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out-of-jams · 4 years

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Across the Board || i || kth

(banner done by the great @kimtaehyunq )

↠ Across the Board ↞ You’d hit a low point in life. With bills piling up and your bank account empty, you were starting to get desperate. So when you got the invite to your oldest friend’s birthday party being hosted at the most popular underground casino in town, what did you possibly have to lose? You took what little you had left in your savings, put your card skills to use, and entered a private blackjack game.

And you’d won. And went back for more, and more, and more.

Until you lost.

And now you’re indebted to the city’s most dangerous mob boss, forced to pay your dues in blood one way or another. With a gun pushed into your hands and your life at stake; once you’re in, you’re in. You’ll never get out.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Genre: Set in the Roaring 20s! Gambling. Mature themes. Mafia!au. Mafia Don!Taehyung. Violence. Law breaking. Alcohol use. Death of minor characters. Explicit language. Enemies to lovers. Short series. 18+

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Danger.

It was a word right up there alongside the definition for the term “stupidity.” While not next to each other in the dictionary, they were close enough that your brain was unable to pick out the subtle differences. Perhaps you’d just always had a habit for screwing your life up, or maybe it was just genetics. Who knew?

You should have listened to the warnings, should have stopped yourself before you got in too deep. Hell, you should have done a lot of things. But you had no one to blame for your current situation except for yourself. However, if you’d learned anything throughout your twenty-two short years of life, it was that life lessons didn’t mean jack if you didn’t get yourself into messes into the first place.

Though staring down the barrel of a revolver sure was a funny way of going about it.

The air in the dimly lit back corner room was tense enough to hear the sound of a casino chip fall to the ground somewhere beyond the shut door. None of the six men sitting around the round, green felted table spoke a word. Their attention — and yours, consequently — was fixed on the single man in the room who barely even batted an eye at the clear panic evident on your face.

He sat on the opposite side of you; the scowl pulling down his bow shaped lips and the narrowing of his fierce gaze had fear chilling your veins. That man was much like an exotic animal; beautiful beyond belief, but dangerous right beneath the surface. A carnivore staring down his prey. The single light above the table threw his shadow against the wall as he casually aimed his pistol right between your eyes.

“You were saying, dollface?”

His neatly parted, straight black hair fell across his face when he leaned forward as if the next words out of your mouth would seal your fate. Not that the thought of having to have your blood cleaned from the expensive carpet beneath his expensive shoes seemed to bother him in the slightest. In fact, he’d look almost bored if it weren’t for the dangerous gleam behind his espresso irises.

“I—” You cut yourself off, swallowing roughly and glancing back down at the table. A depleted deck of cards sat in the center, two hands laid out on the surface. One was yours — a ten of diamonds and a ten of clubs — and the other his. A red ace of spades and a black jack of hearts.

You were out of money.

Having bet more than you possessed, you were also out of chances.

“It’s simple. You owe me money as promised,” his deep, baritone voice spoke up casually over the noise of your heart beating through your chest. “Either hand it over, or you won’t be leaving this room alive. Your choice.”

You closed your eyes for a moment too long to be called a blink, and cursed yourself for ever getting into this situation.

One Month Ago

Final Notice of Payment

Ms. L/n,

This is a reminder that you have a balance of $20.54 that is past due. Please make a one time payment no later than—

“Oh, please.” The bill enclosed envelope hit the top of the small, circular dining room table. Or was it the kitchen table? It was hard to tell, seeing as how they were one and the same.

A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back against the creaky wooden chair, fingers massaging your temples. That was the third bill you’d come across that morning and every single one of them was the final notice of payment. The last warning they’d give before sending someone to collect what was owed.

It hadn’t always been like that. You hadn’t always been in such an insurmountable amount of debt, not until recently. Two months ago your mother, the last bit of family you had left, died. Passed away clinging to the sheets of the hospital bed she’d been laid up in for the past half a year. Cancer, the doctors had said. From all of the cigarettes she’d burned through in the past decade or so.

Irrecoverable, they’d said.

No amount of “sorry’s” or meaningless condolences could fix the massive amount of money that the hospital billed you. Or the debt that your mother left behind, along with her slim-boned corpse that you’d had to bury in the corner of the city cemetery. Perhaps if you’d known who your father was, you could’ve laid her to rest in the space next to his own, but you didn’t. Weren’t fortunate enough to.

Bills had piled up. Rent for the tiny studio apartment the two of you had shared was demanded by the pigeon-toed old woman who owned the rundown, overpriced building. Her husband had passed away two years ago and ever since then, she’d been relentless. She pounded on your door at approximately eight in the morning everyday, shouting through the thin wood that you had until the week was up to pay what was owed. Otherwise you’d be tossed out onto the street with only the clothes on your back.

Combined with the utility bill and the fact that you still had to come up with the dough to feed yourself, you were trapped. The meagre pennies you got from your waitressing job at the diner three blocks away weren’t nearly enough. Nothing would be enough. Not unless you wanted to sell your body on the street corners in the late of night.

Which you didn’t. And you wouldn’t. You’d be more likely to end up dead in a ditch somewhere with your throat cut than out of debt. The city wasn’t safe for women, less so by those men who saw prostitutes as no more than an object to relieve stress onto. And you refused to become another headline in the paper.

Tossing the opened envelope across the table, you paused when familiar handwriting caught your eye on top of the rest of the mail pile. Addressed to you in a curling script that only ever came from someone who could afford a private tutor. You sighed, carefully sliding a knife along the top to slice it open. A waft of sweet, cherry scented perfume filled your tiny kitchen and you almost rolled your eyes at the unnecessary addition.

Jennie, your oldest friend since high school, always had an inclination for the unnecessary. Born with a silver spoon in her mouth and a gold digger for a mother, she’d had nothing else to waste her time on. How you’d even gotten on as friends with such a gap between tax brackets was still a mystery to you. Maybe it was because she’d always used her wealth and status to get the two of you out of trouble. Whether it was from breaking into the school late at night to get wasted in the halls with the rest of her friends, or to get away with slipping things from the corner store into your dress pockets.

She’d always been a rule breaker.

Which was exactly why when you read the contents of the letter, a laugh tumbled from your mouth. It was an invitation to celebrate her upcoming twenty-third birthday in three day’s time. That wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary, however, if it weren’t for the location. There wasn’t an exact address, there never was. Just a thin piece of cardboard the size of your hand that fell from the envelope. A playing card — a red ace. One that looked normal except for the center that had the name of a restaurant in the heart of the most rich part of downtown printed on it.

It was a ticket to the most popular underground casino in the whole city. No one knew how to get one, how to get your name onto the list that only catered to the rich and powerful. Located beneath a restaurant, it had grown to be infamous almost overnight since gambling and alcohol was outlawed. Even the coppers knew well enough to leave the establishment alone.

The only way to gain entrance was by flashing a ticket to one of the restaurant staff. That was what you’d heard, at least. You had no idea how May had managed to secure one, let alone enough to cover what you knew would be a large party of her closest friends.

Flicking the corner of the card, you couldn’t believe your luck.

Your mother hadn’t taught you very many things, had been too busy gossiping with her friends over a carton of cigarettes to bother. What she had passed down, however, was her ability to draw cards. To play blackjack with the best of them. That’d been the only thing she’d ever bothered to teach you; when she’d had too many sips of wine and her eyes had glazed over with memories of the life she used to live.

She’d sit you down and make you memorize the names and faces of the cards until you could count them forward and backwards. Could predict what card would be drawn and when. Where she’d learned it, she’d never told you. But that didn’t matter now. Couldn’t, seeing as she was dead and all.

Grinning, you flopped back into your chair.

Maybe you’d be able to pay off your debts after all.

And you had. Paid off your debt, that is.

After clearing out your savings account of the last fifteen dollars you had left to your name, you’d dolled yourself up and gone with Jennie and her friends. Had left the group of flappers tittering and groaning drunk at the line of slot machines at the back of the casino. Calls of bets being placed, dough exchanging for chips, and illegal cocktails pouring into glasses played as a soundtrack.

None of the card tables scattered across the underground establishment held what you’d been looking for. Neither roulette, nor craps, nor slots. The bartender had been the one to tell you where the real games were, where the cash was. A door down a tiny back hallway led to a room where private games were held. If you managed to win at one, he’d told you, then you’d win not only the pot, but an invitation to come back and play again.

Which had been an opportunity that you just couldn’t pass up. No matter the risk.

You’d won.

And now you were addicted.

To the money, the lifestyle, the adrenaline that shot through your veins like a particularly harsh sip of gin. Which was exactly why you’d gone back. Again, and again, and again, every single week for the past month. It wasn’t your fault that it was so easy. So simple to swindle your way into getting your name permanently written down on the entry list.

Oh, and the men.

It was a different group every week, but they weren’t all that dissimilar from one another. They’d sit there and smoke their cigars and drink their whiskey, all while silently mocking you with their eyes. Like they thought they were better than you just because they had a dick between their legs.

You were addicted to that too.

To watching the way their faces would fall in disbelief every single time you cleared the pot and took their money. And how their voices would raise in pitch with their countless complaints about how some lowly broad conned them out of their pocket change. Because that’s all that money was to people like them.

Change.

They were rich. You could tell by the custom suits they wore, the cologne they bathed in, the way they carried themselves. The money they gambled with always had a cap, a max amount that they were willing to bet. And the games never got too crazy, didn’t escalate once they lost to you. Which was a shame really, because you wanted more. Craved more. More of what, you weren’t too sure, but the high that playing brought only lasted so long until you came crashing back down.

Which was exactly when fate decided to change the routine.

“Here to play again, miss?” Felix, the same teenage boy who always manned the door to the gambling room, asked with a slight tilt of his head. His light brunette hair was tucked beneath a bowler hat, different from the usual fedora. Back to the door, he was standing up straight instead of his normal slouch. And the way his mouth was taught around the edges was out of the ordinary as well.

The boy didn’t have a cigarette clenched between his teeth, which should have been enough to set off the bells in your head. But it didn’t. Because you were too bullheaded, had gotten too cocky in the terms of things.

“You know me too well, Felix.” You reached out a hand to pat the lanky boy on his suit clad arm lightly, a smile pulling up at your red painted lips. “Is the usual table ready?”

The volume in the casino wasn’t as loud either, nor were there quite as many patrons. But you’d just chalked that up to the heavy rain pounding a path into the concrete outside. Though the lack of customers did nothing to eliminate the permanent smell of cigarette smoke that lingered, hidden in the walls beneath the fancy looking wallpaper.

“I don’t know if you want to play today, miss.” Felix glanced away from you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You blamed the flickering light in the corner of the hall for the way his freckles stood out amongst his slowly paling cheeks.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

He didn’t answer. Not at first. Silence lingered in the hall, drowning in the soft jazz music coming from the band on the stage near the back of the joint. It took the raising of your other brow for the underaged boy to finally answer.

“It’s just not a good day for gambling.”

Now that had you leaning forward until you could finally catch his flighty gaze, voice hushed in a playful whisper. “Oh really, how so? Is there a stool-pigeon running about somewhere? Should we be expecting the coppers to come kicking down the door any minute?”

“No. I—”

“Then why can’t I play, Felix?” You were starting to get irritated. The week had been long and you were ready to forget about it all for the next few hours. Buried beneath the weight of a handful of cards and glass full of gin.

Either Felix could see your growing impatience, or there really was something he was hiding, because he stepped even further in front of the door. “You don’t want to play with this group, miss. They aren’t as welcoming as the others are. It’d be best if you just went home.”

“You ca—”

“And what’s going on back here?” That wasn’t Felix’s voice and neither was it yours. You whipped around, surprised at the new addition.

The man behind you had honey brown hair parted and styled carefully until it was brushed back away from his heart-shaped face. Though some of it still hung in front of a single, dark eye. His other was uncovered, a scar running through his eyebrow and cutting it in half. Everything about him was angular, sharp. From his jawline to the slope of his nose and the corners of his full lips.

One look and you already pegged him for a cake-eater, a ladies man, if you’d ever seen one. Hell, he even dressed like he came right off the front cover of one of those Time magazines that littered the newspaper stands on every street corner. With a navy blue suit and perfect, unscuffed shoes.

“No, sir,” Felix attempted to pull the man’s attention from you unsuccessfully. “The missus here was just leaving.”

The Stranger hummed, tilting his head to study you with those sharp eyes of his. “Were you, bunny? Just leaving?”

You couldn’t help the twitch of your nose at the unfavorable nickname, squaring your shoulders and crossing your arms with a scoff. “No, I wasn’t. I want to play a few rounds, you see, but he won’t let me.”

Perhaps you should have felt bad for ratting out the kid, but you didn’t. Especially not when the Stranger huffed a laugh, a distinct ha-ha-ha! in amusement. Though there was something else in his eyes that you couldn’t name. Didn’t want to acknowledge. “You want to play a hand of blackjack, is that right?”

“Ab-so-lute-ly.” You raised an eyebrow at the man and waved a hand through the air. “I can play.”

“Oh,” He asked, taking a step closer until you had to crane your neck back to meet his imploring gaze. “Playing isn’t cheap.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I can pay too.”

He must have been waiting for that answer if the smirk that pulled at his lips was any indication. And he finally, finally broke eye contact to wave aside the boy behind you. “Well, did the dame make herself clear or not? She wants to play.”

You happened to turn just in time to catch the alarm that flickered across Felix’s face as he stepped to the side to reveal the door behind him. Felix reached out with a ringed hand to twist the brass knob of the door. It swung open without a sound and he gave you a quick, wide-eyed stare filled with a warning you couldn’t interpret, before looking away.

“Well?” The Stranger questioned from over your shoulder. You could smell his cologne now; husky with a hint of sweet orange.

His words were an invitation if you’d ever heard one. And you didn’t want to look like a bluenose, a prude, so you stepped inside without hesitation. Though perhaps you should have taken Felix’s unspoken warning, for you had no idea just what it was that you were walking into.

Inside the cramped room was filled with a haze of cigar smoke, which wasn’t unusual at all. What was, however, was the group of six men sitting at the circular table as you rounded the corner with the Stranger at your back. They were beautiful, all of them. A huge contrast to the usual rabble that came to play. Hell, even underneath the dim light you couldn't spot a single flaw on them.

No one noticed your entrance at first.

Well, at least not until the Stranger cleared his throat. “Gentleman.”

His greeting sounded like it toed somewhere on the line between amusement and respect.

All movement in the room came to a halt as six men looked up from where they’d been bent over the blackjack table. If you’d been a little less prideful and a lot more careful, then perhaps the overbearing confidence that bled from their pores would have given you pause. But as it was, you stood standing, back straight and head held high. Even while their eyes roamed your figure like tigers behind a cage at the zoo right before feeding time.

A pause hovered in the air, lingering with a tension that crawled onto your skin. What seemed like hours passed merely in seconds before it was broken.

“And who’s this?” The question came from the fella who sat in the chair closest to where you stood. He was turned around with his arm propped up on the back of it, head tilted to the side in curiosity. His hair was styled similar to the Stranger’s, though his was darker and the gel pushed through the strands made it gleam silver beneath the dim lamp that hung above the table.

High cheekbones and skin the same color as molten honey, his jaw worked around a piece of gum stuck between his teeth. A smirk pulled up at the corner of his mouth, dark eyes glittering with a touch of interest. With a black and white suit that complimented the shade of his hair, the man was nothing if not a billboard: flashy. Handsome.

“I found bunny here outside arguing with Felix. Something about wanting to play a few rounds of blackjack. Isn’t that right?” The Stranger placed a heavy palm between your shoulder blades. What might have been intended to come off as comforting, only succeeded in making you feel the opposite. Like you were being put on display.

You didn’t let it show on your face. “That’s right.”

“Oh?” Gum Chewer’s smirk grew broader at that, but he said nothing else. Just leaned back in his chair.

“What do you say, should we let her play?” Blond hair, pink kissable lips and dangerous, dangerous eyes. The slim man sitting next to Gum Chewer was attractive in a pretty way that made you envious of his easy-on-the-eyes looks.

While the question may have been asked to the whole room, none of them answered it. Instead they looked towards one of the men sitting in the middle who had yet to speak. If you’d thought the rest of them were a sight for sore eyes, well, they had nothing on him. How your attention hadn’t been drawn to him the moment you walked through the door, you didn’t know.

He wasn’t even looking at you and you already felt tongue-tied. Busying himself with shuffling the cards in his hands against the green felt table, the expensive looking rings adorning his slender fingers caught your eye. He was what your mother would’ve called a timeless beauty. The type of handsome that meant he could walk the streets of the city in nothing but a sack and he’d have women throwing themselves at his feet.

Hair the same shade as a moonless sky made him look intimidating, like he belonged to the shadows themselves. A straight nose, cupid bow lips and long eyelashes that would make any broad jealous; he gave off the type of power that could make even the bravest of men cower at his feet. The longer he took to respond, the more the room grew still. As if your fate was in the hands of a man who’s name you didn’t even know.

Though perhaps it was.

A muffled thud echoed throughout the room as he tapped the deck of cards against the table once, twice, before sliding them over to the fella to his left. Plucking up the glass of scotch in front of him, he finally looked up. And graced you with the prettiest chocolate brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“What’s your name, dollface?”

tagged: @bewitch-me @jxngkooksthxghs @kaitswrld @clarissalance @namurkive @ifntelyinspirit @kotaevln @red--aren @ggukkieland @moonlitmyg @i-like-puppy-mg @aianloveseven @drumsofheaven @figurativehoe00 @wonhoandonly @wacdon @hear-me-growl @milaridez7 @1088x1088 @alana-ba @vlntaeg

#bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #magicshopnet #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #bts #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #jungkook #jimin #namjoon #hoseok #seokjin #yoongi

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undergrounddweller89 · 3 years

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(look you don't have to like this, I'm not expecting anyone to, I just needed to write and if there's the possibility that even one person was hoping I'd write more and enjoys it then that's cool, just don't be a dick about it, it's more house mate au stuff, don't hope for continuity by that I mean it's just all over the place and nothing makes sense , just expect what ever came to my head at the time lol)

Walter was sat at his work table, fiddling with one of his new devices working on to perfect it, no I can't think of anything specific so I'll let you fill in that with your imagination.

The day had been long, his lab assistant Timothy Lawrence (Yea that Timothy if you know him because reasons) had been pretty quiet but done as told so at least that made it easier.

He was tired as the day had gone on his mood had sunk, what was he doing teasing Killian like that, honestly spanking him with the hair brush, he knew some of the things Killian had been up to.

But it was more likely a sign of marking territory or just because he had needs right and it was exciting to do things where you shouldn't.

The blade he was handling slipped and ran across the pad of his index finger, he hissed in pain, seeing the blood smear under the blue latex, pooling to drip, focusing on the red colour he hadn't even noticed Timothy running to fetch the first aid kit.

Pulling his gloves off he discarded them and popped open the box that had been set on the table.

"Thanks Timmy."

Walter smiled a little as he tended to his finger, he hated how the skin felt parting every time he flexed his finger.

Cleaning up and applying what was needed, thankful it wouldn't need stitches.

He wondered what Killian was up to, watching TV, reading maybe, did he eat, did he have enough to drink, was he in a depressive mood, was he mad that hed spanked him, he really should send a message.

Pulling his phone from his lab pocket he texted him.

'Hope you're day has been good, hope you're well, sorry if I upset you this morning.'

He shifted and rubbed a shoulder, he didn't realise how stiff his back had gone, being in charge of a division meant he'd somewhat lost track of self care making sure to do his stretches.

Timothy stood here watching his boss, lot better than the last one, this one was kind and genuine, always looking out for people, honestly Beckett made him feel safe and relaxed, he wasn't looking for anything serious but even he could see that furrowed bow and the lean that spelt hey I'm exhausted let me die.

Walking around and behind him he slowly massaged his shoulders, they were small and rather petite for someone Walter's age but it was more lean muscle and just body build, he just hadn't seen many men like Walter where he'd come from, he was rather pretty.

Walter had considered telling him to stop but when his fingers pressed into that one perfect spot in his shoulder blades he melted, ooooh that just felt so damn good and shit when was the last time he'd had contact, had someone be closer to him...he liked Killian...wondered if they could be more, but he didn't believe for one second that they could be lovers or bed fellows for one moment...not that he wouldn't be interested in finding out but Killian had been there a month, like he wasn't going to make him uncomfortable and feel like that the only way he could stay was if he dated him.

(I keep forgetting times or how many days set shrugs just don't expect like decent continuity, I write these because I need to just write things and moments)

Walter leaned forward arms folded and face buried in them

"Sorry sir, am I doing that badly?"

Timothy's enquired nervously, his hands going still.

"No, please don't stop, I literally didn't realise how stiff I was, you have good hands, I'm just so tired Timothy, I could really use it if you don't mind that is."

"Not at all sir."

Tim smiled happy to know he was helping, yes much nicer than his last boss, Walter was smart but he was also fragile, like him he loved his mother and when he'd heard Walters mother had died when he was small he wanted to scoop him up and just hug him.

A talk with Lance at one point and he'd learned that was a natural reaction for anyone with a heart around Walter who didn't have their head up their ass.

Which had practically been the last tech department Beckett had worked in, that totally wasn't cool that they'd done that to such a brilliant mind, it was so much fun working on items that didn't kill people and actually helped them!

Walter was imagining the fingers loosening the knots in his back were Killian, wondered what that would feel like with those pretty metal claws, but he never forgot it was Timothy, after all Timothy deserved more respect than that.

Looking over his shoulder at him, auburn hair flopping off to one side, Tim's hands on his waist he noticed the subtle blush.

"You wanna go grab some dinner or something in a minute there's a corner café I know, makes steak sandwiches and baked potatoes with a perfect crispy skin, a warm meal sounds pretty nice don't you think?"

Tim in the angle he was in was trying not to think about how suggestive this looked, he would absolutely lean down and kiss Walter if he thought it was an option, it really was a casual thing he felt, but Walter just looked so pretty and like he needed someone to carry him right now.

Continuing to rub his back Timothy nodded

"Yeah that sounds pretty nice actually."

---

At home Killian had found plenty to do, he'd read, watched tv, all in Walters bed of course, just to feel close to him as he could, he did wonder after handling himself, if Walter could see him as anything more than a friend, someone more than a few passing jokes between the other...turning his head and taking in his scent as he buried his face into a pillow again, looking forward to seeing those blue eyes...he should really get out of Walter's bed and get the covers washed.

Beckett brought comfort to his mind after his years of suffering, the sunrise after the storm.

He'd talked to Lovey, wondering if she could understand him, she was surprisingly responsive to his rambling as he worked on his arm, updating the tech and keeping up with maintenence.

Living here with Walter and slowly working past things with Lance and seeing he had genuinely started changes of his own, it made it easier with how Walter talked about him on the job, that he considered all options before violence and discussed the situations with him...it was good to know Beckett had helped Lance to.

He was glad to know Walter's field partner was a good one, though his lab partner, this Timothy Lawrence seemed to be pretty chummy didn't he, he'd seen a picture, thick brown hair, heterochromia eyes, blue and green to be exact and a chiseled jaw, in other words a damn pretty boy and he didn't want him around Walter.

He huffed folding his arms, yes he was jealous he was going to be pouty, before his injury he had thick black hair and had been known to be a very handsome man, now he looked like he'd been put through a grinder when he took off his holo mask and this Timothy Lawrence just had to be Walter's lab partner, he'd be around him alot and-

His phone buzzed, it'd been put on the side table and he read the text that'd come through and there was another one.

'Going out to dinner with Timothy, don't know what time I'll be back, have fun you probably need a break from me anyway lol 😂'

Killian's eye twitched, he nearly threw the damn phone, but how would he explain that, honestly he couldn't, Tristan sighed, shoulders drooping a little and answered his questions

'It's been a relaxing day, did work on the arm, Lovey' s surprisingly easy to talk to, watched a little television but perhaps you could suggest something to watch, it's rather hard deciding with all these options and no Walter you didn't upset me, though you left in a hurry, you do not need to avoid me. You're not a bother. Are you alright?'

'I'm so happy you're warming up to her! That's awesome! Also it's good you have time to relax, ten years of hectic stress you're more than overdue! I...well I was more embarrassed than anything, I reacted on instinct, last boyfriend liked that well that's probably more than you needed to know, but yeah I'll help you pick something to watch see you later!'

Last boyfriend? Spanking, Walter had, he had...Killian shifted well the blankets were starting to tent, the idea of being put over Walters petite lap and being told he was a very bad man came to mind.

He liked it.

A lot.

He looked at his phone as it pinged again.

'And god damn it, make sure you eat something for dinner, don't just go picking out the cupboard!'

Killian snickered and replied

'Yes Daddy, I'll make sure to eat something.'

After sending the text he realised what he'd written and wished he could take back that text, wincing as he managed to look at the response

'Behave, eat dinner or I'll put you over my knee young man.'

Killian stared and stared at that answer, he knew Walter was just teasing but, his cheeks were warm and he was...was he blushing.

----

"You all set to go Timothy?"

Walter smiled, his back was feeling a hundred times better after Timothy had dug into the knots, it wasn't a surprise that he was good with his hands, you had to have nimble ones to work with the tech they used here.

"Yeah, just coming boss!"

He pulled his satchel over his shoulder after pulling on his old brown leather jacket

"Please Timothy don't call me that, call me daddy."

Walter laughed at how silly that sounded

"I'm sorry, pfffft don't call me that god please, no, Walter's just fine."

Tim had paused a moment a slight fear he might have a streak like his last boss after all but that laugh was too warm and giggly and just shook his head with a smile

"Wouldn't dream of it Walter, you're more of a kitten anyway."

Timmy felt his insides tighten a little and there was that hint of Jack Dna surfacing.

"So shall we go?"

Beckett enquired looking up at him, huh he kinda looked like Killian, just a little.

"Ready when you are."

And with that they were off.

(Alright end of this ramble, Timothy has been thrown in because I needed the gasp drama of prolongation and shit and didn't have the energy to create an oc and honestly I'll mash anything from anywhere if it's convenient bleh)

#Spies in disguise #Au #walter beckett #Killian #Timothy lawrence #I don't even know anymore #Sometimes I just write and bs comes out #I'm tired

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mankai-onlyfans · 4 years

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Mankai Method Acting 6/2

Character Profiles

Spring Troupe: 🙇‍♂️ Host Club

Itaru Chigasaki --- Ruby

• Welcome to the Shining Jewel Host Club, where all our guests are treated like royalty, the shining jewels in our crown. Ruby is the ringleader of the host club, and the most requested member of the club. He began the Shining Jewel as a fun side business with his friends. Charming, suave, and considerate, he's the picturesque boyfriend.

Sakuya Sakuma --- Emerald

• Emerald has been friends with Ruby since high school, and they've always talked about going into business together. While Ruby is the dreamer and visionary, Emerald serves as the critic, considering each plan and picking out the flaws to be solved. He's as sharp as his name, quick to call out those around him, and is perfect for guests who prefer a tsundere type.

Citron --- Jasper

• Jasper has the most gap between his real personality and his host persona. In real life, he's cunning and sly, always arranging the chess board in his favor. But if you showed any of his guests this side of him, they wouldn't recognize him. As a host, Jasper is the epitome of the boy next door, and he charms guests of all types with his innocent and sweet charm.

Masumi Usui --- Sapphire

• Sapphire takes care of most of the runnings of the Host Club, from budgeting to catering. If Ruby is the director, then Sapphire is the stage manager. Sapphire aims to be the caretaker boyfriend, anticipating his guests needs and pampering them beyond their wildest dreams.

Tsuzuru Minagi --- Onyx

• Onyx plays the part of the sleepy boyfriend. Cuddling, dozing, and sharing snacks is the way he shows affection to his guests. He loves any form of skinship, and will get pouty if his guests play coy about it. Onyx is fully content with this arrangement, and most of the time doesn't even consider being a host as work.

Summer Troupe: ⚽️ Sports Stars

Misumi Ikaruga --- Kenta

• Kenta loves soccer. It's his biggest passion in life, and all he wants is to be able to play with his friends and have fun. But once he enters high school, team tryouts start to get more cutthroat. He's the only one of his friends who makes it onto the new team. Faced between a chance of popularity and his closest friends, Kenta decides to rewrite the rules, and forms his own soccer team with himself and his friends, determined that they can be successful if they all stick together.

Tenma Sumeragi --- Hiroshi

A ball of energy, Hiroshi is team's loveable goofball. He's always cracking jokes and keeping his friends' spirits up. He was the first to join Kenta's new team - the Uncooked Noodles - and is the most determined, behind Kenta himself, to see them succeed.

Muku Sakisaka --- Aito

Aito is a jack of all trades, but he struggles with focus. He's in almost every extracurricular at school, and his friends don't know how he keeps track of everything. The answer is his digital planner, which is more valuable to him than gold. Aito is under a lot of pressure from his parents to get excellent grades, and upkeep all of his extracurriculars, even though soccer is the only one he really enjoys.

Yuki Rurikawa --- Yosuke

Yosuke was always a lone wolf. He hasn't been playing for as long as the others, and his biggest fear is being deadweight to the team. That's why he trains twice as hard, oftentimes collapsing by the end of practice. But seeing his friends' smiling faces as they help him to his feet makes him feel like he's finally a part of something.

Kazunari Miyoshi --- Koji

• Koji is the goalie for the team, and the biggest skeptic of Kenta's plan. He was the last one to officially join the new team, but after seeing how passionate Kenta was, it made him start to believe that this crazy idea could really work.

Autumn Troupe: 🎤 Rock Band

Taichi Nanao --- James

• The battle of the bands is coming up soon, and James is ecstatic. It's always been his dream to take his garage band Static Shock to new heights. As the leader and drummer, he doesn't get as much spotlight, but that's alright with him. All he wants is to have fun making music with his best friends. But trouble starts brewing when the rival band in town scouts his lead singer, Tony. Will he and the rest of his crew be able to pull together and win the competition?

Banri Settsu --- Lenny

• Lenny steps in as lead singer after Tony leaves, but they are some big shoes to fill. He'd only done backup vocals until now, and he's struggling to balance playing guitar and delivering consistent vocals. He's worried he may have to give up guitar for the good of the team, but he's not giving up yet. Determined and fierce, Lenny is eager to make the most of the limelight now that it's on him.

Sakyo Furuichi --- Griffin

• Bassist of Static Shock. Griffin is laid back and positive. He's always offering food and drinks to the others, and breaking the tension with a joke or two. He was best friends with Tony before he left, and without Tony's serious attitude to balance him out, Griffin hasn't been taking this competition seriously enough. Now James is worried that Griffin may jump ship too, to stick with Tony...

Omi Fushimi --- Squash

• Squash is a man of few words. He plays the keyboard exceptionally well, because he's actually a classically trained pianist. But ever since his friends started Static Shock, he's had more fun playing simple chords for them than the accomplishment he feels from playing even the most intricate pieces of music. Though he doesn't say much, he's always there for his friends, offering a shoulder to cry or lean on. And when he does choose to speak, it's often to give incredibly good advice.

Juza Hyodo --- Tony

• Tony didn't want to turn on his friends, but the Zippers made him an offer he couldn't refuse. Actually getting paid to sing. Having a paid gig to put on his resume will put him one step closer to going pro. He tried to tell the others it was nothing personal, but he still feels bad about abandoning them.

Winter Troupe: 💥 Yandere

Tasuku Takato --- Daniel

• Daniel is a businessman, unassuming, and utterly alone. He's stressed and unsatisfied with his job, and is looking for a change. That's when he stumbles across a business card for "Silken Thread", a night club. Figuring he has nothing to lose, he visits the club that weekend, is able to relieve a little stress and get in a few drinks. Little does he know that his movements were being closely monitored by the club owners, who have found a new muse in Daniel. After he heads home, he expects his life to go back to normal... expect now it seems that he has four new secret stalkers- er, admirers.

Tsumugi Tsukioka --- William

William invades Daniel's workplace under the guise of a new intern. He's clumsy, but a hardworker, and very friendly. He wants to get closer to Daniel, and loves everything about him, his face, his body, his voice, his cute expression when he's confused or scared... but William would never hurt Daniel, and in fact protects him from others most of the time. Yandere level : 3/10.

Hisoka Mikage --- Timothy

• Timothy isn't as subtle as some of the others, and instead begins following Daniel. Daniel grows paranoid and eventually confronts him, but Timothy insists that he and Daniel are old friends, that they went to the same college campus, doesn't Daniel remember? Timothy seems harmless and friendly, but he slowly begins gaslighting and charming the people in Daniel's life, including his family, in the hopes of seamlessly becoming an important person to Daniel. Pretty soon, it'll be like he had been there from the start, just like it should be... Yandere level : 5/10

Homare Arisugawa --- Jeffrey

• Jefferey is a romantic. He starts sending Daniel love letters, handwritten. In his own blood. Isn't that the ultimate show of devotion? After Daniel changes addresses, he starts calling him on the phone, leaving cryptic voicemails and promises that soon they'll be together and nothing can tear them apart. Daniel tries to contact the police about it, but he's unaware that the voice he spoke to was actually Jeffrey once again. Daniel's so cute, thinking he can call anyone he wants to... Yandere level : 8/10

Azuma Yukishiro --- Charles

• Charles becomes Daniel's new therapist. Even tempered and soothing, he fits the roll so perfectly that no one would suspect the madness lingering just below the surface. Charles is singleminded with his infatuation of Daniel, and in his role of a therapist, he's able to learn all the details of Daniel's life, slowly twisting Daniel's memories and mindset to love Charles himself, and him alone. He may play nice on the outside with his fellow club owners, but Charles is not above killing to keep Daniel all to himself... Yandere level : 10/10.

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Please send in any questions you have for these characters today (6/2) and our actors will respond in character, as part of our 100 followers celebration! 🎉

#a3!#a3! ask blog #a3! memes #a3! crack #a3! headcanons #a3! aus

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blog-sliverofjade · 4 years

Text

Hearth Fires 6: Animals

Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC

Summary: Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas.

Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself.

While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.

Word count: 1691

Content warning: Racist cop

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Beta read by the matchless pandabearer

The officers eased up when they realized that Lorel was in 100% human form, which was a short and plump one, at that; someone had told her once that in her pretty dresses she looked about as dangerous as a cupcake. Appearances certainly were deceiving, after all, since she could probably do significant damage to the woman currently carrying on outside. While the thought was definitely tempting, she knew she wasn’t fast enough to get past four cops before they could take her down. That was her cat’s risk assessment, not hers. She was still frozen in shock.

Looking like they’d stepped into The Twilight Zone , they lowered their weapons. She felt the same way, her brain trying to wrap itself around the presence of Enforcement in her bakery for anything other than coffee and donuts.

One stepped forward to ask her some questions and she answered truthfully. The absurdity of the situation and their authoritative tone had her operating mostly on autopilot while she focused on keeping her ocelot under control. The cat bared its teeth at the intruders, wanting to drive them off its territory.

It quickly became obvious that the snotty woman had reported that Lorel had threatened and stalked her down the street. Naturally, she was more than happy to disabuse them of that falsehood.

“Would you like to see the camera footage?” she offered.

Three of the quartet followed her, the other went to question the other party. She only used the small office off the kitchen to meet customers with large custom designs like wedding cakes. Usually, she placed orders from her organizer while having tea or a bite to eat at one of the tables on the sidewalk out front, although that would probably change soon with the weather.

The portable device was perfectly capable of displaying the CCTV feed, but the screen in the back was larger. She slipped behind the desk and tried not to feel claustrophobic with the black-clad officers filling the rest of the tiny space between her and the door. Their scents filled the room, making it hard for her to breathe.

Lorel closed the sketches she’d been working on to bring up the video. There was no sound, but it was plain from their body language that the blonde was the aggressor. She’d been too shocked at the time to note the other woman’s belligerent stance and excessive gesticulations. As for herself, she looked like someone had smacked her across the face with a fish. She had only moved to grip the counter once the vile words had sunk in, trying to keep from leaping over the counter. Thankfully she never actually lunged for her throat.

The trio relaxed as they watched, alternately annoyed, exasperated, disgusted, and resigned. Not that much of their emotions showed on their faces; it was their scents that gave them away. A part of her brain filed that realization away to freak out over later.

Once the video caught up to when the cops entered, she hit pause. They asked more questions, most of which washed over her without fully registering in her mind. She was still reeling emotionally, and her cat was too on edge over the strange predators. A couple of lips pursed, and she thought she caught an eye roll when she got to the part that had been the last straw and she kicked the blonde out. Their obvious distaste at the false report had her cat easing down a bit, giving her room to breathe.

“Thank you, miss.”

Now that she was no longer fighting the all-encompassing urge to attack, she noted the name on his uniform. Sugiyama. They’d introduced themselves once they realized she wasn’t even armed with so much as a spatula, but she’d been too off-balance to absorb the information at the time.

“Maddox. Lorel Maddox.” They responded automatically to the ritual of etiquette when she offered a handshake. She smiled, careful to not flash any more teeth than absolutely necessary. While they appeared genial now, she still didn’t want to give them an excuse to think that she was threatening them in the enclosed space. Her cat didn’t like being crowded in there at all and she was afraid of how it’d react if subjected to any more stress. “Would ya’ll like a copy of the video?”

“No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Sugiyama, apparently the senior officer since he’d been doing most of the speaking, shook his head. “The sheriff will want to speak with you, though.”

Moving out of sheer habit, she escorted them to the front where she plied them with samples and coffee. Her hands shook as she went through the motions. She knew that not all such interactions between Changelings and Enforcement went so peacefully. Was that what she’d intended? She thought she was going to be sick.

Her cat wanted to hunt her down and rip her throat out.

Invisible bugs crawled across Remi’s skin. He flexed his foot a little harder on the pedal and the vehicle responded readily with a burst of speed that pressed him back against the seat. He could have set it to autopilot once he’d reached the highway, but the safety protocols would’ve kept him at the speed limit and he didn’t have time for that. The clock on the dash told him that he’d received Chloe’s call merely eleven minutes ago, yet it felt like hours.

They’d thus far managed to squeak by without any run-ins with Enforcement, and now he had to intervene on behalf of someone who wasn’t even a packmember yet. Local Enforcement was almost purely human, with the odd Psy here and there. Most of the Psy brass from the Council days had been cleaned out. Rainfire hadn’t had enough dominants, even if they’d been interested, to spare to the force since they were no longer barred from the ranks.

After the abuses of the Psy under Silence, the human-dominated city Enforcement distrusted anyone who wasn’t entirely human. The fall-out of this encounter could impact racial relations in the area for years to come and it all hinged on a stubborn, unpredictable ocelot.

He pulled to a stop in front of the hardware store in record time. Cop cars clogged up the parking spaces in front of the bakery and yarn shop across the street.

“Jack’s just started questioning her,” Chloe called with a grimace from the alcove of her doorway. The way she wrapped her rainbow-coloured shawl tightly around herself made it sound more nefarious than a simple interview.

He grunted and nodded in thanks. He’d met the human woman a few times at her husband’s hardware store, so she knew he wasn’t considered chatty even on his more gregarious days and wasn’t likely to take offense at his response. But he had to get verbal. Fast.

Keeping to an easy stride (running headlong was only something hot-headed dominant juveniles did, he reminded himself), he focused on the voices drifting out the open door. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so grateful for his acute hearing.

“I just want to know what the problem is.” Sheriff Shank somehow managed to sound both friendly and patronizing. The ears of Remi’s leopard went flat against its head and it curled its upper lip in a sneer.

“She used a slur so I asked her to leave.” Lorel was clearly becoming exasperated. No cat tolerated condescension for long. Unfortunately, there were cops forming a loose cordon in front to block his way and he was not in the mood to play at being non-threatening.

“And what slur was that?”

“Animal.”

Remi had to stop and make nice with the cops when all he wanted to do was burst in there and crack la crâne de cette bibette.

“Don’t you people use that word? Talk about yourselves as cats and dogs?” The derision in his voice had claws shoving at Remi’s fingertips. It took every ounce of willpower to keep them in as he made small talk with the guards, working his way around to getting their version of the story.

“Wolves, there are no dog Changelings.” The drinks and treats in their hands had his leopard snorting; she’d all but tried to throw him out on his ear when he’d dropped by and then turned on the Southern belle grace full force when Enforcement descended. He wondered if she knew that he was loathe to see her hurt or if she didn't recognize the lethal threat he posed.

“So, what’s the difference between ‘animal’ and a specific animal?”

“Context. She accused me of taking jobs from humans.” It was nice to hear that icy tone directed at someone else instead of at him.

“You specifically?”

“Well, no, she-”

“So you kicked her out for expressing an opinion? Did you know her husband lost his job to one of you? Ever since ya’ll moved in work’s been hard to come by.” That was a load of shit. Some people had their panties in a twist because the timber industry was banned from RainFire lands, while conveniently ignoring the benefits to local businesses

“That’s no reason to call Enforcement, I certainly didn’t threaten her!”

The officers- Sugiyama, Norton, and Carter- made it plain that nothing had happened and that the sheriff was “just finishing up” with Lorelei.

“Predatory Changelings like you can be pretty scary.” Shank drew “pretty” out into nearly four syllables. “You should just be glad she wasn’t carrying. This is a stand-your-ground state.” It was all he could do to keep his eyes from going cat at the subtle threat.

“You’re saying a woman can come into my shop, scream and insult me, then shoot me if I look at her funny and it’s legal?”

“Sure, if she’s scared for her life.”

“But I didn’t do anything, I only asked her to leave!” From the corner of his eye, he saw her throw her hands in the air.

“See, that’s the problem with you folks, you’re just too aggressive.”

“Oh, you think this is aggressive?”

And that was his cue to enter stage right.

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daeryons · 5 years

Text

the courts offer bread and salt to DAERYON TARGARYEN of HOUSE TARGARYEN. many say that the TWENTY-SEVEN year old KING of THE SOUTHERN KINGDOM is known to be RESILIENT and LOYAL though ill tongues whisper that HE is IMPULSIVE and UNBALANCED. when his name is uttered , one is reminded of a goblet on the brink of overflowing , the blinding glint of a crown & the unforgiving stare of a portrait gallery. may he be blessed and protected in this war of crowns. ( fc: jack lowden )

when daeryon targaryen was born , his father & the kingdom sighed of relief. the the legacy of aeron the just would be preserved and protected. his mother , however , was not so convinced. she looked at daeryon and saw a weak babe , who would grow into a weak child , a weak man , and die a weak king .

despite constantly being reminded of his destiny , daeryon gave little thought to being king. he endured the lessons his father gave him ( how to rule fairly , and how to rule well ) and ignored the subtle manipulations of his mother. how could he be a good king , he reasoned , if he did not yet know how to be a good person ?

and so , daeryon dedicated what little free time belonged to him to bettering himself. he read & studied the histories , worried about repeating them. and tried his best to exist amongst siblings that seemed so vastly different than himself.

due to his position , he was rather isolated growing up. he was meant to prepare for his future , and not build relationships in his present. his mother , queen aryiana’s rather polarizing influence effectively furthered this isolation , as she divided her children between those who were privy to her seemingly endless doting affection , and those who existed solely under her thumb, receiving the scraps that were left of motherly tenderness.

despite this , he found solace and strength in the presence of his elder sister ( the only among the clan that truly sought to know & understand him ) , his truest friend and confidante. he found another friend in the ward of the targaryen family , another who saw him for what he was , and made him braver than he thought he could be. he carried himself with more confidence bear the weight of the realm on his shoulders knowing that he had two friends to his name.

the kingdom watched him grow from a quiet , reserved boy into a kind and well - intentioned young man. they were hopeful , seeing in him the makings of a good king.

daeryon prioritized his kingdom , his crown. if anything , he would prove his mother wrong , and he would make daenys proud. he stood at his father’s right hand , assuming diplomatic duties that his father was tiring of. he took it in his stride

after a few years of this , king aeron believed it time that his son be married. the steadfast support of the rosby family and the crownlands to the crown seemed a beneficial enough match. the marriage itself started tenuously , daeryon constantly unsure of what his bride needed from him.

soon enough , though , the pair began to tear down whatever walls had been in place when he set his cloak on her shoulders. a true affection formed between them - a true understanding of each other. marbella made him far better than he could have ever dreamt to be on his own. they spent nearly two years of wedded bliss , removed from the crown that hung over his head .

the king’s death cut the threads of tranquility that daeryon had worked so hard to sew into his life , throwing him into the stress and burden of leadership . he displayed promise in the beginning, the transition of power being as smooth as it could have been. he ruled like his father had taught him to rule.

however , the death of aeron had also emboldened his wife. after a period of exaggerated mourning , the dowager queen’s manipulation was now illuminated in the foreground. no longer did she need to hide it between coos. instead , she undermined daeryon at every turn , insisted she be present at all small council meetings. she held daeryon in a vice grip , pulling strings and clutching the crown with everything she had .

the stress of his mother , the crown , the future shifted daeryon’s countenance. the level-headed king was fading , slowly being replaced by a man plagued with paranoia and unspeakable stress.

ariyana’s realms of control also extended to the new queen. she knew that marbella had a stronger , healthier hold on her son , making him more difficult to control. it was for this reason that she took overtures to attempt to plant doubt in daeryon’s mind. it was marbella that wanted power , it was marbella that wanted control - - and it was marbella that had yet to bear him a son. she suggested that their marriage be nullified , if not legally than practically. set her aside , his mother reasoned , keep her at a distance. daeryon did the opposite, and drew her closer. he listened to her suggestions , asked for her counsel.

following a threat to his wife’s life, daeryon exiled ariyana to genteel captivity , no longer capable of enduring her treason. while his reasons were justified ( at least in his eyes ), he had no intention of airing his grievances publicly or weakening himself by admitting that his mother had exerted such control over a sovereign leader. instead , the public saw yet another targaryen acting erratically , banishing a well-loved queen.

PRESENT : as his public image falters , so does daeryon’s leadership capabilities and general wellbeing. daeryon , traditionally prone to occasional emotional fits of some description ( something like a pendulum swinging between extreme highs and lows ) has begun to experience them far more frequently. exacerbated by stress , his emotions are constantly in flux. his decision making and clarity of mind is becoming poorer , and he wonders if it was not just the toil of a position thrust upon him , but rather the targaryen madness of his family line.

TIDBITS

he really is just a soft boy that has been dealt too much , tbh ?

daeryon feels things in extremes which really doesn’t help this whole leadership thing.

he knows that he isn’t a great king , but he is doing all that he can to try and get there. whether or not he’s doing an appropriate job or using appropriate means is ?? questionable. at this point , he feels as though he’s grasping at straws. but he has such good intentions.

he has the possibility for charisma and charm befitting a leader , it really just depends on what mood you catch him in.

genuinely will do anything to protect his wife & future children

daenys is his literal lifeline.

he truly doesn’t know how to manage his emotions or practice like ? rational self-talk.

he’s just trying . . . but it seems like everything he tries makes him look mad. so at this point he isn’t sure whether or not to lean into it or continue fighting it.

probably knows more about history than you . . . it’s all he ever read about.

#crowns.intro

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analphabete · 5 years

Text

"gentleman jack" and why it's actually a fantastic show

so, we're only three episodes in, but this show is actually incredibly well-written. i will give brief explanations as to why right now, for i truly recommend it to anyone, especially to us useless lesbians/bisexuals who find ourselves thirsty for some actual wlw content.

1.) as aforementioned just above, it has a genuinely good storyline for lesbians. it is so rare to see any shows that have good lesbian representation (beyond the characters being heavily sexualized or having one of them be murdered in less than four minutes), and it does really well in portraying a healthy relationship. they actually communicate, they try to know about each other, they respect one another's boundaries, they support one another emotionally, and it isn't rushed- they're reasonable in their expectations and desires and they respect one another if one of them says 'no' or 'stop'. their passion is believable and they have undeniable chemistry. their smiles seem so genuine and wholesome whenever they're together, and that makes me so happy.

2.) this is merely a bias that arises from my personal aesthetics, but the time period in which the story occurs just brings me joy. the transition from the regency to the victorian era (as it takes place in 1832) is such a lovely time frame. the scenery, the homes, the clothing...it's quite accurate and the cinematography, as well as the usage of light, just makes some scenes look so beautiful and well-structured. also, social issues of this time are ever present and it doesn't just ignore important facts/beliefs of the time in order to further a 'woke' narrative-i will address this more soon. once again, like the relationship, it is very believable and it really seems like an 1832 english setting. also, the way they speak and their general mannerisms is also pretty well-displayed. i like that.

3.) they show the hardships of not only living as a lesbian, but a woman, in the time period. they have distinct gender roles and assignments and any deviation is perceived as perversion. they even utilize the kind of slander they would've partook in: whispers. distrust. lack of direct eye contact. they can't prove anything, and it wasn't even criminalized. lesbianism was heavily looked down upon and they portrayed such issues accordingly. and, so were women who took on 'manly' jobs. i like these conflicts and i like their presentation in the show. it's subtle, but extremely heavy by means of content and it allows you to feel worried for the characters in question without them directly being faced with an external threat. it's good at drawing these emotions.

4.) characterization!! is!! beautiful!! ann lister is such a badass- a lesbian with viewpoints that could be found in 2019? intelligent, witty, and empathetical in nature? brave and determined with absolutely no tolerance for bullshit? yes!! ann walker is actually a sweetheart- another lesbian who doesn't erase her femininity? clever, kind, and wistful who is so persistent and unfrightened, even of things she doesn't understand?? yes!! and so many more characters with such rich lives, who manage to have so much presence. none of them bore me, and that makes me happy. they're all complex and have their flaws (like how ann lister seems like she's manipulating ann walker, or how john seems like he's rushing his marriage with eugénie, or how marian constantly seems stressed and/or envious of her sister), but i think that is vital for good characters. they're well-written and they have so much potential for growth!! i love that!!

and there's a lot more. i apologize if my explanations are inarticulate or hard to follow, i just decided to ramble a bit. i'd love to have further discussion. :)

#gentleman jack #hbo #ann lister #ann walker #marian lister #john booth #eugénie pierre #halifax #england #1800s #wlw #wlw positivity #lesbian #sapphic

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yconic · 5 years

Text

It's 2 am and wanted to write some multiverse stuff lol

Summary: Tony messed up something in the lab. The result is two versions of himself appearing in the middle of his kitchen. (I feel like I should mention, the two universes are pretty much made up and not Marvel canon)

"Why am I so short? Forgot to take my vitamins or something?" Stark from earth 8001 snorted and looked down at Tony as he took off his sunglasses, an amused smile playing on his face at Tony's scrunched up angry expression.

"Calm down short stuff, before your goatee catches on fire and you explode." That seemed to earn a ''Ha!'' From the Earth 2990 version of himself that just made Tony's list.

Although they were versions of himself, they didn't look identical like Tony. They were taller and a bit more muscular, one of them almost as tall as Steve, and their eyes were of electric blue instead of amber brown like his own.

"Am I always this annoying?" Tony huffed and turned to Stephen, who has been levitating in the common room for the past 10 minutes. The man ignored him.

"Yeah, pretty much," Rhodey said instead with a fond smile "but we don't mind it."

"Speak for yourself." Pepper playfully shoved him in the shoulder at that, and the two of them giggled on the couch like a pair of teenage girls.

"Uh, can you hear me from down there, or do I need to get a megaphone? You copy? Good. I'm not annoying, I'm charismatic, Tinkerbell. There's a difference. You're just mad you can't grasp it yet."

"There's also a line between being a jackass and a comedian, and you've crossed it since you arrived." Earth 2990 said with a be amused chuckle, typing something on his watch. At the frustrated sigh, the other man (the other him?) Let out, Tony guessed the job wasn't doing it for him. "Me. We. You, whatever. I can't get this thing to work. You had any luck?"

"Tsk." Stark shook his head " Thought it makes sense. Communication Networks must be different in every universe and their signal must be jacked because of the time and location difference. There could be a possibility that the phone numbers or communication links we're trying to access got...messed up in a way.

Like, maybe now that we're in this universe, we're a part of it and everything that tied us to our world can't be accessed anymore?"

"Yeah, that seems right," Earth 2990 nodded, and Tony decided that he'll have to find names for him too. "but how do we find a way to communicate with the people in our world?"

"Maybe we can create a communication link of our own." Tony jumped in the conversation " a common network if you will. Also, you're Stark," he annoiunced, pointitng at the taller alter, then at the orher one who shyly stayed back and played with his fingers. "And you're gonna be Anthony. I'm copyrighting Tony."

"Huh, so I'm not a complete idiot in this world, that's good to know," Stark muttered and started looking for something in the kitchen. "Jesus, where's the alcohol in this place?" He muttered.

"You ain't gonna find any," Friday's voice rang in the room "Boss quit last year." Something like pride hugged her robotic voice as she informed them. Tony probably shouldn't have taken that to heart too much, but he did.

"Um," Stark's eyes were narrowed and his lips were in a thin line before answer "you're not Jarvis. Where's Jarvis? "

The room seemed to freeze as Tony's face became steely as he answered stiffly " Gone."

It was a moment of silence for the three Starks in the room, a moment of understanding and shared pained over the same loyal butler they all lost before and once again in this life.

"...Well, I can't work till I don't drink at least 10 cups of whiskey, and Rhodey's not here on my ass so I don't know about you two, but I'm having my drinking party in the lab. Friday, order some whiskey."

"How much, sir?"

" Uhh, 'till it's enough to fill a small pub, preferably." He then turned to Tony "You know what you need? A meeting with your old friend, Mr. Whiskey and Mrs. Vodka. I'm sure they miss you."

Despite Tony's mouth suddenly going dry, desperate for the hot liquid that once made a home in his belly to burn his neck again, he shook his head and licked his lips, crossing his arms over his chest "I promised some friends that I wouldn't."

"Who?" Stark asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Friends? Buddies? Pals You don't have that in your world?"

" Not that I know of. " Stark shrugged and turned to 2990 "How about you? Wanna come with me? It'll be the night of your life."

"First of all, that sounded like a sex proposition, which, ew. You're technically me, and I may be a narcissist, but this takes the phrase of 'loving myself ' to a whole different level," 2990 cringed. "and second of all, I'll pass. Promised my Rhodey I wouldn't drink."

Stark sighed and looked down "Yeah. Me too." His fingers tapped on the bottom of the counter. Tony observed how his breathing quickened a bit and how his eyes wandered around aimlessly. It was subtle, but noticeable, because Tony could see his old self who freshly gave up drinking in him.

Anxious, stress filled, trying not to breakdown on the spot. It was easy to pinpoint what you've lived. Tony opened his mouth, ready to reassure him, but Stark's finger snapping interrupted him.

"Okay, no drinking. Yet. What other unhealthy coping mechanism beside living in the bottle until we have to be a big boys and get over ourselves do we have, hm? Beating up an innocent boxing bag? Work 'till we drop dead? Throw a party? Prank call NASA?"

Tony had to frown. "Pranking NASA isn't an unhealthy coping mechanism."

"Everything's an unhealthy coping mechanism if you're fucked up enough. And yeah It is, if you do it long enough you forget how the sun looks," Stark nodded. " let's just say I've lived through some pretty dark times."

As deranged as he looked, Anthony chose not to tell Stark of how bad that sounded. Mostly because he knew the other him was aware. Instead, he suggested: "Well, I mean, baking and knitting usually help me get over stress. They're really fun! Happy's mom actually took me to one of her yoga classes last week, so maybe--"

"As awesome as my ass looks in yoga pants, I'm not doing any of that," Stark interrupted crudly. He stole the coffee Tony was holding from his hand and walked towards the lab with a confident step, as though he owned the place.

"-- I'm gonna inspect the lab to see at what level of shitty you are when it comes to handling it. I swear there better be a mountain of pizza boxes and puddles of Dum-E's smoothies on the floor or me and my buddy Sledgehammer are gonna have words with that room."

"I haven't cleaned that place in months, so that's exactly what you're gonna find."

"Finally, something about this universe that makes sense!"

Anthony and Tony exchanged already tired looks as they followed their disaster of an alter to make sure the tower would still stand by down.

"You think he's just gonna start blowing shit now, or after dinner?"

A loud explosion sound could be heard, followed by a 'That computer was ugly anyway!'

"Now is a good guess. Bet 20 $ we're gonna have a party by tonight."

"Make it 30. Have you seen us? Yikes." They shared a chuckle, walking into the lab. Their staying will sure be interesting.

33 notes · View notes

kaistarus · 5 years

Text

Clickbait: Chapter 3

Summary: A lot of great things came with being a big name YouTuber, but along with those perks were some serious drawbacks. One of the biggest being your lack of personal privacy. Due to just one video, Kirishima's least well-kept secret has become a viral sensation overnight, and now he has to deal with the repercussions from both the YouTube community and the public. Hopefully, those he's dragging down with him won't mind...

Words: 4,418

Pairings: kiribaku, tododeku

First Chapter Here

“Oh, stop that.” Mina shooed his hands from his shirt, undoing the top button he’d been fiddling with since they’d left the apartment. “I spent money on this. Don’t wreck it before we even get there.”

“I still think I should’ve—”

“If you even mention that lime-green pineapple monstrosity I’ll have this Uber turn around.” Mina threatened with playful eyes.

Kirishima pouted. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mina’s fashion choices—charcoal did bring out his eyes—he just missed the familiarity of his statement pieces. He knew there was nothing wrong with dressing to impress on occasion, but too much effort made him nervous. At least his hair was still bright-red and spiked to perfection—a true Kirishima statement piece.

“I think you look beautiful in everything you wear.” Kaminari gave a thumbs up from the passenger seat.

“Instigator.” Mina huffed.

Kirishima let his head roll against the window in disdain, watching his breath fog the glass, cold from the car speeding through a Spring’s night. He focused on how the window shook against his temple, tuning out the sound of Kaminari dragging their Uber driver into a nonsense conversation. To be fair, the driver had asked about their week out of polite obligation, so he felt worse for himself at being subjected to Kaminari’s theory of ghost squirrels for the third time that week.

Around them the city was bustling. Cars and stoplights, venues and nightclubs, enormous advertisements; they lit up Los Angeles like every star it stole from the night sky. They passed misfits in street bands using dirty buckets and cheap guitars, strangers selling illegal products to oblivious tourists, and others promising talents that almost always fell short. After a few years here Kirishima had learned the area and discovered the patterns, but it’s diversity always brought a mystery he could never solve. The chaos that kept it alive and him with it.

It was a far cry from the town he and Mina had grown up in.

“We’re here.”

He hadn’t noticed the Uber driver pull over until Mina had him halfway out the car. They were dropped off in front of a five-story red bricked apartment complex that looked nothing like where Kirishima imagined Bakugou living. The plain exterior didn’t match his flashy, overly confident attitude in the slightest. “I’ll message Uraraka to let us in,” Kirishima said when they reached the vestibule.

“It’s like we’re back in college, eh?” Kaminari nudged him. “Waiting to get buzzed into a party?”

“Kirishima the only reason you’re getting into a party?” Sero smirked. “Yep, you’re definitely back in college.”

“He isn’t listed on here.” Mina interrupted. She was pointing to a list hung by the keypad, filled with names and apartment numbers.

“He probably doesn’t want followers randomly popping in.” Kirishima shrugged.

“Or maybe he doesn’t want the cops to find him.” Kaminari opened the main door when a buzz surrounded them.

“You better not say things like that when we get up there.”

“People need to know Kirishima,” Kaminari rolled his eyes at Kirishima’s stern glare. “Kidding. I’ll be a good boy.”

“What was the apartment number?” Sero asked as they entered the elevator.

Kirishima opened the messages from Uraraka and hesitated. “Uh… 420?”

Sero shook his head before pressing the button to the fourth floor.

“Look, man.” Kaminari placed a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder. “If this all ends up being a prank, I’m willing to fight a girl.”

“She’d kick your ass.” Sero snorted.

Kirishima quickly learned that although the building seemed simple—gray carpets, tan walls, no pictures or art—it was impossible to navigate. It took them nearly fifteen minutes to work through the winding halls—door numbers following no obvious order—before they finally arrived at apartment 420. And after the senseless excursion, Kirishima experienced he changed his mind; it was exactly the kind of place he pictured Bakugou living in.

The faint bass thumping passed the apartment door’s false wood shook the surrounding hall. Kirishima hesitated briefly before knocking, irritation from the senseless journey overpowering his previous nerves. The host's response time was quicker than he was expecting.

“Kirishima!” A short girl, soft edges and wide smile, pulled him into a tight hug—hold strong for someone her size. “I’m so glad you all actually came!”

“Yeah. Well, you know. I’m a fan of them. And you. A normal fan. Not a weird one”

Uraraka smiled, a knowing look in her eyes that made Kirishima uneasy.

“At least one of us is normal!” Mina linked their arms together. “I’m a huge fan of yours. Honestly, the main reason we’re here is that I’m like, obsessed.”

Mina gave Kirishima a subtle wink. She had promised him that she’d start paying off her debt tonight. She’d be anything he needed: wingwoman, distraction, comic relief, he names it and she’d play it. Obviously, he wouldn’t do that to her, but that wouldn’t stop her from following him around and doing it anyway.

“Wha—really?” Uraraka’s cheeks turned pink—pinker.

Mina grabbed Uraraka’s hands. “I binged you in one night. You’re amazing.”

“But you—I don’t—you’re so much more popular than me.”

“Like that matters. People are sleeping on you, girl.”

Kirishima wondered if Mina knew she could have the world wrapped around her well-manicured finger.

“Holy shit,” Kaminari swatted Kirishima’s arm. “Is that Earphone Jack?”

Several meters behind Uraraka was a girl decked out in rocker apparel, signature skull headphones hanging off her shoulders, leaning casually against a black leather couch. Definitely Earphone Jack. She was talking to someone else; a girl with long black hair dressed more readily for a wedding than a casual get-together. She seemed familiar—YouTuber?

“Good luck getting your man.” Kaminari gave a salute then beelined towards them.

Sero sighed. “I’ll try to keep him in check.” As he walked off, he called over his shoulder. “Try.”

Well, there’s a stress-factor he hadn’t considered.

“Oh!” Uraraka pulled away from Mina. “I should show you guys around.”

Kirishima could mingle himself, but it was probably better to meet through Uraraka considering his circumstances. Not that he had a choice since Uraraka was dragging him by the cuff of his sleeve before he could reply—Mina practically skipping behind him.

The apartment was decently sized—two-bedroom with a balcony—but the number of people made it feel smaller. He was impressed by how many of those people Uraraka speed dated them through on their short walk to the kitchen. He met at least twelve new people, and in the whirlwind could only remember half their names. Surprisingly, nobody brought up the video—except one girl, Camie, but it was more harmless teasing than anything malicious. Everyone was awesome and he wanted to befriend them all, but Uraraka had an agenda. Which wasn’t met until they finally reached the kitchen’s border.

“Todoroki!” Uraraka flailed her arms above her head. Eventually catching the attention of a boy with a botched dye-job and mismatched eyes—contacts probably. He emerged with a red cup in hand and a bored expression, giving the impression that whatever Uraraka wanted from him was already a waste of the guy’s time. Uraraka didn’t seem to feel this way because her attitude didn’t falter in the slightest.

“This is Mina.” She gestured towards Mina who waved, “and this,” she said with an emphasis Kirishima didn’t appreciate. “is Kirishima.”

Todoroki blinked once, twice. Unimpressed. Uraraka kept her smile wide, patient. Then she gestured towards Kirishima once more, this time she tugged once on her hair. Todoroki’s eyes widened briefly, and he nodded in understanding.

“Shitty Hair,” he said, monotone. “I’ve heard of you.”

Kirishima heard Mina snort beside him and he mouthed the name to himself. That was a little rude for a first greeting.

“Todoroki!” Uraraka swatted him.

“But isn’t that—”

“Sorry about him.” Uraraka waved him off and he narrowed his eyes, grumbling something into his cup. “This social butterfly here is Todoroki. He’s the Mystery Unsolved’s main editor. He’s also Bakugou’s roommate.”

Kirishima’s face heated up. If there was one person who knew the situation it’d be Bakugou’s roommate. Although this Todoroki guy looked like he could care less about anything and everything, especially Kirishima.

He wasn’t sure if that made him more nervous or less.

“Todoroki is the reason we’re able to have this surprise party.” Uraraka elbowed Todoroki’s side.

“As long as Bakugou knows it wasn’t by choice.”

“We all know you’d face Bakugou’s wrath if it meant seeing Deku happy.” Uraraka elbowed him excessively. Kirishima swore his cheeks brightened, but it was hard to tell with the dim lighting.

“How are you planning on surprising them?” Mina asked.

“Deku and Bakugou are out late researching some stuff for their next video. I told Deku he needs to come here to walk me home.” Uraraka pumped her fist. “Bakugou was pissed, but that’s normal.”

Kirishima raised a brow. Pissing off a man of honor before filling their house with people seemed like a terrible idea.

“Like I said,” Todoroki observed the rest of the party goers, “as long as he knows I had nothing to do with it.”

“Why didn’t you have the party somewhere else?” Kirishima asked.

“Bakugou is too perceptive for his own good,” Uraraka rolled her eyes. “To be honest, he likely already knows what we’re doing right now. He’s probably just humoring us, that asshole.”

“As long as he knows—”

A short jingle sounded from Uraraka’s pocket and her hands moved like lightning to get it out.

“They’re on their way!” She shook Todoroki’s shoulder. “It’s Deku. He says they’re on their way!”

She disappeared into the crowd, reemerging above everyone at the center of the room, assumingly standing on furniture. After garnering attention, she announced the ‘guests of honor’s’ arrival—odd word choice considering the apartment—and demanded quiet. The tall guy with the glasses he’d met earlier turned off the music while others huddled into respective groups. Any nerves he’d managed to bottle up came bursting back with a vengeance.

“Hey,” Todoroki made him jump. He had assumed the guy would’ve walked off by now. “I saw your video.”

“Oh… yeah?”

Todoroki didn’t respond. He remained as stoic as ever, but as the guy turned away Kirishima caught an icy glare.

“He hates me.”

“No,” Mina brushed off. “He just has that face.”

Kirishima shook his head. “No.” That guy hated him, which probably meant Bakugou hated him. He gulped.

The mixture of giggling and shushing sent jitters like electricity throughout the room. Mina squeezed his shaky hand and whispered into his ear, “ready?”

He nodded, but when keys jingling made someone squeal, he debated running. The door creaking and people shouting ‘surprise’ were the last things his brain took in before he briefly malfunctioned. Bakugou had pushed open the door, standing in the frame with those fierce crimson eyes and soft bone structure, he was a perfect contradiction. Somehow, he was even more attractive in person.

He was also shorter than Kirishima imagined.

And a lot louder.

“What the actual fuck round face!” Bakugou’s voice reached above the combined cheering. Beside Bakugou, Midoriya’s lower lip started to quiver.

This apparently was the expected response because even though Bakugou’s screaming could currently rival LA traffic Uraraka was closing in for a hug. Midoriya started busting out some serious waterworks, but Todoroki surprised Kirishima by giving Midoriya a comforting hug; even allowing him to snot on his shirt. It was an amusing display, and Kirishima briefly wondered if his friends looked this confusing to outsiders.

He’d been so lost in the scene he hadn’t realized Bakugou was staring at him until he was consumed by the fiery gaze, completely frozen in place. This was it, he thought, the moment of truth.

He didn’t know how to react when Bakugou turned away, lecturing Midoriya about being a ‘little bitch’. It was as if Bakugou had looked right through him.

“He really is just like they say, huh?” Mina laughed.

“They both are.”

“You okay?” Mina raised a brow.

“Yeah,” Kirishima half-smiled. “I think I need some fresh air.”

Mina looked skeptical but let him leave. Kirishima went to the balcony, assuming people would give congratulations for a while. He sat down and let his legs hang off the balcony, the bars close enough together that he could lean against them without fear. From there he could take in Los Angeles’ lights, and listen to the cacophony of poor driving and the occasional drunk from below.

He wasn’t disappointed Bakugou hadn’t made a scene. That combined with everyone else’s reaction showed him he’d been blowing this controversy out of proportion. He should’ve known a group of YouTubers would understand the situation—treat it maturely. If a part of him had fallen prey to Mina’s romcom ideas that was his own fault. Thinking Bakugou would’ve acknowledged him in the slightest was high hopes where Kirishima was concerned. Even with the entire internet throwing a spotlight his way he still couldn’t make an impression. He was still that same nobody from before the vlogs.

He could never escape his past.

The balcony door slid open. He hadn’t known how long he’d been stewing in his misery, but he knew Mina was probably watching the clock. He was ready to be dragged inside. There were people he wanted to talk to aside from Bakugou and he shouldn’t let his own worthlessness ruin Bakugou and Midoriya’s night.

“What the fuck are you doing out here alone?”

Kirishima’s grip on the bar tightened. He knew that voice, and it definitely wasn’t Mina. Knowing that he still wasn’t prepared to see Bakugou; eyebrow raised, and hands hung loosely in his hoodie pocket. Kirishima turned back around slowly—he couldn’t talk making eye contact.

“Could ask you the same thing.” Kirishima tried to sound cool, but he felt like an idiot. His face was warm.

Bakugou scoffed. “Too many fucking people. Needed some air.” He moved next to Kirishima and leaned against the balcony, looking out at the cityscape.

Kirishima nodded. “Same.” He extended the word awkwardly. He wanted to die. Kirishima fleetingly wished that Bakugou was acting peaceful and would surprise throw him off the ledge.

“Round Face invite you?”

Kirishima remembered him screaming that at Uraraka earlier. “Yeah…”

“Of course, she did,” then under his breath. “That meddling bitch.”

Kirishima found it odd he’d be calling his friend bitch, but he didn’t comment. “You’re not like… mad?”

“Why the fuck would I be mad?”

“Because…” Kirishima raised an eyebrow and looked at Bakugou. “The video?”

“Oh.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck. Your friend posted a video with a bunch of out of context shit for views. It’s not your fault the internet is fucking crazy.”

Kirishima stared at his shoes. “Out of context…” His eyes widened. “Out of context! Yeah! I’m so glad you understand, man. I thought it was gonna be impossible, almost unbelievable even.” He laughed a little too long. Bakugou narrowed his eyes.

“Right…”

“Yep,” he popped the ‘p’, leaning his head against a bar. “Anyway, I’m sorry for all the attention and rumors and memes… you know.”

“It’s whatever.” Bakugou leaned his chin onto his crossed arms. “I feel fucking sorry for you. You’ve got all the fanboys and fangirls. They’ve gotta be giving you shit.”

“Giving me shit?”

“Yeah,” Bakugou’s arms shot forward. “Cause like, you’re all peppy and social and nice and crushing on the anger management asshole? That can’t be good for your image.”

Kirishima snorted. He can’t believe that was something that crossed Bakugou’s mind. His heart felt like it was his entire chest.

“Peppy and social and nice?” Kirishima snorted. “That’s what you think I am?”

“Fuck off.”

“Well, maybe I am on camera.” Kirishima shook his head. “And trust me. My fans are very supportive of me. If you had a Twitter you’d get to see all the fan art I’ve gotten sent my way.”

“Oh? Well, if it has me in it. I’m sure it’s fucking fantastic.”

“It’s definitely… imaginative.”

Bakugou huffed out something akin to a laugh. Kirishima felt so soft. He couldn’t believe this was happening when just moments ago he was putting himself down. Bakugou was being so calm too; a complete flip from when he’d first arrived at the party.

“I’m going back inside. It’s fucking cold.” Bakugou pushed back from the railing. “You coming?”

Kirishima nodded. “Yeah, there are some people I need to—”

The balcony door slid open and Sero poked his head out.

“Hey, man. We should head out. That new BlackPink song came on and Uraraka started dancing on the coffee table. Denki’s drunk ass thought he could impress everyone by joining in, but now he’s on the floor and making a scene,” he seemed to finally process who was standing next to Kirishima. “Uh, sorry about the carpet.” Then he slammed the balcony door closed.

Kirishima should’ve known that the true disaster tonight would be Kaminari.

“Who the hell is Denki?”

“Uh, Kaminari? Blonde?” Kirishima shrugged. “You haven’t really seen my videos so—”

“Sparky?” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Of course, that fucker would do some stupid drunk shit.”

Kirishima mouthed the odd nickname. What was up with those tonight?

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fucking whatever. It was probably half Round Face’s fault. It’s usually her fucking the place up.” Bakugou sneered. “I’ll fucking kill her for it later.”

‘Murderer’ echoed in his mind in Kaminari’s voice, but he quickly shook it out.

“Right,” Kirishima looked to the door. “I should probably go collect my idiot. Congratulations, by the way.”

Bakugou waved him off. Their conversation wasn’t much, but Kirishima was on cloud nine when he reentered the apartment. Kaminari was easy to find, a small crowd gathered around him as he cried gibberish between sniffles. He clung to Mina’s hands while Uraraka apologized profusely to Sero.

“What happened to being a good boy?” Kirishima said kneeling beside him.

“It was Kill This Love, Ei. It would have been disrespectful if I hadn’t danced.” He cleared snot with his sleeve and Mina gagged, trying to free her hands. Kaminari clung tighter. Kirishima sighed, picking Kaminari up bridal style. In his peripheral, he saw Midoriya and Todoroki watching the scene unfold. Amongst the chaos, he’d temporarily forgotten Midoriya, one of the people he’d wanted to talk to most. Now that he learned where he stood with Bakugou he felt a lot more confident going over there with Kaminari groaning in his arms.

“Hey,” He cut in. “I’m Kirishima. I’m a really big fan of your videos.”

Midoriya smiled and Kirishima went momentarily blind. “Thank you! I’m a fan of your vlogs too. I’ve been watching them for a long time.”

Kirishima’s mouth fell open. No matter how many people told him they watched his videos he still couldn’t fathom it. The numbers never seemed real. He especially couldn’t process when people he admired thought he was worth watching.

“That’s incredible,” he struggled to find the right words. “Thank you so much I—"

“Ei, I’m tired.” Kaminari moaned.

Kirishima rolled his eyes. “Sorry about our child. We should’ve kept a better eye on him.”

“It’s okay. If it wasn’t him it probably would’ve been Uraraka.”

A ‘hey’ was shouted behind him and Kirishima laughed.

“That’s what Bakugou said, too.”

Midoriya looked surprised and Uraraka busted into their conversation. “You were talking to Bakugou? When? Where?”

Kirishima nodded towards the balcony. “A few minutes—”

Uraraka stomped off before he could finish. He heard a few curses mumbled under her breath and Kirishima was finally understanding how she and Bakugou meshed so well.

“Don’t worry about her,” Midoriya said. “She’s just… passionate.”

Kirishima smiled like he understood what that meant. The others started calling him front the front door and he frowned. He wouldn’t say his time with Bakugou a waste, but he wished he’d gotten more time with everyone else here as well.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see you around,” Midoriya said with a reassuring smile.

Kirishima wanted to believe him.

The elevator ride down was quiet aside from Kaminari’s obnoxious drunken breathing. Kirishima still wasn’t sure if tonight actually happened, or if he’d wake up tomorrow having it all been a crazy fever dream. Both options seemed equally plausible now that he was given time to process.

“The Uber will be here in five minutes,” Mina said as they exited the apartment complex. The temperature had dropped, a light breeze carried a new chill to the air. They huddled together on the curb while waiting for their ride, basking in each other’s warmth. Kaminari blanketed himself across their laps while Mina leaned heavily against Kirishima’s side, his arm wrapped snug around her. Sero opted to lye flat against the rough concrete, bones aching from exhaustion.

“I talked to Bakugou.” Kirishima’s voice cut through the silence. It wasn’t information they hadn’t known, but more a signal he was ready to talk about it.

Mina shuffled against him. “Good talk?”

“I think so,” Kirishima looked up at the few stars that fought against Los Angeles’ unforgiving lights; a humored smirk on his face. “He thinks the videos were out of context.”

Sero sat abruptly. “How.”

“I wasn’t going to debate it. I just took that miracle for what it was.” Kirishima shrugged, watching Mina play methodically with Kaminari’s hair. “Then we talked, and it was good.”

“You’re so cute.” Mina smiled.

“I mean,” Sero laid back down. “If he’s that dumb. You may be able to woo him just yet.”

Kirishima snorted and allowed the comfortable silence to befall them again, this time following them back until they struggled to get Kaminari ready for and in his bed. The emotional exhaustion that caught up to them was bone deep and aching, it left them crawling to their beds—Mina to the living room couch. Kirishima slept heavily, pitch-black fatigue that left no room for dreaming, only in the early hours did he catch a crimson stare chasing him into reality, invading his mind while on the cusp of consciousness. His brain was too muddled to comprehend it and it had fled his mind as soon as it’d come.

A kitchen melody of pans clanking and cupboards slamming told him somebody was already awake. The thick scent of fried meat wafting under his door had him throwing on the first sweats he saw and running out of his room. Sero was standing over a pan of bacon that sizzled and popped at the press of his spatula; the pan beside it warming up thick pancake batter. Kirishima’s stomach growled. He should’ve known it was Sero, nobody else could cook.

Mina was already eating at the kitchen island—showered, dressed, more put together then Kirishima could dream of—and was typing away on her sticker-covered pink laptop. It reminded Kirishima he was supposed to upload today, but he still had absolutely nothing planned. Mina gave him a quick smile and he decided he’d worry about that later. He had never missed an upload, so he’d figure it out one way or another.

He grabbed his favorite Crimson Riot plate from the cabinets—only for special occasions—and piled it with pancakes and bacon. Then he drenched them in a sea of syrup until he could barely tell there was food to begin with.

“Your sweet tooth is disturbing, Ei.”

“Everyone knows pancakes are just an excuse to eat syrup,” he said, taking the stool next to her. “Honestly, if you can even taste the pancakes, you’re doing it wrong.”

Mina gestured to his plate. “Good mood?”

“You know it.” He said through a mouthful of syrup. “Whatcha typing?”

Mina scrunched her nose at him. “Video ideas. I actually have a surprise.”

“Cause that usually works out for you.” Sero quipped.

“You shush,” Mina puffed up her cheeks. “I invited Uraraka over to collab with us.”

“What?” Kirishima leaned over excitedly. “That’s awesome!”

“Stop yelling!” Kaminari shouted from his room, muffled by walls. Kirishima rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t falter.

“Yeah,” Mina smiled. “We talked about it yesterday. She’s getting busy with her channel because it’s comeback season soon, but she was free today.”

“Comeback season?” Sero asked.

“K-pop!” Kaminari shouted. “New music!”

“Get your lazy ass out here!” Mina called, getting an excessive high-pitched whine in response.

Kirishima was hyped. They’d never collabed with anyone outside the squad, so this would be huge for their channels. He was also just excited to spend time with Uraraka because based on yesterday he’d been correct assuming they’d all get along.

Now that he was thinking about last night…

“Hey,” Kirishima tapped his plate nonchalantly, “do you know why someone might call Kaminari ‘Sparky’?”

Sero snorted. “Probably because he static shocks everything he touches.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow and on cue Kaminari stumbled into the kitchen. Cradling his head, he moved towards the sink, slumping forwards onto the counter he fumbled for the faucet. When he made contact a quick shock was heard and he pulled back with a hiss.

“Why does that always happen to me?” Kaminari cried, sliding down to the floor.

“That’s an old gag though.” Mina pointed out. “Like, wasn’t that Kaminari’s first meme?”

“Yeah, I’ve grown,” Kaminari called, lying flat on the floor. “Hey, if I just drink the bowl of pancake batter will it be the same as drinking water and eating pancakes?”

Sero kicked him. “Stop.” Then he turned to Kirishima. “Why? Who said that?”

Kirishima stared off into the distance. It was like he had all the pieces to a complex, funny looking puzzle, but he just wasn’t quite smart enough to solve it.

“Uh…” Their doorbell rang and he hopped off the stool. A perfect distraction. “I got it!”

Kirishima was so excited he didn’t even care that he hadn’t done his hair yet. Uraraka didn’t seem like someone who’d care about their appearances—at least he hoped not, Kaminari was hungover and whining in the middle of their kitchen.

“Hey, Urara… ka…” Kirishima had torn the door open with a huge smile that’d slowly fallen off his face. His eyes landed on the small girl he’d been expecting, all smiles and waving excitedly up at him. Then they landed on the guy slouching next to her. Kirishima had known who it was when the spiky ash-blonde hit his peripherals.

His fight or flight activated.

Uraraka raised an eyebrow. “Um… Kiri—”

He closed the door.

#kiribaku #tododeku #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #bakusqaud #uraraka ochako #mina ashido #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #i'm finally back people #the update is here #youtube au #kiribaku fanfics #fanfiction #read my shit #kaminari denki #sero hanta

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sasorikigai · 5 years

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For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses. || @sonxflight || accepting

'Canon’

⭐️To Hanzo, Jack becomes that very one that warms his heart and soul, and he also likes to gaze into his lover’s eyes, because in general, the depth of his remarkable eyes become Hanzo’s happy place. Jack serves as the protector of his heart, ribcage, and most importantly, their banters become his sweet escape that fuels his energy as their mutual playfulness becomes his body’s safe. It has been really difficult for him to open and lighten himself up (despite him capable of spilling emotions, but he literally does that with everyone even when he doesn’t want to divulge them). It’s a sensation words can’t explain,

⭐️Hanzo’s most favorite way to spend intimate time always has to involve the night’s velvety tapestry, caressing, unfolding a core of softness as they partake in philia (love of the mind; sincere and platonic love) and pragma (long-standing love; commitment and compromise) love. Most often, what they consider ‘lovemaking’ doesn’t always involve carnal sexual love (although they may pleasure each other languidly as they talk; it’s either deeply philosophical or Hanzo being borderline impertinent).

⭐️Hand-holding for them is extremely prominent in their relationship; PDA used to be not entirely welcomed, especially when they are in the Shirai Ryu Compounds (as Hanzo is the Grandmaster and he has this utmost need to show the most disciplined and best self as he would do his best to hide their relationship at the beginning), but it’s Jack who beguiles him to display more PDA. Hanzo is meant to be happy, especially after the gruesome death of his family that has turned the course of his life (and death) around. Carpe Diem, Grandmaster.

⭐️When Hanzo cooks Jack for the first time, Jack did not know if the dish contained chicken (it didn’t look like it and he was absolutely starving.....), and when Hanzo reveals it later after they finish the meal, it’s then Jack informs his lover of the story when he got turned into a rooster and having to fight in a cockfighting.

⭐️When Hanzo almost dies due to the poisoning of his blood (imagine him dying in a similar way of his MK11 death), Jack slits and opens his vein up for Hanzo to inherit the immortality of his own blood and life in excruciating torment. Since then, they live and love with their mutual desire to rush headlong at breakneck speeds into each other’s arms and they sacrifice and go through their respective pain and suffering willingly, knowing that their ageless forms would never age.

Modern AU

⭐️At first, they absolutely abhorred each other and only acted out of their impeccable professionalisms. Hanzo’s high-risk, high-rewarding job landed him enough in Jack’s personal clinic and Jack is extremely sympathetic and altruistic, regardless of how low he thought of Hanzo for mostly his hot-temperedness and impulsiveness. One day, everything changes when Hanzo is there at the most opportune times in one of the shootouts and Jack had been one of the civilians held up in a hostage. It was Hanzo who made the call to infiltrate, instead of waiting out until one of the terrorists detonated the bomb strapped on one of the hostages’ chest (luckily, he managed to survive as well), saving numerous lives, including Jack.

⭐️They both are too deep in the mood of wintry isolation and depression (they are exceptionally lonely beings, despite having earned high regard and esteem for their capability and talent), and once everything clicks for them, they become the closest friends, then soon lovers.

⭐️Hanzo is extremely protective of Jack, so he has a tendency to storm into his office, unannounced at times; mostly during his lunch hours and after his ‘shift.’

⭐️Despite Jack’s subtle decline (at first), Hanzo likes to drag Jack to many excursions around the city - mostly rural and unexplored areas away from the metropolitan city - on his crotch rocket. It’s his way of showing the glimpse of his psyche, and opening himself up, as the repressed traumas still bombarding him not only through his nightmares, but as he daydreams as well.

⭐️Jack gets exceedingly worried when one of Hanzo’s colleagues call him from the precinct he works at that Hanzo suddenly collapsed. Syncopal episodes such as this caused by extreme stress and exhaustion is frequent for him, and besides the fact that he has tendency to do it, there’s no underlying medical condition that could prove the reason why. Hanzo’s fainting can also result from an emotional response to a very difficult situation, such as intense pain, low blood sugar, or a change in blood volume may also cause syncope.

#✗ obsessive cathartic (headcanon)#✗ the ineffable testimony of spawned hellfire (scorpion)#✗ seeking reconciliation with his own humanity (iii)#✗ ugly syllables of conjured vindictive crimson (modern au)#(relationships; samurai jack)#sonxflight

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chibimyumi · 6 years

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In the Shadows of the Spotlights – Kuromyu 2015

First of all, thank you, @rmglawliet for your interest and prompt for analyses. Thank you @lambsthroat, @inarislair and @downthebitterrabbithole for your interest and compliments. As my blog is dedicated to only Furukawa-era Kuromyus, I shall start with the first Yunbastian musical: The Lycoris that Blazes the Earth 2015

Details in the Shadows of the Spotlights

The main differences between the manga and the musical are brought by the result of different possibilities that come with different media type.

Unlike in manga, stage portrayals allow for what can be called a simultaneous panelling. With manga, as pages and panels are limited in both size and number, a mangaka must often choose to sacrifice certain things for the sake of aesthetics. Just imagine every single panel to be drawn in panorama featuring every single character’s reaction just because the mangaka is indecisive. Nope, not pretty. On stage however, the opposite is true; even if the centre of attention might only be on one character, whoever is present also on stage –however far in the background – cannot be ‘out of view’. This is where skilled performers and concrete character interpretation become essential to a good production. The most memorable examples in my opinion are brought by Sebastian and Madam Red.

1. Hints in the Background

The first scene for analysis is when Ciel first meets up with Madam and Lau in the London town house. When we meet Lau, he behaves like nothing but an utter and complete airhead. He gives nobody reason to suspect he is not the ‘dumb foreigner’ as dictated by Chinese stereotype. In this rendition, ‘nobody’ seemed to include Madam Red and Grell as well. Though I personally think Araki laid emphasis on the clown aspect of Lau a bit too thick, he does fit in with the goofy half of the Lycoris musical. While I would have loved to see how Lau would function as a more subtle bridge between the musical’s starkly contrasted serious-vs-goofy tone, he is what he is. The only problem is that I personally find it hard to believe how this Lau could have survived this well in 19th century supremacist England as a foreigner, let alone made his way through the ranks to becoming branch leader of a crime syndicate… but that’s just me perhaps.

♪The air is filled with darkness and a beast-like stench, unlike anything you have ever seen. You could hold your breath and desperately try to keep your calm. But once you set foot in there, all that is left is being consumed by madness ♪

Lau joins a comic song where he enjoys gossiping and taunting Grell together with Madam, and Madam seems to enjoy his company, until Lau suddenly displays a sudden hint of intellect and wit previously invisible in him. At this, Madam who was originally sitting to the side of the table springs up in seeming paranoia.

She appears to try to assess Lau from closer up and subtly shifts towards the man. The second Madam gets up, Sebas already takes notice and makes to collect the empty cups. Sebas’ action here gives us a hint that he has been paying a very close eye to the duo and is constantly on alert. This is perhaps the first indication that Sebas already knows something is wrong with Madam and her butler.

Grell meanwhile, notices the increasing distress in her mistress and approaches her, convincing her to remain calm and sit down. A very small but telling detail is when Madam is about to sit down again, she waves a gesturing hand to assure Grell that everything will be alright. This small gesture is easily overlooked, and yet is a powerful detail in storytelling. To spectators who are already familiar with the story, it adds layer to the characters and is almost a spoiler to cracking the case. To unfamiliar spectators, it is subtle enough to not spoil the outcome, but does give them a glimpse of the deep bond in this master-servant relationship.

2. Not ineffective, just nasty

The second scene that can serve as splendid example is Sebastian’s passive aggressive upside-down reading previously mentioned in this post. Here however, I shall go into more analytical detail.

Another hint we are given that Sebastian knows more than he lets on is the scene where Ciel and Madam play chess. Sebastian has been ordered to go through the list of suspects over and over again, because Ciel remained dissatisfied about his report that “other than the Viscount of Druitt, none of the humans present at the party could have committed the crimes.”

「ドルイット子爵以外の人間には不可能です」 “Druitt shishaku igai no ningen ni wa fukanou desu”

Although translated to English, ‘none of the humans’ sounds like such a blatant give-away that people might even doubt Ciel’s intelligence, in Japanese this phrase is art itself. ‘Ningen’ means ‘human kind’ as well as ‘people’. In Japanese however, though the word explicitly stresses the type of species, to average listeners, nothing about the phrase would sound out of the way. (If there’s something similar in a language that you know, please share! I’d love to know how this ‘hint’ would best be translated in other languages.) Sebas could have opted for equally natural alternatives such as 人 hito, meaning simply ‘persons’, or 容疑者, yougisha, meaning ‘suspects’, of course. But why would he? This specific wording is a very subtle way of Sebastian to hint at his master that he is headed in an altogether wrong direction, without giving the boy the satisfaction of getting the answer presented to him on a silver platter. Sebastian cares little that his sense of humour would come at the expense of more human lives. What the demon does mind is that his master would make him put up with more of the boring paperwork, again.

This annoyance was not explicit because no lines were given to Sebas in either manga or musical script. Though Sebastian remained graceful, his true sentiments probably boiled down to a simple ‘bitch, please’. In the shadows, Yunbastian would display his irritation with the attitude of a five year old in the most elegant fashion ever to be seen in theatre.

In an interview, Furukawa shared with us that his Sebas would obey his master’s instructions, so reading is what he would do. But he would not hesitate to let his master know just how foolish these instructions were. Passive-aggressive loud turnings of the pages and upside-down reading are what were due. Sadly the loud turning of the pages is inaudible in a grand theatre, but the upside-down reading can be witnessed in its full glory. No, it was not a coincidence, and I can assure you. Even if it was just so that the stack of paper was wrongly sorted, nobody besides Furukawa could have seen that the words were upside down. So why would Yunbastian bother? Turning paper with gloved hands is tricky! (Seriously, you try it yourself).

This seemingly small gesture is more important to the entire flow of the story and the characterisation of Sebas’ character than one may suspect at first. Sebastian is designed as a demon butler to whom the even most herculean of tasks seem like a doddle. The way that it has been revealed in the manga that Sebas had always known whose tail his master should have been after seemed a bit of out of the blue. In the musical version however, thanks to this ‘simultaneous panelling’ I mentioned before, the revelation was turned into an inevitable result of a gradual development in time. The manga left me personally wondering why Sebas didn’t help Ciel solve the Ripper case sooner. The obvious reasoning is that he simply couldn’t, be it because of order restraints or even personal incompetence. As it turns out in the musical however, Sebas was not ineffective, he’s just nasty.

The small hints in the backgrounds did not only show us how savvy Sebas had been, but also function as a warning that behind the elegant façade, a nasty jester hides. This is perhaps the first example we get of Yana-sensei’s claim that ‘she was beaten to the punch by Yunbastian.’ Glimpses have been shown, but we did not get any explicit confirmation that Sebastian is a nasty demon with an even nastier sense of humour until 2018 in chapter 138. During the run of Lycoris back in 2015, we already see that Furukawa foresaw how petty and tempestuous Sebas truly is behind his concocted beauty.

3. That Demon, Still Butler

The third and final scene I selected for analysis is the one with Undertaker after Madam’s funeral.

After the funeral, Undertaker brutally taunts the boy about the loss of his aunt, but Ciel buffs up and lies: “I prioritised catching Jack the Ripper over saving her life. I left her to her fate… with knowledge. Even my own blood relative.”

In the manga, Sebastian’s reaction ⇈ to Ciel during and after the funeral had mostly been a stoic and disapproving one. This is to be expected, as without Sebastian, Ciel would simply have been useless at his own job in this case. It had been Sebas who had given all the puzzle pieces to his master, and it was also he who had to lay all the pieces into its frame. Ciel was only there to see that the job be done the way he wanted it to be done, but otherwise only served to slow the case down. Sebastian’s attitude? If you see fit to waste my time I would happily waste yours too, my Lord.

Yunbastian too has grown rather spiteful by the end of this arc, but he is sassier than Sebas in the manga. While Sebastian in the manga seems to merely disapprove, Yunbastian raises a very judgemental eyebrow. He said nothing, but the eyebrow may as well have been knitted into a frown spelling ‘oh-really-now?’

Then, although Undertaker was hardly a threat at that point of the manga, when he grabbed the boy by his collar in a somewhat aggressive manner, Yunbastian turned immediately and stays on alert from that point on. However subtle this gesture, we are once again reminded of the sole reason Sebastian is on Earth. He is still bound by the terms of his contract, and is therefore first and foremost Ciel’s mother butler.

All in all, I think that both Akane Live and Furukawa Yuuta made very significant contributions to their characters that Yana herself admitted to have failed to portray in the manga (I shall add the source when I find it again). Although the Jack the Ripper arc is very interesting and beautiful, I do wish the manga could have been fleshed out a bit more. I personally found the solemn-vs-goofy balance a bit askew in the Lycoris musical, but the actors really did give the characters so much more depth and layers.

Thank you all for your interest and compliments, and also for reading this long fan-ramble disguised as an in-depth analysis!

#Furukawa Yuta #Akane Liv #kuroshitsuji #Musical #Black Butler #Kuromyu #the lycoris that blazes the earth #Analysis #Simultaneous panelling #In the Shadows of the Spotlights #Request by rmglawliet #Thank you!!

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kbstories · 6 years

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Here’s the second part of the gift exchange, this time for wonderful @zieglider. They wished for birthday fluff with Jack!

Bound To Be Made

Tags: Charthur, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Birthday Fluff, Arthur and Charles Being Good Uncles, Soft AF

Inspired by this beautiful fanart by @themightynyunyi 💮

>>Read on AO3!

☕ Commission me on ko-fi!

Jack starts, “Uncle Arthur...”, and whatever will follow those two words, Arthur knows he won't be able to resist that hesitant-yet-hopeful tone of his. He glances down from the map he's studying to wide, almost-pleading brown eyes.

John's eyes, and God knows Arthur couldn't ever say no to those, either.

“What is it, Jack, hm? You doin' okay?”

The boy's reply of “Yeah, I'm okay” is a little too quick, a little too quiet to be genuine. The twist to Arthur's heart is familiar by now; these days, he barely has time to even dwell on the fact they're dragging a child along on this hellish ride, much less on a possible solution for it.

And yeah, Shady Belle is a step up from camping out in the wild. With the sunken bones of its previous occupiers and the hissing of alligators just a few yards away, it doesn't exactly make for a child-friendly environment by any definition of the word.

Pushing aside his musings for later, Arthur takes his hat and kneels, lips pulling into an automatic smile as Jack visibly perks up. A moment later and the kid laughs, reaching for the brim of Arthur's hat that threatens to slide down and over his face.

The worn and hole-ridden leather looks all the more rough against his short, unscarred fingers. Arthur tugs the hat into place.

“'fraid you'll have to grow into it some more, heh.”

Jack doesn't seem to mind one bit. “Can I keep it, Uncle Arthur, can I?” His excitement dims immediately after voicing his request – gaze dropping, he shuffles his feet. “Maybe until Dad comes back?”

Arthur fights to keep his expression open and friendly. Oh, Jack. “Wouldn't dream of takin' it away. Ya know what? I was 'bout to do some rounds, check the perimeter and such. Wanna tag along, partner?”

If Jack's eyes were wide before, they are positively huge now. He nods eagerly, “Okay”, and adds “partner” after a beat, trying out the word in Arthur's drawl.

Arthur chuckles and flicks the hat, drawing a protective “Hey!” from Jack.

It is perhaps no coincidence that they come by Abigail first. Her worried look turns to relief when she catches sight of them, and then to dutiful delight when Jack shows off his new hat proudly.

“Well, ain't you a proper cowboy now”, she says with some fondness, nodding at Arthur and mouthing a thank you. Arthur mimics a tip of his hat, the gesture feeling significantly less smooth without it.

“What are you boys up to, then?”

Arthur catches the subtle warning in her glance and shrugs, “Just takin' a lil stroll around camp with my new assistant here”, and returns Jack's grin with a wink. Abigail looks between them and sighs despite the smile on her lips, plain as day.

“Just be back before dark, 'kay?”

Jack beams. “Okay, Momma! See ya!”

Arthur huffs, “Aaand he's gone”, watching the boy run off towards the horses. “Don't ya worry, Abigail. I'll take good care'a him.”

The happy facade crumbles a little. Abigail's smile is tired, then, even if she reaches out to pat Arthur's arm. “Oh I know, Arthur, you always do. 's just–” A glance behind, beyond the flaps of a too-empty tent. “Well, John ain't back from that job yet, and Jack's been takin' it kinda hard. Don't know what Dutch is thinkin', workin' the boy's father today of all days...”

And again, it takes considerable effort to keep a grimace off his face. Shit. Arthur knew when he wrote down the date in his journal earlier that he was forgetting something – last year around this time, with John gone and Abigail struggling, he'd taken Jack on a ride out with Boudicea, both to give his mother a break and get the boy's mind off things.

Of course back then it'd been easier to wander about and enjoy nature. Now, they couldn't even take a gander out of camp without the law scenting the air like the bloodhounds they are.

But today shouldn't be about that: Jack deserves a day off from all this stress they've been putting him under lately, and maybe this time, the wait for his father will be worth it. Arthur's willing to believe in some miracles.

Taking Abigail's hand, he squeezes just long enough to stop her from worrying a hole right through her bottom lip. Abigail blinks at him, exhales, her shoulders losing some of their tension.

There's a whole 'nother conversation swirling in her eyes; Arthur nods, later, 'kay?, and she rolls her eyes and shoos him away, calling “Have fun now!” after him.

Jack is long gone by the time Arthur's made his way over to the horses – only Kieran is there, tending to one of their draft horses with the usual care and dedication, and he merely glimpses at Arthur's searching look before pointing further into camp. Arthur mutters a “Thanks, Duffy” that makes the other give him a grateful smile and yeah, maybe it's finally time Arthur stopped calling him O'Driscroll once and for all.

A sweet melody leads him to Javier, whose fingers don't pause in their dance over trembling guitar strings even when his lips pull into a knowing smile and he nods towards Pearson's wagon. There, he finds Hosea, buried up to his nose in the pages of The Shrew in the Fog but Arthur has barely breathed a word before he jabs his thumb over his shoulder with a good-natured, “keep up, Arthur, will ya?”

It's with some relief that he finally, finally makes out the familiar curve of his hat on an equally familiar mop of tousled brown hair; it swiftly turns to surprise at the sight of Charles right next to Jack, muscular arms crossed and eyebrows drawn together as he searches the horizon for–

“Ah, there you are”, Charles says in lieu of a greeting, voice vaguely amused at how out of breath Arthur is. “Your hat grew legs and ran off without you. Figured you wouldn't be far behind.”

“I could kiss ya right now”, Arthur replies with a hand on Charles's shoulder, wiping the sweat off his brow with the other. “Hey, Jack. Got started without me, huh?”

Happy as a clam, Jack waves from where he's sitting on the trunk of a tree, “Hey, Uncle Arthur!”, legs bouncing against the withered wood. There's a bunch of flowers on his lap, a colorful array of wildflowers by the looks of it.

“You've been busy. Can I see?”

The makeshift bouquet is held out to him – Arthur sits on his haunches to take a closer look, making out daisies and dandelions and popcorn flowers and even roses. He lets out an impressed whistle, “Quite a collection you got there”, and Jack beams under the praise.

“I wanted only the pretty ones. Uncle Charles helped me pick!”

“That so?”, Arthur asks quietly, catching Charles's startled blink... because of the nickname? The thought makes him smile, his chest warming with emotion. Kids aren't exactly Charles's strong suit – due to inexperience, not lack of talent, Arthur is sure – but it's clear he tries, for Jack.

“Did you tell Uncle Charles it's your special day today?”

That seems to jolt Charles out of it – he blinks at Arthur, then at Jack, hesitantly joining Arthur's side in their spontaneous little circle. “Happy birthday, Jack”, he says simply, tone a little less severe than usual, lips quirked in a small smile.

Despite the quick reply of “Thanks, Uncle Charles”, Jack's grin dims a little. Charles throws Arthur one of his looks that seems unaffected but is downright alarmed by his standards, and there's no time to explain the whole sordid tale with glances and gestures alone.

Arthur clears his throat to dispel the awkward silence looming above them. “So”, he prompts, giving the flowers back to Jack. “What do ya wanna make with 'em? Another necklace, or maybe one of them, uh... crown-like things?”

Here's the thing about Jack: somewhere along the way, he learned not to say the things he means, and to weigh his options carefully before expressing what he wants. Arthur can practically see the little gears in his head turning and there's one fleeting glance at Charles before the kid shrugs and mumbles, “I guess.”

Well, that won't do. “C'mon kid, ya know Charles an' I ain't the judgin' kind. And we can help. Owe ya a present anyways, ain't that right Charles?”

“Uh-huh”, Charles agrees without missing a beat and yeah, this is why Arthur loves the guy.

Considering the offer for a moment, Jack blinks up shyly through his lashes – a look that would give Cain a run for his money in the puppy eyes department any day. Finally he straightens his back and says with newly-found resolve: “Uncle Charles.”

Charles goes stiff as a board beside Arthur. “...Yes?”

“Can I put them in your hair?”

He's pointing at Charles; Arthur follows his line of sight to the long braid draped over his right shoulder and winces a little. The man is very particular with who gets to touch his hair (the list of those allowed beginning and ending with Arthur) but again, there's no hesitation before he hums his agreement and reaches up to undo the gracefully interlaced, sleek strands.

It takes a few minutes to get settled during which Jack critically checks and sorts every flower into different piles, asking for Arthur's advice here and there, and Charles combs through his loosened hair with his hands. Their eyes meet and Arthur can't help a teasing smile, going soft, old man, and gets a fond eye-roll in return.

Gone is the shy little boy once they get to it: There's a sort of determined concentration to Jack's gaze as he watches Arthur demonstrate how a simple braid works, Charles's hair gliding soft and easy between his fingers, and the random flower he puts in one of the folds by way of example is instantly picked out again.

Arthur raises his hands in surrender, “Okay, young man, I'll stop messin' with your plan”, and is promptly ignored by Jack, who places a single pink-colored rose in a sea of black with all the care in the world.

Charles is back to his ever-patient self as he sits cross-legged and relaxed, and after a while, Arthur decides to take a page out of his book and just... let the kid do his thing. Soon enough he finds himself leaning shoulder to shoulder against Charles, journal on his knees and pencil in constant motion: Jack's focused stare under Arthur's hat, dark strands balanced on the tip of childlike fingers, the delicate curl of a rose's petals–

“What do you think, Uncle Arthur?”

Looking up, Arthur chuckles at the overly skeptical expression on Jack's so very young face. He pats Charles's knee, just a little longer, before scooting over to Jack's side of things and... Oh.

“Well I'll be–” Arthur blinks, keeping his mouth from gaping with some effort. “Jack, this is really somethin'.”

There's an unexpected level of taste to the placement of the flowers, a gentle mixture of white and pink that contrasts quite nicely with the black of Charles's hair and the rough texture of his blue shirt. The man in question turns his head to glance curiously over his shoulder.

“How's it look?”

Beautiful, Arthur wants to say but he bites it back in time. “Wait, I'll show ya... You okay with me sketchin' this, Jack?”

“Sure!” Jack's voice is full of pride. Then, more confident than before, “Can I watch?”

Oh, he can feel Charles's attention snap to that question instantly, even if he doesn't move a muscle. Usually, it makes Arthur too self-conscious to have someone look over his shoulder while he draws but, well, it's Jack's birthday and there's no way in hell he'll ruin that happy look on his face.

“Okay then. Let's see...”

The sun is crawling towards the horizon when Arthur remembers his promise to Abigail and, with Jack sitting on his shoulders like a king on his royal steed, all three of them stroll back to camp just in time to hear the thundering of hooves in the distance.

“Sounds like Old Boy”, Charles says with something akin to satisfaction in his voice, and Arthur nods, smiling up at Jack.

“Look who's here, huh? C'mon, say hi to your dad.”

The moment he sets him down, Jack starts running towards his parents' tent – however, after a few steps he turns around and, before Arthur can ask what's wrong, Jack is hugging him tightly around the waist, “Thanks, Uncle Arthur”, and again, “Thanks, Uncle Charles”, as he does the same with Charles too.

Then, very reluctantly, he takes Arthur's hat and holds it out to him, comically large in his hands.

Even knowing the boy as long as he does, Arthur feels his heart turn to goo until it threatens to drip between his ribs. “Keep it for now, kid”, he mumbles, ruffling Jack's hair. “Just give it back tomorrow, hm?”

Jack nods happily and dashes away.

Arthur watches him go for a while before glancing at Charles, who looks miles away in his head. Carefully, he pushes a stray flick of hair behind Charles's ear, his fingers brushing the flowers still tangled in his braid.

“Want me to get these out for ya?”

Leaning into his palm, Charles's eyes are back in the present and locking with Arthur's.

“Mh, nah. I kinda like 'em.”

>>Read on AO3!

#charthur #arthur morgan #charles smith #jack marston #red dead redemption #rdr2 #rdr fanfiction #whoo i'm back babey!!!!#i'll be focusing on the comms after this but #they are all great ideas i'm super looking forward to it!#reblogs as always appreciated #also becka deserves all the fluff in the world this has been a psa #RDR #my stuff

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aweirdkindofyellow · 5 years

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Here I Am, There You Are Pt. 8

Jack Barakat x OC ‘Rachel has been best friends with Alex, Jack, Rian, and Zack since high school. What happens when one of them gets married?’

Part 8

I was holding tightly onto Olive’s leash as I was being led through the building. She was what I was clutching onto as a safety blanket. I was nervous being here. Way too nervous for what it actually was. Olive was way too excited. She was sniffing all the walls and trying to pull me along. We were literally trying to do the opposite. She wanted to go further inside, see what was to come, meet people. I wanted to stall as long as possible. I knew I shouldn’t have been so nervous, but how couldn’t I be?

It had been six months since Jack and I had broken up. I hadn’t heard from him since the day I left LA. He never tried to call me or contact me in anyway. Actually, he had decided to cut all ties with me. I watched as he deleted all the pictures he had with me up on social media. How couldn’t I watch? I kept being tagged and mentioned in things his fans were asking. He even unfollowed me on everything. I left my pictures with him untouched. I didn’t hate him and he had been a big part of my life that I couldn’t deny. If I ever got in a serious relationship again, I would probably remove them, but I wasn’t at that point in my life. The only reason I unfollowed him was because I thought it was petty that he did it to me. We had been friends for way longer, but he obviously believed all of that disappeared after our break up. Even other friends unfollowed me. Initially, Alex had checked up on me multiple times. He would shoot me a quick text asking how I was doing. We’d occasionally speak on the phone when things weren’t too great. But I guess Jack was his priority. He checked up on me less and less frequently until it completely died down. Soon after, he also unfollowed me on social media. The only reason I found out was because he often was one of the first people to like my posts, which suddenly stopped. It was a different kind of betrayal. They had chosen Jack over me. Luckily, I still had Sascha, who quickly became my best friend. There was nobody else to rant to, nobody else to cry with, and nobody else to laugh with. She had really helped me through the break up. Her initial words when we just met had already changed my view so much. She made sure I didn’t dwell on it for too long. Of course, she knew not to push anything on me, but she made me realise it was okay to get back out there. I didn’t sulk around for months. I let myself go out and meet new people. It didn’t always go great, but it did help a little. There were other people out there even though I used to think Jack and I would be together forever. I just hadn’t found somebody else yet, which was okay. I had only been in Vancouver for six months. I knew All Time Low was doing a tour in Canada. I still followed Alex, Rian, Zack, and their band account. Their posts still showed up in my feed. I saw their digital poster. The first time I saw it, I was almost terrified. I mean, how couldn’t I be? But then again, it was a bit unreasonable. It wasn’t like running into Jack would be like running into a classic ex. I was still willing to be friends again. This boy had had a crush on me multiple times in his life and always managed to get over it and stay friends with me. There had to be a possibility for it to happen again. Also, the chance of me running into them was very low. Canada was a large country. That was my reasoning at first. But then I got a text from Alex. He asked me to come to their Vancouver show to hang out. He didn’t mention Jack in his text at all, but it was obvious that Jack would be there. However, I knew that Alex wouldn’t just invite me to their show if Jack wasn’t okay with it. I knew Jack was a wreck when I left, but I had no idea how he had been doing since then. If he was doing just as bad as back then, he wouldn’t even have thought about asking me to come. So, then I went to a slightly altered reasoning. If Jack was okay with me being there, then he must have been up to being friends again. I really did miss my friends, so I told Alex I would most definitely be there. And that’s why I was so nervous walking through a hallway with Olive trying to drag me along. Alex was by my side, he had let me in after I sent him a text saying I was outside. He did greet me and everything, but I was too focused on keeping control of Olive to start a conversation with him. Also, I hadn’t spoken to him in five months, it was a bit weird. “Right in here,” Alex told me as he pointed to the door coming up to the right and jogged to be up front. I nodded and started recognising the voices that were talking inside the room. It made my heart beat faster knowing that Jack was there just hanging out and talking to his bandmates and crew. I would have loved to take a second a mentally prepare myself again, but Olive wouldn’t let me. She also heard the voices and noticed one she hadn’t heard in quite a while. All that was needed was a harsh tug and the leash flew out of my hands. I instinctively ran after her. You never know what a dog gets into when it runs away. However, when I entered the room, she wasn’t doing anything bad. She had found Jack and was jumping around his feet, trying to get closer to him. He had already knelt down to give her attention. I actually felt a little bad. Olive didn’t know we had broken up, she would never know and never understand. “I guess I don’t have to say hi anymore,” I said, actually happy the initial moment of walking in here had been made less stressful. Eyes were on Olive, they all knew I was here because of her. “Ay, Rachel!” Rian greeted me, turning away from Olive and Jack, who he had been standing with before. “How are you?” “I’m good, thanks,” I grinned at him and put my bag down. I was more than glad that it was going well so far. “How’s Vancouver treating you?” he asked next. Jack slowed down the pets he was giving to Olive and started paying attention to the conversation more and more, to the point that he stood back up. “Pretty well.” I nodded and pulled off my nice and warm orange-toned trench coat, hanging it over my arm. “It’s relatively cold, but I’m learning to deal with it.” “You look good.” Jack had a soft smile grazing his lips. He had a red solo cup in his hands from which he took a drink when he furrowed his eyebrows at what he said. At least I knew I wasn’t the only one unsure how to act. “Thanks,” I accepted the compliment. It would be a lot less awkward if I showed that I wasn’t going to overthink everything. Olive left Jack’s side and came back to me. “It’s all Olive’s fault.” As if on cue, Olive pushed her front paws against my upper leg. I scratched her head and pulled out a treat of my jacket’s pocket. “She really missed running around in the garden in the morning, so we go on a run every morning. It made me lose a lot of weight, which wasn’t that great, so I’ve started going to the gym.” “You hair’s nice too,” Alex pointed out the much more drastic change. Going to the gym made me look much more athletic and healthier, but my hair was a clear visible difference. It was no longer long and brown. What I had cut to shoulder length before was now a bob, I couldn’t even put it in a ponytail anymore. My hair had also been lightened up, but I wasn’t a blonde. Instead, I now had a dusty rose colour. It wasn’t too pink or pastel. The colour was still very natural. It was more like a dirty blonde with a pink undertone. I couldn’t exactly show up with pink hair to my job, even though I was sure I wouldn’t get fired over it. “My best friend did it,” I told him to give her the credit. Sascha really deserved it. “Oh, for some show right?” Zack added. “Yeah, she’s a hairdresser and got the opportunity to show off her skills at a convention. I got the honour to be her model. How do you know?” I wondered as I finally took Olive’s leash off her collar. “It’s on your instagram,” he shrugged. “Huh,” I looked at him with surprise and put down my jacket and the leash, “I didn’t know you still followed me.” “Of course I do,” he acted like it was a given. “I also know you recently went on a hiking trip in Northern California.” “I think I’m just going to be talking to you the entire evening,” I laughed and sat next to him. You could always count on Zack not ignoring you and paying a tiny bit more attention. “Did you go with the same friend who did you hair?” he continued the conversation. Everybody else just listened, obviously understanding the subtle shade I had just thrown in their direction. “No,” I shook my head, keeping in a chuckle, “she hates hiking. I can rope her into a short hike, but no way she’ll go on a three day trip. No, I went with my…” I took a second to think. Who was this person to me? I wasn’t even sure. “Another friend. And then a couple of their friends.” I decided to keep the gender to myself. Yes, it was a guy. No, he wasn’t my boyfriend. But, yes, we had been dating. It wasn’t anything serious yet, though. He was a nice guy and everything, he had obviously invited me on a trip with his friends. But he wasn’t my boyfriend. And he knew. I had told him I was unsure if I was ready for a serious relationship so I wouldn’t be leading him on. It didn’t turn him away, though, and we had been sort of seeing each other for a month. The guys here didn’t need to know about that, especially with Jack and I’s breakup still being relatively fresh. But my hesitation didn’t really help me hide it. “Wait…” Alex stopped me with a hint of what almost seemed like worry. “Are you engaged?!” “What?” I stared back at him, wondering where he would even get such an idea. But then I noticed the sparkle on my left ring finger. My eyes went wide. “Oh! Oh, no. I got this as a gift from Ethan for my birthday last month. I just got my right hand caught in the car door three days ago and managed to quickly pull the ring off before it started swelling.” I showed my very bruised hand as proof. I had this horrible red-ish purple colour covering the knuckles from my middle finger to my little finger. “Oh, shit, sorry,” he quickly apologised. “Jeez. I don’t get into relationships that quickly.” Jack rolled his eyes at Alex and sat down on the couch adjacent to the one I was sharing with Zack. I wanted to roll my eyes as well. Sure, I got wanting to know. It was a big deal, especially with my ex-boyfriend in the room, but he didn’t have to ask like that. He could have asked about the ring instead of just suddenly butting in with a straightforward question. “So, what have you guys been up to while I’ve been gone?” I changed the subject before things would become awkward. I desperately didn’t want things to become awkward. “You know, the usual,” Jack replied first before anybody else could. To me, it almost seemed like he wanted to prove that he was doing fine as well. It could have just as well been a normal vague answer, but that look in his eyes said differently. “The usual?” I played along, giving him his chance to shine. “What’s the usual?” He opened his mouth but needed another moment to think. “That is a good question. What is the usual? Pretty deep. I just mean playing shows, writing music. I don’t do too much at home, other than sometimes going out with friends.” The fact that he didn’t mention anybody else was quite a relief. I thought he’d be taking this chance to tell me about another girl he was seeing or something. But there was no mention. It was quite comforting. But then again, he could have been hiding it just like me. It would have been real strange if he started bragging about a new girl to me. Actually, I didn’t want to mention any guys because I was afraid of hurting him, maybe he was doing the same. We didn’t hate each other, he wouldn’t brag. I was about to ask if anything interesting had happened when my phone started ringing. While most people would ignore a phone call, I knew to always answer it. Nobody except my family, work, or Sascha called me. So, I pulled out my phone to see it actually was Sascha who was calling. I was a bit worried, knowing she was out by herself. “Do you guys mind if I answer this?” I asked despite the fact that I was going to answer no matter what they said. I was more excusing myself from the conversation than anything. “My phone’s a bit broken, so it only works on loudspeaker.” They nodded and I moved myself over to a corner of the room so they could continue doing their own thing. Olive followed me and stopped at my feet, trying to lick my hand that was at my side. I answered the phone as the guys continued their own conversation. I didn’t even get to say hello to Sascha before she started to talk to me. “Oh my god, that was the worst date I’ve ever been on,” she groaned. I frowned and looked at the time. It was only six in the evening. She went out only just over half an hour ago. This was a new record. “I got out of there as fast as I could. This asshole seemed super nice, but he really did show another side of himself. He could have practically whipped his dick out at the table, he was that sleazy.” I heard the conversation behind me halt as everybody in the room had heard exactly what he said. I chuckled a bit uncomfortably, she used quite graphic language to describe things. “Umm, Sasch, you know you’re on speaker, right?” “Of course I do, your phone’s been broken for weeks,” she scoffed and raised her voice as she said, “hi, Rachel’s old friends.” The boys gave her a mumbled and confused hey back. “I’m Rachel’s new best friend. Anyway, as I was saying, I know I was wearing a low cut shirt, but you don’t have to be staring at my boobs the entire time and making disgusting comments. I’m just glad I managed to leave without any trouble. By the way, did you leave Olive at home?” I took a second to take in her jumble of words and sentences before replying, looking down at the dog nuzzling her face into my leg. “No, I took her with me.” “Why would you do that?!” she sighed heavily. “Because you were supposed to be out and I didn’t want to leave her alone the entire day and evening,” I reasoned. “Ugh, well, I’m claiming her tonight. I should have just come with you!” “You still could,” Alex said while shrugging, still secretly listening in on my conversation. All the boys were probably still listening in, their interest had piqued when they heard the words ‘Rachel’s new best friend.’ “I appreciate the offer,” Sascha thanked him, making me wonder how she had managed to hear it from where I was standing in the room, “but that would mean getting changed again.” “You love dressing up, it always cheers you up,” I countered, not hating the idea of her still coming here. She was initially supposed to join me, but then this date got in the way. “Not today.” I pouted even though she couldn’t see me. I really did feel bad for her, she was initially so excited to go on this date. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, I’m just going to raid your freezer for ice cream because you ate all of mine last week and I forgot to buy more,” Sascha suggested instead. “That’s only fair,” I agreed. “Good, because I’m unlocking your front door right now,” she stated and I could hear her closing a door. “I just don’t understand why I was so dumb to go on that date. I should have known.” “Hey, don’t worry, we’ve both got a shit taste in men,” I told her casually. “Oh my god, remember crazy guitar guy?” She gasped loudly, making her voice spread loudly through the room. Right at the same time I turned around and coincidentally made eye contact with Jack. This could be interpreted the wrong way. Although Jack was a guitarist, he wasn’t the guy Sascha was talking about. I had gone on a date with another guy who also happened to play guitar, only he still had a day job. He was nothing like Jack. I didn’t want him thinking that he was the crazy guy, but I also didn’t want to quickly correct it. If I did that, then it seemed too much like I cared. All I could think of doing was reply back to Sascha. “I still have that random broken guitar in my living room.” Sascha laughed for the first time during that conversation, so it was an achievement. She then mocked the guys we were talking about by singing the song he had come by to sing to me one evening. “Rachel, you’re such a bitch, please just show me your tits!” “Was your date just as bad as that?” “No, but very close.” She seemed to be cheered up a little bit now. “I’m going to go eat your ice cream and watch Netflix now. Just remember I’m taking Olive from you when your come back.” We said our goodbyes and I joined the guys again despite the fact that I never really left and they were totally listening the entire time. I went back to my seat next to Zack and once again Olive followed me. Something told me she was going to be doing that a lot. “So, crazy guitar guy?” Rian raised and eyebrow, asking the question all of them were probably asking themselves. I shrugged, not thinking it was that big of a deal, but it was a good time to clarify that it wasn’t about Jack. “A coworker tried to set me up with a friend. I didn’t want to originally, but what harm would one date do, right? Well, I didn’t pursue it in the end and he eventually showed up at my place to sing a song calling me a bitch because I wouldn’t sleep with him. It ended with him slamming his guitar on the floor when I rejected him again. People aren’t just crazy in LA.” “You have to deal with that?” Jack commented with a hint of disgust and concern in his voice. “Yeah, but I’m used to it by now.” Over the next few hours before their show started, we were just hanging out. We weren’t just in their dressing room, we moved around backstage a bit. For example, I also got to mingle with their supporting acts and I also caught up with some of the friends I had made that worked as their crew. I wasn’t there to be cooped up in their dressing room the entire time and their show didn’t start until hours after I had arrived. I was somewhere in one of the other dressing rooms which we all managed to flock to when I realised my phone was about to die. So, I excused myself and went back to All Time Low’s dressing room to get my charger and powerbank. When I entered the room, I saw Jack sitting by himself with his back facing me. His red solo cup was on the table beside him and he was focusing all his attention on his phone. He didn’t even seem to notice me walking in. I slowly approached and took a quick glance over his shoulder to see what he was doing. Honestly, I was just expecting him to be scrolling through social media or texting somebody, but it wasn’t exactly that. He was on social media, alright, he just wasn’t scrolling. I could recognise the picture he was zooming in on as the picture I posted of my hike with that one guy I was sort of seeing and his friends. After taking a good look, he checked the tagged people and went to look at the guy’s profile. I felt awkward watching him do this stuff right in front of me without him knowing I was there. So, I acted like I was just walking in and hadn’t seen a thing just yet. “Hey!” I made my presence known as I walked up to my bag. Jack jumped in his seat. He had a real fright knowing that I was just behind him. It was so bad he even dropped his phone and quickly scrambled to pick it back up to make sure I wouldn’t see what he was doing. He literally looked like a deer caught in headlights, staring at me and completely frozen. “Are you okay?” I laughed, trying my best to act like I didn’t know he was stalking my instagram page now he knew about all the things Zack talked about. I grabbed my powerbank and cable and plugged my phone in. “Why are you here all by yourself?” He relaxed a little, believing that I had no idea what he had been doing before. “Just taking a second to cool down.” “To me it looks like you’re drinking by yourself,” I joked despite it obviously being the truth, and let myself drop down on the couch next to his chair so that our knees were just inches from touching. “That as well.” He opened the bottle of whiskey on the table and poured some in his cup before raising it and taking a large gulp. I looked at him and gave him a faint twitch of a smile. Maybe Jack wasn’t doing that great after all. Sure, he was doing well enough to be in the same room as me without bursting into tears, but he wasn’t doing good either. I had seen him constantly drinking over the course of the evening. He wasn’t going overboard, but he wasn’t exactly smart about it either. He wasn’t excessively drunk, but he wasn’t sober. Seeing me doing ‘okay’ probably didn’t help either. But to be honest, I wasn’t doing as great as I made it seem. It still didn’t feel right going out on a date despite having been on several with different people. “Where’s Olive?” He suddenly asked after a few seconds of silence, looking around to see if the dog had followed me in again. “Oh, she’s chilling out at Zack’s side. She seems to really have taken a liking to him,” I told him. “You seem to have as well,” Jack pointed out. “I’ve always liked Zack!” I argued back. It wasn’t a sudden thing because he still followed what happened in my life. “He’s a sweetheart. I just hope he’ll find somebody that will love him as much as he loves everybody close to him.” Jack nodded and scratched the back of his head, downing the rest of his drink and going to pour some more in. The entire room was silent except for the first support act’s muffled playing from stage. I didn’t like it. This silence. We used to be so close. People are always afraid of ruining the friendship, but I never thought about it. I didn’t want that to happen to us, but we were already down that path. I reached out for the table and grabbed a deck of cards. “Let’s play a card game.” “A card game?” He raised his eyebrows and sipped on his new drink. “Yes.” I nodded and started splitting the deck so we each had 20 cards and four small piles in the middle. “We’re playing speed.” “Our old game from high school.” He grinned in approval. “Okay, I’ve got this.” And so we started playing the game. If we didn’t have anything to talk about, how else were we going to break the ice? It worked amazingly. We were both very competitive and so played the game many many times. The first time, it was quite silent, but slowly we loosened up. We started laughing and trying to make the other lose. Eventually, accidental hand touches didn’t even matter anymore. “What’s going on in here?” Alex smiled brightly as he entered the room and saw me and Jack playing the game together. “Just some card games. Would you like to play something with us?” I asked and accidentally made brief eye contact with Jack, brushing hair out of my face. “Umm…” he looked between the two of us as if in thought, “you know what, sure.” I started dealing the cards for another game we could play with more people. It was like old times again. We were all friends just doing fun things again. I was the happiest I had been in a while, especially since Jack was sort of back in my life. I knew I was still in love with him, but I’d take a friendship over nothing. I watched from side stage as the guys played their concert. It was something I had seen quite often when Jack and I were still together, but it had been quite a while now. They always managed to make it so familiar yet so different. It was so much fun to be able to witness it again. Jack would give occasional glances in my direction and I’d smile back at him. It wasn’t great for my heart, but I didn’t care anymore. We were in their dressing room after the show. The boys were a mixture of sweaty and freshly showered. I was just in the middle of it all, watching and not paying attention at the same time. They were still getting over the adrenaline while I was there knowing I was going to have to leave soon. “Hey, Rachel, are you going to join us for a few drinks in town?” Rian asked, a towel around his neck. He was one of the few that had gotten to shower. “Oh, no I can’t. I’ve got Olive with me,” I told him. As much as I would have loved to join them, I had to say goodbye eventually. Also, drinking wasn’t my thing. “That’s too bad,” he sighed, but didn’t try to convince me. Suddenly, Jack seemed to have an important thought. “I have a question,” he announced and put his hand on my leg, “do you have a washing machine?” “No, I throw out all my clothes after I wear them,” I teased. “Hey, it’s a serious question,” he said and moved his hand away again, “not everybody has one, especially in an apartment.” “Of course I have one.” “Do you mind if I use it?” He daringly asked, seeming afraid of the answer. “I only have, like, one pair of underwear left.” “Sure, of course, if you have the time for it.” I nodded, not wanting the others to have to deal with Jack smelling horrible. “We don’t need to be back until four,” he quickly replied, “that’s enough time.” “Okay.” I nodded and looked at the others. “Do you guys want to do some laundry as well?” Alex looked like he was about to say yes, but he stopped himself and said the opposite. “Nah, I think I’m fine. If not, I’ll figure something out.” “Are you sure? I really don’t mind.” “No, no, I’d rather go out for drinks,” he insisted. The other boys agreed with Alex stupidly. They should have taken this chance to get their laundry done for free. I would have even been able to use Sascha’s machine if there was a lot to do. But no, they really wanted to go out instead. So, that’s how Jack ended up coming to my apartment alone. I was once again holding Olive’s leash and Jack was carrying a suitcase full of laundry. Although the car ride had been full of us talking and singing along to songs, walking through my building was done in complete silence. Maybe we didn’t have anything else to say, maybe we didn’t want to be loud at such a late hour. Either way, there was no sound other than our footsteps and the noise of me unlocking my door. Once we got in, I saw Sascha on my couch. She had a remote in her hand and was turning off the TV. “Ey,” she greeted us and held up her tub of ice cream, “I only managed to eat half of it before I started feeling sick.” “That’s a shame,” I said, knowing how I had finished a whole tub by myself last time. But look, I just happened to be on my period that week and going to this show was freaking me out. I had been a mess. Sascha still seemed to be doing okay. “Alright, let me clean up and grab Olive and I’ll be out your way.” She stood up and went to the kitchen. “You don’t have to leave.” I watched as she put the rest of the ice cream back in the freezer. I didn’t want her to think she had to leave just because Jack was here. “I know,” she countered and dropped her spoon in the dishwasher, “but I was really just waiting for you to give Olive. I’m seconds away from falling asleep.” I accepted her answer and let her take the leash from me. Although we were neighbours and best friends, we didn’t spend every second together. We had the occasional movie marathon and would stay over at each other’s places, but we didn’t sleep over every night. However, whenever Sascha was having a shitty day, I’d let her take Olive for the night. There was something so comforting about sleeping with a dog on your bed. “Hi, I’m Jack,” Jack introduced himself out of nowhere, probably feeling a little awkward. “Oh, I know who you are,” Sascha retorted and glared at him before giving him the middle finger and leaving the apartment. I decided to quickly move on before things got even more awkward and started down the hallway to the bathroom. “The washing machine and dryer are in the guest bathroom. I had nowhere else to put them and I don’t often have guests.” “Okay.” Jack followed me and glanced around the living room. “This place is nice.” “Well, obviously it is. They made me move to Vancouver.” I rolled my eyes and flipped the light switch on before pulling two boxes out of a cabinet and putting them on the machine. “Here’s the laundry detergent, white and colours. You do you, just do whatever you usually do. I’m going to change out of these jeans, if you don’t mind.” “That’s okay, thanks.” Jack put down his suitcase and let me leave the bathroom. I went to my own bedroom and closed the door. It was strange, Jack being here. Just half a year ago I thought we could have been living here together, but now I was showing him where my washing machine was. It didn’t feel right. I didn’t want it all to be so strange. I wanted things to be normal. After I had switched out my jeans for sweatpants and washed all my makeup off, I went back to my living room to find Jack already there with no shirt on. He was taking a look at pictures I had hung up. They were mainly pictures with my family, but I also had one with Sascha somewhere in there. Any trace of photos I had with him, whether from high school, our relationship, or in between, wasn’t there. “Oh, hey,” Jack smiled when he noticed me walk in, taking his eyes off the photos. “I threw the shirt I was wearing in the laundry as well, I hope you don’t mind.” “No, that’s okay,” I excused him. I had seen him shirtless so many times over the course of our lives that I managed to separate it from anything sexual. It was like I didn’t even notice it while I walked up to him. “So, what do you want to do while we wait for your laundry to finish?” “I dunno,” he mumbled and shrugged before sitting down on the couch Sascha had been sitting on before. “Your friend doesn’t really seem to like me.” “She doesn’t,” I confirmed and sat next to him, staring at the blank TV. “What, why? She doesn’t even know me!” “She’s heard stories,” I turned my head to the left and looked at Jack. Did he really want to get into this? He did the same to look back at me and realisation spread across his face. “Oh… but our breakup was mutual…” “Was it, though?” So, yes, we were going to get into it. Maybe it was for the best. It could give us both closure, it might help us move on. “Yeah, we broke up because you got a job here. Neither of us actually wanted to end things.” Was I really going to tell Jack what Sascha helped me realise? I didn’t want to hurt him. But then again, I would rather have him hate me for what I said than have him always believe that he did nothing wrong. “Not really. I mean, yes, me getting a job here started it, but it isn’t why we broke up. I get not wanting to move here, it’s a big step. Believe me, I know, I did it. But you didn’t want to even try long distance or anything. You said the only way for us to be together was for me to stay, and that’s a shitty thing to do.” Jack stared out in front of him, no longer facing me. He stayed quiet. It looked like he was about to burst. Like he was overthinking everything. I was waiting for tears or screaming, but it didn’t come. He just breathed out heavily. “Damn. That is shitty. I didn’t even know that I– Wow.” “You practically begged me to stay even though you knew I’ve always wanted this job.” “I am so sorry.” He finally looked back at me again, his eyes starting to water, but tears weren’t threatening to fall yet. “I can’t believe I did that. I was so upset – I still am – and I was being so selfish. Honestly, I am an asshole for that, and I’m not saying that to get sympathy.” “Yeah, you are,” I agreed. It wasn’t exactly an apology, but at least he knew he was wrong. “You made me feel so guilty. And then you showed up just when I was about to leave. I met Sascha when I was bawling my eyes out as I was moving in. She luckily beat some sense into me.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes. “It was my fault all along.” “Not just yours–” I tried to console him. “No, Rach, it was,” he interrupted and shook his head. “I have been heart broken the past six months, I haven’t been able to move past it. I let you go, I let go of the one girl I loved with all my heart. Why the fuck did I think that breaking up was better than long distance?” “I don’t know,” I raised my shoulders, “it’s what I’ve been asking myself since we broke up. I’ve tried to get over you, I really have, but I can’t do that. Hell, I’ve even had one night stands, which I deeply regret.” Once again, his eyes fell on me. This time, I could see that his eyes were red from tears that would have spilled if he hadn’t rubbed them away. He was smiling just a little and took hold of my hand. “You’re allowed to enjoy sex, you know that, right?” I stared back at him. I didn’t want him to be so accepting and reassuring. I wanted him to be the asshole he was before, so that our break up was fully justified. That way I knew that I had to stop loving him, that there was no other way. But he was acting so compassionate, realising the things he had done wrong, that it was impossible not to love him. “They weren’t you, though,” I confessed despite my wishes. Before I knew it, Jack was inching closer and I wasn’t stopping him. If anything, I was instigating it. I was slowly leaning closer as well. Our lips met and his right hand went to my cheek. I was kissing him once again for the first time in half a year. It felt so right and trusted. No kiss I had shared with anybody since I moved had me feeling the same way. It reminded me of our first kiss, when Jack just went for it. He was drunk and I was vulnerable, but he never did it to hurt me. Back then, I was confused, but now I was afraid. I pushed him off me and quickly shook my head. “No. No, Jack. I don’t want to have sex. That’s just going to make everything so much more complicated. I’m already hurt enough as it is.” “Rach…” He kept his hand on my cheek. “I don’t want to just have sex. I’d really like to try this long distance thing if you’re still up for it.” I was scared. This time, the decision was mine, the fate of our relationship was in my hands. Jack knew what he wanted, and I had to choose. “I don’t know. I don’t want to go through the pain of breaking up again. You said yourself that you didn’t think it would work out.” “That’s because I was in shock, it was so unreasonable. You can come visit me on tour, just like you used to do, and I’ll come visit you when I’m back home. In between we’ll have texts and phone calls and FaceTime calls. If we’re both one-hundred-percent in this, we can make it work.” It was so tempting. But could I trust him after he absolutely refused before? “Okay,” I nodded and let myself kiss him again. We fell back into a natural rhythm. To make it more comfortable, I swung my right leg over so I was straddling him. Immediately, our kiss deepened. Jack’s hands went down to my hips, and mine traveled up his chest all the way to his shoulders. Him being shirtless was definitely sexual now. It felt amazing being able to touch him again. Eventually, Jack hands traveled underneath my shirt and he started moving the fabric up. I broke away from him and held my arms up for him to take it off completely. He took a second to look at me and take me in. “Damn,” he breathed out and trailed his fingers over my side. “What made you wear such sexy underwear?” I looked down to check what I was wearing and was reminded that I was wearing a sheer baby blue bralette that was decorated with lace flowers. It barely covered anything. “I’ve gotta do my laundry as well.” “Well, thank god for laundry.” He went to kiss me again, but I kept my hand on his chest so he just couldn’t reach. “Wait, let’s go to my bedroom. I don’t want Sascha accidentally walking in.” He nodded in agreement and let me lead him to my bedroom. A while later, I was climbing off Jack and let myself collapse beside him. Those one night stands really had nothing against him. I was catching my breath and waiting for my heart rate to calm down just a little. Jack rolled over and pressed a kiss to my shoulder, which was the one place he could easily reach without any effort. “You are literally the best I’ve ever had.” I snorted and let my fingers run through his hair. “That’s not true.” “Not the most adventurous, but definitely the best,” he corrected and repeated. “There’s something about love that makes it better.” He slowly sat up and pulled off the condom before tying it off. I watched him jog to my bathroom and throw it away in the bin. By now, he knew where to get rid of it, this wasn’t our first go. After the first time, we moved his stuff to the dryer and put the next load in the washing machine. After the second, the wet laundry was put in the dryer and the dry stuff was taken out. Now, his laundry was close to being done. He got back onto the bed next to me and I let myself roll onto my stomach. I was happy. Like, truly happy. Not just okay with life. I had my dream job, I had my best friend, and now I also had Jack. “I don’t want you to leave,” I sighed and looked at the clock. We still had an hour and a half. “I would stay if I could,” he whispered back and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. “Hmm…” I stared at his Jack Skellington tattoo since I had nowhere else to look. “Can we go somewhere?” “Go somewhere?” “Yeah. Like, get in my car and drive somewhere. Just for the last hour until you need to get back. As much as I love being in bed with you, I’d like to do something else.” “Yeah, let’s do it.” A few minutes later, we loaded Jack’s suitcase, two blankets, and a few pillows into my car. Jack had no idea where I was going to take him, but I knew the perfect spot. I drove us out of the city for quite a bit and went up a hill. It was dark outside and nobody else was around. Eventually, we reached a small parking area for the many hikers that would come during the day, and I stopped my car. We put down my back seat, opened up the trunk of the car and let the cover of my sunroof roll away. One blanket was draped over the flattened seat while we used the other to keep us warm. At first we were sitting up and talking, drinking from the hot chocolate I had brought along in a thermos, but we soon lied down and looked up at the stars through the roof. The extra money I had spent on that larger sunroof back in LA seemed quite unnecessary at first, but I loved it now. Jack was still looking up when I went to glance at him to see if he was still enjoying himself. His arm was underneath my head and the blanket was covering us both. It felt so peaceful up here. My eyes fell onto his next and I reached out to touch something I saw. “Oh my god, I gave you a hickey. I did not mean to do that.” “You did?” Jack laughed in response. “It’s so visible, I’m so sorry,” I apologize profusely. He wasn’t going to be able to live this one down in a tour bus. “I honestly don’t care,” he promised as his chest continued to rumble. “Give me another if you’d like.” “No, I can’t do that!” I gasped, still feeling horrible about the one I accidentally gave. “I dare you to.” “Jack!” “Come on.” I pushed my lips against his to get him to shut up. Although I felt a little guilty, his insisting made it intriguing. I kissed the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, the spot behind his ear where the first hickey started, and then further down his neck. He let me suck softly, craning his head to the side a little to give me easier access. Just before I got to finish, he swiftly moved to hover over me. He kissed down my neck and pulled down my shirt a little. Once he reached my collarbone, he left behind a trail of kisses mixed in with some sucking. “Jack,” I giggled and pulled him back up. He pecked my lips and lied back down beside me. It was like we were teenagers. “Just make sure you don’t wear any low cut shirts to work the next few days,” he told me with a satisfied smirk on his face. “You’re such an asshole,” I said but couldn’t help but grin. “At least I didn’t put them in a very visible place. I thought about your work. Mine, however–” “Oh my god!” I breathed in a sharp breath. “Oh, no. Oh, shit, that one’s huge.” “What?” “The second one you just made me give you!” I ran my hand over it, hoping his skin was just flushed, but it was definitely starting to bruise. “You can’t even hide this one with a scarf.” “So? I don’t care, let everybody know,” he shrugged and tried to calm me down. “What about photos and interviews?” “I forgot about that, but I’ll be fine. They’ll just have to get over themselves.” I was about to apologise again, but my eyes fell on the digital clock on my dashboard. It was five minutes ahead, but that didn’t help what I realised. It was quarter-past-four. “Shit, Jack, you were supposed to be on the bus ten minutes ago!” I sat up quickly and scrambled to collect the blanket. “Wait, really?!” Jack shot up as well and helped me clean up as quickly as we could. Just two minutes later, we were on our way back to where the bus was parked. Once again, I felt bad that night. Jack was known to often be a few minutes late. Now he was going to be over an hour late and it was all my fault. I brought him out. If we had stayed at my apartment, we would have had service and gotten the calls from people, we would have paid more attention to the time, and we would have been so much closer to the venue. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t speeding just a little bit. We did eventually arrive. It was now quarter-to-five, but we were there. I parked my car in the parking lot across from where the bus was parked and ran to the bus with Jack. He was carrying his suitcase in one hand and holding my hand with the other. In no time, he unlocked the door and rushed inside, still pulling me along. “I’m here!” He announced loudly. “Sorry he’s late. It’s all my fault,” I told all the guys in the bus so Jack wouldn’t get roasted. He put down his suitcase and let go of my hand. Alex’s eyes lingered where our fingers had been intertwined. “Something tells me that’s a lie.” “No,” I told him and tried to fix my hair a little, ��I took him to a place where service is a little spotty. We only got notifications of your calls when we were on our way back. Luckily I saw the time, otherwise he’d be here even later.” “Okay…” his eyes flickered between me and Jack. “Well, we do really have to leave.” “I know, I’m going before you guys kidnap me.” I started slowly shuffling back to the door to show I really was planning on leaving right then. “Text when you’re home,” Jack pointed at me. “I will. And you guys,” I glanced at all of them, “get in touch if you’re ever close by.” I started my way towards the door properly after they all nodded, but something held me back. Jack grabbed my wrist and pulled me back, kissing me for the last time that night. I happily kissed him back and heard a wolf whistle from one of the others. But before he took this too far, I broke away. “Behave,” I told him sternly and hopped off the bus. As I was walking away and the door was still open, I could hear Rian gasp, “Jack! Your neck!” “Stop it,” Jack whined back, severely having underestimated how easily he could downplay it. “Jacky’s got a hickey!” Alex started in a sing-song voice. I rolled my eyes and crossed the road to get back to my car. The whole way back, I couldn’t stop smiling at everything that happened. I was hoping to get out of there reconnected with my friends, but I came back with a boyfriend. Not even the thought of having to tell that one guy I was sort of seeing could bring me down. As I climbed into bed with my pajamas on, I shot Jack a quick text telling him that I was safe and sound. Not even a second later, I got a phone call from him. “What’s wrong?” I answered, thinking he maybe forgot something. “Nothing,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I love you.” “I love you,” I said back. We hadn’t directly told each other that again that night. “Okay, well, goodnight.” “Goodnight, Jack.” “I love you,” he said once again. “Can you shut up!” A muffled angry voice came from his side. “You shut up!” Jack snapped back. “Goodnight, Jack, go to sleep,” I told him one last time. “Goodnight.” And the phone call ended.

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