#have to give a script and characters breathing room. room to make mistakes!!! because this fucking obsession with

[seobnity]

⚉ characters: soul x reader

⤷(with rest of P1Harmony)

⚉ wc: 7,5k

⚉ genre: sci-fi theme, slight mystery, light humor, slight angst, comfort

⚉ theme: alien!soul, labworker!reader

⚉ warnings: mild language, mild medical situation, mentioned experimentation(?), unnecessary use of the words: plant, pot and workspace, kinda mentioned reader's height (reader is shorter than Soul)

⚉ a/n: welcome or welcome back! Phew, this story was a lot and I am still not sure how I feel about it. Like, I like it, I really do, but I don't know... Also thank you so much for reading, leaving a heart or even reblogging - it means a lot to me! If you see any mistakes, please feel free to kindly correct me ♡

"What is that?" You looked up from the papers scattered on your work table to see your two co-workers standing there, holding a big pot filled with soil but no plant. "Why are you bringing me a pot full of soil? That’s pretty wasteful." You stood up from your chair and passed by the table to be closer to the two men.

"There’s a plant in it too," said the younger one of the two. His name is Intak, and he is a technician in the botanic laboratory where you work as a botanist.

You knitted your eyebrows together at his statement because there was clearly no plant in the pot, only the wasted soil you still weren’t happy about. You would need to have a talk with Keeho (you were pretty sure this is his work), your fellow co-worker in the laboratory, about his wasteful tendencies.

"Can we first put the pot somewhere, please?" said the older of the two, immediately grabbing your attention. "It's quite heavy, and it's starting to slip from my hands," he added, clearly struggling to hold the pot any longer.

"Oh, of course! Sorry." You looked around your workspace, and when you found an empty spot in the left corner of the room, you pointed there. "You can put it there." You nodded to yourself and exhaled softly, still confused about the situation. If this was another one of Keeho's stupid jokes...

The two technicians brought the pot to the corner you had pointed to and placed it on the ground. Jiung, the older one, huffed a little while stretching his aching arms from carrying the heavy weight. On the other hand, Intak looked like it had weighed nothing to him.

"Okay, now..." You moved closer to them and the pot. "Can you explain where the plant is? Because I clearly see only soil. There isn't even a hint of a growing plant." You looked at the two, waiting for their explanation.

"It is there," Intak insisted. "It's just... invisible?" He didn’t sound certain himself, which made you believe that this was truly one of Keeho's jokes. He loved playing pranks on you, and these days, they were getting more and more ridiculous.

You let out a heartfelt laugh and shook your head. "You're terrible at acting, Intak." You patted him on the shoulder. "Next time, ask Keeho for a script if he wants the joke to work. This isn't convincing at all." You turned on your heels, ready to return to your seat and finish your work.

"He’s right, Y/N," Jiung said, making you stop in your tracks. You took a deep breath, ready to tell them that they didn’t have to keep up this stupid joke, but Jiung continued. "Just take a look at this."

You turned back to them, folding your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow in expectation. "Well?" You nodded, signaling that you were ready to see whatever they wanted to show you.

Jiung and Intak exchanged a look. Intak took a few steps back from the pot, and you had to suppress a chuckle at their persistence; you had to give them credit for not giving up so easily. Your gaze shifted from Intak to Jiung, who swallowed hard and slowly moved his hand towards where the plant should be in the pot. You would be lying if you said their ongoing act wasn’t starting to irritate you, but you took a deep breath and let them do whatever they had planned.

Jiung's hand suddenly stopped midair, and you saw his chest rise as he took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for something dangerous. You were about to say something—to urge him to hurry up or just drop this pointless joke already—but your words never left your lips. Your mouth hung open in shock as an iridescent glow appeared above the pot, taking the shape of a plant.

Jiung quickly pulled his hand back to his chest, as if the glow had burned him. Or maybe it had; or he was just scared of it which would be understandable.

You weren’t sure what was happening or what this thing was. Well... it was clearly a plant or, at least, the shape of one, but your mind couldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing, causing you to just stare at the iridescent glow above the pot. The glow soon disappeared, and you started to feel a burn in your eyes from not blinking, afraid you would miss something while the glow was still present. You finally blinked a few times to moisten your eyes again but kept your gaze fixed on the pot.

"What..." you paused, trying to gather your thoughts about what you had just seen. "What was that?" You asked and looked at Jiung, who had also moved a few steps back from the pot. You were surprised they were even willing to bring the pot into your workspace when they seemed so scared of it.

"That was the plant," Jiung said, while Intak immediately nodded his head to confirm Jiung's words. "It reacts like that to physical contact. It just starts to glow with all these colors and then stops after a few seconds." He looked at you, still holding his hand to his chest.

"Did it burn you?" You had to ask because the way he was holding his hand close to him was starting to look a little concerning. "Is it dangerous?" You took a step back—not because you were scared of the unknown plant, but because you were preparing to press the emergency button to put your workspace on lockdown if necessary.

Jiung shook his head and let his hand fall back to his side. "No, it didn’t burn me, and no, it’s not dangerous," he answered all your questions. "At least... that's what Keeho said," he added, and you nodded while biting down on your bottom lip in thought.

"Where even is he?" you asked after a moment of silence, not really knowing what else to do. The poor technicians knew only as much as Keeho had told them about the plant, which was just that it glowed upon being touched— and that wasn’t much information, not for you. "Keeho, I mean."

You were already angry at Keeho, for thinking this was just one of his jokes that he was willing to waste so much soil for, but you became mad, almost furious, at him (even if he is absent). He left all this work on these two technicians and didn’t even explain anything properly to them. If he is still somewhere in the facility, you are ready to have a talk with him.

"He was sent home because that plant triggered his allergies and they were bad." Intak was the one who answered your question this time. "Like... really bad. Eyes bloodshot red and puffy, like his whole face, and a runny nose. Never saw someone produce so much snot." He had to emphasize how bad the allergies were.

Oh, so that’s why they brought the plant to you; it was now your responsibility. Thanks, Keeho. If he had at least left you notes or came to you before he left, but you understood he had to go home if he had such a bad reaction to this plant.

"Gross." You scrunched your nose at Intak's description. Though, you were kind of sad you couldn’t see that with your own eyes and maybe get some pictures for future blackmail. You then let out a little exhale. "Did he tell you anything else other than it reacts to a touch with that glow?" you asked them, hoping you'd get more information, which you doubted you would.

They both shook their heads and you pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Of course, he didn’t say anything else to them, but maybe he actually didn’t find anything else out about this plant because he had to leave. It still left you mad regardless.

"No, wait," said Jiung suddenly, catching your attention. "He also said it shouldn’t get wet." He told you a new piece of information that left you even more confused about this plant than you already were.

"And how am I supposed to take care of the plant?" You furrowed your eyebrows, placing your hands on your hips like you were ready to scold a child for doing something they weren’t supposed to. "And another question, why can't I get it wet?"

The two technicians exchanged a look once more, and you slumped your shoulders in defeat with a sharp exhale. It wasn’t their fault they didn’t know anything about it—this wasn’t even their job to begin with. They were just following Keeho’s instructions, despite the lack of information. But you couldn’t even be mad at Keeho because he had a bad reaction to the plant and had to be urgently sent home. Still, he could have left some notes, but Keeho never did things the way he was supposed to. Like, how did he even know it couldn't get wet? There should have been notes about that.

"Sorry," you said in a softer voice. "I know you two know as much as I do, which is nothing." You shook your head and wet your lips. "You can go, this isn’t your concern anymore." You looked at both of them with a small smile.

"Good luck with... that plant," Jiung said, glancing briefly at the "empty" pot before quickly looking back at you. "Hope you have some luck figuring out what’s going on with it." He gave you a nod. You nodded in return, and he walked to the door to exit your workspace.

"Yeah, good luck," Intak said with a big smile as he followed Jiung. Though, just before stepping into the hallway, he stopped and turned back to you. "I'll send you pictures of puffy Keeho. It’s hilarious," he added with a small chuckle.

Your eyes widened in happiness. "You have pictures?" Your voice dropped to a whisper, as if someone might overhear. Intak nodded in response, and you couldn’t hide your smile anymore. "Great, thank you."

Intak then left, and you were alone with that plant—no knowledge or notes about it. Your gaze was fixated on the pot with the invisible plant, and your mind tried to think about what to do with it and, more importantly, where and how to start your investigation. You then remembered Jiung's action and decided to try it for yourself. But first, you made sure you had a paper and a pen close to you so you could immediately write down any reaction, feeling—simply anything—surrounding the plant.

Once you noted where everything is, you reached into a pocket of your lab coat and took out a pair of gloves. While putting one on, you wondered if it would react differently to the glove than it did to skin, so you decided to leave your other hand bare. Putting the other glove back into the pocket of your lab coat, you moved closer to the pot and stopped right in front of it.

"Okay, here goes nothing," you mumbled to yourself and touched the space where you thought the plant should be with your bare hand first. You immediately, out of pure instinct, moved your hand back when the iridescent glow appeared again, revealing the outline of a plant.

Jiung was right—it didn’t burn. In fact, it didn’t do anything to you, but the fear of the unknown or unexpected can make your body react on its own, and you can’t stop it.

You watched it carefully, counted in your head how long it showed its iridescent beauty, and when the glow disappeared, you quickly grabbed a pen and wrote it down. That's how it's supposed to be done, Keeho! When you finished writing, you turned your attention back to the plant.

"Just one more touch, and I'll leave you alone. I need to test something," you told the plant, as if it could hear whatever you were saying, which made you shake your head at how ridiculous you were being. But after working with plants all the time, it had become a habit to talk to them—even if it made you look a little crazy.

You then touched it with the hand covered in a glove, and the plant had the same reaction. Just to be sure, you counted again how long it would show its outline, and when it disappeared, you wrote it down on a paper with the previous information. You tapped the table with your pen after noting it and bit your bottom lip in a thoughtful manner. After a while, you took a deep breath and went back to your table to continue the work that was still waiting for you.

Of course, you wanted to explore this invisible plant, but you had other things to focus on first—things that were more important than this unknown species that Keeho was actually supposed to take care of but had to leave behind.

And then, a thought crossed your mind. How did Keeho know that it couldn't get wet? Had he perhaps already examined it but, because he didn’t take notes right away (wouldn’t be surprising), it wasn’t documented? Or was watering it the first thing he did, and somehow that triggered his allergies? Though, that seemed very unlikely.

You stood up, leaving your work unattended again, and went to the pot. On your way there, you grabbed a spray bottle filled with water and prepared yourself to do the only thing you were told not to do—spray it with water to get it wet.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you were about to do, and gave the plant a few good sprays. To your disappointment, nothing happened. There wasn’t even an iridescent glow when the water touched it. Furrowing your eyebrows, you put the spray bottle away and made a note along with the previous ones, that water does nothing to it.

"Don’t get it wet, sure, Keeho," you mumbled to yourself, a little irritated because you expected something to happen—just anything; maybe even your allergies to strike, even though you don’t have any. "You probably forgot to take your allergy pills and got in touch with pollen," you said while rolling your eyes and going back to your table to finish the rest of your work.

Sadly, while doing your work, your mind kept wandering to the plant, and you stole a few glances at it from time to time, which made you work slower. That was also the reason why you left the laboratory late at night.

After finishing, you cleaned up a little, took care of a few necessary things, put your coat on the hanger near the door, and left your workspace. You closed the door behind you, locked it, and finally went home and to your awaiting soft bed.

The next day, you came back to work as usual. On your way to your office—your workspace—you greeted other coworkers you met along the way. When you arrived in front of the door, you took out the key, unlocked it, and went inside. You closed the door behind you and took your lab coat from the hanger so you could put it on, just like you always do.

As you walked towards the desk at the back of the room, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. You stopped in your tracks and looked to the side where you thought you saw something.

To your surprise, your mind wasn’t playing any tricks on you—you saw a boy there. "Who are you?!" You jumped slightly at his presence and took a step back. "How did you get in here?!" You quickly scanned the room to remind yourself where you exactly stood and to see where the emergency button was before shifting your gaze back to him, staying alert to his movements.

The boy stared back at you with a frightened look, mirroring the one on your own face. You also noticed that he was covering his ears because of your raised voice. This made you feel slightly less cautious about him being dangerous, but you still remained on guard. Let's be real—seeing a person in your workspace, which had been locked from the outside, was pretty scary and suspicious.

"I'm sorry, I won't raise my voice anymore," you said, a little more composed. "Can you tell me how you got into my office? It was locked..." You looked at the windows behind the boy, but they weren’t broken either. But... how would he even have gotten in here through a window if your office was on the fifth floor?

You watched the boy carefully and waited for his answer, but he never gave you one. He just looked so scared and lost, watching you with this hurt puppy look while still covering his ears— probably afraid you might scream again.

You exhaled softly and realized this boy would definitely not hurt you, but you still kept your distance from him. "Can you understand me?" you asked because maybe he didn’t know what you were saying, which might be one of the reasons why he was scared. The boy nodded his head slightly in a positive answer and there was suddenly a glimmer of hope for communicating with him.

"Can you put your hands down from your ears? I promise I won't hurt you. I just want to talk," you said to him and motioned with your hands for him to lower his.

The boy took a while, but he finally put his hands down by his sides. You gave him a small, friendly smile, which he returned, and that made you happy for some reason. Now, after calming down from the shock of seeing an intruder in your workspace, you finally noticed his appearance: blond hair that was a little longer at the back but still not touching his shoulders, slightly gray skin with a hint of green, an average height (but definitely taller than you), and the only thing covering him was a big oversized shirt.

But what caught your attention the most were his eyes. They were green, which was not an unusual color, but they had an iridescent hint in them and were glowing almost like... almost like the plant that was brought to you yesterday. You gazed at the corner where the pot with the plant was supposed to be and frowned slightly when you saw the pot was still there and intact. You couldn’t tell if the plant was still in the pot because of its invisibility, but you assumed it was. What you thought had happened—that the plant grew into the boy standing right in front of you—would have required a broken pot, at least in your mind it did.

You shook your head at the absurd thought and looked back at the boy. "Let’s sit down, okay?" You gave him another smile to keep him at ease and indicated with your hand to a chair that was behind your table. "I'll find you a blanket, you must be cold," you said more to yourself than to him, and that's also why you didn’t wait for his answer and went straight to the wall covered in one large bookshelf that held more than just books.

When you stood in front of the bookshelf, you got on your knees and looked through the bottom shelves, where there should be at least one blanket. Luckily, you found one, took it out, and rose back to your feet so you could give it to the boy; you'll have to find him some clothes eventually.

The said boy was seated on the chair you told him to sit on, which made you relax even more because he truly understood what you were saying. You came closer to him and put the blanket over his legs, then you took a few steps back to give him space. You, for sure, didn’t want to scare him again when he was now relaxed too and looked like he was ready to answer your questions.

"So..." you started to let him know that you'd now ask some things to make some peace in your mind. "I think we should start with something easy. What is your name?" You asked your question, which wasn’t that important to you, but you wanted to start slowly so he would open up more with each question you asked.

The boy pointed at himself, and you nodded, waiting for his answer. The boy, instead of answering, looked around to search for something. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion but didn’t say anything. You first wanted to see what he was trying to do before you interfered.

He searched the table and reached for a pen and an open notebook that was lying there. You still didn’t stop him or say anything, just watched him. The boy clicked the pen open and started to write in the notebook, then he showed you what he wrote.

Soul.

Soul. That must be his name. "Is that your name?" you asked just to confirm your thought. He nodded positively as an answer and pointed at you. "You want to know my name?" It was obvious that that’s exactly what he wanted to know, but you had to ask just to be sure. He nodded again. "My name is Y/N," you answered him.

He, for some reason, didn’t look very pleased. But before you could ask what was wrong, he handed you your notebook with the pen and an almost demanding look. It took you a second, but you eventually understood what he wanted, you took the things from him, and wrote down your name in the notebook. You then gave everything back to him so he could see how to read your name, perhaps? The boy looked at what you wrote, then looked back at you and, with a smile, waved his hand in greeting.

"Hi, it’s nice to meet you." You waved back at him with a gentle smile. "How..." You stopped mid-sentence and instead asked a different question. "You can’t speak?" Yes, you wanted to start with easy questions, but all of his behavior—writing to communicate, hand gestures, and the way he looked so focused when you were talking—caught your attention, and you had to know.

The boy nodded his head, confirming that he, in fact, couldn’t speak. He placed the notebook with the pen back on the table and, after that, pointed at his mouth and ears. Then he made an X with his pointer fingers to let you know he couldn’t speak or hear. You nodded your head slowly, understanding what he meant, but then you furrowed your eyebrows.

"You can’t hear?" Upon finding out he couldn’t hear either, you pointed with one hand to your ear and then made an X sign with your whole arms. Once again, he confirmed it with a nod. "But..." you paused, your brows still tightly furrowed.

Your mind went back to the moment you saw him for the first time and the way you both reacted; you asked valid questions in a raised, panicked voice, and he covered his ears because of it—or was that not the case?

"Why did you cover your ears earlier when you can’t hear?" You were talking a little slower and trying to articulate better because it looked like he could read lips, and you wanted to make it easier for him. "I thought you were scared of the loud noise I made." You needed to know the reason why he did that—your curiosity was tingling like crazy.

He shook his head, grabbed the pen and notebook again, and started to write his answer. It took him a while this time because he needed to explain himself, which can sometimes be hard to even say out loud, so writing it must be worse. Eventually, he showed you his written answer.

It wasn’t because of the noise you made; I couldn’t hear that. I was told that when someone sees you and is scared of you, you’re supposed to show your hands so they don’t think you are holding something to harm them. So I showed you my hands, but you still looked scared of me, and I didn’t know what else to do. And... you didn’t show your hands, and I was scared too.

"You were told that?" You looked at him, confused and still very curious. "By whom? Who told you this?" If he was told something like that, it means he already met someone from your world, assuming he is from a different one.

He turned the notebook back to him and started writing. This time, it was a short answer—very short, actually—and he soon revealed it to you.

"Keeho?" You widened your eyes after reading his answer. "You know Keeho? How?"

He started to write his answer again, and you had time to think about all of this. If he knows who Keeho is, that means Keeho really found out something more about the plant that he never told anyone. He even lied to Jiung and Intak about his knowledge. Yes, these two are only technicians but still... You need to see if Keeho is back at work today and have a serious talk with him because this is not okay. The boy, Soul, soon turned the notebook back to you for you to read his answer.

I was at home, on my planet, when there was suddenly a strong wind. When I turned around, I saw a portal—that’s how Keeho called it—and he was on the other side of it, staring at me. I was doing the same thing, but my curiosity got the best of me, and I went through, ending up right in front of Keeho and a room that looked a lot like yours, but his had more stuff.

This confirmed it. Keeho found something about the plant he never told anyone about and probably never intended to speak about either. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have lied and given instructions about not watering the plant so you wouldn’t find out about this boy from another planet. Well, shame on Keeho that he didn’t took into account that you take your work seriously and wanted to know the reason why the plant shouldn’t get wet. That’s how you assumed the portal was created in the first place, and it may have disappeared with the plant absorbing all the water.

"How long have you known Keeho?" You had a lot of other questions to ask, but you decided it would be wiser to ask Keeho himself rather than this poor boy, who needed to write long answers every time you asked him something. "Fourteen days." You read out loud when he showed you the notebook again.

Keeho had been working on the plant and researching it for two weeks—investigating this boy from a whole other planet—and he never said a word to anyone. You understood why he never did, but also... this was so dangerous, and anything could have gone wrong. He should have said at least something to you; you thought Keeho trusted you.

One part of you felt a little betrayed, but the other truly understood his actions, even if they weren’t exactly correct and broke many rules of the laboratory you both worked in. In the end, you would probably have done the same thing (but you would for sure let Keeho know—that’s the only difference you would make).

You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath to calm yourself down. Once you opened your eyes again, you wanted to continue asking questions, but you noticed a change in Soul's expression and specifically his eyes. Instead of that glow they had, they started to look dull; like a star that is losing its shine.

"Are you okay?" you asked. "You don’t seem really... good." It was a weird thing to say because his appearance already made him look sick, but now something in your brain was telling you something was wrong.

Soul only shook his head slightly and placed the notebook with the pen on the table. He suddenly looked really weak and almost sleepy, which you couldn’t let happen. If he fell asleep, he might not wake up, and that was definitely not what you wanted because there was no way you could take him to a hospital.

"Soul..." You gently took his head between your hands so he would look at you while you were talking, ensuring he knew what you were saying. "Don’t close your eyes, okay? You can’t do that." You told him with a thick voice, even though he couldn’t hear the change in your tone. Soul gave you a small nod, and you took another deep breath. "I will call my friend here, and he will check up on you. Don’t worry, everything will be alright."

You let go of his face and took out your phone from your pocket. You quickly found the contact you were looking for and dialed the number. It felt like an eternity before your call was picked up, but in reality, it was only three rings.

"Theo?" you asked like you weren’t the one calling him. "Can you please come to my office? Like... right now?" You asked immediately because there was no time to waste—not in this situation that could go horribly wrong at any second.

You called your friend and coworker from the laboratory, Theo. He is a doctor here in case something happens and medical assistance is needed. Luckily, he isn’t needed much (everyone always tries to be as careful as possible with their projects), but it's good to have him here because you never know what could possibly happen.

"Yes, I can." He said exactly what you wanted to hear. "Did something happen? Are you alright?" You could hear him grabbing some stuff—probably his bag with all his equipment that he might need.

"Just come here as fast as you can," you told him. "It's hard to explain over the phone," you added before ending the call. It wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but you didn’t want to waste time talking and answering his questions. You would answer everything later, after he checked on Soul and made sure he is alright.

You put your phone back into your pocket and turned your attention back to Soul, who was just sitting on the chair, his gray skin (the hint of green now barely noticeable) looking even grayer, which you thought couldn’t be possible. But at this point… if there was a boy from a whole different planet sitting on your chair in your office, who came out of a portal created by a plant... anything could actually be possible.

Luckily, Theo arrived within ten minutes, thanks to a fast elevator. "I’m here. What's going on?" he asked as he came closer to you, checking for any injuries, assuming you were the one who was hurt. "Where... Who is that?" Theo’s eyes widened when he saw Soul sitting on your chair.

"I promise I will explain everything, though I don’t know much myself, but can you check on him first, please?" You gave him a pleading look because you were truly worried about Soul's well-being. "He just… he doesn’t look good. I can't tell you more, I just… oh god." You stopped rambling and instead took a deep breath. You had no idea how to explain to Theo that Soul looked sick—you could just see it on him.

"Yeah, he’s gray. That’s usually not a good sign for anyone," Theo said, pointing out the obvious, which made you roll your eyes. You didn’t have time for his snarky remarks, definitely not now.

"Check on him. Now." You spoke in a stern voice, and Theo immediately realized this was not the time to be playful or joke around.

"Okay, I will." He nodded. "But I think it would be better if we take him to my office. We can lay him down on a bed, and I can examine him better there." He adjusted the bag with his equipment on his shoulder so he could help you with Soul.

"Yeah, that sounds good." You wet your bottom lip out of nervousness and turned back to Soul to explain what was going to happen so he wouldn’t be frightened by you two suddenly moving him. "Soul?" You gently took his face between your palms so he would look at you. "My friend and I will take you to his office, okay? I promise nothing will happen to you, he just has a bed there that you can lay on." You gave him a small smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice how scared you were for his well-being.

Soul, once again, only gave you a small nod, and you exhaled softly. After that, you let go of his face, took the blanket from his lap, and placed it around his shoulders. You'll have to go through the hallways and elevator to get to Theo’s office, which means you’ll meet other workers on the way, and you don't want them to have any unnecessary questions. But they will for sure look at you two weirdly when they see you and Theo dragging a boy with a gray skin with you.

"Me on one side, you on the other?" asked Theo, to which you only nodded and already took one of Soul's hands, placing it over your shoulders. Theo mimicked your actions, and on the count of three, you helped Soul stand up.

You were expecting him to be heavy—he is a male, after all—but to your surprise, it didn’t even feel like you were holding him. You quickly made a mental note about this piece of information so you could later write it in your notes from yesterday. Even Theo looked surprised by this, but he kept his questions for later, guessing this revelation shocked you too.

Together with Theo, you managed to get Soul into his office without any obstacles, which you prayed for to happen because explaining anything to anyone wouldn’t be best at the moment. Of course, you met a few of your colleagues on your way, but they only gave you three a quick glance or didn’t even pay you any attention—the best scenario you could ask for.

"Theo, here you are!" said a person who was clearly waiting for the doctor—a person you wanted to punch in the face right here, right now. "I wanted to ask you if you coul—" Keeho stopped talking when he finally turned to face you all. "Soul?!" His eyes widened with fear, and he was quickly in front of the poor alien boy.

"You know him?" Theo furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you, then at Keeho, who was holding Soul's face between his hands just like you did a few times in your workspace.

Instead of answering him, Keeho looked at you, and you could see both fear and anger in his eyes. "You watered the plant?!" His voice was louder than it usually was because of the anger rising in him. And that made you angry too. "That was the only instruction I gave those two. Tsk, of course they would forget to tell you." He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Hey, Jiung and Intak did and said everything you told them to do and say." You didn’t like that he was blaming the two poor technicians who hadn’t done anything wrong.

"Wait..." He looked a little puzzled at your words. "You mean to tell me that you watered the plant even when I strictly said you can’t do that?!" He raised his voice even more. "I didn't know you were that stupid, Y/N." He scoffed.

"I am not stupid, Keeho. You just didn’t give enough information for me to go off of because your lazy ass is not responsible enough to make proper notes!" You snapped back at him. How could you have known that watering an invisible plant would cause so much drama? If he had proper notes, your curiosity wouldn’t have gotten the best of you, and this wouldn’t have happened.

Before Keeho could say something back, Theo intervened between you two. "Can you two leave it for later? We have a bigger problem to deal with." He nodded his head towards Soul, who looked even paler and weaker than he had just a few minutes ago. "I hope you know what's going on with him, Keeho?" He looked at the man mentioned.

Keeho looked back at Theo and nodded. "Yeah," he said, a little calmer, but the fear mixed with anger could still be heard in his voice. "He needs to go back to his planet immediately." He gave you a look that clearly said this was all your fault. You wanted to say something back but held it in you this time.

"Great, so we need to go back," Theo said with such clear sarcastic happiness. "Fantastic." He let out a deep exhale. "I will at least put away my bag because it's clear I won't need it. Can you take his side for me?" he asked Keeho, who agreed.

They exchanged places, so now Keeho was holding Soul up alongside you, while Theo put his bag away. He then took some sheets from the bed he had there, wrapped them around Soul's legs, and tied them around his waist so his legs were also covered. It might cause fewer looks from others you would pass on your way back. Though, seeing three people basically dragging a body would get looks no matter what. With that done, you went back to your office.

"How are we gonna get him back to his planet?" Theo asked, unable to hold back the questions any longer. "How did he even get in here? Does it have something to do with water and a... plant?" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

This was all too much for him to comprehend because he was just a doctor in the lab for light injuries and other medical needs. He had no idea about plants, but he was sure that plants couldn’t take you to a different planet. That was just... crazy. But on the other hand, he is working in a laboratory where all kinds of creations are coming to life (which sometimes isn’t good, but that's not what we're here for today).

"Can we not discuss this in the hallways?" You said as you passed a group of your colleagues who seemed way too interested in what was going on, but luckily, they didn’t stop to ask.

"Whoa, I didn't expect you to come up with something smart, Y/N." Keeho just couldn’t hold back and had to make his remark, still pissed at you for watering the plant.

"Keeho, just save it, will you? You two can fight later after we're done." Theo said angrily. "We need to help this boy, or alien, or a plant... whatever he is." He exhaled, frustration written all over his face.

Keeho, oddly enough, shut his mouth, and all of you continued on your journey to your workspace. Luckily, you made it there without any unnecessary comments from your colleagues or Keeho himself.

When you stepped inside, Theo closed the door behind you while you and Keeho helped Soul onto the chair he had been sitting on before. You stayed by Soul's side, still keeping a steady hand on him because he looked like he wouldn’t be able to hold himself upright any longer, and you didn’t want him to fall on the floor.

"So, will you now tell me how we’re gonna get him back?" Theo asked his question again, watching Keeho, who was pouring water into a bucket.

"We need to water the plant." Keeho gave him a simple answer, which seemed to confuse Theo even more, but he decided not to ask any more questions; he hadn’t signed up for any of this, after all.

"Water the plant... sure." He nodded and shook his head a little. Poor doctor—this must be a lot, and he had already seen some crazy stuff here in the lab, but this one... This one was extra, even for you. "That’s easy."

"Yeah, it is easy but it takes a lot of time for the portal to show up." You said, stroking Soul's hair in a calming manner without you even realizing it. 

"A portal?" Theo raised his eyebrows but then shook his head again. "Of course there is a portal." He sighed. "I don't think I want to know more about this anymore."

"It doesn’t take a lot of time." Said Keeho and went to the plant with a bucket full of water. You gave Keeho a questioning look so he would explain himself further. "You just sprayed the plant with water, right?" He asked you and you nodded in agreement. "It needs a lot of water for it to show the portal immediately. You, just spraying it, activated the process, but it took longer for the portal to show up." he explained.

Yeah, that made sense because when you sprayed the plant with water yesterday, nothing happened and you were in your office for some time after that too and you didn’t see any change. The portal must have shown up when you were already gone from the lab and poor Soul thought it's Keeho so he went through the portal and got stuck here until you found him today. You looked down at Soul and let out a deep exhale; he must have been so scared...

Without any other word from either of you, Keeho poured the whole bucket into the pot that was still standing in the corner. After he was done, he put the bucket down and went to you and Soul so you two could get ready to carry him again and help him through the portal back to his home.

As Keeho said, the portal showed up immediately. "Y/N, c'mon." Keeho nudged you a little because you kept staring at the open portal to another planet. But let's be honest, who wouldn’t stare? It all felt so unreal even when experiencing it all right now at this moment.

"Yeah, sorry." You said quickly and with Keeho's help, you moved Soul back on his feet and went to the opening of the portal with him to help Soul inside. "Oh, who is that?" Your eyes widened when you saw another boy with the same grey skin and glowing eyes as Soul has but instead of blond hair, he had orange hair and he had a worried expression on his face.

"That's Jongseob, Soul's brother." Keeho gave you an answer you did not expect but you didn’t ask further; there will be time for that later and also a lot of explaining to Theo still needs to be done too.

So you simply nodded your head and got Soul close to the portal. His brother, Jongseob, took it from there and helped Soul back to his planet. When Soul stepped in, he immediately had a better look and looked healthier again which made your heart at ease. Even his eyes were glowing again, how they are supposed to.

Now, you also fully understood Keeho's decision in not telling anyone anything about the plant that creates a portal into a different planet; he was just protecting Soul and his brother from the harms that humans can do to the unknown.

Jongseob's concerned face now turned into one full of anger and annoyance (probably at his brother's disappearance), but Soul paid him no mind. He looked back at all three of you through the portal and waved at you with a big smile. You couldn’t help it and did the same thing, just like Keeho and Theo, surprisingly.

It didn’t take long, and the portal disappeared, which answered another question you had in your head: why didn’t Soul return back when he noticed he wasn’t in Keeho's office and that Keeho was not even around? The portal must have been gone before he even realized all of that.

"Holy shit..." you could hear Theo mumble. "I thought I'm gonna treat some cuts when you called me and not help an alien boy back to his planet." He still couldn't believe anything that had just happened. "I need to take a vacation after this."

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at his words. But you wouldn’t describe it better if you were in his place, that’s for sure. You then turned to Keeho, who was now looking at you with a softer face, knowing Soul is safe and sound back on his planet, and gave you a knowing nod, which you returned. It was a silent communication that meant you'd have to talk about this and possibly work on this plant together.

But for now, you both turned your attention to Theo, who started to bombard you with questions he had been holding back for a very long time; and here goes his words that he doesn’t want to know more. Curiosity is an interesting thing.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @elsie-writes! This, uh, is an old one lol

Five Lines Tag

My lines:

A sad line

A line about a book/reading

A line about fighting

A fun line

A line about hopes and dreams

I'll pull from End Times :)

A Sad Line

Like a hive of bees, the Heralds set to work immediately with their chisels and black paint. End turned its back to them and, by Izjik’s guess, began inspecting another tunnel as its route out. However, its position gave her a clear view of those who had fallen to the chaplain’s muskets. Her heart dropped as she caught sight of round spectacles speckled with blood.

No, no, no, don’t do this to me, kid, she pleaded. Solane lay prone, bleeding from a shot to her knee. Izjik barely contained her prayer of relief as she noticed the girl was still breathing. It must’ve been a glancing shot if her leg was still attached.

Yet, no one tended to her, or the other, more severely injured. Those who could walk were patched up quickly, but anyone unable to move was left where they’d fallen. There was no room for stragglers in End’s grand march.

There was nothing Izjik could do—no words she could say to sway her captor that wouldn’t just make things worse for her or the cultists. Solane couldn’t survive a wound like that unaided, though she might last an excruciatingly long time down here in the dark with her waterskin and cook’s supplies.

Spirits, girl, I’m so sorry, Izjik cried silently. At least she was unconscious now. Perhaps she would stay that way until the end.

A Line About A Book/Reading

“Pasty, you’re never going to believe what I found!”

Grinning madly, the Amaranthi set a stack of stone tablets on the table. Twenari gasped softly as she took in the geometrical, chisel-wrought script. How had the Devarises gotten their hands on those?

His face unreadable, Sepo ran his fingers across the siren tablets. Djek put his hand on the man’s shoulder with a smile.

“I can’t read siren, but I know we’re looking for major centers of religion, so I figured there’d be something about that in these things,” he said.

Sepo shuffled through the tablets, seeming to skim their titles. Twenari examined the ones he set aside. They weren’t bound or marked in any way—in fact, it seemed like each tablet was its own, contained volume. The script, though clearly made with a chisel, was breathtakingly intricate. Did each character of Llanaodan contain greater meaning than their Janazi counterparts? She figured they must, with such a constrained medium.

“You’re right,” Sepo finally admitted. “A fair few are religious. I’m not giving you credit for that though, because it’d be more impressive if you found nothing religious among siren writings. Even still, we already know the seat of siren religion—I grew up there for fuck’s sake.”

A Line About Fighting

The man cried out as he sent a net of shadows flying towards End’s head, but it or Izjik knew the feint for what it was. It jumped over the hidden patch of sticky darkness lurking in its path before dropping into a roll just in time to avoid the net.

Djek sent forth a flurry of dark spears as he retreated. He needed to keep distance between them. However, that was pretty fucking hard when End reacted like it could see the spell before he even cast it. It dodged the needle-quick strikes with a bored fluidity.

Then, it was right next to him.

Djek blinked in surprise. He hadn’t even seen it move! That was all he was able to process before a fist drove into his solar plexus. He doubled over, coughing, only to realize his mistake too late.

The short selkie drove her knee into his chin—just like he’d seen her do a thousand times with taller opponents—and everything went white. He didn’t even have the air to cry out, the space of mind to make a sigil, before she stood him up again with a monster of an uppercut and proceeded to pummel his ribs like they owed her money.

Vision swimming Djek tried for a weak hook, but End caught his hand easily. It grinned with Izjik’s face.

“You sorcerers….” It tisked disapprovingly. “All bluster from fifty feet away. But up close you’re nothing.”

A Fun Line

“Nah dude, you got thrown through a stone balcony like three days ago. Keep watch. I might not be some country bumpkin, but how hard can finding sticks in a forest be?”

Somewhere in the dark, Djek caught a glimpse of abyssal eyes narrowed into something almost like appraisal. The Amaranthi found it highly telling that Sepo hadn’t just told him to bite it immediately. He was probably worse off than either human suspected—not that he’d admit it on pain of death.

“Look for dry wood in a variety of sizes,” Sepo acquiesced with a sigh.

Djek smothered a giggle. “And I’ll bet you’re an expert at looking for dry wood in a variety of sizes, huh?”

A twig flew out of the darkness and impacted his forehead. “You’re a child.”

“Avoid any Nabafyrian cedar,” Twenari added. Either the innuendo had sailed over the girl’s head or she just didn’t care. Honestly, it was a toss-up. “It can explode when exposed to intense heat.”

“That’s…. Sure, whatever. Exploding trees.” Djek cracked his knuckles with a sigh and began to make his way into the underbrush. “Run fast if you hear me scream.”

“The head start will be appreciated.”

“Run towards me, dumbass!”

A Line About Hopes And Dreams

What would his family say? It’d been even longer since he’d thought of them and even longer still since he’d seen them. But even so… Djek pictured a tiny, rickety apartment in Fayuki’s industrial district. It was filled with grime from the air outside and noisy with the sound of too many mouths and not enough food. He pictured his mother’s rusty eyes and his father’s murky hazel. Out of all his siblings, Djek had been the only one born with eyes of true, Amaranthi crimson.

They would die if he failed, those who probably weren’t dead of starvation or industrial accidents or redlung already. Sure, everyone else would die, too. Sepo and Twenari, Izjik and Daedryn, all of the dozens of Devarises and rowdy Nacians and sirens battling under the waves.

Even so, Djek couldn’t help but imagine his big sisters Kiva and Kana, one with her gap-toothed grin and the other with her corny jokes, watching the stars fall from the sky. He wondered if little Vanik had ever managed to get the food he needed to grow taller than the rest of his siblings, if Shon and Avra had ever gotten out of the city like they’d planned. Would they all have to watch the seas boil and the sun burn out? Watch the blood of gods drip down like so much rain?

Maybe after all of this was over—if he still lived by then—Djek would pay them a visit. He’d hated his parents after they’d abandoned him, almost as much as he’d hated himself for being the child they chose to sacrifice to the streets. But his siblings had played no part in that. It wasn’t fair to lump them in with the snarl of emotion he felt whenever he looked back on his childhood.

Ah, nothing like an incoming apocalypse to make you work through your family trauma.

He would, Djek decided. When this was all over, he would go back to Fayuki—dressed to the nines, marks of a god on his hands, and flanked by his best friends, who just happened to be three of the most terrifying bastards this side of the Oresea. He would find his family’s home and waltz in for dinner.

I'll tag @rivenantiqnerd @kuebiko-writing @pluppsauthor @elizaellwrites and anyone else who wants to play :)

Your lines:

A line about friendship

A line with a lie

A line about fighting

A line about the weather

A line about determination

[chatterfox-cafe]

MY RETROSPECTIVE ON THE MOVIE SONIC THE HEDGEHOG 3

On February 7th, I watched the third Sonic Movie with my best friend Mags. We’ve watched the previous 2 together in past years, and make no mistake in that we both kind of thought they sucked, but I just couldn’t help but hide myself away from all spoilers/info and to hold hope in my heart for this newest installment in spite of all the past errors made by the filmmakers because like… There’s not a lot of room for you to bungle Shadow’s backstory. The old cartoon Sonic X knew this when they adapted the game Sonic Adventure 2 to screen, they often went in wild directions (mech anime 3rd season???) but for that story they kept closely to the script outlines.

The idea of seeing the tragic ups and downs of Shadow’s story on the big screen in contrast to the “silly” adventures of the past 2 films was just gonna be a breath of fresh air I know it…. AND IT WAS!!! I actually really loved this film….. 💖

First off, I’m going to get into how it improved on the previous installments of the series or how it (regretfully) charted the same course in some places.

-The opening scene was a BANGER. Already it peaked my interest in a way no previous scene in the trilogy had…. -IT FEELS MORE LIKE THEY’RE LEARNING TO LEAN MORE INTO THE SONIC LORE OF EARTH JUST HAVING THIS WEIRD ALTERNATE GOVERNMENT AND MILITARY… Although the amount of explanation for G.U.N. activity in the movie still leaves a lot to be desired just like it also did in the past two movies. -I loved the appearance of the different environments and set-pieces that were explored in this movie… The military bunker in the flashback with the 70s theme was so good. -Hearing Idris Elba Knuckles again after so long to where I’ve forgotten most of the second movie had me like…. Good voice actor, but why’d they make him play his character like this. It feels like to the movie-makers the way he talks is just one long joke that they're over-my-shoulder expecting me to laugh at but I don't have the same brain chemistry as them in seeing it as a joke. (I was also going to wonder how they made an entire TV series around this character, but looking up more about that series apparently he isn't even much of a character in it...) -More just blatantly visible gay pining between Stone & Robotnik… Mags was as much of a freak about this part as me LMAO. -Mags also brought up that the pacing for the story felt weird, and I didn’t notice at first because I was riding the high of this movie, but I agree it does kind of feel weird the way story transitions so quick away from Sonic in the start straight into the main plot. (More thoughts on the plot later) -Yessss feed me with actual Sonic game references instead of your scenes focusing on your human OCs making racist cop jokes…. THE CHAO GARDEN & SHADOWS GUN & MOTORCYCLE SCENES WENT CRAZY…. (I also saw that slick biolizard reference y’all did…) The sonic fan in me was geeking out so hard throughout this entire movie…. -NOOO THERES STILL SO MANY SCENES OF YOUR HUMAN OCS MAKING RACIST COP JOKES….

Suffice it to say that I’m one of those people that thinks the human casts (barring Robotnik+Co & GUN) only ever drag down these movies and don’t add anything positive to them… If you the reader thought they were alright, that’s fine by me. Sonic in the way they’re telling this story inevitably needed to meet humans and make the journey he does with them, but I’m just always left wondering on if they really needed to feature them as heavily as they did considering it takes away so much time that could be used for character development and backstory of the actual animal characters of the franchise. Like people are filling the movie theater seats FOR these animated animal characters, but it feels like the filmmakers are insecure about that fact and want to highlight humans (and the Office-ass comedy scripts they give them) to try and give the movie more of a “mass market appeal”.

WELL… That criticism of mine sunk the past two movies for me in terms of enjoyment, but somehow it didn’t manage to ruin this third movie for me even still….

And that’s because the sheer -presence- of Shadow the Hedgehog in this film blasted me away in my seat. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ON HOW HE WAS DONE IN THIS MOVIE….

His introduction gives a good amount of mystery to his character and I enjoy how the movie treats the viewer as if they’ve never seen this character in action before now, which is a no-brainer but I feel like would be an easy mistake for adaptation movies to make. (When I think about Tails and Knuckles, maybe I’ve just forgotten most of the previous movie, but I do sorta feel like I still don’t know these people… so Shadow just comes out on top in having the fullest characterization here)

On that one GUN commander dying... An established character death added some edge which is needed for a Shadow movie, but that edge kept being utilized by the human characters and I’m like, leave some for our hedgehog boy….

SHADOW'S FLASHBACKS WERE EVERYTHING I WANTED…. So they actually are very starkly different from the games and reinvents Shadow’s story completely, fitting it into the movie’s context, but the way in which they did that actually works out well I think in comparison to the ways they tried to do this in the previous 2 films…. Shadow is an actual alien like Sonic, but their whole thing is they mirror eachother in terms of who found them, with one family being loving and caring and the other being cold and scientific, until Maria… (Sonic Adventure 2 does not explain the history between the animal characters and humans on earth At All from what I remember… I usually enjoy reinterpreting sonic lore as them not just being weird animal freaks but I can give it a pass here in how it makes the story flow) I WAS KIND OF SCARED TO SEE HOW THEY’D PORTRAY MARIA TOO BUT THEY DID A DECENT JOB… I really felt for Shadow and his relationship with her… The stars scennnne;;; 😭

Trying to remember the death scene, I think the one thing they changed is instead of a soldier just straight up shooting her in the back, she dies indirectly from an explosion before that can happen… (Feels like an arbitrary difference like they could have just done it the original way. But hey, if they did everything the original way then Gerald Robotnik would have been dead this entire movie because in the original lore he was executed by firing squad after finishing the eclipse cannon—) (They do atleast avoid SA2's storytelling trap there of Gerald having previously programmed all of Shadow’s evil behavior into him instead of Gerald just being an active influence in his decisions and world view…) (It makes Shadow’s journey and progress in doing the right thing at the end all the more powerful if it’s this way)

The final battle between Shadow and Sonic is really peak too… Sonic having pushed to the brink of anger and his paralells with Shadow being highlighted even more was really great to see there… The moon scene at the end was very special too… 💖

As for the Robotniks! Well! They were funny in this movie, but the near-universal criticism I see online is that they should have stopped being funny by the tails-end of the movie and I have to agree. Gerald just drops the facade and goes full nihilism mode but actually no he’s still goofy with it in his DNA— Bluhh.

AND THE UNCEREMONIOUSNESS OF GERALD’S DEATH… Dude got ctrl-z’d. I don’t think it would have been that way if they had a different actor portraying him, but since they were the same they were like “audiences are gonna hate us doing this for the same actor twice”. IDC MAN… I CAN SUSPEND MY BELIEF….

Also very funny to think about how they totally made the decision to kill off Robotnik here because his actor did NOT want to be in any future movies, but the studio DID want to do another sequel.

(I got another little criticism here at the end too in that the plot with the new head of GUN went nowhere, like she just showed up in one scene to get smacked into the floor by gravity and get tricked) (Literally every time she got tricked it felt like she was going to turn around and reveal she actually knew the plan anyways, but then she didn’t. LOL?) (she only gets to play one role in the film and that's to be a plot device making GUN the enemies of sonic the same way they are in SA2)

Amy cameo in the end btw and she’s so cuuuute… I love the wizard hood look for her so much. I’m not excited about there being more than one Metal Sonic for her to just wreck house with because that could possibly mean they don’t focus on Metal Sonic’s individual character and story in the next one… Also Metal Sonic is for sure going to be a creation of Agent Stone who is stepping up as the replacement villain.

Alright! I feel like I’ve pretty thoroughly typed my thoughts out on this movie so far, so I’ll end it here! Thank you for reading to the end! 💖 I love Sonic & I love Shadow~ ❤️💞💕💕

[bl00dh0rs3]

God. God. God. Holy fucking shit i love Avatar so fucking much

[beevean]

Honestly, while Michiru Yamane seems to be physically uncapable of composing a track that is less than great, I think I understood the reason why CoD has my favorite OST, even more than the highly popular (and also slappin’) SoTN

The tracks aren’t just well composed, and they don’t just have excellent instrumentation: I can picture perfectly Hector’s state of mind during the events.

Abandoned Castle isn’t just an “entrance” theme: usually entrance/first level themes are supposed to say “here’s your new badass protagonist, have fun!”, but this one sounds much more serious, the cold guitars and synth conveying Hector’s grief and determination to embark on his quest for revenge. The only other “character” themes that IMO convey the same level of emotions are An Empty Tome and Lament of Innocence.

Garibaldi Courtyard isn’t just a “cathedral” theme: the whole piece conveys awe at the place, but I also hear an unbearable sadness that I can’t even put into words. I can’t even connect it to the game, but it makes my heart swell and I am in love.

Forest of Jigramunt isn’t just a “forest” theme: the instruments paint a beautiful picture, of light shining through the foliage, but the intensity of the melody implies that Hector pays it no mind as he’s deadset on his vengeful mission, his anger tainting everything.

Cave of Jigramunt isn’t just a “cave” theme: while rather upbeat, the discordant chimes, deep choirs and strings manage to convey a “cursed” mood of a place you shouldn’t dwell in for too long. When you remember that this place hides a statue of the Evil God that gave Dracula his powers, it makes perfect sense.

Cordova Town isn’t just a “town” theme: the slow rhythm, the sound of the guitars, the thumping bass and the harshness of the synth (the same that plays in Abandoned Castle) don’t just fit the decrept look of the place, but also they make me imagine an exhausted Hector dragging his sword to the ground, only pushing forward because he has spotted Isaac in the distance.

Eneomaos Machine Tower isn’t just a “clock tower” theme: the piece starts with an elegant piano, but it gradually builds up to something more tense, until by the end of the loop the pressure of the journey is on Hector’s shoulders, who is literally forced to fight time. It’s also perhaps the only clock tower theme to feature a prominent clock sound, which helps the immersion. (special shout-out to the official rearrangement Narcisisstic Reflection; a better translation of the name could be “Recollection of Aestheticism”, and it fits how utterly beautiful and poignant it is)

Dracula’s Castle isn’t just a “final level” theme: after the harp intro, I keep picturing Hector throwing himself up the stairs, slashing all monsters without a second thought, heart racing because it’s all his fault, Dracula is back and it’s all his fault, Isaac played him like a fiddle, he can’t afford to make a single mistake now! (the fact that he sounds more guilt-ridden in the Japanese script makes me feel vindicated lol)

Insane Aristocracy isn’t just the theme of the fight against Isaac: it encapsulates his fury, violence and all-compassing madness, and the solo, that echoes the melody heard in the intro, barely gives more breathing room, to convey the tragedy of his situation. You could also choose to see it from Hector’s perspective, as he’s also enraged to fight his old friend, only to then realize “this is not him. This is not the Isaac that I knew. Something’s wrong. But I still must kill him”.

Legendary Belmont isn’t just the theme of the fight against Trevor: it’s the theme of Hector being petrified with fear as he realizes he’s locked in a room with the monster of a vampire hunter that slayed Lord Dracula, and wants him dead too. You can just feel the sheer panic and difference in power, thanks to the strings and the heavily distorted guitar.

Sarabande of Healing isn’t just a “shop” theme: it starts off as cozy and serene, because the place becomes like a little sanctuary for Hector, but then the celesta gives place to cellos, that you can choose to still see as cozy (I can see Hector resting in the chair as they play) or sorrowful, to paint Julia’s pain that she goes to great lengths to hide.

A Toccata in Blood Soaked Darkness isn’t just Dracula’s theme: it’s a seamless combination of Dracula’s imposing power and anger (the organs) and Hector’s determination to face him like a man this time (the drums), and the major chord midway through is a beacon of hope that Hector is now strong enough to defeat his old master. (side note, its older sibling Dark Night Toccata seems to go for the opposite approach: the organs fit Leon’s grief while the strings and drums fit Walter’s pompous, sadistic nature, and the piece is overall less hopeful. It’s interesting to compare the two, and LoI has a magnificent OST as well)

tl;dr i owe michiru yamane my whole life

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|eighteen.

chapter eighteen: yellow pansy ↳ flower meanings:  thinking of you.

chapter summary: you left a journal in his top drawer. pairing: tom holland x y/n warnings: haha you’re going to HATE ME word count: 11.5K

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

it took me ages write this, my writersblock was awful BUT IT’S HERE ! We are missing one more chapter but here it is! I hope you don’t hate me as much as I think you will, I split the ending in two chapters because it was LONG, so expect the final chapter in these days

Please help me out reblogging tags havent been working for me and I know this will flop but I’m really happy I got back into writing

You kept a journal. With flowers printed on them. Each and every single one was given by him. You had recently remembered it, wondering where in your room it could be. Hidden behind some other lost forgotten memories or some other unforgettable mysteries. You wondered if the flowers had kept their color. Most of them hadn’t.

“Well, here goes to the happily ever after,” you said as you smiled, even when the notebook was still roaming your mind.

Tim offered a gentle smile, watching carefully, as the white dress fell down.

When it comes to love stories, happy endings are what we wish for. Life, unfortunately, isn’t like that. But often we are bombarded with stories that are just too good to be true, enough for us to believe this. With them down the sunset on a white horse. With prince charming being charming enough.

With Mister Darcy as the sun is rising telling Elizabeth “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.”

With Donna and Sam getting married, and a bunch of friends singing Abba songs.

With Noah and Ally peacefully drifting off, hand in hand.

With Baby and Johnny Castle dancing together.

Characters that are but a reflection of our deepest dreams. Ones that are kept secret and shut for the world. With stories that make us believe we are happy.

It’s fine to shield in. But it’s no good to dwell on them.

We often don’t get what we wish for when we shield in a dream.

You wondered, what about Valerie and William?

Or… Tom and Y/n?

Your own story was supposed to be kept a secret, yet it ended up being a script and then a movie that would be seen by thousands. Your story transformed into a story people could shield on. A story that had been merely sentiments, then words and a very bad misunderstanding and… then a film.

Seeing yourself on someone else might have been what helped you understand it. Transforming your story into characters and trying to portray a love story that was born out of hatred… had probably been the first mistake.

If we can say it was ever a mistake. How big of a mistake can it be when it brings you so much joy?

Your luck hadn’t been enough for your own faith. But you always wondered, what happens after the happily ever after? Is it truly the outcome? When two souls find each other? Isn’t it only the beginning?

Valerie and William hadn’t had it.

The story ended with Valerie and Robbie getting together, it fit. That’s how the story had been driven. Tom and you had discussed it over and over, the story was written for Valerie to end up with Robbie.

“This is a story, y/n, it’s not us.” He had assured you. “We need to disconnect from it.”

And it wasn’t. It wasn’t you. But how much had those characters stolen from you?

How disappointing, but you made the decision along with them.

It had been painful to relive some things, and the changes to the script had been made to soothe the pain.

But they had a happily ever after. Separate ways.

Who would’ve thought you’d be so right?

Films and stories often end when marriage comes, or when the couple finally gets together, the happily ever after. You barely believed it was the ending.

Because the real journey began with it. Doesn’t it? Isn't the true adventure when they find each other?

When something goes wrong, though, it means the journey isn’t over. The happily ever after is the ending isn’t it? Isn’t the story over until after they’re happily ever after?

Love, though it might be one of the most precious things, often comes with a heartbreak. A tragedy. It didn't hurt this time, though.

But love, when it’s real, doesn’t seem like a loss even if it ends. Because, isn’t it the ending when they finally are together? If we follow that rule, that the ending is when they’re together then it wasn’t the ending.

Or was it?

You couldn’t help but wonder, however…What if you lived a lie? Just a fairy tale that wasn’t supposed to have a happily ever after.

Though the script was far from reality, you felt like your own story was twisted. Why weren’t you in your ‘happily ever after’?

Maybe the side story was yours. Because you were not the princess about to walk into the sunset.

“I really love the dress,” Tim commented.

You did too, but it had you wondering about happily ever after?

What happens to them after the credit rolls? What happens to the characters when the last page ends? Are those characters strong enough to keep together? Are their stories just dried out? Like flowers. Easily forgotten in a journal hidden in your room.

A bouquet that once served as a beautiful symbol now was scattered on top of the shelf, as a few petals fell down.

Flowers dry out.

“Yes, magnificent,” you answered.

The dress made you remember the day you thought it would last forever. That Tom and you would have that ever after. That it wouldn’t dry out.

Tom had only looked up at you, sitting finally on a director chair and he had smiled. Gently. Caring.

And that thought came to your mind. “I hope this lasts forever.”

And for a moment you thought it could. Maybe it was the endless smiles or the constant yellow flowers adorning your room that would end up on your journal.

But nothing ever does last forever. Not the good things. Not pancakes, or ice cream, or street hot dogs. Moments don’t last forever, that’s why you have to grasp to them.

And there was a point at which you knew, you knew it wouldn’t last forever. Because the film continues.

However, you liked to think that love was like a flower. One that grows. Not one that is cut to be given. A perennial one. One that blooms, and continues to bloom when it’s taken care of. But perennial flowers don’t bloom all the time.

A flower can’t bloom for eternity. And a cut flower will not preserve.

In stories and films, we know detail by detail. From the very first word, to the last breath. But when it comes to your own, you often forget what is important. We barely stop to see, and suddenly, life escapes from your hands and you’re stuck in a moment and you can’t get out.

Before you know it, all you’re left with is a script and a movie you can’t bear to watch because it brings too many memories. But good ones, that is. Mostly good.

Before you know it, you have a box with his stuff, and you’re texting to see when you have to drop them off. And before you know it, he is standing there, and you’re hoping he will beg for one last time because you will give it, but he never does, and stays quiet. Too quiet.

Not every love is perennial. Not every love is meant to bloom again.

Perennial flowers, when they bloom, are the most wonderful. But when they’re away, the skies are gray.

But somehow, we go through it. At least you tried to.

The ‘what if’ comes as something complicated. No pillow talks would’ve helped your case, it seemed like any smiles were now hidden under the bed.

It’s needless to say and regard the multiple emotions that had gone by in the relationship, that week it started or that month it finished. That year, if we are honest. That whole year of your relationship. And you had to look back at it. For it all started in a breakup, that had opened the door to be with the love of your life. It all started with a revenge.

It was weird to see it. How a year before you dated Tom, you would have gone with Tim. How you had expected it, how you thought Tim was the endgame. How that year Harry had asked if you would marry Tim and you’d answered that maybe you would.

How at some point you had considered it again. How you even considered Harry. But Tim.

Had Tim waited for a little bit longer, maybe things would’ve turned out quite different. You were thankful he hadn’t. Tim and you were a lesson to each other. Tim had shown you you can be loved and you had shown Tim he can love. Tim and you were fine now, he had found a girl. Lily. Her name was Lily. Purity. Rebirth.

Because, although it had seemed that Tim had died a little with your last conversation before officially letting him go, he had seen himself shine again. How surprising, her name was Lily. Such a coincidence.

Lily, a girl that could easily be passed by. Yet Tim had stopped to see her.

Tim and you would never share what you both said in that conversation. The last flower he had given you was a daisy. A secret between two friends.

Cherry and you went back to what you were before, strangers to each other. But she’d found a girl, by luck. Heather. She was happy now. Happiest.

A year had gone by. Many things had changed. Mostly you, and though you would look back to your past self and warn her that another heartbreak by Tom would be coming, you wouldn’t change it.

A breakup had opened many doors.

Maybe this one would too.

It was bound to come. How on earth were you supposed to grow flowers on a battlefield? But you’d built it together.

And you had. And everything was good, with sunsets and polaroids, and flowers. And fights that would cycle and cyle. But end up cuddling watching reruns of an old 80’s tv show that you barely watched because you were too busy staring into his eyes.

With old fights that would resurface and other secrets that kept chasing you both. But it was good, when you were trying to get the garden back into place, to try and forget the battlefield. Loving him had come so easily, though. Waking up by his side was taken for granted.

You had thought loving him would be a buzzing street, with crowds bustling as the rain is about to begin. You thought loving him would be a Friday night waiting for someone to show up but never did.

You were wrong.

Loving him was walking through a flower field, and taking a Polaroid of the most beautiful sunset. Loving him meant holding his hand and kissing over and over again.

But loving him meant that the sun eventually would set.

And maybe the heartbreak that had come with this one hadn’t been an actual heartbreak and maybe that’s why it hurt. Because it didn’t.

Maybe you’d forged a heartbreak or a relationship. Maybe that had been it, conning yourselves into believing you were fine when you were far from it.

Looking back maybe it was because of Rome, New York, and eventually LA. Cities that you once said you wouldn’t dare to go back to. But now you are willing to visit. Happily, it’s better to walk in a city full of memories rather than one pointless illusion of the memories you could’ve had.

He had gone to New York, and still took his Polaroid everywhere. A habit you loved about him, it seemed he became an expert on holding onto memories.

The breakup had come after James’ wedding. Lovely wedding, by the way. Fairytale full of wonder. A year ago, shortly after the film had premiered, a year after it finished filming.

It was supposed to come. Because when your own brother was finding his way, you had lost yours.

But what happened? When did life slip in? When did it start ending?

Before you knew it, you had packed your stuff without you being aware of it. You had packed everything up, except your own heart. You left your heart right there, right next to that stupid journal, in his upper drawer, right next to his bed. Had he opened that drawer ever since or had he forgotten about it?

There was your journal, not in your room. In his. And he hadn’t given it back.That’s why you felt lost. Your heart was imprinted there and he hadn’t given it back.

But you had packed everything else, with him not even trying to stop you. Just watching you circle around.

Was it fear? Maybe it had been fear, from both. You supposed that’s how life was. Loving was not a duty.

You only had one request for him, one last request: “Remember me, I was the one to love you, and I was the one to call in the middle of the night when you couldn’t sleep. Just remember me when we’re no longer here.”

Because it hadn’t been your fault, your life just slipped in. Distance. No time for calls. Your job getting too much recognition, his job getting even more. Fights that were only to push each other away so it wouldn’t hurt when you both were away. Maybe being enemies had come useful when it was supposed to end.

Fight, and more fights in the end. Yet you were gripping each other. And life had just slipped in. Like it always does.

And it wasn’t him. And it wasn’t you.

“Tell me you actually want it to end,” he had asked when you had the final box.

You didn’t. But there wasn’t much you could do, expect walk out the doors.

Or was there? But even if it was a breakup, you both agreed to remain friends, and then it transformed into little excuses to see each other.

Because it didn’t end up badly. It had been life slipping in. With barely having any time for something that needed too much time to build on.

Filming initially had helped you, how beautiful it was creating it, what a beautiful outcome it had been out of your heartbreak. With music, and fights and everything that was splendid.

Maybe the film wasn’t a huge success, but it had been enough for you both to try and mend it after.

But when filming had ended and you had to go back, that’s when the problems started. His job, your new one. Him there, you here. When you were together, it was amazing, worth it. But then you barely could. And you could barely grip each other.

Then you were too different. Then you were just the same, so stubborn and stupid.

Then it was old arguments, and new ones.

When was it gone? Had he stopped loving you?

He had asked you, near the end. “Do you still love me? Are we still enough?”

“I do love you.” But you hadn’t answered the second question. And what was it? Why wasn’t it? “Why wouldn’t we?” you had questioned.

“Dunno, it’s delicate.”

It was.

Maybe it had been James’ words for Clark. About how love shouldn’t be forced, how love should be simple and love shouldn’t be hurt. About how they built it together. How it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t complicated.

And then Clark had said it, too. How he loved being with someone that he enjoyed silence with. How love was more than passion. How love was more than a kiss. Seeing how simple it had been for them, was a bit disappointing for you both. Your relationship was anything but simple.

And it wasn't now because you didn’t trust each other, or because you wanted to fight. No, it simply was life telling you, you shouldn’t be together. And maybe it was also the fact that you both thought you worked because you had never experienced silence together. Always a wreck. Always a mess. Always so passionate. But… was it only that? Maybe it was the passion of the moment.

You knew Tom still played the conversation with Tim over and over in his head. How by the end he said he felt guilty by it all.

You too, you were both driven by guilt and guilt eventually snaps you.

So it ended.

“Is it too soon to end this?” You had asked him.

Tom had shrugged. “Would you rather it be late?”

But that didn’t mean you… had to stop seeing each other. Or did it? So you based your new relationship on excuses. And the excuses had grown. ‘I need to give you this hoodie’, ‘I forgot my charger at your place’ ‘I need someone to drive me to do errands’, ‘I need help running lines’, ‘I need a date for this party.’

And then they didn’t even make sense. ‘I can’t open a jar’ ‘I can’t watch this movie alone’ ‘I need to rant about the ending of this series’ ‘I sneezed and no one blessed me’. Stupid things. And then it was the truth ‘I need to listen to your voice’. ‘I miss you’. ‘I want to see you’.

But it was only seeing each other, with no… relationship. No kissing, no anything. Only excuses. A… friendship.

True friendship, for the first time ever. And you could talk for hours with him until the sun came out, and you could laugh with him.

Maybe it hurt that it wasn’t more, but maybe it was never meant to be like that. But you were in a good place. In the best place you had been. The strongest you had both been, too. How civil you were with clothes on. And how many times had you stopped your will to undress him.

Your lips searched for his but they never got what they wanted, your hands hurt from keeping them to yourself, and your heart would only ache a bit.

From both sides.

Seemed that both of you knew what you had to build up on. And maybe you both knew the risk that would come if you were willing to give it a try without having something to settle on.

Maybe that’s why it didn’t hurt. Because it would bloom again, right? Maybe you were preparing the dirt to plant it in. Not loose flowers now. Have seeds.

Or that’s the idea you built yourself into. Because honestly. Had you ever been more than enemies with benefits?

But now, you were friends. Good friends. Maybe you were in love with him, and grown fonder of him now. Really, really in love. But friends. Friends who stared a little bit too much into each other’s eyes, or friends who would easily recognize each other’s laughter. Friends who would have their feet up the headboard and talk about life. Friends who instinctively would give the other a bite of their food or offer a sip of their drink.

Friends who would take a deep breath each time the other walked into the room, and friends who avoided getting too close that it would be mistaken for something else. Secret moments. Standing on the other sides of the room, turning your head away each time your eyes met.

Maybe you didn’t get the happy ending you wished for, or not the one you had expected to.

But you were happy. And it had ended. Those things were unrelated.

But a lot had changed.

Ay first, you had to fight the urge to undress him. Now you had to fight the urge to stare too long into his smile.

Really, a lot had changed.

Tom had started dating someone else, you didn’t know how long that lasted. You had pretended not to care, although you did.

You went out on dates, too. Didn’t inform him, either. Not explicitly. Though he did know.

Because you were friends. That was the happy ending you deserved.

A lot had changed.

And you were currently helping a bride tie that bow in her dress as she stared at her reflection. Her hair hung to her shoulders and half of it was tied with perfect braids. She was finally having her happy ending.

“Are you ready for the veil?” Timmy asked, as he watched the reflection of the bride.

“Can you give me a bloody second, Timothée?” Emma snapped with her usual tone. “I’m fucking busy right now, the veil can wait, don’t be a dick.”

You only held your laughter eyeing Tim. Tim and you had stopped looking at each other like you felt guilty for a while now. Tom’s jealousy had not exactly been driven away, you guessed it never would go.

But surprisingly enough, they became...friends. Or they could stand each other now after James had talked to both of them.

James and the married life that seemed to suit him. His wedding had been very small, but charming nonetheless. You wondered if you would’ve had something like that, very personal.

Quite a different story from Emma and Harry now. Whose love had conquered. And they had had a rough patch but how difficult can it be when you find your soulmate?

Maybe Harry and Emma had Tom and you doubting too. Tom and you had seen several times that you were not meant to be. Your coincidences in life had not been so, rarely coincidences but the both of you fighting for something. Too stubborn to admit that life was getting in the way.

Tom and you had all the odds in your favor and the ones to fuck it up were you both.

While Harry and Emma always had everything against them and they managed to work it out.

Who’re the soulmates here?

“What a lovely thing the blushing bride is, eh?” Tim rolled his eyes.

Emma had been… quite the bride. Everything had to be perfect, which was not likely for Emma to be that way. But she did say it, since she was marrying the love of her life it had to be big enough. In a rustic hotel, full of books and vintage furniture. A very cottage-like wedding. Very Emma and Harry. Unique.

It was perfect.

It had to, honestly. After the crossroads… everything had changed for them.

How Emma and Harry got back together was no mystery, Harry had been brave enough to go for her. When two souls are meant to be even the rockiest path will be easy to travel by.

It was the opposite of what you and Tom used to have. Emma and Harry had all the friendship, relationship settled, they just missed… the passion.

And so when they found each other, and were like two horny teenagers running around, it became...so effortless. Because they had something built upon.

As if life was rewarding them for their patience. For the love they shared. For each and every smile.

Both wild flowers, Often disregarded, had found each other, and created the most beautiful bouquet.

You only chuckled at Tim’s remark. “Splendid bride.”

While you and Tom had never been friends. Only too driven by the other, and passion and… when it ended? What were you? Were you merely nightly romance?

Tim groaned. “Emma—“he raised the veil. “I’m not trying to—I just think you should be wearing this already.”

“Shut up,” Emma granted. “I will but right now I’m—“

“Staring at your reflection?” Tim challenged. Because Emma was actually just doing that. Staring at the perfect dress she was wearing. Shining brightly like a diamond against the sun, her skin perfectly sparkled.

Emma looked for your glance in the mirror,”y/n, love.”

“Yes?”

“As my maid of honor, what are you willing to do?”

You offered her a grin, “Anything.”

Emma stared into your eyes. “Kill Timothée.”

You chuckled, “Almost anything, you should’ve asked earlier. I don’t want to get blood in my dress.”

Tim was surprised by your words. “So you would’ve?”

“Possibly, I don’t want to encounter a bridezilla Emma.”

Timmy threw his hands in the air. “I just want to help.”

“Well, don’t,” Emma and you said at the same time.

“I’m going to check on the guys, I am one hundredth percent sure they’re still in their pj’s drinking beer,” You commented.

The hotel room for the boy’s was only a floor below. It was everything Harry and Emma had probably wished for. An outdoor wedding that was planned to the very perfection. Very fairytale like. Lights hanging from trees, flower petals covering the aisle, daisies as the centerpieces, and daisies in Emma’s hands. Emma’s dream had always been an outdoor wedding.

When speaking with Emma and Harry both had stated that they made the decision not to give up. Always leaving you to wonder.

There was a part of you that was blinded by desirous thoughts. Had it been a mistake? To conclude a relationship that you had fought so long for?

Lately it had been.

You made your way to the elevator and as it opened you found a familiar face. He seemed uneasy, though.

“Y/N!” His voice was only a confirmation to his precarious state.

Your cheeks furrowed as you smiled, “Clark, hi!”

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a hug, a very nervous hug. as you stepped into the elevator. “Fuck, you look stunning. Loving the flowers on the hair.”

The dress was absolutely stunning, you had to give in that Emma’s taste was remarkable. Sky blue had been her color choice, to match with the flowers. Daisies and hydrangeas. Innocence and beauty.

It was ironic, a bit. You’d helped her with the flowers, and initially she had like sunflowers. As if it had been sntached from you. Maybe it was destiny laughing in your face. Yet she’d gone for the delicate hydrangeas.

“Thanks, Emma’s idea,” you grinned. “Where are you—“

“Oh eh, with the other boys,” he said as you pressed the button. He was shaking.

“So, what’s got you all flustered?” You questioned.

You could see Clark sweating. “Hm?”

“What’s got you all flustered?” You questioned, again.

He didn’t give you an answer. “Clark?”

Clark bit his lip. It was never usual for Clark to be anxious or to hide thoughts for himself. The man was always certain of his thoughts and actions. There was probably a calamity waiting for you.

“I—I am only the messenger,” he said, “I was actually looking for—Tim but—“

There it was. “But?”

“I think you might be of more help,” Clark admitted.

“Clark?” Your brows furrowed as the elevator door opened. He only offered a nervous smile as he licked his lips.

You saw Tom at the end of the hallway, on a call, shirt buttoned half way, his other hand running through his hair, he looked troubled. You were hoping his eyes would meet yours. Ever since the wedding was approaching he had been inattentive. Maybe the wedding hurt as much. It had been so hard for him to switch from lovers to friends. Did he ever stop and wonder if you guys could’ve had one? Did Tom also hindered with painful thoughts of how everything had so carelessly ended?

Lately it was all you had in your mind, how you felt ready. Or maybe it was the pressure that the wedding was giving you. And just as you started getting closer, Tom had backed away without a warning.

James was just getting out of the room, mid hallway. Your brother seemed to be as stressed. The tie around his neck barely covering it, his hair was scrunched. James’ eyes crossed with yours and then went straight to his husband’s.

“You brought y/n?” James pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ah, fuck it,” he looked at his watch. “Yes, you might be more helpful,” James said as he gestured with his hand to come over.

There was clearly something going on. You eyed Tom, who still was not aware you were there.

“I—Sam, no, no, I’ll—I can’t stay here, fuck I have his phone here—“You heard him say before James had dragged you into the room.

You approached your brother. “What is going on?”

“We—couldn’t find Harry’s tie,” James explained.

A tie? This was all of it? This whole catastrophe was for a tie?

“Can't any of you give him yours?” You frowned. It was no surprise that they hadn’t come up with a solution to such a simple problem, you could not expect less from men.

James rolled his eyes. “So he went to search for it about an hour ago but he fucking left his phone here and—“

Then you understood what was going on. “Where’s Harry?” You closed your eyes.

James gulped. “That’s—the thing.”

“Where is Harry?” You questioned, again.

Clark cleared his throat. “We don’t—know.”

Oh, so you were fucked. “Whose stupid idea was—?”

“Well, Dad told me he left home about 40 minutes ago and he didn’t see him at home, Sam hasn’t found him—Their fucking twin telepathy thing is broken, I guess—“Tom had walked in staring at his phone, loudly explaining his previous conversation. “Oh—hi, y/n.”

“Hi.” It was rutinary, for both of you. To just—stop when the other walked into a room. You blushed. Only noticing until then how handsome he looked. Seemed you hadn’t realized how badly you wanted him. In the most innocent way, in the way that you only wanted to offer him your heart. In the way that you only wanted the sole confirmation that he still loved you. In the way you wanted to be the reason for his smile.

You wanted to ask him, if it was okay he was still on your mind. Was it wrong? Would he be chill with him visiting your dreams?

Because that had been the hardest part of it all. At some point you had both decided you needed to move on… Because both of you at the beginning were trying to get back together and after a long conversation that almost led to one kiss, you both decided it wasn’t appropriate. So pretending you didn’t love each other was the way you’d keep him, for whatever it was worth.

Tom had said it once, hadn’t he? How everytime you both stated your feelings… it hurt. So now that you weren’t stating them, you were supposed to not hurt. Why did it, then?

“You look—stunning,” he eyed you up and down, and licked his lips, “I—I’m sorry I didn’t-uh-call this morning-I was—“

“You look pretty, too,” you interrupted. Knowing that the missed call would be a subject for James’ interest. The short story was—you had probably had a few more drinks than you should’ve with him at the hotel bar with Clark and James and Tom had walked you to your room, only walking, not even a kiss on the cheek as much as you had wanted it, but he had promised to call in the morning after you had claimed he had been ignoring you. He hadn’t called.

And was aware of it, which meant he hadn’t forgotten. It meant he had avoided you, again.

It had seemed that from one morning to another Tom had decided that the word friends meant strangers.

Maybe he wouldn’t pay a visit to your dreams.

He reached for your hair, “I like the flowers—”

“Can you both leave your ‘in love but not together’ bullshit for later?” James snapped you both out of the trance. “The wedding is in two hours and the fucking groom is no where in sight.”

Both Tom and you turned to him, travelling back to reality. “Well it’s not my fault! Who—sent him? Why didn’t you guys offer to go for the stupid tie?” You snapped back at your brother.

Tom looked away.

Of course. You watched him. “Tom? How do you plead?”

“Guilty,” he admitted.

You took a deep breath. This was definitely not the scenario you wanted to find yourself in. Had… Harry escaped? It was… not likely to escape but then again, you’d learned not to expect anything.

It was reason enough to worry.

“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Tom said.

James sighed. “He took my car and—“

“You gave him your car to escape—!” You snapped. “Your car always stops working!”

“No,to go for his tie, not to escape,” Tom snapped his fingers with a smile defending your brother. “We-”

“Thomas oh my god, I am not even- All of you, you all thought it was a good idea?” You were furious now. Whose stupid idea was it to-Of course it had been Tom’s. You were going to jump to conclusions. “To send the groom when any of you could have gone-?”

You didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

You really didn’t, however it was ineluctable. Not because Harry didn’t love Emma, but because Harry was… scared. You didn’t blame him. True love comes barely once in a thousand lifetimes and when we finally get to it, it might be too much for us to handle. However after your conversations with Harry this cataclystic outcome had not been foreseen.

“My dad is around the hotel trying to find him,” Tom quickly answered.

You took a deep breath. You perfectly knew Harry.

Harry and you were close as you had once been, in a way, Harry and you were well apprised of the other. Harry was reasonable enough not to leave his wedding.

“He offered to go,” James explained.

Harry wouldn’t have offered that unless he needed to go away. And you only needed one confirmation, there was no way Harry would’ve forgotten his tie. Harry would’ve never forgotten it, unless it had been self sabotaged.

You were conveyed to the drawers, opened each one carefully, fearing you’d find it, and your gut had been right. there it was. The tie in all of its splendor. “And you let him go?” You asked, taking the tie and swinging it to them. “To search for this tie?”

“Yes,” James closed his eyes. “Fuck. We should’ve known.”

Your eyes crossed with Tom’s and then you then realized it, Tom seemed calm. Tom wasn’t freaking out. Not externally. You weren’t sure if he really wasn’t or if it was the usual wall you both build around the other. Incomprehensible it seemed now. Always keeping it cool, So many things you’ve lived and you had let them go oh so easily?

But you were flawed. You had been. But not now, what was stopping you both? Wasn’t he still the one holding your broken heart in the palm of his hand? Had he not borrowed it?

You were still trying to hold his.

But your mind shouldn’t be worried about your relationship with Tom when the groom was nowhere to be found. When he had lied that he lost his tie and it was right in that drawer.

Yet, you somehow knew there was something… Something there.

“He was supposed to go home then?” You questioned Tom.

Tom was getting anxious by the second. “Yes, so we can go look for him.”

“The two of you?” James interrupted.

“Yes the two of us, we could split and look for him but...” Tom said. “Someone has to stay here.”

James was slightly annoyed, you could tell. But James was often annoyed at you and Tom. James had been the most disappointed about the resulting relationship. Honestly, everybody was disappointed. Had you been cowards for giving up?

So much drama and for what?

“Of course you’d think splitting up is a good idea,” James snapped with poison. James was annoyed because he always pointed it out to you, how much you’d fought to have him and how easily you’d walked out.

Walking out had not been easy. Walking out had to be the most painful decision you’ve ever made. And you remembered that night you had, the city was asleep, the night was quiet, and you were the only one standing on that street, under that streetlight. Alone. He hadn’t gone to you. You’d looked back to his window, expecting him to be there, and then the door had remained closed.

You cleared your throat. “I might know where Harry is,” you lied. You were at a loss of your mind at the moment. Maybe it was shock. Not maybe, it certainly was shock. The sole thought of Harry not appearing at his own wedding had not ever crossed your mind. You’d thought Emma would’ve. Would’ve been in character, but how stupid do you have to be to run from your wedding on your wedding day?

Tom directed a glance. “I think I might know where he is, too.”

Did he? Or was he only trying to prove a point?

Though the friendship was afloat, some habits could never wear out. Especially when it came to challenging the other. After the breakup it had become a sort of competition of who was dealing better with it.

Neither of you were coping well, but you wouldn’t admit it.

How disappointing, isn’t it? A whole story to end just in a few words. A whole journey to be plucked off your hands. So quickly, so easily.

How ironic it seemed that after such a long time, it was this breaking up bullshit.

James watched between the both of you. “Do you really?”

“Yes,” Tom and you answered and panicked at the other’s statement.

“Well, I’ll race you there,” you challenged.

Tom squinted, “I don’t have my car, dad gave me a ride.”

“Well, then, you should start running so I don’t beat you there,” you grinned and then walked off the room, decidingly. Only thing left was knowing where exactly Harry had run to.

“This isn’t a fucking game, y/n!” James reminded you. “We need to find Harry.”

“I know, Jamesy!”

Tom had rushed after you, “You have no idea where he is, do you?” He mumbled.

“Not a clue,” you admitted. “You?”

He laughed, “Not a fucking clue, either.”

You both got into the elevator. He dug his hands into his pockets.

“Do you think he escaped?” Tom questioned.

“It’s possible,” you admitted. You sighed, as you pressed the button to the upper floor.

“What are you doing?” Tom asked.

“I need my keys,” You said.

Tom’s eyes widened. “And are you telling Emma?” He was panicking.

“Of course!” You gave him the widest beam. “She’ll be delighted!”

“What?”

You jokingly slapped his head. “Of course not, idiot! How the fuck am I supposed to tell her? What would I even tell her? Hey! We can’t find Harry! He might have run off! No!”

“Right. Then what’s the alibi?” Tom asked. “Just showing up and leaving?”

You sighed, “You, you will be my alibi.”

Tom blinked but followed after you when the elevator door finally left you at your floor, you rushed to the room, but stopped in front of it, buttoning Tom up. He watched you with confusion.

“I thought I was your alibi,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, “Not that kind of alibi, dipshit.“

Helaughed, rolling his eyes and avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, it’s been a while since that could be the alibi.”

You decided to ignore the statement, “Now, when I walk in, if you hear Emma question me—just call me and try rushing me.”

“Alright, but I think we need a solid alibi, y/n,” Tom pushed.

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll take care of that,” you confirmed and opened the door where you were welcomed by Timmy, who was about to go out.

“Oh, hey,” Tim greeted and then eyed Tom. “Thomas.”

“Timothée,” Tom nodded his head.

Even when they both presumed to be friends, you knew that Tim and Tom would always have some sort of… disagreement.

“Uh, I was about to… go see Lily,” Tim explained, turning back to you. “Mind staying with Emma-? Her mother is on one last minute arrangements, it might rain so they’re trying to figure out what to do-So if you could—“

“Actually,” you cleared your throat. “An emergency came up, so I need you to stay here, maybe tell Lily to come here?”

Tim frowned. “What emergency?”

“We’re taking care of it,” Tom explained as you rushed in looking for your purse. “We’ll be quick,” he added. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Y/N, babe, you’re back!” Emma commented.

You squinted your eyes closed, “And I’m leaving—sorry, I need to uh—It will be quick I promise there’s an issue with—there’s an emergency—“

Emma was nervous, “y/n? Everything okay? Did something happen to the flowers?”

You couldn’t lie to her, but you could omit the truth. “No, everything okay with the flowers—I promise I’ll be here quickly, I’m just going to—“

“Y/N, darling?” You heard Tom outside. “We need to go, now.”

Emma heard and then she was no longer going to question you. Not right now, at least. “Ah,” Emma said, knowingly as she rolled her eyes. “I see, Tom— an emergency with Tom.”

“I promise it’s not like that,” you assured her. “But everything is okay and— I’ll be here in time.”

“I am freaking out, do you see the sky? It’s grey! Fucking grey! I need to stop the rain!” Emma yelled. “What if it’s a bloody sign? Fuck, I need to talk to Harry, I need him-”

You freaked out by then. “No, Emma, calm down, it’ll be okay, we will figure something out!”

“Y/N! Please!” Tom called in again.

Emma watched you, “I swear to god, y/n, if your emergency is fucking that man I will murder you.” “Trust me, it’s not.”

Emma glared, “Y/N, I’ll only say it one more time. If you’re leaving my wedding to have sex with that hunk, I will kill you.”

You shook your head. “I’m… Trying to figure out what to do with the rain, okay? Leave this ro me! I’ll see you in a bit, Emma!” You ran back out.

You saw Tom’s mother walking down the hallway, she offered you a concerned look.

Tom seemed calm enough for Tim, however, who was watching him with curiosity. You were thankful that they avoided conversing with each other, especially because Tom would probably screw up the alibi. One that you didn’t have. But probably Tim had bought it, even if he had yet to hear what the alibi was. However, you knew that Tom’s presence was a solid alibi for rather than anything else.

Tom had been an alibi for your nerves. You knew that Tim wouldn’t question why you were nervous because he knew you were always nervous when Tom was around. You certainly looked flustered and having Tom there would definitely explain why you were jittery.

Tim raised his brows at you, and you only took Tom’s hand in an attempt to drag him back to the elevator. Tim was explicitly confused.

“Ah, Nikki! I’m so glad you’re here, Emma is finishing up, would you mind helping her?” Your voice was coming out slightly coarse.

The woman gulped, “are Tom and you taking care of the...rain issue?” She questioned.

“Yes, ma’,” Tom quickly nodded, “we will… find the rain.”

Some things never change, Tom was still an idiot. And for being an actor how terrible was he at lying.

“Find?” Tim questioned.

“Nothing to worry about, Tim darling,” Nikki stepped into the room, trying to push Timothee back inside, “they are taking care of it and they should go look at it, right now, chop chop!”

“See you in a bit, Tim!” You said as you ran to the elevator as Nikki closed the door, you finally were able to let go of Tom’s hand.

He cleared his throat as he pressed the button, “So what was the alibi?” Tom second glanced at you. “Why would we take care of the rain?”

“Because it got lost,” you shrugged. “Why else would we find it.”

He closed his eyes as you both walked into the elevator. “I’m an idiot.”

“Biggest one.”

He chuckled, “I—uh, heard Emma’s comment. About her thinking we were going to-”

You blushed, “Yeah.”

Big distance between both of you. Never ever close enough to accidentally brush against each other or hands coincidentally touching.

How different it was from the elevator in New York.

Tom cleared his throat. “Good to know where she stands in that subject.”

You shrugged, “I would also get mad if my best friend ditched me at my wedding to have sex with an idiot.”

He smirked rolling his eyes. “I believe the term she used was hunk.”

You ignored the comment.

“Why didn’t Timothee question us?” Tom asked.

You shrugged, “Haven’t you noticed that no one questions us?”

Tom furrowed his brows. “How so?”

“Whenever we are together, they never ask anything, they just let us be,” you admitted. Because everyone was waiting for you both to get back together or everyone expected something more from you. You never gave it to them.

He tilted his head slightly, agreeing with you. “I guess they think they’re going to make things awkward.”

No. People let you be because they wanted you to solve it.

“As if they could be,” you chuckled. “I think that’s the best part of us right now, people just don’t… meddle.”

Tom smiled, “I guess.”

You cleared your throat, “Now, where the fuck do you reckon Harry is?” You asked as you reached the lobby, turning back to what actually mattered.

“Honestly, I have no idea, nothing can come to my mind, it’s just… Not likely from Harry to run away,” Tom said. “Like—Me? Definitely. I would’ve—“

“Yes, you’d definitely run,” you nodded as you jingled the keys. Tom asked for the car at the valet.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tom questioned.

“You’d definitely escape from your own wedding,” you chuckled. “You’re so afraid of commitment. It’s the Gemini in you.”

He opened his mouth with pride, “excuse me? Me the one afraid of commitment? May I remind you of your past, my lady?”

You avoided his gaze. “You may not.”

“Said no to a proposal, poor Timothee,” Tom started with a smirk.

“Okay that’s—“You cleared your throat, chuckling slightly. “You shouldn’t—“

“Then—Then,you faked a relationship.”

You eyed him, “are we really going to touch that subject, again?”

“You were scared of commitment enough to fake one,” he joked.

You could joke about it now. Or he could. You’d never joke about it.

“Or I knew you wouldn’t commit so I had to fake I didn’t want it,” you smugly answered.

He faked annoyance. “Well, you ran to another country, yes, just after confessing your lovely feelings through a letter—“

“That’s…different.”

“Then you didn’t give me an answer—you didn’t know if you wanted to date me,” he recalled.

You scoffed, “Thomas, may I remind you why I didn’t want to date you?”

“Then you called it quits after seeing your brother getting married and you were scared we were heading there too,” Tom said.

You gulped, “Ah, yes that last one wasn’t me—“ you reminded him. “Not entirely.”

Tom licked his lips. “Maybe we are both afraid of commitment.”

“No,” you nudged him. “I wasn’t.”

“I wasn’t either.”

There was a sudden silence. You’d barely talked about it before. As if the relationship had suddenly disappeared.

You hadn’t talked about the breakup once in months.

“I would say we are at a crossroads but,” he shrugged. “I do not believe that commitment was the reason for—“

“Nope,” you gave in. “It was not.”

Because it wasn’t, maybe it was the fact you were both too committed to a relationship without form.

“However—you did—“Tom cleared his throat. “I mean—we were headed in some sort of direction.”

“Thomas, I don’t think now is the time to have the conversation we haven’t had.”

“So we should keep pushing it, then? Pretending we are both fine with this agreement? Lately we don’t seem fine with it.”

You knew he was right. Neither of you were entirely happy with this whole new friendship thing. “I—maybe we can talk about it when we find Harry!”

Tom pursed his lips, “so you do want to talk about it?”

You took a deep breath, “Thomas, we can push aside that conversation but we cannot push aside the fact your brother is nowhere to be found on his wedding day.”

“Fine.”

“Besides I think if we’ve pushed it long enough—“

He laughed. “We are—particularly calm about that subject.”

“I don’t think we are,” you admitted. “We just like to pretend when we are calm around each other.”

Tom clicked his tongue, “Maybe. But I’m—We haven’t talked about that in a while.”

“And it’s not the moment right now, it’s your brother’s wedding, and he is nowhere to be found,” you repeated.

Tom’s smile faded and was overstrung again. The car was there.

You let him drive, he usually drove your car. Another habit that hadn’t worn out.

Now things weren’t calm, as if the sudden rush had become the both of you. You finally got it, the anxiety that should’ve come from hearing it. The anger and despair that you were supposed to feel from Harry running away.

He looked down, “what’s that?” He pointed at the cup on the cup holder.

“Coffee, from yesterday,” you explained. “Didn’t finish it.”

“You think I could die from that?” He asked.

You looked at him. “I—don’t know but—You're not thinking of—“

“Drinking it?” Tom smirked. “Yeah, I’m just—-thirsty.”

“Please don’t.”

He took the cup, “I won’t die.”

“I guess not but it’s been sitting here one day!” You tried taking it off. He gripped it and shook his head.

“I won’t die!” He said before taking a sip and scrunching his nose. “This is fucking disgusting.”

“Why are you bloody drinking it?” You laughed.

He laughed, “I—I don’t know, but no it’s not that bad.”

“Thomas what the fuck,” you couldn’t stop laughing. “If you die then I’ll have to take care of your dead body and finding Harry, and my priority is finding Harry so I’d have to pull a Weekend at Bernie’s”

Tom giggled and stuck his tongue out, acting so terribly as if he was actually dying.

“You know,” you watched him with fake repulsion. “You deserve an Oscar for that one performance.”

“Right?” He grinned. “I’ll thank you when I receive it.”

You chuckled, “I think we should focus on Harry instead, yes?”

You both discussed places where he would go, that park? Unlikely. That Pub? He wasn’t there. Home?

Where in the world would he go?

“What if he—?” You were getting tired. “What if he didn’t run away?”

Tom looked over, he was rubbing his face, angry you hadn’t found him at the third pub. “That’s the thing, I don’t think he did.”

“It makes no sense, does it?” You questioned.

“No, he—he loves her,” Tom licked his lips. “It’s cause—“ he clutched to the wheel. “I don’t think Harry would—“

“No, I don’t think so—I just—“

It started to rain, because of course it bloody had to. Seemed that the ambiance always had the urge to level up to the level of drama you were always living.

“Jesus Christ, can we ever get into a dramatic moment without it raining?” Tom questioned, angrily.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh. “I—It was on the news forecast, I am sorry to inform you, but we’ve got nothing to do with the weather.”

Tom laughed, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Alright, if he’s not at home then he’s—“You laughed, “Where the fuck is Harry?” You yelled, defeated.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “I—hate Harry.”

You agreed. “Wait—wait, where’s your dad driving around?”

“Dunno, but he would’ve called,” Tom admitted. “Bloody hell, I hate Harry—I—can’t believe he did this.” You stayed quiet. If he had. What had led him to it? The day before he had been alright. Of course, he seemed nervous but he was excited, dreamy. In love.

“What do you know?” He questioned.

You frowned, getting your gaze back to him. “What?”

“You have your—thinking face on,” Tom pointed out. “See? Brow furrowed and hand on hair and everything,” he said. “You feel...guilty?”

“What?” You chuckled nervously. “No!”

“I know you guys spoke yesterday,” he recalled.

“Well yes, I wished him luck, but nothing—He gave me no clue of that, no clues of running away!” you admitted. “He was scared but he—I mean I thought it was usual wedding jitters but—he didn’t—I just—Calmed him. I mean he talked to you before, you probably were the one to scare him!”

“I—what?” Tom was taken aback. “I—I didn’t—“

“He talked to you before me!”

“yes, we talked but I gave him brotherly—marriage advice.”

You scoffed. “You? You gave him marriage advice?”

Tom chuckled nervously, “I—no, but—love advice.”

“We are the last people on earth that should give advice on that,” you stated.

He sighed, “I know but—“

“What did you say to him? Maybe you scared him and that’s why he ran away!” You stated, poking him.

He frowned, “Did not!”

“What did you even say to him?” You pushed. “I just know.”

He rolled his eyes, and mocked, “you just know?”

You playfully slapped his arm. “Yes, idiot! I know, you give the worst advice on love, you’re so dramatic.”

“I am dramatic?” He laughed.

“Yes,” you interrupted before he could even defend himself, “and—and, and I am too. We are—Oh god, are we to blame for Harry running away?”

Tom seemed to realize it at the same time. “I mean—Considering what we both could’ve said—“

Neither of you couldn’t help but laugh, maybe with guilt.

“I’m scared,” Tom admitted. He sighed, holding one last laughter.“We’re fucked.”

You both stayed calmly, as the rain halted against the car.

“What did you talk about with him?” He questioned.

Of course the question held more than that. You knew what he was asking about actually.

Seemed that both of you knew you had basically laid it on Harry the day before. Or maybe not. But where else would Tom ever get his advice from?

You had told him not to give up, you’d told Harry that he had found it, whatever love is, he’d found it.

“How I was proud of him, how I wanted what he was getting,” you shrugged.

You had also joked about how you and him wouldn’t have worked out. But you’d also said you were sorry it hadn’t worked out with Tom either. How you knew that him and Emma were not headed there, that he had nothing to worry about.

How you regretted the script. Spilling out your heartbreak for the world to see. Spilling your love story that was barely one and how people had a lot to say about it.

How it was painful to hide your love. How you knew Tom hadn’t moved on either but probably was planning to.

You told Harry to keep his feelings for Emma, and only Emma. That he didn’t have to share it. You had told Harry to treasure every morning, and to find a flower to talk for him.

“You?”

“I apologized for ruining his engagement party,” Tom nodded, “the first one.”

You both gulped.

“But how I—“ Tom shifted in his seat. “How I thought that they had found the silver linings for it all. That after being apart they’d just come back stronger. And how—I was happy for him. How they overcame all obstacles. And how they were just meant to be.”

“Soulmates they are,” you said. “Which is why it makes no sense he is not there.”

“We need to find him,” he stated.

You nodded. “We are very calm, though, considering-”

“Yeah,” he gave in. “I—What about the park?”

“Oh? The park? Not a park, the park, of course, how didn’t I think of that,” you teased. “Oh yes, the park. As if there aren’t hundreds of parks. Yes the park.”

He snorted a laugh, “shut up! You know where I meant!”

“Well, drive, you pillock!” You chuckled. “Drive to—the park!”

He rolled his eyes and was about to start the car, yet again.

“Wait,” there was a part of you that thought you knew where he might be. But—to explain where it was would be difficult. “Let me drive.”

To try and find Harry. Which was technically the quest.

You had less time now. You were tired. But there was something that was making you believe you could find him. You hoped you were right.

Being behind the wheel with Tom as your copilot was weird. You always let him drive because you usually were in charge of the music.

“Well, given that I’m here, I’ll be for the first time in charge of the music in your car,”he said. He seemed to have the same thing in mind.

Which was completely stupid since you were looking for a lost groom, but well, Tom and you didn’t have much in common but you could always brag about the same stupidity and brain cell you shared.

He took the aux cord as you were driving, driving to that location that wasn’t far enough. A place you knew that gave Harry peace. The park.

But of course your own peace was disturbed as ‘I think we're alone now’ played.

You hadn’t listened to that song in a long while, since you’d danced to it on his living room, most of the lights out, your screen light and his own eyes being the only light you needed. When the things were good.

You had, purposefully, erased most songs that ever reminded you of him.

“You seriously have that song?” You snorted as the memories flooded back in.

Tom avoided your glance and shrugged, “What? It’s on my playlist.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I notice that. That’s how music works.”

There was silence. Probably driven by the growing fear of not finding Harry, probably coming from the fear that Harry had actually escaped. And what would that mean?

Had Tom and you really scared him?

But you both drowned the fear while humming the song.

Or maybe the silence came from the very memories of the song.

“It’s on this specific playlist honestly,” Tom said after a few songs.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“It’s—the song,” he cleared up. “haven’t you noticed the songs playing are only songs you like? Or songs—”

Songs with background. You shrugged, “Well, we have similar taste.”

He laughed, “No, y/n, we truly don’t.”

You glanced at him, as he was looking out the window. “Huh, alright—maybe that is the reason we broke up.”

Tom clenched his jaw. “Don’t be an idiot.”

You rolled your eyes. “Never mind, that is.”

“No,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “what Imean—this is my—you playlist.”

You didn’t answer. Not right away.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Tom asked.

“What does that even mean?” You questioned.

He licked his lips. “I—well.”

“So you ignore me but you have a playlist—a me playlist?” You questioned.

Tom licked his lips, “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, it’s—been hard.”

It had been, for you, too. “It’s harder if we are apart,” you pointed out.

He gulped, “That is my point,” he coughed. “We are friends,” he said. “And lately, before I started ignoring you—We were—“

You had been acting a bit more than what friends are supposed to act like. And a wedding always brings romance in everything so it was hard.

You cleared your throat, “It makes it weirder if we both walk away from the other.”

Tom bit his lip, “is it, really?” He watched you carefully. “Because, y/n, I—I’ve been… jealous, how they solved it. And how we couldn’t, after we both tried it was so hard, how we kept falling back.”

You had been slightly jealous, too.

“And, really, I—look, I love my brother and Emma, it’s not them ,” he continued, he rolled his eyes. “For all I know, we are both bitter because before James’ wedding happened we were both talking about… marriage and all,” Tom continued. “And they basically stole what could have been our wedding.”

So you were going to have that conversation. A conversation you had avoided even before the breakup. How both of you were… in talks. How you were expecting it. How you’d jitter if he ever got on his knee to tie his shoe, how every time you’d be waiting for it.

“We didn’t even get engaged,” you pointed out, in an attempt to be cynical, probably.

He coughed, “We talked about it. Good thing—We didn’t get that far because, well.”

“I think we both thought marrying would salvage us from falling,” you stated. “Or we thought it was the next step.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, I think we did,” he admitted. “But I—Back then I really thought, I dunno. I was really about to ask.”

You took a deep breath, “I would’ve said yes,” you said easily, though it hurt to even think about it. Though, you had been prepared to say yes.

“It wouldn’t have been right,” he pointed out. “We would’ve broken up before even getting to plan it.”

He was right. So, so right, because where you were heading wasn’t a wedding, you were heading to an even more hurtful breakup.

The decision had been made acknowledging this. Knowing it would hurt less then. Avoiding a terrible breakup.

“We were on a thin line,” you agreed. “Anything would’ve broken us.”

“I knew we were going through a rough patch but—I think we never realized how rough it was.”

You sighed, “Maybe I fucked up when we came back here, when I decided not to move in.”

Tom took a deep breath, “No, it wasn’t that.”

What was it? What had it been?

“I don’t know where we went wrong,” you admitted. “I really don’t.”

He shook his head, confirming he didn’t either. When asked, neither of you had a reason. It just—happened. Things had been just so rough and hard. Nothing to hold on to.

Though it didn’t make sense, you loved him. And he loved you.

“I think we both expected things to get better by themselves.” Tom played with his fingers and watched the window, staring at the raindrops slipping through it. Sliding easily, without no one stopping them.

“And we grew tired of fighting,” you added, as you stopped at a red light.

“Can't even remember what we were fighting about,” he confessed.

You took a heavy breath in, as the music still played in the background. “About nothing, and about everything. We fought over serious stuff, like whether we wanted to be public or not. A little about Tim and Cherry. And over stupid stuff mostly, yeah mostly over stupid stuff. Like when we were supposed to wake up for certain events or what tie you’d wear for James’ wedding, we fought over you staying at my place too much. We also fought about FaceTime hours, and whether we had to ask if we were available for it or not.”

Tom dedicated his glance back to you, sad, upset and full of regret. “I remember the cereal one.”

You raised your brows, “Yeah, that one was a smashing doors one.”

“Over stupid cereal,” he sighed as he brushed his face. “We were so—“

“Toxic?” You finished his sentence.

He chuckled, “yeah, mostly at the end.”

“The beginning too, I mean,” you shook your head. “I—We had sex to just solve everything. Thomas, we had hatred sex.”

He chuckled. “Well.”

You shrugged, “And that’s how we solved the fights initially.”

“It wasn’t enough at the end,” he added.

“It never was, and that’s—Thats why, although we both said we would talk we just—I think that’s why it didn’t work, at the end we just—grew tired of each other, the spark was gone.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Maybe it was the script,” you pointed out. “Everything concerning it.”

Learning he had a lot to do with the fact it was made had made you doubt yourself, the one true accomplishment had come because he had come to the rescue. Although it had been nice it had really started the downfall of your trust.

“No,” he shrugged.

He didn’t want to talk about it. You had had enough talks about the script, over the fact you wrote it and then regretted it. Over filming and the input he had in the movie, how the character had more in depth than before.

Over the fact he had come to your rescue because it hadn’t been good enough. That one specially had been the start of your downfall. Seemed that when you learned about it, you had completely gone mental. Though, it had come from his heart, he didn’t understand why you were angry.

You had always asked him not to ever give a hand with your writing, if you wanted to succeed it would be for your own accomplishments.

Then again, there was also this side that loved he had helped.

Truth is, it hadn’t affected your relationship, but it had affected your own self trust. And if you can’t trust yourself, however will you trust someone else?

Enough talks had been had.

“No,” Tom started. “We were guilty. Both of us, as if we were making it up for past mistakes. I never stopped thinking about what Tim said, and I think that’s why I always tried making it up for all the other times I hurt you. And then you tried making it up for the script, or—Whatever, it was a relationship built up on guilt.”

“Yeah, I think,” you whispered almost not wanting to be heard, “we both had things to learn about ourselves, and forgive ourselves first… and the timing was wrong.”

Tom shrugged, “Isn't it always wrong with us?”

Time was your true enemy. Or maybe it was easier to blame time rather than yourselves. Time was nothing.

It had been you and your pride or your fear, or whatever you came up with now.

However, there was some truth in that statement. Maybe in the past few months it had been time.

When you had told James and Harry you might want to get back together, Tom was dating.

When you were dating, Harry had told you he was thinking about it.

But what about now? Neither of you were dating, you were single and every odd could push you both to be together. Yet…You were not.

How disappointing, you would always think. Such a long story to end up like this.

How disappointing, really.

“No,” he stated, once again. “It’s not time. The problem might be we are the most stupid people to walk on earth.”

“Sounds reasonable,” you said. You nudged him, “look at us now, though, able to talk.”

“I like where we are, yeah,” Tom commented. “I think we are in a good place, we trust each other, we are friends, good friends, we take care, we hang out. We talk. And actually talk.”

You were focusing on the road, mainly, but your heart wanted to say more things. “Yeah.”

“There’s something bothering you,” Tom stared, intrigued.

“I don’t like you avoiding me,” you stated. “I really can’t stand it.”

“I won’t avoid you, then.”

Then, it was quiet. And it didn’t matter, you enjoyed moments of silence, and it wasn’t awkward. Both of you had learned that sometimes you just don’t have to say a word.

But you had to, in fear he would feel you were angry at the previous conversation.“It’s not even all songs I like,” you pointed out.

“Hm?”

“The playlist,” you decided you didn’t want to continue that past conversation.

He coughed, “So we are changing the conversation, huh? Well, they are songs that remind me of you but hey!” He nudged you. “Which ones don’t you like?”

So easily changing subjects and getting out a smile.

“I—we can get back to that later,” you turned to him and let out a soft chuckle. “songs that remind you of me?” You smirked, poking his shoulder.

He blushed, rolling his eyes. “Yes,” he admitted defeatedly.

You laughed, “You’re such a nerd.”

“What the fuck! It’s supposed to be sweet!” He complained.

You shrugged. “Or creepy.”

“No, it’s not—“

“I’m kidding I’m—more flattered than spooked—“ you admitted. “So why are you playing it?” You poked his cheek this time and he pushed your hand away.

“Because I’ve noticed you always complain about the music so when I play this you don’t!” He explained, annoyed.

“Oh, so it’s merely to keep me quiet,” you snickered, nodding.

Tom was moving his jaw, “Yes, basically.”

You glanced again, mischievously. “Wasn’t it supposed to be sweet?”

“No.”

You reached for his hair. “Tommy.”

“Don’t Tommy me,” he chuckled. “You called me creepy.”

“Yes, I don’t know how to flirt so I bully you, I thought we had that covered,” you snapped without giving it a second thought. Then completely regretting it.

His smirk was wide now, as he laughed maniacally. “Oh so you’re flirting.”

Your turn to blush had come. “No.”

He grinned. “You are.”

But then it was a miracle, a way to avoid this subject completely because it was not the conversation to be having with the current situation. “Shut up.”

“No, you are trying to flirt with me, I won’t shut up!” He mocked you.

“Shut up!”

“No!”

“Thomas! I think that’s Harry!”

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[zi-i-think]

Practicing

Pairing: Jade West x fem!reader

Rating: SFW

Word Count: 1800+

Warnings: mention of drugs

Request: no

AN: I know I’m still not done with requests, but I just really wanted to get in a Jade West oneshot. I don’t think Jade is out of character all that much, but I’d love feed back.

          Things sucked. Like. They royally sucked.

         When Beck and Jade broke up for the second time, it felt like a dark, ominous was looming over the group of talented teens. No one needed to be a genius to realize that both Jade and Beck with miserable. Not just because they were no longer together, but the breakup was emotionally draining.

         And despite it all, y/n couldn’t help but feel a little bit hopeful. She and Jade had been friends since middle school when Jade pushed a boy off his seat because he was bullying Y/n. They were pretty different. Actually very different personality-wise. Y/n was what Jade described as a hippie fairy. Which contrasted Jade’s vampire personality completely. 

         But there were just enough similarities to keep them together. Their hatred for the patriarchy. Interests in a feel-good green herb. They both started practicing Wicca together. And they were killer on the mic.

         It was a fine balance. 

         And over the years, Y/n couldn’t help but fall for the girl. Snarling personality and all. 

         She still recalls when Jade and Beck started dated. How at first she just thought she was annoyed at how Jade didn’t spend as much time with her but later realized that she was indeed feeling jealous.

         She knew it was terrible to be glad they’re no longer together, but she couldn’t help it.

         The first thing she saw when she approached her locker was the dark clothed girl waiting for her; standing cooly against the wall of lockers.

         “Morning.” Y/n greeted her with a smile. Jade hummed her greeting in response, waiting for her friend to get her things from the locker. “How you doing?” Jade sent her a glare, knowing that Y/n what trying to get her to talk about the breakup.Y/n mumbled a “nevermind” and closed the locker.

         “Do you have plans later?” Jade grumbled as the two started to walk to Sicowitz’s class.

         “Uh, yeah. I’m finishing up my script for my play.”

         “The one about the girl who turns into a dragon and then the prince who’s supposed to save her kills her on accident.”

         “That’s the one,” Y/n finger-gunner. “I’m trying to figure out how to make the finally really pull at the heartstrings.”

         “Make it gruesome,”

         “I’ll make a note of it.” 

         The class was already about to start by the time they entered and most people were engaged in their own conversations. Y/n saw Jade and Beck make eye contact. The same longing look on their faces. But stubbornness kept either of them from saying anything.

         “Hey, uh do you want to come over? Help me with the play?” Y/n asked, getting Jade’s attention again.

         “Sure. It’s not like I have any plans.” Jade shrugged before taking a seat upfront.

         Y/n smiled and took the seat next to her friend. A nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach grew as she already started to expect her friend’s arrival.

         “Good day, class!” The eccentric teacher barged into the room. “Your a pack or wolves engaged in a dance party!” He announced, prompting the teans to get up from their seats and act out the prompt.

         Knock Knock Knock

         The front door of Y/n’s house sounded. With a furrowed brow and her hair still wet, the girl opened the door revealing Jade with two coffees

         “You’re early,” Y/n stated the obvious.

         “Only cause I got bored. Now you want your coffee or not?” The dark haired girl outstretched her arm to hand her the tall cup.

         Y/n smiled appreciativly, taking the cup and stepping to the side.

         “Alright. So what does your play need?” Jade asked, already getting down to business. She walked straight to the living room and plopped herself on the blanketed couch.

         “Well, uh. It's mainly the last scene. Where the dragon turns back into a maiden and the prince realizes what he's done.” Y/n described, sitting next to Jade and grabbing the laptop from the coffee table.

         “Ah, so it’s angsty.” Jade smiles and leaned closer to Y/n to get a look at the document with the script.

         “Yeah.” Y/n’s voice cracked as she tried to compose herself over her friends close proximity. “So, I was thinking that once he realizes his mistake, he holds her close. I want him to have a monologue. Describing how he'd never get the chance to talk to her, see her, you know typical human relationship things.”

         “Alright so what's the problem?” Jade asked, not seeing why Y/n needed her there. Not that she was mad, she loved being around her. And truthfully, she missed hanging out and not having Beck in the back of her mind.

         “It just feels like it's missing something. You know.” Y/n said with a tinge of frustration in her voice. “Like. There's something that isn't making the plot complete enough for him to have that monologue. He loves her, but it doesn't feel like he does enough.”

         Without warning, Jade took the laptop from her lap.

         “I’ll read it.” she grumbled. “You go dry your hair or something.”

         “Good idea.” Y/n agreed, leaving the couch and beading back to her bathroom.

         “And order a pizza!” She heard Jade shout.

         It didn’t take long for Y/n to dry her hair and put the pizza order in. And by the time she got back into the living room, Jade was finished with reading over the script. Instead, she was now holding her new pair of scissors and examining the blades.

         “Figure anything out?” Y/n asked, getting the girl’s attention.

         “Yeah.” Jade put down the scissors and turned her body to face Y/n as she came in and sat down. “Your characters don’t kiss.”

         Y/n month dropped and she bit her bottom lip awkwardly.

         “Well, I was thinking about putting one in, but I thought it would be better if there weren’t one. Think about the symbolism behind it. Without the action, it’s expressing how the two never truly experienced being together.” She explained.

         Jade hummed and nodded as if she were understanding.

         “That’s stupid.” she said. Somehow both calmly and aggressively. Y/n furrowed her brow and tilted her head. Asking without words for Jade to go on. “Y/n the script is good, the storyline is paced well, blah blah blah. But the only thing that isn't good is the way you're presenting that they are in love. You want the audience to be heartbroken for the guy, show them that he loved her.”

         “Okay, so, where do you recommend it goes?” Y/n asked, grabbing the laptop and scrolling through.

         “Obvious. Scene 4, during the confession, I think after she falls from the tree.” Jade said. Y/n quickly went there and read it over, thinking about how to go about it.

         “You don't think it's a little fast?” Y/n asked, twisting her face as unsureness creeped into her mind.

         “Course not. You've already presented their infatuation for each other, and after that scene their relationship is already escalating more quickly. If anything it makes more sense.”

         She was right. Y/n knew it. But she couldn't shake the fact that having this discussion with Jade felt unreal. Perhaps because Y/n was crushing on her, but also because while Jade was very knowledgeable in entertainment, relationships were more of a ‘on the surface’ knowledge.

         Typing quickly the placement of the kiss, Y/n let out a heavy breath.

         “And it’s in.” She announced mainly for herself.

         “Good.” Jade nodded, now smirking at her friend. “You wanna see how it flows with the scene?”

         Y/n kept scrolling down the document to the ending, avoiding looking at the vampiresque girl.

         “Uh, ” She cleared her throat to avoid cracking her voice. “What do you mean?”

         “Well do the scene, me and you. As then you can make the final choice on whether you like it or not.” Jade explained casually.

         “Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

         Despite sounding calm and nonchalant on the outside, Y/n was screaming on the inside. Surely Jade wasn't actually intending on kissing her right? They’d work up to it and then stop, right? No kiss?

         “Cool, I'll be the guy and do you have it all memorized?” Jade started, grabbing the laptop and placing it on her lap.

         “Yep, it's all in my noggin.” Y/n knocked on her head awkwardly, receiving a disapproving look from Jade.

         “I’ll start at the beginning of the confession.” The dark haired girl announced, reading the lines. Then she looked up, right into Y/n’s eyes. “Tell me, Ayleth, do you feel what I feel.”

         “Why, I'm not quite sure what you mean, my prince.” Y/n continued, swallowing her nervousness.

         “When you look into my eyes, do you as well feel that fire? The one raging inside of your heart and coursing through you. Making you think illogically, wanting nothing more than to be consumed completely by you.”

         “One shouldn't think illogically. One must think about their duties, their-”

“That wasn't the question.” Jade acted, her usual roughness and anger dropped as she said her lines. “Do you love me?”

         “I suppose it would be unwise to try to divert the conversation.”

         “Most unwise. Especially to your prince.”

         “Well. Yes. I believe I do.”

         There was silence between the two. This was where the kiss was written. In the quiet, they both seemed to be questioning whether they would actually kiss or not. They both leaned in, slowly but surely. Y/n’s heart sped up and she wondered whether Jade was feeling the same. No, of course not. It's part of the scene. She's just acting, obviously.

         The inches between them soon turned to fractions of an inch. And their lips were so close to meeting.

         Knock knock knock.

         They were interrupted by the door. “Y/n pulled away immediately.

         “Pizza. I’ll get it.” She chuckled nervously and got up.

         “They can wait.” Jade said instead. She grabbed Y/n’s wrist and pulled her back down on the couch.

         Before Y/n knew it, Jade placed a firm kiss on Y/n’s lips. Though shocked, Y/n quickly reciprocated the kiss. Jade placed her hand on Y/n’s cheek, while the other girl’s hand went to Jade’s waist. By now, Y/n’s heartbeat was going a million miles per minute and both girls forgot about the person waiting at the door.

         Until they knocked again.

         “Give us a minute!” Jade shouted angrily before turning back to her, uh friend? Y/n was giggling at her rage over small things like that. Jade noticed not only that her dark blue lipstick had smudged onto Y/n’s face, but that she also had a deep red blush that covered her face almost completely.

         “Should we practice again?” Jade asked instead of bring it up. And when Y/n nodded, she didn’t waste another second to lean in again, kissing her with more depth than the one before.

[shini--chan]

I have an idea! What would Allies do after finding out that their s/o have (another) stalker? It can be another yandere, a creep, ex, jealous coworker with bad intentions or even a serial killer.

And a good idea it is, my dear anon.

Yandere Allies – Feindling America

You were already fast asleep, snoozing away under the covers in your shared bedroom. He, on the other hand, was still wide awake and had decided to settle down in the living room to do some light reading. His insomnia was due to the usual reasons – too much caffeine, too much stress, too much curiosity to just let the day finish.

And because he was worried, intently, about you. There was somebody else trying to stick their grubby fingers in your shared life, and pry you apart. That was something he was absolutely sure off. After living so long, and becoming paranoid due to his position on the global stage, he knew very well when he was being watched.

There was something after you in particular, he didn’t like it.

Out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of somebody moving in the bushes. A spike of adrenaline shot through his body, and for a moment he was tempted to storm about side and give that creep a hook. Yet a better idea came to mind – first to fire a warning shot.

He net his book aside and sauntered to one of the glass door to the balcony and gave the pane a few sharp knocks. It was enough to catch their attention. It was almost comical how the figure froze, and the hood swivelled in his direction. Alfred couldn’t identify them in any capacity – they wore non-script jeans and a grey hoodie along with a pair of gloves. But this was about digging up the war axe.

Grinning, he flipped the bird at them, and then proceeded to draw a thin line across his throat in an unmistakable message.

Alfred would see this as a chance to play hero. He would finally be able to prove to you how capable he is at protecting you, how attentive he would be when it would water down to your safety. Of course, he would make sure there would be a lot he wouldn’t catch wind off – it would be the instances where he would come off as an evil master mind or as a control freak that he would skilfully hide from you.

He might or might not elect to torture the fool that would be stalking you. For him, waterboarding that creep would be a method of stress relief. It would also drive home the point that nobody should dare try to get between him and his sweetie.

Canada

Besides you, your phone beeped for what must have been the twelfth time in the span of one minute. You sobbed harder and buried your face in his chest. Matthew calmly stroked your back, making quiet soothing noises as he held you close.

“(Ex) will have to leave you be someday. This can’t go on forever. One day that jerk will have to accept that you’re gone for good”, he told quietly, while cautiously shifting his position to a more comfortable one.

You were both on the backseat of his car, having sought sanctuary there after you started panicking upon seeing the messages. All the memories had started to overwhelm you, and you had gripped his arm as if it was the only thing that was preventing you from drowning.

“No, that won’t be the case. Before I met you, I tried to leave so often only to be lured back into it. It was only because I met you that I haven’t gone back”, you cried, gazing up at him with a tear-stricken face.

“Shh, I will think of something. There shall be hell to pay.”

Matthew would be concerned about your wellbeing first and foremost. He would cater to you, cuddle with you, sooth you. But don’t think that would mean he would go easy on you should you step out of line and try to flee from him. When he would say he would never let your ex take you back, he would be indirectly saying he would never allow you to leave him.

Naturally, he would be careful and avoid any explicit rhetoric stating that your place in the world is at his side, but the message would be there, hidden between the lines.

With the legal sway he would hold, he would easily have your ex punished in some capacity. This could range from a fine to a restrain order to spending some time in jail.

China

A scream pierced the silence of the night, followed by a yell as the attacker was swept off his feet. Yao didn’t hesitate to continue beating the culprit up, even though he was on the ground.

After all, this was a man that had just been a few milliseconds away from dragging you away and murdering you, after doing unspeakable things to you, things that couldn’t be lightly talked about in any context.

“So, you’re the vermin that has been butchering people left and right for the past four months. You’re just as disgusting as I expected”, Yao commented as he brought his foot down on his back in a harsh stamp.

You had taken seat on a tree stump that was standing by. The near death experience and the fight going on in front of you had utterly rattled you. You were numbly staring at the scene playing out, heads in your hands, whole body trembling and eyes wide blown.

He kicked the killer in the side and was rewarded was a grunt and a hiss: “And I’ll fucking kill you too.”

“Sure you will”, Yao drawled sarcastically and pressed the criminals head into the dirt. “Get used to the taste of it.”

Contrary to expectations, Yao would approach the situation of serial killer being after you calmy. Not because he wouldn’t care about you, but rather because he would be far to old to be surprised by such a – in his eyes – trivial thing. And because he would know that letting himself drown in anger or panic would just result in him making grave mistakes – ie. losing you.

Nevertheless, he would never be far off, lurking behind corners, just out of sight of you and the murderer. He would also scoure your online activity, searching for any suspicious doings from other users. Furthermore he would use the opportunity to learn more about you and your strengths and weaknesses.

England

“Ah, ah, ah. Keep your dirty paws off that”, Arthur chided Jane and firmly grabbed Jane by the ear, harshly tugging there. It wasn’t the most humane treatment of a mortal, that England knew very well. However, he was in a sour mood, your infuriating co-worker being one of the contributing factors to it. Besides, he hadn’t made it one of his life maximas to be nice.

“You dare”, she hissed. When he gave another sharp tug, she yelped and dropped your phone, showing one of your social media profiles. Jane Smithers was persistent, he would have to give her that. Yet that would just be her downfall because she had decided to use that trait to try to ruin your life.

“Oh yes I dare. I dare to not tolerate your disgusting behaviour. Between you and me, we’re going to have a very long talk about your morals.”

She snorted and grabbed his hand.

“I could sue you for sexual harassment. We’ll see if you’ll still be laughing then.”

Oh, he had expected such a threat to come from such a vile person as her. He chuckled lowly – did she really think she could best him when it came to anything.

“And then spend some time in the nick for lying to judge and jury. Don’t think you’d be able to weasel your way out of this. I’m the one here that can have your framed and believe me, I could get you a bloody life sentence.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending, before realisation dawned and she let out a harsh laugh.

“So that is how (l/n) did it. Slept the way to the top.”

“No. (Y/n) has talent, impeccable talent. So unlike you, my dearest never had to resort to the methods you were so kind to mentioned.”

Arthur would see it as his duty to protect you – your physical & mental wellbeing as well as your reputation. So of course he would go after any jealous co-worker that would try to ruin you to any extent. And as mentioned in the snippet above, he wouldn’t be exactly nice about it. Any means would do for him, as long as the risk of his machinations backfiring on him and you would be relatively low.

During the whole process, he would letting you know about everything. It would be his point of proving that the world is a horrible place and that you can only find solace in his company and attention.

France

Francis was in the kitchen when you came stumbling in, frazzled and panting as If you had just run a marathon. By the way your extremities were trembling and sweat dotted your forehead, he wouldn’t be surprised. The only question was why.

Aside from that, fear danced in your eyes, and that was the only further information he needed to know that something was wrong. Rushing forward, he scooped you in his arms, ignoring the coffee that he had been preparing, and asked you:

“What happened, ma cherie?”

Instead of answering, you leaned your head against his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his torso, taking heavy, laboured breaths, as if you were crying. That was when he realised that you were. It worried him.

Was this something that he had done? What had caused you to become so distressed? Was it something he could fix.

“You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to”, he offered shakily, unsure about what he should do to cheer you up. How could he, when he didn’t know why you were in such a state?

Thankfully, you supplied him with an explanation, one that caused his concern to freeze to ice cold anger: “There is some creep following me. He grabbed my butt when I got off the bus.”

Whoever that devil was, he was going to have hell to pay,

Francis would be enraged that somebody would be so disrespectful of your boundaries and of the fact that you’re already taken. In the brief moments of his more intense bouts of fury, he might do something as rash as to track the creep down and bludgeon him with something, probably a newspaper.

However, his preferred method would be character assassination (this would work especially well if the culprit in question would have a high social status) and verbal abuse. In this case, his revenge could be long-winded and very elaborate.

Russia

The temperature of the corridor had dropped since the last time he had visited – a testimony to the bad insulation and the approaching winter. Ivan thought it did her justice. After all, she did deserve this after nearly kidnapping you.

Speaking of her, she was sitting near the bars when he approached and when she glimpsed him, she quickly scooted away. Clever; she had learned from what had occurred the last time.

“Come to taunt me again?”, she seethed, curling into a tight, haggard ball of fury. Understandable in her case, however he wouldn’t shed any tears or have any sleepless nights.

“As is customary. I have to elevate your boredom somehow”, he confirmed, grabbing a chair and seating himself opposite her.

She stared at the door at the end of the passage, hungerly tracing it and searching the shadows for any sign of you. Ivan derived pleasure from mocking her: “How foolish are to think I would have brought my lover with me? I didn’t the last few times so why should it any different now?”

“You’re so very attached to (y/n), so I had my hopes.”

“Then I’ll have to forever dash them. That I owe you.”

She snarled at this; face twisted to a nasty frown.

“You know, you and I aren’t so different. So it is even more hypocritical of you to claim the moral high ground. Does (y/n) know even half of the things you’ve done in the name of your love?”

“I detest the comparison. I walk free while you rot in solitude, unloved and unwanted. While you have done everything wrong, I have done what was right where it counted most. You go very far by suggesting anything else.”

Russia would be the one to act the most intense of all the allies. He would have had people that were dear to him ripped away from him in the past, so he invest a lot of energy in insuring that wouldn’t happen to you and him.

That would mean he would go up to 11 in this case. As in, he would either kill this person and dissolve their body in acid or feed it to the pigs. Or he would leave this other yandere to rot somewhere after having dragged them before court for a very showy trail to break their spirit.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Reggie//i can't let you go now that i got it

Request: your last reggie mantle imagine was soooooo cute it was.... BIG FAV i'm still grinning! could you please do one where reader and reggie have been best friends their whole lives? she's super protective and sweet to him and like? she's been in love for years but has been hiding it well?? she gets him to come away with her to college because 'screw this town' and they live together? but eventually she starts going on dates and it makes him realize he's in love with her too?? mutual love confession

hey! so before you go any further trigger warning mentions of abuse, specifically around reggie and his dad. it’s not in detail but it is mentioned a few times so don’t read if that upsets you. the last thing i want you to be is sad. i hope you all have a good day anyway, whether you’re reading this or not! (title is from Børns ‘electric love’)

- For 18 years 

- Reggie Mantle has been the only constant in your life 

- Even when you were babies he was there 

- Your mom’s sat beside each other in baby class, cooing and awing over each other’s kids

- All while 6 month old you stole 6 month old Reggie’s toy

- And then he cried so hard he vomited on not only himself but you as well 

- Which then made you cry even louder 

- And then your mom’s were asked to leave 

- So instead

- It became a weekly thing for your mom to take you to The Mantle’s 

- While her and Mrs Mantle gossiped and drank tea 

- You and Reggie would hit each other with various stuffed toys. 

- As you got older 

- The weekly visits turned into daily ones 

- Especially when you moved three houses away from him

- You and Reggie started to see each other more than your own parents did

- Your mom still went over once a week

- But when she arrived you were always usually there

- Either stood in the kitchen getting a snack 

- Or lying on Reggie’s bed watching an awful movie he just ‘had to show you’ 

- They usually involved a hybrid of two animals

- Sometimes mythical, sometimes not 

- But in all of them they were usually taking over the world

- They also always had the same four actors in

- But despite how much you protested 

- ‘reggie? are you being serious? we watched this one last time.’ 

- ‘no, we watched molemaid last time. this is medusamaid. they’re completely different’ 

- ‘oh, sorry. my mistake’

- You actually secretly loved them 

- Because they made him happy

- You would watch in awe as he laughed at stupid jokes 

- And how his eyes would always light up at a particularly gruesome part, no matter how badly CGI’d it was

- You also listened to the countless of theories as to how ‘hurrik9’ is clearly the prequel to ‘hellhounds’ because ‘they’ve got the same main character! it doesn’t matter if they’re not played by the same person. y/n, they’ve got the same name.’ 

- You also listened to him complain about the inconsistencies between ‘werewombats 1’ and ‘werewombats 2’

- ‘no matter how much the director stands by the decision to make them turn on each other, despite the first film clearly stating that that’s the last thing they’d do.’ 

- But the thing you loved the most about it 

- Was that he was only ever this way with you

- You’d been sworn to secrecy when you walked in on him watching ‘dinocano vs uniquake’ 

- And you promised never to tell anyone about his secret passion

- Or the fact that he had a stack of notebooks filled with plots and mini scripts for his own films. 

- Reggie may have gotten popular

- But to you, he’s still the same Reggie you’ve always known.

- Whose scared of clowns but won’t admit it

- And cried when watching Edward Scissorhands but if anybody asks it was you

- And who hates hot chocolate, but its the only thing he’ll drink when he’s sick 

- He also only eats pink marshmallows in months ending in R

- And white ones every other month 

- But in December he has both...because its Christmas.

- Yeah, you and Reggie are best friends 

- Always have been, always will

- But it doesn’t stop you from wanting more.

- It doesn’t stop the longing looks when you think no one is watching 

- Or the lingering touches whenever he hugs you

- It doesn’t stop your heartbeat picking up whenever he walks into a room

- Or how you forget how to breathe whenever he looks at you

- You look forward to everyday, even if you have a pop quiz or homework you only remembered the night before

- Because he’s going to be there to make you smile

- Even if he isn’t doing it on purpose 

- You look forward to the countless of texts he sends

- No matter how weird or ridiculous 

- Like when he text you at half three in the morning to ask if birds were real because somebody told him they weren’t.

- You then got a text straight afterwards telling you that it would be great idea for a plot

- And you still answer every single one

- No matter how stupid they are 

- It’s really a wonder how you get any sleep with your phone being on loud all the time

- But it’s worth it

- Especially when you get texts like 

- ‘he’s done it again’ 

- Reggie’s relationship with his father complicated to say the least

- You remember when you were younger they used to be best friends 

- Reggie idolized him 

- And you’d have conversations in Reggie’s tree house, about how much he wanted to be just like his dad when he grew up

- But when he did grow up

- And started to develop a personality that didn’t just revolve around football 

- Reggie no longer wanted to be just like his dad 

- He wanted to be the furthest thing from him

- The first time it happened 

- Reggie tried his hardest to hide it from you 

- And for the first time in 8 years 

- You went two days without seeing each other 

- On the third day though 

- You’d had enough 

- So you went round to see him 

- But when you asked his mom if he was in 

- She lied and told you he had just gone out 

- Even though you could clearly see him trying and failing to hide on the stairs

- So you did what any normal friend would do 

- You climbed through his bedroom window 

- With about as much grace and steal as you could muster 

- Which surprisingly, wasn’t a lot

- And you gave him the fright of his life 

- ‘what the hell are you doing here?’ 

- ‘you’re avoiding me’ 

- ‘i’m not. i’ve just been...busy’ 

- ‘doing what? fighting?’ 

- ‘what?’

- ‘your eye’ 

- ‘oh yeah...that’ 

- That was when you knew something was wrong 

- You’ve known Reggie your entire laugh 

- And you know the three things he’ll always boast about 

- Girls, football and fighting 

- ‘what happened?’ 

- When he told you 

- You couldn’t believe what he was saying 

- You wanted to find Marty Mantle and give him a black eye...see how he likes it 

- But Reggie begged you not to do or say anything 

- ‘it’ll only make it worse’ 

- ‘but its wrong. he should be locked up’

- ‘who’s going to believe me?’ 

- ‘me’ 

- ‘see...it was only one time anyway’ 

- So you agreed, reluctantly 

- And you so wanted to believe it

- But then a few weeks later he turned up to school with a bust lip

- A month after that another bruise around his eye that he tried to hide behind sunglasses 

- And by the time graduation rolled around 

- Both of you had lost count of the sunglasses and excuses 

- For three years he’d been trapped in a house with a father who thought hitting was the same as love 

- And a mother who pretended it didn’t happen 

- But now college was round the corner and that meant a chance for both of you

- Or at least thats what you thought

- ‘you didn’t get in?’ 

- ‘i didn’t get in.’ 

- ‘to any of them?’ 

- ‘nope’

- ‘reggi-’

- ‘it’s fine. my dad has always wanted me to work for him. i guess this will make him happy. even if i am the cleaner’ 

- ‘reg-’ 

- ‘please go’

- That summer was the longest one of your life 

- It was even longer that the time Reggie had to get his appendix out and so you couldn’t hang out for a 3 weeks.

- For two and a half months 

- You heard nothing from Reggie 

- You text, called, DM’d and even E-mailed

- But you got nothing 

- You went round at all times of the day to try and talk to him

- And every time Mrs Mantle answered and told you he was either out or busy

- Doing homework was her favourite excuse

- And Reggie has only ever done homework when you were doing the majority of it 

- You even tried climbing in through his window again 

- But he locked it 

- So you watched every morning as he dragged himself into his dad’s car

- Wearing a stiff suit and a miserable expression 

- No matter how hard you tried to get to him before the left 

- How fast you ran or how early you got to his house

- They were always long gone before you managed to get anywhere close to him

- You missed the midnight texts about nothing 

- You missed his stupid jokes 

- You missed watching an entire room light up whenever he walked in

- You missed the way he made you feel, even if he was unaware of it 

- You even missed watching his god-awful movies 

- You just missed him 

- And when he missed your leaving party 

- That was the final straw

- At 7am the next morning 

- You shoved the last of your boxes in the back of your car 

- Said goodbye to your parents 

- And drove away

- Three houses down the street 

- Making sure your parents had gone back inside before stopping 

- You sat outside for a few minutes 

- Trying to think of what to do or say 

- You knew his mom would answer the door

- And that you’d get the same excuses 

- You also knew from the past few experiences that his window would still be locked 

- So you threw rocks at his bedroom window in the hopes that when he’d check to see what it was, he’d leave it unlocked 

- And he did! 

- You watched from behind a bush as he hung his head out the window to look around

- His brow furrowed and hair messy

- Clearly he’d just woke up

- You couldn’t help the smile twitching at your lips 

- You’d missed that face 

- Climbing the window was a lot harder than it used to be 

- Mr Mantle had taken the ladders away 

- Another reason as to why he sucked

- But you managed eventually 

- And you almost died only twice 

- Which is good 

- It’s better than three 

- You landed on the carpet with a loud thud that made him jump half way across the room

- ‘y/n. what the hell are you doing here?’

- ‘it’s moving day. and i must say i’m very disappointed at the lack of preparation on your part. have you even started packing yet?’

- ‘it’s not funny y/n’

- ‘i know. do you see me laughing?’

- ‘i’m being serious y/n. just leave’ 

- ‘no’ 

- ‘what?’

- ‘the last time you told me to leave, i listened and i didn’t see you for two months, so no’ 

- ‘what about college’ 

- ‘what about it?’ 

- ‘it starts in three days’ 

- ‘i know. and if we stand here any longer we’re going to miss it. so get packed and lets go. it’s a nine hour drive and i’m not doing all of that alone’ 

- ‘you know i can’t go’ 

- ‘says who?’ 

- ‘my dad, every single college i applied for and me’ 

- ‘listen to me reggie. you are my best friend, you have been since we were babies. there’s not a part of my life you haven’t been in. do you really think that would stop at college?’ 

- ‘we didn’t spend the summer together’ 

- ‘and it was the worst summer of my life’ 

- ‘same...but that might have been because i was spending 12 hours a day in an office’ 

- ‘rude. but i’ll take it!’ 

- ‘i did miss you though. it was weird not seeing your face everyday’ 

- That makes your cheeks heat up and you have to force the flutter in your chest to go away

- ‘it always cheers me up’ 

- There it goes again and you want to claw at your chest until it’s no longer there 

- Hope is a terrible thing to have when you’ve been in love with your best friend for your entire life

- ‘you always cheer me up’ 

- Oh dear...

- ‘i love you...a-as a friend. this summer has been the longest and most depressing for both of us. i don’t want to live the rest of my life like that. i need you reggie. so please pack your bags, say screw you to your dad and to this town and lets go’ 

- ‘what about money? where am i going to live?’ 

- ‘we’ll figure that out on the way there. just hurry up’ 

- And he did 

- You and Reggie threw the majority of his belongings into any bag you could find

- He took all the money he’d been saving out of the poorly disguised fake plant

- And wrote a nice little note for his parents 

- You also may have added a few choice words to it 

- But what Reggie doesn’t know won’t hurt him 

- And the two of you climbed into your car and never looked back

- The 9 hour car ride was the most fun you’ve ever had 

- It was like you were trying to fit the entire summer you’d lost into those few hours 

- It was filled with off key singing 

- And stories of your summer 

- His favourite being about Archie being tricked into going skinny dipping by himself

- You laughed loudly like nothing had happened 

- And cried silently because everything had 

- Thankfully when you arrived on campus, it was already night 

- So you managed to sneak Reggie into your room

- And when you nervously told your roommate 

- She just grinned at you

- ‘it’s fine, my boyfriend will probably be staying over a lot too’ 

- ‘oh, he’s not my boyfriend’ 

- ‘we’re not together’ 

- ‘...okay’ 

- She said with a knowing smile and you and Reggie shared a look

- And a year filled with adventures started

- Reggie got a job as a bartender with a little help from Veronica 

- And you started your classes 

- But nothing is ever easy 

- At least not when it involves you or Reggie 

- It turns out hiding a whole human is a lot more difficult that you anticipated. 

- It involves Reggie squeezing into your closet 

- And a whole team of people to get him to and from the showers 

- But it was also difficult for another reason

- Because it was easy to hide your feelings from him when you lived in separate house 

- But now you’re sharing a room

- And a bed 

- And every time he would wrap his arms around you 

- And pull in for a half asleep cuddle 

- You’d forget how to breathe 

- You’ve never been more excited to wake up

- Because he’d be all messy hair and parted lips with just a little bit of drool coming out of them that it would be cute instead of gross 

- And when he said good morning in the same deep, tired voice 

- You wanted to live in that feeling forever 

- But then 2nd year rolled around and everything changed 

- It all started when you moved into your own apartment 

- You knew you had to but there was a part of you that hoped you could keep everything the same 

- You found a tiny, two bedroom flat that you could both just about afford 

- Reggie was so happy to have his own room

- ‘i won’t have to sleep next to you and your freezing cold feet anymore’ 

- ‘i’ll just sneak into your bed when your fast asleep and put them on you then instead’ 

- ‘i thought we were supposed to be friends’ 

- It took a few weeks to get used to an empty bed 

- But eventually you started to sleep properly 

- And it was quite nice to have your own space again

- It meant you could study without having to listen to ‘nighthawk nightmare’ 

- Honestly, you don’t really know what the plot of that one is 

- But you’ve still seen it 7 times 

- You may be in love with him but it doesn’t mean he can’t be annoying sometimes 

- And you were happy with going back to admiring from afar

- Your heart can’t get broken that way

- In fact a small part of you thought he felt the same way 

- That one glimmer of hope you felt a year ago

- Came back all of sudden 

- And soon 

- You became aware of the lingering touches 

- And the gifts he’d buy you just because 

- He also asked what you wanted to watch for your movie night 

- And he’s never, ever done that unless you were sad or sick

- And even then, when you broke your arm a few years ago, he chose the film

- The way he looked at you suddenly felt different 

- You would feel him staring, but when you would check he would always be scrolling through his phone 

- And you’re sure the was a little bit of flirtiness in his tone whenever he spoke to you 

- But just because you think you can’t be burnt if you stand far enough away from the fire 

- Doesn’t mean that the sparks can’t jump out and get you anyway 

- Because all of sudden Reggie started bringing girls home 

- And every time you saw a t-shirt that wasn’t yours on the sofa 

- Or a pair of shoes discarded by the door

- You felt yourself die a little

- After a few weeks of this 

- Something in you snapped

- You’d spent the majority of your life pining after some boy who saw you as nothing more than a friend 

- And sometimes a small part of you thought as just an escape route

- So you moped for a few weeks before deciding it was finally time to move on

- Reggie would only ever see you as a friend 

- And that’s fine 

- The only way to move on, is to move on. 

- So you waited for the right guy to move on with 

- And there were a few 

- But none of them were right 

- Until you met Daniel 

- Sweet Daniel with curly brown hair and dimples

- Who studied history 

- And spent his days sitting in the coffee shop on campus

- For a few weeks the two of you spent your short interactions stealing glances and exchanging shy smiles 

- That evolved to small talk with flirty undertones

- Until finally he asked you out 

- And you said yes 

- And you kept saying yes to each date afterwards 

- They were fun too

- He’d take you to museum's and on picnics and at night he’d pick you up and you’d go star gazing 

- He would make you laugh when he’d tell you a joke 

- And make you blush when he’s whisper in your ear while staring up at the sky 

- But he wasn’t him

- And that killed you

- It doesn’t matter how many time he takes you to watch some unknown indie film thats supposed to be the greatest thing ever made

- It has nothing on standing outside the only cinema in town that’s showing ‘sharkcano vs tigerana’ in the freezing cold with Reggie wearing an absolutely ridiculous costumes that Reggie threw together last minute and somehow roped you into wearing too.

- But what hurt even more was watching how Reggie acted around you when you and Daniel started dating 

- He looked hurt whenever he saw the two of you together 

- And you would watch him roll his eyes whenever you mentioned him 

- Until eventually he would just avoid you all together 

- Do you know how hard it is to avoid someone when you’re living in the same 2 bedroom flat that barely gives two foot to yourself? 

- It’s hard 

- But Reggie finds a way 

- Eventually you’re more roommates than friends 

- And you really don’t know how much more you can take 

- You feel like you’re about to break 

- And Daniel can see that too

- So on Friday night he invites you to go drinking with him and his friends instead of staying in and moping 

- ‘bye, i’m going out’ 

- ‘wait’ 

- The speed of which he runs from his room and into the living room where your stood, startles you to say the least 

- ‘what?’

- ‘don’t go out with him.’ 

- ‘why not? what ever george has told you about is a lie. george does that. he once told a bunch of people that you streaked in an old people’s home and almost killed his grandmother’ 

- ‘because he isn’t me’ 

- You’ve dreamt of those words 

- Built them up in your head for years 

- But in all of your daydreams, there’s never been a scenario like this one 

- Not one where you’re about to leave to go on a date with another guy 

- ‘reggie? what are you talking about?’ 

- You need to make sure he’s saying what you think he’s saying 

- Because you can feel yourself hoping again

- And you know if he doesn’t mean what you want him to

- You don’t think you’ll be able to recover

- ‘i love you y/n. you’re my best friend, you always have been, you always will be and i love you.’ 

- ‘reg-’ 

- ‘please tell me you feel the same way’ 

- ‘i-’ 

- In your head you had a full oscar worthy speech planned out just in case this ever happened 

- But now you’re here in the moment. 

- You have no idea what to say

- ‘it doesn’t matter. just leave’ 

- ‘no’ 

- ‘what?’ 

- ‘do you really think i’m going to walk away from you after that? when have i ever walked away from you?’ 

- ‘i-no’

- ‘i love you too by the way. if you care’ 

- ‘shut up...wait really?’ 

- ‘yes i do. i’ve loved you for as long as i can remember so are you going to just stand there or are you going to kiss me?’ 

- ‘i’m definitely going to kiss you’ 

- ‘good’ 

- And he does 

- He’s standing in front of you before you can catch your breath

- His hands reach up to cup your cheeks 

- His lips part as he stares down at you 

- And you’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he’s looking at you

- Like you’re everything good and light in the universe 

- And like he’s also been waiting just as long for this moment 

- Maybe he has 

- Maybe he’s been waiting all his life for this 

- He just didn’t know 

- You feel whatever breath you had left leave your lungs

- His lips are soft against yours, but he gets his point across 

- And you’ve never been happier 

- All the heartache and tears 

- The laughter and stupid jokes 

- The 3am texts 

- The constant worrying 

- The early mornings and late nights 

- The damage to limbs from trying to fit in tiny closets

- And the scrapes on your ankles and bruising on your legs from crawling through his bedroom window 

- They’re all worth it

- ‘are you still going on your date?’ 

- ‘what do you think?’ 

- ‘good. because they’ve just released werewombats 3’

[songbirdsingingthings]

Chapter One: The Social Season Begins

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is my first multiple chapter fic! I was heavily inspired by Netflix’s Bridgerton, but I do not intend to stick to its script. The show and the fic are meant to be seat during the early 19th century (1810 -1830) so a lot of things like technology will not be present. Also, this is a quirkless au so no one is going to posses any powers. I plan for this fic to be between 8 and 12 chapters, but we’ll see as we go along. I hope you all enjoy <3!

Next Chapter ~ Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9K

When social season rolled around, all bets were off. The most vicious of claws and fangs were disguised by beautiful dresses and headpieces, followed by the batting of eyelashes and the oh so precarious movements of feathered fans. It happened every year - hundreds of Musutafu’s young ladies braved the social scene in the pursuit of a husband either of their own status or higher. This year was no exception, in fact, it was shaping up to be one of the most influential seasons to date. Several of the most eligible and prestigious lords, viscounts, and barons would be attending the numerous balls that were in the works. While it was expected of the young women to pair up and find a love-match, such relationships always proved to be half-successful. Of course they would be married and well taken care of, but too often did you hear of wives maintaining an empty manor whilst their husbands were off gallivanting at their clubs, or more likely, at brothels. This proved to be your biggest fear - you wanted the beautiful relationship your parents had. The one where your father doted on your mother, bringing her flowers on random days because he happened to see them and think of her. One where he dutifully raised their children together, never once undermining her abilities due to her gender. And one where, right up until her very last breath, he held her hand and whispered sweet nothings to her. It was a sorrowful day when your mother died, but your father carried on in her place, raising you and your elder brother in the most proper and loving way he could. This encouraged you to go forth with your head held high. You would find the one you were meant to be with and not just be a part of a silly little love-match.

“Oh Lady Yagi, you look absolutely wonderful.” With a deep breath you met your eyes in the mirror in front of you and let out a little gasp. The dress you were wearing was utterly gorgeous. It was a very pale blue, even lighter than the powder blue that covered your bedroom walls, and had the most beautiful little detailed flowers scattered across it. There weren’t enough to mistake you with a garden, but there were plenty there to compare you to the most gorgeous dogwood. The necklace that lay across your neck was much daintier than what others tended to wear but you adored it - after all, it was your mother’s. And resting softly on your head was a matching tiara with both diamonds and light blue sapphires.

“My, Mei, you have simply outdone yourself.” You whisper. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of your reflection, the twinkles and glimmers of the jewels doing wonders to accentuate your features.

“Lady Yagi, how you make me swoon,” Mei exclaims, feigning a faint. You giggle at her and swat her gently with your fan. The two of you make small talk as she adds finishing details to your look; smoothing out hairs here and there, clipping in your diamond earrings, and slipping your silk gloves onto your hands.

“Y/N, my sister, we must be heading off!” A call echoed from just outside your room, coming from the main hall downstairs.

“And not a moment too soon, my nerves have been getting the best of me.” You say, a wide smile covering your face. You descended upon the grand staircase to see both your father and your elder brother waiting for you.

“My word! Y/N, my darling, you look divine!” Your father exclaimed, walking forward to place a ghost kiss to your cheek, not daring to mess up Mei’s handiwork. You smiled at your father and looked at your brother.

“Izuku, you look quite dashing.” You tell him, earning a grin from his freckled face. “Hoping to see Lady Uraraka this evening?” A blush quickly covered his face.

“Well, yes, she had told me she would be attending earlier when we took a promenade around- hold on, this is your special evening we need to be discussing.” Izuku says, switching the topic onto you. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took his arm as the three of you made your way into the horse-drawn carriage waiting for you in front of your house. The three of you entered, your father and brother careful of your long dress, and then you were off.

“So my dear, are you excited? Nervous?” Your father asks. You smile and inspect your gloved hands.

“Both. I just wish…” you trail off. Your father leans down to meet your gaze with slight concern in his eyes.

“Wish what?” He says, urging you to continue. A small sigh escapes your mouth as you look back up.

“Father, you have done wonderfully to raise both Izuku and I without Mother here. I think both of us agree on that fact.” You begin. Izuku nods and offers the both of you a grin. “I just wish that she was here. To tell me of what she was feeling when she debuted, how she calmed the churning in her stomach.” You confess, your hands now clenched. You were met with a sad smile from your father.

“How I wish for that as well, my dear. She would always tell me how excited she was for you to embark on your own marital journey. And, while I in no means shared the same experience as she did, I can tell you of what I was feeling.” He says. You look up, curiosity flashing in your eyes.

“Please,” you say, prompting him to tell you. He laughs and leans back on the leather seated cushion.

“Well I, like your brother, had an easy time finding the women we would want to spend the rest of our lives with.” Your father’s sentence earned a blush from Izuku, but no words of contention. I suppose we will be welcoming Lady Uraraka to our family soon, you thought smiling to yourself. “I was a nervous wreck, though, when my eyes found your mother. She was absolutely divine - like the gods had graced the earth specifically with her. She was quick to forgive my nerves and the slight stutter in my voice as I introduced myself to her, and things just seemed to run its own course from there.” You could see the wistful gaze in your father’s eyes as he thought of your mother. “Inko was a most gracious woman, both in mind and beauty. And those qualities, my dear, were passed on to you.” His hand came to cradle your cheek, brushing away the tears that started to well in your eyes. “But this is no time to be in despair, no, it is time to be quite the opposite than that. It’s time for you to find love.”

The carriage stopped rather abruptly, but you didn’t care. You gathered the train of your dress in your hand and were practically buzzing by the time the footmen opened the door. Your father stepped out first followed by Izuku, the latter of which offered a hand to you as you stepped out. The venue was absolutely gorgeous, and it was no surprise considering the man hosting it. Lord Takami was a rather benevolent and expressive man and those traits bled right into his events. With lanterns dotted all over the front steps and the ballroom, candles that seemed to float in midair, and the most magnificent smelling floral arrangements you had ever seen, you understood perfectly - this was what it must’ve felt like for your mother. Out of the corner of your eye, a pretty brunette started to drift towards you and your family, a bashful smile set across her face. Before you had a chance to speak, Izuku stepped in front of you and your father.

“Lady Uraraka, what a pleasure to see you here.” Your brother says, his hand extending to her gloved one.

“It’s truly all mine, My Lord.” She responds as a shy smile flickers across her face. Izuku spares you and your father a nod and a grin before he leads Lady Uraraka towards the middle of the floor, the two melting into the dance being performed seamlessly.

“Those two make such a divine and true love-match, don’t you agree Father?” You gush. Just seeing your brother so hopelessly in love was enough to make your heart flutter.

“I do, my dear,” he chuckles upon seeing your expression, “but we are not here to solely admire them. There will be plenty of time to do that at their wedding,” your father quips, earning a laugh from you. “Let’s get you introduced and dancing, hmm?” Your evening was full of re-introducing yourself to mutual acquaintances and establishing new ones in other young men. You made sure to only dance with those you felt could be a possible match for you, but as time went on you started to lose hope. It’s not that the men were horrid by any means - well, with the exception of one Lord Mineta - but nothing about them seemed to stir your heart. You currently found yourself in a most dull conversation with Baron Ojirou.

“Forgive me, Lord Ojirou, I must get some air. All of this dancing has made me quite light-headed,” you say, excusing yourself.

“Oh! Would you like me to accompany you, Lady Yagi?” He asks nicely. You raise your hand in denial but give him a light smile.

“There is no need. I wouldn’t want to impose on your evening, I will just be a few moments.” You say, slipping away to the outdoor gardens. It was dark, but the luminescence coming from inside Lord Takami’s manor provided enough light so that you could see. You made your way over to the stone railings that bordered the rose garden and held onto it with both of your gloved hands, heaving a sigh. “My goodness…” you whisper, heaving a sigh. The night air nipped a bit at your skin but you paid no mind to it. What does catch your attention, though, was the light footsteps that were approaching you from behind. “Lord Ojirou, as I said before, there is no need-” You begin, but stop immediately when you are met with someone else. He was much different than the man you had just been recently talking to - physically more reserved, taller, and much much handsomer. Even with the scar covering the left side of his face, his presence was enough to make a woman swoon. “Forgive me.” you manage, curtsying a bit.

“Oh, no, it is I who should be apologizing. Pardon my interruption on your… outing.” He says awkwardly. This earns a slight giggle from you. 

“This was merely a simple break from the clamor inside.” you say, relaxing a bit more. Before the man could say another word, you see Izuku catch your eye from the steps.

“Y/N! There you are, Father and I have been looking everywhere- Shouto?” Your brother says shocked, his eyes meeting the man across from you.

“Izuku?” He responds, bewilderment flickering across his face.

“My word, it’s been a while! How as your father, the Duke of Endeavor, faring these days?”

“D-Duke?” You stutter out, in awe of the man’s title. Izuku catches your confusion and gives you a smile. 

“Forgive me for not introducing you! Todoroki, this is me dear sister, Y/N.” The man, now known to you as Shouto Todoroki, gave you a quick nod. “Y/N, this is Shouto Todoroki. The son of the Duke.”

[dreamescapeswriting]

Empty Shell ~ JJK [Part 2] [Request]

Part One Here

↬↬↬Word Count: 2.1k

↬↬↬Genre: Angst with Fluff

↬↬↬Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader

It had been three long months since your breakup with Jungkook happened and he had done nothing but try and win you back from the moment you hung up that phone. He'd call you all the time, call your agent and manager to try and smooth something over with them but it wasn't happening.

"The last shoot of the day come on people!" The direction screamed through a megaphone, you were on a private beach for one of the movie scenes today. Filming the honeymoon between the couple in the movie with your co-worker who seemed to be doing a better job flirting with the staff than working with you. Woo Do-hwan was your co-star for the film and it had been nice working with him but it was hard when all he did was flirt with everyone including you, despite you turning him down every time he asked you out for a drink. At first, you thought it was only friendly banter between workers but then you heard about his past with other actresses and you began turning him down stricter wanting it known that you weren't interested in dating right now.

"Do-hwan! Y/n!" You walked over to the direction who stood you in place while stylists began working on your hair to make sure it was in the right way before the camera started rolling,

"Remember, you're young, in love, recently married and you're making up after your first huge fight as a married couple. The kiss has to be heated and have passion, okay?" You looked at Do-hwan who was nodding along to everything the director was saying, he took his directions like a champ while you tried not to think of Jungkook while you performed the scenes. The fight scene had been some of the most amazing acting you'd ever done in your life because you'd channelled all the anger you had for Jungkook into it.

"Action!" You fell into character and so did Do-hwan, he took your hand in his and lifted it up to sit on his chest while he stared deep into your eyes,

"I would never do anything to hurt you, you know that right." His eyes were filling with tears already and you shook your head at him, biting on your lip as you tried to remember your lines.

"You don't get it, what you said hurt me, everything you did back there hurt me." Your voice cracked but the cameras kept rolling,

"When I heard what you were-"

"I didn't mean it, I meant none of the things I was saying I was just trying to get her to give me information, you know you mean everything to me." You whimpered shaking your head at him and looking around at the beach, throwing your arms up.

"Look at where we are, we're supposed to be on our honeymoon and yet we're fighting we never should have gotten married." You went to walk away from him but he pulled you back so your hand was resting on his bare chest as you both breathed heavily.

"Do you really believe that? Because I don't!" You shook your head eyes flicking between his eyes and lips before he grabbed the back of your head and kissed you passionately. You felt nothing, it was just a kiss between you and Do-hwan you'd had plenty of them before but you knew how to make it look real for the cameras.

"Cut!" The cameras stopped rolling and you pulled away from Do-hwan who smiled at you, wiping away the tears that were rolling down your cheeks.

"You should call him or move on, no use holding onto the past." You smiled softly not wanting to take advice from him, your agent came over with a towel, wrapping your body up, Do-hwan walked away to go and talk to the director while you stood in the sand looking up at the sun. You were going to miss being able to come to the beach whenever you had the time off,

"You did great! One more month here and then it's back home." She hated the heat you were having in Venice, she would much rather be at home where she was used to her weather.

"Any news-" You stopped talking when you saw someone in the corner of your eye, she caught your face falling and she began trying to stop you from walking over to the person you'd seen dash behind a bunch of camera crew.

"Who was that?" You questioned dropping the towel from around your body, your agent began yelling that it was no one when she clearly knew who it was and what he was doing there. You took off over to him and stood with your hands on your hips staring at him as he tried to act like he wasn't there,

"This is a closed set Jungkook what are you doing here?" He looked at you in the eyes before he scanned your body, you looked better than ever before standing in front of him like that and it only made him miss you more than he did.

"Y/n," You looked up when you heard Yoongi's voice coming through, he'd been the only one to know where and what you were doing from the moment you left Korean. You had thought you could trust him but it was becoming clear now that you couldn't considering Jungkook was standing in front of you.

"Yoongi I trusted you-"

"Don't blame him, I made him tell me where you were and who you were with I see now that it was a mistake to come here." You hated that he was being so calm about all of this as if he hadn't broken your heart that day at the venue.

"Everything alright?" Do-hwan's voice rang out, you looked over your shoulder at him as he eyed up the boys who were now all staring up at him.

"You're dating again?" Jungkook questioned,

"And if she is? What does it have anything to do with you? From what I heard you broke her-"

"Do-hwan, leave it. Go back to the hotel or something." You'd had many late nights with him going over the script together which lead to talking about why you weren't going to take it at first but then decided to.

"You've been talking about me?" You looked over at your agent who was packing up your things, Yoongi looked down and walked away knowing that you wanted to be alone with Jungkook while you spoke about things.

"I had to explain why I spent most of my nights crying when everyone else was having fun," You didn't even know why you were entertaining the fact that he was there. Maybe deep down you wanted him to come back but there was no forgiving what he had said and done to you that night at the venue.

"You should go. Looks like the boys don't want to be here." You walked away from him ignoring as he called after you to stay and talk to him, you couldn't do it. One move and you would be back in his arms like it never happened and you didn't want that, he had to say sorry for what he'd done to you. Realise that he'd made a mistake and wasn't just going to get forgiven like they did in all of the books and movies because it was real like, not something he could fuck around with and hope to fix later on.

Later that night there was a knock on your hotel room door, you expected to see Jungkook standing there but instead it was Yoongi holding up a box of pizza with his gummy smile on his face,

"What?" You whispered pulling open the door for him to come in, he put the pizza down on the bed and held up his hands.

"I come in peace to talk to you about Jungkook." You groaned loudly going over to the pizza and taking a slice, you didn't want to talk about Jungkook. For the last five hours after seeing him you'd done nothing but think about the way he looked at you and how you wanted to be back in his arms again, give anything to be there with him.

"You know he's barely left his room for three months." You bit into the pizza letting him explain everything that had been happening back home.

"He started by sending you gifts to your home but they got returned since you weren't there. Then when he found out I knew where you were he did nothing but beg me to tell him." You knew he'd told him about the hotel you were staying at because you woke up every day to breakfast at your door with your favourite flower on the tray with it. Along with a romantic quote written on a card with his initials. You had to give it to him he had been trying hard to get you back and if you were going, to be honest with yourself it was working on winning you over.

"He's been like this empty shell ever since you left, he wouldn't leave his room and when he did he wasn't Jungkook anymore." You put down the slice of pizza and stared at Yoongi who seemed upset that all of this was happening.

"He wouldn't eat or sleep until he knew you were okay or if I would just tell him something to make him calm down. He was worried sick." You stared down at the pizza looking at Yoongi as you came to a decision about what you were going to do.

"Here," He handed you a room key with his room number on and you got up and headed to the door, you didn't care that you were in sweatpants and a tank top right now, you needed answers from him and answers were what you were going to get.

"Yoongi!? Did you go and see-" He stopped talking once he saw that it was you entering his hotel room he was sharing with Yoongi, he was at a loss for words. Even dressed like that you looked beautiful to him, his first instinct was to beg for you to forgive him but he knew you too well to know that that wasn't going to work it was time for a serious conversation.

"Did you mean what you said? About finishing things?" He shook his head at you sitting down on the edge of the bed and bringing you down beside him, you stared at the side of his face as he began explaining what he did and how he knew it was wrong.

"I was stressed and I know it isn't an excuse. I was also bragging because I'd never had someone as beautiful as you take interest in me, someone, who I was scared to lose but went and lost anyway." You felt your heart sink as he looked at you with tear-filled eyes,

"Jungkook there's nothing you can say to make that day go away," You still relived it no matter how hard you tried not to, it still replayed over and over again in your head.

"I know but I want to try and make it up to you, try and make things right with you." You stared at him staring into his eyes trying to search for any sign that this could all be true, that he was willing to make amends for everything he had said and done that day.

"Jungkook-"

"Please, I know it's not going to be easy but I am willing to try, please let me make it up to you." His hands were holding onto yours, you felt the familiar spark ignite from your skin touching and you teared up, not wanting to give up right away you nodded.

"One date...Then we see where it goes from there." You weren't going to give in straight away just because you were hopelessly in love with him, he had to realise what he did was wrong and you weren't going to let him just get away with it.

"You won't regret it, I promise." He lifted your hand up to his lips and placed a small kiss on the top of it, pulling it away before smiling lovingly at you. You could already tell by the look in his eyes that you weren't going to regret this, that this was the right decision and everything would be back to how it was supposed to be soon.

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @snowy-meowl​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @lynnthevirgo​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @rjsmochii​ @callingmyangel​ @innersooya​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​

[formeandmyfics]

Jugenea Fan Fiction

LET’S JUST SEE WHERE IT GOES

During pre-production of For Me and My Gal, Gene comes to a realization

photo credit: @ohmygarlands​

(I wasn’t gonna post this as I don’t think I’m very good at ‘pre-jugenea’, but a friend convinced me otherwise. It’s not my best, but still a fun read)

1942

"Judy, focus, girl, focus," Busby Berkeley's frustrated yell echoed in the empty rehearsal hall as his little starlet tripped on her footing once again. During a turn, she went the opposite way, tripped over Gene's leg and almost fell until he caught her hand. Judy's hand slipped from Gene's as she regained her balance and she turned away from the men, her hands on her hips. Breathing heavy from their long rehearsal of the choreography for the 'My Gal' sequence, Gene looked down feeling horribly. He had never seen her imbalanced like this before, not just on her feet but her concentration as well. He could tell she was disappointed with herself, though would never admit that to 'Uncle Buzz'. "Judy, you need to get this down asap. This is the most crucial dance to the picture," Buzz said less loudly but with a very stern tone as he turned her to face him. She refused to look up at him and he went on, "Do you hear me? We've gone through this sequence over and over. If you can't get this, we might as well scratch the whole film!" "Hey," Gene said stern himself, "She's trying her best."

"She is not trying her best," Buzz said eyeing her down before turning to Gene, "I've known her much longer than you have, Gene. She's slacking off." Gene saw Judy's eyes tear up and he took a step closer, "You may have worked with her longer, but this girl works her ass off for you people. Give her some room to breathe and back...off." Buzz turned to Gene and pointed his finger at him, "Next time you talk to me like that, I talk to Freed. You're new here, Kelly, and very easily replaced." With that, he turned and started walking away, "Get it right," he said before slamming the heavy door behind him. Gene let out a heavy breath through his nose before he turned back to Judy. Holding his hand out, he wiggled his fingers, motioning for her to continue with him, "Come on." "Just give me a second," she replied as she paced a little bit having a moment to get herself together. He waited, patiently, knowing she was a tough girl and let her have her moment. But, when he suddenly heard a sob escape her, he felt so protective and just wanted to scoop her up. Screw the rehearsal, he thought, and pulled up a chair, "Sit down, Darlin’. Come here." "I'll be alright," her voice sounded very irritable. “No, come here,” he persisted and she did just that. "Want to talk about it?" When she didn't answer, he continued, well aware of the problems she was having in her new marriage from what she had told him, "Dave?" "That's part of it." Gene could feel her holding back and he decided not to push it. One thing about Judy was that if she wanted to, she would. They were both quiet for a long moment, in comfortable silence, only sounds of the birds outside the cracked window was heard. "No one's ever done that for me before, you know." "Done what, honey?" "Stand up to Buzz like that." "Not even Mickey?" Judy smiled and shook her head, "Not even Mickey." "Well, I don't think any man should speak to a lady like that, I don't care who you are. And I don't condone bullying, especially to someone I care about, someone who they just look at as a money maker. I think speaking down to someone is the most disgusting act out there. I was raised to treat the janitor the same way you treat the CEO. Humans are humans, I don't care about stature." "You're definitely not like the other men around here. And I'll tell ya a little secret," she said taking his hand which he took gladly, "Some people around here are intimidated by you because you told off LB in that letter. I mean, that took..." "Balls?" She giggled, "Yes. And the way you spoke to Uncle Buzz just now," she looked at him dumbfounded, "Not even Clark Gable would do that." Gene nudged his shoulders, "I'm an honest man, that's all. I don't play into the Hollywood bullshit, you know this. I'm here to make art, not kiss ass. And I'll stand up to any disrespectful bastard who thinks otherwise." Judy placed her hand on his cheek and looked at him with such genuine adoration, "You're a good man, Gene Kelly." There it was, the two of them staring at each other like they had on the dance floor. Only this time, Gene didn’t feel anxiety take over his body. Her hand felt so warm and soft again his jaw as she looked at him with such respect. God, he could get lost in her eyes. Breaking their stare, Judy lowered her hand and pushed herself off her chair. He immediately felt cold. “Shall we continue?” “We shall.” “I’ll get it this time,” she stated adamantly. “And it’s ok if you don’t, baby. That’s what rehearsal is for.” “Just remind me. When we go into the hop waltz, we go...” “Counter-clockwise.” “Counter-clockwise.” “Just look at me. I’ll let you know with a look if I feel you’re about to make an oops,” they got into stance, “One thing I learned on Broadway, I know how to hide mistakes.” “How do you do that?” “I make the audience think that’s how it was supposed to happen,” he said as he made a twirl motion with his finger, like his character does in the scene, where they start their big dance number. They went through the dance, singing a cappella, and saying their lines, with Gene directing by saying certain things like ‘And turn’ or ‘Under’. She flubbed the hop but for the most part, Judy was spot on. When they did the routine a second time, they went straight through, with no mishaps. They were completely lost in one another, having fun, and just enjoying themselves. When it came time to sing their last lines, his arms around her waist from behind, Gene didn’t want to let her go. Instead of releasing her so they could bounce into their chair and strike a pose, he remained holding her. And she wasn’t moving either. Her hands slid up his arms, tightening her grip on him, before she looked up at him over her shoulder. Suddenly he noticed her breathing more unsteady than it was when she was dancing, and she was looking at his mouth again. Fuck, she wanted him to kiss. Oh, he wanted to... “How was that,” she whispered. “Perfect,” he whispered back and suddenly found his head slowly, but surely, gravitating toward hers. “Gene,” she murmured almost barely. “Rehearsal’s over!” They both jumped apart as the rehearsal door banged open. George Murphy and Ben Blue, who had been rehearsing in the next room, stood there in the doorway. George then whistled, “Buzz just called lunch.” “Yeah, let’s go. I’m hungry,” Ben started before walking away down the hall. Gene watched as Judy scrambled to collect her things, and seemed awfully nervous. “You guys go ahead,” he said as he grabbed his script, “I’m not hungry. I’m gonna work some more.” “Suit yourself,” George said a little arrogantly. Gene looked up just in time to see Judy glance at him one more before George escorted her out the door. When they were no longer in sight, he threw his script across the room in anger.

Gene took a swig of his beer, in complete contentment, as he sat at the bar of Johannes. It was a tropical, outside cocktail lounge, hanging off a cliff in Malibu, with spectacular views. It was nighttime at the moment, and even though you couldn't see much of the Pacific, except the calming waves crashing own below, the views were just as grand. The lit up lights of houses and buildings all along the cliffs and mountains gave it a starry quality. Tonight, there was a Spanish-themed band, and the breeze off the shore felt heavenly in the muggy air. Gene needed this, this and more cold beer. As he motioned to the bartender for another, he felt a hand slap his back. "Hey, Pal," Van said as he slid into the empty chair next to him. "Oh, hey buddy," Gene said gleefully, "Where'd you come from?" "Just arrived with a few friends," he said nodding towards his group. Gene leaned back to look and saw Evie, Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda just walk in. Then Judy appeared beside them. Before he could have much of a reaction, Evie caught his eye and waved at him. Judy looked over curiously, and when their eyes met, her smile disappeared. She looked daunted, so much that he immediately turned back forward in his seat, his hands tightening around his beer. "Come on and join us," Van urged. "You g'head and grab a table. I'll catch up with you in a bit." Van kneaded his eyebrows at his friend's hesitancy, but nodded, "Okay, we'll be over there. Make sure you come on over." As the group walked past him, Evie quickly gave him a kiss on his cheek, but his eyes glued to Judy in hopes that she might give him a friendly smile, or say hi. But to his disappointment, she purposefully ignored his direction as she kept on walking, following Van. Fortunately, Gene’s old friend from Vaudeville, Mike Villa,  popped in, so he was happy to have the distraction.  They finished a beer and got a good chat in for about twenty minutes when Van’s group started becoming a little rowdy. The laughter was infectious. They all sounded like they were having a grand time, and Gene tried to ignore looking over, but Judy’s laugh carried over everyone’s and it made him smile. Slyly, as Gene took a swig of beer, he slowly glanced over his shoulder towards the group, nestled at a table in the corner across the way. They all burst out in another roar of laughter but Gene’s eyes remained on Judy. She looked so god damn lovely as she laughed. It felt like it was slow motion, as she looked over at him, mid laugh. Their eyes caught, and her laughter stopped, but her smile didn’t. It widened. When he smiled back, her eyes looked down as she brushed some hair behind her ear. She was blushing. Gene felt a twinge burst in his stomach again and he turned back towards the bar, letting out a breath. “She’s prettier in person, ain’t she,” Mike commented. “Who?” “That Judy Garland.” “She’s a very beautiful girl.” “How is it working with her? Is she a diva like I’ve heard?” “My God, not at all,” Gene said serious, “She’s such a treat to work with. She’s professional and talented and funny, man, she cracks me up. More than that, she’s kind. She treats everyone like family.” They both looked back over at her, and saw Judy watching them, but she quickly looked away. “She’s real cute, you know what I mean?” Gene saw his friend raise his eyebrows suggestively before taking another swig of beer and he shook his head, “Yeah, man she’s real cute, but you know what? It’s a whole different ballgame. She’s not a girl to pick up, believe me. And she’s married.” “Since when does that stop anything. From what I hear, that band leader husband of hers is away a lot and everyone knows she don’t spend her nights at home. Look at her out now.”   “Listen, no disrespect, but Judy’s become a very good friend of mine. She’s going through a lot. I’m protective of her, so please…” “Gene, buddy, it’s cool. No harm done. Like a sister to you, huh?” “Yeah, like a sister,” he murmured. He lied. “Hello.” Both men were a little startled when they heard that captivating, yet soft, voice suddenly behind them. Mike immediately stood up like the Queen had just walked up to him. Now, he looked like a frightened schoolboy rather than a man that had just made a suggestive remark about her. “Miss Garland, how do you do. I’m Mike Villa.” She shook his hand, “Nice to meet you. And it’s Judy.” “Mike is an old friend of mine from New York,” Gene casually interrupted. “Are you in town visiting?” “Actually I moved here a few years ago. I work over at Fox in the editing department.” “Oh, how lovely,” she turned to Gene and placed her hand on his arm and lowered her voice a bit, “Can I talk to you?” “Ya,” he said curiously and stood up. “Mike, I hope it’s okay if I steal Gene away for a little bit.” “Go right ahead.” Gene felt such relief when she took his hand in hers. He let her guide him across the café towards the back stairs that lead down to the beach. When their feet hit the sand, Judy kicked her shoes off and let go of his hand. He watched as she walked away from him, towards the water. He kicked his loafers next to hers but tread behind her slowly, hands in his pockets. She wanted to talk to him, but she hadn’t said a word yet. “Isn’t the view beautiful,” she asked softly, turning her head over her shoulder to look at him. He had to stop a moment, as the moon reflecting off her hair and face mesmerized him. He couldn’t help but stare and suddenly she looked away, giving a nervous giggle. “You know, when you look at me like that, it doesn’t make things easier for me.” Gene walked up next to her, their ankles in the gentle surf. He had a quick thought of how good the cool sand and water felt on his tired feet before he replied curiously, “Make what easier?” “My feelings for you. Feelings that I don’t quite understand,” she said meekly. They both looked at each other, their eyes searching. Gene broke their contact and ran his hand through his hair terribly nervous, “Judy…” “No, Gene, listen. Ever since we became friends, I always felt this connection with you; like I could be myself, my true self, and be open and honest with you.” “Good. I feel the same.” “Then I think we need to get a few things straightened out,” she said straight-forward and serious, “I’ll go first. David isn’t the only reason I wasn’t doing my best in rehearsals today.” “Uh,” he cut in, “You were trying, you just lost some confidence there for a little bit, but you got it back.” “Do you know why I got like that?” Gene thought and shook his head and she went on, “You.” He took his hands out of his pockets and was about to speak but Judy put her finger up to shush him, “You have given me more confidence than I’ve ever felt before, not just personally but professionally.” “Then what was the problem,” he felt a little insulted.

“The night at Ciro’s. You looked at me in that way again; the way you did in rehearsal, the way you did just now. Then you just left me there…” “I told you I was sorry,” Gene mumbled feeling like an ass again. “…but the thing I didn’t appreciate is that you lied to me. You said you were fine, and we both know that isn’t true. If we have the relationship that I thought we did, then you would be honest with me, too.” Gene sighed and took a few steps away from her not quite finding his voice. She just continued to stand there and went on, “When you left me like that, I felt like you went from respecting me to hating me.” Gene immediately turned around and walked up to her. Judy took a step back at the ferocity of his swift action, but relaxed when he put his hands underneath each side of her scalp. He was looking at her with such desperation. “I could never, and would never, hate you…for anything.” “After we talked in rehearsal, I know that now,” she quivered, “But before that, I wasn’t so sure. When you left like that, and then put a wall up, I felt like I suddenly lost you, lost my confidence.” “That is far from the truth. Why would you think that?” “I thought maybe you hated me because you could see that I was starting to like you more than just a…friend.” Gene released her to anxiously bite on his nail. He glanced up at her before looking back down at the sand and her voice became a little louder, “This isn’t easy for me, Gene. Don’t you realize I just got married last year and now I’m having confusing feelings for another man?”

Gene’s chest started to heave as he took in her confession he realized now he wasn’t only one hiding, she had been, too. Judy’s voice turned to anger, “And you’re just standing there listening.” “And don’t you realize that I’m the one that I hate,” he yelled back. It was Judy’s turn to look at him dumbfounded. As such a self-assertive, and strong man, as Gene Kelly, hearing that he even remotely disliked himself made her skin break out in goosebumps, bad ones.

“I had to get away from you on that dance floor, Judy, because I was frightened,” he turned to look straight out into the sea, focusing on a small light coming from a boat towards Catalina Island, “I just got married not too long ago myself, honey, so we’re in the same boat. I hate myself because I made a promise to myself. I’m a good man, Judy, an honorable man…”

“I know that,” she wept interrupting.

“You hear all about these things that go on over here, and I said to myself, I would not get involved in any scandal or affair or chase after other women or fall in love with someone else. I was frightened because of my feelings for you. How can you fall for someone you haven’t even really been with? One can call it just an infatuation, but if it were about lust, that would be easy. You Judy Garland…you’re so much more than that. I’m standing here telling you how I’m starting to feel about you, but I’m not going to leave my wife, my growing family. I’m also not naïve. I know you can’t change what your heart feels. That’s what’s scary.”

Gene kicked a small seashell off his foots as another small wave crashed over their feet and he suddenly felt like a timid school boy. Before he knew it, Judy walked in front of him and slid her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, slowly rubbing her back up and down affectionately.

“How do I make you feel, Gene?”

Gene wasn’t sure he heard her right, and then processed how she might want him to answer, but he just found himself saying, “Like Christmas morning.”

She looked up at him in awe and he went on, “How do I make you feel?”

“Sometimes you make me feel things that I don’t even feel with my husband.”

Gene swept some hair behind her ear and moved his face a little closer to hers, “If we hadn’t been interrupted at rehearsal, would you have kissed me back?”

Judy thought it a stupid thing to ask and she didn’t hesitate with her own absurd question back to him, “You don’t lust after me?”

Gene grabbed her head and crushed her lips to his. He heard her give off a noise, not of startle or surprise, but more of relief. Her lips were so full and cushy, he wanted more. This wasn’t acting, they weren’t on camera, no one else was around, this was them, he reminded himself as he pulled at her lips. Her arms tightened around his neck as she pressed into him. Gene adjusted, sucking at her lower lip now when she opened for him. He didn’t even feel his hand grab a fist full of her hair as he mimicked her move and swept his tongue into her mouth feeling her silky one reach for him. That mouth that presented the most distinctive speaking voice, and most beautiful song, and that taught him how to kiss on screen, was now kissing him back eagerly. When he felt his libido stir, he knew he had to stop this before things escalated quickly.

He ended with a few loving kisses before departing. Resting his forehead against hers, he saw her bite her bottom lip smiling.

“Yes, I lust after you.”

“I would’ve kissed you back.”

“Yes, I felt that,” he teased.

They both giggled, feeling like they had broken the ice sort-of-speak, and they hugged in an understanding manner.

”Gene?”

“Hm,” he breathed into her shoulder.

“What happens now?” Gene thought a moment, “I don’t know. I guess, let’s just see where it goes.”

…And we all know where it went. The rest is Jugenea history.

[silverwhiteraven]

Wings of Broken White - Ch.8

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 7 ] [ Chapter 9 ]

Marinette and Chat Blanc continued to see each other sporadically after their midnight meeting full of emotional rollercoastering and winged secrets. He had told Ladybug about it a few days after, leaving out the part about Marinette’s revealing of having wings. It made her heart skip to know that he would keep a secret that wasn’t his to tell even if he didn’t have to. Ladybug thanked him for being honest with her and told him to be careful, but she was happy he got the chance to spread his wings around another friend.

Ladybug also offered to increase their patrols together if he ever wanted to practice flying with her. She even teasingly said something along the lines of them both needing the benefit of practicing with each other, just in case they ever had to have each other’s backs during a fight in the skies. He accepted, looking giddy to get even more opportunities to fly with another. She also found it unfairly adorable when he joked that he wouldn't get jealous if she wanted to fly around with one of her own civilian friends.

The two even thought about the possibility of some day both flying with their civilian friends together. Ladybug had to hide her giggle at the thought that she might have to break the news that Ladybug and Marinette could never fly together, if this proposed group flight practice were to ever take place.

But Ladybug did confess to Chat Blanc, that if she were to ever choose a civilian to fly with, it would be either Nino Lahiffe or Alya Césaire, because if there was anyone besides Marinette Dupain-Cheng that was trustable, it had to be the people Marinette herself trusted most. Chat hardly held back on his approval of the choices, and it made her laugh to see his bright antics.

After that, several more months passed by the duo, and the world. School was nearing the end of another year. Akuma’s were just as rare and random as ever. Best of all, Chloé had continued to be reprimanded by an ever vigilant Adrien. She was starting to almost mellow out as the fact slowly sunk in that someone she cared about and who cared about her, too, was actually willing to go against her, and even leave her, because she was in the wrong.

All of this led up to an end of school project for their class.

The students were to work together in equal shares to put on a play, telling either one of the fairy tale stories they had studied in class, or one they made up on their own. Nino had proposed that they make a short movie out of the project so that the fruit of their joint efforts could be shared outside of class. The teacher thought the idea was brilliant, and gave them extra time and afterschool privileges to help them set up.

Marinette had been a little tired the day the class was assigning the roles. Her mind only half paid attention, causing her replies to be badly timed and delayed. Because of it, an interesting selection of character parts were assigned.

“Now, I know we’ve been delaying assigning the lead roles,” Nini spoke from where he stood at the front of the room, acting as one of the movie’s directors, “ but I wanted to make sure everyone knew what the other options were before a bunch of people tried to jump at being the Knight of the Princess. So let’s start. Any volunteers or votes for the Knight’s Princess?”

There was various various calls of names and a few ‘me!’s, and most of it all went over Marinette’s head. The only part that really registered was ‘votes for the Knight’, so Marinette half-heartedly pipped in, “Adrien could do it.”

The room went quiet and all eyes turned to her like she had just declared herself to be an Akuma or something. She blinked, wondering what she said.

Nino was the one to break the silence with a crooked and amused smile. “Marinette, you want Adrien to be the Princess?”

She gaped like a fish, realizing she had heard his earlier question completely and utterly wrong. She waved her arms around and she stuttered, trying, and failing, to clear away her mistake. She froze when Adrien burst out laughing, clearly not offended or even upset.

“Why not?” Adrien chuckled as he calmed. “Not the first time I’ve been told I’m pretty enough to be royalty. It would be a nice break from the cool-guy look I’ve been doing at photoshoots lately, too.”

The room started to buzz again with noise. It seemed everyone was considering it, liking the idea of breaking away from assigning a girl to be the Princess.

Alya pipped up above the others mischievously. “So if Adrien get’s to be the Princess, who’s taking the role of Knight? Another of the boys, or one of the girls? At this point, anyone can take the spot since we’ve decided to ignore traditional gender roles. Any volunteers?”

There was more discussion filling the room at that declaration, and a few people glanced at Chloé. She had probably been gunning for the role of Princess, but now she seemed to be pouting. “If Adrien is taking the lead role, then I still want a good one. But I refuse to be a smelly Knight! I’d rather be the King.” She stated decidedly, and the class chuckled and murmured their acceptance of her decision. They were happy to have her not throwing a fuss. It was rather refreshing, actually, to see her still being dramatic but cooperative with the class.

Murmurs continued as the class discussed the role of Knight. Marinette stayed out of it, too embarrassed that she might mess up again. It wasn’t long before Adrien hummed to himself and turned to her.

“Marinette? Would you like to be the Knight to my Princess?” She squeaked at the sudden proposal, and the class hushed. Adrien turned to the others, a small but confident smile on his lips. “She’s helped all of us in Akuma attacks before, right? Marinette acts the part of a Knight saving dames and damsels in distress naturally. I think she could do this, if she wants to, that is,” he adds with a reassuring glance. There wasa round of agreements from the others, before all eyes turned to her, breaths held in anticipation of her answer.

Retreating into the neckline of her oversized shirt to hide a fluster, she nodded her acceptance. There were a few excited woops, and Kim even whistled.

After that, all the roles and assignments for the project were set.

Marinette and Adrien were to be Knight and Princess. Chloé and Juleka took to the King and Queen. Kim and Ivan claimed a joint role of the Dragon for themselves. Rose volunteered to be the Evil Sorceress. Mylène wanted the role as the Knight’s Fairy Guide. Alix was to make props and set backgrounds in the art room. Nathaniel and Alya were the script-writers for the story. Max and Nino were on camera duty with the help of Markov. Sabrina was put in charge of coordinating, scheduling, and final edits.

Lastly, everyone was given two tasks as a group: First, if they had nothing to, they were to help their fellow classmates who were still working. And second, everyone pitches in for the costumes if they can.

Everything went surprisingly smoothly for their project once everything was divided up. Adrien got Chloé to pitch in for the costumes with him, both allowing their immense closets to be raided. Alya and Nino were able to check out cameras from the yearbook and photography clubs. Props became a group-effort when most of the class rather enjoyed, and got carried away with, the art room’s free to use supplies. Some of the musically inclined were putting together a playlist for mood and background music. Kim helped the cast members practice their lines, even standing in for a partner if someone wasn’t there.

It was fun, Marinette had to admit. Up until the inevitable hitch caught up to them, though.

The days of filming their project were upon them. The school’s courtyard had been commandeered for the majority of their sets, empty due to it being a weekend. Large green rolls of poster paper had been used like wallpaper, hung from the second floor banisters to act as a greenscreen. The stairs got covered in painted cardboard so they would look like castle walls and towers from the side.

The entrance to the school was left clear, since the class had deemed it worthy to be its own set background twice over. The first was to act as the front gate to the King and Queen’s castle for the opening scene outside. The second would be from the inside, doors closed and covered with curtains to make it look like the inside of a Great Hall. To give the makeshift Great Hall its finishing touch, Chloé had ‘borrowed’ the fancy chair from her Father’s office to act as a throne.

All in all, things went great. The story and filming opened with the Knight, Marinette, decked out in painted cardboard and foam armor, returning from a mission in another country. He was summoned by the King and Queen immediately upon arrival, to be told that the Princess, Adrien, had been cursed and kidnapped by the Evil Sorceress. To their credit, Juleka and Chloé actually did an amazing job of acting and looking like emotionally distressed parents who just lost their daughter. And when they did a flashback scene in one of the classrooms, Rose proved to be one scary Evil Sorceress with Adrien a perfect damsel in distress. They did have to redo the scene several times, though, because the Queen, Juleka, was having trouble not looking like she wished she was being kidnapped by a very pretty girl instead.

The Fairy Guide, Mylène, was then called forth to help assist the Knight in tracking down the Evil Sorceress and navigate through the Magic Woods. This part took a mix of walking along the makeshift greenscreen wall multiple times and actually going out to a few of the parks around Paris. They had to admit to themselves, though, that they mostly just wanted to run around in-costume and have fun, as well as eat a picnic that Alya’s mother and Marinette’s father had both contributed to after hearing about the project.

It was the pre-rescue battle scene that caused the hiccup. The class artists had done a too-good job on the two-person costume of their Dragon. Kim sat upon Ivan’s shoulders, allowing the Dragon to have an impressive two and a half metre height from head to ground. Kim was also very set on being very animated and expressive with the Dragon, so the mouth, full of sharp paper mache fangs, opened and closed at his command while he threw glitter out like it was fire. Ivan controlled the legs, wings, and body, which all had moving parts for mobility. The legs were strapped to his own, so they walked and stepped when he did. The wings were controlled by Ivan’s Raven wings, allowing them to move realistically. Kim, acting as the neck, would twist around, and Ivan, needing to keep balance, would follow his movements, causing the whole dragon to lumber around and sway like it was alive.

The Fairy Guide, Mylène, couldn't bring herself to face the Dragon at all, let alone appear on set with it. What really took them off guard, however, was the Akuma that came along as the class was gathered around Mylène.

[hellsbellschime]

I was wondering if you could do an analysis on Sansas and Daenerys interactions in 8x02?

Totes, because I think it’s an extremely interesting character interplay that needed more development and that was either actually rife with subtext and just written really poorly or it was just dumb. But while I wish there had been more development for literally everything in season 8, I think that the dynamic between Dany and Sansa needed far more room to breathe and grow given that their incredibly brief relationship is one of the main catalysts for the climax of the story. 

Jaime’s whole “trial” scene is one that I really wish we had been able to see the lead up to, because while the drama of starting off the episode with it is certainly compelling, I’d honestly really like to know how everyone even got to that point in the first place. Like, Dany is furious that Cersei has betrayed her and lied to her about her intentions... except how exactly does that square up to someone who came to a truce with their enemy and then immediately arrests them and puts them on trial when they actually follow through on their end of the bargain?

However, looking beyond that there is not just Dany vs. Sansa, it’s kind of Dany vs. Team Stark. Dany lays out all of the reasons why Jaime deserves to be punished and Sansa actually completely agrees with her and says she completely understands how she feels, but then Brienne speaks in Jaime’s defense and Sansa immediately agrees that Jaime should stay. Now as viewers we understand what Sansa is doing here, but I think that Dany does not. I think that this may be a sort of crucial moment for what happens later, because someone who is unfamiliar with Sansa but sees that she is popular among the Northerners might come to the easiest conclusion, which is that Sansa is easily manipulated, weak willed, or likes to agree with people and thus everyone kind of likes her even though she’s the type of person who shouldn’t really be seen as important or authoritative. 

But when Dany kind of ropes Jon into it I think it’s even more interesting, and once again could be an implication that she doesn’t understand people who put the interests of others before themselves. Because way back when Melisandre told Dany to invite Jon to Dragonstone, Tyrion tries to sell her on it by explaining that the Lannisters have treated the Starks even worse than they theoretically treated her, so they have even more reason to want to see their downfall. So I think she inquires about Jon’s thoughts expecting her to agree with him, because quite frankly it’s just not in her wheel house to put the needs of others before her own. But he winds up agreeing to let him stay, and she feels peer pressured into acquiescing when she really doesn’t want to. That really puts her on the back foot and makes her extremely uncomfortable because it’s something she never does, and it’s basically taking her whole fantasy of conquering Westeros and destroying her enemies and basically forces her to give it up for the sake of maintaining her own mystique. 

So she’s super pissed and Jorah talks her down, and while once again the show cuts away from shit that we actually need to see, it’s fair to assume that he said something along the lines of Sansa is Regina George and you’re currently Janis Ian, so you need to go talk to her and charm her into liking you and the rest of the Northerners will fall in line. So, Dany follows his advice and tries to actually talk to Sansa and to get her to see her as the Enlightened Despot she imagines herself to be. 

Frankly, the conversation between Sansa and Dany is extremely weird and vapid on the surface, but I think it makes sense within a certain context. Namely, that Sansa and Dany both have very clear preconceived notions about each other, however Sansa’s assumptions are generally correct while Dany’s assumptions are completely incorrect. 

Obviously at this point, Sansa isn’t being fooled by charm, and Dany unfortunately reveals herself to Sansa in completely unintentional ways that she doesn’t realize are actually really hurting Sansa’s perception of her. Dany is here to conquer Westeros and force the North into submission, and maybe I’m overestimating Sansa’s political genius here, but what I find extremely interesting is that Dany asks Sansa why they’re at odds with each other but she doesn’t answer. She waits for Dany to answer, and Dany’s answer frankly gives Sansa an enormous political and manipulative advantage by letting her know that she assumes Sansa would not like an invader with dragons and an army the size of a city because she’s jealous that Dany has her brother’s attention. 

And yes, of course, Sansa loves Jon and is likely extremely concerned, but I just cannot believe that Sansa is being genuine in this conversation. This is the woman who had to convince Jon to accept the inevitability of their baby brother dying because focusing on saving him was an existential threat to their family and the North. I cannot believe that she would have more issues with the potential safety and manipulation of her brother who was a king, Lord Commander, and survived with wildlings beyond the wall than she would over Rickon. Not to mention, the notion that at this very moment when the North is on the brink of destruction and everyone is facing down the apocalypse, but somehow Sansa is concerned about the person that Jon may or may not be smashing, is an incredibly condescending and childish assumption to make about her. 

However, Dany does seem to make that assumption. Dany’s whole impression of Sansa seems to initially be that she’s just a catty and frivolous girl, and she seems to think that assuring Sansa that her super cute new crush is the one who really has her wrapped around his finger is enough to reassure her that everything’s fine and that that’s enough for Sansa to accept Dany as queen. 

But then Sansa quickly flips the script and asks about Northern independence, which I honestly think was a mistake on her part. Dany initially saw Sansa just like Cersei and Joffrey and Tyrion and the Tyrells and every other person saw her, as just a superficial idiot who can be easily managed and bent to someone else’s will. I understand why Sansa would never want to play that game again, but it also left her in an enormously advantageous position, and letting Dany know that she was actually very politically minded was not the right move at that moment. But of course, because this is the season of constantly interrupted interesting conversations, as soon as the discussion turns political it’s interrupted. 

Now, what I think is very interesting about Dany is her desire to essentially acquire special people. She wants Tyrion, the “most brilliant man in the kingdoms”, to be her hand. She knows he’s exceptional, and she wants to basically own him. And she goes through the same thing with Jon. She perceives her feelings towards him as love, but I think she really knows nothing about him and just thinks that he’s extraordinary enough to be worthy of her and therefore they must be in love with each other. Dany sees herself as a person unlike any other, with no equal in existence or history, so when people fawn all over her or give her unquestioned loyalty it’s nothing more than what she expects, but when literally anyone seems to care about or respect someone more than they do her, she doesn’t understand it and often sees it as some kind of a betrayal. 

So when Theon shows up to fight for the Starks, she doesn’t necessarily seem mad, but she is clearly baffled, especially because she has already categorized Sansa as someone not special. If she thought Sansa were special or important enough to warrant her attention, Jorah wouldn’t have had to tell her to go try to be friends. But when Theon arrives and asks Sansa to fight for her, she doesn’t get it because in her mind Sansa is not worthy of that kind of devotion because she’s too ordinary, and the fact that someone is prioritizing Sansa over her right in front of her face really puts her off. And what seemingly makes this interchange dangerous is that Dany’s reaction to seeing this doesn’t seem to be a desire to actually understand where it stems from, but seems to result in the immediate conclusion that Sansa herself must be stopped (which is an idea that Dany toyed with in the season premiere as well, but I think it only solidified that idea for her further).

But I think that Sansa and Theon’s interaction here is obviously fascinating as well, both in relation to Dany and in general. Honestly, that kind of raw emotion and vulnerability is something that people in GoT rarely display around one another, and I can’t even think of another instance of Dany actually witnessing two people who genuinely love each other emotionally connect in that way. That’s not generally a way that she feels about a lot of people, and in her world, she is always the center of attention. So even if there are people in her orbit who love each other, she never really sees that. I actually think Emilia’s expression captures that perfectly as well, she both seems put off but unsure of how to react and borderline unsure of WTF it is that she’s actually seeing, because again, it’s pretty abnormal to see people be that emotionally open in public anyway and because it’s something that Dany is completely unaccustomed to seeing when it’s not directed towards her. 

And of course, for Sansa and Theon as a pair, it’s extremely heartwarming and emotional to see how deeply they care for one another, and it’s even more touching to realize how powerfully they have had to repress their own emotions for so long and that they have now gotten to the point where they’re so completely unashamed and completely lacking in self consciousness that they’re willing to be that raw no matter who’s looking. 

Overall, despite the massive flaws of season 8, I do have to say that the scenes between Dany and Sansa are some of my favorite and I wish we had gotten so much more out of them. I actually think the performance chemistry between Emilia and Sophie is better than nearly every other character that Dany was introduced to late in the game, and I think it was a huge mistake to not explore that more and to not fully clarify that these two literal queens are not bickering over a boy’s attention. 

[cali-holland]

Cherry- Harrison Osterfield One Shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield X Reader

Prompt: When you and Tom are cast as co-stars in Cherry, you can’t understand why Harrison begins to act so weird about the sex scene… it’s not like you’re dating either one of them.

Word Count: 4100

Warnings: lots of talk about sex, making out, some swearing

A/N: sooo obvs the release details of the movie are gonna be off; I’m ignoring covid for this fic :)

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“A sex scene?” Harrison repeated, and Tom nodded.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be so weird.” Tom said. As they walked into their regular gym, they discussed the news that Tom had just heard over the phone- he’d just landed the role in Cherry a couple days ago, and he was told only this morning that there would be a sex scene involved in the film.

“Have they cast your co-star yet?” He asked, curiously.

“No. I haven’t even done screen tests with anyone else yet.” He shrugged. “I just hope they cast someone hot, you know?”

“Yeah,” Harrison laughed, still in disbelief that his friend was going to have to film a sex scene with a complete stranger in the coming months.

“Who would you want?” Tom asked and his friend looked at him quizzically, “If you had to do a sex scene, who would you want to do it with? A stranger or a friend?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really given it much thought.” He tried to shrug it off, but his red ears told otherwise. He began to work on one of the weight machines, getting it to the proper setting for him, as Tom wandered over to a treadmill.

“Why did I even ask?” Tom chuckled, shaking his head teasingly, “Of course it’d be Y/N.”

“What would be me?” You asked, coming into the room to join them with a little more spring in your step than usual. Harrison went red in surprise at your presence, making you look at him confused. You three had a regular routine of meeting up at the gym to workout so your presence wasn’t surprising.

Back in Brit school, you had become close friends with Tom and Harrison. You had always harbored a crush for Harrison, unable to deny the attractiveness in his blue eyes. You were just too caught up in your own head to realize he felt the same. Neither of you made a move, neither of you could bear hurting the dynamic of your group. Tom was oblivious to the fact that you liked his best friend, which made it harder for you to even think about changing the friendship.

“Harrison needs a spotter.” Tom said quickly, distracting you from the previous topic.

“Uh, yeah.” Harrison cleared his throat, trying to control his scarlet face.

“I’ll spot you, if you spot me.” You teased, tightening your ponytail as you went to stand by him. You watched as Harrison began to life the weights, your eyes getting trapped on his muscles.

“Oh, Y/N.” Tom spoke up, pulling your attention from Harrison, “Did you ever get a call-back for that audition last week?”

“Yeah, I totally meant to tell you.” You laughed, turning to continue watching Harrison to make sure he was fine, “I got the job, not even a call-back. I just got it, but I don’t even know who’s on the project.”

“What’s the movie?” He asked.

“Cherry.” You replied. Harrison’s arms faltered and you moved quickly to catch and stabilize the weight. Laughing lightly, you asked, “Are you okay?”

“Cherry?” Harrison clarified. He looked almost horrified as he put the bar back.

“Cherry?” Tom added, stopping the treadmill.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” You nodded, looking between the two of them in confusion. “What’s up?”

“Y/N, I’m playing Nico.” Tom said, and your jaw dropped.

“We’re going to be in a movie together?” You replied, a wide smile growing on your face. In all the years you three have known each other and worked on projects, none of you had been cast in the same movie as leads.

“We’re romantic leads.” Tom stated as Harrison shifted uncomfortably on the bench below you.

“I didn’t think about that at all.” You admitted. Your excitement left your body as you thought of the film.

“Did they- did they mention anything about certain scenes with us?” Tom asked, almost hesitant as he glanced over at Harrison, who looked like he was quite ready to vomit.

“Fuck.” You groaned, piecing together how, yes, you were told your character had a sex scene and how Tom, as your partner in the film, would be the other person in that scene. “Well, filming will certainly be an experience.”

“I think I’ll just use the treadmill today.” Harrison stated, getting up from the bench and heading over to a treadmill. Tom started up his treadmill again, leaving you questioning Harrison’s reaction.

~~~

In some ways, you appreciated that Tom was your co-star for Cherry, but sometimes you just wished it was someone else- you’d rather have it be Harrison. For the next few months, none of you really talked about it, especially not the sex scene, because it put all three of you in an awkward situation; although, you still couldn’t quite tell why it was so uncomfortable for Harrison.

You had a week before filming started, and so you and Tom decided to practice your lines together. All three of you would help each other learn lines for various projects, but it felt better to have your actual co-star going through the scene with you.

“Want to run that scene one more time?” Tom asked you as the two of you sat at the dining room table, both of you holding your scripts.

As soon as the question left his mouth, Harrison came into the kitchen in nothing but loose basketball shorts that hung low on his hips. His hair was pushed back by a sweatband, fully displaying his sweaty forehead. He had been out playing basketball with Harry, and you were grateful for the clear view of his body from your seat.

“Yeah.” You nodded, distracted by Harrison. You not so subtly watched as he got himself a drink of water. 

“Y/N? Y/N, you there?” Tom waved a hand in front of your face, calling your attention back to him.

“Sorry, distracted.” You said, shaking your head. As you read your line, Tom looked over to see his friend in the kitchen. Tom’s eyes trailed back to your flustered form- he had caught you full-on checking Harrison out. He started to wonder if maybe Harrison’s feelings for you weren’t so one-sided.

A few more days went by of you, Tom, and Harrison enjoying your last days at home before leaving for Ohio. You stayed with the boys at their house, wanting to be able to spend more time with them. Tom started to notice your lingering gazes on Harrison more, and he wondered how he didn’t see it before. He already felt guilty about playing the role of your love interest in Cherry- because that meant he’d have to not only kiss his friend but kiss his best friend’s girl, and now he felt even worse thinking that you definitely liked Harrison back.

You were anxious about filming. You had kept most of your nervous butterflies down, but now it felt so real. Your flight to Ohio was in a few hours, and you couldn’t sleep. You found yourself sitting on the roof, looking out at the stars and trying to find some sort of serenity.

Kingston was quiet and peaceful that night, but the cool night breeze made you contemplate returning to your bed. You were about to give up hope and go inside when someone sat beside you.

“Can’t sleep?” Harrison asked. He was wrapped up in a blanket and wrapped his own around you, shielding you from the breeze with the warm blanket and pulling you into his embrace.

“Just stressed and nervous.” You let out a soft sigh, sinking into his warm chest comfortably. “I’ve never done a big movie like this.”

“You’re going to do great. I just know it.” He reassured you.

“Am I making a mistake though? Tom’s like a brother to me, and we’re going to have to kiss in the movie, amongst other things.” You felt him tense a little underneath you. “Should I have backed out?”

“It’s not a mistake. You and Tom have been friends for years. You can do this, it’s just acting.” Harrison said, but it felt more like he was telling the last part to himself.

“Why are you so weirded out by this? You’re not even in the movie. You don’t have to do any of this.” You asked quietly.

“You and Tom are my best friends. It’s weird to think you have a sex scene together.” He stated. There was a pause that filled the air; it was the first time someone had explicitly said “sex scene” since you had found out about the role.

“I feel a bit bad for you.” Harrison teased lightheartedly, “Tom’s probably a shit kisser.”

“Know from experience, Haz?” You joked, looking up at him.

“God, no.” He chuckled, smiling down at you, “There’s just got to be something wrong with him.”

“Oh, alright. So what’s wrong with me then?” You bit your lip nervously, sitting up to face him and letting the blanket fall from your shoulders. You watched as Harrison’s eyes trailed down to your lips momentarily before they met your gaze again.

“Nothing. You’re perfect.” He said. You could feel his heart start to race a little as you started to lean in. You were so close; his warm breath hit your face, your nose brushed his-

But he pulled away.

“Sunrise.” Harrison said, diverting his eyes away from you to the sunrise over your shoulder. You turned around to face the sunrise, wanting to hide the hurt look on your face.

You two sat quietly on the roof, watching the sun come up over the skyline. Your phone alarm went off, signaling that you needed to get ready to leave. You and Harrison went back inside and separated to your rooms, finishing up last minute packing.

“Tom, can I talk to you for a moment?” Harrison asked, stepping into his friends room.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Tom replied, transferring socks from his drawer into his suitcase.

“Y/N, uh-“ He sighed, crossing his arms in an attempt to find the right words.

“You okay, Harrison?” Tom asked. He gave his friend a concerned look at his flustered state.

“Y/N and I almost kissed.” Harrison admitted, making Tom smile.

“That’s a good step.” He replied, happy for his friend and turned to continue his packing.

“I pulled away from her.” At Harrison’s words, Tom looked back at him in confusion.

“Why would you do that? You’ve been wanting to kiss her for years.” He said. Harrison shifted uncomfortably, like he couldn’t form the words to express his feelings, “Is it because of the movie?” At his lack of response, Tom had an answer. “Haz, look, you’re my best friend. I’d never make a move on Y/N. This is just a movie, it’s not real.”

“I know.” Harrison sighed. “It’s just going to feel real.”

Before Tom could respond, you called out to the boys from the kitchen, informing them all that you’d made breakfast.

“We’ll talk later.” Tom said as he and Harrison exited his room.

But later was with you. Leaving for Ohio, you were with Tom and Harrison for every minute, and Harrison feared the conversation would never be finished. Meanwhile, you feared that you read too much into Harrison’s comment- maybe he was just being cheeky when he called you perfect, maybe he didn’t think that, maybe you were crazy for trying to kiss him. No matter what, filming started with you feeling hurt from rejection, Harrison feeling confused by his own feelings, and Tom getting caught in the crossfire.

The next couple weeks held an odd air between the three of you, building up to the day that you filmed the sex scene. You and Tom hadn’t even filmed a proper kiss yet; the scenes you’d had together only called for holding hands or intimate forehead kisses. Today, not only would you have to kiss Tom, but you’d also have to make out with him, touch him, pretend to have sex with him- and make it believable.

Your nerves were building all morning as you reviewed the script again and again. You hadn’t seen Tom or Harrison at all until you were called to set.

“Hey,” Tom greeted you, handing you a cup of coffee.

“Hey,” You replied, taking the cup but avoiding all eye contact with both boys. It didn’t help that Tom’s character started the scene off fully clothed, whereas your character conveniently happened to only be in her lingerie, and so you awkwardly stood with your fully clothed best friends as you wore a robe over your undergarments. It’s not like Tom and Harrison hadn’t seen you before in a bikini, but it was a completely different situation this time around.

“Tom, Y/N, it’s time!” The director called out. You and Tom set your coffees on the side table. You tried to ignore Harrison’s lingering gaze as you stripped out of your robe, revealing the black lacy undergarments. You and Tom walked onto the set, standing in your positions.

“It’ll be alright.” Tom told you, trying his best to comfort you.

“We’ll see.” You tried to reply in a lighthearted attitude, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even fully smile at the situation. You glanced over to where Harrison stood off-set. He was watching the two of you, and he even looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“And action!” The director announced.

You and Tom began the scene with ease, going back forth with dialogue. You pushed down your nerves when he kissed you, as scripted. Your hands tugged up his t-shirt while he led you back to the bed. You fell back onto the bed and he stood between your legs. He broke the kiss to pull his shirt off, but Tom got flustered as it got stuck.

“Cut!”

“God, how do they make it look so easy?” Tom groaned, fixing his shirt. When he realized he was still standing in the compromising position between your bare legs, he stepped back and cleared his throat.

“How was that as a start?” You asked the director.

“It was good. You two make it look natural” He said, making the nervous pit grow back to life in your stomach. He further suggested, “When Tom takes off his shirt though, start unbuckling his jeans to make the scene pick up pace. It’s not meant to be a sensual scene.”

“Gotta get right to the point.” Tom chuckled, elbowing you playfully.

“Let’s start it again.” The director ordered.

And you and Tom got back into your positions and ran through the scene again. This time, as Tom took off his shirt with ease, your hands went to work on his jeans. Soon, Tom was fully on top of you in just his underwear, kissing along your neck and collarbone.

The director called cut again. After a few more takes, he was still having some problems with the look of it all.

“The first take, you two moved so fluidly, and now it’s stiff and unnatural.” The director informed you and Tom, showing you the playback on the screen. You tugged your robe closer over your body, weirded out by the footage. He was right- it did look unnatural, but after so many takes, it only felt more awkward. It was taking a lot longer than either of you had expected, but, luckily with camera angles and editing, you and Tom were able to keep your underwear on the entire time.

“Let’s take a ten minute break.” He announced. You and Tom walked over to where Harrison stood.

“You guys looked great.” Harrison said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“We look awful.” Tom stated, making you nod in agreement.

“It’s taking so long, it’s just getting worse.” You sighed.

“Just try not to think of each other.” Harrison offered weakly. None of you were sure what to say about the bizarre situation, but you never expected him to offer advice.

“You mean like picture someone else?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Y/N, we need to reapply your lip makeup.” Your stylist said, coming over to the three of you. You assumed she didn’t notice the awkwardness in the air as she applied more chapstick and lipstick to your lips. When she left, the director called Tom to the side to discuss tomorrow’s shooting schedule, leaving you with just Harrison.

“Must be boring, just watching the same scene over and over.” You said, trying to strike up a conversation with him.

“I haven’t been watching really. It’s too strange to watch you two act like you’re having sex.” He admitted.

“I hadn’t thought of that before- picturing someone else instead of Tom.” Now with the idea in your head, you’d try to picture Harrison during the next scene.

“It’s just a suggestion.” Little did you know, he wanted you to think of him, not Tom; he wanted it to be him on the bed with you, not Tom.

“Places!” The director announced, and you went to untie your robe.

“Hold this for me?” You asked Harrison, handing him the robe. He stood there speechless as you walked off back to the bedroom set.

The director called action, sending you and Tom back to making out on the bed. You thought of Harrison as Tom kissed you, trying to lose yourself in the scene. After a moment, the director called cut, claiming that was the best take. Wanting another angle for the last take, he started rolling again.

So again, Tom kissed you while you pictured Harrison. You thought of how Harrison’s lips would feel tracing over your skin; how Harrison’s hands would feel caressing your sides. As scripted, Tom began to move his hips against yours and started to kiss your neck. It was written that you would moan out his character’s name, but you were so caught up in your own thoughts of Harrison that you couldn’t even try to think about the proper line.

“Oh, Harrison,” You moaned and Tom halted his movements. Realization hit you immediately and your eyes opened wide.

“Shit.” You muttered. You dared to look over, past the crew, to where Harrison stood. You didn’t have to wonder if he heard your mistake as he was standing frozen in shock, eyes wide and face red.

“I knew it.” Tom chuckled from on top of you. His laughter died when Harrison regained movement and dropped your robe, exiting the set without another word.

“Are we done?” You asked, looking over to the director.

“We’ll edit it.” He nodded. You shoved Tom off from on top of you and hurried to grab your robe. Avoiding the crew’s eyes, you rushed back to your trailer with your head down. You let out a heavy sigh once you shut your trailer door.

“So,” You jumped, looking over to see a still red Harrison sitting on your trailer’s couch as if he was waiting for you.

“Well, I took your advice.” You said after a moment, sitting down awkwardly next to him on the couch.

“I could tell.” He nodded, fidgeting with his hands. “I didn’t know you thought of me like that.”

“Harrison,” you sighed. Before you could get anything else out, he leaned in and kissed you. When he pulled away, you both smiled.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve just been too scared to tell you, and when I figured out you were supposed to do a sex scene with Tom, I couldn’t handle it.” He explained. You placed a hand on his cheek, smiling softly.

“I’m in love with you too. I didn’t want to do all that with Tom. I want you.” You said, leaning in to kiss him again. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer to him.

And just like that, your concerns of the sex scene were free from your mind as Harrison held you in his arms.

~~~

Months later (a.k.a. whenever Cherry is supposed to come out now)

“Are you ready?” Harrison asked you as the car pulled up to the red carpet. You could already see the flashing cameras and bright lights outside.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You smiled, straightening his tie one last time. Leaning in to kiss him, you said, “Damn, I’ve got the hottest date.”

“I think my date’s much hotter than yours.” He teased, going in to kiss you again. The driver knocked on the door, signaling it was time for you two to emerge from the vehicle. Harrison squeezed your hand reassuringly before you both got out of the car and started your walk on the red carpet.

You and Harrison had been red carpets before, but never as each other’s date. In fact, it was your first “major public outing” as a couple. Though it was for your movie with Tom, you were more than happy to show off Harrison. You two walked down the carpet together, stopping to talk to the fans and pausing for pictures. Tom made his way over to the two of you so that all three of you could get pictured together.

The press wanted pictures of you and Tom as the movie’s leads, and so Harrison stepped off to the side. They also called for individual shots of you before you got dragged into the carpet interviews, when all you really wanted to do was be with Harrison.

“So, Y/N, who’s your date tonight?” The interviewer asked, eyeing Harrison in the distance. You blushed, smiling over at him. He was too distracted talking to Tom to notice your gaze at first, but he smiled when he saw you already looking at him.

“That’d be my boyfriend, Harrison.” You answered.

“Do you want to invite him over here?” The interviewer suggested and you let out a small laugh.

“Sure.” You waved Harrison over to you and he wrapped an arm around your waist as he joined you at the interview.

“I’m getting the date questions tonight.” You teased, making him laugh.

“Oh I see.” He joked.

“How long have you two been together?” The interviewer asked, calling your attention back to them.

“Almost a year.” You replied and Harrison hummed in response.

“Now, how did the filming of the movie go, Y/N? You’ve been friends with Tom for years, right?”

“Yes, actually I went to school with Tom and Harrison, so we’ve all been close for a long time. It was definitely strange to act like a couple with Tom in the movie.” You laughed a little. You felt Harrison’s thumb begin to trace light circles on your hip; you knew it was his way of distracting himself from the nervous conversation.

“You’ve been friends for so long I would bet it’d be weird. Was it difficult to film that scene? How did you get through it?”

“Uh,” You chuckled nervously, placing one of your hands over Harrison’s on your waist, “We got through it by not talking about it. It was the most bizarre thing I’ve ever done, so it will definitely be interesting to sit through that tonight.”

Before the interviewer could press anymore, your manager came by, pushing you further down the carpet and inside the theater.

“That was the first time I’ve ever been asked about that.” You said quietly as you and Harrison took your seats. The seat beside you was open for Tom, who was still outside.

“You’re not wrong though. I don’t know how the three of us are going to watch that right now.” Harrison replied with a laugh.

“Well, I did get something good out of it.” You smiled, leaning in closer to him.

“Mm, and what was that?” He asked teasingly.

“One hell of a boyfriend.” You stated before kissing him passionately, not really caring about the rest of the theater filling up with the rest of the cast and crew.

“Hey, now, do I have to separate you two?” Tom asked loud enough to make you and Harrison jump apart from each other.

“I’m about to sit through two hours of you kissing my girl. I think I’m allowed to kiss her before the movie.” Harrison defended the two of you as Tom sat down beside you. You smiled at him calling you his girl.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tom playfully rolled his eyes. “We’re in an agreement though to not watch that scene, right?”

“Yes.” You and Harrison answered simultaneously.

As the movie began, Harrison gave your hand another reassuring squeeze, making you smile in the dark room.

And yes, when that scene came on, all three of you suddenly found the ground more interesting. And all three of you cringed from the sounds and the thoughts of it.

[angrylizardjacket]

mouth full of white lies {Machine Gun Kelly} 1

1. you look like my next mistake

Summary: You’re Douglas Booth’s adopted little sister, a YouTuber moonlighting as an assistant on The Dirt. The fact that your brother’s the lead is a happy accident. Another happy accident? Getting drunk with MGK and becoming fast friends with him. Until, of course, everyone assumes you’re together. What better way to make everyone shut up then by agreeing. Sort of. Okay so you’re not really dating but you’ve got to convince your respective fans that you are. And the rest of the cast and crew. It’s okay, flirting is totally harmless. The feelings? Everything else that comes after? Less harmless.

A/N: we meant to be a much different, much shorter fic for @kellysimagines, but i hope you like it!! fake dating AU. reader is adopted, not blood related!! warnings for drunken-ness.

the brainstrust: @sataninsatin @silvertonguedserpent @juliarose21 @kellysimagines @estxxbritt @machine-gun-casie @siriuslymooned @harringtonstudios @misscharlottelee @narcvissa @hiworlditishumbleme @angelwarner28 @nevilles-insinuations @rumoured-whispers @mgkobsessed @edwardtriggerhandzz @suckerforbarnes @wastelcve @bakerkells @local-troubled-writer @freddiessmallnipples

----

The fact that you and your brother ended up working on the same project was purely coincidence, and that actually wasn’t a lie. Douglas had landed the role of a lifetime, Nikki Sixx in The Dirt, and was immediately up to his eyes in nondisclosure agreements. You, on the other hand, had been scrolling through Facebook when a friend of yours, Josy, who happened to be an assistant director who had been talking about a ‘huge project for Netflix she wasn’t allowed to discuss’ asked if you wanted to come onboard as her assistant, since you’d proven to be good under pressure and fast on your feet when she had still been filming student projects only a few years ago.

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! Today is a ‘Get Ready With Me’ for my flight to New Orleans! Can you believe it? I’m working on a big project and I have to travel - they’re paying for my travel! I’m so excited! This is going to be such a fun project, even though I can’t tell you too much about it just yet. So to start with, I’m going to run you through my every-day shower routing.”

You hadn’t been at the table read, but you had been at rehearsals, had turned up on the first day looking all done up, excited and professional, only to be met with your brother in eyeliner. 

“Duck!” Of course he was elated to see you, grin splitting his face from ear to ear. He calls you by your childhood nickname, he always has, and already you can feel every pair of eyes on you, but you don’t care. The nickname had followed you through life, of course less than a day in the project and it was already spreading. 

Everything making sense after you mention Josy had gotten you the job. She was a mutual friend, had always been fond of the two of you.

“This,” you enthuse, clutching your clipboard to your chest, “this is what you’re doing? You’re doing the Motley Crue biopic?” You’re looking at him with stars in your eyes, your talented big brother, who seemed to bring you along for the ride in one way or another. 

And finally he can tell you about it, because damn it had felt like forever since the two of you had spoken simply because he’d been hiding the biggest news in his life from you. 

“Oi, Booths!” You hear Josy’s distinct voice the moment she steps in the rehearsal room, though she’s clearly smiling, “good to see you both, but Doug, I need you up and in the space; I’m running warm ups before we get started. Duck, could you go on a coffee run for me?” She asks it sweetly; she’d picked up the nickname for you years ago from Douglas, and of course it had stuck, not that you minded. With that you’re both off. 

You’d been so distracted by getting to talk to your brother, who had been early just as you had been - there’s something to be said for nature versus nurture, despite not sharing genetics, you certainly shared a sense of punctuality - that you hadn’t even seemed to notice the rest of the cast getting in. But they’re not your job; you just have to keep Josy happy, get her food and drinks when she requested it, and type out emails she dictates. Easy. 

Of course this isn’t how things stay; you’re in close proximity to the cast for at least five hours a day, in a corner somewhere working on your own emails or scrolling through Twitter when you weren’t needed, but always around. For the first few days, no-one pays you much attention. 

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! It’s my first week with The Project, and I’ve finally got a day off; it’s Sunday so I’m dragging my brother to a whole bunch of places you lovely people have recommended for me! Wish us luck!”

You’ve been in front of a camera for about as long as Douglas has, though never quite in the same way. You’d tried your hand at all sorts of jobs, both in the entertainment industry, and not, and while you enjoyed the entertainment industry well enough, you found that you had a passion for making your own videos. Your YouTube channel, which was almost at a million followers, had been going strong for almost four years, as you made videos about the lesser known roles in the industry. Sometimes your brother was in your videos, but often he wasn’t, and you felt lucky that you never really needed to use him for clout. He was just Doug, and your followers knew that if he was in a video, it’s because he wanted to be, but he wasn’t the reason the video was being made.

Douglas was nothing if not supportive, and when Sunday rolls around and when production gave you and the main cast the day off, while the second unit team worked with some of the secondary characters, you were both more than happy to take advantage of the freedom.

“Dude I have such a long list of places we could go, I don’t even know where to begin - haven’t you been here before?” You pressed the phone to your ear, frowning at the two outfits you had laid out on the bed before you.

“Yeah, for like,” Douglas hums at the other end of the line, “like press things, and like a week and a half for some Jupiter Ascending stuff-”

“Did that even make it -?”

“No, it got cut -” somewhere behind him, the milk frother of a coffee machine squeals, and someone’s indistinct name is called.

“Get me a drink,” you tell him, instinctively.

“Get one yourself!” He half laughs, and you hear him cover the receiver and muffle his thanks as he presumably picks up his drink.

“Who are you talking to?” When he uncovers the phone, you can hear another familiar voice; it’s Colson, you’re pretty sure. You know him from rehearsals, and a bit from his music, but not much beyond that.

“My sister,” Douglas offers, flatly, to which you make a noise of indignance. 

“Ask him if he’s ever been to New Orleans -” you instruct, putting the phone on speaker and opting to change into your more practical jeans and sweater option.

“She wants to know if you’ve ever been to New Orleans -” He relays easily, and you hear a snort of laughter.

“Of course I have.” You hear Colson say.

“Of course he has -” Douglas tells you, as if worried that you hadn’t heard.

“Ask him -” You begin, but you’re cut off.

“We’re across the road,” Douglas tells you, and you know without having to see him that he’s rolling his eyes at you. Audi ambassador, philanthropist, movie star, and occasional model Douglas Booth had the composure of a saint for everyone but you, though neither of you would have it any other way, “just come over here yourself.”

“Get me a drink?” You asked hopefully, and you heard him sigh, knowing you’d already won.

Your favourite drink is waiting for you when you arrive, as are both Douglas, and Colson, sitting hunched over in a booth with dark glasses. You can’t help but chuckle.

“Booths in a booth.” You mutter, and at least that gets their attention. Sliding in next to Douglas, you make eye contact with Colson as he lowers his glasses and frowns at you, just a little, as you sip your drink.

He looks between the two of you for a moment; you don’t share a whole heap of similarities with him, but after a beat, he nods, and gives you a curious look.

“Alright, good to meet you,” he paused, narrowed his eyes for a moment, “you’re part of the crew, aren’t you?” Is what he focuses on.

“Assistant to the AD,” you nod, before adding, “Duck, you might know me as Duck,” and that he seems to recognise at least. Colson hums thoughtfully, nodding and sliding his glasses back up his nose as he leans back against the seat. Drinking your drink with a surprising focus, you hand over your list of recommended places to Douglas, who nods approvingly, but quickly turns it over to Colson. He makes short work of it, crosses quite a few spots off, adds a few of his own, and takes pause to look up from it.

“Why are we going all over town? Why not just like... chill and maybe go over lines and shit? Isn’t that what we’re meant to do?”

“Didn’t take you for the cautious type,” you tell him with a teasing edge to your voice. Colson fixes you with a half-smile, handing the phone back pointedly.

“I’m not, I just don’t want you to narc on me if we start at bourbon street and spend our precious Sunday getting drunk in The Big Easy,” he matches your tone, sitting back with a posture so relaxed it’s almost scripted, and you’re pretty sure you like his nerve. 

“I’m...” you hesitate a little, “a YouTuber,” and though Colson winces a little, it still stings. With so much stigma surrounding your profession, even in 2018, it’s hard to explain to people what you do for a living and not receive criticism.

“So you’re gonna catch all the stupid shit we do on camera?” He asks, and oh, so that’s what he’s worried about. You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“If you don’t wanna be in it, then you don’t have to be; anyways, I’ll edit out all the bits that break our NDAs,” shrugging, you shoot for casual, and Colson looks like he’s actually weighing up his options. 

“You still haven’t told him you’re not a narc,” Douglas stage whispers to you, which makes your expression sour and Colson laugh.

“You’re a narc,” you hiss back, reflexively. 

“We’re method acting,” Douglas offers, aiming for that same casual confidence that Colson was exuding, but not quite getting there.

“Fuck yeah, dude, that’s the spirit,” Colson’s expression breaks out into a grin, and he offers Douglas a fist bump, which your brother gladly returns. Then Colson’s looking back at you, bright and excited rather than judgmental; “you in?”

“We’ve gained a newcomer! A tour guide, if you will, Mister-” and you turn where you’re filming yourself and the two men beside you, the camera shaking in your grip as you head down the street, and your voice lowers, “what do you want me to introduce you as-” but he buts you off, moves around Douglas, who’s laughing quietly to himself, and grabs the camera.

“It’s MGK, motherfuckers! We ‘bout to hit Bourbon Street - we’ll bookend this shit; open with it and close with it, we’ll be back here tonight!” He sticks his tongue out, and throws out the devil sign with his hands, before turning the camera to catch Douglas laughing, and you looking both excited and concerned.

“We will?” 

When you ask about Daniel and Iwan, the other two members of the film’s Motley Crue, all you get is vague answers; in time, they’ll all come to be good friends, but it’s their first Sunday off, and no-one begrudges them for them choosing to take time for themselves. Douglas and Colson, however, had decided early on to try and make their friendship both on and off screen as authentic as possible. 

“Fuck, man, Tommy’s like, opening line in the book is that he and Nikki were like an old married couple, for like twenty years, dude, that kind of connection is insane!” Colson is nothing if not good casting, waxing poetic at a diner he’d spotted around midday, your little group already tipsy and hungry since your less than substantial cafe breakfast.

“I give this bacon and egg roll,” Douglas is in his own little world, only aware that you had your camera pointing at him as he devoured his lunch with a surprisingly messy gusto, “four-and-a-half out of five cups.” He announced with a mouth full of food, using the rating system you’d devised earlier in the day. After a moment, he swallowed, before turning to Colson, expression serious, “I’ve known you for about a week, and as much as I like you, I don’t think I want to marry you.” 

“No, that’s the thing, man, twenty years is a long-ass time to know someone; I just, man, by the end of this, we are gonna be tight, okay? That’s all I want. Bros, you know?” And he wrapped his arms around Douglas, pulling him in for a hug, and your brother nodded seriously, wrapping his arm around Colson in return.

“Bros.” He confirmed, giving the camera a very pointed look. You make sure the camera catches when you flip him off. All it does is set off all three of you laughing.

It’s an incredibly fun day, the three of you traipsing around, visiting sound studios and memorials and sites that paid homage to the great city you found yourselves in. You know you shouldn’t be surprised, but Colson’s rather reverential when it comes to the history of music, and when you look back at your list, you see the sites he’s added all have to do with it. Honestly, you’re a little endeared. It’s also a fun night, the parts of it you can remember, stumbling, leaning on one another. There’s bound to be something about it in the gossip rags in the following days, not that the three of you were badly behaved, just that they had both stopped caring about avoiding paparazzi, and, alright, being a little bit raucous. 

In bed by two, you know you’re gonna have a killer hang over for your nine-am start, but it was a fun night, and you’re looking forward to reviewing your footage.

“I give this bourbon from - hey, where’s this bourbon from?” You turn to look over your shoulder, and the cup in your hand slops over with drink, splashing out onto the street, not that you notice. Douglas is talking to someone running a stall, but Colson joins you, wrapping an arm around you.

“We give this bourbon a cup out of cup,” he announces, and you nod seriously.

“Cup out of cup.” You agree, and lift up the cup, before an idea lights up your face. “Drink it with me, like same cup, try and drink it with me.” It’s a terrible idea, your cheeks pressed together, tongues out as if it would help you drink better -

“You guys look like incredibly stupid,” Douglas calls out from out of frame, finally noticing the two of you. You go to respond, but that’s when Colson tips up the cup and it manages to hit neither of your mouths, instead it splashes against where your cheeks were pressed together, and all down your clothes. “Told you.” Douglas adds. 

Colson licks the bourbon from your cheek with a grin, but moves on quickly. You look around shiftily once the boys had left, still holding the camera with one hand, and you pull the hem of your shirt to your mouth, sucking liquor from it as you follow behind them wearing a pleased little smile.

Honestly, things get more lively in more ways than one, after that. Now that Colson knows you, it seems the rest of the cast do too. Slowly but surely you’re developing a friendship with both Iwan and Daniel, though Colson’s been surprisingly quick to treat you like an old friend.

“Trial by fireball whiskey,” is what he tells you after rehearsals one Saturday night. You’re doing a dinner run, picking up pizzas before the four of them go out, with you as their chaperone, as directed by Josy. 

“Speaking of,” though you can’t help but grin a little at the fact that you’d earned his favour so easily, “I’ve almost finished the video.” 

“Oh God,” he groans, laughs, and covers his face with his hands, “do I even wanna see it?”

“It’s not that damning, I promise, I need to stay monetized, you know?” You laugh, but it’s a sad truth you’ve had to deal with a lot since choosing to become a YouTuber. 

“I’m not exactly PG-13,” Colson’s smirking when you look at him, and his gaze meets yours and what does that tone mean and why are you reading into this all of a sudden.

“So I suppose you were on your best behavior that night?” You ask, voice innocent, though you can feel yourself getting flustered. His smirk grows wider.

“Only for Douglas’ sake.” 

And then your name’s called for the pizzas and the mood vanishes and Colson just asks if you can send him a link when you put up the video; you tell him you can send him it before it’s published, just to make sure he’s happy with it, and he gives you this genuine smile that you feel warm your heart, just a little.

But it’s when you publish the video that all hell breaks loose. 

Having a famous brother is one thing. Having a famous brother is allowed. Knowing someone famous is clout chasing, is gold digging, is not allowed according to the internet. Making someone famous laugh is downright illegal, surely he can do better than you. Because with the views come assumptions, and your burgeoning crush aside, they’re baseless. You’ve known him for three weeks. Twenty one and a half days in total. Flirting aside, the internet doesn’t know shit. 

It still hurts. 

The video kind of blows up, because everyone loves relatively harmless drunk celebrity shenanigans, and Colson’s kind of been blowing up recently between his music, and his upcoming film Bird Box. So now there’s invasive questions and death threats filling up your DMs on every platform, and along with a new influx of followers comes a new wave of toxicity. You know how to deal with people accusing you of using your brother for clout, but this is a whole other level. 

“So you’re with Colson,” Douglas looks smug when you answer your door on the day after the video drops. Though quick to defend yourself, there’s already tears in your eyes having had little sleep from the stress of everything that had happened, his smug aura drops and he wraps you up in a hug. “Hey, I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” his voice is soothing and level as he walks you back into your room, closing your door.

“You’re an ass,” you tell him, sulkily, but you hug him back.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you in earnest.

“I’m gonna get fired-”

“You’re not gonna get fired, Duck, you didn’t break your NDA, you didn’t break YouTube’s terms of service, you bleeped out all the swearing, you had an alcohol disclaimer at the start; this is the fans and the media blowing things way out of proportion.” He assures as you sniffle, still hugging him tightly. 

“They’re gonna fire me,” you murmur, voice a soft, sad whine.

“They’re not.” 

This is the point at which your phone starts to go off; someone’s calling you, and the caller ID says it’s Colson. He must have just woken up.

“He okay-ed the video, didn’t he?” Douglas asks, and you nod. “Then he won’t be mad; he’s dealt with this shit more than us, you know?” He gently pushes you towards the phone where it’s sitting on your bed, and steps back. “I’m gonna give you and your boyfriend some space,” and it’s teasing again, his grin sharp as he ducks out of the way of the pillow you throw.

“Asshole!” You yell after him. Once’s he’s out of the room, however, you take a moment to compose yourself before picking up the phone. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry -” you start, but Colson seems surprised to hear your apology.

“Nah, Ducky, don’t worry about it, I called to apologise to you; if I’m ever seen with a chick everyone thinks I’m dating her, I should have realised, I should have -”

“No, I mean, I can’t post a video with a guy who’s not my brother without five different tea channels claiming I’m in love,” you laugh, trying to hide your distress. An awkward silence follows, in which you sniffle, and reopen your laptop.

“I am really sorry,” Colson says, and there’s regret in his voice that you hadn’t expected. “If I could get them to all shut the fuck up, I would; you shouldn’t be all torn up over my shit.”

Something about what he says plays in your mind over the next few days, watching, subdued in rehearsals. The rest of the cast ask if your alright, sympathizes with you, all of them having had run-ins with the media in one way or another. Josy, in her own way, sympathizes too, in that she doesn’t treat you any differently, she doesn’t pity you. She, like you, like all of you, knows it will blow over. Probably.

“Hello,” your tone is so damn subdued, “hello and welcome back. I’m here today to address some rumours you may have heard. To all my new ducklings, hello. And to all my old, hello again.”

“They’re not gonna believe you if you deny it,” is how you greet Colson, barging into his room after rehearsals on a Wednesday. It had been a good day, things had calmed down somewhat online, but still gossip rags were still going hard, seeing as the paparazzi had managed to spot the two of you together during a break in rehearsals. 

“Yeah, no, they generally don’t,” he says flatly, frowning a little as he closes the door, running with whatever train of thought you were on.

“Then don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Deny it.”

Silence.

“Are you asking me out?” He actually wears a little smile at that, but you fix him with a serious look, not even a hint of a joke in your tone or expression. 

“Yes, because we’re twelve,” you rolled your eyes, tone so flat it’s almost comical, before you snap “- fucking no I’m not asking you out -” the thought had crossed your mind several times before shit had hit the fan, but there was no way in hell he’d genuinely want you now; you both came with a mob of crazed fans, and a sweet, if fake relationship with an amicable end would be far easier to manage than crazed rumors, “I’m fake asking you out. If you’d have me, I want to date you to get our fans to calm down.”

“How?!” He splutters, both confused and overwhelmingly amused. “That’d never work.”

“If we tell them we’re together, and we’re both working on projects, the industry won’t see either of as distracted by outside sources; we talk up how we’re supporting one another through this process, and that if our fans ever wanted what’s best for us, they’d support us too.”

“You’d...” he swallows hard, though he’s certainly contemplating the thought, “you’d still get death threats, you know that-”

“I get death threats when I don’t post feet pics;” you snorted dismissively, and his eyebrows rose, “I can handle them, but if you said this made you happy, well I think a majority of your fans would calm down. Stan-culture is weird and frightening, but a lot of them, most of them,” you corrected yourself, “want what’s best for you.”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” And he’s smiling now, watching you with something that almost resembles admiration in his eyes.

“Tell me you haven’t had a hundred tweets yelling about how you’ve corrupted me,” you cock your hip, and he casts a glance to his phone, before admitting he has, “well if I go back to posting non-drunk content with you in it, they’ll die down, I guarantee it.”

“What about your brother?”

“He’ll support me no matter what, it’ll be more believable if he, you know, believes it.” You hold out your hand, waiting. There’s an almost intimidating spark in your eyes, a focus that Colson hasn’t seen before. “Are you in?”

“Yeah, fuck it, why not,” and he shakes your hand, firm, grinning brightly.

“I’m here to address some rumours regarding my...” you took a deep breath, “boyfriend.”