#even spent ages on hold with the technical support phone line

[cosmogyros]

ich lenke mich gerade von der Hölle der Arbeitsagentur-Webseite mit tröstlichen Gedanken von Adam & Leo ab :')

[viking-raider]

Southern Generation - Part II

Summary: Working for Lily is going well for Sy, but he wants her to meet a special lady in his life, and manages to get her out of the house.

Pairing: Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 5,698

Rating: PG - Language, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Angst

Inspiration: An old fic I wrote and wanting to write a Sy fic.

Author’s Note: Thank you to @wondersofdreaming​

“You've been getting here more early than usual.” Lily commented, handing Sy his usual morning coffee as he arrived on the property. “You fly here like Superman or something?”

She teased him as she sat down on the brand new porch swing that Sy had built with the scrap lumber from the porch and siding.

Sy laughed and leaned back against the porch railing. “No, I've been staying at the Sunway Motel in Celina.” He confessed, crossing his ankles. “I've been too tired to drive back to Austin most days, I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel or anything. So, I've been crashing there to keep it safe, and it just makes getting back here a sight easier, than a three-hour drive.” He told her, shaking his head.

“One-way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lily frowned, offended to hear it.

“Well, I don't want you paying that out of your pocket.” He replied, frowning back at her. “It's not a big deal for me.”

“I do technically pay you to stay there, Sy.” Lily answered, shaking her head at him.

“True.” He nodded, staring at the tips of his boots. “But, I also have a Military paycheck.” He informed her. “Again,” He sighed, pressing his lips together. “I didn't want you paying for something I can pay myself. You buy enough things as is.”

“Well, I would have offered to pay for it.” She started, folding her legs. “But, I also would have offered you one of my guest rooms.”

Sy blinked at her, he hadn't expected that from her, it seemed a bit toward. That thought made him paused, blinking at himself. Did Austin 'Fuck and eat you out til you can't walk' Syverson just have an abstinent thought.

Holy fuck, I did! He thought, staring at her.

And it wasn't because Sy wasn't attracted to her, because he very much was.

She was a beautiful young lady. The way her eyes lit up, every time she smiled, even when she was being shy. She came just to his shoulder. Her hair looks so silk and soft, that it took everything in Sy's power not to reach out and caress his fingers through it to find out just how pillow-y soft it was. She was dainty, but had curves in all the right places, for Sy to hold onto her. He bit the inside corner of his lip, thinking about gripping those hips of hers and kneading them in his big mitts, to rub up against that plump, heart shaped ass, to grab or bury his face in those matching breasts.

Sy cleared his throat and took a deep gulp of his cooling coffee, praying his growing erection wasn't too obvious to her.

What a way to ruin it, Syverson. He berated himself, trying to rein himself back in.

“Anyway,” She said, breaking the silence and getting up off the swing. “The offer stands, if you want it.” She told him, and went back inside.

He stayed there long after she had gone upstairs to her office to start her own workday, even after his coffee cup was empty. He turned around, setting the empty cup on the railing and watched the sun slowly climb higher into the sky, before sighing and getting back to work, siding the back portion of the house; thinking he might start working on the roof next. Since Spring was due soon and the weatherman said it would be a cold and rainy one.

“I'm going to be late tomorrow.” Sy said, that afternoon.

“Okay.” Lily smiled, taking up his empty lunch plate and turned towards the sink. “Everything okay?” She asked, turning the faucet on to do them and the ones from breakfast.

“Everything's great.” Sy smiled, leaning back in his chair and grinning.

“I've never seen you smile so big, since we met.” She teased him, chuckling.

“I made a friend in Baghdad.” He explained, giddy. “She's finally over here in the States, so I need to pick her up at the airport.” He was excited about getting Aika again, even more so for Lily to meet her.

“I want you to meet her.” He added.

Lily's stomach clenched hearing him talk about whoever she was, a bit down to find out he apparently had someone special in his life. “I look forward to it.” She said, focusing on the plate in her hand.

“Great!” He beamed, getting up from the table. “I'm sure the two of you will be two peas in a pod!” He said, heading out the back door to finish his work.

“Totally.” Lily sighed, frowning to herself.

The next day, Lily was a complete wreck about meeting Sy's friend.

She had tossed and turned all night, barely getting any sleep as she kept thinking about the meet. She knew the woman was going to be gorgeous, why wouldn't she be, if Sy had been so excited about her being in the States and she was able to capture the attention of his ocean blues. Eventually, Lily got out of bed, tired of not finding a comfortable position and peace of mind to fall asleep. Besides, knowing her luck, she'd be subjected to dreaming about meeting the lady and all her, super model glory.

So, she padded down to her office and flipped on her computer, deciding to get her day started early and finish the few projects she had going on with a couple of clients. But, not even that helped her forget about the situation, if anything it made it worse, her leg impatiently bouncing to the tune of her agitation and self-pity. Running a hand through her hair for the hundredth time, before putting it back up, yet again, she huffed and stood up, pacing the floor of her office, from the window to the door, and back, biting her fingernails and mumbling to herself.

“Why would you even have the remotest chance with a guy like Austin Syverson?” She berated herself, yet again. “Good lord, look at the man! He's an actual man and you've never even kissed a boy. He's the whole package and you're just full of baggage. This is definition of friend zoned, and you bloody well know it!”

Sy had driven back to Austin after leaving Lily's place the night before. He was so excited to retrieve Aika from quarantine. It felt like an age since they last saw each other, but not as long as it might have felt, if he hadn't had Lily for company and the work on the farm to do, day in and day out.

“Fuck,” He huffed, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. “I really hope the two of them get along.” He mumbled to himself, fidgeting in his seat. “Maybe, I should have told her about Aika. What if she's allergic to dogs, or doesn't even like them?” He questioned, suddenly doubting himself. “I know she likes horses, but a dog isn't a horse, and the horse isn't on her property.” He glanced at his mobile phone in the passenger seat, questioning if he should just call Lily and tell her he's bringing his dog to the farm, for her to meet.

“No.” Sy shook his head, brushing it off. “It'll be fine. This will be great! They'll get along perfectly and it'll be a happily ever after.” He nodded, pushing himself to be positive as he pulled into the facility to pick Aika up. “Captain Austin Syverson, here for my dog, Aika.” He told the lady at the front desk, then signed the release paperwork, while they brought her out to him.

“Hey, girl!” Sy called, as Aika charged for him. “Oh, I've missed you so much, bug!” He said, rubbing her erect ears and scratched down her back, making her back leg go wild. “I've got someone special I want you to meet.” He said, getting the German Shepherd into his truck. “You're going to love her.” He smiled at Aika, who licked his scruffy cheek.

“And she's probably going to spoil you rotten.” He chuckled, pulling out of the parking space.

“Oh shit.”

Lily gulped seeing the kicked up dust cloud on the driveway, as Sy's truck approached the house and felt her heart stop, knowing at any moment, she would be meeting his special lady in a matter of minutes. She had been trying all morning to put on a brave and supportive face, not wanting to make herself look like a fool in front of them. “I can't do this.” She gulped, running into the bathroom upstairs and vomited into the bowel several times, before quickly brushing and rinsing her mouth out.

“Afternoon, Lily!” Sy yelled, getting out and giving her a wave as she stepped out onto the porch, he was positively beaming. “You ready to meet her?” He asked, gripping the handle of the passenger door.

“Yep!” She called back, forcing a smile. “As I can be.” She mumbled under her breath as Sy opened the door.

A bark filled the humid air and a big German Shepherd jumped out of the truck, jumping on Sy a few times, before noticing Lily and bee-lining for her.

“Oh.” Lily gasped, surprised that Sy's special lady, was a dog. “Hey.” She grinned at Aika, bracing herself has Aika put her paws on her chest. “Aren't you a beauty.” She said, scratching her erect ears and relieved beyond all belief.

“See, I told you the two of you would get along.” Sy said, stepping up on the porch, relieved as well.

“That you did.” Lily agreed. “What's her name?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Aika.” He replied, scratching Aika all over. “I found her as a stray during my last deployment, she was just a pup. So, I took her in and took care of her. She's been stuck in Quarantine since before I got back, and they just released her today.” He explained as Aika bolted off the porch and zoomed around the front yard.

“You don't mind me having her here, do you?” He asked, biting the corner of his lip.

“Are you kidding?” Lily laughed, watching Aika disappear in the tall grass. “She's more than welcomed here.” She assured him, with a sweet smile. “Any time.”

“She's not really used to grass.” Sy laughed, as Aika attempted to pee on every blade she could. “You might get a few holes as well.” He added, knowing the Shepherd's like to dig.

“Please, I doubt anyone will notice.” Lily giggled, looking around the neglected yard.

Sy went to work on his latest project on the property and Aika spent most of the day running around the land, investigating what Sy was up to or lounging on the floor in Lily's office upstairs. Lily sighed and rubbed her face as the phone downstairs in the kitchen rang. She pushed back in her office chair and carefully stepped over Aika, to pad down the small set of stairs that led directly into the kitchen from the upstairs.

“Hello?” She chimed, pressing the receiver to her ear with her shoulder, waving at Sy as he passed the kitchen window and rounded the side of the house, then frowned, when no one answered her greeting. “Hello?” She repeated, a little bit louder. “Are you there?” She asked, checking to make sure the call was connected properly.

“What's wrong?” Sy frowned, stepping into the kitchen as the receiver fell to the floor at their feet.

“Nothing.” She squeaked, quickly bending to pick it up. “Just being clumsy.” She told him, hanging the phone up.

“Well, who was it?” He asked, tilting his head at her strange behavior.

“I don't know.” She replied, shrugging her shoulders and ran a hand through her hair, not turning around to look at him. “They never said anything. Must have been a wrong number or something.” She told him, heart thundering in her chest. “I need to finish my work.” She said, then rushed upstairs, leaving Sy staring up after her.

“I talked to your neighbor, Billie Marlowe.” Sy said, tugging a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face and head with it.

“Oh?” Lily replied, stirring a bit of honey into her tea.

“Yeah, he said, his daughter, Skylar, would be competing in a barrel racing competition this Sunday, in Dallas.” He told her, studying her carefully. “I was wondering, if you had thought about, maybe, going with me?” He asked, licking his lips.

Lily froze, the container of liquid creamer hovering over her steaming cup as she stared across the table at him, eyes wide. “I-”

“Oh, come on.” Sy pressed, brow creasing. “It's my treat. I'll drive and everything. It'll do you some good to leave the house.” He tried coaxing her. “Just for an hour or two.”

Lily continued to stare at Sy, her hand growing sweaty around the plastic container, before she set it down, her shoulders slumping as she did. “All right. Only for a few hours, then we come back. I have a deadline.”

Sy burst into a grin, his blue eyes bright. “Great.” He said, rubbing his hands together. “It doesn't start until eight and her competition doesn't start until eight-thirty. So, we'll have plenty of time.” He told her, excited to go to the fair with her.

Three days later, Sy got Lily in the car and they drove forty-five minutes from Celina to Dallas. The first few minutes in the car was quiet, until Luna's nerves got the best of her.

“When was the last time you went to a fair?” She asked, looking at him.

“Oh, man.” Sy huffed, frowning out the windshield as he considered it. “I think I was sixteen, it was an end of the year thing for my Junior year at high school. I didn't go to my Senior one, since I was getting ready for basic training.” He told her.

“What about you?” He asked, glancing at her.

“Never.”

“You've never been to one?” Sy snapped, shocked.

“Nope.” She shook her head at him.

“Not even for school?”

“I was home schooled.” She explained. “My dad thought they were a suck and waste of money.”

“That's the point.” Sy laughed, shaking his head. “Wasting money on artery clogging food and probably unsafe rides. It's a rush, but mostly from all the sugar.” He grinned at her, amused.

“You'll love it, I swear.”

“I'll take your word for it, Captain.” Lily smiled back, hoping he didn't see how freaked out she was.

They finally reached the fair grounds and a place to park, Sy got them all access bracelets, so giddy as they entered the fair grounds. Lily took several deep breaths as the crowd around them thickened and stuck close to Sy. She really didn't want to ruin Sy's fun at the fair, he had been jabbering about it since she agreed to go with him, telling her about the all fun rides and food. He was like a little boy, reliving his first fair experience, and she knew it had been over ten years since he had been to one. So, she put on a brave face and tried to smile, every time he glanced at her.

Which was every few seconds.

Sy and Lily got on several rides to kill the half hour until the barrel-racing competition started under one of the big tents set up in the huge field. She rather enjoyed the Ferris wheel, just her and Sy in one seat, spaced out from everyone else on the ride. She did think she was going to throw up on the sudden drop ride, but managed to keep it down, making Sy laugh at her as he saw her face from the corner of his eye as the two of them got off the ride.

“You all right?” He chuckled, resting his hand on the small of her back.

“I think, my stomach is somewhere between my brain and my toes.” She chuckled, despite herself.

“It'll even out again.” Sy laughed with her, rubbing her back.

“Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls,” the fair announcer came over the intercom system throughout the fair. “The Barrel-Racing Competition is due to start in ten minutes, in tent number six! So, find your seats now!” He informed the herd of fair-goers.

“Oh, we should head out that way.” Sy said, pulling out the little fair map and directed them towards the tent. “Why don't you find us a place to sit and I'll go get us something to munch and sip on.” He told her, at the tent's entrance.

“Sy..”

“It'll take two minutes.” He told her, squeezing her shoulder, then disappearing into the crowd that was trying to funnel into the tent.

“Fuck, Austin.” Lily gulped, starting to tremble as she turned into the tent and looked for somewhere to sit, before finding a place in the second row, near the exit.

Sy weaved around the countless people in the main walkway of the fair, before spotting a food vendor with something he thought Lily would love to try out and headed that direction, to standing in line. He was only in the line for a moment, when he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see who it was, breaking out into a smile.

“Mr. Marlowe.” He greeted the farmer, sticking his hand out to the other man.

“Please, just call me Billie.” Marlowe replied, smiling up at Sy and shook his hand.

“Sy.” Sy answered. “You must be excited to see your little girl compete.” He said, as they stood side by side and progressed through the line.

“That I am.” Billie beamed, like the proud papa he was. “I am surprised at you though.” He added, pulling off his John Deere hat, ran his hand through his short, salt and pepper hair, and rubbed the over-tanned skin of his neck.

“Why's that?” Sy frowned, shaking his head.

“I saw Ms. Lily with you.” Billie replied as they got to the counter. “My farm has been in my family for four generations. I knew the couple that lived at Ms. Lily's place, when I was a lad. They passed away and their kids didn't want to be farmers, so they sold the place and Ms. Lily bought it a few years back. In that time, I have never seen her leave the property. The closest I've ever seen was when she fetches the mail, and she does that in a jiffy.” He laughed, stepping up to one of the two cashiers, while Sy went to the other.

“What do you mean?” Sy frowned, then gave the cashier an order for two elephant ears, a coke for himself and a Dr. Pepper for Lily.

“Oh.” Billie frowned, realizing Sy had no clue.

“'Oh', what?” Sy pressed, annoyed.

“You don't know about Ms. Lily being Agoraphobic?” Billie asked slowly, blinking at Sy with a shocked look. “I thought you knew. Practically everyone in Celina knows about it. My boy, Travis, who works at the Celina supermarket, even gets her groceries for her and delivers them, and everything.”

Sy floundered, his mouth opening and closing for a moment. “I didn't.” He sighed, clearing his throat. “I just thought she was a home-body.” He said, shaking his head. “Well, I suppose she is a home-body, it's just a bit more complicated than that.”

He felt silly, all of the signs were there, right in front of his oblivious face. He had never seen her leave the property in the weeks he was there working. She was always, either, in the house or on the porch, the furthest from the house he had ever seen her was the mailbox. She got clearly anxious about any mention of leaving to go anywhere, and her car hadn't moved since the first time he saw it in the dirt driveway. Everything made so much sense to him now, with the sudden realization he had left her, alone, in a tent full of complete strangers.

“Shit!” He barked, taking the food and drinks and rushing back to the tent. “Are you okay?” He asked, as soon as he found her in the crowded stands.

“Other than starving, I'm all right.” She replied, looking up at him.

“You're sure?” He asked and sat down beside her, he could see the tremble in her shoulders. “You're shaking.” He pointed out, his brow creasing with concern.

Why did I push her into this! He berated himself mentally.

“I'm just cold.” She frowned back, which wasn't a complete lie, it was rather nippy out and she had left her jacket in the truck.

“Oh.” Sy gulped at her, setting their snacks down on the empty bench in front of them and peeled off his Five Finger Death Punch hoodie. “Here.” He said, handing her the toasty warm garment.

“Thanks.” She blushed, pulling it on.

The comforting warmth of the fabric settled around her, wrapping her up in Sy's scent of dark vanilla, the fresh cut pine boards he had been working with, fresh air and patchouli, from his beard oil. The tremor vibrating through her body instantly subsided as she huddled herself up inside Sy's hoodie, suddenly feeling safe, safer than she had ever felt in her life before, the murmur of the crowd vanished and everyone melted away, but Sy.

Sy smiled at her, watching as she stopped shaking. “Are you still hungry?” He asked her, picking up the heavy paper plate with the lumpy and sweet pastry dough on it, covered in butter, cinnamon and brown sugar.

“What in the world is that?” She frowned down at it.

“It's called an Elephant Ear.” He chuckled, letting her take the plate from him and picked up his own. “It's delicious.”

“It's as big as one!” She chuckled, balancing it in her lap and pushed up the oversized sleeves of Sy's hoodie, not wanting to get it messy as she tore a piece of the dough off and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm.” She melted, licking her coated lips. “That is sinful.” She moaned, smiling over at Sy, who simply folded his and took a massive bite out of it.

“I told you!” He mumbled around his mouthful, grinning ear to ear.

“I might have to learn how to make these.” Lily said, tearing off a bigger piece and licked her fingers clean of the cinnamon and sugar combination.

“Oh, don't threaten to spoil a man!” Sy laughed, gently touching his shoulder to hers.

“Hey, here she is!” Lily called out, pointing to the girl entering the center of the tent atop a horse. “They look so good together!” She grinned, beaming with her own dose of pride in Skylar and Juniper.

Lily lifted her hand and waved as Skylar looked out over the crowd, she spotted Lily and waved back at her, smiling. Skylar got herself and Juniper into position, taking deep breaths to try and settle her jittery nerves and focus on her task ahead. Skylar was given the signal and she was off, speeding as fast as she and Juniper could go towards the first barrel in front of them. Lily scooted towards the edge of her seat, her half eaten elephant ear forgotten in her excitement. Skylar seemingly sailed through the cloverleaf pattern she had to make around the barrels and back to her mark.

The crowd clapped as she went out, letting the next rider and their horse take their turn at the competition. Lily finished off her elephant ear and sipped at her Dr. Pepper, eyes glued to the beautiful horses and focused riders as they went around and around the barrels, kicking up dirt as they went.

“I really hope she wins.” Lily said, looking at Sy, only to realize he had been watching her the whole time, and not the racers. “What?” She squeaked, eyes wide. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” He smiled back, then chuckled. “Well..” He picked up the paper napkin he was given with the elephant ears and gently brushed off a line of brown sugar and cinnamon that Lily had on her cheek. “Just a little sugar.” He told her, softly.

“But, other than that, you're...” He paused for a moment. “Perfect.” He whispered, breathlessly.

Lily gulped and her cheeks warmed, biting the inside of her lip and fidgeted inside Sy's hoodie. “Thank you.” She mumbled back. “For the..” She motioned to her cheek, shyly.

“Of course.” Sy nodded, a tender smile on his lips. “But, I hope she wins too.” He added, turning back to the event.

“All right everybody, it's time to announce the winners for first, second and third place!” The announcer said, standing in the middle of the racing area, a microphone in his hand and a big cowboy hat on his head, as his boots shined with their spurs.

Lily crossed her fingers, making Sy chuckle at her.

“In third place is,” the announcer said, lifting a clipboard he was holding. “Paige Whitley with thirty-four seconds!”

The crowd clapped and whistled as the girl came up and took her ribbon for third place, then stood to one side of the announcer.

“In second place is, Ainsley Ortega with twenty-eight seconds!”

Another round of claps, whistling and yells from the crowd as she took her place beside Paige. There was a moment of pause and the suspense was starting to drive Lily stir crazy as they waited for him to announce the first place winner.

“and the first place winner of the Dallas Heritage Fair is,” He paused for a dramatic affect. “Skylar Marlowe with twenty-one seconds!”

“Yes!” Lily shouted, her arms flying up as she bounced in her seat, overjoyed. “She did it, Sy.” She grinned at him, throwing her arms around his neck, in her moment of overzealous excitement, forgetting herself.

“She did.” Sy grinned, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her back.

He unconsciously turned his face into her hair and took a deep breath, smelling her Lavender and Rosemary shampoo in it. They stayed like that, in a timeless bubble, before they recalled themselves and pulled apart again.

“I'm sorry, I was excited.” Lily blushed, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Same.” Sy replied, clearing his throat. “I should get you back home now, it's been two hours.” He said, picking up their empty plates, napkins and soda cans, standing.

“I-” Lily froze, watching him dump them into a trash bin nearby. “I don't—mind—staying another hour, if you're not.” She told him, a hard lump in her throat. “I mean, there's so much of the fair I haven't seen, since it's my first time, and you spent a pretty penny on our access bracelets.” She said, lifting her arm, the sleeve of his hoodie slipped down her arm, revealing her red bracelet.

“Be rude and a shame to waste it, don't you think?” She asked, staring at him, shyly.

Sy studied her for a moment, weighing what he knew of her now, but she looked and seemed all right, for the most part, just her usual shy and withdrawn self. “If you want too, Lily. Then, I'm more than all right with staying and showing you the rest of the booths.” He said, his voice soft and—protective.

“I would like that.”

Sy smiled at her, gently, then offered her his arm, which she took. He escorted them out of the tent, with the rest of the fair-goers. Sy took her around the fair ground, stopping at booths that Lily showed interest in. He paused at one booth, seeing all the stuffed animals that were hanging around it and pressed his lips together, before glancing at her and deciding to give it a shot, wanting to win something for her, so when she saw it, she'd remember the fun she had at the fair; and think of him.

It was a shooting game booth, giving the player a minute to hit as many targets as they could, each target was worth a certain amount of points and moved quickly. But, Sy wasn't at all worried, this was his element, his military career made something like this easy. So, he took up the bee-bee rifle that the booth runner gave him, slotted it against his shoulder and held it through pure muscle memory. He patiently waited for the signal for him to start, watching the painted metal targets move on their tracks.

“Ready!” the booth runner called, standing to the side. “Set! Go!”

Sy's body instantly tensed and he started firing, his movement was sharp, quick and calculated, hips and shoulders pivoting as he hit each of the targets, only missing two in the full minute he had. Lily stood beside him, fully impressed by his skill.

“Seven hundred and forty-nine points.” the booth runner read off the scoreboard at the back of the booth. “That's the highest score yet!” He said, impressed himself. “You have a pick of whatever you want, sir.” He told Sy, motioning around to the stuffed animals, some were super teeny, while others were nearly Lily's size.

Sy surveyed the selection of stuffed animals, before a certain one caught his attention and smiled at it, it was perfect for why he wanted it. “That's the one.” He said, pointing out the medium sized, curly furred and light tan, teddy bear.

“A perfect choice, sir.” the booth runner praised him, taking it down and handing it over to Sy.

“Here.” Sy smiled, turning and holding it out to Lily. “He's for you.” He told her, gently, as his heart thundered in his chest.

Lily slowly took the bear from him, it was silk soft and plush, it felt nice under her hands, making her instantly smile as she stared down at it. She was touched that Sy had gone through the trouble of winning the game to get her a prize, no one had ever done something so kind, sweet and thoughtful for her before, it made her a bit emotional.

“Thank you.” She whispered, hugging it to her chest and looked up at Sy. “I love it.” She assured him, seeing the concern in his blue eyes that she wouldn't.

“Good.” He beamed, his heart still thundering, but it felt light and hopeful. “I'm glad.”

It was nearly dark by the time Lily and Sy finished their tour of the fair grounds and headed back to the house. Lily convinced Sy to stay for dinner before he headed back home, wanting to thank him in someway for taking her to the fair and showing her such a good time, something she hadn't had in as long as she could remember.

“Your cooking never fails to amaze me.” Sy chuckled, popping the last bit of his biscuit into his mouth. “It's the definition of a great home cooked meal.” He praised her, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his lean tummy through the fabric of his shirt.

“Well, you have the appetite of a Viking.” She giggled back, blushing at her plate.

Sy laughed again, his own bearded cheeks coloring. “True enough.” He agreed, smiling brightly at her.

“Thank you for taking me today.” Lily said, speaking softly. “I really did have a lot of fun.” She confessed, shyly twisting her napkin in her hands, and thinking of the teddy bear that now took up a prized spot on her bed, upstairs.

“I did too, I'm glad you agreed to go with me.” Sy nodded, tilting his head at her. “Did us both a great deal of good to get out and do something fun.”

“I should let you take off, before it gets too late.” She answered, after a brief moment of silence. “I know it's a long drive.”

Sy cleared his throat, biting the inside of his lip, he didn’t want to bring up staying at the motel down in Celina, so the drive was easier to make and gave him more hours in the day to work on the seemingly endless list of projects that needed to be done, to get the farm back into running order, again. He didn’t want them to argue after such an amazing day.

But, he knew she was right.

“Thanks for dinner.” He said, taking his plate to the sink, wanting a reason to linger a second longer. “Good night, Ms. Lily.” He smiled at her, as they stepped out onto the porch. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“I'll be here, with coffee and breakfast waiting, as always.” She replied, standing barefoot on the smooth and solid board of the porch.

He chuckled, bidding her good night again and got into his truck. As he drove to the motel, he recalled all the smiles she had given him throughout the day and the sound of her victorious laugh, when she beat him at the ring toss game, but sweetly gave him the bracelet she won, making him glance at the macrame, blue and gold turquoise beads weaved with black thread and tied with a slip knot, that hugged his thick wrist. His skin tingled as it remembered the gentle touch of her dainty fingers as she slipped it over his hand to his wrist and tugged it secure.

Sy wasn't a jewelry person, other than his watch and his dog-tags, but for as long as he lived, he vowed to never take that bracelet off.

[thunderheadfred]

❄️Todoroki HC's🔥

Aged-up pro hero Shouto. NSFW under the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - -

General

Might as well be tied with Bakugou for the #1 pro hero spot; they seem to pass the crown back and forth every other year. Everyone knows about their intense frenemies uber-rivalry. Well. Everyone but Shouto.

He's asked to speak at a lot of charity events. If he has time to prepare (and hire a speech writer) he is capable of stirring crowds to standing ovations. But if caught unawares... he gets cornered into hilarious on-the-spot interviews. He's been memed. Mercilessly.

He's an OP character, but unfortunately he rolled -500 in fashion sense. Eventually he wises up and hires a stylist. When he finally cuts his hair a slightly different and even more flattering way, it's a national event. People faint in the street.

Does god-awful sleight-of-hand magic tricks when he meets young fans, even though nobody asked him to. The second-hand embarrassment is palpable. But he keeps doing it. God, why does he keep doing it?

Has hovering arm syndrome in every fan photo.

Super into pop music. Not a fan of any particular group or artist, couldn't tell you the name of a single song. But every time he turns up the volume on the radio it's like... really? THIS? Probably pumps that shit through his hero agency to keep up morale. Has no idea what you mean when you tell him his music taste doesn't match his personality.

Similarly, he enjoys brainless romantic comedies and old silent movies. Doesn't laugh at jokes but loses it over physical comedy. Thinks Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd are the funniest people who ever walked the earth.

He's long and limber. Runs practically a hundred miles every day just to "relax." Doesn't even get sweaty doing it. A filthy yoga addict. He'll probably live to be 200 years old.

He can regulate his body temperature for quirk use but in everyday life he's always half a degree outside the Goldilocks zone. It drives him quietly insane; he has an epic love-hate relationship with his thermostat.

Has a therapy animal pet. Doesn't matter if it's a dog or a cat or a bird or an iguana or a teeny tiny rodent. It's the best-behaved animal in the country and speaks more languages than you. It has its own room and an instagram account with millions of followers.

Lives in a traditional Japanese estate that doubles as a national treasure. Probably has government-appointed snipers at the gate, and he's just like, "don't worry about it." You are afraid to touch anything. Fuck, don't even look at anything, just to be safe.

Has an outstanding personal chef who only gets to cook five things unless (thank fuck!!) company comes over. Impossibly picky eater. He rotates between a few "safe" foods and suspiciously side-eyes everything else. If you cook something unfamiliar for him it will be the most awkward meal of your life, because he'd never tell you he doesn't like it. But oh lord, just look at his face.

This clashes directly with his love of traveling. Frequently uses his hero earnings to visit exotic foreign locales over long weekends... but rarely tries the food.

- - -

Dating

A grey-ace demisexual disaster. You could count the number of people he's been attracted to on one hand. He falls madly in love every time and always gets his heart smashed to pieces when his crush can't magically intuit the meaning of his frigid longing glances and generically courteous romantic gestures.

Which is stupid, because he gets propositioned constantly. He can't walk out the door without being flirted with. People keep slipping him their phone numbers and he always directs them to his agency like a moron. It's a good thing he will never understand how attractive he is because that's the only thing keeping him from total world domination.

Conventional attractiveness does not compute. Shouto doesn't have a type, doesn't care that he's an eleven whilst you are merely mortal. He will fall for your personality above all else.

Probably falls head over heels because your schedules overlap in a completely ordinary way and he witnesses you doing something endearing or brave or most likely: utterly mundane.

Pick a favorite, because you're his favorite coworker, or his favorite barista, or his favorite random bystander in line at the grocery store. You made him smile once; then he spent the next three months daydreaming about your future together before you accidentally stomped on his foot, initiating your first real conversation.

He's big on healthy communication. HUGE. He goes to therapy and it shows. Will talk through literally everything to the point of delirium. Sometimes his dedication to resolving every issue right away can get overwhelming; sometimes you just need some frickin time alone. But it pays off, because the two of you have practically never have a "real fight." There's just no way for bad vibes to fester.

STILL, his family wasn't exactly... erm... verbally or emotionally supportive, shall we say. For that reason, he might not give you all the compliments you deserve, because it simply doesn't occur to him to do so. He assumes you know how he feels. If you're self-conscious or insecure in the relationship, it might take him a while to notice. But when he figures it out (or even better, when you tell him directly) he will make it up to you with enthusiasm.

Will take you on lavish dates. Spoils you rotten without actually intending to. He's clueless about money. If you wanted a sugar daddy, you just hit the fucking jackpot. But if the word valet makes you uncomfortable, perhaps suggest some romantic picnics instead. He can still go all out with the food and five-star location without making you see cartoon dollar signs.

Chronic Insomniac. Stays up too late watching YouTube every night. His viewing history is an incomprehensible blur of k-pop music videos, serial killer icebergs, and super girly crafty ASMR channels. When he's watching a video, he is unreachable. Please call back later and try again.

He's disgustingly cute when he sleeps. Doesn't snore, but drools. Sometimes the drool freezes and leaves frost trails on his face in the morning. Still sleeps with the giant stuffed cat pillow that his mother gave him when he was like, zero. He'll inadvertently suffocate you with it, and you will welcome death with open arms because awwwwww!!!!!

The first time he tells you he loves you will be after your traditional Japanese shinto wedding. You won't hear it again until you start a family. Honestly, it's a good thing he doesn't say it often and is always holding you when it happens. It's a knee-buckler.

- - -

Icy-Hot

I don't even need to say it. Shouto is as old-fashioned as they come. You will never open another door or pull out another chair for yourself as long as you live. He will ask before he holds your hand. He will ask before he kisses you. He will stop and check in if you so much as breathe funny during sex.

If you don't orgasm at exactly the same time while staring into one another's eyes, he'll consider himself a failed lover. God forbid you want him to pound you into the futon... cause you are going to have to present that scenario to him in writing first.

Physical intimacy rarely leads to sex. He loves cuddling, craves physical affection. He'll sprawl all over you and turn into goo while you hold him close. He's an amazing, astounding, phenomenally good kisser. And that's... nice and all... but sometimes you have to grab his face and say, "Shouto, I'm horny," before he's like so that's why you're currently dry-humping me?

Even if he isn't technically a virgin the first time (or the millionth time) you sleep together, you won't know the difference. He's a blushing violet. Every. Fucking. Time. This doesn't mean he's a bad lay, oh no. But there's always ten minutes of confused bumbling before he hits his stride and remembers oh yeah, I DO know how to fuck good.

Absolutely silent during sex. Focused. Intense. Sometimes you have to push him a little to make any kind of noise at all, just so you know you're pleasing him (oh don't worry, you are).

His cock is Just Right. Not to big or too small. Perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Somehow pretty. Like a fucking factory prototype. It truly is not fair.

Gets handsy and restless at night, even if you both have work the next day. Seems to crave sex at three in the morning. You've given him more than one exhausted handjob.

Gets offended if you don't cum. Will go down on you for hours. Of course he uses his quirk to tease you. He doesn't typically use it during actual intercourse, but he's all about foreplay, and he'll use every tool in his arsenal.

His sex drive is completely fucking unpredictable. Sometimes he's all over you, other times he's an icy slab. His line of work leaves him busy and stressed on a near-constant basis, so you can't entirely blame his personality for this one. Just give him some time and help him take care of his basic needs. He'll come back around soon enough.

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 1

photo credit: @ssahotchnerr

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, show rating 16+ for reference. depictions of violence, stalking, murder, angst, age gap couple, drinking, brief mention of drugs.

summary - You finally meet the BAU, little progress is made in terms of the case. 

a/n - early update yay! i take a lot of liberties with movies that reader has starred in, pls dont take irl movie release dates into consideration here lol. more notes at the end 

blog rules 

masterlist // read it on ao3 here 

prologue // next chapter 

-----

Chapter 1 

Flights to California always took an extra toll on the team. Reid had explained it once, in a too long ramble, how the wind worked against the plane lengthening the flight at least an hour longer than the trip back home. 

Hotch was finding it difficult to focus on the files in front of him. The first photo he opened was of victim #3, with her eyes closed and face turned to the side, even Hotch could’ve been fooled that it was you lying there dead. While the rest of the team was mulling over the facts of the case, he was debating whether or not to tell the team about your history. The Unit Chief in him knew this was important information that had the potential to hinder the case; his relationship to you was too personal and his withholding of information could even turn him into a suspect. If the roles had been reversed with another member of the team, he’d have concerns over their ability to even be on the case. For now, Hotch forced himself to tune into the conversation the rest of the team was having; promising himself he’d figure out what to do later. 

“Garcia, what do we know about L/N,” Emily asked, turning ever so slightly towards the screen Garcia had just popped up on. 

“I’m glad you asked my dear Emily. Y/N L/N is totally Hollywood’s It Girl right now, it’s rumored you can’t even get a meeting with her without forking over at least twenty big ones. She’s never had a bad role in her career. Personally, my favorite movie she starred in was Mamma Mia, but like I said never a bad role,” Garcia paused for a moment, the sound of her typing filling the silence, “is it inappropriate for me to ask one of you to get her signature for-”

“Garcia,” Rossi interjected, “anything else we need to know about her right now?” 

“Sorry sir, I promise to be on my best professional behavior. But come on, remember when she swept the Oscars three years-”

Hotch felt himself detach from the conversation yet again, staring out the window as memories of the two of you flooded his brain. 

Three Years Ago 

The team had just finished a grueling case in Georgia. It was long, taking nearly two weeks to catch the unsub, in which he had managed to murder three additional couples right under their noses. Inclement weather forced them to stay another night until the storm passed, leaving them all stranded by the airport. In a turnaround way, being stuck gave them the rare opportunity to relax and bond as a team. Rather than all disappear to their own rooms for the night, they all packed into one small hotel room. Boxes of Chinese takeout were littered around the room, along with various bottles of alcohol. The Oscars were on that night and Hotch knew you’d be on the screen at some point, not wanting to miss it he proposed watching it to the team and they all happily agreed. While it was difficult with their schedules to be avid movie goers, they all were relatively familiar with the contenders for big awards such as Best Picture and Best Actor. 

You were nominated for two separate awards that night, along with starring in a film nominated for Best Picture. It had been a monumental year for you, with three separate feature films hitting theaters and all becoming major successes both financially and socially. You had spent so much time jet setting for press conferences and movie tours that you rivaled Aaron in terms of suitcase living. 

“Everyone shut up! They’re about to do Best Supporting Actress, oh I just know it’s going to be Y/N. Emily agree with me! We saw her in Little Women together, I cried. Oh don’t give me that look Emily, you cried too and you know it!” Penelope said enthusiastically, waving her chopsticks around. It was rare that Garcia ever came with on a case, but the location had been in a remote part of the state and they wanted to avoid being unable to reach her and her technical wizardry; a fact she was particularly grateful for, had this watch party been happening without her, she would’ve been so jealous.  

To anyone else, the grin on Hotch’s face would have been easily equated to the bickering going on between his friends and the effects of the few drinks he had thrown back. It was all for you though, he had caught glimpses of you on screen throughout the night and had snuck more than one glance at his phone to see the pictures of your outfit you’d sent him yourself. When the presenters walked on stage, Hotch sat up a bit straighter, his body naturally inching closer to the edge of his seat. The screen set up so the faces of all nominees and their reactions could be seen, Hotch’s eyes glued to the box you were in. 

“And the winner of Best Supporting Actress goes to…,” the first presenter started, slowly opening the envelope they held, “Y/N L/N!” The crowd roared and the camera focused in on you sitting stunned in your seat, surrounded by coworkers and friends. The team was cheering too, the liquor in their system loosening everyone up. Hotch clapping uncharacteristically loud and long even went unnoticed by the others. 

“I was right, I knew it!! I should start betting on this, you know what I bet I could hack into the system-” Garcia’s voice barely even registered in Hotch’s brain as he watched you. With one hand clasped over your mouth and the other holding your dress you made your way up the stairs and to the center of the stage. 

“Wow,” you started, eyes wide as you stared down at the award in your hands, slowly you looked back up into the crowd and continued, “I really mean it when I say I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t even prepare a speech, I’m so sorry,” you paused again, the biggest smile plastered on your face as you quickly wiped a few tears threatening to fall, “thank you all so much, for supporting me and letting me do what I love. Thank you to my fellow coworkers who pushed me in this project and thank you so much to the fans who give me the strength to do this every day. Thank you! Thank you so much!” You ended, making your way back towards your seat. Hotch grinned as you flashed a wide smile to the camera following you, throwing a flirty winky that he knew was just for him.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. When you won again for Best Actress, you were barely able to contain yourself on stage, tears flowing freely down your face as you gave your thanks. The joy you felt in that moment was unlike anything you’d ever experienced in your life. At just 24, you had become the first person ever to win both awards in the same night. Hotch had actually jumped out of his seat at your second win, a motion that confused the rest of the team, but the liquor in everyone’s system forced them to ignore it; more glad than anything to see Hotch loosening up for once. 

After the team finally retreated into their own rooms for the night, Hotch wasted no time in texting you, asking if you were free to talk on the phone. His excitement palpable when not even a minute later your contact came up on the screen. 

“Aaron,” your excited voice came through the phone, just being able to hear you eased tension he wasn’t even aware he had been carrying, “can you believe it!” 

“Congratulations, Miss Double Oscar winner.” Even after a year of being together, his voice made you giddy. “Where are you?” He asked, unable to ignore the pounding sound of music and people in the background. 

“After party, top secret location Mr. Agent. I’m in the bathroom! Am I allowed to tell you I definitely see some residue of a line on the counter,” your voice was slurred and rushed, the energy of the moment combined with the liquor in your system causing your mouth to move faster than your brain, “probably not, ignore that. Where are you?” 

Aaron relayed various info about closing the case and what the team had gotten up to that night. When you began telling him about your night, he couldn’t help but feel insecure. Where he told you about $8 takeout meals and rural Georgia, you were talking about some of the biggest names in Hollywood and the luxury treatment you’d been subject to all night. He forced himself to focus on your voice anyway; not wanting to take this time ‘with’ you for granted. The two of you could’ve talked for hours, had it not been for Hotch pushing you to go enjoy the celebrations. 

“I’m so proud of you angel,” he said softly, voice swelling with adoration, “I’ll see you soon, I promise.” 

“I love you Aaron.” 

“I love you too Y/N.” 

When he finally hung up, he leaned against the wall with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. Relationship wise, it had been a tough year for the two of you. With your schedule busier than you’d ever expected, it meant seeing each other in person was nearly impossible. In good conscience you refused to take him away from Jack on the rare weekends he had off. Instead you’d fly in whenever possible, the two of you spending low profile nights together in fancy hotels or his house if Jack was away with friends. It was excruciating maintaining a relationship like this, but something about the success of the night made the sacrifices feel worth it. 

Present Day

“Look into her dating history, any exes that would want to hurt her?” JJ asked, her question pulling Hotch back into the present. Adjusting to the constant publicity you were subject to had been a learning curve for Hotch, the first time the tabloids ran a story of you photographed with some Hollywood Hunk his bad mood had the entire team walking on eggshells for a week. 

“According to my search she hasn’t dated anyone in years, or at least not publicly. I have a theory she’s secretly dating Henry Ca-.” Hotch zoned back out before Garcia could finish, having no interest in hearing or seeing whoever the media was speculating to be involved with you this time. Willing the plane to land faster, he ignored the faint voice in the back of his head that was telling him you were free to be with whoever you wanted. 

----

“If you’d follow me Miss L/N, the BAU has set up in the back conference room, they’ve been waiting for you.” Officer Reynolds said, her back to you as you followed her down the hallway. It was nearly 9am and you had spent the better half of the morning hyping yourself up to see Aaron for the first time in nearly two years. You made last second adjustments to your outfit; an outfit you definitely hadn’t spent all of last night picking out because you definitely did not want to look good for Aaron Hotchner. As Officer Reynolds moved to open the door you held your breath, thanking the years of experience in manipulating your outward expressions. When four heads turned in unison to look at you, you let out a sigh of relief. Aaron wasn’t in the room. 

“This is Y/N L/N. Miss L/N, meet the BAU,” Officer Reynolds said, extending her arm outwards towards the rest of the room, “I’ll leave you guys to do introductions, if you need anything, find me,” and with that she exited the room. A blonde woman stepped forward first, extending her hand out to you. You knew who she was before she even said her name. 

“My name is Jennifer Jareau, I’m the media liaison with the BAU.” She said, she gave you the same smile all the other officers had been giving you, but unlike theirs that reeked of pity, something in Jennifer’s felt authentic to you. After shaking hands with her, the rest of the room took a moment to introduce themselves. You never thought you’d meet Aaron’s team like this. Over the years, he had shown you countless photos of the team, along with hundreds of stories and tidbits concerning their lives. Even though you knew they had probably spent the entire flight to LA looking at your life, it still felt as if you had some creepy advantage over the situation. 

“The rest of our team, Agents Hotchner and Morgan, are currently doing some research in the field, but until they return we’d love to brief you and ask you a few questions, is that alright?” JJ asked, stepping backwards and motioning for you to take a seat at the round table. 

“Of course,” you quickly replied, moving to take a seat; internally you were laughing at the irony of her asking if it was alright, what would you do, say no? Looking up at the other three members still standing you motioned for them to sit as well, “I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but I’d prefer if you all sat down too,” you paused, before adding, “kinda makes me feel like I’m back at school.” They seemed to smile at that, everyone else moving to find a seat at the table. Before the silence could turn uncomfortable, JJ spoke up again. 

“Does anyone else in your life know about the murders?” 

You shook your head no before replying, “my agent knows just in case I have to go underground and my security guard is aware, but besides them and the police, I haven’t told anyone.” 

“Go underground?” 

“Uh yea, a few years ago I had a stalker. I went ‘underground’ for about three months and the guy seemed to give up. The police have already cleared him, he hasn’t been to LA in over a year,” you explained. 

“That’s good to know. We want to keep your involvement in the case completely out of the media. I can only imagine you want that too,” JJ started, angling her body towards you, “I know you’re probably more than well versed in dealing with the press, but if anyone comes up to you asking about the murders we want you to completely disengage. And of course, don’t tell anyone else about what’s going on.” 

“Alright, now that that’s settled, we just have a couple questions for you,” Emily asked as she stood up, opening up a file from the table, “so what can you tell us about-” 

----

The dump site wasn’t showing any promise. Situated near a highway, the field was hidden from the road, yet still accessible by car. The constant stir caused by the speeding cars meant any leftover DNA or footprints were effectively blown away. 

“Our guy’s gotta be fit. The drop into the field is just steep enough he would’ve had to carry the body at least fifty feet to get it here from the road. He could’ve rolled it, but the bodies were too pristine to have been dropped on the ground like that.” Derek said, looking over at Hotch. The two of them were standing at the edge of the road, looking down at the now empty field. “Not only that, but this is a nice spot. Normally places like this so close to a highway are filled with trash, do you think he might’ve cleaned up?” 

Hotch was silent as he considered this, before slowly nodding, “it’d make sense if he did. Everything we have concerning his treatment to the victims post mortem has been nothing but affectionate.” 

“Do you think there could be two unsubs?” Derek asked, when Hotch looked at him with mild confusion he continued, “All the victims were strangled to death, ME report assumes it was by hand. It takes a lot of strength and persistence to kill someone by hand like that, not only that but it’s intimate, he’s staring them in the face as he kills them. The level of care displayed here seems way more than just remorse.” 

Hotch took another moment to consider Derek’s proposition before shaking his head, “we’ll keep it in mind, but it’s clear whatever connection he has to L/N is personal, at least to him. These women could be failing to replicate some part of her personality and in his rage he kills them. But when they’re silent and unmoving, their likeness to L/N lets him fall back into the fantasy, hence the care.” 

“We should start heading back, Reid just texted me they’re almost done with the initial briefing with L/N, and we should meet her before she takes off for the day.” Derek said, putting his phone back in his pocket before turning on his heel to head back to the car. Hotch’s shoulders tensed at the idea of seeing you, looking back at the field once more. Giving the field one last look, he felt a shiver run up his spine at the idea of finding you in a field like this. Shaking the idea out of his, he turned to join Derek in the car. 

Hotch took the driver's seat, glad to be able to use the road as a needed distraction from the impending face to face. The drive was only twenty minutes, but Hotch didn’t think any time would truly be long enough to prepare himself to see you again. He found himself wondering if anything would be different from the last time he saw you. Did you still smell the same? You had always been quite adamant about your preference for scented lotion, rather than perfumes. What if you completely changed your hair? Were you worrying about seeing him as much as he was? 

“You think she’s gonna be easy to work with?” Derek asked, breaking Hotch out of his mental spiral. 

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, you know, “Hollywood’s It Girl”,” Derek explained, “if she’s as in demand as Garcia said she was-”

“While we work this case Morgan, I expect you to conduct yourself appropriately,” Hotch interjected, his voice tight, “we treat Y/N the way we would anyone else, do I make myself clear?” His eyes not leaving the road at all, knuckles tight around the steering wheel. 

“Crystal,” Derek responded, raising his hands up in mock surrender. 

As they turned into the parking lot, Hotch scanned the parking lot before finally noticing your car parked in the back of the lot. You used to always park as far as you could, constantly complaining about how people in parking lots stressed you out and you wanted to be able to drive in and out as easy as possible. The corners of his lips turned up, ever so slightly, thinking maybe nothing had really changed for you, at least in that regard. 

“You go ahead, I’m just going to send a message to Jack real quick,” Hotch lied, pulling his phone from his pocket. Derek nodded and got out of the car, quickly entering the building. Hotch put his phone down in his lap and gripped the steering wheel once more. You were one of the few people to ever wind him up this way; it had been like that from the first day he met you, as if you managed to make him melt under your gaze. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes to pull himself together before letting the Unit Chief in him take over. 

----

“I’m sorry, I just, can I take a break,” you asked, looking up at the agents who were still grilling you about facets of your life you never would’ve considered relevant, “I just need to get some air.” Without really waiting for permission, you were pushing back on your chair to stand up. Slinging on your thin jacket you exited the room, heading for the entrance of the building. The agents had been kind, but you were starting to feel a bit useless. Each time they had a new theory, you came up short in terms of material for them to actually use. They kept reassuring you that what you were able to come up with was helpful, but you weren't convinced. 

You had been in and out of this office so many times, your body went into autopilot as you made your way to the entrance, not even pausing to look up as you started to push open the door. What you missed was the distinct outline of a body pulling the door open at the same time. The added force made you stumble, nearly crashing straight into the man on the other side. Brown eyes met yours and you both froze, uncertain of what to say before speaking at the same time. 

“Y/N.”

“Agent.”

-----

a/n - wow wow! things are gonna start moving in the next chapter, i promise. the response to ‘in the stars’ so far has been so heartwarming. ive said it before, but this is my first fic and i cant even fathom that people are actually interested in what im writing. your support means the world! im trying to get stuff written before university starts up again, but i dont want to nix quality for faster updates so if updates slow down im sorry! comments always appreciated. leave a reply or ask if youd like to be added to the taglist! if you requested before but arent added, just ask again i mustve missed it on accident 

Taglist: @mac99martin​ @iwaizumiee​ @kylorendrip​ @hqtchner​ @lieswithoutfairytales​ @ssahoodrathotchner​ @midsummernightdream​ @weasleylovers​ @evans-dejong​

no permission is given to republish or upload my fics anywhere else. if you see this story not on my tumblr or ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own criminal minds or any of the characters involved

[marlahey]

under the same roof part three: all the time you need

a harry styles rpf part three of six written by annie and aj (marlahey and formerly harryonstage) ratings/warnings: disaster gays, endangered ovaries from dad!harry, women aggressively supporting women notes: enter the rest of harry’s family unit! in case anyone’s curious, annie tells sylvia to give her dad a kiss in vietnamese, to which he responds, good girl. before anyone comes for me, there will be plenty more opportunities for bed-sharing to come. side note: aj always pictured olivia coleman as officer warren.  masterlist | part one | part two | part four (21.12.20)

............................................... • saturday, 5th january 9:18 am • The second time you’re roused from sleep, sunlight illuminates Harry’s room. You lift your head, squinting, but more quickly you recognize where you are.

Harry is nowhere in sight, but a fresh glass of water is within reach on the nightstand, and a cardigan knitted with primary-colored patches lies folded at the foot of the bed. After slipping your arms through the loose sleeves, you take a few gulps of water and make sure to shut his bedroom door quietly on your way out. You hadn’t spent much time in the living room as per Officer Warren’s instructions to avoid the windows, but you can see into it from the hall. And since there’s still no sign of Harry, you take a minute to discreetly look around at the place he and his daughter call home. His flat is obviously larger than yours—he has two bedrooms versus one—but the morning light seems to stretch the space even further, like an open armed welcome. The atmosphere bustles with a little dose of chaos. Two brimming bookshelves span one wall of the living room, and plants line the windowsills. A half-sized Christmas tree stands off in the corner, wrapped in twinkly lights and strings of popcorn. A white fender guitar decorated with various stickers stands with a speaker beside the couch, and records tile the wall behind it: Pink Floyd, Fleetwood Mac, The Stones, The Cars, Hello I’m Dolly.  There is ample evidence that a child lives here, too. The walls are dotted with drawings in watercolor, crayon, and sparkles. You can see pieces of Lego strewn out on the carpet; they must be from that towering box Harry had towed into the lift a week before Christmas. A small smile tugs at your lips as you follow the smell of espresso into the kitchen. You find Harry leaning against the counter looking contemplative, holding aloft a cup of coffee that he seems to have forgotten about. He’s wearing the same shirt he’d slept in, but thrown on a pair of joggers. You bid a quiet, “Good morning.” He inhales sharply as his head whips toward you, his drink sloshing over the edge of his mug slightly. “Jesus, sorry,” he laughs softly, shaking his head at himself. You watch as he wets a dishrag and cleans the small mess. “Not really used to company my age.” “Oh… Sorry.” “S’alright.” His voice is covered in sleep; it almost sounds like he has a cold. “Coffee?” You hum appreciatively. “Love some.” “Were you able to get some sleep?” he asks, pulling a mug from the cabinet. “Enough, yeah.” All you can think about is waking up locked in his embrace, on the still-dark cusp of sunrise. “Thank you for letting me, um…” “Course. Cream?” “That’s great, thanks.” Harry nods over his shoulder towards the bedroom. “It help at all?” How are you supposed to answer that? “The real bed?” he clarifies, like it is at all necessary.  You listen to the spoon clink rhythmically against the ceramic, and settle on “I think so,” as noncommittally as possible. “How did you sleep?” “Very well.” In passing you your mug, Harry catches your eyes for the first time today in a way that feels like not an accident. “More importantly, how are you feeling about everything else?” You shrug, eyes glued to the cream swirling in your coffee. “Better, a little.” “That’s good.” “What about you?” you ask. “You’ve kinda been through the wringer, yourself.” “I’m good, yeah.” Harry pushes up his glasses. “I was thinking—if you don’t mind—I’d like to come with you to the police department this morning.”  “No, no, Harry.” You wave away the offer. “Don’t worry about that.” “No, really. It might make more sense. I saw him in the hall last night, and I was with you in the lift. They might need to ask some questions of both of us.” You consider this a moment. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” “I don’t have to,” Harry counters. “I want to. I want you to, y’know… ” he trails off. “I want them to get this guy.” You blink at him. There’s a strange feeling in knowing that Harry has clearly thought about your wellbeing beyond the night that you’ve effectively been trapped in his flat. Regardless, it’s too early for a battle of wills, and he has a point. You slouch against the fridge. “Alright. Well… I still have India’s car so I can drive us,” you concede. A smile lights Harry’s face. Suddenly your stomach rumbles so powerfully and for so long that it interrupts the conversation. You cover a small, mortified laugh with both hands as Harry’s eyebrows raise. “Well,” he begins, exaggerated. “Let’s take care of that… You take the first turn in the bathroom, I’ll fix us some breakfast.” “You sure?” “Go ahead.” He grabs a skillet from the drying rack, turning on one of the burners. “Thank you, Harry.” “It’s no problem.” You wash your face with something you find above the sink and brush your teeth on auto-pilot before considering your bundle of clothes from the night before. Your cardigan lays at the top of the stack. Four of your fingers fit through the gaping hole in its collar, and dirt covers one of the sleeves. You hadn’t forgotten about the shape it was in last night, but you didn’t consider it a problem until now, as you hold it up in front of you by the shoulders, frowning. You try to tame your hair with a purple, sparkly brush to no avail, so you take a quick look around to see if Sylvia has any spare barrettes or pins. Thankfully there’s a single hair tie floating in the bottom of your purse. You shrug back into Harry’s patchwork sweater—oddly comforting in how fully it swallows your shoulders and hands—and slip back out to the kitchen, where Harry plates grilled tomatoes and bacon. “We’re about ready to eat.” Harry turns the stovetop down to a simmer as the toaster pops. “How do you take your eggs?” “Sunny side up, please.”  He salutes you with his spatula, attention already returned to the pan.  “Can I help with anything?” Harry nods to a drawer. “Yeah can you pass us a couple napkins from just there? I’ll be right back,” he rushes, already halfway out of the kitchen. You pull a few paper napkins from their packet as he returns with two chairs that you recognize from his small wicker table. “Blinds are open in the other room, thought it might be best if we just eat in here.” He sets the chairs apart, facing one another. “Now this is living,” you deadpan. Harry laughs lightly as he gestures for you to sit. The two of you get adjusted with your plates on your lap, and your knees almost bump in the small space. “This is great, Harry. Thank you.”  “I’d make you bubble and squeak, too, but we’re fresh out and Sylvia hates beans so we don’t keep them on hand. So technically...” Harry lowers his voice to a whisper. “S’not a full English fry up.” You can only smile around your mouthful, unexpectedly endeared. The rest of breakfast passes in silence. You shouldn’t have slept on an empty stomach; you’re ravenous from skipping a meal last night.  He looks up at you eventually, a touch more serious than before. “Shall we think about heading to the police station soon?”  You dab your mouth with your napkin and nod. Harry stands from his chair and reaches an open hand down to you for your plate. “No, no,” you nudge him away with your elbow. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”  “Let me deal with these. You’re a guest.” “I’m a captive.” “No you’re not! You’re—” He breaks off, hesitating a moment before plunging on with an amused slant to his lips. “You’re my sort-of friend.” Your assumption he hadn’t overheard that comment to your mother last night on the phone was clearly in vain. You press your lips together against any inadvertent reaction. Your head swivels toward him, eyes full of lighthearted reproach. “Look, just let me do the dishes to give myself the illusion that I’m not just a freeloader here. Besides, I’m already ready to go.” "Fine,” he caves disapprovingly. “I’ll get myself sorted and be out in a minute.” “Take your time.” While Harry is preoccupied, you finish slotting the clean plates from breakfast carefully into the drying rack and pull out your phone to message India. Hey, I have a lot to update you on but it’ll be much easier to explain in person. I still have your car and I need it for one thing this morning but I promise I’ll fill the tank ASAP. It’s about the guy that’s been following me. Just know that I’m safe and everything’s okay. I’ll call you when I can. Love you. Send. That’ll have to do for now. Harry returns in jeans and a sweater. It’s still strange to see him so dressed down. “Ready?” he asks. “Yeah. You mind if I wear this to the police station?” you ask, pinching the fabric of his cardigan. You feel the urge to explain yourself—the hole in your sweater, the grime—but Harry’s already shaking his head. “Not at all. Do you maybe want something a little less… loud? I don’t even wear that one out, myself, really.”  You consider the bright cacophony of color like it’s brand new to your eyes. Loud is right. “Yeah, that’s not a terrible idea.”  Harry’s lips twitch. “C’mon then. You’re welcome to pick anything you’d like.” Pick? You nod because you’re worried the surprise is painted on your face. “Okay.” Harry leads you to his bedroom again, and over to the large wooden wardrobe.  He pulls the double doors open and you cannot help yourself from gawking a little. You’re taken by all the exquisite patterns and intricate textures of the suits, but it’s oddly wistful to run your fingertips along all of them hung in a row. You smile privately, a bit removed. “What?” Harry laughs from behind you. “Nothing!” you reply, glancing over your shoulder before saying more softly, “I just recognize some of these.” “Oh, thought you were sizing them up. My mates all take the piss… They say my suits are eccentric.” He rolls his eyes, reciting the insult like he’s quoting their words verbatim. You turn back around to his closet. “I think they look nice—I think you look nice in them.” You take a step back and crane your neck to the shelf of folded sweaters above the hanging rod. The extensive array of muted wool and cotton is a bit overwhelming. You spot the planet sweater he’d worn the first time you saw Sylvia, the oversized yellow one that reminded you of Charlie Brown, the black one with half a red heart and the letters, NY in bold white text… It takes a minute of jogging your memory before you can recall him wearing something more plain. Harry doesn’t own a lot of plain. You still can’t quite reach the shelf up on your tiptoes, but Harry is at your side immediately. “The brown?” He tugs it from the stacks and passes it down. “Yeah, thanks.” You examine the camel colored fabric with tiny flecks of black thread, and run your hand along the smooth purl. “This should do.” You tug the sweater over your head; it’s boxy, your arms aren’t long enough to fit, and it isn’t doing any favors for your shoulders. You have to roll the sleeves up past your wrists before the outfit can half pass as something you purposely wore out of the house. You spin around to face him. “Does it look normal?” Harry’s jaw flexes as he gives you the up-down. You fiddle with one of the sleeves. “Yeah,” Harry says stiffly. “Looks normal.” It’s bizarre walking through the level six hallway; it’s identical to your own, but the last time you’d been here, everything down to the carpet and light fixtures had been tainted by your deafening fear. What’s more is that riding down in the lift with Harry feels entirely different now. You see it all from his perspective, and try to visualize what you look like to him most mornings, standing in the corner with your school bag and a book tucked beneath your arm. The lift picks up a few people on its way down, but by the time it reaches the garage, you and Harry are alone. You catch his eyes in the reflection of the doors a second before they open. He clears his throat. “I know it’s probably… we’ll be fine, but stay close, yeah?” You look up at him and nod. It’s easy to keep to your word. Harry guides you to walk in front of him the entire way as your eyes scan the shadows in between the rows of cars. You’re sure you will never be able to see this garage quite the same way. “It’s the old Volkswagen.” “I see it.” You’re so out of it that you almost try to get in on the passenger side. It’s the kind of slip up that Harry might have teased you about, but he’s quiet and looking around, too. You pull the jacket you’d left on the seat last night into your lap, the two of you strap in, and you cannot pull out into the street fast enough. The mustard yellow envelope in the back seat is an unwelcome passenger, visible in your rearview mirror.  Who else knew about these photos? How many are there that weren’t in your envelope? Are they online somewhere? Would they follow you to law school? Your grip tightens on the steering wheel as you grind your teeth. “Alright?” Harry asks. His voice brings you back down to earth. He’d asked you that question when you pricked your finger on the poppy in your jacket pocket. He’d asked you in his bed on the most terrifying night of your life. And he’s asking you now. You nod. “I will be.” • saturday, 5th january 10:42 am • In the parking lot behind Lavender Hill Police Station, you’ve killed the engine but remain in your seat. Part of you is still reluctant to have Harry come along; keeping your composure in front of the police feels hard enough without the prospect of him being there, too, but maybe that’s the one thing that will get you through this. “Sorry.” You shake your head, suddenly aware of how long you’ve been sitting motionless at the wheel. Harry’s gaze is unperturbed. He watches you push anxiously at the sleeves of his sweater. “Take all the time you need.” It’s the same phrase the initial officer who’d taken your statement all those weeks ago had used. It’s what Officer Warren had said to you on the phone last night, and you’re so tired of hearing it. You don’t want to have as much time as you need to feel calm or steady or normal again. You want your time back. You want to reclaim all those extra seconds spent checking over your shoulder, the minutes lost to changing your routes, and the hours spent staring up at the ceiling when you should have been asleep. Rationally, you know that there will be time to relearn how to walk down the street and feel at ease, and plan that trip to Brighton you and India have been talking about for months. There will be time with Harry that isn’t this… stuck in a cramped space, crushed by the weight of your own fear. You hate the way you felt with him in the lift this morning; you want that back most of all. “Faster we get in there,” you say—half to Harry, half to yourself, “the faster we’ll get to leave.” Harry nods. “C’mon then.” The heather grey of the building is no less intimidating than it was in October, but at least this time you don’t have to pull the heavy glass doors open on your own. Inside, you speak with the woman at reception, who gestures for you to sit in a small waiting area just beyond the desk. People in uniform bustle back and forth. Harry’s leg brushes against yours as you sit. He doesn’t move. Neither do you. You have no sense of how long you sit waiting—this doesn’t feel like a place where it’s appropriate to play Solitaire on your phone. You can feel Harry looking at you periodically, but you don’t glance back until a woman with a familiar voice appears before you. She ushers you to follow with a quick, professional smile. Harry doesn’t quite offer the same, but you’re reassured anyway. “I’m Officer Warren.” She stops at a desk with an empty chair beside it. You take care to shake her hand firmly, introducing yourself with all the confidence you can scrap together. “Are you comfortable sitting here?” “Yes, this is fine.” If either Harry or Officer Warren notice your voice is an octave higher, neither of them make any sign. “Good.” She reaches past you to shake Harry’s hand too. “Harry.” “Nice to meet you both. We can also find a conference room, if you’d like somewhere more private, or if you’d both like to sit.” Harry speaks up when you don’t right away. “I’m fine standing.” He looks exactly as he had in the car—calm and willing to take your lead, so you sit before you can change your mind. Officer Warren smiles again, clearly trying to put you at ease. You wish it was more effective. “Right, well I won’t take up too much of your time. Since I took your statement last night, I’ve already got a copy of the transcript from our conversation over the phone, and you won’t need to go over all of that again.” Your shoulders cave a little in relief. Harry’s fingers hook gently over the top of your chair. “Okay.” “But,” she continues, “there is the matter of how to proceed. What we talked about regarding your flat still stands… it really isn’t safe for you to remain there, especially since the suspect seems to know which one is yours, and we still don’t have a clear idea of where he is now, or how he was able to access the car park in your building in the first place.” “So…” You shake your head, in either confusion or denial. “I can’t even go home?” “I’m afraid not, for the time being.” Her eyes are soft, regretful. “Not if he knows where you live. Not if there’s a chance he could get more photographs, or try to break in again.” Your stomach twists. “Were you able to figure out who he is?” You’re not even sure you want to know. Officer Warren’s mouth pinches apologetically. “Not yet. We have a couple technicians working on the security footage and the photos you’ve turned in, so hopefully we’ll be able to get something from them. The car he was driving had no plates. You haven’t seen any sign of him since we spoke last?” You shake your head, and she glances up at Harry as if to confirm. “Alright, that’s a good sign at least. He knows we’re watching, now. On the other hand, there’s a chance he’ll carry on, but be stealthier about it. Is it possible for you to physically stay inside, completely out of sight for let’s say, a week?” “I mean… where?” “Do you have somewhere else you can stay for the time being? With a friend?” You open your mouth, but the “Yes,” is not your own. You force yourself not to turn back to look at him; Harry’s fingers touch your shoulder again. “Yes, she does. She can stay with me. We live in the same building after all, so it’ll hardly be disruptive.” Officer Warren gives him a long look. You can’t tell if she approves or is displeased with him for speaking for you, but now that the initial shock has worn off, gratitude washes over you. Asking India to stay with her indefinitely would have been out of the question; there’s no way you’re endangering your best friend any more than you already have. You’d be putting her in a position where she couldn’t say no. She has four roommates. She doesn’t even know about the photos yet.  “That works,” you hear yourself say. This will only be for a few days, you reason—it’ll buy you just enough time to find your feet. By then, you can sort out a longer-term place to stay if the police still haven’t found the man. Officer Warren is speaking again, and it takes effort to actively refocus on the conversation. “The objective here is to make it seem as though you’re gone. On holiday. He’ll be keeping an eye on the building, no doubt, so he’ll notice if the car is gone, or your flat is empty. Is there any way you can take your classes remotely?” You find you can barely speak, so you just nod instead.  She leans in a little, her eyes finding yours more carefully. “I know it’s frightening, but you’ve been incredibly strong. This won’t be forever. In the meantime, we can send an officer back with you this afternoon so you can gather a few of your things.” You nod again. “Do you have any questions for me?” You force yourself to say, “No, thank you,” which Harry echoes. Officer Warren nods, almost perfunctorily, and stands. “If you wait here just a minute, I’ll introduce you to the officer who’ll take you back to your flat. You’ll be in an unmarked car, and we can arrange for yours to be retrieved.” “Thank you. I’ll call my friend now,” you say. “Maybe she can… I'll have to ask her to look after my cat. And it’s her car, anyway.” Officer Warren nods, apparently satisfied.  You shake her hand again, though your mind is stuck on this won’t be forever. As you rise from the chair, you feel the gentle pressure of Harry’s hand on the small of your back. When Officer Warren returns with another uniformed policeman, you don’t want to move, but your legs carry you anyway. Harry’s gaze finds the side of your face periodically like a lighthouse beam while you call India from the backseat of the police car. After reassuring her again that you’re fine, you gloss over the details of staying in Harry’s flat. You can tell even in her silence that she’s not going to let you off the hook that easily, so you start rambling about what to do with Chowder before she gets the chance to say something embarrassing while Harry is sitting right there. “Of course I’m taking Chowder,” she says before you get the chance to phrase the question. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ll get in a cab right now. Do you need help packing up?” “Yeah sure, thank you. But what about your car?” “I’ll take the keys from you and get it after. Honestly, it’s fine. It’s not like it’s gonna get stolen from the bloody police station.” It’s a stupid joke but you’re comforted a little anyway. “Okay.” “Be there soon. I love you.” “Love you too.” Harry glances over at you. “Everything okay?” “Yeah.” You smile a little and for the first time in ages, it doesn’t feel forced. “She’s gonna meet us at home and take Chowder for me.” “That’s great.” “I know,” you reply, a little distant. “Harry, thank you for coming with me… It was nice not to have to, y’know, do that alone.” “That’s alright.” His voice is equally gentle. “We’re gonna… They’re gonna find him. And they’re gonna fix this, and then everything’s gonna go back to normal.” You aren’t sure which of you he’s trying to reassure, but Harry meets your eyes and you nod. Back at your building, you meet up with India. “Think I might just pop home, if that’s alright,” Harry says, going in for the sixth-floor button on the keypad. “I told Annie a bit about what’s going on, but I owe her an update.” “Of course.” You look up at him in the reflection of the doors. “We’ll see you down there.” It’s your first time seeing the dent and scratches on the door to your flat in person. You shiver, turn the key, and push the door open.  “Chowder!” you shout as a flash of orange darts through your legs, meowing down the hall. The officer’s hand lands reflexively on his baton as your cat scares all three of you half to death. Once you manage to corral your cat back to your corner of the hallway, you struggle to keep him still in your arms. “Indy, his crate is under my bed—” “Hold off a minute, I’m going to do a quick walkthrough. I’m sure everything’s fine, but wait out here.” The officer leaves the door cracked open behind him. India offers a small, encouraging smile when you flinch at the sound of him announcing himself in your apartment. You stroke between Chowder’s ears; he is heavy and warm in your arms, and his fur sticks uncomfortably to the sweat on your palms. “All clear.” The officer reappears. “Let’s try to be quick about this.” India immediately ducks through the door following him, but you have to take a deep breath before stepping through the threshold. The place looks completely untouched. Had you been expecting company, perhaps you would have thought to clear the dishes from the sink or remove your laundry from the drying rack. After coercing an unusually talkative Chowder into his travel crate, you and India work as a team to stuff as much into your duffel bag as will fit. Shirts, bras, and pants hurtle past your head. “Indy, I’m staying at a neighbor’s for a few days—what on earth am I going to need this for?” You hold up the silk, strappy dress that just landed on your neatly-folded stacks, shooting her a disapproving look. “I’m just grabbing and throwing!” “Well just, y’know… let’s make sure we’re not speeding through this at the expense of packing with a little common sense.” “I’ve got this,” India says, waving down at the open duffel. “Go sort whatever toiletries you need, yeah?” Thankfully you’ve stayed overnight at her place enough times to warrant a travel case of essentials that lives under your bathroom sink. There’s makeup cluttered all over the counter. You stare at it a moment before rolling your eyes at yourself. “We should probably get going.” The officer’s voice from the other room startles you both as India zips up your duffel. “Are you two about ready?”  As you stick your head out of your bedroom, the officer is peeking through the blinds across the street. “Yes,” you reply. “We are.” Overnight bag and Chowder in tow, you clamber back onto the lift. “Did you get your toothbrush?” “Yes.” “Face wash?” “Yes.” “Pillow?” “Indy, you saw me putting it in—” “Towel?” “Yes.” “Phone charger?” “… Shit.” Ding. The officer steps out with you on the sixth floor as you thank him, and bid a quick goodbye once he reassures you to call if you need anything or, of course, if anything happens. India turns to face you next. “He’s this way.” You nod down the hall, and she leads. “It’s right at the end. The one with the wreath.” The doors of the lift close. You don’t want to think about the last time you’d been walking down this corridor and heard that sound from behind you. India moves aside holding Chowder’s crate by the handle, and the shopping bag full of his supplies as you step up to the welcome mat with your things. Harry swings open the door to his apartment after the second knock, immediately taking the duffel bag from off of your shoulder. “Oh, Harry, you don’t have to—” “I got it.” India elbows you in the ribs. Harry turns to carry your bag to Sylvia's room, and when you look behind at her, her eyebrows are raised above an animated smirk. “Don’t,” you whisper through gritted teeth. She raises a hand in defense as Harry returns before reaching out to accept his offered hand. “Hello, I’m India.” “Harry.”  “Pleasure.” He flashes her a warm smile. She nods appreciatively as they shake hands—at you, however, instead of Harry and your cheeks ignite. “Okay great. That’s settled then. Shall we—um… Indy?” You cut in, then turn to her, nodding to the door with I’m going to kill you in your eyes. “Lovely to meet you, Harry!” “Cheers, dear. You as well.” Harry’s attention returns to you for a moment. “I’ll just be…” He gestures vaguely to the kitchen. You step out into the hall with India. Chowder meows from the crate in her arms and she almost drops him. “What,” you hiss, “was that?”  She ignores your tone, then says your name like it’s a plea. “Call me if you need absolutely anything, or text me—no matter what time it is. I’ll drop everything and come straight to you.” “I’m sleeping two floors below where I usually do, Indy, I’m not dying.” “I know, I know… How’s a Skype dinner tomorrow night? I’ll order us a take away.” “Definitely.” You wish you could squeeze her in another tight hug, but Chowder’s crate impedes you. “Thank you.” “Love you, babe.” “Love you too.” She looks unsatisfied. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. Text me when we’re eating, okay?” You begin to walk backward into Harry’s apartment and blow her a kiss. “I will… Bye!” “Please don’t kill my cat!” You lean on the door frame, watching India’s silhouette shrink as she heads back down the hall to the lift with Chowder. You sigh and close the door, but as you turn around, your hand rushes to your chest in a gasp; Harry is standing just behind you, rubbing his face. “So I’ve just rung Annie while you were upstairs… ” He steps aside to give you a clear path through the hallway. “Oh?” “I’m sorry—they’re just coming,” he rushes, sounding a little panicked as you step into Sylvia's room. You set your phone and laptop down with the rest of your things. “They insisted ‘cause they’ve got a spare mattress, and I told them you needed a place to crash for a bit and also that you stayed here last night so… yeah. You don’t have to be here for that. When they come—oh, and they probably have Sylvia, too, if that’s… ” Harry trails off.” “Wait, I’m sorry.” You close your eyes and shake your head. “Annie? You mean—” “Sylvia’s mum, yeah, and um… her fiancé, AJ.” Harry tilts his head down, as if to gauge your reaction. “And they want to give… they have a spare mattress? But you already have a mattress.” “That’s what I said!” Harry gestures wildly. It must have been a lively phone call. “Oh, well that’s… awfully kind of them,” you begin, trying to keep up. “Would it be easier if I wasn’t—” “No.” He’s clearly surprised at his own volume as he cuts you off. Harry literally leans back, hesitating. “I mean… stay. They’d love to meet you. They’re my family and you’re…” His eyes flit back to yours and hang on. “You’re obviously gonna to be staying here a bit, and they drop by all the time so I jus’ don’t wanna overwhelm you, is all.” Suddenly, it’s your turn struggling to look at him. “Well, I—” “H, open the door! This is heavy!” a voice bellows from beyond the front door. Harry’s eyes shut momentarily. “Coming!” he calls. You stand there, in the doorway to Sylvia’s room, stunned at the pace with which this is all unfolding. Harry jogs to the door. You poke your head out as an explosion of noise disrupts what had before been so peaceful. A child’s high-pitched shriek rips through the flat, followed by a long, labored groan from Harry as Sylvia barrels into his arms and he crouches down to lift her. “How’s Daddy’s girl?” he greets. Sylvia simply continues screaming and tries to bend over backward out of his arms. “Hi, Harry.” A striking woman with jet-black hair waltzes in, carrying a large dish of food wrapped in tin foil, seemingly unphased. Harry shifts Sylvia to one arm, bending over to greet her in a side hug and quick kiss to the cheek. “Hi, love.” What appears to be a twin sized mattress with twig legs follows in suit, grunting softly. “Still heavy.” “Right, sorry.” Harry hands Sylvia off to who you assume is Annie as he hurries to take the mattress, revealing a second, much taller woman with sunglasses atop her blonde head of hair. She’s wearing red lipstick and bright suede pumps. “There we go,” she sighs. “I need a fag.” Harry almost takes out a light fixture as he hauls the bed. You press yourself up against the wall as he offers a quick, “S’cuse me,” and passes you to Sylvia's room. The two women look at you as simultaneous smiles light their faces. “Hi!” “Hello!” Sylvia waves at you, too. “Guess this one doesn’t need an introduction,” the dark-haired woman laughs, approaching with a hand extended. You notice that she’s the one wearing the ring. “I’m Annie.” “It’s great to meet you, Harry has spoken so highly of both of you.” You turn to the other woman after introducing yourself. “AJ.” One corner of her mouth quirks up. “It’s a pleasure.” “Thank you so much for the mattress, ” you begin, wringing your hands. “It seems like everyone’s done so much to help me in the past few days… It’s really meant a lot.” AJ tilts her head to look at you with a more meaningful gaze, and Annie steps forward to rest a hand on your forearm. “Harry hasn’t gone into a terrible amount of detail but… we’re so, awfully sorry for what’s happened to you.” She squeezes gently, her fingers in the crook of your elbow. The strange familiarity of the gesture disarms you. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through, and with your family so far away—I just… we heard about what was going on, and that was it. We had to help.” You nod and suddenly have trouble swallowing. There’s just something different about discussing this with women. “Harry’s air mattress,” AJ chips in, sardonic, “belongs in an incinerator.” “Hey!” His voice comes muted from the open door of Sylvia’s bedroom. Now that you’ve seen the both of them together up close, you realize how wrong you were in thinking that Sylvia only took after her father. Annie’s features are evident in her daughter’s deep, brown eyes, her nose, and the high angles of her cheeks.  “Well,” Annie starts, raising her eyebrows at everyone, “we’re obviously feeding you.” You laugh in disbelief. “No you’re not!” “We are!” She smiles as she sets Sylvia down, who weaves through everyone’s legs to her bedroom. “And relax, it’s already cooked so there’s no use in turning it down.” AJ pulls you in for a side hug, which you were grossly unprepared for. “Thank… you.” In your bewilderment, it’s all you can manage to say as Annie removes the tin foil from a full pan’s helping of chicken and vegetables. “Isn’t this supposed to be tomorrow’s roast? The Sunday roast?” Harry appears in the kitchen with Sylvia on his hip. He frowns, poking his head over Annie’s shoulder as she preheats the oven. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies. They lock eyes. Something tender passes between them; part of you feels like you should look away. “Annie… ” Harry says, softer now. “You didn’t have to do all this.” She ignores him, setting the timer on the oven as AJ slides a small mountain of tupperware into the fridge. The kettle starts to scream. You hadn’t realized someone started tea. You’re not sure what to do besides stand by the sink and stare. AJ rushes over to fill four steaming mugs, portioning different amounts of cream and honey into each. She turns to the few stray dishes in the sink, beginning to wash. “AJ, stop tha—” “Harry, relax would you?” She whips his leg with a dish towel and he relents. “Why is she staying in my room?” Sylvia pipes up from Harry’s arms. He looks across the kitchen at you, and then down to her. “Well see, bug, Daddy’s got a friend who’s gonna stay here for a little while.” Harry points at you and twists so she has a better view. You wave your fingers at her, and Harry asks Sylvia if she can say your name, but she simply buries her face into his sweater. “Like a slumber party?” “Um—” Harry falters. “Sort of, but not quite.” “It’s a grown-up slumber party?” AJ chokes on her tea. The tips of Harry’s ears go crimson.  “Honey, it’s like when Auntie Kristen comes over to Mummy and Mum’s to stay on holiday,” Annie salvages. Harry’s shoulders visibly relax.  Sylvia tugs at the collar of Harry’s sweater. “How long?” she begs. Your heart falls. “‘M not sure, Vi.” Harry moves some hair from her face as she pouts, then kisses her forehead. “Not forever.” “This’ll be good for you, Harry. You need more friends.” Annie pinches Harry’s side before turning to you with a smirk. “Maybe you can finally start hanging out with people your own age.” You shrug to play along, pursing your lips against a smile. “I mean… ” “Harry doesn’t go out much.” Annie’s comedic whisper fills the room as she carries your tea over to you. “Neither do you!” Harry retorts, frowning playfully over his shoulder, attempting to smack her; she narrowly dodges. “Yeah, just the one time,” AJ deadpans, pointing between them and then nodding to Sylvia. “Jesus Christ,” Harry breathes before they break into laughter. You can’t help but join in. Sylvia’s head swings from parent to parent, smiling in oblivious delight. “Alright, alright,” Annie wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “Just leave the roast in there until you’re ready to eat. We should get going soon.” “Have you got sheets that fit the bed?” Harry asks, bouncing Sylvia on his hip. “Right!” Annie’s eyes go wide. She turns to AJ, “Darling, you mind popping down to the car to get those?” “Since I already hauled up the mattress, am I allowed to play the gender card?” AJ throws eyes at Harry. “Hands are full,” he replies cheerfully. He holds one of Sylvia’s arms up to wave. “Fine,” she relents, plucking the keys from Annie’s back pocket. “Thank you!” Annie calls after her. AJ simply waves a hand behind her head. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while later!” AJ begins to walk faster. Harry shoots Annie a jokingly scandalized look with a hand covering his gaping mouth. She squints at him and rolls her eyes. He puts Sylvia down, whispering in her ear as he points to the miniature arts and crafts table in the living room.  Sylvia takes a seat on the colorful stool, her tiny features already pinched in concentration as she finds a crayon and begins to draw. Harry crouches at her side, watching her for a moment before kissing the top of her head. He breezes past you before you hear the bathroom door lock shut and now it’s just you and Annie alone together. “I love Harry, but he’s a man and he doesn’t know anything.” You shouldn’t laugh, but you do. “We live ten minutes away. If you need anything at all—anything, I mean it, please call us. Mine and AJ’s mobile numbers are both on the fridge.” “Thank you, Annie.” She hesitates, playing absently with the tag of her tea bag before nodding to the living room. “Let’s sit.” You have a seat on the couch; Annie takes the small leather armchair on the other side of the coffee table. Her eyes are warm. You see a flash of that expression that had passed between her and Harry. “He is a good man.” Annie’s voice is so low, it’s almost a whisper. “One of the best I’ve ever met… You’re in good hands, I promise.” There isn’t a chance for you to respond as the sound of the faucet running in the bathroom interrupts. Harry re-enters the living room, his eyes flitting between yours and Annie’s with a curious look on his face. “Am I interrupting something?” “Course not, lovely. We’re just waiting for AJ with the sheets,” Annie replies. She must be killer at poker. AJ slips through the door with a folded bundle of checkered sheets nearly covering her face. “Miss me?” She perches on the armrest of Annie’s chair upon returning from Syvia’s room, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. You are acutely aware of the warmth of Harry’s leg against yours, suddenly too nervous to shift and potentially draw attention to it. Though you try hard not to, you can practically see the silent conversation happening between the three other adults in the room; if you had to guess, it’s probably about you. You categorically refuse to look at Harry, so you’re left with AJ’s nearly imperceptible eyebrow-raising, and a curl of Annie’s lip that seems to be a question and a confirmation all at once. The three of them are a little… too quiet. “Well we should be off then,” she says, drawing her hands together in a clap. “Someone needs a bath tonight.”  Sylvia hurries over and locks her arms around Harry’s legs. He scoops her up like she weighs absolutely nothing. “C’mon now, angel,” he murmurs, glancing over his daughter’s head to look at you with a vaguely resigned expression. “Gonna see you tomorrow, aren’t I? Gotta be good for your mums.” Harry fixes Sylvia’s wobbling lower lip with a stern look. “Hey, now. What’s this about? S’not any different from Mummy’s normal turn with you, right? You know you’ve got too much love pumpkin, we gotta share ya.” Sylvia mumbles something too soft to make out; Harry ducks his head close. “Tell me?” You don’t catch all the words, except, “stars.” His face crumples a bit. “Oh honey, of course you’ll still have your bedtime stars. They’re not going anywhere. Nobody’s gonna take your stars.” “And that sounds like the beginning of a meltdown,” Annie says, standing quickly and pulling Sylvia from Harry’s arms. “Best be on our way before she tests all our eardrums.” Sylvia momentarily seems like she might reach back for him, but then she looks at you as though by accident, and shrinks back into her mother’s arms. Shame knots in your stomach as the two women head for the door. Sylvia peeks over Annie’s shoulder as AJ slings her purse over her arm with the car keys in hand. You busy yourself clearing the empty mugs of tea in some small attempt to give them privacy. “Come ‘round about six, yeah?” Annie says as AJ waves at you and disappears first out the door. Harry is sliding Sylvia’s arm through the second sleeve of her coat. His and Annie’s teamwork seems fluid and practiced. “Sounds good.” He tugs her tiny knit hat more securely over her curls. “Love you, bug.” “Hôn ba đi, Vi.”  You have no idea what Annie’s just said to Sylvia but Harry leans forward to receive his daughter’s kiss, placing an audible one on her forehead in return.  He says something else to Sylvia that’s not English. That deeply tender look in Annie’s face returns. Harry’s hand falls to her waist and she touches his jaw to place a quick peck at the corner of his mouth. “Call us if you need anything.” She turns back to you. “You too. Our numbers are—” “On the fridge,” you finish with a smile, waving. “Thank you, Annie.” Harry shuts the door behind them and the flat falls silent for the first time in what feels like ages. You hear him laugh once before he turns to you. “Sorry about that.” “No. Harry, I should be the one apologizing. Sylvia’s so upset, I feel awful.” Harry looks from you to the door and back again, shaking his head as he moves towards the kitchen. “Oh no, don’t worry about that. She was mostly tired, is all. Happens all the time.” He pauses before joking, “Sorry you had to hear my really terrible Vietnamese.” You watch as he begins to rifle through the cabinets. “What are you doing?” “I’m sure I left it in here somewhere—aha!” He holds an empty mason jar aloft before grabbing a sharpie and the magnetic pad of Hello Kitty sticky notes from the fridge door. Harry scrawls quickly, the cap of the pen between his teeth, before sticking a note on the glass and holding it up for you to read the big, block letters. APOLOGIES.

[eddieeatsass]

On the Edge of an Avalanche

Summary: Graduation was upon them and Eddie Kaspbrak was eager to leave Derry behind. His one last hurrah would be the senior ski trip, earning him an escape from his mother and the looming stress of college admissions. It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, until he got slated to look after resident pain-in-everyone’s-ass, Richie Tozier. Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak Rating: E Chapter: 3/5 Read Chapter 2 Here  /  Read on AO3

The next morning felt like a slow-motion scene unravelling before him. Eddie had spent most of the night replaying the events that him and Richie had engaged in, dissecting it for all he could and trying to figure out what it all meant. He hadn’t fallen asleep until the birds were waking up, singing a morning song that rang more like a lullaby to Eddie’s tired ears.

  The first time he woke he felt a warmth pressing up against his back, arms curling around his torso, and smelled sickly-sweet cinnamon that was unfamiliar but undeniably soothing. He fell back asleep not long after.

  The second time Eddie woke he felt rustling beside him, a gentle press to his cheek, and just barely heard something whispered. He never opened his eyes, sleep already pulling him back in.

  The final time he woke that morning was very different from the others; a booming voice announcing an arrival had shaken him out of slumber and almost out of bed.

    “JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE SHIT-” Eddie clutched his blankets in a death grip, holding them up higher as if they could shield him from the onslaught.

  “Wakey wakey Eds and bakey!”

  Eddie groaned internally, already upset at his body for having such a visceral reaction to the sound of Richie’s voice even while it was so tired, and Richie was so loud. Did he have any self respect?

  Eddie peered out from behind his sheets, eyes meeting a ruffled bed head and an early morning smile.

  Okay, maybe Eddie didn’t need self respect when Richie looked that good.

  “I brought breakfast.” Richie stated, holding the plates up as a peace offering.

  Eddie didn’t even have to think before he scooted over, making room for Richie and patting the open spot.

  Richie hobbled over, handing one of the over-stacked plates to Eddie and plopping himself down with a small “oof”.

  Choosing to avoid the elephant in the room for a while longer, Eddie speared what he assumed to be an egg with his fork. He couldn’t be certain, as Richie had coated everything on both plates with a healthy serving of hollandaise sauce.

  “How’s the ankle?” Eddie asked tentatively.

  “’s fine.” Richie said through a mouthful of food. His cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk, but rather than being off-putting, it was annoyingly charming.

  “You really shouldn’t be walking on it.” Eddie mentioned.

  “I’ve had worse.” Richie shrugged, as if that was supposed to be comforting to Eddie.

  “Where did you get the food?” Eddie asked, changing the subject once again to avoid the hovering topic. It was well past breakfast time, and Eddie knew the buffets were never open past 9am.

  “I snuck into the kitchen.” Richie shrugged, as if that were a totally normal thing to do.

  “What- Richie! You could have gotten in trouble!”

  “But I didn’t.” Richie smirked triumphantly.

  “Anyone could have caught you! And you could have been sent home, or worse, the staff could have called the police! I mean it is technically stealing, and trespassing, and could probably be charged as breaking and entering, and-”

  Eddie was cut off by a fork full of food being shoveled into his open mouth. A fork that wasn’t his fork. A fork that had been in someone else’s mouth, that should have grossed him out, that should have sounded off the alarm in his head. But instead, the fork sat in his mouth as nothing more than a slight inconvenience; not a trigger for his neuroses or a reason to grab his mouthwash, just a fork. What kind of spell did this boy have over him!?

  “Now chew.” Richie ordered, pulling his fork out and leaving the food to sit inside Eddie’s mouth. He did as he was told, chewing a few times and swallowing the food that, in any other case, would have disgusted him.

  “There. Now, do you hear any sirens outside?”

  “No, but-”

  “Is your body getting ready to violently regurgitate everything?”

  “No-”

  “Then just enjoy the food, spaghetti man.”

  Richie said it like it was so easy… And maybe it was. Eddie could be a bit rebellious, couldn’t he? Richie had gone out of his way to get them breakfast, no matter how irresponsible it had been, and Eddie had done nothing but complain. He hadn’t even thanked Richie. Besides, how was it any different from when Eddie snuck into the school’s kitchen to get Stan his special lunch?

  The difference, Eddie realized with his heart skipping a beat, was that Eddie didn’t care much about his own wellbeing. The wellbeing of Richie, however, was a completely new ballgame, and Eddie suddenly found himself at bat.

  “Sorry, it’s hard for me to keep my anxiety in check sometimes.” Eddie admitted, poking around his plate and eating a few more bites. Admittedly, the food was really good.

  “Hey, no need to apologize, I get it.” Richie assured, shooting Eddie a smile that melted him to the core. “Just know that I’d never put you in any real danger.” Richie added with an honesty that watered something warm and vibrant in Eddie’s chest.

  And somehow, Eddie knew that was true. Richie might be reckless at times, but he wasn’t stupid, and he protected those he cared about.

  Eddie wondered if he was in that category now.

    Before Eddie could dwell on it any longer, there was a knock at their door followed by Mr. Daniels’ voice giving them a half hour before they head out. It seemed that while Eddie had been busy sleeping in, the bus had been repaired and returned to their motel.

    As they filed into the vehicle, Eddie noticed that the teachers had switched buses for the day. Mr. Daniels made no mention of the seating arrangements (to which there had been more changes than just Richie and Stanley). This, of course, resulted in absolute mayhem as everyone that had been assigned to different seats now reverted to their original spots. As a result, the bus soon returned back to its chaos.

  Eddie glanced over at Richie, his fingers twitching as he held himself back from reaching out and clutching Richie’s arm to keep him close. Of course, Eddie wouldn’t mind sitting with Stan again, but he’d grown attached to Richie, and even though he felt like they were treading unfamiliar waters now thanks to last night’s unspoken tryst, he still wanted to be close to him.

    The bus hadn’t started moving yet, so kids were still flying from row to row, taking advantage of their newfound freedom thanks to Mr. Daniels more lax approach at chaperoning. Eddie bit at his fingernail as he watched Richie out of the corner of his eye, too afraid to speak but just as afraid to take his gaze off him.

  Richie, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware as he happily tapped away at something on his phone. His shoulders were hunched forward in poor posture and he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, now wrinkled from sleeping in them, but he was still the picture of beauty as far as Eddie was concerned.

  Eddie got caught staring as Richie’s head turned without warning, but it was only met with a smile and an endeared laugh.

  “Is it cool if I switch with Stanley for a bit? Bill’s been harping on me for not texting him back all night, that clingy son of a bitch.” Richie held up his phone as evidence, even though the screen was black and gave Eddie no hint as to the topic of their conversation.

  He hoped in equal parts that it was and wasn’t about him.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Eddie tried to feign indifference but overshot and ended up sounding rude. He winced at his own tone of voice and swallowed back the urge to apologize immediately.

  “Uhh, okay.” Richie seemed confused, but his face stayed open and inviting despite the quirk in his brow. Liquid lapis eyes training on Eddie for a beat longer than necessary before he was hopping up and heading down the isle.

    As soon as Richie was gone, Eddie let his head fall against the frostbitten window with a thunk, his eyes closing instinctively as he retreated inside his brain.

  He was exhausted, both physically from lack of sleep, and emotionally from all these new unfamiliar emotions. It’s not that Eddie had never had crushes before; there was Steven from summer camp, Harry who worked at the bookstore, and Isaac who’d been their mechanic for six years, and had taken Eddie under his wing after his father died.

  However, of all the infatuations Eddie had had, Richie was the first one that actually made sense. Steven had been too far away, and straight. Harry had been too busy, and straight. Isaac had been too old, and straight. But Richie… well, he lived in the same city, wasn’t bogged down by work, and was the same age as Eddie… and was… possibly not straight?

  Eddie felt the seat dip beside him, but refused to open his eyes. Call it a protest of the outside world for being too confusing, he’d open his eyes again when someone had the answers for him.

  “Hey.”

  Okay, well maybe Stan would have the answers.

  Eddie grumbled his greeting, pulling his body away from the window only to let it slump the other way, right into Stanley’s shoulder. He wavered a bit at the sudden impact but righted himself quickly, supporting Eddie’s weight easily.

  “So, are you the reason Richie’s walking with a limp today?”

  “WHAT?” Eddie’s head shot up, his brain working in overdrive to try and wipe his slate clean, erase any sign of culpability. Did Stan know what they’d done? Did everyone know what they’d done? Oh my god, Richie told someone and now everyone was going to know that they-

  “I mean, I just assumed Richie crossed the line at some point and you had to deliver some swift Kaspbrak karate moves to shut him up.” Stan held his hand up in fists and, with delayed relief, Eddie realized Stan was making a joke.

  Eddie let his head fall back into the cushiness of Stan’s shoulder, his body somehow even more drained than it had been thirty seconds ago. Eddie wasn’t fully certain how he planned on getting through today.

  “He was actually really respectful.” Eddie responded. He didn’t realize it was so out of character until Stan fell quiet, followed by a prodding question.

  “Are you okay?”

  There it was, the question Eddie couldn’t even answer for himself. Was he okay? He didn’t feel okay, but nothing had actually gone wrong, right? In fact, if anything, things had gone in Eddie’s favor. So why did he feel this heavy weight in his chest, baring down on his lungs and slowly squeezing the air out of him?

    When Eddie had returned from the bathroom the previous night, steeled to have the inevitable conversation that came after dry humping a guy you’ve been familiar with for no more than a day, he’d found Richie fast asleep.

  Not knowing what else to do, Eddie has simply crawled into bed beside him.

  But those hours laying awake had left him with too many thoughts, the most prodding being his fear that he’d been used as a prop for Richie’s experimentation. Did he even like guys? He’d never mentioned it, never seemed to show any interest past a couple of jokes. But that was all they were, right? Maybe the jokes had been the first signs Eddie should have noticed, subtle hints Richie was dropping to insinuate that Eddie would be the perfect contender for a round of ‘am I gay or just horny?’. Eddie had practically opened himself up to it after coming out to him.

  His pessimism may have been clouded by past experiences, but after what Eddie had been through, it was no wonder he jumped to conclusions. The only experiences Eddie had to speak for were secret rendezvous with nervous classmates that inevitably ended with Eddie being ignored the next day. It was a pattern, and Eddie was the invariable. He was the small, quiet twink that every questioning athlete and nerd alike seemed to peg as an easy target for their sexual experimentation.

  It wasn’t all bad; it was how Eddie got his first kiss, his first hand job, and so on and so forth. It had, however, left him feeling skeptical of anyone who showed even the barest of interest in him, writing it off as nothing more than curiosity.

  The thought of that being the case with Richie left Eddie’s stomach souring. He’d never gotten attached like this before. Quite honestly, he felt like he was standing on the edge of an avalanche, just waiting for Richie to speak and cause it all to collapse above them.

    “What do you think about people experimenting with… New things.” Eddie braved forward.

  “Uh, I mean that’s a pretty vague question.” Stan pointed out.

  “Okay… say you’ve only ever eaten hamburgers your whole life, right? Through and through you’re a hamburger guy. Until one day you see a hotdog and think, well, maybe I’ll try that today. What if you try it and you don’t like it? Are you just going to throw it away? How is that fair, to just use the hotdog and then discard it like it’s nothing?”

  Eddie hadn’t realized that his voice had become fast-paced and high-pitched until he noticed the look on Stan’s face. Clear confusion was evident in the way he gazed at Eddie with his brows knit in the middle and his mouth slightly agape. Eddie immediately wanted to disappear.

  “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

  “No! No, sorry, I just…” Stan took a breath and sat up straighter, angling his body towards Eddie. “Okay well, experimenting with new… foods doesn’t always end up in distaste, right? Lots of people end up discovering some of their favorite… foods through exploration.”

  Hearing the metaphor come out of Stan’s mouth made Eddie realize how nonsensical it was. God, he was about two seconds sway from digging himself a hole and hibernating until springtime.

  “But if you’re worried about someone… Not enjoying the hot dog, just talk to them about it. Maybe they didn’t realize how their actions might hurt the… hot dog…”

  Eddie and Stan stared at one another for a long pause until Stan cracked a smile, and it radiated so much warmth and comfort that Eddie couldn’t help but smile back. Soon they were falling into giggles, easing themselves into full-blown laughter at the absurdity of the conversation.

  Stan had to have figured it out by now, but Eddie was thankful that he didn’t push him past what he was ready to talk about. Stan was a quality friend, and Eddie had never appreciated his presence in his life more than he did right now.

  “Thanks Stan.” Eddie said honestly, bumping shoulders with him as the last of his chitters died out.

  “Anytime.”

  “You might want to consider the possibility that this isn’t their first time eating a hot dog though.”

  “What?” Eddie blurted.

  “I just mean, you’re assuming they’ve never had a hot dog before, right? Maybe they tend to lean more towards hamburgers but that doesn’t mean they’ve never been intrigued by hot dogs before. Maybe they just needed to find the right hot dog…”

  Eddie’s face heated up as Stan continued to talk.

  “All I’m saying is if it was truly just some reckless experimentation, they’d probably wait until college like the rest of us.”

  Eddie’s head hurt, the metaphor finally losing its last small thread of sense.

  “Right… wait until college to… eat a hot dog…” Eddie repeated slowly.

  Stan opened his mouth to reply, but the voice that rang out wasn’t his.

  “Who’s got hot dogs?”

  Eddie just about jumped out of his skin, his eyes darting up to connect with Richie’s. Eddie felt like he had just been caught talking about him, which he sort of had, but Richie was none the wiser and, hopefully, neither was Stan. The only one floundering was Eddie, but boy was he in the deep end.

  “NOTHING. NO ONE.” Eddie exclaimed much too loudly for the situation.

  Both Stan and Richie stared back at Eddie, equally puzzled expressions on both their faces. He felt like there was a single ping pong ball bouncing around in his head at light speed, desperately trying to find an appropriate response to save himself. Thankfully, Stan was always one step ahead of him.

  “We were just talking about how Eddie’s mom makes the best hot dogs.”

  Eddie’s nose instinctively scrunched up at the mention of his mom during a metaphor about his sex life, but he quickly schooled his features and nodded along.

  “Mmm, I’m gonna have to fight you on that until I’ve tasted them for myself. Otherwise, the best hotdogs in Derry are undoubtedly the ones from Kelso’s Diner.”

  Eddie short circuited at the insinuation that Richie would indeed one day be trying Eddie’s mom’s cooking. Meaning he foresaw them continuing to be friends past this trip. Meaning, and this made Eddie’s head spin, Richie didn’t seem to have the intention of dropping Eddie the minute he got what he wanted.

  What exactly did he want?

    “So, Stan the man, if you don’t mind, I’m going to kick you back into the strong arms of Bill Denbrough and reclaim my rightful seat here.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice the way Stan’s face flushed just a shade darker. Was there something there that Eddie didn’t know about?

  He didn’t have time to ponder Stan’s reaction to the mention of Bill Denbrough or his strong arms. Stan shot a quick ‘talk to you later’ Eddie’s way and was retreating to his seat as Richie settled into his.

  Eddie’s head was swirling as his senses reacted to Richie’s proximity. He forced himself to speak through the rush of endorphins, even though all his body wanted to do was curl into Richie’s side.

  “What did Bill want to talk to you about?”

  “Relationship drama.” Richie answered, shrugging it off. “There’s always something with that boy.” The way Richie spoke wasn’t annoyed or exhausted, but rather amused by his friend and his ongoing antics.

  “I’m glad you were able to help him.” Eddie responded genuinely.

  “Yeah, me too.” Richie’s smile felt intimate, as if it were just for Eddie, even though they were talking about someone else entirely.

  Eddie began to smile back but was overcome by a yawn, his face distorting as his jaw dropped on its own, too motivated by exhaustion to wait for the queue from his brain.

  “Didn’t get much sleep last night?” Richie pondered.

  “Uhm, yeah, I guess not.” Eddie answered sheepishly, hoping Richie didn’t connect his insomnia to their late-night encounter.

  “Bummer, I slept better than I have in months. You’re a good cuddler.” Richie’s comment was dropped so casually that Eddie almost didn’t catch it, but his ears were awake enough to tinge a bright rose in response.

  “Well, anyways, Mr. Daniels said we have about an hour until we get to the resort so…” Richie tapped his shoulder invitingly, and even though Eddie had been in the exact same position mere minutes ago with Stanley, it felt vastly different when the shoulder was attached to Richie.

  “T-thanks.” Eddie stuttered, dipping his head low into the crook of Richie’s shoulder fast enough that he hopefully didn’t notice how much redder Eddie got.

  He was sure his heart was beating too fast for him to possibly fall asleep, but the closeness to Richie rejuvenated him in another way. He let his eyes slip closed as he slowly relaxed into the comforting presence beside him.

    “-ddie, hey, Eds.”

  “Mmmm ‘s not my name.”

  “Fine. Edward Kaspbrak, king of slumber and bearer of drool, it’s time to wake up.”

  Eddie’s surroundings slowly came into consciousness as he was pulled back into awareness. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a very different orientation than when he’d last been cognizant. The second thing he noticed, and much more dreadful, was that his cheek was indeed covered in drool.

  He brought a hand to his face and wiped away the moisture as quickly as he could, riding himself of any evidence Richie might be able to use against him.

  Who, speaking of, was currently underneath him in a way he very much hadn’t been before.

  At some point, Eddie had ended up with his head in Richie’s lap. Richie’s hand was in Eddie’s hair at the nape of his neck, gently playing with the strands as if it was an absent habit he did all the time. The act was so domestic it made Eddie want to burst into tears; whether they were sad or happy tears, he wasn’t sure.

  He sat up slowly, careful not to have the blood rush to his head too quickly. The last thing he needed was to pass out in front of Richie. Who knows what kind of intimate position he’d wake up in the next time.

  “We’re here, everybody’s already outside.” Richie offered as explanation for Eddie’s disrupted sleep.

  “What? Why did you wait to wake me?” Eddie asked with only a tinge of annoyance. Luckily, Richie seemed to be charmed by it.

  “You’re cute when you sleep, let a man indulge.”

  Before Eddie could form a response, Richie was already standing up. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way towards the front of the bus, leaving Eddie to fumble to catch up.

    When Eddie stepped off the bus, the first thing he noticed was how white everything was. It was to be expected, of course; it’s kind of hard to ski without snow. But it was such a stark difference from where they’d been just an hour ago. The difference a small distance could make was staggering; this didn’t even feel like it belonged in the same universe.

  The view was gorgeous with its tall log cabins, ski lifts moving like carousels, and snow-covered evergreens on every surface. Eddie was half tempted to throw himself down in the snow and make a snow angel.

  But the cold nipping at his nose was a reminder that before he could indulge in any snow activities, he had to actually get equipped for the snow.

  To their left, Mr. Daniels and Eric were unloading everyone’s bags from the storage compartment beneath the bus. Eddie could already spot his small suitcase, a bright pink flamingo covered hand-me-down from his mom, sitting in the snow.

  While they waited, Richie’s friends sauntered over, Stan happily alongside them.

  “I can’t wait to hit the slopes.” Bill greeted them as he bobbed up and down eagerly, his enthusiasm contagious.

  “I’m just excited for the hot chocolate.” Beverly countered, as she wrapped her sweater a little tighter around herself. All their winter coats were stuffed in their suitcases, the cold air taking advantage of their thin jackets and exposed skin.

  “Here Beverly.” Ben had shrugged off his sweater and was offering it to Beverly with a shy little quirk of his lips, but Beverly regarded it for only a moment before shaking her head. She took the sweater and threw it back over Ben’s shoulders before crowding her way into his space and snuggling right up against his chest.

  “Body heat works better.” She teased lowly.

  Richie let out a long, slow whistle, summing up what everyone was thinking; Beverly was sly as hell and Ben was gleefully in way over his head.

  The exchange made Eddie crave Richie’s warmth, yearn to be back in that motel bed, blissfully unaware of how intimate they were being in their sleep.

  There was no more being blissfully unaware, not with how Eddie’s heart beat to a different rhythm every time Richie’s arm would brush up against his.

    “Alright, everyone grab your bags and follow me.” Mr. Daniels announced, finally closing the now empty compartment of the bus.

  The seven of them sauntered over to the pile of suitcases and duffel bags, searching out their own among the many.

  Even though Eddie had already spotted his suitcase, he pretended to search for it for a while longer until Richie found his. Only then did he grab the bright pink monstrosity by the handle and begin lugging it up the hill, Richie wordlessly in tow behind him.

  They managed to reach the top of the hill without Richie stumbling too much, but as soon as Mrs. Harrow came into view there was no hiding Richie’s injury anymore.

  With hawk eyes homing in, Mrs. Harrow walked over to Richie with a displeased expression.

  “What happened here, Richard?”

  She sounded almost exasperated, and it made Eddie want to step in and defend him.

  “Oh, you know, just my bum leg. It acts up every now and then, ever since that terrible kite flying accident…” Richie looked off into the distance as if remembering a tragedy of great proportions.

  Mrs. Harrow rolled her eyes. Eddie’s anger flared once again.

  “Well, we can’t send you home now, so you’ll just have to spend the trip indoors. Absolutely no reckless activity, you got that Tozier?”

  “Aye aye, captain!”

  Mrs. Harrow didn’t acknowledge his response, simply turned her back towards them and began her search for the next student in need of scolding.

  As soon as she was out of ear shot, Eddie began fuming.

  “What the hell, why does Mrs. Harrow have it out for you? Can’t she see you’re hurt? Is she even capable of sympathy?”

  When Eddie looked over to Richie, he saw something soft and sweet in his expression, a contrast to Eddie’s bubbling temper. “You care about me.” Richie mused with a smirk.

  “W-what- no I don’t- I mean I do but- not like- shut up.” Eddie grabbed his suitcase once again and began walking away.

  “You can deny it all you want, Kaspbrak. I see right through you!”

  Eddie flipped Richie off over his shoulder as he disappeared through giant mahogany double doors.

    Their rooms were small, a single bed meant to be shared between the two classmates who signed up to room together. Normally on school trips, the school tried to cram as many students into one room as possible, but they must have known from prior visits to the lodge that these rooms just couldn’t hold more than two at a time.

  However, despite the small quarters, they were undeniably beautiful. Every surface seemed to be made from the same rich darkened wood, and every accent was bronzed. One wall was taken up by giant windows that overlooked the mountain below them, able to be hidden behind heavy curtains that took Eddie’s full force to pull closed.

  Eddie and Stan didn’t spend much time in their room, stopping only briefly to drop off their luggage and get bundled up in preparation for the slopes. Eddie was practically buzzing at the opportunity to teach himself something completely foreign; it’d been a long time since a new sport had been in his reach, and he was planning on taking full advantage of the absence of Sonia.

  “Are you almost ready?” Eddie bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for Stan by the door, one hand already on the knob in anticipation.

  “Yes, for god sake Eddie, I just need to find my gloves.”

  Eddie’s eyes glazed over as he thought about the adrenaline rush he’d longed for. He still played tons of sports but there was something about learning a new one that left Eddie especially excited. He didn’t care much for the competitiveness of sports, and while he didn’t mind the sportsmanship of it all, it wasn’t why Eddie was motivated to get involved. Quite simply put, Eddie just wanted to play. He wanted to live out the experiences he missed out on, that pure rush that came from scraping your knees while playing soccer or face planting while diving for the volleyball. It may seem uninteresting to those who had already lived it out in childhood, but to Eddie it was nothing short of euphoric.

  “Here they are!” Stan exclaimed, holding his pair of gloves above his head as he tucked everything else back inside his suitcase.

  “Good, now come on, let’s goooooo.”

  Eddie was already out the door before Stan could answer, but he knew he was following by the distinct sound of swishing snow pants.

    They made their way down to the lobby, eagerly chatting about how fun their afternoon was going to be, when they ran straight into a brick wall of a body.

  “Fucking move, queers.” Henry ground out, placing a flat hand on Eddie’s face and pushing him aside with ease.

  “Henry, don’t you have anything better to do than project your internalized homophobia onto others.” Stan replied flatly.

  “What the fuck did you say to me?” Henry hissed, flipping his attention to Stan with a new temper flaring.

  “Stan…” Eddie warned, reaching for Stan’s hand to pull him away from the rising confrontation.

  Stan seemed to pale as he realized his comment wasn’t going to be shrugged off. He tried to keep himself composed but Eddie knew his tells well enough to notice the change.

  Henry’s gaze flicked down to where Eddie was trying to join hands with Stan, and a wicked grin soured his face.

  “Oh, I see…” Henry began, stalking closer to the pair and causing them to stumble back. They didn’t fear Henry like they used to, but he still held some power in those eyes that had never fully ceased to make them tremble.

  “You two fucking fairies together now? I should have seen it coming, pansies aren’t potted too far from one another. So, tell me, who made the first move, huh?”

  Eddie’s throat was thick with fear, his eyes unable to move from where Henry’s gaze pinned them.

  “Wait don’t tell me… It was you, wasn’t it, Uris? Eddie here is too limp wristed to do anything, just a little girl in sheep’s clothing. But then again, I guess if the rumors are true, you’re not completely useless. At least you give good head.”

  Eddie’s face burned as he held back the tears that threatened to give him away. He was fine, Henry’s words were hollow. Eddie had already heard every gay slur Henry had in his vocabulary.

  “Too bad you’re not pretty enough to turn any of them into faggo-”

  Eddie’s fist moved before his brain did, lining up perfectly with Henry’s jaw and landing the punch exactly where it would hurt most. Stan flinched beside him as the sickening crack rang out in the empty hallway, followed by a wail that made snow drop from the treetops outside. Eddie didn’t move, refused to let himself back down even as the tears broke free and streamed down his face.

  “KASPBRAK.”

  Eddie jumped, whipping around in horror as Mrs. Harrow’s voice broke through his resolve.

  “WHAT THE HELL.”

  Eddie stared in shock. He’d never done anything worthy of breaking a teacher’s ‘no cursing’ rule before, though he’d seen many teachers reach their point of profanity with other students before. It sort of felt similar to when you see a teacher outside of school and are reminded that they don’t just exist inside the bubble you’ve put them in. Well, the bubble had popped, and Mrs. Harrow was now stalking towards him with a new air that absolutely paralyzed him. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he didn’t. He just continued staring back at her, watching as she passed him and rushed over to Henry, taking his face in her hand and angling his head to assess the damage. Luckily, there was no visible injury past some reddening (though the same wouldn’t be true once the bruising began to set in).

  “Eddie.” Mrs. Harrow sighed. She released Henry’s face and brought the hand up to her own, pinching the skin between her eyes as if she was fighting back a cresting headache.

  She probably was.

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Harrow, I didn’t-”

  Eddie was interrupted with a single finger, held up intimidatingly as Mrs. Harrow continued to try and gather her patience.

  “No skiing.”

  “What!?”

  “What about that needs clarification, Edward?”

  “But I didn’t do anything!”

  “I watched you punch Mr. Bowers across the face.”

  “Well, yeah, but-”

  “No. Skiing.”

  Eddie fidgeted in place as he desperately grasped at straws in his head that could possibly get him out of this situation. Maybe if he could get Mrs. Harrow alone and just explain to her what Henry was saying-

  With an exasperated sigh, Mrs. Harrow placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder and began leading him back down the hallway from which she’d appeared.

  “Come on Henry, we’ll get you some ice.”

  Eddie couldn’t move, he’d become cemented to the floor at some point during his meltdown.

    “Eddie?” Stan’s soft voice penetrated the space between them, but it sounded distant. Anger bubbled up inside Eddie, anger that he wasn’t at all certain how to process.

  “Hey, Eddie, I’m so sorry. You know none of what Bowers said was true, right?”

  Like a kettle blowing its whistle, Eddie’s top popped.

  “OF COURSE IT’S TRUE.”

  Eddie whipped around to face Stan, his cheeks red hot as he filled with steam.

  “I’M GAY, STANLEY. DON’T YOU KNOW? I’M A FUCKING FRUIT CAKE. AND NOT EVEN A GOOD FRUIT CAKE, I’M ONE OF THOSE CHRISTMAS FRUIT CAKES THAT EVERYONE JUST PUTS IN THEIR FREEZER AND FORGETS ABOUT UNTIL SUMMER. THEN THEY THROW ME OUT, BECAUSE NO ONE EVEN LIKES FRUIT CAKE STANLEY.”

  “Hotdogs like fruitcakes.”

  Eddie sputtered; his mind unable to connect the pieces while he was burning red hot.

  “WHAT?”

  He could probably stop yelling, but if Eddie let himself think too long about how he just came out to his best friend, he might melt the rest of the way into the ground and become nothing more than carpeting.

  “Hotdogs. I hear they go well with fruitcakes.” Stan repeated calmly.

  Eddie felt like he was going to combust.

  “What are you-”

  “Richie is your hotdog, right?”

  At the mention of Richie, Eddie’s anger began to simmer down, exhaustion pulling at his muscles. All he could do was nod.

  “Look, Eddie, if it wasn’t obvious enough already, I don’t care that you’re gay. I’m a Jewish boy scout whose nerd repertoire is more extensive than that of most comic book writers, what space do I have to judge.”

  Eddie’s heart rate was settling down, the reassurance from his friend a comforting constant. This was Stanley, he’d never cared what ‘secrets’ Eddie had kept from him before, and this was no different. Well, this was a little different from the time he stole Stan’s pudding cup and then confessed an hour later out of guilt. But even then, Stan had been nothing but understanding.

  “Yeah, he’s the hot dog.” Eddie’s voice was beginning to level out as well, the heat of the moment passing on.

  “Richie isn’t like all those other hot dogs. He’s sure of himself in a way I’ve never met anyone else to be. The way his friends speak about him leaves no doubt in my mind that he has himself figured out; at least enough not to hurt you. He’s one of the good guys, Eddie.”

  “One of the good hotdogs.” Eddie corrected.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna have to drop that now that we’re being transparent with each other. I don’t like having to think about Richie’s… hotdog every time we tiptoe around your metaphor.”

  Eddie’s cheeks blushed a furious shade of fuchsia as his mind also began to wander towards Richie’s hotdog.

  “Richie’s stuck indoors for the next few days too, right?” Stan prompted.

  “Yeah, Mrs. Harrow was pretty clear about that.” Eddie scowled at the memory. “So, you guys are stuck in lockdown together; seems like the perfect romance scenario to me.”

  The more Eddie thought about it, the more things seemed to fall into place. Eddie had been excited about skiing, but what he was more excited about was this budding energy between him and Richie. Mrs. Harrow had unknowingly set up the perfect circumstance for them to spend as much time together as possible, and if Eddie could muster up the courage, he just might try to take advantage of it.

    Stan and Eddie had parted hours ago, but Eddie was just now beginning to rouse back into existence.

  After the fight with Henry, Eddie’s lack of sleep from the night before finally caught up with him. The nap on the bus had been helpful, but not enough to regenerate all the energy he’d lost to his anxiety the past 24 hours. As soon as he’d returned to his room he hadn’t been able to fight it anymore. He’d barely gotten his shoes off before collapsing into the inviting plush bedding and zonking out for three hours.

  Lucky for Eddie, three hours didn’t put him back that much. It was dinner time, but Eddie knew most of the students were prepared to stay on the slopes until the late hours of the night (or at least until teacher enforced curfew).

  Eddie was overheating, having fallen asleep with his winter coat and snow pants on. He was surprised he hadn’t died in his sleep from a layer induced fever. Could that even happen? Well, Eddie wasn’t keen on finding out today. He promptly stripped off the stifling clothing and did the same with his undergarments. While the suffocating layers may not have killed him, they had certainly left him covered in sweat.

  Eddie trailed into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of his naked form in the mirror and stopping. He turned fully towards his reflection, squinting as if sizing himself up.

  He wasn’t very buff, but he was nicely filled out from years of dabbling in sports. He definitely still had a thinner body, his waist dipping in elegantly before flaring back out into hips that, quite honestly, were pretty generous for a man. Eddie didn’t love his body, but who did? Everyone had issues to point out if they took a magnifying glass to themselves, but overall, Eddie was pleased with his appearance.

  He hoped that Richie would be too, if they ever ended up there.

  Eddie turned to the side, assessing his profile. He wondered what it would look like if Richie was slotted in behind him, arms wrapped tight around Eddie’s thin waist to hold him close. The height difference alone would cause Eddie to look small in comparison; Richie was an absolute tree. The thought shouldn’t have made Eddie feel as hot as it did, but he soon found himself heating up again.

  Eddie leaned over the sink, resting his elbows on the edge so he could lean in close to his figure. His cock brushed up against the cold wood surface of the counter and he gasped in surprise, looking down to find it peering up at him in intrigue.

  Eddie’s wonderings about Richie must have gotten him a little more worked up than he’d anticipated.

  Glancing back up at himself in the mirror, Eddie let one hand trail down to the spot between his legs. He grasped himself as he pictured Richie behind him, staring back at him through their reflections with that enticing grin.

  ‘What, Eds. Don’t think I’ll fuck you right here in the bathroom?’

  Eddie moaned quietly to himself, picturing just how he’d respond to Richie’s teasing.

  ‘I bet you won’t, Tozier. Too afraid of someone walking in on us. You’re all talk but no game.’

  Eddie would dangle the challenge in front of Richie knowing full well that he wouldn’t back down. He’d take Eddie’s hips and thrust himself inside without hesitation, just one single move would be all it took for Richie to fill him up.

  Eddie’s wrist cramped from the awkward angle he held it at, but he refused to move from his spot bent over the sink, too caught up in the fantasy.

  He replayed the moans he’d committed to memory the night before, those sinful sounds that Richie seemed to let slip out like he didn’t know they were poisonous darts striking right through Eddie’s skin.

  ‘Richie…’ Eddie moaned, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom.

  ‘Eddie…’ He could hear Richie say, pounding into him at a relentless pace that would leave bruises on Eddie’s skin from where he slammed into the countertop.

  And then Eddie was releasing into his fist, cum pooling over and dripping into the sink. His body shook with shock and his toes curled, eyes squeezing shut as he milked the last bit out of himself before going completely slack.

  He was grateful that counter was there to hold him up, because if not he would have probably fallen to the floor.

  It took a moment for Eddie to finally open his eyes again, but when he did, he was surprised at how disappointed he was that Richie wasn’t actually there. He knew he’d gotten lost in his mind, but it didn’t ease his despondency.

  Eddie stepped into the shower, committing himself to not think about Richie at least until he returned squeaky clean.

    It didn’t work.

  Eddie had thought about Richie the entire shower.

  Eddie tried to let his worry be soothed by Stan’s words, though it continued to flare at the least opportune times. Eddie accepted that he probably wouldn’t be completely placated until he had Richie do it himself, hopefully through tender hands and soothing touches.

  Eddie redressed himself, this time forgoing the heavy layers in favor of a warm wool sweater and comfortable sweatpants. He didn’t bother styling his hair, too set on hunting down Richie to care whether his locks were combed to the left or to the right.

  He quickly pocketed his cellphone and room key, setting off in search of the only other student in the building.

    Eddie didn’t know Richie’s room number, so he took a gamble and wandered into the lobby. There was a pool table in the center of the room, looking lonely as those around it chose to read a book by the fireplace or chat quietly by the windows. There weren’t many people to speak of, so it was easy to quickly spot that familiar face that made Eddie’s heart skip.

  Richie was laying across one of the couches, arms flung across his chest in protest. He was grumbling lowly to the man sitting a seat away, which Eddie recognized as their bus driver.

  “And so, in walks the other prisoner.” Eric drawled as he noticed Eddie, an easy smile on his face.

  Richie’s head popped up quickly, his curls bouncing as they tried to keep up with the swift change in position. Once Richie saw Eddie, the rest of his body followed enthusiastically as he jumped up from his seat.

  “EDDIE!” Richie cheered loudly, before quickly clearing his throat and lowering his voice to a more lobby-appropriate volume. “What are you doing here?”

  “Uhh, I sort of…” Eddie chanced a glance over Richie’s shoulder, noting that Eric wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. “punched Henry Bowers.” He mumbled lowly.

  “YOU WHAT!?”

  “SHHHHH!” Eddie grabbed Richie by the arm and pulled him back down to the couch, looking around them anxiously to see if Richie had drawn any eyes. “It’s not a big deal, okay?” Eddie added once he was sure no one was listening in.

  “Uhm, I’d say punching the guy who’s made everyone’s life a living hell for the past four years counts as a big deal.” Richie challenged.

  Eddie sighed, letting himself lean back into the leather couch as he chewed on his bottom lip. Richie wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t not a big deal, but Eddie wasn’t the violent type. He hadn’t meant to do what he’d done; he’d just snapped. He didn’t regret it, but he didn’t want to dwell on it either, especially since dwelling on it meant remembering all that lead up to it.

  “Can we talk about something else please?” Eddie asked, his voice small and begging.

  Richie was clearly itching for more details, but he still dropped the subject as he copied Eddie’s position sinking into the couch.

  “So, what are you doing here?” Eddie asked, grateful that Richie had respected his request.

  “Eric’s on babysitting duty.” Richie nodded over to Eric who sent them a thumbs up without looking away from his phone. “Mrs. Harrow doesn’t trust me to stay inside.”

  “I mean, to be fair, neither do I.” Eddie mused, a smirk playing on his face.

  Richie bumped his shoulder into Eddie’s, feigning offence even as laughter spilled from his chest.

  “Fine, but at least leave me with something to do, you know? I’m not a convict, I’m injured!” Richie lifted his leg and pointed to his ankle as if to prove his point.

  “As the convict here, I take offense to that.” Eddie teased.

  “Well, Eddie, how do you feel about reformation?” Eric asked. As Eddie regarded him, he saw that Eric had pocketed his phone and was now leaning towards them in engagement.

  Eddie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Depends on what sort of reformation.”

  “Why don’t you take over guard duty?” Eric offered, nodding towards Richie. “Personally, I’d have let Richie stay in his room anyway, but I was given my orders. If you make sure he doesn’t leave, then at least the two of you can spend your evening watching TV or something. Just don’t let anyone see you outside your rooms, I don’t want to get in trouble for abandoning post. Mrs. Harrow is scary when she’s mad.”

  Eric mimicked a shiver running down his spine before shaking it off, smiling at the two of them warmly.

  “Eric, as per usual, you are the BEST.” Richie cheered.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Richie and Eddie wasted no time before scrambling to their feet and jetting out of the lobby. They didn’t discuss whose room they were going to, but once Richie pressed his floor number on the elevator keypad it was unspoken.

  Eddie was going to be alone in a room with Richie. Unsupervised. For hours.

  Eddie was going to shit his pants.

[chaptersofnow]

the royal kiddos of Chrysalis, Cadance and Shining armor

Flurry Heart, Skyla, Instar Pale and Crimson Sweet

Bios under the cut

Name: Flurry Heart Nickname(s): Age: 26 Pronouns: She/her, They/Them Identity: Nonbinary Lesbian crush/relationship: Dating Pumpkin Cake Parents: Cadance, Shining Armor, Chrysalis Sibling: Skyla, Crimson Sweet, Instar Pale Special Talent: Magical blacksmith, Love magic Occupation: Princess Location: Crystal Kingdom Likes: Heavy metal, wrist bands, doing make up, teddy bears Dislikes: annoying men, people who think she isnt working hard as a princess Bio: Flurry Heart, oldest child to Shining armor and Cadance and heir to the crystal empire. she was an absolute sweet heart,  curly pigtails absolutely beloved by the kingdom. However when she entered her teen years she went into a hard goth phase and never got out of it. a real 180 on her personality. none the less she still works hard to work on her hobbies often, keeping up with her princess duties and making her family proud. At the end of the day she happily cuddles up with her girlfriend Pumpkin as they show each other funny pictures on their phones and watch stupid movies until they pass out. Growing up Flurry heart and Cozy Glow were good friends,when Cozy Glow had to come along with Celestia and Luna for trips to the empire for Flurry heart to cantorlot the two got to spend time together. it took a bit of warming up as Cozy glow was a few years older than the royal princes, but when the two started hanging out they were best friends. Cozy glow would often sneak her to cool places, steal snacks from the royal kitchen and so on. Cozy also was the one who introduce her to heavy metal saying quote "I don't know if you'll like this you seem like the type to like classy music like the nutcracker of sumthin'" the next visit  Flurry heart had dyed her whole mane black and had on the messiest smudgiest make up. it was a real kicker to watch this 15 year old walk is like she was hot shit. Cozy glow gave her more CD, taught her to style her hair, put on makeup and the whole thing. When they got older Flurry returned favor by custom making Cozy Glow her armor when she was officially made a guard of cantorlot. Flurry heart tries to not let the comments of the citizens and visiting dignitaries get to her, and it helps to have her parents supporting her . She met her girlfriend Pumpkin Cake when the mare began to take on Sugarcube corner deliveries herself, like Flurry heart recalls knowing her when they were real little, and seeing her at gatherings where pinkie brings the cake twins to come have fun. but they never really got to talk. but with the constant deliveries and Flurry Hearts development for a sweet tooth Pumpkin cake was around often. at some point the two started dating and Pumpkin moved to the Crystal empire and lives with flurry heart. Pumpkin works in the royal kitchen and Flurry heart is a black smith specializing is creating magic infused armor. 

🌨️🌨️🌨️🌨️🌨️🌨️🌨️🌨️🌨️

Name: Skyla Nickname(s): Age: 24 Pronouns: She/her Identity: Agender Bi pony crush/relationship: Parents: Cadance, Shining Armor, Chrysalis Sibling: Flurry Heart, Crimson Sweet, Instar Pale Special Talent: Love Magic Occupation: Princess Location: Crystal Kingdom Likes: keeping on schedual, looking good, being looked up to, tradition Dislikes: not receiving recognition for her work, physical labor Bio: Second born to the empire, Skyla is defiantly the most cookie cutter princess of the four crystal heirs. She takes after her mother but is a lot of uptight in keeping tradition, making sure everything is set to be on scheduled and so forth. she may have picked this up from her aunt twilight more or less. while her family around her tries to keep her grounded and calm she can't help but get in a big tilly over not having control over things. its gone from not being able to control her pretend play dates as a filly to making sure the daily happening don't get off course. Her older sister Flurry Heart, while working hard and still making sure to get her work done, is a lot more laze in things and is ok with letting things slide if they don't go according to plan. Which tends to lead Skyla to try and follow after her and fix these things even if they don't need to be fixed. Skyla puts on a nice happy face for the people but all her siblings know she holds quite the temper when no one is looking, especially when Flurry tries to tell her to calm down. Flurry was originally the one being trained to take over Cadance's spot as queen of the empire one day, training in the use of her magic. However when Flurry found her true calling as a black smith the honor was passed down to Skyla who has happily worked hard to catch up. Skyla see's herself as bearing a torch for the future of the empire and that she has to be perfect and so must everything else around her. Fearing things to be able to fall apart at any moment. after the big war against darkness Skyla had begun to realize for a few years, realizing no great danger would ruining the kingdom. But after the Queen Erroria incident where her and her family had been captured she has brought back up her walls and has become more uptight then before. 

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Name: Crimson Sweet Nickname(s): Stripes Age: 11 Pronouns: They/Them Identity: Nonbinary Girl crush/relationship: Parents: Cadance, Shining Armor, Chrysalis Sibling: Flurry Heart, Skyla, Instar Pale Special Talent: helping  people make friends Occupation: Princess, student Location: Crystal Kingdom Likes: friends, beetles, small notebooks, the beach Dislikes: Mirrors, thunder, rotten food Bio: Oldest of the two kids born after the marriage of Chrysalis to the crystal family. a marriage made out of many years of apologies, forgiveness and new found friendship. After Chrysalis accepted the friendship of twilight and equestria she spent many years making up for what she did, so her people and everyone else. She was blinded by anger and sadness, when she ruled she truly believed the only way to feed her people was to take their love, and when shown a new way she felt foolish for never realizing and having let her people starve that she denied the change at all. After the Hive came to accept her as their own again she led beside Thorax and his council. Thorax had always been too young to rule all by himself so with a queen with years of experience around to help him things in the Hive improved in new ways. now with her relationship with the Hive repaired Chrysalis slowly made progress to apologize for what she did to Candace and Shining armor. it took awhile to move past the day she invaded and tried to ruin their wedding, but in time over years of forming bonds they had a new wedding. introducing Chrysalis to their family. Chrysalis still lived in the Hive and though their wedding was official for the time it more stood for political alliance between the two, as chrysalis wasn't ready to let thorax stand alone as leader yet. Her staying ended up being what saved the colony, when the war of darkness arose through equestria the entity tried to reclaim the changlings once again as is minons. Had chrysalis not been there to protect them they would have surely been corrupted once again. After the war ended Chrysalis felt safe leaving Thorax as ruler, chrysalis now lives in the crystal empire with Cadance and Shining armor. over the years they have had two children, Crimson Sweet and later Instar Pale. Crimson sweet is still of the younger royal kids, they are quite rambunctious and love to run around with all the other kids in the kingdom. they love to eat and their favorite thing to do is make picnics, they take outings with their school friends almost every week. Bringing along cute snacks that Pumpkin Cake has made for them. 

🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

Name: Instar Pale Nickname(s): Age: 10 Pronouns: He/him, Any Identity: Genderfuild bi pony crush/relationship: Parents: Cadance, Shining Armor, Chrysalis Sibling: Flurry Heart, Crimson Sweet, Skyla Special Talent: Studying Occupation: Royality, student Location: Crystal Kingdom Likes: cool weapons, books with cool covers, drawings, collecting things Dislikes: loud noises, making decisions, strangers Bio: Youngest of four, Instar is the quiet baby of the family. Growing up in a family as big as his everyone around him babied him, saying he was always so sweet and cuddly. Which led to an amount of coddling that turned him into a very antisocial pony. he struggles to talk to new people and wont go anywhere unless he is with someone he knows so he can duck behind them to avoid conversations. hes a total hypochondriac, believing to be constantly sick and feeling weak all the time dispute his health being fine. Instar likes to spend time with Flurry heart and shining armor the most, Flurry heart because she is quite and they get to just sit around listening to music and reading. and his father because he gets to sit on the side line and watch him work. Instar doesn't think they'd make much for a guard but they love to read all about the different weapons, armors and Technics taught through history and the country. watching his father display these things, or Flurry heart MAKE them is right up his ally. If you do manage to get him to talk to you he is an info dumping machine and will talk your ear off about some obscure history thing he's learned recently.

[woulddieforperrytheplatypus]

*spoilers for infinity War/endgame* Because technically Phineas and Ferb Is in the same universe of the MCU, does that mean that before the Avengers undid Thanos snap some of the PnF crew died? Imagine Doof Dying, Perry living but still visit his tower every day bc he misses him. Or Phineas and Ferb Dying, and Candace trying to bust them Just to rember they're gone.

WAIT THAT’S SO SAD O_O

I can’t stop thinking about what would happen if Heinz died. Perry would absolutely keep coming back to the tower even though there’s no scheme to thwart. Sometimes he’d run into Vanessa, who’s mourning just like he is. Her dad may drive her up the wall sometimes, but she still loved him and she would have to have a lot of regrets about how rocky their relationship had been at times. And assuming the squirrel powering Norm up didn’t die, he’d have the whole penthouse to himself for the first time. I don’t know if it’s in Norm’s programming to be genuinely sad, but I have to think that over five years of only finding companionship in Perry and Vanessa’s visits, he’d have to lose the cheerful air he always has. 

In fact, I think a lot of OWCA and LOVEMUFFIN would be fucked up. Only about 25% of nemesis pairs would survive, and 50% of evil scientists and agents would be left without their nemesis. There would have to be a lot of rearranging, and depending on what happens to the OWCA/LOVEMUFFIN member ratio, some agents might be without a job or some might have to double up. Can you imagine Perry taking on two evil scientists every day while he’s mourning the loss of his best friends?

And then when his day at work is done, he’d have two choices: he could go to Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc and not be met with Heinz’s self-assured monologuing, or he could go to the Flynn-Fletchers (it would be difficult to call it “home” now) and constantly be reminded that his boys are gone. I would like to think that both Linda and Lawrence get to stick around, but they’re no substitute for Phineas and Ferb.

Much like Perry’s dream in Phineas and Ferb Get Busted, Candace would be heartbroken. She wouldn’t know what to do with herself if she wasn’t busting the boys. It really is the only thing she’d focused on all summer, and if they just up and disappeared one day, she’d be so lost. I have to imagine that either Stacy or Jeremy would also get snapped away -- the odds that all three would live would be slim to none -- so she’d also be mourning the loss of at least one of the closest friends. Assuming one of them survived, I imagine she’d lean on them for support more than anyone, but they’d be dealing with losses in their own family, too -- they both have at least one parent and a younger sister; I imagine at least one person in their family wouldn’t make it. 

I think Candace would really hold a grudge against Perry at first because he reminds her of them. Perry’s used to her being rude -- and it’s not exactly a one-sided thing -- but never to this extent, and I think he’d take that as a sign that maybe he shouldn’t come home. He doesn’t want to sleep in Phineas and Ferb’s empty beds, anyway. It would make it easy to embrace a second nemesis at OWCA, even if he feels numb the whole time, but he’d still need somewhere to go when he’s not working, and I think he might make himself at home at DEI, at least at night when he needs somewhere to sleep. He’d be careful not to disturb anything because even though he knows Heinz is gone, he can’t stop hoping that maybe one day he’ll come back, and Perry doesn’t want to move anything for when that day comes. Even after five years, whenever he pays DEI a visit, he touches nothing but the coffee maker and the bed. 

I think eventually, though, Candace and Perry would have to be reunited. It’s a small town; they can’t stay away from each other for long. Maybe it’s Perry who takes initiative, going back home for the first time after a month just to see how everyone’s doing. Obviously everyone’s still broken up about it, but it’s been long enough that people have to start moving on and living their lives without their loved ones, no matter how much it hurts. I don’t think Perry would have gone home to see Candace, but I think once he did, he wouldn’t want to leave. And for once, I think Candace wouldn’t want him to leave, either. Yes, Perry reminds her of the boys, but so does everything and everyone else. But having him disappear within days of the boys turning to dust just left another hole in the household, and it helps to have back the only one who misses them like she does.

I think the gang would absolutely fall apart. They had nothing in common before Phineas and Ferb brought them together that summer, and with them gone, there’s no one to unite them anymore. I don’t think it would be a conscious decision, but I think they’d slowly stop spending time together and that eventually it would be almost like that summer never happened. I even think Buford would stop bullying Baljeet, even as a friend, because it just feels wrong now. They wouldn’t know how to cope without Phineas and Ferb, and it would tear everything apart.

I think the Fireside Girls would grow closer, though. I think Isabella would become much more focused on getting her patches because it’s something to take her mind off the pain and she wouldn’t have to think about the fact that she never got to tell Phineas about her crush, and I think the girls who survived would know what she was doing and they would do their best to help her. I think there’d be a lot of heart-to-hearts and a lot of tears, and maybe they’d expand their duties to try to help others who are struggling the same way they are, even if the best they can offer is some sort of distraction. 

And as heartbreaking as it is to think about what would happen when they’re all gone, I can’t even imagine what would happen when they come back. Maybe Perry’s at DEI with 21-year-old Vanessa -- a whole ass adult now -- and Norm, sitting together quietly or reminiscing about the past and bam, Heinz appears in the middle of his lab. I think that might be the first time anyone ever sees Perry cry -- and I mean full-on sobbing; he’s been waiting for this day for five years but he never actually thought it would happen. It would be such a nice, happy reunion, and I can’t even imagine how much it would mean to Heinz to know that Perry stuck around for five whole years waiting for him when he knows that everyone else has abandoned him the first chance they got. 

And then they’ve notice how loud the tower is and how busy the streets are and they’d realize that Heinz isn’t the only one who came back, and Perry would give Heinz a big hug before running out the door to see if Phineas and Ferb came home. Heinz wouldn’t understand at first -- why would Perry wait around for five years just to leave within 10 minutes of Heinz coming back? -- but Perry had spent enough time with Vanessa lately for her to know that he has a family back home. That would just make Heinz feel even better. Perry lost his two boys and he still spent so much time here.

Phineas and Ferb would be so disoriented. One second they’re building a giant disco ball, the next they’re standing in an empty yard with no friends, tools, or disco balls in sight. They’d head inside to ask their parents if they knew where Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet went, and their parents would start crying because the boys are back! After all this time, their boys are finally home! and Phineas and Ferb wouldn’t understand why they’re suddenly being given the biggest bear hugs of all time but they wouldn’t protest. And then Perry would run through the door, almost like he somehow magically knew he’d find them, and he’d stay by their side all day, only leaving (after a day full of snuggles, obviously) to go back and visit Heinz. OWCA and LOVEMUFFIN would have a lot to sort out, so he’d hopefully get at least the next couple days off to spend with his family -- both the Flynn-Fletcher family and the Doofenshmirtz family.

Candace would probably be at school -- she’d be 20, after all, and probably at a college dorm a ways away from home. Maybe shed get a call from her mom, sobbing, telling her that her brothers are back. Or maybe someone in her dorm would start screaming and telling everyone who will listen that her dad is alive and her dad’s been dead for five years and this is the best news she’s ever gotten, and soon the entire school (and probably the entire world) is on their phone calling around to see if their own families and friends are okay. The phone lines wouldn’t even be able to handle all this, and the streets would be a wreck with people trying to get to their loved ones. 

And can you imagine what it would be like for Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet to see them again? They’d be 13-15 years old at this point, and Phineas and Ferb would still be in elementary school. The boys may be mature for their age, but I have to imagine the five-year age difference would create a major rift in their friendship if they tried to go back to where they used to be. If Isabella still had remnants of a crush on Phineas, it would probably stop the moment she remembered that he’s just a little kid, and she’d have to figure out how to cope knowing that her former best friend (and first crush) is back but that they’re at such different standings in life now. Hell, Phineas and Ferb are probably closer to Little Suzy Johnson’s age than to Isabella, Buford, and Baljeet’s. I think it would really mess with Phineas and Ferb to see their friends so much older and more mature, especially because to them, they’d just been kids building crazy things the day before. 

Once again, I think the Fireside Girls would be fine. They probably would have taken in some of the Lil-Sparks-turned-Fireside-Girls like Melissa (not Chase) into their troop to make up for lost members, so the varying ages would be nothing new; they’d just be happy to have their friends back.

tl;dr I think the snap would be heartbreaking and the reunion would be bittersweet and this is the woRST ASK I’VE EVER GOTTEN AND NOW I’M GONNA CRY IN A CORNER FOR A FEW HOURS /j

[ohmyjinsus]

kissing by the book

yeo one (changgu) x female! reader 

high school! au (non idol) || 8.8k (I went a little crazy whoops) 

super fluffy + some suggestive themes I guess (basically changgu in something rotten has ruined my life and I felt the need to write about it) (like,,, look at him!!) 

summary: you’ve been happily crushing on changgu from a distance for the past year, but when you get cast as romeo and juliet in your school’s spring play, it suddenly hits you how much you actually like him - oh, and you have to kiss him multiple times, so that’s fun too 

You can’t stop staring at the clock. The cast list is being released today, but you have no idea when. You checked outside the drama room as soon as you got to school, then again at lunch, but there was nothing. Now you’re dying for the bell to ring so you can check again. 

Finally, you’re free to leave your stupid last period chemistry class. You grab your bag, and run out of the room without saying bye to your friends. It takes less than 2 minutes to run across the parking lot to the other building. When you get there, no one else is around. Thank god. 

You hold your breath as you walk up to the drama room door. Your name better be at the top or else you’ll start a riot. You’ve spent the last 3 years playing supporting roles (some of them being male roles as well). This is your senior year, and if you’re not the female lead after all of this, you’ll be absolutely crushed. 

The list is there. You immediately scan it for your name, ignoring everyone else. You find yourself on the second row, cast as Juliet. All your friends’ names are there too, cast as side characters. When you finally look at the first row, your heart almost stops. 

Romeo........................... Yeo Changgu 

===

You met Changgu at some point last year, when your school did Twelfth Night. Technically, you knew him before, as you’re the same age, and he’s been in some of your classes, but you’d never actually spoken to him. He’d never taken a drama class, and he’d never been to a drama club meeting, so it seemed odd that he’d been cast as Sebastian.  

After a few weeks of rehearsal, you understood why. In addition to being a great actor, he was extremely friendly. He worked insanely hard to memorize his lines and was off book earlier than everyone else. Like you, he showed up to rehearsal 10 minutes early whenever possible. 

When you realized this, you started showing up later so you could avoid him. Although he was nice, he made you incredibly nervous. At first you thought it was because he was popular, but you soon came to realize it was because your idiotic self had a crush on him. Every interaction involved you forgetting how to speak. It’s like you lost all your brain cells every time you were in his presence. To be fair, you didn’t have many to begin with. 

Plus, everyone knows you should never date a cast mate. Not that you’d date him. Because he’d never be into you, right? 

===

“Wait, y/n, does that mean you have to kiss him?” 

“Oh my god, please stop.” You’re in your room, on FaceTime with your best friend. You haven’t even thought about that. You’re too concerned about having to speak to Changgu, never mind touching him- that’s too much for you to handle. 

“I’m just saying,” your friend takes a sip of her bubble tea, “remember the play y’all did 2 years ago where there was a kiss?” You were shocked the two students playing the leads agreed to actually do it, but then again, you’ve never kissed anyone, so what do you know? 

“I’m sure there are ways to fake it, or we can avoid it somehow.” You prop your phone up on your desk so you can go find your copy of Romeo and Juliet and look for any potential make out scenes.

“...... do you want to avoid it?” 

“No,” you say without thinking. 

“I knew you still had a crush on him. I should have joined drama club so I could see this all play out.” You roll your eyes and grab the book off your shelf. “I see the way you look at him.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

You friend puts her hand under her chin and stares off into the distance, imitating you. “Oh Changgu-”

“I’m gonna hang up on you,” you tell her, picking up your phone again. 

“Wait no!” You end the call, but text her right away, saying your mum called you down for dinner. It’s a lie, but a believable one. You just need a minute to yourself to think about this. 

It’s really not a big deal. A kiss is just a kiss. There’s a possibility Changgu might not even want to kiss you in the first place. You wouldn’t blame him. There’s no point in getting worked up about it just yet. 

But still, you flip through your copy of the play, flagging down all the potential kiss scenes. When you’re about halfway through, your phone lights up. You’ve got a new email from your director. 

Your first script reading is at the end of this week, which is good with you. That gives you enough time to read the play again and start thinking about your character. 

Then your phone lights up again. It’s another email from your director, but it’s only addressed to two people. 

Hey y/n and Changgu, 

Congrats on being cast as our leads this semester! I have no doubt you’ll both do amazing. 

As you probably already know, there are some kiss scenes in the play. I thought it might be a good idea for the three of us to meet before the script reading to talk about how that will play out. 

Ultimately, it’s up to the two of you, so discuss amongst yourselves and then tell me what you think on Friday. 

===

Your goal for the next 24 hours is to avoid Changgu and Changgu-related thoughts. You’re not going to look for him to initiate any kind of kissing conversation. He can come to you whenever he wants. 

Which happens to be as soon as you get to school the next day. You didn’t expect to see him so early in the morning. The only class you have together is chem so you assumed he would talk to you then, if at all. 

“Hey y/n,” he calls from down the hall. You try to smile like a normal person, not someone who was thinking about making out with him all night. 

“Hey,” you say awkwardly. You try to focus on stuffing your textbooks into your backpack so you don’t have to make eye contact. “What’s up?” 

“Oh,” he smiles, “I just wanted to talk to you about the play.” It might just be your imagination, but he seems as nervous as you. 

“Right, congrats on getting the lead role,” you say. “You deserve it.” 

“Same to you,” he replies. “It’s about time you were recognized for your talent.” Your brain goes blank for a second. You can’t believe he’s complimenting you. You shake the thought out of your head but you’re pretty sure you’re blushing. 

“I appreciate that.” 

“So.....” You let him trail off, praying he’ll bring it up so you don’t have to. “About the email we got yesterday....” He looks so stressed out. You bite the bullet and say it yourself. 

“The potential kissing thing.” 

“Yes!” You frown at him. He seemed way too enthusiastic about that. “I mean, yes, the kiss thing, what are your thoughts on it?” 

You take a second to think about it, because you don’t want to seem too eager. But god, for some reason he chooses this exact moment to run a hand through his hair and your poor fragile heart can’t handle that. 

“Yes.” It’s his turn to frown. He looks so adorable when he’s confused. He looks adorable all the time. You’re crushing on him way too hard. 

“Yes as in....?” 

“Yes, I’ll kiss you.” 

“Oh.” He seems shocked. 

“I mean, unless you don’t want to kiss me, which is totally valid, I completely understand, I won’t be offended.” 

He just smiles. “I’m cool with kissing you too.” 

“Right, okay, cool, awesome, great.” Your awkwardness makes him laugh, which makes you feel a little bit better. 

“Do you want me to reply to that email?” He asks. You nod. 

“I’m not good at forming coherent sentences, so I think that’s probably a good idea.” You pick up your backpack. “Good talk.” 

“Are you headed to north?” He asks. “I’ve got English over there, I can walk with you.” 

“Oh.” You try to act like you’re not internally screaming. “Yeah, sure, of course.” You start to walk towards the stairs, and he follows you. 

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y/n, it’s not like I’m about to make out with you right now.” You almost trip. “I’m just messing with you,” he says immediately, reaching out a hand to steady you. 

“You better be,” you tell him, but you’re smiling. 

“This is gonna be a fun semester,” is all he says in return. 

===

The meeting with your director only lasts 10 minutes. Changgu’s email was pretty clear, so the two of you don’t have much to say. Your director’s quite shocked you both agreed to kiss for real. 

“We talked about it a couple days ago, so we’re all good.” You nod, agreeing with Changgu. You’re glad he’s taken the lead in this conversation.

“Are you sure?” Your director asks. “Last year one of my students said no because she didn’t want her first kiss to be a stage kiss. If that’s how you feel, you can totally say no.” 

You know she’s talking to both of you, but she’s only looking at you. You wish you could sink into the floor. 

“If either of us change our mind, we’ll talk about it and let you know,” Changgu replies. If you were on your own right now, you’d probably cry out of embarrassment. 

But thanks to Changgu, everything is fine. As far as you’re concerned, he doesn’t know you’re a 17 year old loser who hasn’t had her first kiss yet. That’s a win in your books. 

“Alright,” is all she says. The two of you are dismissed and you immediately run out into the hallway. Changgu’s close behind.

“You good?” 

“Yeah,” you lie. 

Thankfully, he changes the subject. You talk about your chemistry class for a while, as you have a test coming up. There’s a practice question he got stuck on, so he asks for your opinion. The two of you sit outside the drama room comparing notes until everyone else shows up. 

The next 3 weeks are all about blocking and memorizing lines. Midterms are soon, so everyone is just struggling to get by. Your director doesn’t mention anything about your solo scenes with Changgu. You assume she knows you two are her best actors so she’s not worried. Hopefully she’ll leave it till the last minute so you don’t have to think about it. 

As for your relationship with Changgu, you’re much more comfortable around him. The first time you do the party scene and have to waltz with him, you’re incredibly anxious. It turns out Changgu has never waltzed before, so you have to walk him through the steps. Your nervousness fades as you both focus on getting the dance right. When you finally do, he’s so happy, it’s adorable. 

After that, you start talking to him more. Because you’re the leads, you’re closer with him than anyone else on the cast. You would call him your friend, but you still have that stupid crush on him. You try to forget about it, but the two of you are spending so much time together. If you’re not acting, you’re helping with other drama related things, like painting sets and finding props. 

On one of these days, you’re talking to Changgu about prom. It’s all anyone in your grade is talking about right now. Neither of you have decided if you’re going, even though all your friends are. You’re talking about how expensive the tickets are, when you notice one of your cast mates watching you from a distance. You keep talking to Changgu for a while, before heading off to check your phone. 

She walks over to you while you’re texting your mum. 

“I saw you and Changgu talking.....” she says awkwardly. You look up and smile. You have no idea where she’s going with this. “Are you two a thing?” 

You frown. “Um no, why do you ask?” 

“It just seems like you’re really close,” she says. You put your phone away and grab your water bottle. She follows you as you walk back over to Changgu. He’s getting paint to work on one of the backdrops. 

“We’re just friends,” you tell her. You know you probably don’t have a chance when it comes to Changgu. If someone else wants to go after him, you won’t stop them. He’s not yours. 

“Who’s just friends?” He asks when he sees the two of you walking over. You freeze for a second.

“You and y/n,” your cast mate says. You watch Changgu’s face to see if he’ll have any kind of reaction. He doesn’t.

“Oh, I thought that was common knowledge.” You smirk. 

“I was just wondering,” your cast mate shrugs. “You two have chemistry.” 

“Fifth period,” you respond awkwardly. She gives you a blank stare but Changgu laughs. You’re thankful he understands your stupid sense of humour. 

“Right, I’m gonna go help with props.” Once she’s gone, you take a few sips of your water, not sure what to say now that you and Changgu are alone. 

“Do people actually think we’re a couple now?” You keep drinking. “I guess we’re just really good actors.” 

“Haha, yeah.” You put your water bottle down and reach for one of the paints. He hands it to you and your hands brush for a second. You jump a little but he just smiles. It’s so annoying he has this effect on you. You’re probably going to forget all your lines after he kisses you. The entire play’s going to fall apart because you’re lowkey falling in love with him. 

“I meant to ask you,” Changgu says, breaking your thoughts. “We should run lines together.” 

“Don’t we?” During chem sometimes, you’ll sit in the back with him, helping him memorize some of them. It’s easier for him than doing it alone. That’s what he says, anyway. 

“I mean we should focus on the scenes between just me and you.” That shocks you. “We don’t have to, I just thought it might be a good idea since we’ll have to start blocking those soon.” He has a point. So far, your director’s only worked on group scenes.

“Yeah, sure,” you tell him. “That makes sense.” It’s just like rehearsal, you tell yourself. It’ll just be you two. Alone. 

“Are you free tomorrow? You have 4th period lunch, right?” You nod. “I can meet you outside north and we can sit on the bleachers. It should be quieter out there.” 

“Sure, that’s fine.” You don’t really know what to say. It’s just lunch with Changgu. It’s not a date or anything. It’s purely business, nothing else. That’s what you keep telling yourself. 

You really wish it was something else though. 

===

Changgu: I’m going to run to McDonald’s before we meet up

Changgu: can I get you anything? 😃

You try to discreetly reply to him under your desk. You’re not supposed to be on your phone during data management, but when you saw it light up you had to check. 

y/n: if you could get me an iced coffee, I’ll love you forever 🥺

The second after you send it, you realize what you’ve said. Hopefully he won’t think anything of it. You put your phone down and try to focus on your textbook, but it buzzes again. 

Changgu: anything for my juliet 😌

Changgu: do you want any food? 

This boy is going to ruin your life. You’re sure you’re blushing now, but no one’s paying attention to you, thank god. 

y/n: I’m good but I appreciate your kind offer 

Changgu: if you say so 

Changgu: you can always have some of my fries if you change your mind 

“Aw,” you say out loud. Your best friend, sitting next to you, gives you a weird look, but you ignore her. 

Changgu: I’ll see you in like half an hour 

You send him a thumbs up emoji and put your phone face down on your desk. No Changgu thoughts for the rest of this period. 

When class is over, your best friend asks if you’ll have lunch with her. You lie and say you have some English homework to work on in the library. Thankfully she doesn’t question you. You’ll tell her about what happens with Changgu afterwards anyway. You don’t want to make a big deal of it just yet. 

When you get to the bleachers, Changgu’s already there, script in hand. He’s got two iced coffees next to him. He hands you one when you sit down.

“Thank you,” you chug about half of it. “I needed that.” 

“Clearly.” He takes a sip of his own drink. “How was your morning?” He offers you some fries, so you take a handful. 

“It was okay,” you tell him. You’re confused as to why he’s making conversation with you. Your lunch break is only 45 minutes long. You figured he’d just want to rehearse for a while and leave. You won’t complain if he wants to spend all his time with you, you’re just shocked. “How about you?” 

“Not too bad.” He hands his script to you. “I think I finally have the last monologue memorized.” 

“Let’s hear it then.” You grab a pen out of your backpack. 

“Are you gonna take notes?” You nod. 

“Don’t you want feedback?” 

“Of course,” he says. “You’re just making me nervous.” You laugh at the irony. 

“You’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Go on.” 

He runs a hand through his hair and you temporarily lose your focus. When he starts talking, you’re snapped back to reality. 

You underline some parts where he should slow down, and star some areas where he needs to work on facial expressions. About halfway through, you put your pen down and just listen to him. 

When he notices, he stops. “What happened? Was I that bad?” You shake your head. 

“You’re doing great,” you say. “I just like watching you.” He blushes at that. 

You read him the last line he did, and he keeps going. He really is a good actor. You already knew that, but sitting here, just the two of you, makes you appreciate his talent even more. 

When he gets to the end, he picks up his iced coffee, pretending it’s poison. “Here’s to my love,” he says, taking a sip. You can’t help but laugh. He breaks character and laughs with you. “What are your thoughts?” 

“That last bit was amazing, please do that during the real thing.” You glance down at the script and your notes. As you scan the page, you realize he left out the last two lines. Thus with a kiss I die is where your eyes land. 

“y/n?” You look back up at him and smile. 

“Sorry.” You go through all your comments, making sure to praise him at certain parts too. When his eyes light up, you start to feel nervous again. That monologue was just a reminder that you’ll have to kiss him soon, and that thought alone gives you so much anxiety. 

“Your turn,” he says, taking the script from you. “Wait, where’s your copy?” 

“Lemme get it.” You open your bag but you can’t stop thinking about the kiss. Once you get the script, you sit back up and face him. He reaches for it but you don’t hand it to him. 

“What?” You hesitate for a second. You could just keep running lines with him and try to forget about it. Or you could tell him what’s on your mind so you don’t have to keep worrying about what he’s going to say. “y/n, what’s wrong?” 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“Anything.” You look into his eyes and he looks so genuinely concerned. Up until now you thought this was just a crush, but in this moment, you’re convinced you’re going to fall in love with him. 

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. 

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You’re scared to look at him. He probably thinks you’re a complete loser. When you open your eyes, he doesn’t look disgusted, which is a good start. 

“Okay.” You frown. “What’s wrong with that?” If he was anyone else, you would think they’re teasing you, but you can tell he genuinely doesn’t mind. 

“I just thought it might be weird.” 

“It’s not weird.” He finishes his iced coffee and puts the empty cup next to his backpack. “I’m just surprised you’re cool with me being your first kiss.” 

“Are you joking?” You say without thinking. He looks confused now. Surely he knows you have a crush on him. “You’re so nice, and talented, and thoughtful, and cute, and I’m just really glad to have you as a....“ You hesitate for a second, not sure if you should call him your friend. He doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. 

“You think I’m cute?” He’s smiling at you. 

“Shut up.” You go to hit him with your script, but he grabs your hand before you can.

“I have an idea.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” It’s your turn to be confused now. 

“Do you want your first kiss to be a stage kiss?” He asks. 

“I already told you, I don’t really mind.” 

“No,” he says. “I mean, do you want it to be us in front of the entire cast kissing for the first time during rehearsal?” 

“What other option is there?” 

“I could kiss you now.” You pull your hand away from him. “I’m being serious y/n.” You take a sip of your iced coffee so you can think for a second. “You said you want your first kiss to be me, right?” 

“Want isn’t the word I would use but yes, okay.” He smiles at that. 

“And we’re going to have to kiss each other quite a lot, yes?” 

“Probably.” You’re blushing at this point. You suddenly become aware of how little space there is between the two of you. It would be so easy for him to just lean in- 

“So why not get the first time over with?” You gasp, which makes him laugh. “I just mean.....” he trails off. 

“You just mean what, Changgu?” You know he’s being considerate and genuine, but there’s still a small part of you that thinks he might be messing with you. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

You swear your heart almost stops, but you nod anyway, leaning into him. He meets you halfway, and you close your eyes. You’re expecting a split second peck, but he gently presses his lips to yours. It’s clear he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. When you part your lips slightly, he deepens the kiss. That catches you off guard. He must sense it, because he pulls away. 

“Was that okay?” He whispers. You can’t stop yourself from grinning. You wish you could kiss him again, right now. 

“It was more than okay.” He laughs and kisses your cheek. That surprises you. 

“Sorry,” he says. “You’re just really cute.” 

“What?” Your eyes go wide. He’s definitely blushing now. This boy just kissed you, on the bleachers, in broad daylight, without second thought. But he’s blushing because he said you’re cute. 

He ignores you and glances at his phone. “We have 5 minutes before chem, should we head over?” 

“What is happening?” You say quietly. He smirks and puts his script back into his bag. You just sit and watch in shock. 

He thinks you’re cute. Yeo Changgu thinks you’re cute. And he kissed you. What the hell? 

“Let’s go.” He hands you your pen from earlier. 

“Right.” You take it from him and throw it in your bag. You don’t know how you manage to stand up and follow him to class, but somehow, you do. 

When you get to your class, he sits with his friends and you find yours. They ask how your lunch break was and where you got off to. You tell them the same lie from earlier. 

You can’t stop thinking about Changgu for the rest of the day. You were into him to begin with, but now you’ve definitely fallen. You really hope it’s the same for him. 

===

“He kissed you?” You were afraid your best friend would be mad at you for not telling her about your lunch date earlier, but she’s just as confused as you. You called her the second you got home so you two could figure out what the hell Changgu’s thinking. 

“Twice.” 

“Oh my god y/n, he definitely likes you.” 

“What?” You suspect it too, but it’s nice to know she has the same idea. 

“He literally asked if he could kiss you, obviously he wanted to.” 

“Perhaps you have a point...” You avoid looking at her. “He sent me a text a little while ago.” 

“What does it say?” 

“I’ll send you a screenshot.” You put the call on hold for a second so you can go to your messages. Your response was kind of lame, and you know she’ll call you out on it, but you send her the picture anyway. 

“y/n,” your friend says as soon as you resume the call. “Let me know when you want to rehearse our scenes again, smiley face.” 

“He’s just being nice.” 

“No he’s not, he’s looking for an excuse to be alone with you again.” 

“You honestly think he likes me?” You ask quietly. 

“I do.” She looks at the screenshot again. “He was clearly flirting with you earlier as well, anything for my juliet, I get why you’re so into him.” 

You roll your eyes. “I really, really like him,” you tell her. “I don’t want to mess this up.” 

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing, cause it seems like he’s into it,“ she says. “But you have to make a move at some point.” 

“Easier said than done.” 

“Don’t be such a wimp.” She says. “You’ve liked him for how long? And we’re graduating soon anyway, if he rejects you, you don’t have to see him again.” 

“True,” you say, “but I’m not asking him out anytime soon.” 

“Let me know how that works out for you.” You roll your eyes, but you’re grateful she’s willing to give you advice. If you didn’t have her you’d be googling things like how to get someone to fall in love with you, which would just be sad. 

You can do this, you tell yourself. Changgu obviously likes you to some extent, all you have to do is make him fall for you and then you’ll be set. You’ve got this. 

===

It’s 2 weeks until opening night, and you and Changgu are doing amazing. Since your kiss on the bleachers, you’ve stopped avoiding him all the time. In fact, you’d say you initiate about half of your conversations with him now.

He seems down in rehearsal one day, so you text him when you get home, to make sure everything is okay. He admits he’s not totally confident in his acting skills, especially compared to you. That surprises you, but you tell him that you sometimes feel the same way, but it’s not something to be too worried about. You remind him you’re in this together, which makes him feel significantly better. Before you know it, it’s 3am and you’re both still talking to each other. This becomes your new normal.  

You’re seeing Changgu in chem and during rehearsal, but you spend your time coming home thinking about what you could say to him next. Normally by the time you think of something, you already have a message from him. He understands your sense of humour, and before you know it, the two of you have tons of inside jokes. Even if you can’t think of something to say, you’re able to find the perfect meme to send him instead. Your crush on him has grown exponentially in the month and a half you’ve been in this play together. You feel like it might be the same for him. 

It seems like other people are picking up on it too. The first time Changgu kisses you in front of everyone, they’re shocked with how comfortable you are with each other. Someone jokes that this probably isn’t the first time you’ve kissed but you both laugh awkwardly and change the subject. 

Originally, your director had quite a few kissing scenes, but she decides it’s overkill after a couple of run throughs. 

“This is too steamy for Shakespeare,” she tells you one day. 

“We’re not making out,” you say, trying not to blush. You and Changgu have probably kissed onstage over 100 times, but it still makes you feel a certain way if you think about it for too long. 

“I can feel the passion between the two of you, you may as well be.” You make a shocked face at Changgu, who’s standing a couple metres away, also listening to this conversation. That makes him laugh. 

“If you say so.” 

She changes some of the scenes to Changgu kissing your hand, or you holding his, just to make it less affectionate. She’s constantly reminding you Romeo and Juliet were children, which makes you both cringe. 

You thought your favourite scene would be the one where Romeo and Juliet first meet, but it’s not. You prefer the second act, where Romeo monologues and you sit outside on the balcony. It gives you the wonderful opportunity to sit and listen to Changgu speak. Even if he is acting, you feel like there’s some sort of truth in his words. You got so distracted during the first full run through that you forgot your lines. Someone offstage had to prompt you, which was insanely embarrassing. Thankfully Changgu wasn’t phased, he just went back and started his monologue again. You made an active effort to focus this time, and you were okay after that. 

Although Changgu has his lines down perfectly, he still asks you to run them with him during chemistry since the two of you are always done your coursework so early. You’re starting to think your best friend might be right, and that he does just want to spend time with you. After rehearsal one day, you decide to shoot your shot. 

“Changgu,” you say, walking over to where he’s putting some props away backstage. “Do you wanna maybe meet up tomorrow and we can like, work on lines or blocking or waltzing or all of the above or something.” It all comes out in a jumbled mess because you’re speaking so fast. You should’ve texted him and asked instead of doing it in person. 

“I’m gonna need you to say that again,” he says, with a smile on his face. You take a deep breath. 

“I was asking if you want to run lines again tomorrow,” you look into his eyes. “Just me and you.” 

You might be imagining it, but it seems like he’s flustered. “Oh, yeah, sure.” 

“We don’t have to-”

“No, I want to.” Your heart rate’s definitely gone up now. “Bleachers?” 

You shake your head. “Come here,” you gesture around you. “It’ll be empty at lunch.” 

“Sure,” he says, glancing at his phone. His smile fades. “I’m so sorry, I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“For sure,” you say. “See you then.” 

===

You get to the theatre before Changgu the next day, which makes you panic for a second. He’s not the kind of guy who would ditch you like that, but you’re still scared. Until you check your phone and see a message saying he’s running a little late. 

You take the opportunity to practice some of your monologues alone. You know your lines and you can do them fine when you’re with the rest of the cast, but for some reason, when you’re on your own, your flow gets so messed up. You pace around the stage, saying your lines to yourself, practicing your intonation. Your hand’s moving up and down as you figure out the rise and fall of each sentence. 

You’re so caught up in yourself that you’re startled when you notice Changgu sitting in the front row, eating candy. 

“Jesus Christ,” you say, jumping off the stage. “How long have you been here?” 

“Only a couple of minutes,” he reaches into his bag and pulls out a box of Smarties. You take it from him. 

“Let’s go,” you say, after you pop a couple in your mouth. You keep eating them as you walk up the stairs to the stage. 

Once you’re both onstage, you run through your major scenes together. You skip over the monologues because you only have about 20 minutes before chemistry. 

When Changgu goes in for the kiss during the party scene, you turn your head so he winds up kissing your cheek instead. 

“What was that for?” He asks, breaking character. You point at the clock on the wall. 

“5 minutes till class.” You head over to the stairs at the side of the stage so you can get your backpack, but Changgu grabs your hand.

“Wait.” You turn around and hold his gaze. “Skip chem and stay here.” You’ve held his hand so many times over the past month, you interlock your fingers without second thought. It’s just a habit at this point. 

“What?” You’re surprised he’s willing to skip class just to stay with you a little longer. You’re more than happy to, but you just need a moment for this to sink in. 

“We don’t have a test, we aren’t going to miss anything important,” he says. “Even if we do, we’re the smartest people in that class, we’ll be fine.” 

“You’re not wrong.” 

“So stay with me a little bit longer.” You nod, because you don’t trust yourself to form a coherent sentence right now. 

You follow him to the centre of the stage, where he just sits down on the floor. You don’t question it and sit down next to him, facing the empty auditorium. You can’t believe this is your last time performing on this stage. 

“What are you thinking about?” Changgu asks. He’s still holding your hand, and he kisses the back of it. You’re so thrown off by how affectionate he’s being right now. But you aren’t complaining. “You seem like you’re deep in thought.” 

“I just can’t believe this is my last show here,” you reply. “I’ve spent four years on this stage, it feels weird having to leave.” 

“You’re going out on a good note,” he says. You nod in agreement. 

“I’m excited,” you tell him. “Opening night is always fun.” 

“Is it?” He doesn’t seem too sure. “I find it more nerve wracking than anything.” 

You gasp. “Don’t tell me Yeo Changgu gets stage fright.” 

“I don’t,” he says immediately. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone, you know?” 

“You don’t, and you won’t.” You bump your shoulder against his. “Everyone loves you.” 

“Do you love me?” You can’t tell if he’s joking. You decide to answer honestly. 

“I definitely like you, if that counts for anything.” 

“It counts for a lot.” He pulls his hand away from yours and you let out a small gasp, sad he’s moving away. He laughs at that but turns around. When Changgu lies down with his head in your lap, you’re even more caught off guard. You don’t know what he’s playing at anymore, but this almost feels natural for the two of you. You’re not uncomfortable, just surprised. 

“Is this okay?” He asks. When you say yes, he smiles. “So tell me more y/n, what’s this about liking me?” 

You roll your eyes. “I wish I never said anything.” 

“No, you don’t.” You look down at him. You’re about 80% sure he likes you back. All the late night texts, and inside jokes, and the way he’s looking at you right now makes it seem like he does anyway. 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Good.” 

“Is it?” You frown. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Cause I like you too.” 

“Don’t play with me.” 

“I’m not!” He says right away. “I swear I’m being serious.” He seems genuinely concerned that you don’t believe him, which is incredibly cute. 

“Tell me more then, when did you know?” 

“Second rehearsal, I think. I mean I’ve kind of liked you since Twelfth Night, but recently I’ve been like really crushing on you.” You’re surprised at how quickly he answers. “Right before second rehearsal, you were just outside here, running lines like you were earlier today.” 

“What’s so special about that?” You absentmindedly start playing with his hair, which makes him jump. You move your hand away as quickly as possible. 

“No, it’s okay,” he says quietly. You run your fingers through his hair again, slowly this time. The sigh he lets out has your mind wandering to dangerous places. 

“Anyway,” he breaks your thoughts. “You know that thing you do with your hand, while you’re speaking, to try and get the flow of your speech right?” 

“Uh, yeah.” You don’t know where he’s going with this. 

“You kind of look like you’re conducting an orchestra or something.” You still don’t understand what about that makes him like you. When you look down and make eye contact with him again, he’s smiling up at you in such a cute way that you have to look away immediately. You’re scared you might do something dumb, like kiss him. Which wouldn’t really work in this scenario anyway since you’d have to bend down weirdly, it’s just not worth it. You keep playing with his hair instead. “And when you get a line wrong, you don’t get flustered the way I do. You just laugh and move on.” 

“Well, yeah,” you shrug, “what’s the point in getting upset?” 

“I wish I had that sort of mindset. Do you know how great you are, y/n?” You can’t help blushing at that. “And you’re ridiculously cute.” 

“Says you,” you mutter. He sits up and turns around so he can face you. “What are you doing?” He’s so close to you, it makes you slightly anxious. 

“I just want to look at you,” he says. His eyes are completely focused on yours but you’re not scared. You just don’t know what to say. So naturally you wind up saying something stupid. 

“Shut up.” He doesn’t even blink.

“Make me.” 

You know he wants to kiss you, and you definitely want to kiss him, but you’re still hesitant. You lean into him slightly, letting him make the next move. He gives you a quick kiss and then pulls away. But then he does it again, and again. You keep waiting for him to kiss you properly, but he won’t stop teasing you. 

“Changgu,” you whine after he pulls away for the 5th time. 

“What?” He laughs. You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you. He’s surprised at first, but then his arm’s around you and you melt into his touch. 

You give him a light kiss, and finally, he gives you want you want. His other hand makes its way into your hair to hold you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as he places kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You can’t help but let out a small moan. He pulls back for a second, looking shocked. 

“Sorry,” you say awkwardly. He smirks. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispers. When he kisses you again, you smile. 

You have no idea how much time has gone by when you two finally separate. He rests his forehead against yours, while you try to slow your heart rate down. This boy’s going to be the death of you. 

“Was that okay?” He asks, quietly. He sounds a little scared, like he doesn’t want to push you too far. You appreciate that more than he could know. 

“So good,” you murmur, opening your eyes. You give him another quick kiss before you sit back, putting some space between the two of you. Otherwise, you won’t let go of him. He doesn’t seem to care, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer the second you move away. 

“Thank god,” he says. You take his hand and place it flat against your chest so he can feel how fast your heart is beating. 

“You’re not good for my health,” you tell him. He just smiles and moves your hand to his chest. His heart’s beating just as fast as yours. 

“The feeling’s mutual.” You laugh at that. 

“You have to be careful though,” you tell him, “you can’t start kissing me like that onstage. I’ll forget all my lines.” 

He smirks. “Don’t worry, I’ll save it for when we’re alone.” Your jaw drops. “Do I really make you that flustered?” You nod, as his hand finds it’s way into your hair again. 

“It’s not my fault,” you reply, avoiding eye contact, “you’re the one who doesn’t kiss by the book, Romeo.” 

“I’m not Romeo right now,” he says, quietly, turning your head to look at him. “I’m Changgu, and I’m absolutely crazy about you.” 

“I feel like this is fever dream.” He laughs at that. 

“Why?” 

“I like you so, so, so much,” you tell him. “I have for a long time.” 

“Sorry it took me so long to clue in.” 

“Damn right, you should be sorry.” You both laugh at that. 

Suddenly, the bell rings and you jump away from each other. When you glance at the clock, you notice it’s only 5 more minutes until rehearsal starts. 

“We need to get ourselves together,” you say, getting up. You pull Changgu up with you and head towards your backpacks. 

“Don’t you think you should let go of my hand?” He asks. You let go of him immediately, not sure what that means. “I just don’t want to be awkward in front of other people.” He says, running a hand through his hair. You just nod because he kind of has a point. You can’t think about it too much right now, you need to focus on the play. 

While you’re getting your script out and fixing your hair, everyone else shows up. You all go through the play start to finish one time, and it’s close to perfect. When you’re finished, everyone sits in a circle onstage. You wind up next to Changgu, of course. 

Your director gives out notes while you try to forget you were making out with him in the same spot just a while ago. You nervously fidget with your hair, which winds up in you accidentally touching your neck, and then you start thinking about Changgu’s lips there-

“y/n,” his voice says from next to you. Your eyes snap open, you hadn’t even realized you closed them. 

“What?” You give him a dirty look. Does he know you got distracted because of him? 

“Did you hear that?” He points to your director, who’s looking at you expectantly, just like everyone else in your cast. You try hard not to blush. 

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” You punch Changgu in the arm, which just makes him roll his eyes. Your director notices, but she doesn’t say anything. 

Once you’re done with that, the entire cast gets lectured on how the next week’s going to go down. All of you are insanely tired already, you’re scared as to what you’ll be like in a couple of days. 

When you glance beside you, you notice Changgu yawning. He was taking notes but it seems like he’s given up at this point, throwing his pen and script to the side. You move closer to him, and take them both so you can keep up with everything your director’s saying. You don’t want either of you to miss anything. 

He smiles and mouths “thanks” when he notices. You’re writing down final reminders when Changgu’s head winds up on your shoulder. You and your cast mate across the room make eye contact. He frowns at you and you immediately look away, trying to ignore how close Changgu is to you right now.

When you put the pen down, Changgu immediately takes your hand. You don’t fight him, but it makes you smile. You’re definitely going to tease him about this later. 

When you’re finally done, Changgu gets up and takes his script back from you. He promises to send you pictures of it later. You’re okay with that because it gives him a reason to keep talking to you. 

That night, you’re lying in bed, trying to go to sleep when it hits that you have no idea where you stand with him. Are you a couple now? Are you still friends? You’ve never dated anyone before so you don’t know how this works. 

You think about it some more, but you don’t want to get distracted so soon before opening night. You tell yourself you’ll confront him about it after the show’s over. You don’t want to make things complicated now. 

===

Opening night is so much better than you could have imagined. The entire cast was perfect, everyone’s performance was amazing, you had so much fun. When the play was over, your family gave you the biggest hugs. They complimented Changgu on his performance too, which made him blush. 

The rest of the shows are also great. As much as you enjoy being onstage, the rush of getting ready beforehand is even better. You take it upon yourself to do Changgu’s makeup, which winds up in him flirting with you and you kissing him when no one’s looking just to shut him up. 

Your last night is the best night. All of you put so much work into this show, and it truly pays off. When you do your curtain call next to Changgu, neither of you can stop smiling. There’s no way you could’ve done the show without him. 

When the curtains close, he pulls you in for a hug. The fact that you’re ending high school with a bang, and you’re in the arms of the boy you’ve had a crush on for so long makes you think you’ve never been so happy in your life. 

Once the entire cast has changed back into their day clothes, you pile into your friends’ cars to drive to Pizza Hut. Your director promised to buy you all dinner when you were finally finished the production. 

You and Changgu split up and go in different cars. On the way, all your friends ask if you two are dating. You tell them no of course not, but they don’t believe you. It feels nice to have a kind of boyfriend. You still need to figure that out. But for now, you just want to enjoy the night with your friends. 

When you get to the restaurant, you all sit down at the biggest table they have. It’s almost 9:30, so it’s pretty empty, thankfully. 

The group orders tons of pizza and drinks, and you all reminisce while eating. It’s bittersweet for you. A lot of the younger cast mates tell you how much they’ll miss you and what an awesome job you did. You’d probably cry if you weren’t still wearing your stage makeup. 

After you eat, everyone argues over what to get for dessert. You’re sitting back, laughing, when Changgu makes eye contact with you from across the table. He smiles and gestures to his phone. You take yours out of your bag and there’s a text from him. 

Changgu: come outside with me 

You look back up at him but he’s already standing up and walking towards the door. You tell your friend you’ll be back and follow him. 

The air outside is a little cool but it’s a nice feeling after being cramped inside with so many people. 

You look to your left and Changgu’s sitting on a bench there. You sit down cross legged, facing him. 

“Why did you ask me to come out here?” 

“I wanted to be alone with you for a minute.” He absentmindedly takes your hand. 

“Well, we’re alone.” You’re starting to get scared now. What if he tells you he doesn’t want a relationship and everything that happened between you two was just for the play? You don’t know what you’ll do if that happens. A chill rushes through you and you shudder. 

“Are you cold?” Changgu asks, right away, moving closer to you. You shake your head, but he takes off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders anyway. 

“Why are you being so romantic right now?” You stick your arms through the sleeves. The jacket smells like him, which makes you feel some type of way. You wish you could keep it forever. “You can drop the act, Romeo.” 

“I just want everyone inside to know you’re mine.” That takes a second for your brain to process. 

“Yours?” 

“I mean,” he looks nervous. “If you want to be.” 

“Are you dumb?” He looks really scared now, which makes you smile. “Of course I do.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. You’ve kissed tons of times, but this feels different. Good different. When he pulls away, he kisses your forehead. You can’t stop smiling. 

“Wait,” you say, leaning back a little. Your arms are still wrapped around him. He frowns. “Are you my boyfriend now?” 

“Um, yes?” 

“Oh my god,” you say to yourself. “I can’t believe it.” That makes him laugh. 

“My girlfriend’s so cute.” Hearing him say that feels almost euphoric. 

“You’re such a dork.” 

“I,” he kisses you. “Yeo Changgu,” he kisses you again. “Am all,” another kiss. “Yours.” 

You genuinely can’t stop smiling, you don’t even have words. You just look at him in awe. 

“Wait,” he says, wiping the side of your mouth with his thumb. “I messed up your lipstick, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “It won’t be the last time.” It’s his turn to blush. You pick up your phone to check your reflection. You look fine, thankfully. 

“We should go back inside, shouldn’t we?” He asks. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Me neither.” That makes you laugh, but you get up anyway. 

He takes your hand as you both walk back into the restaurant. No one’s noticed you left, and no one notices when you two sit down beside each other. 

You all eat dessert, and then your director makes a nice little speech about how well you all did and how proud she is of you. 

She’s sitting down, when you stand up. You don’t even know why. Everyone seems kind of surprised. 

“Sorry,” you say. “I wanted to say something too.” You glance at Changgu, who’s smiling at you. He takes your hand, which gives you some courage. 

“Go ahead, y/n.” 

“As you all know, this is my last show with you. It’s been so exciting, and I can’t think of a better way to end my high school career. Theatre has connected me with so many amazing people,” Changgu squeezes your hand, which flusters you a little bit. “I’m just really grateful to have met you all and I’m going to miss you like hell.” 

Everyone claps and raises their glasses for you, which makes you roll your eyes a bit, but you appreciate it anyway. You’re about to sit down when you suddenly remember. 

“Wait!” Everyone looks at you again. “One more thing.” 

You sit down next to Changgu and pull him in for a kiss in front of everyone. There are some gasps, lots of people saying they knew it, some people clap for the two of you. Changgu kisses your cheek before the two of you let go of each other. 

“We saw you making out outside earlier,” someone next to you says. You and Changgu both make shocked faces at each other. 

“We all knew it would happen,” says someone else. 

“I’m so confused,” one of the freshman at the other end of the table says. “Changgu and y/n? That makes no sense.” 

His friend sitting next to him smacks him, which makes you all laugh. 

All in all, everyone’s insanely happy for you, and you’re incredibly thankful. 

Although you’re sad your last high school play has come to an end, it’s okay. You made the most of your time, and things ended on an amazing note. 

As for Changgu, you know you have so much more to do with him. You’ll go to prom, graduate, spend the entire summer together, go on cute dates, and kiss him again and again and again. 

But for now, holding his hand under the table, surrounded by some of your closest friends, laughing and having fun - that’s more than enough for you. 

[sandershospitalau]

The Nurse’s Rally

Chapter 1

Archive Of Our Own

————————

It was the perfect day for a protest. Not by Virgil's standards, of course. He would have preferred a cloudy day, dark enough to shade the large crowd gathering just outside Sanders Hospital. Instead, he got a blistering sunny day that made the colors bleed and blend into his eyes. And everyone would have to see the horrific t-shirts Roman had designed to support the Rally.

All the nurses going with Virgil on their parade through Miami wore the t-shirt. At least it was purple, to match the color of the nurse’s scrubs. But the design made Virgil want to burn the shirt. Roman, with a bit of technical know-how from Logan, created a thin, gangly cartoon nurse giving the world a thumbs-up beside the phrase ‘Funding for Florida’s Nurses’. Virgil knew it was a cartoon version of himself, even though it lacked some of his distinctive features, like his dyed hair and the permanent bags under his eyes. But the nurse, dressed in classic blue scrubs, looked exactly like Virgil if he gave up on being an individual. He couldn’t even hide the shirt with his hoodie, since Thomas and Joan insisted that Virgil look semi-professional.

So there he stood at the edge of the street near the front of Sanders Hospital in a caricature t-shirt and clean jeans, chewing his lower lip as he checked over the march route on his phone. He’d spent ages on the route alone, making sure to stop at every hospital in town where nurses agreed to protest. And then there was the part of making sure they could walk there and not get run over while not seeming like they were giving into the man by getting approval for everything. Was it even a protest if a corporation was backing it? Did a hospital count as a corporation? Virgil was this close to losing his mind.

“He’s coming with us!” a familiar voice cheered. Patton emerged from the crowd dragging his husband Logan behind him. Both sported the Nurse’s Rally t-shirt. Patton still tied his cardigan over the shirt to add that distinctive Patton flair. Virgil couldn’t remember the last time he saw Logan in a t-shirt. Even after a near-death experience with a rare South American disease, he strolled out of the hospital in a polo and tie.

“I finally convinced him to join the march,” Patton declared, hopping beside Virgil.

“I believe the term ‘kidnapped’ would be more fitting,” Logan huffed.

“Okay, but Logan, why did you approve on this design?” Virgil snapped, pointing at the nurse on his shirt. “Why did you let Roman get away with this?”

“I wasn’t involved in the design process,” Logan explained. “I merely assisted Roman in understanding how to use graphic design software. I had no input on what the shirt would look like.”

“I think it’s cute,” Patton giggled. “It’s teenage Virgil!”

“Patton, please don’t say that,” Virgil shuddered. “Oh, too late, the memories are here. So much cringe, ah!”

“Drinks on the house, big boys!” Remy popped up beside the three men with a full cup holder. “Don’t tell the Critic.”

“Aw, thank you, Remy!” Patton chirped, taking one of the drinks. Virgil and Logan took theirs too. Remy kissed his fingers and gave them a peace sign as he walked away.

“Punch Roman in the gut for me when you see him!” Virgil shouted.

“Will do, boo!” Remy called. Virgil put his phone away and glanced up and down the street. A few of the early-bird reporters were already circling, snatching random staff for interviews on the rally and taking into their camera. Virgil spotted Terrence from VIN3 chatting with one of Virgil’s nurses, casual enough that it took a second glance to realize Terrence was interviewing them.

“Okay, we’re heading out in a couple of minutes,” Virgil huffed. “Where is our banner? If Roman wants us to carry a banner, he needs to get it to me now or I’m not holding it.” Sure enough, Thomas hurried through the crowd with Emile at his side and a banner tucked and folded under his arm. Emile was one of the few people not wearing the t-shirt, instead going for his usual tan cardigan and blue tie. He kept a megaphone at his side.

“We had to fix a few things,” Thomas explained. He unfolded the banner and gave one end to Patton. Virgil held his breath as he waited for whatever horrors Roman and his creative underlings invented to be revealed. The banner was a colorful red that needed four people to hold it. Symbols from every major hospital and clinic participating in the walk lined the banner, from the Sanders Hospital rainbow caduceus to the blue flower of St. Gemma’s. The phrase ‘Funding for Florida’s Nurses’ sat in the middle of the circle of symbols.

“Good job, Princey,” Virgil muttered as he held the middle of the banner up. “Alright, Thomas, we’re ready to go.”

“Give the signal, Emile!” Thomas declared.

“Avengers, assemble!” Emile laughed, holding up the megaphone. The megaphone groaned and squealed, drawing everyone’s attention. Virgil, Logan, Patton, and Thomas made their way down the street as the crowd followed behind them, and the Nurse’s Rally truly began.

Ironically, protesting the government required a bit of cooperation with the government. Police officers helped clear a path through Miami, redirecting traffic as the march looped around to collect new members from local hospitals. Some joined up midway through while others crafted a couple signs. More reporters lurked along the sidewalks, carefully following the march’s progress. Virgil just prayed the group wouldn’t get laughed off the steps of City Hall for protesting something as seemingly useless as a cut to statewide nursing education. If other hospitals in the city hadn’t supported the rally, it would have died before it launched. Virgil had a whole lineup of speakers discussing the importance of educated nurses, even adding in speeches on other major flaws of the medical system of America. And Virgil was the first speaker. He tried not to think about that.

One of the best parts of the whole rally was actually Patton’s idea. Virgil wasn’t sure if Patton realized it was his idea, since it had been randomly suggested during a lunch break. A few of the signs, specially designed so they wouldn’t be read as weapons by the police, read ‘Help Fund Nursing Education’. The volunteers held out buckets to the crowd, passing them around and collecting whatever cash people could give. If the rally collected enough cash, the Miami medical community could make a huge donation to the major medical colleges in the state!

“We’re at our first stop!” Patton cheered as the protesters neared the main entrance to Baptist Children’s Hospital. Virgil’s heart soared when he saw the nurses and doctors gathered outside, all drawing their attention to the large crowd. It was working. Pediatric doctors and nurses who knew Patton from the local social circle of pediatrics said hi and exchanged a few professional words before mingling into the crowd. Virgil glanced back to see Roman, Nate, and Remy walking not too far from the front, with Roman being the only one in a rally shirt. Roman met Virgil’s eyes. Virgil tugged at his shirt and raised an eyebrow. Roman simply did that stupid pose of his with his arms overhead like he was royalty. Virgil smirked, rolling his eyes.

Everything Virgil had been working on ran through the back of his mind like a checklist as he continued down the planned route. As long as he was the one keeping everything on track, the others could enjoy themselves. Patton, popular as always, joined up with his pediatrics friends and began cooking up a junk pile of nursing puns. With the powers of other child-at-heart doctors, he was an unstoppable pun machine. Logan was prepared for death. Thomas and Emile strolled side by side, already talking about the next big project at Sanders (something involving Ben, the psychiatric department’s emotional support dog). The crowd behind him continued to grow with doctors and nurses. He was so wrapped up in the growing size, imagining the rally collapsing into a riot with City Hall on fire, Virgil only realized where his next stop was when he saw the oh so familiar statue of Saint Gemma, the patron saint of students and pharmacists.

The nurses of St. Gemma’s Hospital crowded around the old statue. Those not wearing the purple rally shirts wore their black scrubs instead. Virgil spotted a few old coworkers mixed into the group; fellow nurses from the psychiatric department, those who had only just started when Virgil left, the few nurses that seemed close to tolerating Virgil back then. Virgil, Logan, Patton, and Thomas paused for a few moments to allow the staff to blend into the march.

“Never thought I’d see you in a position like this,” one nurse scoffed as she passed Virgil. “Good for you.”

“I don’t see a lot of doctors joining us,” Thomas sighed, squinting to see the crowd better. “Spot any old friends, Virge?”

“Oh, yeah!” Patton chirped. “Gosh, you’ve worked at Sanders for so long, I nearly forgot you came from here!” Mixed into the swarm of purple shirts and black scrubs, Virgil spotted a black bowler hat lingering just above the tallest heads, held up by a pale hand with dirty fingernails. A yellow gloved hand snatched the hat back. The crowd cleared just enough for Virgil to spot Dr. D and Remus. Dr. D wore his usual off-work attire, with his yellow gloves and bowler hat. He’d zipped up his black jacket and fluffed out the hood slightly, revealing a golden shirt with a high collar. His dark gray trousers had a streak of yellow running down the sides. Remus wore his green leather jacket and lime scarf over the rally shirt. He'd graffiti-ed the cartoon nurse with crude imagery. Dr. D fixed his hat back on his head while Remus giggled. The crowd formed back around the two men and Virgil lost sight of them.

“Don’t see anyone worth talking to,” Virgil huffed. “Come on, we only have a couple more stops.” The banner continued on. The march crawled down the streets, aided by the police setting up blockades against the traffic that could potentially run the protesters over. Virgil’s hands grew stiff holding up the banner. What if he tripped on it cause he couldn’t hold it up? He glanced over his shoulder. He couldn’t spot Dr. D anywhere.

“Virgil, are you prepared for your opening speech?” Logan asked, his voice jarring Virgil enough to stop him from tripping over his own feet.

“I memorized it,” Virgil admitted. “Hopefully.” Right, one of the few things still up in the air about the rally. With any luck, Virgil wouldn’t have a heart attack giving his speech.

“While you’re doing your speech, I need to make sure the other speakers arrived safely,” Thomas added. “Gosh, I know I have a list of our speakers…” He scrambled for his phone while trying not to drop the banner. “After you, we have Dr. Tahan from Mercy Hospital, followed by Nurse MacNamara…” As Thomas listed off the speakers he and Virgil recruited, the anxious nurse looked back again. He could see Dr. D. He walked in the middle of the crowd, glancing at Virgil occasionally as he examined those marching around him. Virgil wished he could pull his hood over his head as the group took a corner towards one of the smaller clinics signed up for the march.

The next time Virgil looked back, Dr. D was closer.

He was close enough that Virgil could just make out the scars trailing down the left side of his face. He still looked around with the same calm attitude, but Virgil knew he was coming for him. What would he say if he got close to Thomas and the others? It was time for some crisis aversion.

“Hey, Emile, can you take my place?” Virgil asked, looking around Logan and Thomas to the friendly therapist. “My hands are sore.”

“Sure!” Emile said, slipping through the crowd. Virgil and Emile swapped the banner with one fluid move. Virgil stumbled to not bump into anyone as he walked behind Emile. He stared at his feet as he carefully slowed his pace. The crowd strolled past him, more bodies collecting in front of him. He walked slow enough to fall back through the march. Shiny black shoes slipped into rhythm beside his purple sneakers.

“What do you want, D?” Virgil huffed, meeting Dr. D’s stare.

“Why would I want anything?” Dr. D asked.

“Anxiety!” a grating voice cheered behind him. Remus latched onto Virgil’s neck in a shoulder hug, practically swinging on him. “I’ve missed you!” Virgil had to shove the janitor off. Remus held out his phone like he was going to take a selfie. “See, loyal viewers, Virgil Lawson has returned!”

“You’re still doing that talk show?” Virgil groaned. “Seriously, who even watches that? No, no!” Virgil shook out his hands like he was trying to push away the distraction. “I want to know why you’re here, D!”

“This is a good cause,” Dr. D explained. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t support it. Education is vital for good nurses.”

“I don’t want you ruining things,” Virgil growled. “I’ve spent ages planning this.”

“Virgil, why in the world would I want to ruin your rally?” Dr. D huffed, fiddling with his gloves. “It only makes things worse for me. I don’t want incompetent nurses assisting on my surgeries.”

“You already force out anyone you don’t like from surgeries, that’s nothing for you,” Virgil noted. “Maybe you replaced that with adding random doctors to your rosters so you can, I dunno, get free skin cream. Who knows what else you’ve done to get what you want since I quit?”

“You’ve certainly been up to a lot since then!” Remus chirped. “Finally lose the V card, Virgin?”

“I don’t put up with your nonsense anymore, Remus,” Virgil snapped. “I don’t film your show anymore and I don’t talk to you.”

“You’re talking to him right now,” Dr. D said.

“Go bug someone else!” Virgil huffed. Remus frowned, but scurried back through the march.

“You’ve gotten a bit of a reputation from what I’ve heard,” Dr. D chuckled. “Rubbing brass with your hospital president? Organizing this rally? Very impressive. I couldn’t imagine the old you doing any of this.”

“I’ve heard plenty about you too,” Virgil growled. “You’re still cutting corners. You defy DNR orders, you’ve avoided telling patients about surgical risks multiple times, you’ve outright denied people surgery! You’re still as bad as you were when I left, maybe even worse. Frankly, I’m shocked you haven’t been fired or arrested!”

“I didn’t think you were one to listen to gossip,” Dr. D muttered, lips pursing together. “Glass houses, Virgil.” Virgil glanced up at his friends. They chatted amongst each other without a care, smiling. Dr. D’s eyes glimmered, and he glanced up at the front. Dr. D smiled. “I can only assume you haven’t been mentioned in any of these rumors.”

“And we’re gonna keep it that way,” Virgil hissed. The march took another corner, and Miami City Hall stood in front of them. The city hall was stationed on a circular piece of land overlooking the ocean, with long docks lining behind it. A circular driveway wrapped up to the front steps, leaving a circle of nature in the center. The U.S flag flew over the city, its shadow falling onto the stark white building. Virgil stomped forward, leaving Dr. D in the dust. He joined back up with his friends at the front as the march turned up the volume. Officers stood on the grass, watching over the crowd as they swarmed over the driveway, squirming for a little bit of room. The reporters watching from the sidelines grew to their biggest size yet, all trying to get good shots of the crowd. Drones flew above to get aerial views. Emile, Thomas, Patton, and Logan turned around and held the banner over their heads, marking the end of the long walk.

As Logan and Thomas folded up the banner, Emile handed Virgil the megaphone.

“Ready as you’ll ever be?” Emile asked in that special tone that confirmed he made a cartoon reference Virgil didn’t get.

“Well,” Virgil huffed, eyes darting between the front steps of City Hall and the giant crowd. “Surprisingly enough, I’m feeling anxious about it. Talking in front of hundreds of people does that to folks.”

“Take a minute to calm yourself,” Emile suggested. “I’m sure the crowd can wait.” Virgil took deep breaths, juggling the megaphone between his hands. Without his hoodie to hide them, he put his empty hand in his back pocket. There was something else in there. He thought his pocket was empty. Virgil pulled out a carefully folded piece of paper. He unfolded it.

Virgil,

Honesty has never been my strongest suit. I found my words are more truthful when they’re written down. I wish you luck on your rally. I truly hope all goes well. I agree, the cuts to statewide nursing education are idiotic.

I think Remus misses you. It’s tough to tell, but when you’ve been around him long enough, you can notice when he’s feeling down. He hasn’t fully accepted that leaving was your decision. I have. We all have to live with it.

To whatever comes next,

Dr. Janus Dee.

Virgil looked through the crowd for Dr. D’s bowler hat. He couldn’t see the mysterious doctor anywhere. His thumb brushed over D’s name. Virgil crumpled the note and shoved it into his pocket. He made sure the megaphone was on and took to the steps of City Hall.

————————

@watchoutforthefanfics @moonlight22oa @mediocrity-at-best

[k-writer1998]

Rebel Hours (5/18)

Kwon Jieun always fit her parents’ image of the “perfect” daughter… at least to their knowledge. Away from prying eyes she was like any other girl living life to the fullest doing what she wants. When a little someone named Bang Chan comes into her life priorities are changed, mistakes are made, and her life finally becomes her own.

Fluff

w.c: 2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I haven’t answered him much but I’m still technically texting him… you probably guessed I planned on ghosting him.”

“And why are you ghosting him when you like him? Anyone with eyes can see you two like each other.”

"You know why…”

“Hun how will you ever fall in love if you’re always so scared of your parents not approving?”

“Whether they approve or not doesn’t matter. I just don’t want to get into a relationship that is doomed from the start. I tried it once with Minhyuk and that hurt for months, but Chan would be worse. I am so whipped for this boy that any choice is going to destroy me.”

      I buried my face in my hands with a sigh. I hated admitting it because of how real it made everything sound, like I couldn’t hide from it anymore. Within the month we spent together I have completely fallen for that boy, hard, and it’s different from Minhyuk. Maybe because I’m older now or maybe I didn’t love Minhyuk as much as I thought but this heartbreak hurts far more than it did back in high school. 

"Then you need to stop running from it and face the problem. Don’t miss out on life just because your parents might stir trouble. Why don’t you confront your parents? You know that’s a conversation we’ve had before."

      That’s what it was. With Chan I want things to work out even if that means I have to stand up to my parents. I wanted to make them understand and fight for this feeling. There was also a fire in my heart that wasn’t there before and I tried to ignore it but maybe I needed to listen to it. That’s why running away this past week, like I did in high school, wasn’t working. 

“I think it’s finally time I do. I wish I wanted to do it for myself you know? It's just kinda irritating that it took me wanting a boy for me to finally take initiative.”

“The boy isn’t the reason you’re doing this, just a catalyst. Jieun you have come up with a hundred excuses as to why you couldn’t stand up to your parents, that's why everything was done in secret so far. It's time for you to be you and for your parents to stop controlling you, you have a whole second wardrobe for heaven’s sake,” she threw her hands wildly at the end to ease the growing heaviness in the air.

“You’re right. What would I ever do without you?” I chuckled softly.

“Apparently nothing,” she laughed before asking, “So what’s your game plan and what are you gonna do with Chan? I would like for you to still get your guy at the end of the day.”

“I don’t know when to tell my parents but before that I do want to clear up things with Minhyuk. I always regretted not telling him why we broke up.”

“Then do it if that’s what you need to do to be able to face your parents.”

       She had moved from the desk to sitting next to me on my bed, god bless that she was no longer mad at me. We sat and talked about everything that we missed like my dates with Chan, or that fact that she got herself a British boyfriend which I teased her relentlessly for for a bit before I remembered something.

“Are you and Seungmin coming to Changbin’s party? I received an invite and well you know how my parents are about attending their friends’ kids events.”

“I can’t, my mom is having me go with her out to Busan to visit my aunt who just had a baby. I need to go cause my mom doesn’t like her cousin that much.”

      Once Seunghee went home, I pulled out my phone and opened the messenger, I hesitated over Chan’s chats for a moment before I snapped myself out of it and opened my group chat with Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Jeongin. I quickly sent a text asking who wanted to come with me before I realized something. There was a strong chance that Chan would be there… okay now I NEED one of them would come through or I’m going to freak myself out. Jeongin had to play it safe since he almost got caught the last time he went out. Seungmin luckily said he would go and Hyunjin happily agreed to the notion of free food. Knowing two of the three could make it, I finally turned out the lights and tried to sleep. 

      The next day wasn’t as hectic as the previous ones and in the late afternoon I was excused from the rest of my parents’ plans so I could attend Changbin’s party. I got dressed in a black cold-shoulder long sleeve top with a maroon skater skirt that went down to my knees. Not my ideal outfit but at least I felt a little more like myself with this top, thank god for loopholes with mother. I touched up my make-up and slipped on a pair of black wedges before I went to my car. As I walked to the entrance of the venue, I checked my phone to see if Seungmin and Hyunjin arrived but they didn't. Weaving through the crowd and sticking to the sidelines, I scanned the crowd to find Changbin because I’ll need to greet the birthday boy at some point tonight. I continued to watch the door anxiously waiting for my friends to come until I felt a tap on my shoulder causing me to jump slightly. I turned and visibly relaxed at their faces.

“How did I not catch you guys coming in?”

“You were probably too busy being paranoid over lover boy,” Hyunjin teased.

“Oh shut up, but thank you for coming to do whatever it is you’re doing because supporting me is not one of them,” I cut back.

      We bantered a bit more before Seungmin cut us off. I rolled my eyes as I watched Hyunjin pick up a large amount of food at the refreshment table and cleanly ate it as if it was nothing. Hyunjin laughed at my birdfeed amount of food, the result of all those etiquette classes mother had me take, and I punched him in his arm before he proceeded to get more food. I discarded my plate and moved to grab a drink when I heard two people grunting. As my hand touched a glass the argument had escalated apparently and in a heartbeat I recognized that voice. God Hyunjin, not here. I quickly rushed over to the comotion to see Hyunjin in the face of a vaguely familiar person who had a slight stain on his blue dress shirt. Hyunjin had a matching stain of some sauce on his shirt as well.

“I said I was sorry why are you losing it over something small? Thanks to you I’m stuck walking around with a stain too, you aren’t the only one so get over it,” Hyunjin quipped.

“Well if you were watching where you were going in the first place then neither of us would have this problem,” the voice of J.one, or “Jisung” as Chan had told me some time ago, growled back.

“Why are you literally picking a fight over nothing bro?”

      Seungmin was already trying to pull Hyunjin back but both boys had each other by the collar. Jisung was no better as Changbin and Chan tried to quell his anger. I adjusted my face to fit my good girl facade with a pleasant smile and calm demeanor even when I was highly irritated with the situation. Of all the people Hyunjin had to fight he had to fight a 3racha member which forced me to confront the other two as well. I placed a hand on Hyunjin’s chest and another on Jisung’s hand that held Hyunjin’s shirt.

“Hwang Hyunjin, let him go,” I coaxed.

“But he-”

      I shot him a glare and repeated the sweet words with more venom this time. He dropped his hold but Jisung still had Hyunjin’s shirt balled in his fist. As Seungmin restrained Hyunjin to ensure he wouldn’t continue this squabble, I turned to Changbin.

“I apologize for my friend but I would appreciate it if your friend released him. It seems as though he had already apologized and by the looks of it he isn't blameless either but because it was due to my friend’s carelessness I apologize again in his place.”

      Hyunjin tried to protest but at the slight turn of my head and the slightest drop of my smile, Hyunjin stopped as my smile went back into place. Jisung was about to retort back but Changbin pulled the boy closer to him, hissing something into his ear, before he reluctantly let go with a grumble. Seungmin and Hyunjin quickly wished Changbin a happy birthday before the former dragged the latter away, leaving me to do damage control. I kept my gaze on Changbin and Jisung, not wanting to look at how good Chan was looking in his loose white button up and black slacks that- no Jieun. Damage control, focus.

“I’m sorry again for causing a disturbance like this at your birthday Changbin, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it if anything I want to apologize for my friend, he’s a bit hot tempered and just as much to blame, isn’t that right Jisung?”

Changbin nudged Jisung as he gave the boy a fierce glare. Jisung gave me a quick look over and mumbled his reply.

“... yeah whatever.”

“Well now that that’s settled I wish you a happy birthday and I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find my friends.”

      I gave a slight nod of my head to excuse myself which Changbin returned before I turned to walk away. The whole time this exchange happened I felt Chan’s gaze burning the side of my head. I nervously touched my hair, feeling the familiar silky feeling of the wig. I tried my best to keep my face out of his line of view, did he notice? Before I completely faded into the crowd I listened in as the boys spoke to one another, using the crowd to hide myself and focused on the conversation amongst the noise.

“Dude I get you’re peeved but just let this one go. If my dad finds out I upset his friend’s kid, especially a sheltered one like her, he’ll kill me,” Changbin hissed.

       Okay rude. But in a way he isn’t wrong. I only ever hang out with the Seung-siblings and whenever I interact with anyone else around my age I put on the whole good southern girl act like in those American movies. I don’t interact with others, a bigger circle means it's harder to keep secrets anyways.

“Who? That girl?”

“Who is she anyways? She kinda feels familiar…” Chan mused.

       Shit does he recognize me? No way, I practically used my hair as a shield from him since he was to my side. My wig is securely on my head and my tattoo is covered. Naturally my voice goes higher when I talk with people I’m not close to, he wouldn't have recognized it… would he?

“There’s no way you would’ve met her hyung. That’s Kwon Jieun, she’s the daughter of that congressman who's all about the modest Korean household or whatever. I doubt she would be caught dead anywhere we hang out and she doesn’t attend the same university.”

“... Yeah, you’re probably right.”

       For once I was thankful for my stupid reputation. If I get exposed to Chan I want it to be from my own mouth. He deserves that much at least. I had heard enough and made my way back to Hyunjin and Seungmin. Hyunjin apologized and I let him off because in all honesty the whole reason I acted that way was, like Changbin, I didn’t want to get an earful from my parents. We stayed until they sang happy birthday before we snuck out and grabbed some actually filling food. Thank god I told my mom let me stay at the apartment because “it wasn’t safe to go around so late at night” so we just spent the rest of the night chilling.

[mastrechef]

Here’s the intro for the reincarnation au I meant to write yesterday. I came back to this because it woke me up at 4am yesterday and I couldn’t get back to sleep until I’d typed up a rough sketch on my phone. My brain always chooses the most unreasonable times to be helpful.

Reincarnation happens all the time, although almost no one realizes it. Reincarnated souls may get an impression here or there, a niggling feeling they can’t explain. Nothing concrete enough to make the connection.

The point of reincarnation isn’t to remember, anyway. It is simply a natural occurrence. Strong souls are born anew, given another chance at life, another chance to have hopes and dreams, to experience love and loss.

One of the strange quirks of the reincarnation cycle comes into play when magic is involved. Magic is bound to bloodlines, but once a person is born into magic, it weaves itself into their soul. Any incarnation after that life, the magic will still be there, and with it the possibility of remembrance. It’s not a guarantee, but magic strengthens the bonds between past and present, and sometimes things slip through.

Nyx learns all of this from Ramuh when he is eleven years old, just shy of twelve, and he starts truly remembering.

He’d been having strange dreams for a while, of places and people that felt achingly familiar, yet he couldn’t put his finger on when or where he might have seen them. Some days he’d wake suffused with warmth, the kind he felt when he spent time with his mother learning to cook, or like when Selena was born and he held his baby sister in his arms the first time. Other days he woke in a cold sweat feeling hollowed out and drained, every good feeling and happy memory distant and out of reach.

Those days Nyx clung to his mother and Selena and Libertus until the cold and emptiness relinquished their hold on him.

Then one day, something in him cracks.

He remembers.

Like water bursting forth from the dam that kept it at bay, his head is filled with memories, old memories, from a lifetime ago. All the things from his dreams but with the gaps filled in, good and bad, and he knows. He knows those bright eyes and warm smiles belonged to his father, who laughed so joyously and loved so freely, who healed the sick and left him in awe every time, who taught him to play chess, who treated his son like he was his entire world. His father, his king, who was betrayed by the ones he trusted most for helping his people in the way he knew best. Who was then declared a monster and murdered by those same betrayers.

The betrayers which included Nyx’s uncle. The same uncle who had spoiled him rotten and affectionately called him Little Knight. The same uncle who had helped him organize a surprise party for his father’s birthday every year, who taught him to wield a sword alongside his father, who comforted him as he cried when his nana passed.

The same uncle who killed him.

Lightning streaked across the heavens and the oceans surrounding Galahd seethed in sync with his grief and agony as Nyx Antinous Ulric, who was once Nyx Estelle Lucis Caelum, remembered.

Additional tidbits under the cut

His mother must have had a gut feeling or perhaps Ramuh whispered to her, nudging her in the right direction. When Nyx had spoken to her of his dreams, she hadn’t understood them any more than him. But how else would he end up with a name like Nyx Antinous?

Ramuh’s explanation of the reincarnation cycle leaves a few questions unanswered. If people born to magic keep it upon being reborn, why are the only magic lines the Lucis Caelums and the Fleurets? (It isn’t until he learns of the Ring of the Lucii that he begins to understand. By binding the souls of the Lucian kings, not only was Bahamut influencing the entire royal line, but he was also skewing the natural order, preventing any of them from reincarnating. More than a hundred souls that could make a difference, that could potentially put a wrench in the Astral’s plans.)

When Galahd figures out what’s happened, they rally around Nyx because they remember. They know of the rightful King’s betrayal, of the murder of his only son and heir. They loathe the line of Somnus Lucis Caelum, the Usurper, the Kinslayer, with the fury of a thousand burning suns. Even more so they loathe Bahamut, the Draconian, the meddlesome King of Astrals, for his manipulations and his plots, for the curse forced upon the King. And they will not forgive. They will not forget.

Additional Notes:

-Today’s writing is influenced by Breaking Benjamin. The song Torn in Two (lyrics below) seemed fitting for Nyx and I could see Feed the Wolf as a theme for Ardyn.

Is this the way it's gotta be?

Ignite the fire inside of me

Embrace the life of tragedy

A tide of war and broken dreams

I am torn in two

Hold on, hold on

We're barely alive

I am faded through

Hold on, hold on

The fallen arise

I will fight this war for you

And let the dawn of love survive

Broken, I crawl back to life

-Slightly breaking the tradition of Latin/Greek naming conventions since Estelle is technically French, but it comes from Latin originally (also makes Nyx’s name very feminine but whatever) and I was going for a “star of the night” sort of vibe and liked the sound of it.

-As in the original post, Antinous refers to the Greek Antinous who was deified after his death; remembered as a hero or a god or both; as a god was a benevolent healer and conqueror of death.

-Don’t have a concrete age for when Nyx died, though leaning towards younger. I feel like magic would manifest pretty young but more specialized skills like Ardyn’s healing would come later. So maybe Nyx was young enough that they wouldn’t know if he’d inherited it, and Somnus killed him both because of him supporting his father and to preemptively stop him from following in his father’s footsteps. Don’t know yet if I’ll have Nyx actually inherit the healing ability.

-The ‘his king’ bit worked its way in on its own, so I’m going to go with the idea that Ardyn was crowned king, but was only on the throne a short time before Somnus killed him.

-Ramuh probably tells Nyx about what happened to Ardyn and so Nyx makes it his mission to find him again. No idea yet when or where or how that reunion will take place.

[luminous-grace]

“Slow night?”

Castiel jerks his head up from where it’d been resting on his arms. He blinks a few times, his gaze landing on a blurry shape shifting its weight awkwardly in front of him. Grumbling, Castiel fumbles for his glasses. “You could say that.” 

Distractedly, he waves his hand at the overhead sign. “All the prices are right here. One dollar for a kiss, fifty cents for a kiss on the cheek, etc. If you want to buy more than two at once we ask that you first go to the back of line to give others a turn.” 

The man laughs. “Oh no, sorry. I mean, not that I’m not interested but I just came over here to make sure you were sleeping and not, like, actually dead.”

Castiel frowns, finally locating his glasses. He slips them on and once he does  the most attractive men he’s ever seen blinks into focus. 

Castiel stares. The man seems to be around his own age, maybe a few years younger. He’s sporting a dark grey henley and a leather jacket that clings to him perfectly, as if its entire purpose is to wreak havoc on Castiel’s higher brain function. In the end, it’s the bright green eyes and lopsided grin that have Castiel doing the double take. He’s so focused on his examination that he completely misses the treat being offered to him until it’s practically shoved under his nose.

“Here, uh, I figured you could use this. On the house.”

Castiel blinks, finally looking away, and his gaze falls to a cupcake covered in slightly too much rainbow frosting and dozen little white sprinkles. His stomach growls, and the man grins.

“See, I knew they were keeping you trapped here.”

Cas huffs a laugh, but takes the offered treat.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The man scratches at the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “To be honest, talking to you seemed like a good excuse to take a breather from my own crap.” 

He gestures behind him to another booth about twenty feet or so away. Squinting, Castiel catches sight of an assortment of baked goods and a little cardboard cutout of a pie. Farther back, the giant banner Castiel had spent entirely too much time on hangs from the ceiling, the words "FUNdraising Carnival Night” glaring at him in large block letters.

“Also,” Castiel’s gaze snaps back as the man continues speaking, “you got a little, uh-” he gestures at his face and Castiel raises a hand in confusion only to brush away a couple of those tiny star confetti’s scattered across his booth.

Castiel frowns at it tiredly. “Ugh. Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be finding fifty more of those later.”

“Long day?”

Castiel sighs, removing his glasses for a moment to rub at his eyes. “Long night, I suppose. All that paper grading finally caught up to me.” 

“Oh shit, do you teach here?” The man sounds annoyed on his behalf. “And they’re making you work the booth, too? That sucks, dude.”

Castiel shakes his head. “I teach at the university next door. My daughter, Claire, attends here and I’m volunteering for the evening. Are you a parent?” Castiel adds as an afterthought. Mostly to be polite, but also because he doesn’t think he’s seen him around before at any of the school functions before. 

The man shakes his head. “Nah, my brother’s kid is a student here. I’m just helpin’ out the cause.” He leans over to nudge at a shoebox lying at his feet. Its contents jangle. “Band.”

Castiel gestures at the half-full jar in front of him. “Soccer team.”

The man grins, sticking out his hand.

“Dean.”

“Castiel.”

The sit in companionable silence for a few minutes. The hallway they’ve been assigned to is deserted except for the two of them, and if it weren’t for the muffled sounds of music floating from the central hall, Castiel might think that everyone else had gone home early. 

“So a kissing booth, huh?” Dean’s voice breaks the quiet. “Gotta be honest, I didn’t know they still did those. Did you draw the short straw or something?”

Castiel rolls his eyes, but there’s no heat to it. “My brother’s idea, unfortunately. He said that with my “‘irresistible charm’” I should have customers lining up. Why he’s even thought about that, I don’t think I want to know, but my daughter jumped at the chance chance of embarrassing me, so.” 

Dean snorts. “Middle schooler?”

“Middle schooler.”

Nodding sagely, Dean takes a sip of his drink. “So how’s business been? Any of these parents out here hot for teacher?” He waggles his eyebrows, and Castiel feels his mouth twitch. 

“Well, considering my only options are total strangers or the parents of my daughter’s friends, I’d say I’m doing about as well as could be expected.”

Dean winces. “Yeah that sucks, dude.”

Castiel picks at the wrapper of his cupcake. “It’s not so bad. Mr. Turner’s already been though a couple times. Single dad, sweet man.” Castiel gives up on the wrapper, opts instead to use his finger to take a long swipe of frosting off the top before popping it in his mouth. “A very generous tipper.”

Dean chokes. “Yeah?”

Castiel snickers, abandoning the cupcake to wipe his hands on his thighs. “Yeah, if you consider fifty cents for a peck on the cheek generous.” 

"Huh.” Dean says. They talk for a while, after that.  They discover that Castiel’s daughter is only a year ahead of Sam’s, but that little Mary is so smart they’ll probably be sharing classes by next year. She’s learning to play the french horn, much to Sam’s dismay and Dean’s glee, which Claire’s soccer team is all set to win their tournament the upcoming weekend provided they can get enough money to get there.

Every so often, Dean’s gaze will drop to Castiel’s lips before he seems to catch himself, jerking his eyes back up and going slightly pink at the ears. Castiel isn’t shy about letting Dean know he’s been found out, and each time it happens the other man seems to grow more and more flustered. 

Eventually, Dean gestures somewhat desperately at the sign above Castiel’s head. “Pretty cheap going rate. What’ve you made so far?”

Castel tilts his head, eyeing his jar critically. “I’d say... around thirty dollars or so? So all in all, not terrible.”

Dean snorts, mutters what sounds like “buncha tightwads” under his breath before raising his voice again. “So how’s this whole thing work, anyway? I give you cash and however much I give decides what I get?”

Castiel shrugs. “Essentially, yes. It’s all strictly PG of course, and I reserve the right to veto.” He drops his voice, so Dean has to lean in even closer to hear. “Somehow, I doubt that’ll be an issue.”

Dean grins at him, and there’s something new in it now that sends a rush of heat through Castiel. "So what you’re saying is, I get to lay one on the hottest guy here and donate to a worthy cause at the same time?”

Mouth twitching, Castiel lets his eyes drop to Dean’s lips momentarily before flicking back up. 

“Your very selfless act of charity is appreciated.”

Dean inhales sharply, and they’re close enough that Castiel can see it when he bites his lip, eyes fixated on Castiel’s mouth. He starts to lean in, and Castiel lets his eyes flutter closed-

“Shit.” Castiel opens his eyes in time to see Dean pull back abruptly.

“What?”

Dean starts reaching for his pockets, hands patting himself frantically. “I, uh, think I left my wallet in the car.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, because what the fuck. “Are we really keeping up that pretense now?”

Dean pauses, mouth opening and closing a few times “Okay, you got me there. But-” he continues, “I do actually want to support your shit, man. Just give me like, two minutes.”

Castiel sighs, unable to bring himself to be properly annoyed because damnit, who even is this guy? “If you insist,” he says instead. “I’d hurry though. My booth closes in-” he makes a show of checking his watch “-about five minutes.”

“Shit.” Dean jumps up quickly, causing the chair he was in to topple over. He glares at Castiel as if daring him to laugh before jabbing a finger his direction. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Dean hurries out of sight, and Castiel takes a moment to shake his head at himself. He sets about carefully dismantling his stand, starting with the decorations and leaving the booth itself for last. He’s just sat back down for a moment to check his phone when the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps makes him look up.

Dean skids to a halt in front of him, doubling over to plant his hands on his knees, panting.

Castiel opens his mouth to speak but Dean holds up a finger. He wheezes a couple more times before straightening up and slapping a crumpled wad of cash down onto the table. 

Castiel blinks at money and then back up at Dean. “Did- did you run here?”

Dean glares at Castiel incredulously. “Dude you’re like, twenty different levels of hot. Of course I ran.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow, and Dean flushes. It’s sort of adorable.

“Dean, there’s like $40 here.”

“Okay, in my defense-”

“You gave me a cupcake. I think technically I owe you money.”

“Listen-”

But Castiel doesn’t listen, choosing instead to tug Dean downward to kiss him. It’s a little awkward and he has to lean up across the booth to reach a still standing Dean, but the surprised noise the other man makes against his mouth as they meet is worth it.

It’s just a quick press of the lips, there and back in a moment but it sets Castiel’s heart racing. Reluctantly, he breaks away first- mostly deserted or not, this is still a public place- but the second Castiel pulls back Dean’s chokes out a “nuh-uh”, fumbles another dollar down, and reels him back in. 

The second kiss is firmer, more sure. Dean slides a hand up the the side of Castiel’s face to cradle his jaw, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck and Castiel hums in appreciation. Their lips slide across each other for a moment, parting before coming together again and again, each time a little more purposeful. Feeling daring, Cas tilts his head, lets his tongue drag ever so slightly across Dean’s bottom lip. He’s rewarded with a gasp, and feels Dean’s fingers tighten against the side of his face. 

Dean pulls back slightly, knocking their foreheads together as his other hand comes up to cup Castiel’s face. 

“Shit. Can I buy you a drink, Cas?”

“What about your booth?”

Dean nips at the corner of his mouth. “Brother’ll take care of it."

Castiel smirks, turning his head to press an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of Dean’s palm just to watch the way his eyes flash. “I don’t know,” he says slowly, cutting his eyes purposefully to the money on the tabletop. “Are you sure you can afford it at this point?”

Dean lets out a low laugh. It sends a thrill of heat through Castiel, who has to dart in again to see how that laugh tastes. This time the kiss is a little wetter, a little dirtier. Castiel isn’t sure who opens for who first, but he does know that Dean tastes like sugary sweet rainbow frosting and Castiel can’t get enough of it. Dean’s hand slides to rest against his hip, warm and heavy, and Castiel shivers as his thumb traces circles there. Castiel fists his hand in Dean’s collar, bites at his lip in payback and the other man groans, the sound quickly swallowed up between them. 

Dean pulls back first this time, dropping his head to Castiel’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he exhales on a shaky laugh. Castiel can’t help but agree. They stand there for a moment, breathing heavily, and it’s only the threat of potential detection that keeps Castiel from shoving Dean back into the dark corner of the hallway for round three. 

Dean must have a similar thought, because all too soon he’s taking a step backwards. Carefully, he reaches forward to smooth out Castiel’s tie before letting his hands drop to his shoulders. He nods to himself. “Drinks first, then...” Dean lets the sentence trail off, and Castiel smirks at him, sneaking a hand down his side to tug at a belt loop. 

“Dessert?”

Dean groans. “God, fuck you. Okay, let’s go or we’re never gonna make it past my car and I really want to buy you a drink.”

Castiel grins, taking pity on him. He steps back before reaching down to pick up his Dean’s shoebox and his own jar of money. 

He shakes the jar lightly, turning to Dean with a grin. “It’s my treat.”

[multiphandomunnies]

Blackpink reacts: S/O joining the military (Angsty Ending)

Requested:  Can you make a blackpink reaction where they got a news where their s/o died because of the military?

Admin: Heather

A/N: It’s a second ending to Blackpink’s S/O in military. I wasn’t sure if you meant for it to be a separate story or another part, but I put it in my small universe. So Blackpink is in love with Y/N, but they are not together anymore. If you want a version with Blackpink and Y/N being together, all you have to do is ask and I’ll happily write another one! Hope you all enjoy this piece of angst. (I’m kinda proud about it)

Jisoo

Three months after the breakup Jisoo was doing fine. She was planning to quit her current job and start working in a nearby library. Her friends were very supportive and tried to set her up on a couple dates, but she always politely declined. Right now, she wanted to focus on her life and find happiness on her own. That was the official version for everyone. Of course Jisoo wanted to build a life, but a couple months wasn’t enough for her to forget about you. She didn’t blame you for anything and was happy that you two ended things like grown-ups. Sometimes the memories would come back, like when she was drinking your favourite coffee or walked around the park near your apartment, but it was always a nice and nostalgic moment. Right now Jisoo was organising her books. She always had an obsession to keep them sorted by authors in alphabetical order. You used to be marveled by her dedication and always said that she should make a living out of it. Now was finally the time for her to follow your advice. A loud ringtone interrupted her moment of peace and she reluctantly picked it up, a little surprised by the name on the screen. “Byul?” It has been a while since she talked to her friend as she was always busy. “Do you know Y/N Y/L/N?” Moonbyul asked immediately. Jisoo blinked in confusion. “Yeah, why are you asking me that?” They weren’t close enough for Moonbyul to know about your relationship. “We were in the same team in military.” she explained and cleared her throat. “Do you know her well? It’s important.” Jisoo didn’t know how to answer that. Your relationship status was complicated. “We were... we are in love.” Moonbyul gasped a little and fell into silence. “I should have known. We found a picture of you under her pillow.” She admit quietly. Something was definitely wrong. “Byul, is everything alright with Y/N?” Moonbyul didn’t respond at first, but after a while she started talking. “Our base got ambushed yesterday. I wasn’t there, but I heard that it was a massacre.” Jisoo’s heart was beating fast and she almost didn’t hear her friend’s words. “She died, Jisoo. They all did.” The phone was dropped on the floor and Jisoo slid on the wall right next to it. She was staring into space frozen and didn’t pay attention to Moonbyul’s concerned voice. You were gone. You will never come back and live your life. You will never hold her in your arms again. You will never smile at any joke. She was okay with you not coming back to her, but not coming back at all? She will never be okay with that.

Jennie

Working with people was a therapeutic experience. Jennie had no time to focus on your failed relationship. Well, maybe the relationship itself was not a total disaster (it wasn’t at all), but your last moments together were the worst minutes of her life. She wouldn’t her you see her break down, but right after you left she burst into tears on the floor. It hurt as hell to even think about losing you and you were standing in front of her, announcing that you might not be back. Jennie felt angry, betrayed and confused. She knew it wasn’t your fault, but she couldn’t forgive you for disappearing like that. It meant changes in her life too and it didn’t seem fair that she had to abruptly rearrange her daily routine and everything. Finding a way to cope was a priority. When Nayeon saw how devasted she was, she found her a job in a coffee shop she was working in. Jennie didn’t want to tell her about the relationship and Nayeon didn’t pressure, but she knew her friend needed help. And there she was, making coffee with a group of awesome girls and finally felt like she could get through life. Even though her heart stung a little when she saw her coworkers Irene and Wendy exchanging shy looks, she believed that it was only temporary. She will move on and maybe even find a girlfriend someday. “Jen, can you take this order to the customer?” Nayeon called from another room. Jennie put down the cup she was washing and moved towards the counter. She scanned the room and noticed that only one customer didn’t anything on his table, so she moved towards him with a smile. He thanked her and moved his hand with a groan. “Excuse me, do you need anything?” Jennie asked politely. “It’s nothing. An old wound from the front.” “Oh, you’re a soldier?” She asked curiously. He seemed very young. “Yeah, got shot two weeks ago. I got better, but my friend Y/N didn’t make it.” His words made Jennie’s blood run cold. “Y/N? She didn’t make it?” The man nodded sadly. “It was a sudden attack, she jumped in front of me and pushed me away. I only got a minor wound, but she had no chance.” “That’s brave.” Jennie whispered and the man smiled a little. “Y/N Y/L/N was definitely brave. You know she dumped her girlfriend before the service? She said she’d rather have that girl hate her than grief if she died.” He stopped and frowned. “It’s sad that it really happened.” Jennie couldn’t say a word and the soldier seemed to notice something was off. “Are you alright? Did you know her by any chance?” he asked and Jennie wiped her face from any emotion. “No.” she whispered, pushing the tears away. “Never heard of her.”

Rosé

Sitting and reading in a café became one of Rosé’s favourite things to do. Maybe because of the great beverages, quiet venue and great service. Or maybe because it used to be your favourite spot to hang out in the afternoons. It felt right to sit there by your favourite table and slowly go through chapter after chapter. Rosé could swear she felt your presence when she spent time here. Almost as if you were sitting next to her and reading the same lines. Maybe it was just the way your minds and souls were connected even if the bodies were so far apart. That’s why she kept telling people that she was taken and couldn’t go on a date with them. Rosé came here almost every day to read and patiently wait for any news from you. One day she got to the café soaking wet and freezing. Rain was pouring heavily and she missed the bus. “I guess you didn’t have a great day?” inquired Sana, her favourite barista and the sweetest person alive. “Could be better.” Rosé admitted and smiled a little as she saw Sana already preparing her favourite tea. “You’re an angel, do you know that?” she said seriously and Sana giggled a little. “That’s sweet, but you still have to pay.” she answered and winked at Rosé. “Sit down and get warm, I will bring you your tea when it’s ready.” She didn’t have to tell her twice, Rosé took her usual spot and started looking for the book in her bag. In the meantime Sana brought her drink and turned up the TV to hear the news. “Two soldiers were killed in the explosion that occurred in the morning. Kang Daniel and Y/N Y/L/N unfortunately didn’t make it.” Rosé choked on her drink and glued her eyes to the screen. You couldn’t be gone. She was sure you two could reunite. It was meant to happen. You were meant to happen. Tears were streaming down her face as she struggled to breathe. How could she when all air just got sucked out from her lungs. What even was the point of waiting? What was she waiting for? That was exactly what you were warning her about. That you could never come back. The tea didn’t taste warm anymore. It felt like acid on her tongue, but she forced herself to swallow it. Every sip, bite or breath would be painful from now on. “Chaeyoung?” she heard Sana’s voice and suddenly she was sobbing into her apron. The girl was holding her, but didn’t say anything. It’s not like Rosé would hear her. She couldn’t even hear her heartbeat. Maybe because of the stress. Or maybe because her heart just died.

Lisa

The music stopped and Lisa struck a final pose. She was practicing a new routine and it was far from perfect. Joining a dance group was the best decision she could make, but it required a lot of work. They still had two months till the performance, but Lisa didn’t even think about stopping before she was satisfied with the results. She promised herself that she would never leave any matter unfinished. Last time she did that was when you parted ways and it still bothered her to this day. Lisa thought that not saying goodbye would be better for both of you. At first she was assured it was a good decision as she didn’t feel any pain from the official break up. After a couple weeks the emptiness came and started swallowing her daily life. No amount of work, fun and hanging out with friends could fix that. Even the busiest day ended with her coming back to the empty apartment and trying to ignore the silence hanging in the air. Lisa didn’t realise earlier that no goodbyes meant no last memory to hold on to. Lack of closure made everything worse as it felt as if you could just walk through her door and join her on the couch. But you didn’t and she had no idea if you ever would. Your relationship was technically over, but she still felt uneasy when other people tried to flirt with her. The unsolved issue between you two made her dangling and chasing any stability. Only thing that kept her grounded was her dancing, but now her muscles were burning which meant it was time to take a break. Lisa looked at her phone and started answering the texts from her friends. A couple party invitations, reminders about schedule and casual messages. But one notification made her curious. It was from the news website she subscribed a long time ago. The post was about a car accident near some airport. Apparently a group of soldiers died in the crash and a few others were injured. Lisa winced at the graphic description, but then she scrolled the photos of the victims and froze. There was the face she knew too well. Your face with your name below. She frantically scrolled back to see if maybe you were just injured, but it was very clear that you died in that accident. Lisa’s legs were already tired from practicing and now she collapsed completely, but didn’t really care. She didn’t even try to stop the tears from streaming. Your face staring at her from the screen was like a painful reminder that she won’t be able to forget. You two will always be unfinished business.

[gracie--olive]

me too

I met Ryan at work. I loved all the people I worked with, we were all around the same age and got on so well. We used to call ourselves a family. A group of us used to go out for drinks after work a lot - Ryan included. We grew closer during those evenings. We bonded over things we had in common - music, films and a similar sense of humour. We exchanged phone numbers and what started off friendly getting to know each other became flirty and personal. Ryan and I would text almost constantly, even when we were both working, from one end of the room to the other.

I had a boyfriend at this time, Pete. We'd been together a little over a year, but he had slept with his ex 8 months in. We broke up at the time for a couple of weeks, but I told Pete I forgave him and we got back together. I missed him despite what he had done, but in hindsight, I hadn't fully got over it.

Over text, Ryan and I would talk about his unhappiness with his girlfriend - he said she was controlling and emotional. He felt trapped, they had a young son together. In turn I told him about my most recent relationship drama. I felt like I had someone I could talk to freely. My closest friends had gone to university, I was humiliated and hurt over what had happened with Pete. I could've have called and told them, but I couldn't bring myself to. It was easy to talk to Ryan, perhaps because he was a new person in my life. I didn't have to live up to anything.

A month or so passed like this. Nothing happened between Ryan and I physically, but that's not to say what I was doing was right. I was hiding my messages from Pete, staying out later and later with my friends from work, lying about who I was with and where I was going, and sharing secret looks with Ryan when we thought no one else was looking. My relationship with Pete suffered. I justified what I was doing by telling myself that I wasn't doing anything wrong, that it was harmless, nothing compared to what he had done. He tried so hard to earn my trust back, passing up nights out with his friends to appease me. I continued to punish him for his mistake, all the while continuing my emotional affair with Ryan. I broke up with Pete again. This time he was devastated, he thought our relationship was strengthening and we were working on regaining trust. I was a coward, I didn't tell him there was someone else. I told him it was his infidelity that I couldn't move past. Ryan had told me he'd left his girlfriend a couple of weeks previously, and was staying with family. He was seeing his son sporadically, Katie was being difficult. I felt indifferent towards her. He'd told me they had problems before, I wasn't the reason they broke up. I reassured myself with this when I felt guilty.

Ryan and I started meeting alone after work. We shared a few kisses, but nothing more. We thought we were being discreet, but our colleagues had started to notice. I thought as we were both single it wouldn't be a problem, but Ryan wanted to keep it quiet. He told me he was going for a promotion and didn't want our relationship to jeopardise it. I understood this, and was more than happy to keep it between us. Pete was still trying to contact me, convinced I was seeing someone else. I didn't want to upset him, and told him it wasn't true. Ryan got his promotion, and switched to a new office. We still spoke a lot, and he came and picked me up from my house a few times so we could spend time together. On one occasion he brought his son with him, and we went for dinner. I was a little taken aback, but ultimately ok with it. It made me feel mature, and like our relationship had potential to develop into something real.

My office worked closely with others in the area, and we had a big night out together planned. Ryan suggested getting a hotel for the night. We'd only been seeing each other a couple of weeks, but I'd known him much longer and I felt comfortable with it. More than that, I felt excited. He booked and paid for the room, and said I could use it to get ready after work, and then we could go back there together at the end of the night. I was still in contact with Pete. Before we broke up we'd booked a holiday together, and he was using it as an excuse to talk. I still hadn't told him what was going on. I technically wasn't doing anything wrong anymore - we weren't together - but I didn't want to hurt him. Ryan knew all this, and was supportive. He said maybe we could go on holiday together instead.

On the night, I had so much fun with everyone, dancing and drinking and laughing. I didn't talk to Ryan much. I thought as he had his promotion and we were spending the night together he would've spent more time with me, but I was having fun, and shrugged it off. He mostly stood at a table talking to people and watching me. I remember thinking, maybe it's not his scene, perhaps prefers pubs to bars and clubs. I told a friend, Adam, about the hotel, and he told me to be careful. I remember saying that I was fine, I liked Ryan.

The next I remember after that was being walked through a tunnel, with Ryan and Adam holding me up. I couldn't stand by myself. I didnt think I'd had that much to drink. I remember Adam laying me on the bed, still fully clothed, while Ryan stood at the door. My eyes were closed. I felt Adam's weight lift off the bed to leave. I heard him say, don't try anything tonight, she needs to sleep, she's in a bad way. Ryan agreed. What a nice guy, I thought.

I woke up with my wrists pinned above my head. Ryan inside me. My first thought, despite what was happening was - how did we get to this? I couldn't remember. I tried to move but he shook his head and smiled. I'll remember that forever. I blacked out again.

When I woke in the morning, I was naked and disorientated. Ryan was getting dressed. He left with few words, and I sent him a text apologising for being so drunk.

I went to work, but I was in pain. I confided in my female line manager - she suggested it could be a UTI, and told me to go to hospital. The nurse who examined me questioned the bruises blossoming around my legs, and the friction-burn-like marks inside me. I didn't know what to say. I mumbled that I couldn't remember, embarrassed. She called another nurse over, who asked if I wanted to talk to anyone. I said I didn't. She gave me cream for my sores and told me to go home and rest. Even then, I didn't realise. I wondered if he'd given me a disease. Had he worn a condom? I didn't know, I couldn't remember.

I had texted Ryan a couple of times on the way home without a reply. I tried to call and he didn't answer. After I rang off, he text me almost immediately. He said he'd spoken to Katie, who said she had seen me that day. Apparently I'd hurled abuse at her, told her everything that had happened between Ryan and I, including that I had spent time with their son. She's lying, I replied furiously. I'd been at the hospital, I hadn't seen anyone. I tried to call him but he didn't answer, instead texting me telling me not to contact him again.

At work the next day, a friend of Ryan's - Lewis - approached me. He knew Ryan well, they had gone to school together. He said Ryan and Katie had never broken up, and Ryan had told Lewis that I was a one night stand, that he'd made a stupid mistake. I tried to protest, but he didn't believe me. I could've showed the messages or told him about the hotel but it would've been pointless. He was Ryan's close friend, and in any case he'd already made up his mind. Ryan told me he thought I was disgusting for what I said to Katie- something that never happened, and that I now believe he made up himself. Katie had nothing to do with it and knew nothing about us. Directly after all this, more than anything else I was embarrassed by what had happened. Ryan told people we slept together, that I'd lost my temper when he didn't want anything more and tried to ruin his relationship with lies. I didn't try to defend myself, to tell anyone the truth about us, or the little I could remember of that night. I didn't want to, I had no desire to relive what had happened, how uneasy the whole thing had made me feel and the shame and humiliation that went with it. I stayed with the company for a few years, and would still hear whispers at work events about me, what I'd allegedly said and done. That I was easy. More than once colleagues from other offices tried to touch me, or said inappropriate things when we were alone. I ignored it, and pretended not to care about any of it. I never spoke to Ryan again.

I didn't see myself as a victim, I didn't want to. I told myself in the weeks after that I just couldn't remember what had happened, we'd had sex, I must have wanted to. I was in denial. I know now. Ryan couldn't have known if I wanted to have sex with him because I was unconscious. I pushed what happened to the back of my mind. I didn't let myself think about it for a long time. I was scared to think about it, because if I thought too hard I would realise. I buried it, not wanting to admit the truth to myself, not wanting to feel like a victim. I didnt feel like I deserved sympathy, I knew Ryan, I had gone out drinking, I had agreed to the hotel. This was something that happened to women in the news, not to me. I would read articles about women stalked in the night and think - that is rape. A terrifying attack down an alleyway or in an empty carpark, not a hazy memory with someone I knew.

A couple of things happened that changed the way I felt, and made me realise that in order to begin healing, I would have to accept what happened. I watched a series called 13 Reasons Why. I was completely unprepared for how emotional I would feel when one of the characters was violated the way that I was. She had been drinking, woke to him raping her. Someone she knew, someone she thought of as a friend. She lied to herself and those around her to save the pain of facing it. I could identify with that.

Worse than a fictional character though, one of my best friends was sexually assaulted. She couldn't do more than confirm it to me, but she was brave enough to talk to her family and other friends, her boyfriend. I broke for her when I found out, and I wanted to tell her what happened to me, to tell her that she could survive and move on, but I couldn't. I wasn't brave enough, and I'm still not. And anyway, how could I say those things when I've never properly dealt with it myself? Even now I worry she wouldn't believe me.

I'm nervous when I'm out alone at night, but sadly I think most women are. My obstacles are in my day-to-day mentality. I struggle to trust anyone new as genuine. I question their motives. My self worth is low, I'm anxious when among new people and I second guess everything I say and do. My sex drive disappears for weeks at a time, despite being happy in my relationship. I agonise for days about trivial things, I replay conversations in my head. I think I'm seen among friends and family as outgoing, sociable and assertive, but I'm a prisoner in my own mind.

A few weeks after the incident, Pete and I got back together. We went back to how we were before his ex and before Ryan. We went on holiday, we went out, we had fun. He made me feel safe and cared for in a way that I had previously taken for granted. We've been together 8 years now. I have never told him a single thing about Ryan. I don't know if I will ever tell anyone close to me. I hoped that this would be therapeutic, and a way for me to get some closure.

When I was 19, I was raped. I've never said it out loud, not even to myself. But it happened, and I'm still here.

[jerihco-blog1]

howdy, y’all ! my name’s billy and this is my boy adrian jay woods, or as you may know him from dc comics: joseph “jericho” william wilson. below the cut you’re going to find a ton of information about my guy here and if you have any other questions, you are free to ask. if you’d like to PLOT please LIKE THIS or MESSAGE ME a.s.a.p. so we can start going through the motions. he was kind of important to the deathstroke comics & teen titans comics in the 80′s and 90′s, but he’s been there through other times more recently too, given the rebirth and all the new comics.

WARNING: 

there are some assumptions due to stuff from canon, if the characters are applied for i’ll hit them up. if i mess up otherwise, hit me up!

WARNING: 

also there are undescriptive mentions of violence, killing, death, depression, addiction, and jumping off the ledge. it also has a lot of spoilers. so if you are uncomfortable with these mentions, please skip to the third part of the bio where i talk about him modern day or hit me up if you haven’t heard of jericho before. 

DISCLAIMER:

so i totally forgot to mention that there are some things i won’t rp here because i’m a confusing person. i’m not comfortable rping: anything with any food (drinks and like fruit have always been find, but eating and like hotdogs and stuff make me feel gross), or nsfw (mainly nudity, sex, etc).

APPLICATION & PERSONALITY

№ — ( BRANDON FLYNN, HE/HIM & CISMALE, DC ) ┊ did you hear about JERICHO? i heard that they also go by JOSEPH WILSON - wait no ! they go by ADRIAN WOODS now - and are aged 23. they literally turned into dust for a hot second, so i don’t know how they’re doing, in all honesty. ( billy / 18 / est / he/him & they/them )

so honestly i wanna say i’ve read the rebirth comics and some of the 80′s, but otherwise i’m still working on all of the ones with jericho in it. i’ve just not had the time or patience for all the craziness there is in the comics. that being said, his portrayal is solely based on a mix of the comics and not from the movie or his tv show appearances. if arrow is adding jericho, i’m also ignoring that.

as both adrian and himself, his personality is pretty much the same. he’s a really big sweetheart who tries his best to be his best. he doesn’t like to fight, but when there really isn’t another option he knows how to hold himself up. while he places people on pedestals, he sees their flaws and chooses to ignore them. he can stand up for himself, but he’s just not that guy. he doesn’t let things go very easily and often times his negative thoughts become so within himself that it gets to be too much and it just comes out in a series of mistakes. he’s also got a clever sense of humor.

also he’s the child of slade wilson and adeline kane.

and he cannot speak due to a childhood incident, so to communicate he will use ASL or possession or his phone. there’s also some gloves that have been in the works for decades now so i think that when he was joseph he’d use that when in costume after he got his new suit to make battles easier for communication without it being completely just magic pill solution. sometimes the gloves don’t work or get hit so he also has a text to speech thing on him.

BEFORE THE SNAP - ( STATISTICS )

before the infinity war and the infamous snap and so much more, joseph was just your everyday kid. sure, his father and mother were dysfunctional at best and his older brother wanted nothing more than to run away from the family, but it wasn’t anything too abnormal. he went to parties when invited, got good grades, and had a fairly wide friend group.

his father and his children had a strained relationship, but in his own way he did show his children he loved them. he supported them when grant went towards having similar interests as himself, and he supported them when joseph started finding his passion in the arts.

one day his parents were fighting and his older brother, grant wilson, finally decided to run away for real. when he left, joey never got a chance to see him again until he heard he had been killed trying to kill the teen titans for a terrorist organization called h.i.v.e. many years later.

that day grant ran away though, was the day his father was contracted to kill a man who employed a villain named “jackal”. that death resulted in joseph’s kidnapping by said villain and in him getting his throat sliced - both taking his ability to speak and giving him his father’s blood in his system and triggering his mutant genes.

after joey healed in the hospital, his parents seperated and his mother ran away to new york with most of her things. his mother now resented slade and joey wouldn’t really see him again until much later.

so it was just his mother and him in the big apple and things were pretty relaxed. while he had to be a support rock for his mother, there were no more deaths and things due to slade being slade. life started to look up.

until the pair got mugged one day while shopping and joey found out he had the power to posess someone. after they were held at gunpoint, the boy’s eyes turned black and his irises a bright green and the next thing he knows, he’s in the guys body.

after this ability surfaced around his 11th birthday, joey wanted to be a superhero. he’s seen them on tv and he had this idea in his head he could save the world and bad things would stop happening. when he told his mother, she started training him to fight and got one of her old military friends to help create a bulletproof suit that would grow for him that looks like one of his 2nd comic ones HERE.

his crime “fighting” (he rarely went physical) mostly pertained to the area near the family home, stopping small crimes. he eventually was offered the name jericho by the creator of his original costume and it stuck. around this time his mother also started both her actual company “core policy group” and a side venture “searcher’s inc.”

when he was about 17, his mother had found out that his father was close to going through on the contract that her son, grant, had died trying to do; it was the one to kill the teen titans. so adeline started to watch and found a way to help when most of them were taken. she had told the remaining member about slade and what he did with them.

the catch was that joey had to come if she’d give exacts.

which he did go and after fighting his father, he was made an honorary member of the titans.

he started going on some missions with them and he even lived in the tower so that he could stay close by. 

while living there he started to grow closer to the group and it began to become easier to communicate with everyone. he wanted nothing more than to help and to be their friends so after a year or so they made him an actual member. especially after being hospitalized from trying to posess raven when trigon finally got to her.

(okay from this point forward i’ve changed two things from his actual comic appearences: he doesn’t turn genuinely evil, and he doesn’t date david isherwood. he is bisexual and i will never erase that, but the second of those two things was creepy because david watched joey grow up and the first thing just wasn’t in line with what his personality has always been. he was always the lawful good of slade’s children and i ain’t doing that.)

after he got initiated into the teen titans he almost betrayed their trust. his mother was kidnapped and because the government was trying to find both of them, her for possible treason and him for questioning, some of the group distrusted him when he fled after cheshire took her. he went after her and after they all got home he explained everything. it would take a while to regain their trust.

and when he did AGAIN something happened. a year later, when he was around 19 years old, his morality started to change. he started to do things out of character and it would be argued he turned evil. it turns out he was starting to be taken over by the trigon-corrupted souls of azarath as they couldn’t enter raven. he started this whole event where he tried to take over the world but when his real self finally came through he found he was surrounded by friends and his father. his last words were asking his father to kill him, and so he did.

or that’s what joseph thought. when he woke up in a hospital (again) he found himself back to normal. but, he still didn’t trust himself to join the titans again. he went evil and he didn’t want to again. especially in front of his friends. so when he finally could, he emailed them telling them he quit and deleted the account. then changing his phone number and moving to a flat that his mother “technically” bought.

then his mother wanted to help him in the real world and offered him a major place at her job, which he accepted with open arms. there he got a assistant/interpreter and they kind of hit it off.

she helped him learn more about the business world and while they spent so much time together they developed feelings for eachother. they were about the same age and it was a perfect life. Sure, he had the itch to go and be a hero again, but he stayed for his life and even started college.

it was perfect until it wasn’t. he was 22 then and he had decided to get engaged and tell his family. he told his mother, who was conflicted, his half sister who had been in his life on and off, and then an old family friend: david isherwood. david had a suit that could fly from wherever he was, so joey invited him over to meet étienne so he could get to know her. when they got to talking up on the roof in private on his final night in new york, david didn’t approve and started to threaten to tell her about his past alter ego.

honestly, joey was scared because he wanted to keep that part of his life in the past and while this boy wouldn’t hurt a single bone in someone else’s body, he impulsively did something that he regretted the moment it happened; he took over david’s body and then jumped off the building. he made eye contact at the last second with a passerby and then he cried.

over the course of the night he wound up taking his ikon suit (look HERE for more) to hide david’s identity (later to be used as his own personal suit) and, after realizing he was alive, taking him to a hospital as the passerby. when he went back to the rooftop he took back over his body and he had to convince the woman not to call the police. 

following the possible death of a role model, he started to have migraines and after seeing a doctor about it and them telling him to think about seeing a therapist, he ignored them and kept taking pain medication (eventually moving up to oxycodon when his perscription ended) that he should need. he eventually grew dependent on them and afterwards it started to affect his life. he hid his problems and around this time he also took on the stress of being an independent hero again. he told his fiance all about his past so that they can look for the future.

so three days before his wedding date, three things happen: 1. he finds out that his fiance is cheating on him with his father and working with the government to spy on slade, 2. he brings back david isherwood from the dead, 3. he has a major fight with his fiance and she decides to stay in the hotel until their wedding day.

on their wedding day she sort of died... murdered on the chapel stairs... so basically that started an episode. he started by mourning and then gave further into his addiction, resulting in him attacking his father and then shattering his sister’s skull when she tried to stop him. he genuinely thought his father was responsible when in reality it was his sister (but not).

while dealing with his loss, he also had to deal with his father’s insanity again when he tried to make things better in his life by stealing the flash’s superspeed and saving grant wilson from dying. this is the first time he sees the titans again and he decides to stay in david’s suit HERE to keep them from recognizing him.

after stopping his father he finally goes get help with a “narcotics anonymous” group. during this time he can heal more when david tells him he forgives joey.

this past year he has joined a group his mother started and - arguably - slade wilson leads called “project defiance”. it’s a good guy group and the only reason he joined was for his mother and to find out a definitive answer on who killed his fiance.

on this team he also starts dating romantically again instead of the short and sweet relationships he started to go through.

sometime down this line his father actually gets “kidnapped” by the, mutated, david isherwood. joseph helps him for a hot minute out but in the process his suit is turned off mid-flight. he ends up in the hospital yet again and he refuses to take pain medication because he’s really sticking through with recovery.

about a month before the infinity war, he decided to quit project defiance when there was nothing to really benefit from but the team disbanded when a team member, karen starr, looked to be dead.

after he left the project, he decided to keep on the heroing and keep up with all his career things too. he was finally in a better place, despite having to worry about his family and his boyfriend’s more mundane problems, and he was finally getting the therapy he needed.

then word of thanos reached him. he decided that despite the ikon suit being useless, he had to help. maybe he can get in him and figure out his motives or something- so he left to join the war.

when he finally got there he was rendered useless mere minutes after looking into thanos’ eyes through the ones of one of the other enemys. his astral body was inside thanos for a second before he was sent out by thanos; the shock was like when he was cast out from raven. he was paralyzed, but back in his own body on the battlefield. this time there was no time to take him to heal somewhere and when thanos finally had all the stones, he was with the unfortunate half of the universe.

SIX MONTHS LATER - ( STATISTICS )

well maybe unfortunate wasn’t that true. when adrian came to be, there wasn’t a forced smile or even weight on his shoulders. he was at peace.

when joseph woke up as adrian he had woken up on the streets of new york, guitar case on his back and a tune in his head. he already had his life story- well the parts that he could remember. he knew that he was on his way to the crowded apartment he called home just for a moment: long enough to grab his sketchpad and charcoal pencil.

adrian’s past is something of mystery. the first thing he remembers in life was his 13 year old self in a white room and lights. apparently, his father and him were in an accident, him being the survivor, and he didn’t have a mother to remember. he didn’t have permanent injuries besides him losing his voice, but that didn’t hurt him.

whatever happened didn’t concern him (you can’t grieve what you can’t remember), a mysterious aunt and cousin (who he’d come to know as the younger, but headstrong, alessandra “alex” lo - formerly known as rose wilson) came into his life to take care of the young woods kid and soon everything was okay.

adrian lived a happy life in a small town near nyc. he was a popular kid; he played guitar for the jazz band, he knew just about everyone, he was the sweetest little thing, he painted the town square mural, and there was just something in him people felt drawn to. he and his cousin were inseperable and genuinely life seemed pretty grand.

so when he graduated and decided to try his music career in the big apple, the town told him to visit and just about everyone sent him a little gift in the mail. it was a really sweet gesture.

when he got to the city, things were pretty good. he bumped into problems due to his voice, but he still managed things and generally the vibes were something that just worked for him. 

day one he had actually found roomates by accident and rolled with it and the next year he started making his money through the arts. he painted portraits in central park (despite his art being personal, he felt like painting for others made it so much easier to connect and he just loved features) and then one day he had his guitar and started playing while he was waiting for the next person.

next thing he knows he has an actual job in a bar in town and he’s doing that too: playing guitar on their makeshift stage.

now he’s still doing that and he’s just content. one day he’ll get a big break, but does he even want that anymore? he’s never been this content with himself, even if he’s starting to question what happened to him.

he’s content, but sometimes depression hits him but that’s just life. he just feels like some of this is funny and sometimes he just wonders if this is what he deserves or was supposed to do. he’ll have episodes every once and a while and they can last as long as he’s thinking. and he thinks a lot.

obviously i don’t have as much detail here, but basically if you knew joseph and met adrian you’d be so much happier for him. i kind of imagine that his mother, for example, plays into the lie?? once she found out her son was alive of course. because just his life was just turning around but he was constantly waiting for something bad to happen and here he’s just like “am i supposed to be feeling this content, i feel awful for it” up and down. but it’s like he’s better off being the fake him.

basically this is what his life could have been like without the family he had.

also his powers are still triggered because they were from his father’s blood on the blade in his past life but he doesn’t know that yet. i imagine he’ll find out by accident but someone come and attack him please. or put him in a situation.