champagne, y’know.” Brian jammed himself in the car next to John and Ringo.

“Here comes the killjoy.” Paul muttered under his breath.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that drunken stumble tonight, Lennon. And don’t think that the audience didn’t notice, either. Very unprofessional.” 

“The only professional here is the driver, Brian, and even he’s speeding a little.” What a comedy duo. The rest of the car cracked up with laughter. 

“Do watch that, Lennon. The rest of you, a little better, but do try to stick to brandy next time.” He took out one of his finer cigars. 

“Tonight we’re sticking to more than brandy.” You added, and the group let out whoops of joy.

“Cheers, love.” Paul gave you a light shove.

Brian’s attempts to control the group were futile. The driver fulfilled his purpose and flipped off someone while slamming on the gas to pull into the lane. You and your best friends sped into the night, leaving all your inhibitions far behind. 

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: f--k you and the horse you rode in on; adam page [m]

Notes:

originally sent to me by @vonschweetz​ on snarkandsarcasmwrites which I’m turning into my main now, i chose to post this here on it’s own little post. This is my Ivy and Adam universe, but it’s the What If’s version, not to be confused with the Wild Side version. Yes, they are different. whew- that was a mouthful.

Summary:

Ivy and Adam run into each other again after years of being apart. There’s hurt there. Will they work through their pain or make things messier by having a one night stand and going their separate ways all over again? Alternate chapter / universe /ending to What If’s.

Warning:

FEELTH. unprotected sex, strip club vip room mention, body fluids, exotic dancer OFC. Alcohol tw.

Pairing:

Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Ivy Barlow.

“Hey, how much you think it’ll cost to hire one of the girls to come n’ dance for me for the night?” Adam’s tone was smooth as the whiskey he was pouring into his glass as he asked the club manager.

He felt so sleazy doing it because he never did it, but tonight was a really, really bad night. When he was lonely and just… Craving intimacy. Craving her, the one that got away all those years ago. The need to feel less alone outweighed the sleazy thing he was doing. He tried to justify his trip to this seedy  little club on the Strip as him paying someone who might actually need the money versus just settling for some buckle bunny and having to deal with the fallout later. Either way, he found himself thinking as he solemnly slammed back the fifth of whiskey, it’s still sleazy and it ain’t you.

But bein alone tonight is somethin I don’t wanna do. I can’t do it. I know where my mind’s gonna go. It’s gonna go to Ivy n’ the way things played out. I’m gonna wind up exhausting all the what could’ve beens and what if’s and maybe’s until it drives me insane…

As he weighed his decision against the way it made him feel sleazy, blue eyes lazily roamed the dimly lit strip club and when he saw her -the exact reason he’d been driven to seek out the comfort of a stranger tonight, his entire body tensed and he coughed. His eyes locked on her, watching the way she grinded and wrapped herself around that silver pole. A shiver passed through him that went straight to his cock and settled, making it stand at attention and push firmly against the zip of his jeans. The manager noticed his intent stare and chuckled. “Oh, she’s gonna cost ya, cowboy. She’s gonna cost ya real good. That’s one of the best girls I got, man. And she just recently started workin as one of my girls upstairs in VIP too… So yer in luck. If you got the cash and she agrees to a few hours with ya, of course.”

“Is she… Is she available? You think she’d agree, I mean?” Adam was in disbelief at the fact that he’d even asked that. And in disbelief that the girl he loved years ago was working in a place like this as a dancer.

His eyes shifted from the manager to the way she peeled off a pair of painted on leather chaps, tossing them to the side. It left her in a pair of skimpy high cut black leather Brazillian cut panties. He shifted in his seat as he felt his hardened member twitch and strain even harder against the heavy dark denim covering it. He wished he’d gone for wearing underwear, but wearing them all night during the rodeo earlier left him chafed enough.

The club owner eyed the pile of winnings in his hand and chuckled, giving a half-assed shrug. “Dunno, Hangman. Why don’t you walk over n’ ask her, hmm?” was asked as the man nodded in her direction.

Her dance had just ended, she was leaving the center stage, slinking towards where Adam sat talking to the club owner. At first, she didn’t bother looking at him, instead she addressed the club owner.

“Got anything for me tonight, Slade?”

“Got ya a cowboy, Ivy.” Slade chuckled and gave a nod to Adam who stood nearby, lingering with his eyes darting all over the place. Slade could tell the guy wasn’t used to doing this, it almost made him want to laugh. But sooner or later, all of the cowboys and wannabe rockstars that came out to Vegas wound up at one of these establishments.

Ivy gave a soft laugh. “They all think they’re cowboys or rockstars out here, Slade. Cash up front, right? And the usual, a few private dances, the VIP treatment.”

Adam couldn’t stop staring at her. As a result, he wound up overpouring the whiskey and it wound up soaking through his jeans. He coughed to sort of get her attention and the second her eyes locked on him she blinked.

Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard, raising a hand to drag it through her hair. She hadn’t said anything. As soon as Adam said her name, she eyed him and all those emotions in her eyes just seconds before vanished. She’d always been good at shutting down. Apparently, she’d just gotten better at it.

“Well if it ain’t West Virginia’s favorite cowboy… what brings you out to Vegas, hmm?” Ivy kept her best neutral tone as she said it, keeping her distance from Adam. She hadn’t back then and she’d wound up falling too hard. She still hadn’t gotten over him, even now, years later.

Adam swallowed hard and he took a deep breath. “Rodeo’s in town. I thought you were out in Florida. Heard you married yourself some soap opera guy.”

“Annulled, actually.” Ivy shifted her feet and nudged the club owner, getting him off to the side. “I can’t do this, Slade. Not with him. You’re the one who makes the rules here, Slade, not me.. No personal ties. Hands off and all that, remember?”

“He’s the only taker you got tonight, Ivy. And poor idiot literally just gave me his entire nights winnings. This could be good for the club and you, lil bit. It’s your call this time. You’re one of my best girls, I trust ya.” Slade gave her a wink and Ivy blew at her bangs, thinking it over. Slade did have a point.

“Yeah, well..” Ivy trailed off as she remembered the debt on her grandparent’s ranch and the cost of hiring hands to pitch in when needed. She found herself thinking about her own potential business venture she was saving up for, re-opening her grandmother’s diner in town, and she found herself thinking about her savings. She sighed and swore to herself under her breath, dragging long and delicate fingers through light caramel colored locks. “Fine. I’ll do it. But he better have money because I’m charging double. If he’s such hot shit on the pro circuit right now, why the hell wouldn’t he just pick up a fuckin bunny at the show?”

Adam overheard most of the conversation and spoke up. “Didn’t wanna.” he barely met Ivy’s gaze and when he did manage to meet it, Ivy found herself cringing at the icy look in his eyes. Adam’s jaw tightened and he started to protest, but when he tried, no words would come.

“But you’re here… at a club paying enough cash for an all night private session upstairs…” Ivy’s brow quirked and she eyed him while smirking. “Either way, stud. you’re on the clock. Let’s just get this over with.” no matter how hard she tried to keep up that all business facade, she was starting to feel it crack. She was starting to feel fidgety under his intent -and cold, stare and she found herself jittery. She knew he was standing there, most likely judging her. He was the one who hadn’t tried to respond to her whenever she did try to reach out. He was the one who never came for her, despite his promise that he’d never let anything happen to tear them apart. He was the one who went off and got all famous from the looks of it.

“It’s nice to see you again too, Ivy Jane.” Adam snapped as calmly as possible as he tore his eyes off of her and stared down at his mud covered Ariats.

“I never said it was nice to see you the first time, Mr. Page.” Ivy responded in a chilled tone as she turned on her heels and started to slink towards the back of the club, to the stairs that lead up to a second floor of the place. A place where few ever got access to.

Adam stopped her halfway up the stairs. “You got no right t’ be angry at me, Ivy Jane. You’re the one who left.” he practically growled the words as he gripped her wrist, staring up at her. Right now he was hurt and confused and so fucking bitter. Everything conspired against them, it always had from the beginning. Their families hadn’t gotten along and constantly butted in and kept them apart mostly, but what was really making him angry was that standing here in the stairwell now, with her right in front of him, was that he was clearly seeing that they’d both had chances. And neither of them had tried or fought, they’d both been too scared to just cut off their families and rely on each other. … we were kids then, though… Adam tried to remind himself, neither of us felt like we had a choice…  And not only that, he could just look at her and tell that somehow, she was hurting and angry and bitter too. And probably full of blame. He had to admit, he was full of it himself because she’d basically disappeared and not once did she try to reach out, not once did she try to contact him and at least give him closure.

“I didn’t have a fucking choice, Adam.” Ivy didn’t mean to say it like she did, she hadn’t meant that little bit of hurt and longing to creep into her voice. She sighed and shook her head. Adam’s shoulders slumped and he muttered an apology. But then the mild anger he felt at finding her again, here of all places, that kicked in and he grabbed hold of her waist, turning her to face him when she faced away and started to walk up the remainder of the stairs.

“The hell are you doin’, anyway? This ain’t you, Ivy Jane. This… This ain’t th’ girl I love.”

“Yeah, well… Shit happens, Adam. I think you meant loved, by the way, because you certainly seem to be acting as if I’m dirt beneath your feet now.” Ivy shrugged it off, trying to make herself forget the way his hands felt all over her or the way it felt to hear his voice again after all this time. Trying to convince herself that he had every chance to come out to Florida and find her after high school and when he didn’t and he chose to go on the rodeo circuit instead, that was her answer as to what he really felt.

“I’m not actin like that, Ivy Jane…But this? This is.. What do you get from it, huh? Because I’m failin to understand it.” Adam ground out through a clenched jaw as he glared down at Ivy.

Ivy glared right back  up at him, shaking her head and giving a bitter laugh. “I tried writing you, Adam. I tried calling, I tried everything. I tried to let you know what happened that night. You ignored it. My choices now aren’t really your problem. Not that there’s anything wrong with anything I’m doing. And you’re the one who came in here and paid for an entire night private session upstairs, so what exactly does that say about you, huh?” Ivy snapped right back, her tone growing increasingly bitter.

“I didn’t know what t’ do! You were supposed t’ come meet me n’ leave that night and y’ never showed! What was I suppose t’ do? Just forget ya didn’t show and skipped town and try to pick up where we left off? If I’d ever gotten anything ya sent to begin with! I never heard another word out of you!” Adam exploded before he could stop himself and before he’d fully processed what she said seconds prior. As soon as what she’d just snapped at him really sank in, Adam went quiet.

Ivy’s lip quivered for the smallest of seconds and she tensed all over at the anger in his voice. “I was tryin t’ get ya away from there, darlin. All ya had to do was come to our spot that night, leave with me… I promised to take care of ya. I never woulda broken that promise.” as he felt himself getting angry because until right now, he’d never even stopped to consider that Ivy might have tried reaching out. He got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew exactly why he’d never known and he made a firm mental note to talk to his meddling family the next time he got the chance.

Before finally cutting ties, because this was… If what she said was true, and he had no doubt it was because he’d never known Ivy to lie and she looked entirely too… Hurt… Bitter… right now to be lying, either way… this was the straw. This was it, this was too much interference on the part of his family. And probably her own, Adam found himself thinking, because god knows her old man hated me for whatever reason.

It was a lot to take in at once and combined with the raw pain he felt right now at finally seeing Ivy again, which was all he ever really wanted to begin with, he now had to deal with what they’d both become thanks to their families grudge and the way life was shitty and it stacked the deck against them and their love for each other practically from the word go.

“Look. It’s water under the bridge. Obviously, it wasn’t meant to be. Let’s just… Do this and go our separate ways.” Ivy’s voice trembled slightly as she said it, turning the knob to one of the private rooms above the club, opening the door and stepping inside.

But Adam suddenly couldn’t let it go. And thanks to the abundance of alcohol coursing his veins right now, he wasn’t thinking totally clear either. All he did know was that he had one last chance and he was taking it.

Ivy saw that flash in his eyes and before she could even fully process, Adam was pinning her against the wall beside the door and reaching out past her, turning the lock on the door. His mouth crushed against her mouth hungrily, almost greedily and his hands were all over her. Ivy started out with her hand firmly against his chest, hell bent on shoving him away and keeping a safe distance, but Adam wasn’t having it. And by the time Ivy had to catch her breath from the deep and needy and angry biting kiss Adam was pulling her deeper into, the hand against his shirt wound up tangling in it instead. Her other hand seemed to grow a mind of it’s own, reaching up, tugging at the messy ponytail he wore his hair in currently, even though she knew the rules like the back of her hand and she knew that this was a taboo, them kissing in the stairwell like this… As soon as she’d pulled his hair free from the hair tie, the scent of his shampoo mixed with whiskey and sweat filled her nose and a flood of old memories never truly forgotten came flooding back to her in a rush all over again.

Adam’s teeth clamped down on her lower lip, tugging and his fingertips dug into the soft curve of her hips hard enough to leave marks behind, rubbing her against him roughly. “You were supposed to be mine. Not workin here, like this. Not dancin…I was supposed to take care of ya.”

“Adam, don’t… Please… If we start thinking about this…” Ivy pleaded, her hands shaking as she lowered the one tangled in his hair to the belt buckle at his waist, trailing the tip of her finger over the intricate design on the metal and resting her hand over the buckle, tugging him closer. Despite everything inside her telling her that not resisting was a bad idea and doing this was an even worse one, not really talking and getting closure first was probably the WORST decision of the current ones she’d been making tonight, Ivy suddenly didn’t care. Ivy didn’t want to stop or think about what might happen next, she didn’t want to fight against the pull to Adam that came rushing right back all over again when she’d locked eyes with him downstairs. “I don’t wanna think. Or fight.”

Seconds trickled by slowly as she stared up at him, biting her lower lip. Literally every single thing that kept them apart for so long was racing through her brain and she could tell it was eating away at him too. That it probably had been for a long time now. Maybe even as long as it had with her.

“We’re… Not supposed to… Touch. Or you’re not supposed to touch me.” Ivy managed to tear her mouth away from Adam’s again to let him know what was expected. Adam gave a solemn nod and Ivy rose to tiptoe slightly, muttering dangerously close against his lips all over again, “But Slade did say that this was my call… And I…” she trailed off, sighing and shaking her head, gently shoving him back into the chair that stood just behind Adam, slightly off center of the room. Adam’s eyes met hers and he tucked his fingers beneath her chin to hold her eyes on his. “You what, Ivy?”

“I just need you…” as the words left her mouth, Adam just barely ghosted his hands down her sides, sliding her a little closer to him. Ivy whimpered as she felt him straining at the stiff dark blue denim and before she could stop herself, she was rocking herself over the bulge twitching and straining at it. Adam’s head lowered after he met her gaze for a second or two, a questioning look in his eyes as if to ask if what he was about to do was alright. Ivy nodded and rose up slightly, putting her chest eye level with his mouth. All Adam could do was drop his head down, bury his lips in the exposed cleavage peeking out and in his face and let out this frustrated groan against her skin.

None of this was supposed to go this way and it frustrated him that it had. Ivy’s hips moved in a figure 8 and with each brush of soaked black pleather against the crotch of his jeans,Adam’s fingertips dug into her ass just a little more, he was cautious to at least try honoring the no touch rule Ivy warned him about after the kiss broke a few minutes before. Ivy pressed down a little harder, taking shaky breaths, leaning in and ghosting her lips against his own as she muttered softly, “Missed you. I was so afraid I fucked it all up when you didn’t… Come for me.”

Adam broke at her words, a sharp breath as his hands raised, caressing her cheeks, pulling her mouth against his as she continued to ride his lap, grind against his thigh and rub herself against him as much as she could. His tongue slipped past her lips as he muttered quietly into the deepening and dizzying kiss, “Darlin, I didn’t know.. Nobody told me you were tryin to get in touch. I tried to write you too. Tried callin, tried everythin. I never woulda just let ya go if I hadn’t thought.. That was what you wanted. Never.” he stared her down, emphasizing his words with carefully placed kisses against every bit of exposed skin within his reach. And as if it weren’t enough, he tilted her chin, making her look down at him, hands ghosting down her sides, careful to move immediately back to the arm of the chair just to be safe, pouting as he did so. “I really did. I.. I thought not hearin from ya meant you finally couldn’t fight everything against us anymore.”

“Adam, no. No.” Ivy’s mouth nuzzled against his neck as she started to sink down in his lap, making his head fall back and his eyes flutter open and shut. When she started to crawl out of his lap and she settled on her knees between his thighs, he grunted, his hips bucking upward as a helpless and needy whine fell from his mouth. “Ivy, darlin, what…” he felt her hands working his legs open wider, trailing up and down his thighs, gripping as she made her way back up his body and into his lap and turned to face away from him, rocking her ass back and forth over the throbbing bulge strained against rough denim. He hissed and leaned forward, his chest pressing into her back, his hands leaving the arm rest of the chair and lingering on the insides of her thighs as his mouth pressed against the side of her ear, “Missed you so fuckin much, darlin. So much. I never stopped thinkin about you.. Hell, I dream about you every night.” he admitted in a low and husky growl, sending a shiver racing through her that he felt as soon as it did. Ivy’s hands twined with his, ghosting over her body, lingering on her chest, squeezing as she whimpered.

“Oh Adam.” her words caught in her throat and her head fell back, eyes fluttering open and closed.

“Yeah?” Adam whispered back, his lips dancing down the side of her neck and seconds away from snapping. He’d been kept from her too damn long. And he was tired of it. It had to end tonight.

“Take me home… Somewhere. Anywhere.” Ivy muttered quietly, rubbing herself against his lap a little harder and a lot more urgently.

“Can go back t’ my Airstream over at the fairground.” Adam managed to mutter the words as Ivy turned around in his lap. Adam stood, not bothering to put her on her own feet and as he stopped to open the door he mumbled against her neck “There a back way outta here?”

“Yeah.. Go down the hall and take the stairs. It’ll take ya out into the alley.” Ivy breathed into the kiss that she pulled him into feverishly. The door shut behind them and Adam walked down the hall hastily, stopping at the top of the stairs to press her against the wall. Ivy’s legs wrapped around him and she rubbed against him, whimpering and clinging to him, the tips of her fingers digging into his scalp and tugging at his hair, her other hand lightly digging into his shoulder as she attacked his mouth hungrily.

“Fuck.” Adam managed to gasp just as he descended the stairs and fumbled with the handle on the door at the bottom, hurrying to step out into the alley. From there it was a short walk around the building, and after stopping a time or two between the building and the parking lot where his truck sat waiting, they were finally standing beside it. Adam scooped her up, opening the passenger door and sitting her inside, the restrictions of the club and the VIP room gone by now and all he wanted to do was touch her. Feel her body, her mouth against his own, know that he wasn’t imagining it, this was real and they were together again at last.

Logically, he knew they had a lot to talk about, but for tonight, talking was the last thing on his mind. Their lips came apart swollen and bruised and Adam took a long and deep breath just to try calming himself down a little and Ivy’s legs wrapped around him, pulling him back in all over again, taking his face in her hands, pulling his mouth back against hers all over again. “Adam, I..”

The kiss broke and Adam pressed the side of his finger against her lips to stop the flow of her words, pressing his forehead against hers. “Don’t wanna talk, okay? Just.. Don’t wanna think about all the shit that went wrong. Not tonight.”

“I need to say this.” Ivy insisted. Adam bit his lip, his stomach churning nervously as he peered into big brown eyes, waiting, wondering what she had to say so bad that it couldn’t wait. Ivy’s teeth clenched his lower lip and she muttered into heated little kisses against his mouth, “I never stopped loving you, ever. God did I try. I just.. I couldn’t.”

“I know, darlin. I know. I feel the same way.” Adam reassured her, a hand slipping to rest on the back of her neck, pulling her mouth into his completely as his other hand worked up the insides of her thighs, squeezing as he pulled her close again, letting her cling to him. “I gotta drive.”

Ivy gave a soft laugh and nodded, trying to ply herself from his arms. Adam hurried around his truck and climbed inside, starting the engine and taking a side road out of the parking lot because it was shorter than going through town to get back to the fairgrounds. His hand wandered over the console, grabbing for her thigh, squeezing after he’d raised her hand to his lips. Ivy bit her lip, legs falling open ever so slightly. Before Adam could stop himself from doing so, he was growling quietly and shifting in the driver seat, leaning over to whisper boldly against her ear, “We might make it inside. If you’re lucky. Keep it up, Ivy Jane.”

Apparently, she was trying to get herself fucked against the side of his Airstream because her next move was to lean across and ghost her lips up the side of his neck while lowering her hand and slowly moving it up the inside of his thigh, lingering over a now throbbing bulge. His breath caught in his throat and Ivy gently nipped at his earlobe as she giggled almost whisper quiet against it. His hand skimmed along the inside of her thigh, fingertips disappearing beneath the hem of those black pleather hot pants she was wearing. As soon as his fingertip grazed against soaked fabric, he groaned, biting his lip and tried to make himself focus on the road.

As his finger slipped beneath the fabric barrier and slowly slid over her slickened folds, Ivy shivered and a quiet moan escaped her lips. Her hand found it’s way back down to his lap and Ivy stared at him a few seconds, tongue rolling over vibrant red lips.

“What, darlin?”

“Oh, nothin…” Ivy hummed innocently as her fingers tugged at the zip of his jeans, lowering it slowly. Too slow. Adam gripped the wheel and almost as soon as he felt her hand curl around his thick length, pulling it free from his jeans, he took a few long and shaky breaths, sinking into the seat just a little bit. Her tongue trailed slowly over the tip of his member, circling it, then trailing lower, moving down the side of his shaft, trailing it’s veiny length.

“Darlin, fuck.” Adam groaned, thighs tensing at the delicious and slow torment that was her tongue, gliding over his cock. Her lips wrapped around it and his hand tangled in her hair, tugging. The parking lot of the fairground came into sight and Adam let out a long and ragged breath as he felt her mouth latching on greedily, the hum that passed those lips as she bobbed her head up and down sending vibration racing down his length. By the time he got the truck parked and the engine killed, he was white knuckling the steering wheel with one hand and breathing so heavy it almost sounded like he’d ran a marathon. He leaned his head back against the head rest of his seat and bucked his hips against her mouth carefully, praising in a husky whisper, “Fuck, darlin.. So good with that little mouth of yours. C’mon, baby. Deeper.”

When she trailed her tongue right down the underside of his length, he growled and groaned aloud more than a few times, eyes fluttering open and closed as he bucked in his seat all over again and tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging a little. “Ivy, fuck yeah. Feels so good.” he groaned over and over.

Ivy hit her gag reflex and Adam thrust against her mouth all over again, lowering his hand to tilt her chin and make her stop, look up at him, leaning down to crash his mouth against her mouth sloppily and muttering into the kiss, “Best we move this inside, darlin.”

“Adam.” Ivy whined and pouted, but Adam shook his head and got out of the truck, hurrying around to her side, reaching in to unfasten her seatbelt and scooping her out into his arms, jogging in a hurry towards the silver Airstream parked haphazardly nearby. Her back met the door of his camper and his hand disappeared right back up the hem of her hot pants, fingers hastily brushing her soaked panties aside as he growled against her neck and buried his fingers knuckle deep into her heat, working her open, bucking himself into her, teeth snagging on skin and leaving marks behind. When he finally got the damn door unlocked, he stepped inside, locking it behind him, tossing his key onto a butcher block countertop. He stepped into the back of the camper, gently tossing Ivy against the mattress and sinking down, his hands gripping the waist of her hot pants, tugging both hot pants and soaked panties to the ground in less time than it took Ivy to bat a lash. As his hands parted her thighs, she rose to prop on her elbows, staring down at him. Adam hooked his arms beneath her thighs to hold her legs open and his eyes met hers as he licked his lips and lowered his head, dancing his lips right up the inside of her thighs.

Ivy’s hand lowered, gripping at his hair, trying to tug his mouth up higher and Adam chuckled quietly against her skin, leaving little kisses and bites behind. The second she felt his tongue rolling over her folds and heard the greedy loud slurping she whimpered almost helplessly when she tried to rock her hips upward and realized that Adam had such a tight grip on her thighs that she really couldn’t move. “Adam.” she panted, biting her lip, whimpering even louder as his mouth closed over her clit, tongue circling the small bundle of nerves, teeth snagging on her skin to mark her up. “Fuck, darlin. Still taste so sweet. And you’re so wet for me already.” his nose bumped against her pelvic mound as he mumbled against her cunt and his tongue started to descend, trailing right over her folds, sending a shiver racing through her body. Ivy’s toes curled in the bed sheet beneath her, and Adam’s grip loosened slightly. The second it did, Ivy was writhing and rocking her hips upward against his mouth as much as she could and Adam slipped two fingers deep into her heat to join his tongue.

“C’mon, darlin. Let go. Let me taste.” Adam coaxed, not that Ivy needed much of a reason and as her orgasm washed over her, leaving her shaking and whimpering and moaning on the bed below him, Adam raised up, unbuckling and then unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, tugging off his boots and then kicking the denim free from his body, lowering himself and settling over her, his hand disappearing down between them to guide his cock over her folds, making her shiver all over again and whimper, pleading with him.

“C’mon, Adam, now.. Need you now.”

“I know, darlin, I know.” Adam mumbled quietly against her mouth, his tongue parting her lips as he sank his length deep into her dripping heat, laying still and kissing her all over the face and the neck as he touched her everywhere, hands unable to be still. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Ivy could only nod and seconds later, moan his name loud enough to be heard outside the trailer as he started to fuck into her slow and deep, the mattress creaking steadily beneath the two of them as Adam’s hands captured her hands at either side of her head and his mouth conquered her mouth and then drifted down, lingering on her throat, leaving even more marks behind.

Ivy’s legs wrapped around his hips to pull him even closer, drive his cock in even deeper and when he bottomed out, he growled hungrily into her mouth. Her hand raised, tangling in his hair and tugging at it as Adam started to fuck into her harder, faster, their moans and panting labored breaths joining in the sound of the bed creaking beneath them both. Ivy’s head fell back as she felt another orgasm building and Adam’s hips started to snap erratically, crashing into hers, almost bruising as his pace quickened. “Ah… Fuck. Adam, fuck… Don’t… Don’t stop, baby, c’mon. I’m so.. Close.” Ivy’s eyes fluttered open and shut and her arms wrapped around his neck as Adam’s mouth crashed against her own and he muttered quietly, “Fuck, darlin… Feels so good, holdin you again. So good. Never gonna let…” his breathing hitched as he deepened the kiss and finished, “Let you go again. Ever.”

“Promise me.”

“I mean it, baby girl.” Adam growled as his teeth tugged at her lower lip and his cock bottomed out, sending her right over the edge, her orgasm shattering through all over again. Adam felt her clench around him and he gripped onto her tighter, trying to slow down and brace himself, anything to keep from getting off right away, but nothing worked, especially with Ivy whimpering beneath him, pleading and begging him not to stop, begging him to fill her up.

Ivy’s nails raked down Adam’s back as she felt the throbbing warmth of his release as it filled her and she clung to him, kissing his neck and shoulders, Adam kissing her on the forehead and cheeks, both of them trying to come down from the high of their orgasm.

Adam flopped down onto the mattress and reached out, pulling Ivy on top of him, locking his arms around her as he muttered softly, “I really do mean it. We’re gonna be okay. And I won’t lose you again.”

Ivy leaned her head down, brushing her mouth against his as she mumbled in a quiet yawn, “I know you mean it. And I don’t wanna lose you again. I… If you asked me, I’d pack up and leave with you right now. I just.. I wish I’d been able back then.”

Adam’s hand trailed lazily over her spine and he shushed her, nodding. “I know, darlin. I should’ve known it all along. Feel like an asshole because I didn’t.”

“We’re really gonna be okay..” Ivy’s voice was softer, he could look up and tell she was starting to drift off and he chuckled, pressing his lips against hers as he reassured her again that they were going to be okay.

This time was DIFFERENT. Adam was going to make sure of that.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

Chapter 2 - (totally uninterested.)

The possibility of speaking more than five words to Ethan had my heart doing somersaults as I got off of the elevator in Harry’s building. I knew where he lived--Kristen’s classmate, Georgia (who we sometimes hung out with) lived on the fourth floor.

If I remember correctly, we ended up eating pizza here a few Fridays back at 2am when we were plastered and Kristen was not anxious about her grades.

I made my way down the hall to the fifth door as Harry’s text message from an hour earlier had instructed. I lifted my hand to knock, but it opened before I made contact--Harry stood with wide eyes and an expectant smile on his face.

“Hi,” I said, pulling my head back in surprise. I peered over his shoulder, causing him to laugh. “Is he here yet?”

“No, Nora, relax, come in.” He stepped aside and let me by, we were cramped in a small hallway that didn’t give me much of a view of the rest of the place. “They’ll probably be here in like 15 minutes. They sometimes get take away after practice.”

“Hmm,” I said, watching as he retreated back towards the living room. It was decently clean for an apartment of four guys.

Harry and Ryan had been friends since freshman year--at least, that was my understanding. He was the one that Harry talked about the most. Then there were Alex and Niall as well.

Ryan and Niall were both on the basketball team with Ethan. Harry was on the soccer team (he’d told me at work that he was good, but I decided out loud when he told me that I didn’t believe him.) Alex, their fourth and final roommate, didn’t play any sports. He was big into the music scene and spent most of his free time, as Harry as explained, in a dingy recording studio with his classmates.

“Hmm what?” He asked over his shoulder, not stopping to look back at me. He headed into the kitchen and reached into the fridge. He pulled out a beer and handed one to me before opening one for himself.  I followed him over towards the couch and sat beside him.

“Just hope he shows up,” I said simply, shrugging my shoulders. I took a sip of the beer and winced at the tase. I’d never admit it to Harry, but I was much more of a cider or wine type of girl.

“Right,” he laughed. I followed him into the living room and sat beside him on the couch. He reached for a bag of chex mix he’d apparently been snacking on before my arrival. “Whatever would we do if he didn’t?”

I rolled my eyes, pulling out my phone to check the time again. “They don’t pay me enough to sit next to you in that stupid library, so we’re definitely not gonna do it out here,” I motioned around his apartment.

The TV was on, commercials flashed over the screen as he pulled his eyes up to look at me--completely unenthused. “Nora, just appreciate the fact that I even let you come over, okay? Now you get to drool over him like he’s a caged animal and he’ll never even know.”

His tone was playful and chastising, but I pulled my feet up on the couch and moved around to get more comfortable. “How are you gonna introduce me?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows at him to bother him more than I already was. I took a few more sips of my drink--hoping the alcohol would calm my nerves.

He reached his hand in the bag and then popped another handful in his mouth and shrugged. “Doesn’t he know who you are?”

I thought on it for a second. I mean--he should. We had a class together during our sophomore year and he’d spoken to me three whole times in the Library. He at least had to know my face. “He knows that I work in the library, I think.”

Harry widened his eyes a little bit and let out a sigh, grabbing another handful of his snack. “Okay--I’ll just say you’re my friend, from the library, that we work together,” he shrugged a bit.

There was noise in the hallway--laughter and voices as the door opened, and I turned to look at Harry with big eyes and a grin on my face.

He rolled his eyes at me and reached his hand inside the bag once more. “Oh come off it,” he said, and he must have known his gibberish made no sense to me--an American--because he continued when I scrunched my nose in confusion. “Relax.”

Niall, Ryan, and Ethan all came in with their duffle bags on their shoulders, laughing at something one of them had said as they filed into the living room. They dropped their bags on the floor and I--as the ever-nervous idiot who could barely manage a conversation with someone she found attractive--kept my mouth shut decided I’d let Harry do most of the conversing.

“Hey guys,” Harry greeted. “This is Nora. We work at the library together.”

I watched as they each scanned my face. I’d met Ryan maybe twice--Niall was in my major, and Ethan, well, you know the story. I raised my beer at them in greeting and let them turn back to each other and whatever conversation they’d been having. Was that too friendly? Was raising a beer at a group of guys basically code for I’m also a dude, so don’t bother finding me attractive?

“Dude, y’shoulda seen the fucking half courter this one made tonight,” Niall pointed at Ryan, who was too busy downing a gatorade to respond. Ethan sat at the table in the corner, taking off his shoes and finding a sweatshirt in his bag.

“It wasn’t actually that good,” Ethan laughed, looking up to give Harry and I more details.

“It was pretty fucking awesome,” Ryan defended, setting the gatorade down on the counter. He was stood in the kitchen--but a cut out in the wall allowed a full view. “I’ve never seen you make one like that,” he shot back at Ethan.

“I’ve never tried cause I’m not trying to get hurt and benched for the fucking season,” he retorted with a laugh.

I didn’t know nearly enough about basketball to act like I did, so instead, I tried to change the subject.

“Have you started your project for Benham yet, Niall? You’re taking his class this semester, right?”

He let out a dramatic groan. “Oh, am I. He’s ridiculous--completely mental. I have to work with Kyle Porter, that wanker. He’ll probably fuck it all up and we’ll fail.”

Harry let out a laugh at how dramatic his friend was being, but I simply kept my eyes on Ethan as he came to join us on the couch. He reached for the bag of chex mix from Harry (who easily handed it over) and plopped himself down with a sigh.

I felt somewhat betrayed, honestly, not just because Ethan had sat next to Harry instead of me--but really because Harry had completely and utterly downplayed his friendship with Ethan. Here they were, all hanging out in Harry’s apartment, and Harry just handed him the chex mix as if they were long lost brothers in some sort of tribe of idiots.

Why had he completely downplayed it?

Ethan leaned forward and it took me a second to realize he was looking at me. “Nora, you said? You were in my History of the English Language class last year, right?”

I let out a laugh, which Harry made a face at because nothing Ethan had said was really funny, and nodded. “Yeah, with Adam Middleman, good times!”

Ethan nodded and sat back again, letting his eyes drift to the TV. Harry’s eyes were still on me--his face blank and somehow sending a message that I was a total idiot.

“Anyone hungry? Should we go to the dining hall or order something?” Ryan asked as he came back into the living room, his eyes scanning the room for answers.

“I’d do either,” Niall announced, tossing his bag into (what I assumed to be) his bedroom. “But I’m hungry, so let’s make up our minds, ladies.”

“Let’s just do the dining hall,” Ethan said with a shrug.

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “The dining hall is fine.”

Harry turned to look at me again--which was just getting to be obnoxious now. He’d give me these are you crazy? stares, but wouldn’t actually say anything. He stood from the couch as Ryan responded to Niall, saying something about the sandwich bar in Henderson Dining Hall. 

“Will you come with me, for a second? I want to show you something.”

I stared up at Harry, confused and annoyed that he was trying to get me away from Ethan. He widened his eyes at me to let me know he was serious, and I stood from the couch. I held in the exaggerated sigh I so badly wanted to unleash and followed Harry down a side hall and past a bathroom.

He went into a dark room (his bedroom, I was guessing), and shut the door behind me. “You need to chill out. You’re being obnoxious.”

I rolled my eyes, somewhat offended by his feedback. He clearly didn’t know what it was like to have the hots for Ethan Davis for two years and finally be able to talk with him in a casual environment. I was always seeing him at parties or in the library--now I finally had the chance to talk to him like a real person.

“I am not being obnoxious.”

“You’re being obnoxious,” Harry nodded sternly, his arms now crossed in front of his chest.

“You think everything I do is obnoxious,” I retorted, crossing my arms to mirror his.

“Everything you do is obnoxious.”

“Is that seriously all you wanted? Can I go back out there now?”

He let out a breath and tried to temper himself. “Nora, just--play it cool.”

“What do you mean?” I asked--almost desperate for him to give me legitimate feedback. If he was going to drag me into time out and just shit on me, I didn’t want his help. If he was going to actually give me insider advice on how to land Ethan Davis, I’d take it.

“Just, I dunno--play hard to get or something. Don’t act so available.”

I paused for a second, looking at him straight in the eyes. Maybe the adrenaline was clouding my comprehension, but I didn’t understand. “But,” I said, my eyes narrowed. “I am available.”

He rolled his eyes a little, which caused me to laugh in response. “Nora, that’s not hot. Being unavailable and totally and completely uninterested is hot.”

I frowned at him, totally and completely trying to not laugh at how stupid he sounded. “You’re incredibly moronic. Can I go now? I’m totally tagging along for dinner.”

He let out a deflated laugh. “You’re unbelievable. But I’d love to watch you continue to crash and burn tonight.”

I reached up to pinch Harry’s cheek. He swatted at my quickly, a deep frown causing a wrinkle in his forehead. “Cheer up,” I said. “You get to watch people fall in love tonight!”

**

My dinner with Harry and his friends was mostly uneventful. I did my best to interject at the right moments and say things that would catch Ethan’s attention, but most of my social interaction ended up being eye rolls back and forth across the table with Harry.

At least I got to sit and look at Ethan for a whole 45 minutes.

And now, I was hoping when Ethan left the library for the night, he’d decide to march right up to the information desk, tell Harry to suck it, and propose marriage right here, right now. I’d happily oblige.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Harry mumbled, his mouth half blocked by the hand he rested his chin on.

I looked over at him, clicking my phone shut in a quick realization that I still had a paper to write. “What thing?” I asked, my voice monotonous and disinterested.

“When you roll your wrist and make that cracking sound.”

I narrowed my eyes--was he serious? My silence made him look up at me and offer a quick smirk before he turned back to his computer.

“Sorry that I don’t live to please you,” I replied coolly. I lifted my feet from the desk and brought them back to the ground, internally bargaining with myself that better posture would lead to better focus.

Harry was quiet for a second. He typed away at his computer and I flipped through the book on my desk, hoping to find whatever inspiration I needed to bang out a quick 6 page paper.

“The other night was terrible,” he said, his eyes peering up sideways at me to see what type of response he’d get out of me.

“It wasn’t terrible,” I corrected him. “It was the first of many nights that I spend with Ethan. Every couple starts somewhere.”

He let out a snort, clearly disagreeing with my description. “And how do you think you’ll spend a bunch of time with him?”

I shrugged. “You really hate me that much that you won’t let me hang out with all of you?”

His face was serious, his lips in a straight line and he blinked twice before responding. “Yes.”

“Harry,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re a dickhead.”

He laughed at this, clearly un-offended by my insult and somewhat entertained by his own answer. His hair was up in a bun, he was clad in a black t-shirt and skinny jeans that seemed to make it hard to sit comfortably. He kept moving around and adjusting (what I could only imagine) was his incredibly small penis.

He didn’t respond, instead, he picked up his phone and opened snapchat--clicking through a selfie from some blonde-haired girl I didn’t recognize. Barf.

“I mean, I guess if you don’t want your little secret to get out,” I trailed off, hoping he’d put two and two together.

“My secret?” He asked, his eyes still on his phone as he snapped a picture of his computer in front of him and typed back some type of message to whatever stupid girl was falling for his sickening charm.

“Yeah,” I said casually. “You know, your” I raised my voice to be above our normal library shift volume. “Arrest record.”

He looked up at my quickly, not as bothered as I expected. “It’s not an arrest record,” he reminded me.

“Well, whatever it is, I’d hate for everyone to know about it.”

He lowered his brows at me, his lips still set in a firm line. “Are you trying to blackmail me, Hanson?”

I shrugged my shoulders and laughed a little. “I mean, you told me about it--it’s not like I had to go digging.”

“Keep quiet about it, yeah? I don’t need your big mouth ruining my chance as a politician.”

“Right cause the skinny jeans didn’t already do that for you,” I nodded seriously, a smirk fighting its way onto my face.

He let out a sigh. “Nora, Nora, Nora. You’re my least favorite person on the planet.”

I looked back to my computer and typed my name on top of the word document. “I can live with that.”

We both looked up when we could feel someone approaching the desk, and Ethan (who carried a water bottle in his hands) smiled at both of us.

“Hey, hi Nora,” he leaned forward on the desk. “Either of you know that someone’s totally drunk on the second floor?”

“What?” Harry asked, pushing his computer back on the desk to stand up. “Jesus Christ.”

“Thanks for telling us,” I said, following Harry’s lead. I followed Harry around the desk and into the main area of the first floor.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow night?”

Harry stopped in his tracks and I my head shot in his direction with raised brows. Tomorrow night? I had no idea what he was talking about--but you bet I was going to be there if Ethan Davis would be in attendance. “You sure will!” I answered for both of us.

With that, Ethan waved and bid us goodnight, heading out of the main doors as Harry and I made a beeline to the stairs.

“What was that about?” I whispered once we were inside the stairwell. Even at a lower volume, my voice echoed against the old walls.

Harry took the stairs two at a time, putting distance between us as he replied. “Just some people coming over, it’s not a big deal. You won’t know anyone.”

“I’ll know you and I’ll know Ethan,” I argued.

He rolled his eyes as he stopped in front of the door to the second floor. He placed his hand on the doorknob and paused. “Nora--fine. You can come. But keep your mouth shut about the whole thing with Luke Billups thing, okay?”

I smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Deal.”

**

Not only had I weaseled my way into being invited to whatever type of party was happening at Harry’s on Friday night, but I also weaseled my way into getting a date. So when Kristen and I were stood in the living room, watching as Harry and Niall played pong with Alex and Ryan, I was hopeful that Ethan would be arriving soon.

There were a decent amount of people. A few kids from my major that were friends with Niall, a few guys from the basketball team, a number of girls who seemed to be interested in getting the attention of Harry and his roommates.

Pair that with the lowered lights, the music that was playing way too loud, and the alcohol in every cup, and I was feeling more comfortable by the minute. Even Kristen seemed to be enjoying herself. Georgia Lederman had showed up as well, so we stood in the corner of the room, sipping our drinks and laughing whenever one of the boys did something incredibly stupid.

“Have you seen him yet?” Kristen whispered to me when Georgia got distracted by a fellow classmate.

I shook my head, tilting the rest of my drink back into my mouth. “Nope,” I said defeatedly. “But he’ll be here, he’s the one who brought it up.”

“Anyone need a drink?” Harry’s voice sounded from behind us, I turned suddenly to find him leaning over me, a drunk smile on his face as he waited for our response.

“I’m all set, thanks though,” Kristen smiled up at him.

“I do,” I sighed, somewhat bitter about having to follow him into the kitchen, but also disappointed about the fact that Ethan was still nowhere to be found.

He turned on his heels and started weaving through the living room. I trailed behind, finishing the last of my drink in order to start a new one. Once we were in the kitchen and somewhat separated from the rest of the crowd, I lowered my voice.

“Where’s Ethan?”

Harry pulled a face as he bent into the fridge to grab a beer for himself and a bottle of vodka. “How would I know? He’s not actually my friend.”

“Well you’d have a better idea than I would,” I told him.

He rolled his eyes, taking my cup out of my hands and setting it on the counter. I hoisted myself up, happy to sit on the section of counter that connected into the living room--my back to the crowd--watching as he twisted off the top of the bottle and poured a shot’s worth into my cup. “M’sure he’ll show up eventually. Lemonade or cranberry?”

“Lemonade.”

He poured some in and stirred with a knife. He took a sip first and then handed it over to me. I hopped down and took it, but both of us turned to the door when it opened and revealed more people in the hallway.

Low and behold, Ethan Davis stood behind two other members of the basketball team, a smile on his face as Alex greeted them at the door.

“It’s about time,” I said under my breath, only loud enough for Harry to hear--who only let out a short laugh.

Ethan squeezed his way through the people in the hallway, joining us in the kitchen as he offered hellos. “How’s everybody doin’?”

“Great, hi, how’re you?” I asked, offering a side hug as he leaned into me. Harry made a face but turned around to grab a beer from the fridge, offering it to Ethan without a greeting.

“Good, happy to be here, how are you two? Glad to not be at the library?”

“Totally,” I laughed, sipping at my drink to make myself feel less awkward.

“Actually get to just hang out tonight, right? Must be hard to work with your significant other,” he laughed.

“What?” I tilted my head sideways, sure that I had misheard him. Harry let out some sort of laugh but looked just as interested in Ethan’s next words.

“Aren’t you two, like--y’know--together?”

I pulled my head back and my eyes went wide--I probably couldn’t have made a more disgusted face if I tried. I looked up to Harry quickly, totally unsure of how we’d given Ethan that impression. Maybe it was the bickering. Maybe it was the time Harry pulled me into his bedroom last week in front of Ethan. Whatever it was, Ethan couldn’t have been more--

“Right,” Harry nodded, slinking an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. “Yeah, we are, actually.”

“What?” I said again, looking up at him, eyebrows knit together in confusion and annoyance. He smiled down at me and widened his eyes, somehow conveying that he had a plan and that it was in my best interest to go along with it. I let out a sigh, hoping to God that he wasn’t about to screw me over. I twisted my mouth into a small smile. “I thought we weren’t telling anyone about it, babe?”

Harry laughed a little. “Yeah, well, it’s just Ethan. He’s a pal.”

Funny--that was a change of tune from what he’d said five seconds ago. 

Ethan let out a laugh and slapped Harry on the arm. “Happy for you two.”

I forced a grin in his direction--feeling suddenly stuck against Harry’s side and under his arm. Kristen, who was watching on in the corner with Georgia and Kate Levinsky, had the most confused look on her face. She wasn’t the only one.

Ethan got distracted suddenly, pulled into the living room by Ryan to play a round of pong, which gave me the perfect opportunity to pull Harry aside and smack him upside the head for a whole hour. “Excuse me, bedroom, now.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at this. “Didn’t know you’d be so willing,” he laughed, only causing me to roll my eyes at his stupid joke. I pulled him by the shirt into his room, shut the door behind us with a thud, and set my drink down on his bedside table to cross my arms.

“Okay, relax,” he said slowly, drawing out the phrase in a mess of slurred words and accent. “That’s the most interested in you he’s seemed. So, you’re welcome.”

“You’re welcome?!” I repeated his words in a high pitched voice, my anger getting the best of me.

“Nora, just chill, alright? It’s not real. Just let him think that for a week or something and then you can tell him we ended things and he’ll want to swoop in.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s Ethan Davis,” he shrugged. “He’s kind of that guy.”

I looked at him with wide eyes, expecting him to continue. He sighed again. “Y’know--he has a reputation for being kind of a rebound. He hooked up with Charlotte something in your major. Right after her and Andrew Best broke it off?”

“Just because he did it once doesn’t mean he’d do it again.”

“He did it with Allie Nguyen and Peter Norville too.”

“Okay, but, you don’t know that it means he’s actually like, into that.”

Harry rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed that I wasn’t more appreciative of his quick thinking.

“And besides, fake dating is stupid and it won’t work and it would require that we spend more time together outside of the library than we’ve already done this week. Don’t you hate me? Don’t you not want anything to do with me?”

He shrugged. “If it means you’ll keep your mouth shut about what I told you and cover my ass when I’m sometimes late for shifts and if it will get you closer to Ethan so you shut up about him, I’ll do it.”

I sat on his words for a second. He sipped at the beer in his hand and gave me an expectant look, as if he were impatiently waiting for my answer.

It felt stupid. It felt like it was bound to go wrong and things would get weird and complicated and then what if at some point things between me and Ethan actually did work out? What if we ended up married and I’d have to tell him that I lied about being with Harry to make him interested? I could already picture the emotional break up scene with Ethan in my head where he found out I lied and felt betrayed and I didn’t know if I wanted to go through that.

But maybe I was getting ahead of myself.

I let out a breath--and Harry seemed to tilt his head to prompt me to answer him.

“Fine, okay. Fine.”